#so far ive been asked to come in tuesday the she said she would do it so im like 👍🏻 then she discovered she has to do stuff on thursday | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

einarshow · 22 days ago

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Hi guys heres a story ive been working on

- there was supposed to be italics but i dont get that on this site.

Nilva - The last wings

Another day. Another in a string of 290 days so far since that little insignificant number changed from a 8 to 9. Today was now October 18th and also the day you were ha-HAHAHA! TODAY IS YOU WERE BORN! THE 19TH LAPSE AROUND THE SUN, CORRECT! But, that won’t really matter since you had woken up an hour late and will miss your meeting with your supplier for your shop. You finally barge out of your room hastily brushing your silvery red hair as you increasingly become more annoyed at the person ringing your doorbell. Surprisingly its just a mailman who hands you a package. Unsurprisingly it’s from Carla, your “best” friend, a gift you presume, you don’t have time for it though and you head out the door.

Soon, you arrive at Point Café, the designated meeting point between you and Daniel. If you were to describe the guy you’d say he’s very.. energetic about certain topics, and he’s clearly focused on his work. If you were actually to describe him you’d say he’s small, timid and quite jumpy, and he’s perviously told you that he isn’t good with most social interaction if its not a professional setting. You finish your internal epilogue about that wretch Daniel and enter the building swiftly searching the tables for him. As you sit down you noticed he bought you a tea, which is good since you hate coffee and the last time he ordered some for you… never-mind. Besides it seems he’s very tempered today, so you ask with a semi-gleeful tone.

“How are you today, Dans?” He shoots you a look like you had just killed his dog in cold blood when you utter the last word.

“Uh… just fine” up until now of course

“the weather has been bugging me, though. I swear it’s nonstop rain!” he stops dead in his sentence looking up at the cascading clouds of drape purples and white trickling and gleaming through the edges of the conglomerate of gray.

“We��ve ought to be cursed by a fae-“ You stare up at him and bluntly when he dares speak that last word.

“I’m sure theres just be a new thermal or possibly the gulf is heating up.” You take a sip of your tea as you watch Daniel’s reaction with your fiendish gray eyes.

“When do you want to pay for the shipment?” You answer with next Tuesday as you leave your seat placing your half-fished poorly steeped green tea on the table.

He stops you and asks you in a pleading way if you can two can meet again. You obviously hadn’t properly analyzed what he said, being in a rush to open your storefront up before 3, so you answered

“Well, I’m going to jog up in Mulberry Woods. If you can come, I’ll be there at 6,” and then you grab your bag and head out the door in a stride of sorts.

Finally you arrived at your blood-given, master crafted, beauty of a store. Your paternal grandmother opened it back in who-knows-when and named it “Grandinous” which was used to sell stolen goods that she passed off as pawns. Since then you’ve turned it into a half collection store and half thrift store, and this resulted in restoring it as a decent store to go to regularly. Daily even. Yeah, you’d say your store is doing pretty well while looking at its 15 or so foot sign sitting on top of the double doors. You gently unlock those same painted gray metal doors and stick the flimsy door stopper in the little gap. Little gaps insignificant right? Apparently they save tons, and tons, and tons, and tons of material and money yearly. Your string of strange thoughts on the economic world are abruptly interrupted as you hear the radio crackle on:

“Today marks the day the NORTH WALL has officially been breached. The Dalian of its border has ordered to kill ANY and ALL wretche-“ You quickly shut it off as your heart begins to pound. What the fuck was that

You stop in your tracks. Why would someone put that on an outdated radio—more importantly how the FUCK did this thing turn on by-itself.

Your mother taught you damn well enough to not mess with things that didn’t make sense you, rationalize to yourself while throwing the thing away besides if she was here today she’d burn the damn thing. After that moment you notice another sudden sound that feels like nails on a chalkboard to your frazzled mind.

“Oh what is it this time..” You mutter under your breath as you gently open the backdoor of your store is knocked on.

You see a truck—oh it’s Daniels company, they were just doing their job and delivering the carts you craved. The young package-person looked at your scowling expression with a look of fear in their large eyes. You must’ve been far more agressive then you thought you were..

“Sorry kid, I thought you were someone else. Do you mind helping me get these shopping carts in, err..” you speculate on the name of this individual before they interrupt your concentration with

“It’s Aleix ma’am and yes I will help in anyway I can,” they seem to almost salute before stopping themselves from completing the action like a broken action figure. It’s weird how they choice their words in that rhyme-esq. way, almost repulsively so. You remember the young chap now, they’re only 16 but are working there because of some family situation. They work hard though so it’s no wonder they are at on of the top of their field. The driver looks back at you through a strongly tinted window letting the carts roll out the back. You catch a glimpse of its vivid redish eyes before his expression shifts and suddenly he sped out of the lot with swift jagged turns like he’s escaping some sort of creature is chasing after him.

Sorry what? Does he not know he has a JOB to do… In-fact is having tinted truck windows even legal??!?!? what does he think he’s doing.

“AUGH,” You unknowingly moan aloud as little ol’ Aleix looks around, suddenly trapped at your store, with those same large eyes.

Luckily, with the help of one of the spar phone in the back, Aleix was returned to their house by their mother pretty swiftly. You continued to ponder about that red-eyed truck driver and their STUPID reaction to you. You think back on where you’ve seen him before because of the vague familiarity you sensed when thinking about him. You continue trailing off while signing recites for costumers. One of them, a small frail woman, finally strikes up a conversation.

“Do you think the invasion will make you shut down? I would’in know where else ta go for my scarfs this autumn,” So that radio’s broadcast wasn’t some sort of evil, it was a real warning in place. One you chose to ignore.

“Well, I doubt it’ll even put a dent on this old thing-“

“I guess ima lil scared for my grandkid.. he’s out fightin’ and he’s no killer. Either he’s gona get eaten or he’s gona be discharged n’ I don’t want neither of those for my boy.”

“They did order to kill, didn’t they?” You sharply acknowledge your own words. Kill.

“I say they had it damn comin’ tryna invade our land like that! But it is a lil harsh innit…? Maybe we should try ta listen to the locals on the other-side, so they overthrow those crooks, finally.”

Crooks, those people weren’t crooks they were defending themselves. Keeping their children safe. The locals are crooks then. You’re a fucking crook.

“Ahem.. $8.53 cash or card Mrs. Pérez—oh, and I’m sorry for one of your grandkids getting stranded here, it just came to mind.”

“No worries, Ally is a-okay with her momma. I’ll be comin in tomorrow, can I help ya close up like usual?”

Some time had passed and you can’t get over the command to execute anyone they thought was suspicious at the North Wall. People are so strange, exerting their own ideas unto people who can’t even express their’s. Control was never a lucky tool that humans picked up that lead to their dominance. It only meant people below them, people, were nothing to them when, infact, they could decimate them if needed. Around 370 years ago the first humans had come to this land—well not the first, many lived here even before we did but the foreigners came upon the soil and claimed it as theres. They had complete monopoly over keeping us their places. Like an invasive species they grew and grew until they were so large not even we, the gardeners, could pluck them. They stuck people who had never known each-other together like sardines and called it a commodity. They killed millions, erased our history and stole our names. Now they banished the “creatures of the wild” past a giant wall to the north, just cutting through the Rocky Mountains. Of course the different species aren’t supposed to be in that climate nor other alien specimen’s that were strange and new in every way imaginable. Britain didn’t care though so they shot us, beat us and made us nothing more than a hunting ground to them. Recently some of the stronger species among the vastly different groups decided to take it upon themselves to destroy this wall and… I can only wish the best for them.

Oh hold on. Didn’t I tell myself not to think about silly rivets of the modern era like this? Why should I worry; I’m a person, with a job, friends, hobbies and most importantly I’m not involved with this war. Once again your sudden reclamation of your own morals makes the entire topic fall far away from your conscious.

You look at the clock situated next to your tiny bed in your apartment. It’s one of those older analogue clocks so it takes you a minute to read. “4:33 am” you finally make out. FUCK! it’s 4 am. You’re supposed to get up in two hours to hike. Maybe you could just skip it? oh no, right—you told Dans that you’d go through the woods with him. He craves social interaction so of course he would be there. You think you could maybe text him to say that you’re running late but that would be you have to acknowledge you even think about him. You don’t want any wrong idea’s so, instead, you decide to get up and go to your favorite spot in the complex. You hope you slept at all this night so that you can just pass this off as waking up early. There’s this overwhelming coppery taste in your mouth and your eyes are almost glassy with your peripheral vision looking like watercolor. You now understand that you wasted an entire night of sleep to think about some conflict that cannot, will not and won’t ever affect you.

You groggily get out of your car. Your head is held low with your shaggy, usually stylized haircut, hanging over your tired eyes. Not only were you shit tired but you also got food poisoning from trying out the coffee situated within your complex’s lobby. It was terrible per the usual of coffee but even more so. You look up at Daniel stupid round face staring back at you. You wonder how he managed to get up to early and gel, comb and presumably wash his hair. Too bad his stupid haircut shows his gray hairs. You noticed it your first time meeting him as he seems relatively young, late twenties even, and he just brushes it off saying it was simply genetic. Since when has hair ever mattered to you? Dear Jinara! You must be tired. You hadn’t notice you started moving up the trail with Dans anxiously snailing behind you.

“Are you alright, Nilva? You seem off,” he sputtered out like an old engine. “Isn’t it warm this morning? you—your coat I mean,”

“What about my coat?”

“It’s awfully hefty for this climate.”

“You yourself said the weather was bad! Don’t pay any mind to my coat, Daniel.” And with that you effectively had shown how great of a companion you are. You continue trudging through the insect filled leaves. Looking back at Daniel, he seems to be looking down with his hair obnoxiously reflecting the sun into your eyes.

“So Dan—“ you begin again.

“How do you feel about those mythos at the North Wall?” His words hit you like a freight train. You sputter for a second, your back aching.

“Well, I don’t care for it. If one of them..” You become more careful with your words. “If a mythos comes to my shop I’ll take their money, K?” Daniel takes a second to register my question.

“I don’t care for them either. They’re just victims of circumstance after-all.”

VICTIMS OF CIRCUMSTANCE?? THEY’RE VICTIMS OF YOU! You hold the die here and you choose whether or not to HELP. I’m not a fucking victim of circumstance I’m a goddamn person. You hear your thoughts trail off into oblivion as you give Dans a soft smile and shake your head before continuing your trail. Noticing your discomfort Daniel peaks his head up to give another brilliant response”

“You know, I met an elf before.”

“Elf?” You suddenly are very engaged with his conversation.

“Yep! A real, genuine mythos. Her name was Luci,”

“Like an elf would give you their name!” you snicker to yourself.

“Or so she told me at least. She was taller than me and had a smile like yours—gracious perfect smile with a hooking bite that allowed me to snuggle into her. I forgot for a couple months after meeting her that she was even actively breaking the law. She was truly an enchantress of magnitudes leagues above me. Maybe that is why I fell for her but after coming to my senses I looked around and found her attempting to steal my assets in my own home. I have not seen her since and I do wish she is well even so.” It suddenly became very hard to speak in response. You stared at him with eyes that darted like the white rapids of the south.

“What did you two first talk about?” You reluctantly utter those simple sum of words.

“You.”

Chapter two - The Wall

The turrets of the planes overhead cloud your thoughts as you feel the F-35 Lightning II plummet towards the ground. You had failed your country miserably and undoubtedly will die alone in a crashed jet. You thought you would’ve been the best in your field but it was deemed you were not in this short precession of actions you had taken. Several days ago, more than you could count, you had been drafted into the Air Force because of your experience with commercial and private flying. You are a young male, barely scraping 25, and had only piloted 8 planes and co piloted 13 until you were drafted. It makes you think for s moment that maybe your gracious state has begun to cut corners before quickly burying that thought. You remember 2 years ago when you first graduated flight school with soaring colors. You weren’t very robust or commanding but you felt you were good at completing objectives. Sometimes you were worried people would judge you for your skin condition, melasma, that made you particularly displeasing to look at and thus with some irrational thinking you thought you’d never be a pilot. Luckily nobody has to see you once you’re in the cockpit. You’re considered very good looking in other aspects(and with some makeup) but people find it hard to comprehend how half of your face and left arm are specked with dark brown compared to the hazelnut skin on the rest of your body. Making matters worst your hair is only a few shades darker then your skin so it blends into your speckled areas.

Eventually, you assumed that it wont really matter much longer since once you crash all you’ll be is a pile of burned human flesh. The flashing screen in front of you barely helps as you fail to pull the idiotic jet up to prevent the crash. You cannot tell if you’re going into the ground or its coming up to you as the world around you becomes a shooting blur of warped greens and drab grays. It almost looks the same as when those space movies do a hyperdrive scene. You try to close your eyes and pretend you’re telling your family you love them before a large WACK is heard.

You open your eyes slightly to see a large tree can penetrated into the hull is inches away from your feet as the planes weight bends it downwards. You quickly unharness yourself from the gravitational death trap realizing that you only have so much time. You pop open the top and jump into a bed of twigs and leaves from the towering spruce tree. Your last memories before leaping is how the tree smelled being burned by the now pile of rubbish’s heated engine. You can remember feeling the wind blow through your neatly trimmed curly hair as you try to pull the emergency cord on your bag to activate the parachute but by the time the cord was pulled you were already only 20 to 40 feet from the ground. You moved yourself to the side seeing the parachute you pulled flapping into the wind and just holding your hands in front of your face. You’re name was Fransisco Pérez—and you won’t let this be how you die.

Suddenly you wake up in a small cot with unfamiliar, flaky, pealing walls that remind you of pre-rolled cigars but in a lighter yellow color. Wait—you’re awake! You survived the accident… and you’re thinking about the walls? You decide thats utter nonsense and attempt to look around but unfortunately notice moving your eyes gives you excruciating pain. Maybe you did die and this is purgatory? I mean you did do some awful things in your life. You killed 7 or more things during your time as a pilot, but you cant be blamed for that! You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep once more so maybe when you open them again it’ll start making some semblance of sense. Your relatively unharmed ears notice a sound though. It is like a concussion of slaps against the ground and murmurs of the present future and past. The concluding words sound something like a trombone in the voice of a person.

“Estonkon cukhayvtikv,”

“Estonkon-cukhayvtikv,” A different voice far too closer repeated in a rushed manner. Were these demons?

“Nake omv hethle?”

“Kérrvks.” You begin to wonder what they want with you as you hear them speak bluntly back and forth.

“Hacoháketv-“ You can’t stand hearing their gibberish anymore. You feel something in you cry out to do something, anything.

“Hh- who are you?!” Your voice comes out in a sharp mix of a screech and a hoarse whisper. You feel the dryness in your throat that snaps back at you like sandpaper when you dared to use your words or even dare move. A long pause that rings out eerily loud begins in procession.

“Cehecathles.” You hear the first speaker say in a harsh, brazen voice before the sound of rustling. You attempt to open your eyes once more to get a glimpse what you assume is your first(and last) of the creature who had come to sit next to you. You feel the thing sitting at the foot of your bed lean over you, its body heating your mostly frozen legs with a cold hand clasping over your orbital sockets.

“Now, don’ta go doin’ that,” You heard the beast say in almost perfect english.

“See you got somethin’ in your—uhm,”

“My other eye?..” You say in that same sort of static-y voice that reminds you of those old tv shows on VHSes that your mom would put on while she cooked. The voice went silent for a few moments before attempting at a response again.

“Yes, we woulda done something but we don’t know how yer eyes work. It ain’t like ours. We know that you got information too or we never had taken ya in otherwise.”

“Human eyes don’t get fixed with—” You begin gasping realizing the sudden pain in your eye has tripple ten fold. You attempt a scream but it comes out in a dry gurgle of your own dead skin and spit washing down your cracked throat. You feel as if you are crying out of the incapacitated eye but you realize in horror as your eyes shoot open that your bleeding out of it with it fucking trickling down into the Sahara that as once your throat. The worst part was you had never felt such greater relieve than having some sloshy warm fluid slide down into your gullet. You don’t have to shift your eyes to see that face thats mutilating you because luckily it had the pleasure to peer directly into your eyes.

It looked like a serpentine of sorts with jaded and jagged scales highlighting what you assume is the check bone in snake terms. Its elongated neck writhed as it worked on your probably now dead eyeball. You could not yet see its full head but you did she its underbelly that happened to have a pattern of light sandy-brown scales and darker coinciding sleek scales underneath the previous going back and forth until it reached the end of the length. The under scales also happened to have a triangular motion to it making them look sharp and menacing that made you think of basic melee sword’s blades. Its main body was presumably just a deep, drab brown with no real pattern. You heard a light swishing sound like that of a babies rattle just to realize it was the creatures tail intentively going back and forth in some sort of concentration. You realize the sound originated from the left of your head. IT WAS USING ITS TAIL TO FIX YOUR EYE? You become enraged with all little hope you had for this place quickly vanishing as you try to move your legs, arms ANYTHING really but you cannot make a single move. The blinding pain prevents you from contracting a single muscle as you lie there motionlessly in a true state of absolute torment.

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ihateeverything101 · 1 year ago

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you're amazing. i'm sorry i will be posting a lot of text today and in the next upcoming days. i found a technique that helps me write what i'm feeling, i've always had a hold up on how much time i spend talking to you. i enjoy it and want more time but i cant. anyways. here is the main post.

Things are hard. I want to talk to you all the time and tell you about everything that is happening. I know I can but it also takes time and effort, I wish we could talk. I know I say that frequently but I feel it frequently! I’m not sure it will work but I am actually typing this on my work computer because I can type faster and I look like I am actually working haha. I’m not on tumblr, only writing this in a word doc then going to copy and paste it from my phone.

The girl that is being added to our relationship, her name is Katie, shes at our house. I am not sure how much I’ve said about it but yeah she flew in yesterday and then is leaving Tuesday, she is staying 6 days. I like her and interacted with her a little bit after work yesterday. She's cute and fun but there are some aspects of her I don't like but I think that is the reality of being in a relationship or meeting new people. There are positives to it but I do feel conflicted and not nice. For example, I had to wake up and get ready and go to work. Char got fired a few months ago, I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to be even more frustrated with him, but I shouldn't protect him, at least not here.

So he hasn't had a job for awhile, he is lightly looking for jobs but for awhile he kept saying that he would commit to it more intensely after Katie left next week. I guess I need to be more of a hardass but it is hard for me and he makes it even harder because he gets emotional and reactive. I do that too but I wish he would have more patience or I'm not sure. He should've been applying to jobs the whole time since he got fired. There were obviously more steps than this but - he started talking to Katie.. I didn’t know how serious it was, they were video chatting and talking all day everyday. He mentioned her visiting and / or moving in eventually but said it as if it would happen in like a year. He didn't give an exact time frame but he did make it seem like that wasn't the plan currently. Then he tells me that she is looking at flights to come and visit, that feels fine to me because it still feels far away. I don't know how serious she or he is. I could've asked but I trusted that he was telling me accurate updated information. The next day he tells me she's booked her flight and trip for 6 days. I get upset and we talk about things. I'm glad we talk about things but I also feel small and idk. I dont have the words for it. Its not like if i didn't want her to move in, that would happen. no. even if I said I dont want this, it doesnt matter and things would continue going. Because that is basically what is happening, ive told him how unhappy i am with this situation and he has asked me when i would be ok or happy with the situation. I dont have an answer for that so I go with the flow and allow him to do what he wants because I feel like my answer is unreasonable. I want another year at least, I want her to move in 2024. Even then it seems too soon, especially with everything happening with Steff. tumblrs being silly and deleted some of what i wrote so imma start another post.

I haven’t read your longer post this morning about not being content with life. I relate and I am sorry you're feeling that way. You're not dating anyone but I feel like we both were in similar “honeymoon” phases of life. We had moved and things were different and better, and they still are, but after a year or so of living the life - it is mundane and normal now. Now we have to try and put in energy to make our lives worth living and fulfilling.

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namuneulbo · 2 years ago

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week sixty-four

this week. woah. it was......... a lot.

well, to start off... i have a crush on v. i figured this out on monday and since then its gotten so severe lol. monday to friday was spent thinking ab him and also apparently not hiding it very well from l. ill come back to this later but this entire chapter will for sure be ab him and also in sm detail.

ive kind of talked a lot ab him and just my “new friends” in general a lot w l and my mom. i think my mom even has suspicions that i like either d or v (bc i talk ab them the most prob).

i started spamming n, s and t and also i, m and t ab him. i wont be able to cover what i told them all individually but n def received the most detailed info yet only one pic (WHICH WAS A HORRIBLY EMBARRASSING ONE I TOOK ON BEREAL WHEN IT CUT EVERYONE OUT AND THEIR POSES SO IT WAS JUST HIM NOT POSING AAAAA I FEEL LIKE A MOM WHO TAKES PICS OF HER KIDS WO CONSENT TT). i talked A LOT w s ab him too and w t i just spammed quickly on monday/tuesday i think, i cant bother checking. when i told i, m and t they immediately asked for a pic and i was scared theyd bully me lol but they said hes solid WOO! s approved of him too, saying the nail polish and his guitar made him seem very much like my type.

ill give u all who might be reading this a lil description of his pros. i would say a reminder to future me as well but yk maybe we end up together so :* heres what weve got so far:

- hes taller than me.

- has a niiiiiice voice.

- nice sense of style. its like basic as in plain colors (pretty much only black, hell wear white sweaters or super dark colors). it looks so good.

- hes a metalhead (+ we have two bands in common, ghost and polyphia).

- piercingssss!

- hes so talented, like he can play guitar, drums AND piano flawlessly.

- hes funny.

now to his cons: he’s not fully single. so. um. idk if theyre dating or in a situationship or just talking but its something for sureeee.

i dont ever want to like, break them up on purpose or like make moves on him while theyre talking bc im not a fucking douchebag. it is quite sad seeing them together though. i cant help but dislike the girl hes w a bit even though i dont want to, shes really cool and gorgeous and nice im just so O_o

on wednesday we had band class and i was MESMERIZED. he had a concert that same day so he was dressed up in a navy button-up, black jeans cuffed over a black pair of chelsea boots. i had to leave a couple times during practice bc i had to practice harmonies w the singers and i remember literally feeling sad ab not being able to stare at him playing the piano so perfectly.

in the evening i went out to the bar for the weekly music quiz they do. i went w a, c and v at first but later on d and p joined (not dan and phil sadly). i was super awkward lol but it was my first time hanging out w just them and it felt so,,,, new to me. im glad i did it though, ig? i got to see him even if it was awkward. also, i think d has my old backpack that i left to a thrift shop. its a floral pattern w black faux leather details and gold buttons. its quite cute and it fits him really well.

i did eventually warm up a bit but nothing crazy.

i was already comfy around c but after wednesday, i was also comfy around d. he was so nice that i even questioned if i liked him as well but turns out i was probably really desperate TT i tend to never be interested in ANYONE when i like someone and thats really obvious now. even though my chances w v r low, i still deleted all my dating apps and stuff bc i dont have the desire to go on them as of rn.

on friday i had been CRAVING a party to go to all day. i was just waiting for someone to send a message saying “yo, party at vs place!”. we usually party at his place. i literally ranted to my mom ab how bad i was hoping for someone to throw a party and this wasnt even just bc of getting to see v but i was genuinely so socially starved. finally, around 19:30 id say, someone sends a message in the class gc telling everyone ab a party at his place. i immediately message l begging for them to come w me and even saying if they dont, ill go either way bc i want to go so bad. they end up declining and i go to the party myself. i get ready in a few minutes, just fixing my day-old makeup and eating and drinking water and stuff so i wont throw up the second i drink alcohol. i was so quick and i was walking w such speed around the house so i think my mom has probably started to connect the dots now that theres someone i like bc im never that excited ever. i leave along w my mom who took the dog out for a walk. since v lives so nearby she walked w me pretty much the entire way.

id never usually be this confident but i had been talking w s the entire day and she hyped me up SO much. i actually love her sm for that. i arrive there, v throws down his keys from the balcony, i catch them and go up to his apartment. i was a tad bit quiet in the beginning but i really tried to force myself to just relax and look cool and i did after a little while. we blasted metal and one of the first things they did was that everyone of them, c, d and v, went out for a smoke so i joined in even though i dont smoke but i enjoyed the lil passive smoking sesh on the tiny balcony, stuck behind d and v.

(bereal just went off, vs so cute).

anyways, i quite quickly felt more relaxed, i kinda forced myself to sit more,, relaxed and stop fidgeting and i got more included in the convo by queueing songs to play. i first asked v to queue kingslayer by bmth and babymetal and he was super excited ab it so i was so glad he liked it. we listened to it on a party a whileeee ago and i remember being so excited ab the fact that he liked that song too. a had arrived by now and hes v good to have there in that sense that he will make me join in the convo somehow if i havent talked in a while. he made me queue another song and i queued drowning lessons by mcr. i was so caught by surprise and i always get so shit at using tech shit and the internet in front of ppl, idk why, so v started guiding me on what buttons to press TT i hadnt thought of drowning lessons in the first place actually but i just kind of naturally went w mcr for some reason and then ended up choosing my fav song by them. we listened to it and v was like “DID HE JUST VOICE BREAK???” and i was like “oh, maybe? i mean its their first album so the mixing and recording might be a bit shit” and he replayed the part and was like “THERE IS A VOICE BREAK!” and c started explaining to him in distress that its just how u sing punk TT after a while v was like “its still going? how long is it?” and checked and it was right before the outro and i was like “waittt, we havent gotten to the best part yet!” and he leaves it and the breakdown comes and he does a stankface and just looks at me like “oh, a breakdown ending, hell yeah!” and i was so happy haha

last song i queue is taking you out by passcode. as i was typing it v read out what i was typing and kept guessing songs, heh, it was so cute. he asked me ab the band and stuff and then said like “oh, she growls really well for a woman” and the proceeds to elaborate in distress that he didnt mean it in a misogynistic women-cant-growl type of way but in a its-genuinely-harder-for-a-woman-to-do-metal-growls. it was quite cute, he tends to do that a lot, like overexplaining things so ppl dont think hes being a dickhead even though he says very normal things TT its so cute and it really shows that he cares.

i mentioned that i was ab to start learning growling w my vocal teacher and how she also said she wants to get the singer of finntroll to come and teach growling to me (WHICH IS SO COOL???). v was like “oh my god, im also ab to practice growling w my vocal teacher” and then when i told him ab the singer of finntroll thing he got so excited and just “what??? for real??? thats so cool???” and proceeds to be like “omg, when ur w him tell him uve got a friend who wants to have a lesson w him too” and c joins in and says the same. i felt so cool in that moment haha

me, c and d went out to go meet the ppl from school who had been touring all week. before we left i went to pee and literally on the toilet i was smiling sm bc i felt so comfy and happy and all that in that moment like, i was talking to him??? and he was talking back???? and he smiled???? he wanted to talk to me????? i did a lil happy jump sesh after i washed my hands. then otw to school, me, c and d were jumping around and running and yelling. them bc they were drunk, me bc i was so excited abt finally feeling comfy w them + obviously getting to talk to v successfully after crushing so hard on him the past week. i was so happy too bc i finally felt like i kind of belong. i felt for the first time true that like “oh my god, they dont hate me!”. so while meeting the ppl at school i was sooooo happy and like greeting everyone and just smiling and feeling so cool and included and aaaaaaa i was so happy i cant even explain it. c and d r the coolest ppl ever!!!

we went back w s + we left d behind for a bit, sorry d!! now this was when i was truly connecting the dots between s and v. partypooper. i did tag along to the bar w all of them afterwards though. i just went by my place to eat something and get my id.

i arrived to the bar and i sat down next to c at first but later moved next to d so i could sit on the couch. me and c went to buy drinks and then d left to go smoke. there was an awkward space between me and v so i tried to subtly move closer to him and later when d came back he just sat in the spot i sat earlier so i sat between him and v.

more ppl arrived and i ended up becoming squished between d and v. NOW THIS. this changed me as a whole human being. i have been terrified of men all my life and w not specific reason bc the thing is that its not rooted in like, being scared that theyll do something, i just genuinely get more tense around men than women. this moment was so, special to me and not just bc i was squished next to v and our arms and legs were in constant touch but like, i got this kind of realization that, maybe i dont need to be nervous. like, theres nothing to worry ab. i trust d and v. theyre really nice. d i was already comfy w since wednesday and v i just that evening got comfy w. although i am touch deprived i really just,,, felt so happy, safe and relaxed in a group if people, in the middle of two men. i didnt feel the need to fidget out of nervousness and stuff. i was just, calm.

v looks over at me and asks me how drunk im planning to get. he himself says he wants to be so drunk he throws up. i jokingly reply saying i dont want to throw up. he starts showing me a scale w his hands, going down from ten and giving each level its own name so like “this is throw up drunk, this is like this and this is that...” and i end up saying i wanna get slighty above drunk and hes just like “so like a six?” and i nod. he says something along the lines of “thats cool, thats solid”.

later a girl sits next to d and begins talking w her. he starts whispering w v over my lap and i just sit there laughing awkwardly, hoping someone would notice and laugh w me as well. they dont talk for too long but they do this again later and talk for like two minutes straight over my lap and i just use this time to admire vs back and his ear piercings. d apologises and i chuckle and tell him its fine and that i didnt mind (i really did not bc i am truly so touch-starved). d later tells me ab this girl and bc of the music he has to really be close to my ear and talk w me. we talk like that for a while and he says hes glad i understand his situation. long story short, this girl had apparently been trying to flirt w him even though he has a girlfriend. i think he handled the situation really well.

v once again looks over at me, this time as were both kind of resting against the booth, bodies facing each other. he just asked how i was feeling today but it felt so intimate and i was savoring the conversation and eye contact as much as i could. i told him that i was really craving social interaction today so i was really glad i could tag along w them. he acted a bit funnily so i asked him how drunk he was. he said he feels a bit sick. idk why but that convo was so :’) i am TREASURING it.

him and s decided to leave, making almost everyone else leave. i stayed for a bit w a and c and some other unknown ppl but decided to leave after a bit. while me, a and c went out when they went to smoke i saw a bunch of ppl from both elementary and middle school. d, l, n and t. i was kind of hoping one of them wouldve noticed me earlier while i was w v and all the others so they could be like “omg shes sitting next to two guys, i wonder if shes dating anyone of them” or like “omg she has such cool friends now”.

okay, thats all on friday. saturday however, i met up w l for a bit, i tell them ab my crush on v. i sit them down, hold their hands and keep eye contact.

“so on wednesday we had a conversation on tiktok and i talked ab how boy obsessed i am feeling these days, right?”

they continue looking at me, asking me if this is ab e. i dont tell them yet.

“so after i said that, u said ‘well as long as its not d or v bc ik theyre the only friends we have but i assure u there r better alternatives’”

they begin staring at me in shock and yell:

“l! not them, omg! which one is it- no, wait. let me guess... d?”

i look at them for a bit before replying: “its not d.”

“ITS V? L, NO U CANT!” and they kick me as im laughing so hard im falling of the bed.

“IT IS! i have a fucking crush on v!”

we talk ab this for a while and i tell them ab friday and all that and it was sm fun lol

after me and l ahd hung out i went out to a proper party held at school. like dancing-beer-pong-bar kind of party. i met d and some others outside of the enterance and say hi. i then go inside and immediately meet c and c. they bring me to the dance floor and shows me where all the drinks r and everything. i see v playing beer pong. i dont like dancing at all so i join for a bit but leave soon enough. i sit and talk w a for a while. when v sat down on the same couch i was in i told a who was sitting on the other side that she could sit down on the couch properly instead of just sitting on the armrest and so she did and my evil plan worked, i got to move even closer to v. after a while it was finally our turn to play beer pong, we played w just water though. it was my first time playing and i was in the same team as a. she was so good? we played again v and two others. it was so humilating to play against v but my team won thanks to a. she was really awesome. during our last cup, v tried distracting me by hovering his hands over the cup but it literallyt made me aim better bc i could look at his hands TT he only distracted me w his hands and never a.

i left after s arrived to the party bc i got so sad seeing her w v lol but i was overwhelmed by the party anyways lol

sotw: bring me the horizon - alligator blood

#diary #tumblr diary #namuneulbo

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moon-light-jukebox · 4 years ago

Text

Our boy - [Reid x Reader]

Summary: Spencer Reid is anything but calm when his wife, reader, goes into labor.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Wholesome AF

Word Count: 2.3k

Category: Pure fluff. Maybe some angst if you squint, just because childbirth is angsty.

Content Warning: None that I can think of.

A/n: This is just a quick little idea that popped into my head earlier. I wrote it all in one go. We don’t get enough Dad!Spencer. 😊 Reader’s labor was inspired by true events.

y/n = your name. italicized block of text is a flash back.

-- Our boy --

“Babe, you have got to calm down.” I didn’t even bother opening my eyes to look at my husband; I was too tired.

His voice was as close to a squawk as I have ever heard. “I am calm, y/n!” That had me cracking one eye open to stare at him, which caused him to huff out a short laugh. “Okay, maybe I’m not calm. But how can I be calm?” His beautiful brown eyes were swimming with worry. “This has taken such a long time, and you’re so tired. The doctor said things haven’t been progressing.”

“Oh, come on, doctor,” I said teasingly. “I’m sure that big brain of yours knows that it’s not uncommon for first time mothers to labor for a long time.”

“But it’s been thirty hours,” he protested.

“I’m aware. Talk to your son.” I pointed to my very large stomach. “This is his show.”

That caused him to smile, the first real smile I had seen on his face since he arrived here, about an hour after I did. We knew this was coming, I was overdue, our son choosing to stay inside my body for 41 weeks and 6 days. The doctors had said if I hit 42 weeks that we needed to discuss inducing labor. Because of that conversation, Spencer wasn’t with the rest of the team, they were on some case in god knows where, instead he was helping at headquarters with Penelope. The same woman I had called when my water broke. I wanted to call Spencer, I really did…but my husband is prone to overact, especially in situations like this.

Turns out calling Penelope wasn’t any better.

“Hello, Mrs. Dr. Reid!” she had chirped.

“Hi Penelope. Is my husband around?”

“He is with the second love of his life.”

Which meant he had made a coffee run. I laughed, despite the pain rippling across my stomach. “Okay, well, I need you to pull him away for the first love of his life. My water just broke.”

There was a beat of silence before the screaming started. “YOUR WHAT JUST WHAT?!”

Just at that moment I heard him in the background. “Garcia,” my husband said. “Who’s what did what?”

“Penelope, be-“

It was no use; she had already started screaming at him. “YOUR WIFE! YOUR SON IS TRYING TO EXIT HER LADY BUSINESS! WE HAVE TO GO!!”

They then promptly hung up, only to call back a few minutes later and ask which hospital I was at.

There was a knock on the door, drawing me out of my memories. “Mrs. Reid?” the doctor called before walking into the room. She was a short woman with curly grey hair; Spencer and I had never met her before, she was just the doctor on call, but something about her demeanor put me at ease.

I gave her a wan smile. “Hey Doc.”

She marched into the room them, no nonsense to be found; which was unfortunate, I was a very big fan of nonsense as perfectly highlighted by the man I chose to marry. “Mrs. Reid, I need to check to see where you’re at,” she said, already snapping on her gloves.

“Knock yourself out.” At a certain point during labor modesty just vanishes. I don’t even want to think about how many people have seen my vagina today.

I felt some pressure for a few seconds before she pulled back. “You’re still at 5 centimeters.”

This comment got a groan from my husband. “But she has to get to 10!”

“I’m aware, Dr. Reid.”

“She’s been in labor for 30 hours and 23 minutes and 16 seconds!”

“I am also aware of that, Dr. Reid,” she said, suppressing a smile. “Which is why we need to have a little chat.” She turned to me. “Mrs. Reid, I’m concerned about the baby.”

That caused mine and Spencer’s spines to stiffen. “What,” I asked. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Not yet,” the doctor said hurriedly. “We have been monitoring your contractions and vitals…but we also monitor the baby’s heartrate. It’s nothing to be too alarmed about now, but his heartrate has slowed a bit.”

“But what does that mean? Is he in destress?” My husband asked; he sounded so afraid that I instinctively reached out to grasp his hand.

“It means he’s tired, Dr. Reid.” She offered us a small smile. “Mrs. Reid isn’t the only one going through this. The baby is too. Like I said, it’s not low enough to be an issue now, but if it drops much lower, we need to discuss other options.”

“…he’s tired?” my voice cracked on the last word, tears already pricking in the corners of my eyes.

“Baby,” Spencer whispered, leaning over to place a kiss on my temple. “It’s alright.”

I shook my head. “It’s not. It’s not alright. He’s my baby, Spencer. He’s our baby,” I all but bawled at him. “Our baby is tired.” I’m sure one day I’ll look back at this moment and feel silly for how upset I had become…but I was so tired, and while the epidural numbed the pain, I still felt it. All of that I could endure, but I couldn’t endure this.

“I know,” he soothed. “But he’s fine. He’s okay.”

“I want to discuss other options,” I said, meeting the doctor’s gaze. “What are they?”

The doctor nodded, “Well, we could start a Pitocin IV. That’s a medicine we use to-“

“Cause the uterus to contract and speed up or induce labor,” Spencer interrupted, causing me to laugh, despite my tears. Even in times like this he was still…Spencer.

The doctor did not share in my amusement. “Yes,” she huffed. “That is one option. It runs the same risks, if his heartrate drops, we’ll need to move you to the O.R.” I gulped and Spencer squeezed my hand. “The other option is to take you back to the O.R. now.”

I looked over at Spencer, his eyes were wide and frightened, his always messy, curly hair was in a worse state than usual, his clothes were wrinkled. “I want our boy, Spence.”

He just nodded, bringing our joined hands up to his mouth to press a kiss to my knuckles. “It’s up to you, y/n. You know I’ll support whatever you want.”

Spencer gave me the courage to turn to face the doctor. “Let’s do it.”

Things progressed very quickly and very slowly at the same time. The room started bustling with different people doing different things to get me ready. Spencer called Penelope, who called the rest of his team, who were now all in the waiting room. How much Spencer’s co-workers at the FBI cared about him made me smile; they were his family, and by extension my family. Our little boy was going to be the most well looked after child in history.

Before I knew it, I was laying on my back in the operating room, a blue sheet put up just below my boobies. Apparently, most people didn’t want to watch themselves have a c-section. I couldn’t but laugh at the absurdity of the moment.

“What is it, my love?”

I turned my head to look at Spencer. His clothes were covered by some sort of yellow outfit, his hair was stuffed in one of those blue hat’s hospitals make you wear, I’m sure he could tell me the proper name, even his shoes were covered. One of his hands was gripping mine, the other slowly stroking the top of my head.

“I was just thinking about everything. Remember when we met?”

I realized how silly it was to ask a man with an eidetic memory if he remembered something right after I said it, something with which he agreed, given the look on his face. “Yes, y/n, I remember.” His hand squeezed mine tightly. “It was a Tuesday morning, at 7:34 a.m. You had on black pants and a light blue top, you didn’t notice me, but I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.”

That caused a tear to slide down from the corner of my eye, only to be wiped away by my husband. “I didn’t notice you because you were in line behind me,” I teased.

“That’s no excuse,” he insisted. “I would notice you anywhere.”

That made my heart squeeze in my chest. “I must be pretty special,” I surmised. “I pulled your attention away from coffee.”

His voice was breathy, his eyes shimmering. “You’re the most special thing in the entire world, y/n. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. I don’t know how I got the courage to speak to you when you walked by me, but I’ll be grateful that I did it for the rest of my life.”

It was my turn to reach up and wipe a tear from his face. “I’m glad you stopped me,” I whispered. “Our little guy probably is too.”

Spencer didn’t laugh like I expected him to; instead he bit his lip, his eyes bouncing from my face to the blue curtain that separated us from the doctors.

“What is it, baby?”

He swallowed, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m scared, y/n,” he whispered. “I’m afraid that I won’t be any good at this. I never had a dad…What if I’m not everything he needs me to be?”

I felt my heart crack in half. “Spencer, that’s not possible,” I insisted, ignoring the way he started to shake his head. “You could never let anyone down, especially not your family. Especially not your son. You are going to be the most amazing father. You’re going to love our son so much; you already do love him that much, Spence.”

He was crying in earnest now. “But, y/n,”

Spencer never got to finish that sentence. The doctor suddenly interrupted our hushed conversation. “Okay, dad,” she called. “Here he comes!”

My husband placed a kiss on my forehead before he stood up, looking over the curtain. He had insisted beforehand that he wasn’t going to look; he said he didn’t want to see me like that, but I knew he’d end up looking. My husband was far too curious to do anything else.

A shrill cry cut through the air, causing my heart to stop. That was him. I had never heard him cry before, but I knew that sound as sure as I knew my own name; that was my son.

Spencer and I were crying when the doctor brought him around the curtain so I could see him. He was wrinkly, red, and looked positively furious. I had never loved anything more.

They took him to the examination room to make sure he was breathing okay. Spencer had told me after c-section births this was normal. “They don’t get squeezed when they’re born,” he had said. “So, the nurse checks them over, weighs them, all that.”

He looked down at me, tears streaming down his face, then back towards our son.

“Go,” I urged him. “Go get our boy, Spence. I’m fine.”

Spencer’s head poked through the door of my room. “Are you ready?” he asked.

“REID. If you don’t get the fuck out of my way and let me see my godson I swear to GOD.”

“Oh,” I groaned, giggling slightly, despite the pain. “Please don’t make me laugh.”

I don’t know if Spencer moved willingly or if Penelope had just had enough, but soon the door was thrown open and a parade of people poured inside.

“Oh, my god, Mrs. Dr. Reid,” Penelope gushed, her hands hovering over my son, then back up towards my face. “You look like an angel. How did you just have major surgery? How did you just give birth, because a c-section is giving birth-“

“Penelope,” I cut her off. “Do you want to see him?”

“Gimme.”

I pulled the blankets down around his body, staring at his little face before I handed him over.

“Oh, my mother effin god,” she whispered, looking around at everyone else in the room. “He is the most beautiful child I have ever seen. He even looks like a genius. I don’t know if you can look like a genius, but I think he does.”

“You don’t have to whisper, Garcia,” my husband said, coming to stand beside me, leaning over to kiss my forehead again. “She is right though, Mrs. Dr. Reid. You’re beautiful.”

“Quit hogging the baby,” JJ said, reaching for him. “I’m the co-god mother. Hand him over.”

Emily leaned over JJ’s shoulder, staring at him with a look of wonder. “What did you guys decide to name him?”

“Arthur,” I said quietly. “His name is Arthur Spencer Reid.”

The room was dark when I opened my eyes, my head turning towards the tiny cry that woke me up.

“I know, I know,” my husband whispered to the tiny bundle in his arms. “I miss your mom too; she’s the best person in the world and I wish she could be awake all the time too.” I bit my lip, trying to suppress my laugh. “But you have to let her sleep some, little man.” My son gave another cry. “I know, believe me.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice thick with sleep.

“Talking to Arthur,” he said simply. “You know, speaking to a child whenever they reach the babbling stage of their cognitive development is actually very important. It encourages them to learn the language they’re hearing. You know, children are actually experts at learning languages. Studies have shown that children that become fluent in a language before the age of 13 are often able to fool native speakers into thinking they’re native speakers themselves.”

“Huh,” I said, smiling like a dope. That was my Spencer. “Did you hear that, Arthur? It sounds like your dad wants to teach you some languages.”

“Only a couple,” he whispered to our boy. Then he looked up at me, his eyes bright, despite the dark circles under them.

“You’re tired, babe,” I said, moving to sit up. “Give him here, you can get some rest.”

He just shook his head. “No, I’m alright. You rest.” Spencer looked down at his son again, who was already back to sleep. “No dream I have could be better than this.”

As usual, Dr. Spencer Reid was absolutely right.

Taglist: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace

#Spencer Reid #Dr. Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid fluff #Reid fluff #Criminal minds fluff #Criminal minds imagine

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theasstour · 4 years ago

Photo

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟑.𝟒𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

A/N: Thank you to the lovelies who nominated Strange Tides, Baby Blue, and moi for the 1D Craft Awards 🌊🐚 If you have the time and feel like spreading some love, go vote for your fave fics and authors here ✨ ENJOYYY CHAPTER 5! x

Tuesday, 7 July

“I’d say you’re doing quite alright for someone who has just gotten into knitting,” Bessie said, looking at Y/N’s creation over the rim of her glasses. “What technique did your mother teach you again, sweets? ‘Cause you’re a natural.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Y/N answered honestly, taking her blue square back. “Are there different types of knitting styles?”

Bessie’s laugh was warm and joyous, looking out at Camila, Florence, and Barb, who smiled at Y/N. Though Y/N had been scared of being judged by these women for not knowing how to properly knit at first, there was nothing but kindness and appreciation in their eyes. It seemed they really were just happy to see the beginning of Y/N’s knitting journey. They had all been beyond helpful, taking their time and being patient with her as she learned the ins and outs of knitting. She was still not sure what she was making, but she was knitting a bunch of squares to start off, and she would see where to go from there.

“So,” Florence said, turning her attention back on the knitting in front of her. “What do you think of St Ives thus far, Y/N? Is it living up to your expectations?”

“You’ve been here a month now,” Bessie said, shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite believe it. And Y/N couldn’t believe it herself. Time had flown by so incredibly fast it did not seem quite real. It seemed like only yesterday she had checked in here and met Bessie, or when she ran into Harry and started their little thing. It just did not seem real that time had gone by this fast. In a month’s time, summer would almost be over and she would have to start thinking about checking out and finding out what to do next. Going back home to Winchester was out of the question, but she didn’t really have anywhere else to go.

Y/N took a deep breath, telling herself not to think about that now. Debating what to do after she checked out of The Roaming Crab Inn could be done at another time, not while she was knitting with four lovely ladies. For someone who had lived her whole life with a plan laid out for her near and far future, Y/N was awfully relaxed about the prospect of the chapter of her life that would start once she left St Ives in August.

“I love it here,” she answered truthfully, finding some red yarn so she could start knitting a red square. “I’ve met so many people while staying here, it’s been amazing.”

“It’s been fun to meet Harry’s family as well,” Barb said. “If your name comes up in conversation when we’re at the chess club, Jessa won’t shut up. She’s so proud Harry’s dating such a lovely lady.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, both because she took pride in that compliment but also because she knew Jessa wouldn’t think of her like that when she and Harry “broke up” later.

“Speaking of people you’ve met, my son tells me you went to the pub with him, Harry, and their little group.” Florence looked at Y/N, smiling. “Did he invite you to his birthday this Saturday?”

“Yeah, Harry told me we were invited,” Y/N said.

“Dax and Harry have been close ever since Harry came to St Ives. He even slept at the lighthouse for close to a month after Harry’s father got lost at sea.”

Y/N stopped knitting. When she looked over at Florence again, the older woman was already knitting so she didn’t notice Y/N’s sudden interest. She looked over at Bessie who only gave Y/N a nod as to confirm what Florence had just said, and in that second Y/N was very happy Bessie knew her and Harry’s relationship was only pretend.

“The day they found the empty boat was absolutely horrible. All of St Ives in mourning. Remember it like it was yesterday,” Camila went on, sighing dramatically. “Devastating time.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Bessie chimed in. “It is such a sad time to reminisce about.”

“Yes, no reason we should think about such things,” Barb went on. “I’m sure it’s a touchy subject for Y/N as well, seeing as Harry is so close to her.”

Y/N focused entirely on her knitting, not really wanting to say anything in regards to Harry’s dad. She knew he died, but she hadn’t really questioned how that happened. For some reason, Y/N had assumed he had been sick, but knowing something happened to Harry’s dad while he was at sea… she didn’t know how to feel. Was it worse to have a loved one be sick and know the end was inevitable and close, or to have them ripped suddenly and unexpectedly out of your life?

“I’m sorry for bringing the mood down, girls,” Florence said, letting a bright laugh escape her lips. “Maybe we need some tea to brighten up our mood some?”

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Bessie said, getting up from her seat. “Y/N, dear, would you give me a helping hand?”

“Of course.”

Y/N got up and followed Bessie inside to the kitchen, the three others chattering away as the two started making a new batch black tea. Bessie busied herself with finding some mugs, her sugar, and milk, as Y/N just stood beside the kettle and waited for it to finish boiling. With her arms crossed, her mind wandered off to all those times Harry mentioned his dad and his death, not once had he mentioned he was sick, so Y/N didn’t know where she had gotten that idea from. She knew it was not something she should be speculating or thinking about, but right then, she could not help herself.

Instead of thinking about something so tragic, she forced herself to think about Dax’s birthday party the coming weekend. Harry had only mentioned it in passing yesterday, but Y/N was already looking forward to it. There wasn’t much else she did now anyway besides knit, read for the UCAT, and lie about being in a relationship. Throwing some partying into that mix seemed like a bit of fun.

Saturday, 11 July

“I’m about to do it,” Y/N said, eyes on her laptop screen in front of her. Her white summer dress blew a little in the wind from the open window beside her, but the breeze was welcomed, as it always was in Cornwall.

Harry looked up from where he was going through some bills on his couch, wearing his red knitted jumper along with a pair of short dungaree shorts. Y/N was sat on the other side of his tiny house in the windowsill beside his bed. It was big enough to fit her, her books, and laptop, it was kind of her spot now.

“I’m really about to do it,” Y/N repeated, more for her own sake than for Harry’s - who was a little confused and sat with his mouth open, waiting for her to elaborate – because she simply could not believe she was doing this.

“What?” Harry asked after a while, and when Y/N met his eyes, he blinked a few times as if readying himself for whatever she was about to say.

“Apply for the UCAT exam.”

Last week, Y/N had taken Harry up on his offer to study for her UCAT exam at his place. She came over Friday, and upon seeing her walking up to his house around 8:30, Harry walked toward her on the gravel path. She didn’t know why, but she liked that he did that instead of just standing stoic and just watching her. It made her almost feel urgently desired at his house when he did that.

“Hi,” Y/N greeted as they fell into step beside one another. “Report time?”

“Yeah, just walking around and checking everything.”

She smiled. “And so you walked over here to check on me?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

Y/N wanted to laugh, but Harry was looking at the gravel in front of him, lips sucked into his mouth as if telling himself to shut up. He walked her all the way into his house, telling her to make herself feel at home. She sat down by the round table and placed her books out before her, sighing a little to herself as she opened the first one to the page she’d left off on last time. Before going about his day of lightkeeper chores, he made her a cup of tea and told her to help herself to anything in the fridge. He left in a hurry to report, and Y/N didn’t see much of him till two hours later, when he came inside to look through some paperwork.

The rest of the week, she’d popped by almost every single day and then stayed for hours on end. Though she’d mostly been studying, she had also stayed a little longer just to hang out with Harry. She felt safe on Clodgy Point, with Harry, who, once she got him talking about something he found interesting, would talk someone’s ear off. It was so nice to hang out with someone her own age. Someone who would curse and who didn’t need to gossip all the time. There was something so relaxing about Harry’s presence and his little bungalow that attracted Y/N. She simply could not study in her own room anymore, and Harry didn’t seem to mind. He’d meet her on the gravel path and walk her to his house before he went off to report, every single day without fail. She always looked forward to seeing him there, a sight that made the moors around her seem less turbulent and the world a little more colourful.

Though she sat by the door the first two days, she ended up in the windowsill after a while. When Harry caught her there, he asked if her bum wouldn’t get numb from sitting there all day, to which Y/N jokingly said not to worry, she could just bring a cushion next time, though she always forgot. She didn’t mind though; she liked that windowsill so much that her sore arse didn’t bother her. It also seemed Harry liked that his windowsill was being used, because at one point, he brought his Super 8 camera out, taping her doing her work in the windowsill.

On Monday, something happened that took Y/N’s breath away. Harry walked into the house, zipping his mouth shut when their eyes met as if to tell her he didn’t intend on interrupting her. He made himself something to eat for lunch and sat by the round kitchen table, minding his own business and looking out of the window beside him every now and again for some sort of entertainment. Once he was done eating, he washed his plate up and then, instead of walking back out to work, he walked over to his piano. Y/N immediately sat up a bit straighter, resting her hands on her bent knee as she watched Harry open the piano chair, pull a notebook out, and then sit down once he closed it.

Harry’s hands hovered over the keys before he slowly started pressing down on them, producing the softest melody Y/N thought she might have ever heard. He moved along with the piece, feeling the rhythmic waves take over his body and guide him through the history that melody held. It was clear Harry had some sort of attachment to that piece. Y/N didn’t know how carefully musicians played, how much attention and care they gave to each of the pieces they performed, but there was something graceful and almost intimate about watching Harry perform that piece. Y/N simply could not put her finger on it, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Once he was done playing that specific melody, about to start the next one, Y/N opened her mouth, “What’s that piece called?”

Harry looked at her over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows some as if he hadn’t heard her right.

“Is it well-known?”

“No, uhm…” He furrowed his brows some, looking at the dresser stood beside the piano where a few photos were placed. “I wrote it myself?”

“You did?”

“Yeah, it’s a few years old.”

Y/N couldn’t help her smile. “Does the piece have a title?”

Harry nodded slowly. “Saving Grace,” he explained. “It’s got a dual meaning.”

“Which is?”

“Well, I was 20 when Grace was born. Until then I hadn’t really been around babies, so it took some getting used to when Grace was around most of the time. It had only been my dad and me for a long time, then Jessa came into our lives, which ultimately brought Gracie.” Harry looked out the window Y/N sat in. “It had been a very… content life till then. Nothing spectacular, Dad and I really did love each other and were best friends since before Mum left us when I was 6. But…” He trailed off. “But then came Jessa and Grace, and they truly changed all that. They made us so happy.”

A warmness that was not due to the hot temperature outside, made its way like a wave down Y/N’s body.

“Grace became my little person, you know? Though I worked at St Ives Bakery and had friends, I still didn’t know what I wanted to really do with my life. I was about to apply to study music at uni, but… I dunno, I just didn’t. Grace became my purpose for a little while. I earned money so I could take her places and buy her ice cream, or I taught her how to walk, talk, and we did everything together.” Harry turned back to the piano, playing the first few notes slowly. “This melody came to me when I watched her walk without trouble around the moors outside, she was looking at flowers and she was so happy. The melody tries to capture that moment and how perfect that day was.” He stopped, glancing at the sheet in front of him. “She was two years old.”

“So, essentially, you try to capture feelings and moments in your music?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any other pieces?”

Harry chuckled, looking over his shoulder at her. “You know, the reason I started playing was to help you concentrate. Piano music is great for that.”

“Sod my work, I want to know more about your music.”

“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, turning his body in her direction now. “I’ve never heard you say that word before! Never heard you speak like that!”

Y/N laughed, but persuaded Harry to play a few of his other pieces before he went back to work.

That Saturday when Y/N brought up the exam, Harry hadn’t played any piano. He sometimes would, both to calm himself down, but also to help Y/N concentrate. She would sometimes take breaks just to listen to him, but his playing really did help her focus. Harry was doing some of his work in the house that Saturday, probably to keep her company, but she was very happy he was there. She needed someone to talk this through with.

There was an instant pull to the edges of Harry’s lips, something that he didn’t have to think about, it was instinctive and genuine. A slight breath left his mouth, almost like something of a chuckle, a relief of sorts that made her all hot. He smiled and got up from the couch, a reason for his movements as if he moved a little easier now that he’d just heard that.

“Are you really?” he asked, taking his tea mug and nodding at Y/N’s beside her. She picked it up and handed it to him.

“I mean, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, and I feel like it’s stupid to study for an exam if I’m never going to take it.”

“That makes sense, yeah.”

“So, I’m just gonna do it now.”

Harry put their mugs down, filling up the kettle before making another round. Y/N liked that he just assumed she wanted another cuppa. She liked the fact he made her this hot beverage that took a long time for someone to drink up. That he made her several a day. She really liked that.

“I’m thinking, you’ve been reading for weeks and you clearly know the material, you might as well,” Harry said.

“There’s just… I dunno…”

“What?”

“No.”

Harry was quiet, so when Y/N looked at him, he was already looking at her, waiting for her to continue. Both knew she wouldn’t hold back once she’d already started saying something.

“I’m scared I won’t show up.”

Harry frowned. “Why? That something is gonna come up?”

“No, that I’ll just oversleep on purpose or find any possible solution so I won’t have to go. Maybe my brain will refuse to revise the entire week before it, I tended to do that in school. When I have an opportunity to, I make things hard for myself.”

Harry plopped two sugars into her cuppa. “I won’t let that happen.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “How, you’re gonna carry me out of my room and to your van, then drive me to the exam?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

She laughed, looking back at the laptop in front of her as Harry walked over, putting the tea down beside her.

“Thanks,” she said.

“I think you should just do it.”

“I know I should, but… once I sign up, it’s all happening. It’s not just something I’m thinking about doing, it’s actually happening and there’s a date I gotta work toward.” She sighed. “It’s not just a dream anymore.”

“It stopped being ‘just a dream’ the second you bought those books,” Harry said, sipping his tea as Y/N looked up at him where he stood beside her. “When you started reading, you knew what you were doing and yet you did it anyway.”

She studied him for a second, meeting his eyes the second before she turned back to the laptop. “Guess you’re right.”

“I’m right.”

She flung her arm out, hitting him just across his knee. “Cocky.”

“No,” Harry giggled. “I’m correct. You should try being it sometime.”

“Tone it down!”

Harry laughed, walking back over to his paperwork again. He sat working for a bit longer, finishing his tea before he put everything back in the folder and walked back out of the house and to the lighthouse. When the front door slammed shut, it was like Y/N was slapped out of a sort of trance. She had just been looking at the UCAT website, mouse hovering over the ‘Register and Book’ button, mind somewhere else completely. She remembered what Harry said, how registering and taking this exam wouldn’t make this dream of hers reality all of a sudden, she had done that herself when she started deliberately revising for the UCAT.

She clicked the button and made herself a new user on the website. Reading through everything carefully, Y/N felt her heart picking up speed. It was dawning on her that she was really doing this, despite everything, she was finally registering to take the test. The next few minutes as she took all of this in, she completely forgot where she was. All she knew was the information being fed to her. The wind, the sun, the fly flying around her head, nor whatever Harry was doing was any of her concern. She focused entirely on registering and booking a date. A fee of £75 had to be paid, and though Y/N would never have thought about paying that kind of money before, she hesitated now.

She didn’t have a job, her parents weren’t providing for her anymore because… well, she wasn’t talking to them, so she only had the money on her one card left. Though she was sure she could afford the test fee, there would come a time when she couldn’t. Money had never been a problem until now. This hadn’t been something she thought about before, it hadn’t been a problem then because her parents were filthy rich, but she recognised this now. However, this test had been on her mind for years and it was something she really wanted to do, so spending money on it wasn’t something she needed to feel guilty about. Y/N paid the fee and sat there staring at her screen as a ‘Thanks for your booking’ popped up on her screen. Her test was September 10th. That was in two months. In two months she would be taking the UCAT.

She got up from the windowsill, shaking her clammy hands to dry them some, a shaky breath leaving her parted lips as her heart galloped inside her chest. It didn’t feel real. None of it felt real. She was doing the UCAT exam. This was her first big step into dentistry. She was actually doing what she had been dreaming of doing for years now.

She had no idea what made her do it but she walked out of the house, instinctively walking towards the lighthouse. Harry was already halfway to the cottage from the lighthouse, halting a little at Y/N’s abrupt exit. She stopped when she saw him.

“I did it.”

Those three words took a few seconds for Harry to comprehend, but when he did, he gave her the biggest grin she’d ever seen on his face. His eyes completely disappeared behind his cheekbones, crinkles appearing beside them, and his crooked smile was accompanied with his brilliant dimples that breathed light and meaning into every situation they were present in. The sight of it made her own appear and she put a hand over her chest, feeling her heart still going hard against her ribcage. Harry must have not thought a lot of it, because he nearly opened his arms, but they quickly fell to his side. Next, he went to give her a high five, but that almost seemed inappropriate because it was such a huge moment to Y/N.

But Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about the way Harry had opened his arms for her just now. Couldn’t stop thinking about how he wanted her close like that to congratulate her on what she’d just done. And, the part of her that hadn’t really experienced someone’s noticeable pride in her like this before, wouldn’t mind at all. That’s why she ran towards him, and the two seconds Harry had to prepare, Y/N both saw the visible shock at her sprinting for him, but also a sort of jubilation like it was an honour. Y/N threw her arms around him and Harry quickly wrapped her in his, a breath of relief skimming her neck and making goosebumps run through her entire body. She laughed as Harry picked her off the ground, groaning in triumph at the news of her finally having signed up for the UCAT.

She leaned her head against his, smelling that same perfume on him that she remembered smelling when she wore his knitted jumper a few weeks ago. Her theory had also been right: Harry was an amazing hugger. His grip was tight and she was sure he closed his eyes, really immersing himself completely in the person he was embracing. Fingers spread out across her back, the tips of one just touching her shoulder blade and the other on her waist, squeezing her slightly for a few seconds before letting her down again.

“That’s amazing, Y/N,” Harry said, and Y/N tightened her grip.

When they finally let go of one another, Harry ran inside and came back some seconds later holding his camera, said he needed to document this. Y/N did a few poses that made Harry laugh, then proceeding to run out into the field beyond the lighthouse. She felt absolutely ecstatic as she ran around, grinning and jumping, her arms held up high and her heart soaring. After all this time, she was finally pursuing this. If she was able to do something that terrified and excited her like this, then what else could she do? Part of her felt like she could do anything now.

Porthgwidden Beach was like Harry described it: small. Once Harry and Y/N arrived at the tiny car park above the beach, Y/N stopped for a moment to take in the beach that wasn’t even a fraction of what the other two major beaches of St Ives were. Some Tiësto song was playing somewhere and the beach was crowded, all guests of Dax’s birthday party. The Porthgwidden Beach Café seemed to have been booked for the occasion as well, people around their age all sitting grouped around the table with their bottles and cups. No one seemed to be going crazy on their alcohol, which reassured Y/N some because it had been a while since she had been drunk, a glass or two of anything would make her very lightheaded and giggly. She had brought with her a bottle of wine in her tote bag, Harry seemed to be relying on his mates having brought drinks. If not, Y/N wouldn’t mind sharing the rest of hers with him.

Y/N had left Harry’s place not long after she signed up for the UCAT so she could get ready for Dax’s birthday party in her own room. She wore a dark green column midi skirt along with a white tee shirt and some short heels that she regretted wearing the second her and Harry stepped out into the sand. He looked over his shoulder at her once he noticed her struggling a bit, offering his hand for her to hold so she could take her heels off. While she did that, she took the liberty to study him again. His outfit was simple, yet effortlessly hot. High waisted mid wash denim jeans, a baggy black tee shirt tucked into them, along with some white socks and black Converse. Y/N had a theory Harry would end up taking his own shoes off by the end of the night too.

The two had met on Island Street where they knew none of the other partygoers would venture. That way, people would’ve seen them walk together all the way to the party, assuming they must’ve spent time at Harry’s place before coming here. They had discussed this plan over a last cuppa tea before Y/N left earlier that day, Harry had seemed very happy with himself for coming up with that one. And as they stood there, Y/N holding his hand while taking her shoes off, they heard some loud whistles followed by a “There they are!”

Looking over, they saw the birthday boy making his way over, arms spread wide and the biggest grin on his face. “My boyo!”

“Dax, not now-“

But the man didn’t listen. He hugged Harry to him, causing Harry to take a few steps, resulting in Y/N losing her balance. With a squeal, Y/N almost fell face first into the sand again, but Harry was fast to bring one hand under her armpit and the other to her hip. He dragged her toward him, her torso flat against his. She saw Harry’s eyes on her face in her peripheral vision, felt his breath on her cheek.

“Oi!” Dax laughed. “Sorry ‘bout that, Y/N. Got a bit carried away seeing this hunk.” Dax put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, causing Harry to jump right out of his trance and let go of Y/N, as if couples didn’t normally embrace each other like this without hesitation.

“Happy birthday, Dax,” Y/N smiled before picking up her shoe, shoving the pair into her tote bag along with her cardigan and Harry’s red knitted jumper.

“Happy birthday, mate,” Harry said.

“You know, I expected you to be the first one here.” Dax crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at Harry.

Harry furrowed his brows at Dax. “What do you mean?”

“Well, isn’t your best friend’s birthday important to you?”

Harry was quiet for a second. “Oh, my word, Dax.”

“I’m just a joke to you.”

“You sure are.”

“Look who it is!” Ellie called, grinning as her and the rest of Harry’s little gang made their way over. “You made it!”

“We were starting to think you two wouldn’t come,” Amir said, his hair in the most effortlessly pretty bun at the top of his head. “Too busy?” Amir wiggled his eyebrows.

“You’re too caught up in people’s sex lives for it to be normal, mate,” Harry said, taking the cup Fatima offered him. “Cheers.”

Something about Harry referring to him and Y/N’s sex life made Y/N’s cheeks feel awfully hot. Even though their joined sex life was non-existent, it still got to her. Maybe it was the way Harry always dodged those questions so the two wouldn’t have to answer any awkward queries they had absolutely no idea about. She didn’t know, but she rummaged through her bag so people wouldn’t see how flustered she suddenly got.

“Just trying to make conversation,” Amir said.

“Well, don’t,” Jo chimed in, their smile mocking and Amir only huffed in response.

“By the way!” Dax exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re going Terraland next week, you coming this year, Y/N?”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in question. “What’s Terraland?”

“Theme park in Helston, we go every year towards the end of the summer vacation,” Jo explained. “Harry here-“ They gestured at the man standing beside Y/N. “-Doesn’t like Terraland.”

“I do,” Harry protested. “I like laying by the pool and not doing shit. I don’t particularly like it when you force me on rollercoasters.”

Y/N smiled. “I’ll come if Harry decides to.”

“Brill! All of us are coming, maybe a few others,” Amir said.

“So, it’s like an adventure park with rollercoasters and such?” Y/N asked

“That and pools, very much the kind of thing you visit when you’re on vacation in, like, Spain,” Harry explained. “But it’s in Cornwall.”

“Good for a group of grown up kids, ey?” Dax grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Come, Y/N, babe.” Ellie linked her arm with Y/N’s, taking Y/N off guard, but she didn’t stop Ellie. She looked at their arms and smiled a little. “Let’s get you a cup so we can get this party started.”

“Love your skirt, by the way,” Fatima smiled as they reached a table with tons of cups and napkins.

“Ahh, thank you. Haven’t worn it in a while, so I felt it was fitting to do so today.” Y/N glanced down at her skirt, running her hand over it before reaching for a cup.

“Ellie and I were saying the other day that you’ve got such a sophisticated sense of style, you need to take us shopping.”

“Could use a few pointers,” Ellie agreed, watching Y/N as she poured herself a glass of wine.

“Really?” Y/N screwed the cork shut before putting the bottle away, smiling at the two girls. “I mean, it’s not that good-“

“-Out of respect for what Harry said, I will stop you before you discredit yourself,” Ellie smiled back.

Y/N laughed. “What about respect for me? Respect me wanting to discredit myself for having a mediocre clothing style.”

Both Fatima and Ellie joined in on the laughing and the three girls walked away from the table so they could hang out by themselves. Though St Ives had around 11,000 inhabitants, Y/N was sure a lot of the guests weren’t locals. Maybe friends from University or friends-of-friends, everything to get a good party going. Judging by what Fatima and Ellie told Y/N, this was an annual thing. Dax Rose held a massive birthday party and absolutely everyone was invited. Bring your own alcohol, bring a friend, and bring a smile, and you were welcomed with open arms. People were sitting in the sand or by the café, others were just standing around, some were dancing, and a group was also taking a swim and joking around in the water. Y/N genuinely liked the atmosphere; it was just really freeing and nice. People wore whatever they wanted, laughter could be heard everywhere, and it just seemed like everyone wanted to have a good time.

Though anyone could come join the party – something that made her look around her a few too many times -, there were still enough people there to notice something suspicious going on.

Fatima, Ellie, and Y/N stood just talking for a while. It was really nice to talk to some girls her own age again, she couldn’t remember the last time she had done that. She had some good friends at school but once they had gone off to University or moved away from Winchester, she fell out of touch with most of them. Y/N knew it wasn��t personal, she quite liked the fact her friends had acquired new lives for themselves, being happier and more fulfilled. But she had missed just standing around chatting nonsense. The conversation didn’t hold much significance, there wasn’t much crucial information going around, or any sort of seriousness attached to it, just some mates having a chat. Y/N found herself wondering if Fatima and Ellie would come if she asked them out for lunch one day.

“I saw this documentary the other day, it’s on iPlayer,” Ellie said. “It was super interesting and disturbing.”

“Oh?” Y/N said, tipsy at this point and just holding the cup of wine in her hand, not wanting to drink more in case it would make her dizzy and very giggly.

“Yeah, it was basically about all these people who committed gruesome murders in the UK, and who go free now.”

Y/N looked up from her cup with wide eyes and at Ellie as Fatima gasped.

“Yeah, I can’t remember what it was called…” As Ellie started thinking, a shadow appeared beside Y/N and she jumped. The tall red-haired man standing beside Y/N only smiled at her, holding a hands up to indicate he was friendly.

Fatima clicked her tongue. “Are you trying to give her a heart attack, Cam?”

“No, I’m sorry, darl,” the man said, looking at Y/N as he held a hand out for her to shake. “Just saw an unfamiliar face and thought I’d introduce myself, is all. I’m Cameron.”

Y/N took a huge breath, meeting Ellie’s eyes before looking at Cameron and shaking his hand. “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he mused under his breath, nodding his head as his hand fell to his side again. “Haven’t seen you around here before, Y/N.”

“I’ve only been here a month now.”

“Too bad we didn’t meet earlier, then.”

Y/N’s eyes widened a bit, the compliment taking her off guard. She only chuckled some, wrapping both her hands around her cup as she looked down at the liquid in it.

“When did you come back, Cam?” Ellie asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Two weeks ago. Are you on vacation here then, Y/N?” Cameron didn’t even spare Ellie a look, his undivided attention on Y/N as she continued to stare at her drink.

But suddenly a pair of black Converse appeared beside her bare feet. She felt a hand on her lower back, a warm and comforting pressure that slowly trailed its way to her waist, wrapping his fingers around her curves and bringing her toward him. Her figure fell against his, fitting against his side as if they’d done this before.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re trying to pull, Cam,” Harry said, his voice steady and a little darker than normal. Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol he had drunk this far or it being late, Y/N didn’t know, but she knew she liked it.

Cameron was quiet for a second. “Your girlfriend? Mate, you got a girlfriend?”

“This is her,” Harry continued.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Haz.”

“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to my girlfriend.”

Cameron smiled, as if he couldn’t believe Harry, but he met Y/N’s eyes. “I apologise, I didn’t know.”

Y/N nodded, not really knowing what else to say or do. Cameron looked at the other three, saying a quick goodbye before buggering off. As he disappeared, Harry’s hand slid back around her waist as he came to stand in front of Y/N. She felt his touch along her forearm, rough fingers caressing her with such sensitivity as if he was afraid of crossing a line. Whenever he touched her like this, she could tell by the rough skin of his hands that he wasn’t used to being gentle like this; wasn’t used to being careful when touching someone else. His work made him have rough skin and maybe even a rough touch, but he was always so incredibly cautious when he reached for Y/N.

He slid his hand into hers, squeezing her fingers as she wrapped them around him. Their eyes met and upon seeing him in front of her, seeing him this close, she felt her eyes widen a bit. Though the entire reason why he was doing this was because there were people around watching them, it still felt like everyone was intruding on a special moment between the two of them.

“You okay? Saw he made you jump a bit,” Harry said, hooded and glassy eyes searching her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just came up out of nowhere,” Y/N answered, offering a smile because she knew Harry’s concern was genuine.

Y/N wasn’t sure if Ellie or Fatima noticed Harry’s slight hesitance because by the sound of it, they were chatting amongst themselves, but Y/N did. Harry leaned in, eyes on hers till he closed them. Every single hair on Y/N’s body shot up as Harry pressed his lips gently against her cheek. He was covering her view of Ellie and Fatima, so the two couldn’t see the immediate shock on Y/N’s face. Their conversation halted, she was aware of that, but all her attention was focused on Harry’s lips and how hot her entire body got in the matter of a second. She closed her eyes, eyelashes brushing his skin. Harry pulled away, resting the right side of his forehead against her left for a few seconds. She wondered if he could feel how hard her heart was beating, how clammy her hands were. Could he tell she wanted to reach for his neck and hold him there, but she was carrying her cup and her other hand was already holding his? Could he feel her breaths on his neck like she could feel his? Did he want to stay like that, safe in each other’s company and unbothered by everyone else, for the rest of the night?

“I’m sure there are taxis driving about town if you two wanna go home,” Ellie said, and Fatima cursed her right away.

Harry took a step away from Y/N, clearing his throat as a familiar redness came to his cheeks. His hand was about to fall away from hers, but she gripped his harder, not ready to let go yet. He gave Fatima and Ellie a tight-lipped smile before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, the muscles in his face relaxing.

“El, I need a refill,” Fatima said, and though Y/N couldn’t read their faces yet, she could kind of tell what that meant.

“Let’s go get you a drink then. See you two in a bit.” Ellie and Fatima walked off, falling into conversation right away.

Harry made sure they were completely alone, that no one was eavesdropping before he said lowly, “Sorry if that was too much, I just… I just thought it’d look good, you know? To kiss my girlfriend- my pretend girlfriend around other people just to underline that we are… you know…”

Y/N nodded, biting her lips together as she watched Harry continue to try and find his words.

“Also, sorry if you wanted to chat to Cameron, I’m… I don’t want this to get in the way-“

“-I didn’t. I don’t.”

Silence stretched on, eyes on one another as the party continued around them. They didn’t have any regard for it as they kept their attention on one another. Y/N had answered so quickly and so honestly that it made her nervous when Harry didn’t say anything. Because it was true that she didn’t want to talk to Cameron, she didn’t know who he was and would probably never see him again. But she knew who Harry was, and she wanted to see him all the time. There was a comfort in his presence that settled over her like a warm, safe blanket. She liked being around him. She didn’t want to be near Cameron or anyone else.

“Do you think people think we’re a couple right now? Are we believable? Is this believable?” Harry mumbled.

Y/N giggled. “Well, you just kissed my cheek out of nowhere, I’d hope it’s somewhat believable and that they think we’re a couple.”

Harry laughed, looking down at their hands. “Yeah, it’s kind of… it’s kind of easy, isn’t it?”

Y/N frowned. “What is?”

“Being like this with you. I might feel like a right idiot when I take your hand or kiss your cheek, but you don’t make me feel like one.”

She smiled.

“It’s natural. Not that… that being in a relationship with you and acting like this is natural, I didn’t mean it like that, but it’s-“ He stopped himself looking up at her again as he bit his bottom lip, shrugging slightly. “-It’s like joking about with a friend and just having fun, feeling comfortable.”

“Yeah?”

“You know… I hope I don’t sound like a melt and I’m probably only able to say this ‘cause I’m a tad tipsy,” Harry said, and Y/N giggled. “But you’ve become one of my best friends. If not best friend, a very good one. Like… dunno, I can talk to you about anything, I don’t feel weird being silent around you, or saying or doing stuff that is weird, and I-I feel like you might feel the same way about me. At least I hope so.”

Her smile widened. “I do.”

He let out a small breath and Y/N chuckled.

“It’s sad that when this ends it’ll look weird if we remain friends, won’t it?” Y/N hated that she was thinking and talking about a time in the future they both knew was coming, but avoided talking about at all costs.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, do exes stay friends without it being weird to a degree? If you start dating someone for example, will our friends expect us to act a certain way, and if they do and we contradict their theory, will that make them suspicious of us?”

Harry furrowed his brows a little.

“I want to hang out with you and it’s sad to think that in August, we might have to part ways and never talk again ‘cause it’ll look… weird. Dunno, I haven’t really gone through this before.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Neither have I.”

Y/N laughed.

“I mean, I’ve gone through a break-up, but not like this.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t talked to my ex since it happened.”

They were quiet for a moment as Harry digested Y/N’s choice of words. “You haven’t talked to your ex since you broke up either? Like, at all?”

“He, uhm, he’s sent me texts, but I don’t want to talk to him.”

Harry must have noticed how little Y/N wanted to talk about her ex, because he looked down at their hands again and let their conversation end there. Y/N held her cup out for him and Harry took it, looking at it. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking if she wanted any more of it, but she shook her head. He poured it out in the sand.

“You’re enjoying yourself?” Harry asked after a little while, wiping something off the corners of his mouth with his free index and thumb.

“The party?” Y/N met Harry’s eyes and then searched for Ellie and Fatima, she’d have to find them later. “Yeah, it’s nice. I like your friends.”

“There are a couple more who want me to introduce you, so we’ll have to do that later if it’s okay.”

“Of course.”

Harry’s eyes fell to the now empty cup. “And are you enjoying yourself in St Ives?”

Y/N smiled. “I am, it’s fun.” As she laid extra pressure on the last word, Harry looked up and as she raised her eyebrows, he knew she was referring to them and their fake relationship. He chuckled and Y/N watched him.

“Is it everything you hoped it’d be?”

She was unsure what he was referring to, but she said, “More.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she answered, folding her hands.

“So, you’re… you’re staying?” Pause. “Right?”

Confused, Y/N furrowed her brows at Harry, studying his face to try and find some sort of explanation to that utterance. She slowly opened her mouth, and said, “Staying?”

“Here.”

“On the beach?”

“No.”

“In St Ives?”

Something that could be interpreted as a nod happened, but no words left Harry’s lips. Instead, he continued to look at her, eyes searching her face as if he could find her answer somewhere there. A slight breeze blew past them, making a curl come loose and hang in front of Harry’s eye. He quickly pushed it away, not letting anything prevent him from seeing Y/N fully as she realised what Harry meant. Y/N felt his fingers brush her arm on their way down.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Harry didn’t say anything or nod this time around. Their eyes didn’t waver, looking at each other and not daring to look away. Y/N didn’t register till then how close they were standing. When the wind blew from behind Harry, she smelled his familiar scent and it made something inside her flutter. It was instinctive to look down at his lips, just as instinctive to look up and feel her breath hitch somewhere in her throat as she saw his lips part. Unapologetically, Harry’s eyes did the same that Y/N’s had done just a few seconds prior. A fire-hot shiver ran up her spine as he glanced at her lips, taking a step forward so that their hands rested against one another. Y/N wanted to look at his lips again, but she simply could not look away from his eyes. He was so close and she didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to look away.

“Do you think we’re believable now?” Harry whispered, his voice hoarse.

Y/N couldn’t bring herself to answer, she was waiting for something unspeakable; something that couldn’t be put into word for fear of the reality of those words being too raw, too true. She felt his curl against her forehead. His breath on her nose. Her body prickling with anticipation and confusion, unable to properly decipher if what was going on was all part of the show or if this was genuine. Harry was too respectable to make a move, and Y/N was too perplexed to do anything. If she kissed him, how would he feel? Would he take it as her being genuinely interested in him, or that they were just doing it to seem like a genuine couple? And if she kissed him, would she interpret it as her genuinely fancying him, or would she do it just to feed into their façade?

Before she could think about anything else, someone shouted something above the music and everyone else talking. It seemed to have caught quite a few people’s attention, because the volume on the beach lowered considerably. Harry tore his eyes away from Y/N and looked in the direction of the commotion. Y/N did as well, craning her neck to see beyond the group of people that were hugging and crowding what looked to be a new guest. Harry froze in front of Y/N and she looked at him, then back at the group.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“My…” Harry mumbled, pausing for some seconds. “Emilia.”

Y/N looked back at Harry. “Emilia?”

Harry nodded.

“Your ex?”

“The one who lived in Munich for two years, yeah.” Harry ran a hand through his hair before he met Y/N’s eyes. “I haven’t seen her since she came back, think she came back sometime last week.”

“Do you want to go say hi?”

“I…” Harry glanced in Emilia’s direction again, clearly thinking it over thoroughly. “I mean… yes, but… she’d meet you as well. She’d have to.”

“Why?”

“’Cause Dax won’t be able to keep himself from bringing up the fact that I have a new girlfriend. Pretend girlfriend, but… you know…”

Y/N nodded.

“If she knows I’m here and I’m with my new girlfriend, she’s gonna wanna meet you.”

She inhaled sharply. “Why would she want to meet the person you’re supposedly being intimate with now?”

Harry’s eyes grew wide for a single second before he composed himself, blinking himself back to reason. “Dunno. Emilia is very sociable. Just like you.”

“But she’d meet the person you’re with now, I don’t see why she’d want to meet them.”

“Maybe she’s happy for me, maybe she wants to meet someone who supposedly makes me happy,” Harry offered, shrugging his shoulders.

Y/N stared at him for a few seconds. “I know you said she didn’t want to be with you ‘cause it affected her mental health, and I get that, but leaving you when you were at your lowest is still an awful thing to do.”

Harry glanced at Y/N.

“And then not talking to you for two years after just sodding off to Munich. She doesn’t know what you’ve been through since then, do you think she’s gonna care now?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “Y/N, I loved Emilia.”

“I’m aware, but the people we love don’t have to love us back the same way we love them. One part always ends up loving more, feeling more, doing more. We can’t choose how much we love someone, and we don’t have a say in how they love us, but the fact of the matter is that if you love someone, you act like it. You let them know.”

Harry didn’t say anything, he just bit the inside of his cheek and continued to look at Y/N.

“I’m fully aware you loved Emilia, probably still do, but it doesn’t sit right with me that she just removed herself like that completely. You’re not a toxic person, you were just going through a rough time.”

“Harry!” Amir shouted, waving Harry and Y/N over. “Harry, mate!”

Harry watched Y/N for a few more seconds, probably either debating what she’d just said or losing every shred of respect he had for her, Y/N didn’t know. He nodded in the direction of everyone and the two started walking there, strolling the distance in silence. She didn’t know how she was supposed to interpret said silence, if it was a good kind or if he just didn’t want to talk to her for the rest of the night because he had taken offense to what she’d said.

When they reached the group, they made space for Harry and Y/N, and the first thing Y/N noticed was the brunette standing on the opposite side to the circle from them. Her blue eyes lit up when she saw Harry and she smiled at him instantly, clearly happy to see him after two years of no contact.

“Hi,” she exclaimed, crossing the circle, and giving Harry a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Harry said. “How was Munich?”

“Amazing, I’m moving there permanently after University, I’m sure.” Emilia stepped away from Harry and immediately, her eyes fell on Y/N. “And this must be the girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N’s eyes met, Harry raising his eyebrows in a quick “told you so”, which made Y/N smile some before turning back to Emilia.

“Yes, I guess I am. And you’re the ex.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he looked from Y/N to Emilia and back again. It was evident that the rest of the group, and quite a few others as well, were watching this interaction with keen interest. They were probably waiting for one of them to start a fight and the other one to feed into it, something Harry would step in to stop and take sides, which would ultimately just end badly. It was clearly something a lot of people thought would be great entertainment. But Y/N kept her cool, not wanting to sound passive aggressive or make Harry uncomfortable. Though she was not impressed with Emilia’s past actions, she wasn’t about to judge her solely on them. Y/N hoped she was right not to.

“I am, it’s been so long since I’ve seen Harry.” Emilia looked back at Harry, considerably smaller than him, looking up at him through her lashes. “That rain check you were talking about, you could make up for it by walking me over to get a cup?”

Y/N looked at Harry, about to open her mouth and ask what rain check Emilia was talking about, but she realised it was none of her business. And questioning Harry like this in front of everyone would just feed into everything everyone wanted. So, Y/N just crossed her arms over her chest.

“Actually, we’re about to leave,” Harry said, giving Emilia a small smile.

Emilia pouted. “Really? It’ll only take you a minute.”

Harry opened his mouth to inhale hugely, looking over at Y/N who hoped he could tell she didn’t like this. But Harry met Emilia’s eyes again, taking a step back and Emilia grinned as the two started walking towards the table in the middle of the beach with all the cups. Y/N watched them, how easily they fell into conversation and how eager Emilia was to talk to Harry again. While witnessing this, Y/N kept reminding herself of what Harry had said earlier, about her becoming one of his closest friends. She hoped repeating that moment to herself would prevent her from getting hurt and sad and angry, but it didn’t. When turning back toward the gang, she realised both Ellie and Dax were watching Harry and Emilia as well. And upon taking a look around, she realised Jo, Amir, and Fatima were as well. Y/N didn’t know for what purpose, but if Dax’s tense jaw was any indicator, it couldn’t have been for a particularly good reason.

Why would Harry do that? Though Y/N wasn’t in a relationship with him, it was still embarrassing for her to have to stand there and wait for him. She felt ridiculous when Fatima met her eyes again, giving her an apologetic smile, one Y/N – Harry’s fake girlfriend – didn’t deserve, but she appreciated it nevertheless. Because despite everything, this hurt. She dug her nails into her upper arms as she stood there, mad at Harry for the first time ever. Though it had been gormless of Emilia to ask in the first place, Harry hadn’t really needed much persuasion.

As Emilia and Harry’s voices got louder, the gang started up a light conversation that Y/N pretended to be part of. She only gave Harry a slight glance before looking back at Dax who was talking, the guy not giving the returning two any of his attention either. Y/N wondered if Dax thought the same way about Emilia’s behaviour as she did, but then again, it wasn’t like Y/N could take Dax aside and ask him that. If Y/N sought Dax out to talk about Harry’s ex, it wouldn’t look good.

“Ready to leave?” Y/N asked, reaching into her tote bag for her cardigan. Some of her passive aggressiveness was detectable in her voice, she hoped no other than Harry picked up on it. She was still tipsy so she blamed her incapability to hold back on that.

“Yeah,” Harry said, standing very still as he watched Y/N put her cardigan on. Once it was on, she smiled at everyone, and then looked at Harry as he directed a “See ya, yeah?” at everyone. Though Dax was visibly sad the two were leaving, he seemed to know why they were bailing because he didn’t ask them why or stop them. Y/N put her shoes back on and the two started on their way back up the hill that led to the car park.

It was unexpected when Harry reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers so slowly and so deliberately that she felt it in every single one of her cells. Though it was nice to feel him there, she had to bite her lip from saying anything as they walked up Burrow Road. The second they were out of sight and alone, Y/N let go of his hand. This wasn’t something Harry would’ve usually paid much attention had he not heard her passive aggression just a few moments earlier.

“Is it Emilia?” Harry asked.

It was stupid how the only time Harry managed to be blunt and upfront was when he knew he was in trouble or if someone was annoyed with him. At least Y/N thought so.

She straightened her back, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself. “What about Emilia?”

“Is that why you’re all… mad? Dunno if mad is the best word.”

“Think it describes how I’m feeling perfectly,” Y/N said. “’Cause I’d say I’m mad with a dash of disappointed.”

Harry looked over at her, frowning again. “Why?”

“Why am I mad you walked over there with Emilia?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders exaggeratingly. “Call it intuition, call it paranoia, call it whatever you bloody want, but I think she wants you back now that you’re not broken up about your Dad anymore.”

Harry took a few seconds to say, “I’ll call that stupidity.”

The laugh that left Y/N was anything but friendly and warm. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

“Why are you so mad about this anyway? It’s not like we’re…” Harry stopped himself, looking over at Y/N who refused to look at him. “It’s not like we’re a couple.”

“It’s still embarrassing. I was left standing there while my boyfriend walked off with his ex. You don’t even want to admit that what you did was stupid.”

“’Cause it’s not, we just walked down to that table so she could get herself a cup.”

Y/N sighed, running her hands over her face. “Yes, it’s an innocent act and I probably have no right to act like this, but I’m being a friend. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Being a friend, looking out for me?”

Y/N looked at him, seeing his set jaw and piercing eyes. “Why wouldn’t I look out for you?”

“Right now you just seem mad I hung out with my ex.”

She glanced away again, so frustrated with him that she felt like screaming. They reached Back Road, Y/N walking straight ahead to take the quickest way back to the Inn, Harry was turning right to Clodgy. “Interpret it any way you want, Harry. I’m being truthful when I tell you I just want what’s best for you.”

There was a pause as Harry watched Y/N cross the road. “You’re just gonna leave like that? You don’t wanna talk it out?”

“You don’t understand where I’m coming from, Harry!” Y/N exclaimed as she faced him, turning her back on the dark alleyway behind her. “What’s the point?!”

“Y/N, it’s not like I’m making out with Emilia in front of everyone!”

“I know, but that small act of just walking down there has a lot of meaning! She wants to make up for lost time!”

“You’re just reading too much into this!”

“And you think the best of people who hurt you!”

“She left for her own good, don’t blame her for that!”

“I’m not! I just think it’s odd to not check up on you in those two years following your breakup when you were clearly having a tough time when she left!”

“Oh, my days, Y/N.” Harry ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

“I know you want to see the best in everyone, but I’ve experienced people fucking me over ‘cause I gave them the benefit of the doubt. Multiple times. I’m not doing that again, I’m-I’m just not. And I don’t want to watch that same thing happen to you.”

Harry blinked when Y/N cursed, but quickly regained himself. “I can take care of myself!”

“I’m just being a friend and looking out for you, I’m sorry if-“

“-And what if I don’t want you to look out for me as a friend?!”

Y/N was about to answer, but she felt something brush against her back and then a figure moving out of the dark alleyway behind her. Her heart skipped a beat and the next thing she knew, she felt it in her throat. She jumped out of the way, stepping just in the crack between two cobblestones and stumbling away from the stranger. The man looked at Y/N as she regained her balance, about to reach his hand out to help her when Harry rushed across the road. Y/N managed herself, but she took another step away from the stranger who genuinely looked baffled as to what had just happened. Y/N put a hand over her heart, feeling it beating furiously. Calm down, calm down, calm down, she told herself, feeling safer the second Harry put a hand to her upper arm.

“You alright, miss?” the man asked, looking at Harry who was standing beside Y/N, making sure she was okay.

“Sorry,” Y/N said, doing her best to give him a smile. “I’m just a bit jumpy. And a tad drunk.”

He laughed joyously before continuing on his way, and the second he turned away, Y/N’s face fell. Harry noticed and turned her to face him, squeezing her shoulders so she’d look at him. She balled her hands into fists as she felt her heart beating hard, calming down from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

“You’re okay,” he said, recognising her reaction from that first time she read to him in the grass beside the lighthouse.

Y/N nodded, meeting Harry’s eyes and telling herself it was all fine. She would be fine. Harry was here and nothing would happen to her while he was here. She continued to look at him till she was calmer, but the thought of walking down that dark alleyway now made her want to hurl. However, she didn’t have any other place to walk and she had to get back somehow. Maybe she could call Bessie and talk to her, or maybe she could find another and maybe longer route back. But then she’d be out in the open longer than she initially wanted to.

“Have you always been like that?” Harry asked, the question curious and without any hint of judgement.

“Like what?”

“Paranoid.”

Y/N smiled a little as if that would brighten the mood that had fallen considerably. Slowly, she nodded, averting her eyes from Harry’s. “I like being prepared for anything, for any possible outcome.”

Harry didn’t remove his hands from where they rested on her shoulders.

“So, I either make them up, or if something happens unexpectedly, my brain does this thing where it tells me that the worst possible thing is happening, and I need to escape.”

“What’s the worst possible thing that can happen?”

“In any scenario?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N watched as someone turned every light in their flat off, wishing she was in her bed right now. “That my Dad finds me.”

Harry stayed quiet.

“He terrifies me. Always has. I know he won’t hurt me, but… he’s a bad man, Harry. A very bad man.”

“He won’t come here, Y/N. You’re safe in St Ives.”

Some part of her laughed at that, but when she met his eyes, she knew he genuinely meant it. If Harry was there, he would not let anything happen to her. No matter what. Even if they had a disagreement the second before her Dad showed up. But her father knew where she was and if he wanted her back, he would do what he could to get her back. A lighthouse keeper wouldn’t stand in his way.

Y/N felt her bottom lip starting to wobble at the thought of it, and she put a hand in front of her mouth when the back of her eyes started to sting.

“Hey,” Harry said, squeezing her shoulders. “Let’s go back to mine, yeah? You won’t have to be alone.”

She met his eyes, blinking a few times as she processed his offer. “Yours?”

“Yeah, if you’re a bit shaken up, I thought you might… might not want to be alone.”

Without really registering what she was doing, Y/N was nodding her head to answer his question. “If you’re sure I won’t be a burden in any way-“

“-Flower, you’re never.”

She almost thought she heard him incorrectly. Flower. She had never gotten a nickname before. Her friends back home used to call her ‘babe’ and her mother would sometimes call her ‘sweetheart’ and Bessie referred to her as ‘dear’, but never this one. She suddenly felt a little lightheaded.

Harry wrapped an arm around her and held her to him as they walked through the city. He hummed to The Power of Love as they strolled, keeping the empty and quiet streets of St Ives alive as long as they were walking through them. Y/N looked about them, staring down alleyways and streets, sometimes being too afraid to even to study the shadows or look to make out silhouettes in the darkness. Harry’s humming kept her grounded and reminded her that she wasn’t alone. Once they were walking along the road up to Clodgy Point, Harry let go of her, letting her walk by herself. It was starting to get a bit chilly when the winds of the moors started up around them, so Y/N reached for Harry’s knitted jumper in her tote bag and gave it to him. He was a bit taken aback by that, seemingly having forgotten it was there, but he thanked her, the only two words being uttered at all on their 30-minute walk up to the lighthouse.

Harry unlocked the door and walked in first, turning the light on the coffee table on as Y/N locked the front door. He opened a window to let some air in, then took his jumper and shoes off. Y/N did the same, wrapping her arms around herself. She was aware it had been Harry’s idea for her to stay here, but she suddenly felt like she was intruding. This was his space and his bedtime routine. They had walked off most of their drunkenness, so when Y/N tripped over her own feet a bit, it was purely from exhaustion. Harry was almost about to reach out and catch her even though he was across the room, but his dedication to help her made her chuckle a little. Harry smiled at the sound of it.

Y/N put her tote bag on one of the chairs, putting her cardigan over the back of it as well.

“I…” Harry started, making Y/N look over at where he stood by his dresser. “I have a few shirts and stuff if you wanna freshen up some.”

Y/N chuckled. “What do you mean?”

Realising he probably didn’t make sense, Harry let a breath escape his lips as well. “I meant, if you wanna have a shower, I’ll lend you a tee shirt.”

The thought of showering in Harry’s space seemed almost a bit surreal, but for some reason, also completely normal. She spent so much time here and with him that in a way, it was weird that she hadn’t showered here before. She slowly nodded her head, and Harry opened a drawer, pulling out an old tee white shirt with a small Elton John logo on the chest.

“Towels,” Harry said, walking over to his tiny bathroom and turning the lights on for her. “They’re here, and I got everything you might need in the shower. There’s an unused toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink.”

“Thank you.”

Harry gave her a smile before closing the door. Taking a breather first, the next thing Y/N did was get undressed and take that shower. She washed away the argument with Harry and the reason why it was cut off so abruptly; tried to soak herself in everything else that happened tonight that made her entire body warm. When Harry kissed her cheek; the way his hot lips felt against her skin, how the thought of that moment alone made her feel some type of way. She knew Harry only did it so everyone would think they were a couple, but her cheek was tingling.

She got out of the shower, drying herself off, and putting Harry’s tee shirt on, her skirt under it. Yes, the two were starting to get comfortable around one another, but she wasn’t sure if they were just there yet. Last thing she wanted to do was walk out there in her knickers and one of his tee shirts, then make him uncomfortable in any way. Though she felt like a raisin since she was not doing her usual post-shower skin routine, nor any hair products for her hair, she told herself she’d do it tomorrow when she was back to the Inn.

She walked outside to see Harry laying in his bed, his small telly that was stood by his couch, turned around so he could watch a rerun of an old Would I Lie To You episode. When the bathroom door opened, he instantly looked in her direction, placing his hands on either side of his form as if he got ready to get up. Their eyes met and his eyes fell to her tee shirt, where the material hugged her waist firmly. He met her eyes again, swallowing thickly before he gestured beside him at two glasses of water.

“One by the window is yours.”

“I’m literally so thirsty, thank you.”

Harry smiled, walking past Y/N and into the bathroom, going to take his own shower. Y/N sat down in Harry’s bed, nuzzling under the covers and taking a hold of her glass. She brought it to her lips, sipping it till it was empty, watching the telly as she did. She got up for a refill, drank half, and then just continued to watch the telly for a bit. The light in the room was dim enough so she could easily fall asleep, and she almost did drift off against the headboard, but then Harry exited the bathroom and woke her up with a start.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

She smiled, sinking down into the pillow. “Almost went off to dreamland there.”

“Soz.”

“I’m a light sleeper, it’s not your fault.”

Harry nodded, walking over to turn the lights off, the only light in the entire little cottage now being the light from the telly. He strolled over to the fridge and took a cucumber out. Y/N watched him as he brought a knife out, cutting it up in half.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Just brushed my teeth.”

“So did I, but after I’ve been out, I usually eat half a cucumber before bed.”

Y/N stared at him.

“What?”

“Just… just a cucumber? Nothing else?”

“What else? Do you spice your cucumber? With what?” Harry looked at his little box of spices by his stove. “Onion granules?”

Y/N laughed, placing her hands on the duvet above her stomach.

“I actually had jalfrezi leftovers after we went to the pub a few weeks ago,” Harry said as he came over to the bed, giving Y/N half the cucumber. “So I dipped my cucumber in that and ate it.”

Y/N grimaced. “Were you still pissed?”

“No,” Harry chuckled. “I just like cucumber and Indian food.”

“Fair enough.”

Harry picked up one of his quilts and sat down in bed beside Y/N, draping it over himself so she could have the duvet for herself. He bit into his half of the cucumber, completely unfazed as his eyes fell on the telly. Y/N tried not to laugh, but he looked so incredibly cute, munching on his cucumber and smiling at something Rob Brydon said. He must’ve noticed her not eating, because he looked down at where she laid in bed, raising his eyebrows.

“You weren’t hungry?”

“It’s not that.”

“It’s honestly refreshing.” Harry took another bite. “I love it.”

That made her smile and she took a bite of her cucumber as well, Harry watching her as she chewed and then swallowed.

“Well…? Your verdict?”

“It’s just a cucumber.”

Harry rolled his eyes, making Y/N laugh again. “You’re humiliating.”

“Says the person who eats half a cucumber before bed!”

“I’m quirky!”

Laughing again, the two fell into comfortable silence as they watched the rest of the Would I Lie To You episode. Though the idea of eating half a cucumber hadn’t been very appealing to begin with, it did make her feel a bit better. She didn’t know she’d been hungry till now, the cucumber and the two glasses of water had done a well enough job to fill her stomach up before bed, so she didn’t bother asking Harry if she could make herself a toastie. Instead, Y/N found her eyes falling shut, her entire body relaxing completely. All the worry and the paranoia and the fight earlier all came together now, making her so tired she could barely stand to keep her eyes open. Her entire body ached with the effort it took to stay awake. She stayed as close to the wall as possible, where she could look out across the dimly lit lightkeeper house.

Y/N felt the move as Harry reached out to the windowsill. He sat back, screwing the lid open, revealing a balm of some sort. He rubbed his middle finger in it, slowly sliding it along the thick balm till his finger was wet with it. Y/N bit her bottom lip. For some reason, she thought he was going to smear it across his own lips, some sort of cream to help keep his lips moisturised. No, instead Harry dragged his finger under his eyes. Not directly under his eyes, but along his cheekbones, slowly and gently.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked through a yawn.

Harry looked away from the telly and at her. “Face cream.”

“You put it on before bed?”

“It helps me sleep, it’s made of lavender and apricot. Both are supposed to help you fall into a deep sleep.”

“Can I try?”

“Yeah.” Harry handed it over, leaning his head back against the headboard, watching Y/N as she smelled it.

“Lush.”

“It is.”

Y/N rubbed her finger in it, putting it along under her eye. She was aware Harry was keeping an eye on her, but she pretended to find the programme incredibly interesting right then. She heard a slight chuckle.

“Not directly under your eyes,” Harry said. “Not there.” He leaned over, taking a delicate grip of her wrist and moving her hand down. “Here.” His hand moved upward to cup hers, his little finger, ring finger, and middle finger hooking themselves tenderly between her thumb and index. His index rested on top of hers as he guided her hand slowly and gently, tipping his head to the side to rest against the headboard while he concentrated. She didn’t dare look away from the telly, too overwhelmed to do anything but let him help her.

“Then the other eye,” he mumbled, telling her what was going to happen next. Because without warning, he dipped his finger in the balm Y/N was holding, swirling his finger slowly around till it was moist. When he did that, she simply could not help herself, and her eyes fell to look at his hand, taken aback by what was happening. However, she didn’t move or tell him to stop when Harry brought his hand up, sliding it over her cheekbone. Soft, slow, graceful. A prickling hot sensation followed where he touched, slowly spreading through her entire body. She looked away from the balm and at Harry, the second she did, he glanced back at her. A slight breath left her lips, Harry’s eyes falling to them. She sat up, finding the lid and placing it back on the balm. She handed it back to Harry.

Harry took it, placing it back in the windowsill before he got up from bed. Y/N lay back down, quickly checking the pulse on her neck because she knew her heart was beating hard. If it beat hard enough, would it somehow make the bed creak? Was it possible her heartbeat made her entire body shake like that? Just in case, Y/N switched so she was laying on her side. She watched as Harry turned the telly off, the room falling into complete darkness. Y/N closed her eyes, realising for the first time in a minute or two how sleepy she actually was.

It took a second or two before she felt the bed move and creak as he sat down. He shuffled till he was comfortable laying on his side facing her. Only reason she knew that was because she heard his content sigh and felt his breath on her face. It had been quiet for a minute or so before Harry whispered her name.

“Hm?” she asked, opening her eyes slightly. She could not make out much, but she thought she might’ve seen him looking at her. That might also just be her imagination playing tricks on her.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said, his voice a whisper.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“I know you’re just looking out for me and I’m sorry if it was embarrassing for you when I did that.”

“I’m sorry I criticised her for leaving you when it was bad for her mental health, I just know that it can’t have been easy to have been in your shoes just then, so that break up can’t have been easy to deal with on top of everything else.”

Silence stretched on for a few seconds. “It wasn’t. But I don’t blame her for leaving if that was what was best for her.”

Y/N closed her eyes again. “Okay.”

She felt the bed move again as Harry found a new position that was more comfortable. The pillow she rested her head on moved a bit, she reckoned he slung his arm over the top of her head.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry said, voice slurring now as well.

“Night.”

“My alarm will go off at 3am, by the way.”

She smiled. “I know.”

She heard him let out a slight breath, sounding like a small chuckle, and the next thing she knew, she was having the slumber of her life.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 27 September, 9PM GMT!

Vote for ST here ✨

A HUGE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic 🌊 @bopbopstyles 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @summerfeelng 🌊 @watermelonsuger 🌊 @withallthelove-a 🌊

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #1dff #:DDDDDD PLS CO COME CHAT :DDDDD

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ad1thi · 4 years ago

Text

2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]

part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust

***

July

this is the start: @capnwinghead

Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.

great minds (love alike): @starklysteve

Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.

“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.

---

Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.

Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop.

They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.

you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake

Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.

Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.

August

Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow

Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.

Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.

Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen

A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.

“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”

The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."

Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Through The Years: @hawkbucks

Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings

A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)

September

someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve

Steve smiles.

Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”

“Da!” Peter agrees again.

One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”

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

Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler

+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult

Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

They were right.

Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes

Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.

Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.

Hanahaki AU: Established relationship

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

A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony

Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.

Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.

high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun

“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”

“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”

October

press my luck: @omg-just-peachy

But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.

Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.

see it with the lights out: @starklysteve

Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.

(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)

adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail

It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.

The Buy In: @dracusfyre

For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

November

“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling

Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake

For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.

Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.

The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.

One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust

When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.

He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.

December

Swiping Right: @s-horne

“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”

Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.

Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?

set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve

Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”

Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.

“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”

“Last night,” Tony grins.

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

Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”

“What do you like in bed?”

Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

same time next year: @omg-just-peachy

“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.

Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

#adi's rec list #superbat #superhusbands #winterironfalcon #mcdanno #buckytony #peppernat #superfamily #rhodeytony #ironfamily #and that's a wrap!!!

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purpleyoonn · 2 years ago

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You made me very curious for the next chapter that is coming soon but I'm also scared to read. Cause it kinda hit home 😅

When people suddenly act like they had been with you and supported you through every progress for you get that far and like you know. Only acted friendly so they can use you in the end (ask for money, blackmail and so). And it happen almost the same to me so it kinda made my trauma rise. But as I said you made me curious so it won't stop me from reading it and I should really get over that trauma 🙁

But question..

If MC feel very comfortable with them, will she prank them just to see their reaction? (Like trying to test the water how feral will they go if she *you can chose*) something like that.

________________________________________

And I want to sing this song to MC so bad.

🎵"You don't have to try so hard, you don't have to give it all away."

" Take your make up off, put your hair down. Take a breath. Look in the mirror. At yourself. Don't you like you? Cause I like you." 🎵

I also kina have a feeling the boys will tell and shower her in complement if she ever think she isn't pretty or beautiful enough.

ANYWAY how are you and do you like Disneyland? (I have never been there before. Kinda feel Jealous but I'm happy if you enjoy your week with a smile on your face there. You deserve the break and everything that you need.)

- Yours only 🦙 anon (that need to sleep now or else she going to be a ghost in the morning)

ahhh im sorry you've been through the situations I am putting the mc through. This chapter might be kind of triggering then, but I always try to make sure that I accurately tag all the warnings that I can. if it helps, the boys make sure things don't get to far, and shut things down pretty quick!

I think she might prank them when comfortable, but like not an emotion based prank?if that makes sense? like she would do something with a whoopi cushion and not like a fake hickey type thing. her human is very much like Jin's, she loves dad jokes and has a very dry humor.

I am doing okay! Just trying to make sure I am packing everything I need and leaving my grandpa with enough so I feel comfortable being ten hours away😅 im making him cookies and snacks and ive bought his favorite drinks for him for when my sister and I are gone.

I leave on Monday and I am driving the 9ish hours south to Anaheim where Disneyland is so I will definitely not be on here most of the day! then Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday are park days and then I drive home Friday! I will definitely post some pictures here and maybe a face reveal (probs a pic of my sis and i)((or an outfit pic maybe))

GOOD NIGHT HAVE THE SWEETEST DREAMS MY RJ ANONNY🥰

#purpleyoonn #purpleyoonn ask #petrichor #petrichor ask #purpleyoonn update #🦙 anon

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raleighcarrera · 4 years ago

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falling

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

a little while ago i posted about the idea of a soulmate au where the first words raleigh & cadence say to each other are tattooed on them their whole lives, and this... is that. (for @platinumweekend ❤️)

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @emomoustache ; @natesewell ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @brycemaloliver ; @grigori-girl ; @dulceghernandez ; @bitchloveskcbaseball ; @withbeautyandrage

~10.5k words | T

the words appear in looping script on his thirteenth birthday, right on time. they curve along the inside of his bicep, innocently punctuated. what’s your name?

“you got lucky,” one of his older cousins tells him, later, when everyone in his family comes by for cake and to ooh and aah over his new tattoo, “you’ll be able to hide that with a shirt or a jacket easily.”

but raleigh sleeps shirtless every night for the next two years, even when it’s cold, so that the words are the last thing he sees with his head pillowed on his arm before he falls asleep, dreaming of the nameless, faceless person who will one day say them, wondering what their voice might sound like when they do.

ii.

she has a more difficult go of it.

being a thirteen year old girl would be miserable enough without the added pressure of the words that practically feel broadcast across her forehead, most of the time. everyone at school teases her constantly and ruthlessly: say something funny, cadence. go on. tell us a joke!

so it’s difficult not to resent the two words scrawled lazily across her collarbone and the person attached to them, especially in the mornings before school when she’s angrily rearranging her neckline and jewelry in the mirror while the bus idles outside.

very funny. she isn’t, really. she’s plenty of things -- determined and passionate and sensitive, definitely, but... no one’s ever found her particularly funny, before.

and no one seems to understand just how much the expectation of having to be funny, one day, is weighing on her, not even her parents, when she finally works up the courage to squeak out, “but how am i supposed to know what i should say?”

her mom laughs indulgently, like she’s already said something funny. her stomach sinks further.

“oh, sweetheart,” she tells her, “don’t worry, it won’t matter. you just will.”

iii.

people ask him about it. a lot.

it gets difficult to keep it a secret as things change around him, but raleigh’s careful to avoid slip-ups and paparazzi photos and he doesn’t say a word about it in interviews, even when he’s asked directly. he’s never seen without short sleeves on, at the very least, and he doesn’t even tell blair and cameron about it.

he sort of wishes he had, though, because as his life turns upside down and he adapts to a new country with a new set of rules and an industry that makes his head spin most of the time it starts to feel more and more confusing, those three words -- what’s your name?

everywhere he goes, thousands of girls blocking the street scream it at him. so how is it possible that whoever’s waiting to meet him doesn’t already know it?

and what does that mean for how the rest of his life is going to turn out?

what if all of this -- the fame and the money and the notoriety -- is fleeting, and he’s only a few short years from being completely washed up and irrelevant? what if the day he’s meant to meet his person is so far away that he’ll be completely out of the spotlight, by then, with sunset skatepark playing reunion tours and him having spent most of his life alone?

it’s a lot of pressure, for someone who’s already working their way through such a serious adjustment, and most of the time it’s dizzying, thinking about the fact that there’s someone out there who’s supposed to be perfect for him, when everyone he meets seems determined to forget every word they know other than yes, so they can suck up to him as much as possible.

his teenage years fly by in a whirlwind of mistakes and regrets. there’s things he would’ve never dreamed would come his way, like world tours and more money than he can count and so many girls who know everything about him before they even sit down to dinner, but there’s more than that, too.

there’s all the ways the industry weakens his trust until it’s gone, all the people who try to use him for what he can do for them, all the times he stumbles until he finally learns to distance himself by cultivating a persona, by leaning into all the expectations of raleigh carrera and creating something so outlandish it doesn’t hurt as much when disaster follows him around because it’s supposed to.

he watches everything that surrounds him turn fake and plastic and puts his energy only into his music, coasting on the rest. the days are less exciting than when he first joined the band at fifteen; he’s a solo artist, now, and most of the time, he’s just trying to get through.

but chaos continues to follow him and eventually his notoriety is inescapable. his first solo album is self-titled and he somehow manages to get a trademark on the word raleigh, as if the name is now more his than anything that ever belonged to the state of north carolina, and part of him sort of expects the words stamped on his arm to change, once he hits one-hundred million followers on his social channels.

they never do, though, and when he’s alone, and the veneer he’s built up for everyone else fades away, he can’t help but to be fascinated by this person who just wants an answer to the question no one else would ever dare ask him.

iv.

college isn’t exactly the fresh start she was hoping it’d be.

she was a loser in high school and things don’t get much better for her even now that she’s with ‘her people’ at a performing arts university she can barely afford, even with two part-time jobs.

shane is across the country at a proper state school with parties and a social life and lots of friends who aren’t her, and she’s failing her improv class, proving that she isn’t actually very funny at all.

boys continue to not notice her and patrons in bars continue to turn away from her one-woman performance, her old acoustic guitar the only constant in a life that feels utterly, unbelievably pointless, most of the time.

it’s like she’s drifting through the days, putting her time in at college in the hopes that it’ll fortify her for what’s next -- her big break, the discovery that’ll get her out of that shitty small town she’s been trying to escape her entire life. she writes hundreds of songs about how lost she feels and hates every single one, dreaming of a time when things might be different and she doesn’t have to second-guess every single one of her decisions.

she doesn’t have much of a love life and tries not to think about that, either.

the person on the other side of those two words stuck on her collarbone is probably looking for someone self-confident, who knows who they are and is comfortable with that. they’re probably expecting to meet someone who has their life together, who, at the very least, has a plan.

they’re probably not expecting a talentless nobody screwup like her, someone who tries as hard as she can yet never seems to make anything work.

things don’t turn around after graduation, either. sure, she manages to find an apartment in a building that’s nice enough and uses the last of her savings on the deposit and trying to furnish it, but it’s only a few weeks of trying and failing to secure a regular paying gig performing before she’s back at smoothie star again, begging for her old job back.

and there’s nothing that makes her feel more like a failure than working the same shifts she had in high school.

as she hums along to the radio on a random tuesday afternoon when the store is dead and there’s nothing to blend, she wonders what mr.-or-mrs. very funny would think if they walked in and saw her here -- twenty-three years old and flat broke, with a dead-end job and a one-bedroom apartment all she has to show for her very expensive and very useless bachelor’s degree.

that, and a notebook full of half-finished songs about relationships she could only ever dream about and an escape from the miserable small town she lives in that feels farther away with every day that passes.

she can’t imagine they’d be very impressed.

raleigh’s life gets monotonous very quickly. the music takes a backseat to the scandals and for a while there’s a predictable pattern of cause trouble, clean up image, rinse and repeat.

there are girls in between the cycles to help him pass the time. some he likes well enough and some he despises, but for the most part his management gives their recommendations and he agrees and makes awkward conversation for an hour or two over brunch until it’s time to go trash something again.

things get particularly bad after one minor cruise ship hijacking incident.

but in his defense, no one ever told him that breaking into the harbor and joy riding was a first-degree felony, worsened by the fact that he’d just so happened to crash the boat into the pier while he was trying to dock it.

at least he’d been sober.

though a monumental fuck up like this felt sort of inevitable; everyone who knew him probably figured it was only a matter of time before he went too far. how could he not when he was always chasing the next high?

still, the image rehab tour that follows is far from what he’d call enjoyable. he has to cut off all his hair and play nice at industry parties and waste time standing around being seen at charity events he winds up just cutting checks for instead of helping out at.

on top of the miserable community service comes the pr bullshit his team so loves -- dozens of tv appearances back-to-back where he’s herded around all day like cattle, in and out of green rooms with crappy coffee and bad catering.

he has no idea that showing up to be a judge on one in a million is going to change his life. hungover and running late, he barely even makes it to the taping of the semi-finals, slinking inside the concert hall in middle-of-nowhere, usa with a headache and some choice words for whoever thought this was the best way to clean up his image.

fortunately, raleigh manages to make his way inside virtually unnoticed. his phone is buzzing angrily in his pocket -- undoubtedly his manager trying to encourage him to hair and makeup or some other absurdity -- but he ignores it in favor of ducking back behind the line near the auditorium doors, only barely catching the last few words of some catty confrontation between two contestants as he goes.

as one of the girls stomps away, he sees the other’s shoulders slump from behind. “guess i’m not making any friends,” she mutters.

it’s clearly said to no one -- not even to herself, really -- yet for some reason, he can’t stop himself from responding. “where i come from, that’s a good thing.”

the girl’s shoulders straighten, but she still doesn’t turn around. “i’m not trying to succeed at the cost of others.”

raleigh smirks, leaning back against the wall beside his guitar case. “you do realize you’re at a competition show, right?”

“of course, but...” her hair ruffles with what sounds like a huff. she’s still not facing him, staring off at where the other girl she’d been talking to had run away. “that doesn’t mean i’m not rooting for everyone here to share their music with the world.”

“what a sweet sentiment,” raleigh drawls sarcastically, almost feeling a little bad for her and her naivety. this poor girl is going to be eaten alive. “it won’t last.”

her body tenses, her shoulders tightening again. he can almost see smoke start to pour from her ears before she spins suddenly on her heel to face him.

whatever sharp retort had been on the tip of her tongue gets swallowed with a blink as soon as their eyes meet. something like electricity crackles in the space between them, strengthening the invisible pull he’d felt when he first stopped behind her. instead, she only asks, “what’s your name?”

vi.

the man in front of her snorts. “very funny.”

a smile tugs at her lips. “very funny, that’s a weird name.” this is unlike her -- the quick comeback, the flirting. usually being face-to-face with a guy as good looking as the one talking to her now made her want to wither away and die, but something about the stranger standing before her sets her instantly at ease. “so, are you gonna tell me, or not?”

now it’s his turn to blink at her. a hand lifts to rub at his jaw. “huh. you really don’t know who i am, do you?”

cadence’s eyes narrow as she assess him. there is something vaguely familiar about that crooked grin, she’s sure of it.

at the very least, it’s an excuse to stare at him, and she does, moving her eyes slowly over the tattoos poking out over his jacket collar, the line of stubble on his sharp jaw, the glint of mischief in his eyes.

her helpless gaping is interrupted by a sudden shrill scream. “oh. my. god! is that raleigh carrera?!”

everything clicks at once. as a wild group of girls corner him, she realizes where she’s seen that smile before -- on just about every tabloid cover known to man, plastered all over convenience stores and the internet with headlines about his latest bender. in fact, she’s pretty sure he was just in the news for something similar -- crashing a yacht or something else ridiculous like that, something that only someone as rich as raleigh carrera could have accomplished.

then she realizes what he’d said to her, as soon as she’d turned to look him in the eyes. very funny.

her heart stops. all she can do is stare wide-eyed at him as he dispels the girls clamoring for a selfie, snapping back to the present when he waves one large hand in front of her face.

“sorry -- what?”

“i said, what’s your name? it only seems fair, now that you know mine, and all.”

“cadence,” she answers numbly, “i’m -- um, i’m used to your hair being longer.”

“cadence,” raleigh repeats, smiling at her, “so you do know who i am.”

“what do the magazines call you again? r&b’s time bomb? puerto rico’s hottest export? you’re kind of notorious.” she blinks at him, then admits, “i’ve heard your songs.”

“seen the tabloid covers too, eh?” the expression on his face suggests he’s almost proud of them.

this is surreal.

“didn’t you crash a yacht or something?” she asks, brain whirring into overdrive as she tries to process what’s happening. he doesn’t seem to have realized it yet, which gives her a moment to gather her thoughts, something that feels impossible when she can’t push the way he’d scoffed very funny out of her mind.

“or something. insurance paid out a couple million in property damage, but...” raleigh trails off, brow suddenly furrowing. he stares at her silently for a beat too long, then slowly turns a dull red. “hey, what’d you say earlier, again?”

cadence wets her dry lips, trying not to panic. stay calm, she silently coaches herself. raleigh carrera is not your long-awaited soulmate and you are not doing this in line to audition for one in a million. “i said -- what’s your name? and then you said...”

oh god, this is happening. her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she fidgets with the neckline of her top, tugging it to the side so raleigh can see the two words on her collarbone.

“very funny,” he mutters, “oh, jesus fucking christ. you can’t be serious.”

“me?” she demands, “you’re the one who --”

“next up,” calls a voice suddenly, cutting sharply through their argument, “contestant #9,276.”

her blood runs cold as she realizes that’s the number she’s wearing pinned to her shirt. she can feel herself start to sweat; how the fuck is she supposed to perform like this? she wants to throw up. why did this have to happen to her now? this was her shot -- her one fucking chance --

“hey, easy.” there’s suddenly two strong hands on either side of her shoulders, and she startles as raleigh stares at her from up close, closer than he was just a moment ago. “relax, okay? you’re gonna be fine. you’ve got this.”

“but --” she starts, then realizes her mind is racing too quickly to even articulate what she wants to say. she settles for shaking her head, eyes wide and panicked. “i can’t just -- oh my god, i’m going to throw up.”

“here,” raleigh directs, “take my guitar. prince gave it to me as a birthday present.”

prince?! she mouths hysterically to herself, as he flips the latch on his case open and pulls out the instrument. “how is this supposed to help me?”

“just trust me,” he says, giving her a gentle nudge towards the auditorium, “now go.”

she does, stumbling forward with the most expensive piece of equipment she’s ever held in her hands in her life alongside her, drawing in a deep breath as she makes her way onto the stage.

she can do this.

everything else will have to come after.

vii.

the thing is -- she’s talented. exceptionally so.

he can tell she’s a little nervous, but maybe that’s just because he’s used to looking out for that sort of thing; he could probably recognize it more easily than the average person would. it probably has nothing to do with who they are, how he notices the nuances in her body language...

her belt is impressive. her voice is stunning, clear and uniquely melodic. his guitar looks spectacular in her hands, and cadence plays it like she’s been practicing on it her entire life.

he tries his best to look nonchalant, feet kicked up onto the seat in front of him, but when she locks eyes with him from the stage he knows he hasn’t succeeded. raleigh’s breath catches, and he stares back at her, transfixed by the way her dainty hands cradle the neck of the guitar and strum the strings, how her lips purse around the long, emotional high note at the end of the song’s chorus.

she’s really very pretty.

he’d probably be lying to himself if he said it doesn’t make him a little bit jealous and uncomfortable, watching how she and avery fawn over each other when she’s finished. he’s probably a much better suited match for her, clean cut and pristine as he is.

he wonders if she’s disappointed that it’s him -- that it’s now, when she’s clearly on the cusp of something great all on her own.

it’s a lot to think about, and so he dips out of the auditorium before she finishes up, rushing outside with his heart pounding. it’s not until he’s halfway through the crumpled pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket that raleigh starts to relax even an iota, and of course that’s when the stage door he’d left propped swings open wide and cadence’s sneakers hit the asphalt beside his boots.

“uh, you can’t just leave me with this thing,” she says, apropos of nothing, and as he stares at her he realizes she’s talking about his guitar, which she’s holding in one hand like it’s a dead fish. “this costs more than everything in my apartment combined, i’m sure.”

he shakes his head at her, laughing as his fingers flick ash from the cigarette he’s holding. “no way -- you should keep it. you two looked perfect together.”

she hesitates, looking down at the instrument again. he can see in her eyes that she’s torn; it’s obvious she knows the right thing to do is to refuse a generous gift from a stranger, but she wants to keep it, and already his mind is racing as he considers what else he could give her that would excite her like that -- a private flight, a tour of his penthouse, a million dollars.

“are you sure?” cadence asks, without looking at him, and the hesitancy in her voice makes him realize how unsure she really is. she’s the one who’s wondering if he’s disappointed in her.

he licks his suddenly dry lips and drops what’s left of his cigarette to the ground, finding he doesn’t actually need the rest of it, anymore. “positive.”

viii.

they don’t actually get to spend a lot of time together, while she’s filming. she has to focus and it seems like she’s always busy, somehow -- not that she sees raleigh very often in the first place.

the days are spent rehearsing with avery and cramming in as much mentoring as possible, and when she can pull herself away from fiona’s lessons on image to get home at a reasonable hour she collapses into bed pretty much immediately, out like a light from the whirlwind of the day and hardly even aware enough to dream.

but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about him. she does, especially on the rare occasions she manages to catch a glimpse of raleigh walking around in the studio, or on one memorable evening she stays late in the auditorium to bang on the piano keys of the beautiful, enviable baby grand on set and startles to find him leaning in the doorway, watching her play.

it’s all a blur and wildly difficult to process; just when she thinks she has a grip on things she remembers the private moments she’s had with raleigh and her emotions tumble to pieces again as she lets the weight of the implications of what’s going on between them crush her completely.

one moment sticks out on her as being particularly worrisome, insofar as how it bodes for the rest of her life.

it feels like something significant from the moment raleigh offers to help her warm up; they’ve hardly had a moment alone together in days and she still has absolutely no idea how she’s supposed to talk to him or what she should say, but for some reason the conversation flows easily and she hardly has to think about the (no doubt incredibly stupid-sounding) words coming out of her mouth.

“you’re going to kill it,” raleigh says finally, once they’ve worked through all the exercises in his arsenal, “you really don’t need my help.”

never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine someone like him would say something like that to her. “you think?”

“i know it,” he answers confidently, shrugging his shoulders like it’s that simple. “and you should, too.”

there’s a moment of silence where they just stand there staring at each other, ignoring the restless murmuring of the crowd outside that’s waiting for him to slip into his seat at the judge’s table. she’s effortlessly lost in raleigh’s eyes, so fixated on the intensity of his gaze that she doesn’t realize he’s leaning in closer until it’s too late.

“insurance policy,” he mutters, before he kisses her, hands cupping her face gently.

for a split second, she stands frozen, shocked totally still. then, her brain reboots enough to propel her into motion, and cadence gets with the program enough to wind her arms around raleigh’s waist and pull him closer and kiss him back, until her heart’s lurched up into the throat she’d just been warming up, pounding relentlessly.

they make out until the roar of the crowd is deafening -- until it’s impossible not to acknowledge it any longer.

of course raleigh’s a life-ruiningly good kisser. why wouldn’t he be? why should any of this be easy?

it’s only a few simple touches, but raleigh’s mouth leaves her dizzy and lightheaded when she’s supposed to be concentrating on performing, and, independently of the way she’s blinking at him in stupid shock, cadence already knows she’ll never be able to kiss anyone else ever again without thinking about him.

“i have to get out there,” she gasps between desperate presses of their lips against each other, grasping ineffectively at his clothes while his fingers tug her hair out of shape.

“be late,” he suggests, “it always works for me.”

but she’s not him. she’s not like him -- they have nothing in common. they come from different worlds; they’re two completely opposite people.

and yet every minute with raleigh is like coming up for air after being underwater for years, like the knots of guilt and shame and awkward embarrassment she’s carried around for her entire life without understanding why she has them are slowly starting to undo themselves, unlaced by his careful fingers.

they make it out there. eventually.

before she knows it, confetti’s raining down from the ceiling and falling all over her, and she locks eyes with raleigh from across the room to find his lips pulled into a genuinely affectionate grin -- lips that she’d just kissed for the first time a fucking hour ago and, seriously, what is her life now -- his eyes bright and excited.

things just keep getting weirder and weirder, but the way they’re beaming at each other like idiots in a room full of thousands, broadcast on national television, too, makes her think things might be pretty great, too.

ix.

it sort of takes them a long time to getting around to talking about it -- the soulmate thing.

it’s not that he doesn’t try. he does, but she’s got a lot going on, these days: a big move and a new record deal and days filled with songwriting and nights out being seen. he’s still on his image cleanup tour, while she’s at it, so his fake smile stays fixed on his face throughout another boring week of restaurant openings and charity events and talkshow appearances before he finally gets the chance to spend some time with her again.

they text here and there, but nothing pans out until the stars align and they manage to slip out of the back door of a nightclub unnoticed together after a night of dancing too close for the comfort of her publicist while avery and the others cause a commotion at the front entrance to distract the press.

she goes back to his penthouse with him. he can’t remember the last time he brought a girl back to his apartment just to talk, and especially not one who spent the better part of the evening in a sparkly minidress grinding against him.

but here they are.

“so -- how’s the city treating you?” raleigh asks, pouring them both a drink he doesn’t want from the bar cart in the corner of the room for something to do with his hands.

cadence shrugs from where she’s perched on the edge of his sofa, tugging at the hem of her dress. “good, i guess. it’s honestly all kind of overwhelming.”

“yeah,” he nods, passing her one of the glasses in his hands and taking a seat on the ottoman in front of her, close enough to see her face in perfect clarity but still maintaining a distance that he hopes is respectful. “i know what you mean. when i first came here after joining sunset skatepark everything felt so... huge.”

“totally,” cadence answers quickly, nodding in a way that’s almost aggressive. “i mean, there’s so much pressure to deliver an album right away, but i want it to be perfect, and the studio is so different from, like, writing songs in my room at home, and i... i guess i feel kind of homesick, but -- not for my hometown. i hated that place.” there’s hesitancy in her gaze when she asks, “do you know what i mean?”

“yeah,” raleigh says again stupidly, because the truth is -- he knows exactly what she means. cadence has just articulated something he could never quite put into words better than he’d even thought the sentiments to himself. “it’s like... nostalgia for something you don’t even want.”

“exactly,” she breathes emphatically, and then they’re kissing again, and she’s in his lap on the ottoman and he definitely brought her here to talk, for sure, but is it really so terrible if they get a little sidetracked on the way to their destination?

well -- they wind up making out for hours. so, there’s that.

it’s not part of the plan but it’s a hell of a side quest, memorizing the shape and feel of her with his hands while her lips pull every last bit of breath from his lungs, until he’s lightheaded and dizzy in a way no other girl has ever made him, before. it’s to the point where when he finally finds it within himself to push her away, he’s uncharacteristically nervous -- something that’s never happened to him before, not even on the night he lost his virginity.

“i really did ask you over to talk,” he says, voice hoarse.

cadence licks her lips and then beams at him, eyes sparkling. “i know.” she shuffles delicately back onto the couch, lingering in his lap for only a moment before pulling away entirely. he stuffs his hands under his thighs to stop himself from reaching out for her again. “sorry i haven’t been around more.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” raleigh shakes his head. “i should be apologizing to you, i feel like... i should be the one who’s around, to help you with all of this. or at least -- i want to be. i don’t know if i’ll be any good at it.”

he blinks, surprised by his own honesty. he hadn’t meant to say all of that, but the words came up before he was cognizant of them and now they’re out there, and there’s no taking them back -- especially with the way she’s looking at him, all soft and sweet and happy.

“well, you don’t have to be good at it,” cadence murmurs, reaching out for his wrists and tugging his hands free so she can interlock their fingers effortlessly. they fit together like puzzle pieces. “you just have to be you.”

her budding relationship with one of the biggest names in r&b doesn’t have much time to bud at all before it’s rudely plucked from the plant and stepped on.

she finds herself blinking at fiona in confusion as the words take some time to process. “you want me to do what?”

xi.

raleigh balks at his manager, shaking his head emphatically. “no,” he spits out, “absolutely not.”

xii.

“cadence, it’s not a big deal,” fiona tells her, very nearly rolling her eyes. “everyone does it. you go on a few dates, play up the relationship for some photos, social media eats it up -- boom, you’re a star.”

“i don’t know,” she answers hesitantly, mind drifting back to the photographers that have already been following her around, screaming about avery when she ducks into the car with him. things with raleigh are... new, and complicated, and do they really need to add public scrutiny into the mix as well? “i just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“it’s a great idea,” fiona sighs, shaking her head. “all our focus groups agree. the label thinks it’s best, what with your single taking so long to put out.” she opens her mouth to protest -- it’s not like she’s dragging her feet on purpose -- but barely has a second to get a word out before fiona continues, “besides, raleigh does this all the time.”

her teeth bite at her bottom lip uncertainly. “he does?”

“of course. chantal clearwater? she was a pictagram model when they met, and now she’s opening shows at paris fashion week. it’s just business.”

it’s not, though. it could never be just anything, for reasons no one else knows about except the two of them, for reasons she’ll never tell. “well... what did raleigh say about it?”

xiii.

“i said no, frank.” he’s annoyed, now, and his manager knows it, raleigh’s arms folded across his chest and his eyes set into a glare. “n. o. no.”

“and i hear you, but is it really the end of the world? she’s exactly what we’re going for, and i know you already get along --”

“which is exactly why i don’t want to do this. so pick someone else. anyone else.” he’s not going to let his label turn her into one of the girls he has to be seen with for fake photos and mutually beneficial positive press.

for so many years, he’s watched people fake feelings and use each other -- willingly participated in the using himself, too, more times than he can count. he never cared about any of it before.

but being with cadence doesn’t feel fake, and he doesn’t ever want it to. and he knows that if he agrees to this, everything he enjoys about spending time with her will disappear in favor of the ugly, plastic decay that’s eaten away at so many of his personal and professional relationships before. organic, genuine time with her will become strolls near celebrity hotspots, angling just right to help the cameras get the perfect shot. he’ll show up to support her at shows because her publicist called him, and their time together will become some manufactured narrative meant to push their labels’ agenda, until six months down the line they don’t even recognize themselves or what might’ve been if they’d done things a different way.

“look, there isn’t anyone else. her team’s already agreed to it, and i’ve got brunch set up for sunday. all you have to do is play nice for two fucking months, raleigh. is that so impossible for you?”

yes. already he feels a deep-seated desire to go somewhere and break something, to tear through the flower beds in central park with his motorcycle and wink at the cameras when they catch up to him.

instead, he storms out of the office he’s in, and into the sunlight, tugging the hood on his jacket up and melting into the crowd on the corner so he can be as anonymous as possible when he picks up his phone and calls cadence.

“hey raleigh,” she chirps as soon as she picks up, sounding far too cheerful for someone who’s likely had an equally as miserable early morning meeting on a friday. “guessing you heard the news?”

“can’t i just call you to say hi?” he grumbles, ducking his head as he strolls through the intersection with the mob of people crowded along fifth ave, turning down the next side street so he’s alone again, with no one following, just like that.

“well, you can,” she teases, and some of the anger he’s carrying around with him fades, dissipating into nothing and evaporating like smoke. “but you’re not.”

“no, i’m not,” he agrees with a sigh, shaking his head. “you sound surprisingly cool with it, though.”

“should i not be?” cadence laughs, but he can detect a thread of nervousness in her tone. “i already want to hang out with you. we have the same friends and work in the same industry. we’re... probably going to go on dates anyway, so... how hard can this be?”

god. she has absolutely no idea. part of him thinks it’d be cruel to burst her bubble, but he should warn her, shouldn’t he?

she sounds so optimistic about it, though. it’s hard to feel anything but hopeful when her voice turns up like that at the end. in the back of his mind, there’s a voice that’s not his suggesting maybe this time, things will be different.

surely he knows better than to think something as ridiculous as that, though, right?

“well, i guess it’ll be interesting, at least,” he muses, slowing his steps by the entrance to the subway.

he’s going to lose his signal just as soon as he heads underground, and he’s not quite ready for that, yet.

xiv.

time with raleigh flies by.

it doesn’t feel like they’re fake-dating -- they do everything she hopes he’d want to do with her anyway, like go out to eat at fancy restaurants and take walks through the park and bounce melodies for songs off of each other, facetiming late at night from their apartments or on the days he visits her and micah in the studio.

he’s by her side for the release of her first single, and her first music video, and through it all, raleigh plays the role of the doting partner perfectly, holding her purse on the red carpet and feeding her paella at a strategically-placed outdoor table and fetching her coffee order when she’s too busy to stop writing for even just five minutes.

in the blink of an eye, it’s time to put out her album -- just like that.

raleigh’s perfectly charming through that process, too. he shows up on time, says all the right things, and keeps a drink in her hand all evening long, so that when she’s finally done making the rounds and can enjoy herself after the entertainment and the networking and the schmoozing she’s giggly and touchy, doing her best to steal him away from the crowd.

“what were your other relationships like?” she asks, half expecting him to brush her off, though he’s always indulged her before. they’ve never really gotten this personal. “fake or... otherwise.”

“they’ve all been fake,” he shrugs, “and i can say with confidence that you’re the best one i’ve ever had.”

“really?” cadence smiles, chin propped up on her hand as she leans over the bar. “be honest. what did you really think, when you realized it was me?”

“what?” he asks, pushing the empty rocks glass in his hands around on the bar top, “you mean this thing?” he gestures at his arm, covered in expensive, custom tom ford, and the tattoo laying innocently beneath it.

“uh huh,” she confirms, “‘cause i was totally like oh shit.”

raleigh laughs, loud and wild, the sound swallowed up by the noise of the party around them. no one nearby is paying them even an ounce of attention, and it’s fun, to be anonymous at her own party, invisible to everyone in the room except for him. “i can imagine. i wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either.”

cadence shakes her head -- that’s not what she’d meant. but before she can protest, he rolls his glass between his palms and thoughtfully continues, “i guess i was a little surprised. it felt like i’d been waiting forever to meet you, so part of me was like, fuck, we’re doing this now? and i never thought it’d be someone so...”

“boring?” she suggests, eyebrows arching when raleigh’s expression immediately twists into one of disagreement, his nose scrunching up with distaste.

“no,” he huffs, “so... good, i guess.” she stares at him as he reaches for one of the waiting tequila shots on the bar, pulling it away from the line he’d set up for the crowd he’d been with before she’d tugged him to the side to talk, leaving the drinks untouched. raleigh knocks the shot back -- no salt, no lime. he’s had twice as many drinks as she has, and she’s definitely feeling them -- she has no idea how he’s even still upright, no worse for wear other than a few slurred words here and there. “but you just are. it’s like every song i’ve ever written was about you, and i just didn’t know it yet.”

the noise of the party fades in favor of the pounding of her heart, loud like a kick drum in her ears. she bites her lip and stares at him, watching as raleigh shakes his head at himself, dazed. “you okay?” she asks quietly, leaning in a little across the bar.

raleigh’s quiet for so long she has to wonder whether or not he actually heard her. just as she clears her throat and opens her mouth to repeat herself even louder, he nods, reaching across the bar and squeezing her hand before dragging her back over to the line of tequila shots waiting for them to enjoy.

the night is a blur after that, and there’s patches of the evening that are fuzzy in her memory the next morning, but she knows she’ll never forget the gentle kiss goodnight raleigh gives her when he helps her stumble into the car back to her apartment at dawn.

xv.

things go really well, until they don’t.

they have a blissful six months together with more fun than he’s ever had with anyone. slowly, he learns every single thing about cadence and returns her openness with honesty of his own -- honesty that feels strange and unfamiliar but weirdly thrilling, in a way, made easier every time one of his stories pulls a laugh or smile from her.

it seems unnatural, having a honeymoon period that goes on for so long. in the entire time they’re dating, he doesn’t destroy a single thing -- doesn’t even want to, which is the weirdest part of it all.

there are some moments that catch him completely off guard. more than a few times, he hardly even recognizes himself, she turns him into such a different person.

he doesn’t hate it, though -- just the opposite, in fact. raleigh realizes he’s really starting to like the carefree, far from jaded person he is when he’s with her, though it only hits him for real when he’s watching her storm away from him on liberty island, eyes fixed on the angry sway of her hips.

he stews on it on the long ride back to his penthouse; the game had, admittedly, been starting to wear on him. but he’d gone along with it because it was supposed to benefit her -- he’d agreed to the stupid public breakup and following the rules and not seeing cadence in public for the foreseeable future because it was what she wanted, and -- frankly, it felt like a stupid fucking decision.

not that it lasts long. he starts texting her just as soon as he’s done washing electralite out of his hair and doesn’t make it more than twenty minutes when they first see each other again at the moda gala before he’s sneaking off with her, ducking under the velvet rope that demarcates the planetarium as ‘off limits’ with her hand tucked neatly in his.

“maybe this is better,” cadence muses between sips of her drink, her eyes on one of the stupid glass exhibits he couldn’t possibly care less about. “now we can just be together -- no pressure. our relationship is ours again.”

their relationship. is that what this is? they’ve spent a lot of time talking about who they are and what they like and don’t like, kissing and touching and holding hands. throughout it all, he’s done his best not to buy into the ‘soulmate’ bullshit too heavily, but over the last few months it’s been hard to deny that there’s a reason he was meant to meet her, that she’s been changing him from the inside out.

“what’s on your mind?” she asks, turning towards him with an open look of genuine curiosity on her face, like she really wants to know.

“it’s nothing,” raleigh answers at first, reflexively, like he has so many times before. no one has ever really wanted to know. but cadence’s eyebrows arch, and she waits, patiently silent, and then the words tumble out of him. “it’s just that -- my whole life, i’ve watched other people use each other. so many people are just interested in the concept of celebrity status. so i played the game. never trusting anyone.”

he shrugs. a hand lifts to rub his jaw, and he looks back to meet her gaze just in time to see the little smile playing at her lips, like she already knows what he’s about to say. “but it’s different, with you. you make me not want to be that person anymore. when i’m with you, it’s the only time i feel anything real.”

“raleigh,” she murmurs, her expression flickering before her face does something that cracks his chest wide open. her eyes go all shiny and sparkly and her cheeks crease with a grin, and the way she laughs is so ridiculously joyful the hand he has stuffed in his pocket curls into a fist to stop him from doing something stupid. “i feel the same way. i just... this whole thing, i know it doesn’t always -- work out, but... with you i really want it to. i’ve never felt this way before about anyone, and i think...”

there’s a pause as her lips purse thoughtfully, and then she says the words that make it impossible for him to do anything but close the distance between them and kiss her over and over again: “i think even without this tattoo it’d be you, anytime, anywhere.”

xvi.

being raleigh carrera’s (real, confirmed, 100%-authentic) girlfriend feels almost too good to be true.

raleigh is... everything she never knew she wanted in a boyfriend, wrapped up into one tall, dark and handsome package, with a loud, goofy laugh and a deep, sexy voice that sends a shiver down her spine whenever his mouth so much as lingers near her ear for too long.

it turns out that, despite their differing status in the industry and her initial assumptions that they came from two completely different worlds, they’re actually on the same page about pretty much everything. she finds that the pressure of the word she’d held in such high regard for so long -- soulmate -- disappears entirely where he’s concerned because being with raleigh is just fun.

there’s motorcycle rides and boat trips and hours up late talking about everything and nothing; facetime calls with his mom and shopping trips where the stores are kept open late for them so they can shop alone, in an empty boutique, like every teen movie she’d ever watched growing up.

there’s late nights in the studio and either of their apartments where they both noodle around on their guitars and improvise half-hearted duets, content to just work in the same orbit as each other for as long as possible.

raleigh’s texting one night on the couch in her living room when she plucks out the melody to who i’ll be on her old acoustic, sitting on the floor in front of the tv.

he looks up before the first verse is over. “what’s that one? it sounds good.”

“oh -- just a song i wrote in college,” cadence hums, already downplaying it as she lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “i got stuck, never finished it. ellis made me sell the progress for some other writer to finish.”

he frowns, pushing up onto his elbow. his phone is tossed carelessly somewhere among the couch cushions. “why?”

“because i was taking too long with the odyssey,” she sighs. “it was kind of my only option. it’s weird, though -- thinking about someone singing something that was so personal to me.”

“play me what you had so far,” he says, and so she does, hesitating for only a second before strumming the chords, singing the lines she had slowly.

when she’s done, she looks up to find that raleigh’s slid to the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees as he leans in as close as he can get with the coffee table in his way. “okay -- that was beautiful. you should finish it.”

she shakes her head, setting her guitar down. “i can’t. they already sold it. and even if i wanted to... i don’t know how it ends.”

raleigh’s legs spread in invitation and she stands to walk around to the couch, slipping into his lap and leaning back against his chest. his hands are tender as he rubs them across her shoulders, sliding up her back before one lifts to brush a lock of hair back behind her ear, his pointer finger pushing her glasses up her nose affectionately. “maybe one day you can write something else with the same theme,” he suggests, and she tries her best to smile even though it feels like a dream lost, somehow -- a ridiculous thought, given that she pretty much has everything she ever wanted, but the way she feels all the same.

“maybe,” she sighs, the kiss he drops to her forehead a bandaid on a wound that’s been doing its best to heal for what feels like her entire life.

xvii.

he’s never brought a date to the vinyls before.

there’s been plenty of after parties he’s stumbled out of with a girl on his arm, sure, but cadence is the first person to sit by his side during the ceremony, and he’s surprised by how much he likes having her next to him.

then again, he’s self aware enough to realize he’d like being pretty much anywhere, with her.

still -- the awards are a lot less boring with her around to kiss and stroke his hair and make snide commentary about the rest of the attendees with, and when she squeezes his hand goodbye to rush backstage and get ready for her performance he misses her instantly.

what happens next makes him endlessly regretful of the fact that he’s not backstage with her.

he rushes around just as soon as he can, pushing his way through security and frantically scrambling technical assistants to find her exactly where he thought he might, between ellis knight and fiona, looking lost with her head in her hands.

she seems equal parts broken and pissed in a way that tugs at his heartstrings and makes him a little bit proud. raleigh shoves through the crowd to get to her and slips an arm around her waist. he’s only caught the tail end of the conversation they’re all having, but he knows enough to know that “you can’t bench her. that’s bull.”

ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter how much they stomp their feet. she’s under contract, their hands are tied, and he walks away seething at the unfairness of it all, this shitty industry that’s turned on her when all she ever wanted to do was make music.

she cries in the car back to her apartment to pack her things. there’s no way he’s letting her go home to iowa or idaho or indiana without him, and he barks at his team over the phone until they agree to move his appearances around so he can make that happen, his free hand clasped tightly in hers until he physically has to let her go so she can unlock her front door with trembling fingers.

cadence tosses clothes haphazardly onto the bed and he silently and precisely moves to folds each piece for her, until she gives up and sinks down onto the edge of the mattress, defeated.

wide eyes filled with tears lock onto his, and he watches her bottom lip wobble before she says, “you really don’t have to do this. come with me, i mean. i know i messed up, and -- you have so much else going on. i don’t expect you to --”

“i’m coming,” he states firmly, setting the sweatpants in his hand down and stepping closer to her, sitting beside cadence on her bed. “what happened tonight was fucked up, cadence -- it shouldn’t have happened at all. i’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“but --”

“but nothing,” he says, and before the words have even left his mouth she’s falling into his arms with a soft sound of gratitude, mashing her face into his chest as she sniffles.

“thank you,” cadence mumbles, sounding so unsure of herself it makes him wonder if she’s ever had anyone show up for her when it mattered most before, or if that’s yet another thing they unfortunately have in common.

xviii.

raleigh tries his best to cheer her up, but it’s still hard, feeling like she’s let the entire world down. her fans. herself.

there’s something embarrassing about showing raleigh her apartment back home and the person she was before she met him -- all the places she felt most uncertain and where she experienced some her worst self-doubt, the room that still has the smoothie star apron hung up in the closet.

but there’s also something exciting, about being totally off the grid with him. no one knows they’re here and there’s no paparazzi waiting to snap photos of them -- especially given the fact that they don’t leave her building for the first three days she spends moping around while raleigh orders all the takeout he can get his hands on.

it sort of reminds her of when they first met, and there was nothing to do but learn about each other, though now there’s a familiarity to him she relies on, a unique raleigh-ness that feels more like home than this shitty apartment ever did.

still, she struggles, and the weight of the world doesn’t let up until zadie shows up with her fanmail and avery does his best to make her smile with a beach trip and some fancy new toys and a day in the sun with a drink in her hand.

eventually it’s just her and raleigh again, out by the fire after everyone else has gone to bed. her stomach is full of s’mores and her cheeks hurt from smiling for the first time in weeks, and it’s a shock when she realizes she feels content, even after everything that’s happened -- almost as though things will all work out for the better no matter what happens next.

“oh my god,” she gasps suddenly, cutting off what raleigh had been saying as her eyes light up and she hastens to stand. “i’ve gotta -- i need to -- oh my god.”

just like that, she knows how her song ends.

recording it is a process, but raleigh calls in some favors and gets them studio time and agrees to be featured on the song even though she knows he’s still working through a sound change that he feels unsure about.

but it means a lot to her, having him crammed in the booth at her side, singing into the same mic. they sound almost unbelievably good together, too, raleigh’s harmonies on the words that finally resolve that lost feeling she’s been harboring her entire life making something deep within her wriggle up happily, wagging its proverbial tail.

the fact that raleigh remains by her side throughout the entire fight with her label, the long nights of despair agonizing over what her next move is going to be and even the moment where they decide to break into indio, of all places, means more to her than she can ever say. she feels markedly less nervous about the entire thing every time she turns her head to the side and sees him, right there next to her -- right where he’s been this entire time -- smiling encouragingly and squeezing her hand hard in his.

though it’s not until they’re up at the top of the ferris wheel that she realizes how precious what she has really is. it’s not until he looks her dead in the eye and says, with that same soft earnestness he’s awarded her since they first met at the one in a million auditions that feel quite literally like a hundred years ago, “cadence, everything you want is on the other side of fear. and i want you to have everything you want,” that she truly understands that’s what between them is special and rare.

not because of any tattoos, or any preconceived destiny. not because of who they are and their status and the fact that people take pictures of them when they’re out in public together.

but because of this -- all these real moments of genuine connection they’ve been fortunate enough to share since fate threw them into each other’s paths.

“raleigh, i love you.” the words are said easily, not a moment’s hesitation behind them.

just before she crosses over in the cart to kiss him until they’re both breathless, raleigh gifts her the brightest smile he has and says, “i love you, too.”

xix.

the night is a blur from the moment he first takes the stage with his old bandmates to when he finally finds himself alone with cadence in a rundown old motel a few miles out from the festival in the desert.

he can’t recall ever being so happy, so of course he doesn’t remember every agonizing detail of the evening, though he does know he doesn’t feel the need to have a single beer with cadence around, twirling barefoot in the grass and giggling when she leads him up to the room they’ve borrowed.

afterwards, when they’re sitting on the roof together in the blanket they dragged off the bed, he reflects on the wild year they’ve had with her in his arms, fingertips tracing the delicate very funny scrawled across cadence’s collarbone.

he feels... free. completely liberated. like there’s absolutely nothing and no one that can get to him, now, like he’s untouchable, like he doesn’t care about a single thing that happens after today and how perfect things have been.

“i think i’m actually freer than i’ve ever been,” he muses, where his lips are pressed into her hair, “i can take my sound in any direction i want.”

“i’m so happy for you, raleigh,” cadence returns genuinely, tilting her head back so he can see her upside-down smile.

his arms tighten around her. “i’m so excited for what you’re gonna be doing, too. i’m excited for us.”

“yeah,” she sighs, “who knows what’s next, right? now that ellis let me out of my deal...”

he can hear the thread of worry undercutting the words. he shakes his head, hands rubbing up and down her arms. “you can worry about that tomorrow. for tonight, just enjoy the comeback. what you did out there was amazing.”

“what we did,” she corrects, and he blinks up the stars as he realizes she’s right -- they’re a we now. he’s part of a we again, after being on his own for so long.

the phrases bounce around in his head, unfamiliar and foreign. me and my girlfriend, he thinks to himself, cadence and i. we’re going to be late. we’ll be away that weekend. we just started watching that show. we, we, we.

“what we did was amazing,” raleigh amends, the words slow to come out but feeling right all the same. “whatever we do next will be amazing.”

“absolutely,” cadence confirms, with conviction, like it’s something she believes wholeheartedly.

and though he has no idea what to expect or what it might be, a large part of him is inclined to agree with her -- she’s been right about everything else so far.

xx.

one year later, she’s finishing a set in berlin, the last stop on a sprawling european tour that had taken she, avery, micah and raleigh across the continent for dozens of performances to sold-out crowds of thousands screaming her lyrics back to her.

if her contract with overknight had been a dream come true, signing to wilshere records is heaven incarnate. cadence’s trip through the u.k. with her new label is proof enough, and the chance to meet new fans with new stories to share that she could connect with is one she’s taken to with enthusiasm, the experience made all the sweeter by the fact that her favorite people get to be by her side throughout it all.

berlin’s crowd is one of the best, and she fully expects to end the tour on a high note, head banging to the last few notes of ‘knockout’ before raleigh’s planned entrance for the last song of the night, so they can sing the duet that’s closed out every show they’ve had on the tour together.

when he struts out with his guitar, waving and grinning at the crowd, she can’t stop herself from smiling stupidly at him, just like she does every time she sees him join her on stage, every time she realizes that this is their life, that this is something they do every night, now.

though her grin falters when raleigh pauses in front of his microphone and asks, “berlin, do you mind if i talk a little bit before i start the song? no? cool, because i’ve got an important question to ask.”

her eyes widen. cadence’s mouth drops open and doesn’t close throughout the entire speech raleigh gives her, even though thousands of people in the crowd are filming every moment of her gaping like an idiot, snapping close-ups of her shocked face.

the arena practically vibrates with screams when he drops to his knee, popping the box in his hand open so she can see the giant diamond ring nestled inside of it.

“so?” raleigh asks, and cadence can just barely hear him in her in-ears with the way her heart is beating frantically up into her throat, as wild as the crowd’s raging around them and then some. “whaddya say, babe? will you marry me?”

as if the answer could ever be anything but yes. she nods, laughing as she launches herself into his arm for a kiss that’s too grand to be given on stage, though that’s hardly going to stop her -- not tonight, at least. tonight, she’s okay with the whole world watching their every move, just one more time.

“oh, i don’t know if it’s going to fit,” raleigh jokes as the ring slides easily onto her left hand, amping up the theatrics for the fans still watching them avidly, even up in the cheap seats.

cadence rolls her eyes playfully at him. “very funny,” she praises, and the grin he offers her in return is so loving -- so knowing, with the secret that only the two of them share and every weird piece of their history included in it -- that it takes everything she has to shove him away so they can perform instead of dragging him down to the floor to kiss him over and over again.

clumsily, she flubs a few notes of love who i’ll be on her guitar. from across the stage, between the bridge and the chorus, raleigh jeers, “someone hasn’t learned to play with the extra weight on their left hand, yet, i see,” and when she flips him off while belting out the last lines of the verse, his raucous laughter is all the harmony the final few bars of the song needs.

#platinumweekend #platinum #raleigh carrera #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x mc #raleigh x cadence #myfic #long post #well. this sure took me a long time DFJGHDFJHGDFJKGH so i hope you guys like it !! it was kind of a new style for me 😳

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anthonyed · 4 years ago

Note

stevetony + no. 99 (“I fell in love with you, not them.”)? only if you want to, of course. no pressure! :)

ive said this before: i LOVED writing this. hopefully you like cats ♡

-//-

Tony says it started like this:

One afternoon, Tony barged into Pepper’s office because he conveniently forgot how to knock and caught her rolling a miniature lint roller up her suit sleeve.

She startled with her high pitched, “Oh my god, Tony!” But, Tony was too fascinated by the lint roller that he kept advancing with a singular focus.

“What is that?”

Pepper bristled, “It’s a lint roller. Why are you here? I told you I don’t want to see you for at least four hours.”

Oh. Right. She was still upset about something Tony did during the board meeting. Menial stuff, unimportant, anyway -

“I know what it is, what I meant is, why are you using that in here?”

At this point, he’s close enough to catch the very fine blonde hair stuck on the roller. “Are you trying to bury the evidence of your boyfriend, Miss Potts? Because while that is very thoughtful, I have a feeling he’d be -,”

“It’s not a boyfriend,” Pepper rolled her eyes. “With you as my boss I don’t have such time -,”

Tony on the other hand, while Pepper was talking, snagged the roller from her hand, “This is - This is not - Ah CHO!”

Pepper winced.

Tony’s jaw dropped.

“Miss Potts,” he asked, deadly calm. “I thought you read and signed all the clauses when you agreed to be my personal assistant.”

“I did, Mr Stark.” Pepper's lips thinned.

Tony dropped the roller on her table; the miniature thing completing two circles before stopping in front of her.

“Then why are there cat hair all over you?”

Despite what Tony likes to think, according to Pepper it started like this:

"Who is that?" Tony asked, low whisper, eyes like hawk fixed on the blonde man with a pink cap -

"Oh!" Pepper exclaimed, leaning sideways and waving to catch the guy's attention. "That would be my lunch."

From the cat cafe, Pepper didn't say. Instead, she hurried out of the room to meet the delivery staff before he could enter; didn't want to risk putting the man responsible for her paycheck in close contact with the one thing he's allergic to: cats' fur.

Now, Pepper doesn't know exactly what Tony thought that day, but when she reentered the room after shoving a 20 dollars bill into the guy's hand, she found Tony to be in some kind of… stupor.

She stopped where she stepped in. The door closed behind her and she asked, "Tony?"

Tony startled. "Is that your boyfriend?"

"What? No!"

"Is he single?"

"Tony -,"

"Who is he?"

Pepper paused. Then she promptly decided to play hard - because secretly she is a menace and Tony is right. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Fast forward the next day; she saw Happy exiting her beloved cat cafe and entering the limo he drives to drop Tony off at work.

She didn't even hesitate; she pulled open the passenger door and slid into the empty seat.

"Fancy seeing you here," she cocked her head, smiling syrupy sweet.

Tony Stark stared wide eyed, like he'd been caught red-handed with a cookie jar.

"Ah HAH!" Pepper pointed at him.

No matter how much Tony denied: "It is not what you think it is!", don't believe him.

It was exactly what it was. In fact, that was how it started.

But Steve never talked to Pepper as much as he talked to Tony. So he obviously thought what Tony claims is right.

That the reason the wildly famous Tony Stark started frequenting Bucky's cat cafe is because he loves cats, and the moment he learned his PA had been hiding this cafe’s existence from him, he bribed her with fancy shoes to get the address.

Happy would say, bullshit.

But as it is, Happy works for Tony and Tony bribes him with a free sandwich of the day every time they visit the cafe to keep his trap shut.

(What can Happy do in the face of excellent sandwiches and delicious Caramel Macchiato? They do say it’s hard to get the caramel swirls on top of the whipped cream right, and whoever makes his drink does it perfectly each time. So at least for the love of that talent, Happy keeps his mouth shut.)

So, when Bucky taps the caramel bottle on the counter and grumbles, “Are you gonna ever ask him out?” - Steve blushes the deepest shade of pink and pries his eyes away from Tony.

“Why would I ever do that?” He busies himself with… nothing.

“Uh, I don’t know Stevie, maybe the fact that he keeps coming back here asking for this vile shit," he pauses to press the cap delicately over the large Caramel Macchiato. "Or that he’s giving you pathetic googly eyes all the time?”

Bucky glares at Steve then he directs that glare at the drink he loathes making the most with all the venom in the world.

“Wherever he’s putting this cursed thing into," he shoves it at Steve. “Here. Go call for your knight in… whatever the fuck he’s wearing.”

Steve turns to look at where Tony’s sitting; in the far left corner in the back of the cafe; in his pinstripe suit and daisy dotted tie paired with white, also daisy dotted, sneakers and a pair of orange-tinted glasses.

Alpine - Bucky's white Turkish Angora - sits pristinely on the table in front of Tony looking like she’s giving him a lecture on something - like father, like daughter - while Tony stares right back at her challengingly.

Liho, who’s Natasha’s favourite kitten (no matter how fervently Natasha denies having a favourite at all) is lounging next to Tony, tail draped lazily over his lap. Mrs Berry in all her tortoiseshell glory, is licking her butt on Tony’s left. Grey Mr Goose is sniffing Tony’s shoes and rubbing up his shin.

Behind the cash-counter, Steve sighs like the hopeless man he is. Bucky’s bemused gaze bores into him steadily.

Steve bristles, “I don’t see what’s wrong with what he’s wearing.” Because as much as Bucky’s wrong about Tony being interested in Steve in any way, he is right in assuming that Steve is.

As a matter of fact, he’s balancing precariously between sanity and lovesick insanity and with every visit from Tony, he’s tipping dangerously towards the latter. Fantastic.

“Idiot,” Bucky snorts, turning to the kitchen. "At least ask him to change the fucking order. For fucks’ sake.”

Which leaves Steve alone with Tony, since it’s 8.30pm on a Tuesday and the cafe would never see a slower business hour than that.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, Steve puts the drink on a tray and checks his reflection on the microwave’s shiny surface - courtesy of Phil, their clean-freak coworker - before he moves.

It’s both scary and amazing how each time he makes his way to Tony, his heart would pitter patter and trip in its running behind his ribcage. So is the way he’d inhale sharply, lashes fluttering when they lock eyes and Tony smiles and -

Steve could just die right then and there.

The first time Steve talked to Tony; he vividly remembers it being a horrible day.

Everything had gone wrong from when the alarm went off that morning - A series of misfortunate events, and he’d just bribed Clint with a promise of dinner from his wallet in exchange for his extra shirt because an idiot on the freeway had driven through a puddle of rainwater soaking Steve dirty and wet.

Then, he’d stepped behind the cash counter for his turn at taking orders when a rich-looking asshole in a gaudy get up started yanking on Steve’s already frayed nerves. The man, with his stupid beard and flashy glasses rattled off what he’d probably thought an impossible order.

But Bucky was the barista for that hour and Steve had never come across an order Buck couldn’t whip up till this day. Right then though, he was calmly speckling cocoa dust on a mocha, letting Steve face their new customer who had evidently walked in to test their capability.

Unfortunately for all parties involved, it was just not Steve’s day.

“Do you want anything else?” He’d asked, after dotting pointedly on the cup.

Tony had leered at him, saying: “Maybe a little smile for the service,” and Steve fucking snapped.

“I’m sorry. But we don’t serve that for assholes.”

He could see Bucky freeze next to him. Tony, on the other hand, looked fully offended. “Excuse me?” he started, peering above his purple glasses, gearing up for a fight and Steve wasn’t going to back down either - putting the empty cup aside as he inhaled and squared up his shoulders.

But Bucky broke it off before it could even begin.

“Rogers, go make sure Barton is not ruining my sourdough,” he spoke up, flat toned, and he squeezed Steve’s arm warningly before offering his best smile to Tony. “I’m sorry, sir. We just ran out of cardamom so if you don’t mind excluding that from your order, I could whip it up for you just fine.”

The sudden professionalism was so jarring for both men that they each stuttered out an affirmative response and that was that.

Steve went into the kitchen, finished his shift, put an end to his awful day and he forgot all about the asshole customer. Until a week after when he returned.

“One caramel macchiato with perfected caramel swirl for Happy Hogan,” Steve places the tray in front of Tony.

Alpine hops down and leaves, bringing her gang with. Tony’s eyes trail after the number of swishing tails, as well as Steve’s.

“They really do like you,” Steve tells him, turning back to Tony with a teasing glint in his eyes; cheeks straining hard to keep a happy smile inside. "Nobody gets that much attention all at once."

Tony snorts, leaning forward in his seat, and he looks up from the rim of his glasses. "Pretty sure it's an intimidation tactic," he squints his eyes at Steve.

"Whatever for," Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck and he looks down at his feet before looking up at Tony. “Are you gonna stay here longer? I was wondering if I should make yours to go or to have here.”

“Oh,” Tony glances at the tray, “So that’s why my drink is not here then,” he grins at Steve.

“You didn’t even notice.”

“Too busy noticing you.”

Steve blinks, “What’s that?”

“To have here,” Tony declares loudly, his eyes flicker as if they’re hiding something, and his next words come out softer, “If you don’t mind having me here for long, that is.”

Steve’s pretty sure he’s blushing; at least his ears must be the shade of tomatoes in the Spring. At least. “No. I - Of course not.” Could have said, stay forever please but luckily for Steve even his self-deprecating tendency has mercy on him. “Shall we?” He signals.

Tony’s eyes go wide as a saucer. “You’re letting me watch you make it?” And there’s excitement in there, Steve could taste it, even if Tony is trying so hard to keep it contained.

“I mean, we’re not busy now,” he shrugs and the doorbell dings, seeing the only couple who was there out. “And we’re closing in fifteen minutes so…” Steve turns back to Tony, mouth stretching slowly into a smile, eyes twinkling and he could see Tony’s face wearing his reflection as he stands up.

“Lead the way, fine Sir.”

Changing opinions is not an easy thing to do; especially those cemented so strongly from first impressions.

Seeing Tony the second time immediately made Steve’s spine tense up. But he’s been on this job for a very long time and he knows how to keep feelings away from his profession. He looks Tony straight in the eyes and beamed at him like sunshine.

“Hello! Welcome to Purricano, what would you like to have today?”

Steve distinctly remembers Tony’s eyes going saucer shape wide that day; two rapid blinks and a slack jaw which required Steve’s arched eyebrows to work. (If you ask Tony, of course he’s going to deny that.)

“You’re smiling today,” he squinted. “Why are you smiling? Do I have something on my face?” His eyes flashed towards the nearest reflective surface and Steve swallowed a bubbling laugh.

“Except for your fashionable pink sunglasses, I assure you, there is nothing on your face, Mister,” (and your stupid goatee), Steve kept smiling creepily.

Tony’s eyes grew narrower, and he glanced over his shoulder once - making sure no one else was waiting in line - before leaning close to the counter. He beckoned at Steve with one elegant finger, and he hushed, “Do you really think it’s fashionable?”

And the first bubble of laughter escaped out of Steve’s chest that day.

Never stopped ever since.

Tony makes him happy. There’s no denying in that.

It’s probably why Bucky keeps pestering Steve to ask him out; because it’s been years since Steve last laughed. Genuinely, and this loud.

“Oh god,” he clutches his stomach, wiping tears from his eyes.

The horrible latte art Tony attempted stares back with ugly googly eyes when he looks down and he bursts into another fit of laughter.

He could feel one of the felines’ tail curling around his ankle curiously, and a pair of large green eyes peer up at him longingly with an accompanying pitiful meow.

“Not,” Steve tells her.

None of the cats are allowed on the counter; even Alpine doesn’t get the pass. But she likes to try the most out of them all. The rest are already settled for bedtime, and Steve briefly thanks his quick wit to flip the sign close on the front door before he starts showing Tony around.

He turns to him with aching cheeks, tingling skin but the remnant of his grin dies when he sees Tony’s face. Something else takes residence in his belly instead; wings flapping neurotically, lifting to fly away.

“What?” he asks, lashes fluttering, breath sticking like glue on the lining of his throat. Because Tony looks dazed, like he’d just witnessed something divine but got no vocabulary enough to describe what was that.

He shakes his head, inhale sounding sharp, and he tries to bury his words under a chuckle but Steve hears him this time. “You’re beautiful.”

Loud like a Church’s bell, echoing even after and Steve’s heart stutters in his chest. Hope, blossoms like Queen of the Night; rapid and shy. Would die with a single ‘no’ from Tony, would probably never bloom again after this, but the hope is heavy as well as pretty; pushes Steve to ask Tony, “Did you mean that?”

Tony’s eyes snap up and Steve could see the same hope growing in them. “Are you kidding me?” he asks, voice high with a nervous tremor and it comes out like a breathy bark. His shoulders come loose, all limbs as well, and he reaches out for Steve before he stops himself.

Can I? His eyes ask, and Steve takes a step forward. Of course; his gesture screams. Of course, you can.

Tony's hand touches his cheek and Steve thinks maybe this Queen of the night would live to see daylights.

He shudders, full body. Closes his eyes tight and wills those butterflies in his belly to calm down. He smells Tony before he hears him; spice and a spilled can of cinnamon from just now. "Shh," Tony tells him. "Shh," and Steve sighs into his palm.

His thumb drags a stripe under his eye, and Tony says, "God, Steve… Can't you see how bad I want you?"

The truth is no. Steve didn't see it. He shakes his head.

"Why'd you think I keep coming back," Tony asks, so close now that Steve swears he could hear the rumble in his chest even if their bodies are not touching. Yet.

Feeling somewhat more grounded, he guesses, "For the cats?"

And Tony laughs.

Not just a little but a full hearty laugh that makes him wheeze.

"Oh no," he splutters, trying to gather himself apiece while Steve's surprise slowly shifts into a scowl.

"No, no, no," he chants, reaching for Steve again, catching his face with two hands, cupping and Tony's so bright with joy when he presses their foreheads together.

"Steve, Steve, Steven," he breathes. "Honey, I can’t go near a cat without popping twenty antihistamines."

"I'm allergic to them."

"What?" Steve pulls back. More shocked than surprise now. "But -,"

"It's you," Tony cuts him off, pulling him back by his hips, and he butts his head into Steve’s breastbone. Buries his next words in there; "I fell in love with you, Rogers. Not them.”

And he sounds almost whiny but Steve can see now, why; can’t believe Tony’s been inhaling allergy medications to see Steve -

“Jesus Christ.” A little frustration seeps into Steve’s own voice as he buries his fingers into Tony’s hair. “I can’t believe you’re allergic to cats.”

A betrayed meow sounded from below and both of them look down to find Liho, gazing expectantly at Tony. “Meow,” she says again.

“Think you got some explaining to do,” Steve smirks, looking at Tony. As if on cue, Tony sneezes so hard that Liho jumps a foot in the air before scrambling away in fear.

“Oh uh,” he cups his mouth and nose, blinking at Steve, lost.

And Steve knows it’s bad to laugh, but he couldn’t help it. At least he saves himself with a smooth invite when he’d calmed down. “Wanna wait outside? Let me close the shop and we’ll…”

“Dinner?”

“Definitely.”

“Great!” Tony grins at him so prettily and Steve, with his heart fluttering in its cage, leans in and kisses him sweet.

#stony #stevetony #mine #prompts

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