#and i want to see more of jessa being happy and with a lovely family

[fairdale]

it’s 2am and my heart feels warm thinking about big brother kit trying to put his little sister mina to sleep without waking tessa and jem up. feels even warmer when i remember jem was watching him do it, that must have felt like a gentle caress to his heart as well. i just know kit is an amazing brother and he loves her with his whole heart, he for sure has the softest spot for her

[diana-bookfairchild]

I can't freaking wait for Better in Black and the first chapter of The Wicked Powers!! The ship list has finally been released for it.

Will and Tessa : Feeling kind of ambivalent about this. I love them, but I prefer Jessa anyway and we just got some content of them in The Last Hours so. . . . *shrugs* Can't say it's unexpected, though.

Clary and Jace: Yes!! YES YES YES!!! I mean, I was pretty sure they were going to be in this, since they're one of the main couples of TSC and the title of the book is from one of Jace's quotes, but still. I am so happy!! I hope this is from when they're being amazing badass heads of institute. Or maybe Lightwood family time?? Whatever, I don't care, I'm just glad one of my all-time OTPs is in.

Anna and Ariadne: My whole The Last Hours experience was weird, so I don't really remember much about them, but I loved them in Every Exquisite Thing and can't wait to see more!

James and Cordelia: Neutral about this one too. The whole James/Matthew/Cordelia love triangle and the way the three of them behaved in the second and third books ruined both Herondaisy and Fairstairs for me. Heronchild for the win!

Sebastian and the Seelie Queen: Weird choice, definitely not expected, but I can't wait to see what this story is about! From some Twitter screenshots I gather this is going to set at least something up for The Wicked Powers. And there is something intriguing about this couple and how they tie in to the whole theme of love in these short stories. The rest of the couples all have - mostly - healthy relationships, so this one should be different.

Emma and Julian: I adore these two and I'm always happy for more Blackstairs, but we literally just had Secrets of Blackthorn Hall?? Maybe it's a flashback from when they were kids, because I would love that. Then again, they are a main couple and all of those are here.

Thomas and Alastair : Yes!!! Hopefully Zachary is there too. Thomastair rom-com?? Sign me the hell up!

Mark, Kieran and Cristina: Faerie politics + an amazing ship. Expected since the couple or throuple thing, but still thrilled!

Simon and Isabelle: Finally some Sizzy content!! Awesome! We haven't had an Izzy POV since what, City of Heavenly Fire?? I really hope it's that. And I want to see Simon recruiting or helping with the new Academy at Luke's farm!

Luke and Jocelyn: Okay, not a fan, even if I liked the scene in City of Glass where they got together. But I do love some Circle content, and the two people who love and are loved by Valentine most during the time they realize how far off the rails he's going? Interesting. I'm hoping there'll be a flash present with an announcement that Clary's getting a sibling. (And how angsty will it be if it's a girl with red hair and blue eyes like in Clary's This World Inverted vision??) (Though I do get if Jocelyn is too traumatized to have more kids).

I was hoping so much for Gabrily and Haline, but these choices definitely do not disappoint. Three and a half of my five favourite TSC couples is definitely not a bad result. The anticipation will (hopefully maybe) get me through entrance exams hell.

[edwinspaynes]

Oh I didnt realize before now that you really dont like jessa. I really prefer jessa over wessa. And I hope you dont take this the wrong way, I just find it interesting how we have so different opinions. It might be because I read all of tmi + lady midnight before tid. I actually find that tessa is more muted when shes with will than jem and that is one of my gripes with tlh though I loved seeing them with their children. And while I do agree that tessa is a bit different in modern times i think it has more to do with the fact that its been a 100 years than being with jem. And I really like how she wants to take time to just be a family after going so long without one. And I love how its really different from her family with will. I think if itd be more similar itd be boring.

Hey! I definitely take none of this the wrong way, don't worry. I also find it fascinating that two people can read the same thing and develop such wildly different opinions/interpretations. I'm firmly of the mindset that this diversity is what makes fandom unique and interesting so long as no one harasses each other (which you're not!)

So my thing with Modern!Tessa is that I actually do enjoy her scenes when she's not with Jem. Like, she's amazing with Magnus in RSoM, and she has some great scenes with various TMI characters, too. Also really adore the mentions of her hanging out and pulling pranks on her immortal friends - it's that impishness and humor and life that I feel like she's lost with Jem.

I also like that she has a family again a lot - I may dislike Jessa's dynamic, but if Will has to be gone I am happy that Tessa no longer has to be alone. Plus, choosing love over and over again is a testament to her character.

I will admit that I also generally like historical TSC way more than modern, so I have that bonus add-on bias here, too. But I like Tessa the least in historical content when she's with Jem, too.

If you don't mind me asking - sheer curiosity - what do you like about Tessa with Jem that you don't like about Tessa with Will? What do you perceive as muted? I'm certain I won't agree, but I am really curious and interested and will respect your opinion.

[vickchan2]

I have to agree with you there! It seems like much more thought is already put into The Wicked Power and The Last Hours is something to get over with. Especially when there are fans who only ask for Malec and Kitty content. I know we are in a dire situation where Tessa cannot talk about the past too much because of spoilers but I think spoilers can somehow still be avoided without contradictions being found in her attachment to Will and her children

I came to conclusion Cassie finds hard to write Tessa as a mother to Lucie and James and thats why she is avoiding it. It's disappointing because I am sure Tessa loves all of her kids equally, but Cassie unfortunately would rather treat her as a ghost or "stepmother" in James and Lucie life.

I don't want to be the bitter kind of person who compares Tessa relationships with her loved ones, because I love Herongraystairs with my whole soul and body, but I have to say it: when it comes to family interactions betwen parent and child, Cassie seems to favor writing Tessa as more of a mother to Kit and Mina. Though I love these tender and heart warming moments, I wish we could see these kind of interactions with Lucie and James as well.

This is no hate post, so dont come at me, alright? I am glad to see Jessa happiness, only the Angel knows how much they suffered to earn it.

But as fan, I am annoyed with the lack of interactions betwen Tessa and her older children, James and Lucie, the ones Jem says "were ripped from her" because she was forced to watch them grow old and die.

It makes NO sense that Tessa doesnt keep things from Lucie and James.

[amchara]

Baby Group - Jessa / Herongraystairs Family ficlet

Tessa, Jem and Kit all take turns taking Mina to the local baby group in Devon. Pure fluff (okay, tiny bit of angst in Tessa's section but it's mostly fluff!)

Tessa paused as she finished buckling Mina into her sling. The building in front of her was unassuming, a low white wood-sided structure, covered by a green roof. There were children’s handprints and rainbow decorations taped to the windows. She could feel Mina’s tiny, reassuring weight in front of her, as her daughter wiggled and let out a couple of happy baaa baa da’s as Tessa jiggled her, trying to weigh up whether she really wanted to go in.

‘Newton Abbey Surestart Centre’ read the colourful sign beside the wide path, leading up to sliding doors.

A couple of other women walked past her, chatting and pushing buggies that looked more like mini-cars, given all the bells and whistles attached. They didn’t pay any attention to her and Mina.

“First time?” A voice came from behind her. Tessa turned and saw a young, red-haired woman, who was smiling at her as she wrestled a chubby baby with similar hair into a smaller buggy.

“Yes,” Tessa said, and remembering her manners, gestured to herself and to a now-quiet Mina, who was taking it all in with wide, dark eyes. “I’m Tessa Carstairs and this is Mina.”

“Gemma Sampson and this is Charlee,” said the other woman cheerfully. “You have the right way of doing it,” she continued, pointing to Tessa’s sling. “I don’t know why I bother with all this baby shit,” she said, rolling her brown eyes and crinkling up her nose, as she pointed to her overflowing baby bag and packed buggy.

“I- uh, I tend to travel light,” Tessa said, but internally she cursed. Should she have brought more? Maybe she should go grab the extra nappy and wipes out of the backseat, just to show she was prepared? Mina was usually happy just observing the world, rather than being occupied by toys and Tessa was still breastfeeding her so they usually travelled with minimal supplies.

But Tessa had not done the baby thing in over a hundred years and she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She wondered again, if this had been the best idea- but Jem had suggested if they were settling in at Cirenworth long-term they should probably try to integrate themselves into the community. Especially as they no longer had the monumental task of finding the lost Herondale, and they wanted to encourage Kit to find his own friends. It would be best to take their own advice, Jem had suggested, a small laugh erupting from him as Tessa had asked if he was about to join the local cricket team or the small village choir. “The choir, probably-” Jem had said, winking at her. “But maybe the local woodworking shop too.”

Gemma slid around Tessa with her buggy and gave a friendly nod. “Come on, love- they only let us in for the hour and then they kick us out. You want to get your money’s worth.”

“Isn’t it free?” Tessa muttered under her breath but she followed Gemma in, giving her name and Mina’s to the bored teenager at the door.

“She’s gorgeous,” the health visitor - who Tessa had been told was also a nurse - looked admiringly at Mina. Tessa relaxed fractionally. “Thank you. She takes after her dad,” she said, the smile growing on her face. Mina gurgled curiously and reached out for the rattle that the woman was holding out. She shook it happily.

“Is she your first?” the nurse asked, casually.

Tessa froze. She took a deep breath.

“No. I had two other children. James and Lucie. They… they’re not around,” she said and hated how her voice shook faintly. Normally it didn’t sting this much, the thought of her precious James and bubbly Lucie. But in this homely, warm place with the babble of babies’ voices and happy, smiling parents watching them, it hit her unexpectedly.

Tessa could see the nurse’s eyes sharply assess Tessa, taking in her youthful face but also, Tessa hoped, her smart denim skirt, yellow flowered collared shirt and the image that Tessa wanted her to see. “I see,” she said but noting the look on Tessa’s face she didn’t ask any further questions. She wrote some scribbles down on her pad, smiling politely and told Tessa to enjoy the centre.

As she walked away, Tessa cast a small spell to dislodge the note, which dropped to the floor beside her and Mina. She read: ‘children? x2 possible dec. or child servs?’ and her stomach dropped as she crumpled it in her hand. She followed up and cast a quick memory spell on the woman to also make her forget the last two minutes of their conversation. Maybe this had been a mistake… she thought, and when she looked up again, she could see Gemma had settled beside her and Mina, Charlee shaking a plastic tambourine in Gemma’s arms..

“They’re old busybodies,” Gemma announced, jerking her head at the health visitor. Tessa smiled wryly. The woman was maybe thirty at most.

“But also- you don’t have to engage with them to use the centre,” she said frankly. “It’s not a requirement.” She looked directly at Tessa and her look softened. “I’m sorry about your children though- it must be tough to be a warlock and have to watch them grow old.”

Tessa thought she was good at schooling her face to remain neutral, after so many years but Gemma just let out a small laugh and she let her eyes flash amber briefly. And Tessa relaxed, realising Gemma was a werewolf.

“We have a small group of Downworlders here at baby group,” Gemma said and she pointed to a small group off to the side. “Mostly werewolves, a couple Sighted women and one half-nixie. But we’ve never had a warlock before,” she said, her voice hopeful.

“Sounds delightful,” Tessa said, watching as Gemma’s smile widened. She picked up Mina, following her to the group.

--

“That’s it, clever Mina-mine,” Jem cooed, as Mina peeked her head out from the small, fabric enclosed tube that he had procured from the far corner. She smiled up at him, her cheeks squishing up into tiny peaks as she crawled further out. She rolled onto her back and then began chewing on her hands, tired from all the effort. Jem was so proud of her.

He looked around and was surprised at the large group of women and children that had gathered around him and Mina. It had been nearly empty in the baby area when he and Mina had arrived at the children’s centre, with only a couple other mums and babies around, likely due to the heavy rain they had had that morning, Jem mused.

But more must have showed up as he was playing with Mina and he hadn’t realised. Then Jem blushed and suddenly understood, as they all kept glancing over to him. “C’mon, Mina- we’re hogging the equipment! We need to let the other babies have a turn. Let’s go play with some other toys,” he said, lifting her up into his arms and made to move to another section of the room.

“Oh no- that’s fine,” said one woman, bouncing her baby on her knee, smiling at Jem. “We don’t mind waiting our turn.”

“She can play with these.” Another woman waved a couple of colourful scarves at him.

“Or this.” Jem found a couple of jingly bell-trees thrust into his lap, and the dark-haired woman held out a couple more, smiling at him. “My baby is finished with them.”

“Oh- that’s very kind of you,” Jem said, awkwardly trying to balance them and Mina in his arms.

He caught sight of a familiar figure coming towards them, and he grinned, dropping the toys to the side. He held Mina up so she could see. “It’s Mama!”

Tessa smiled her lovely, radiant smile as she approached them. As if by magic, the other woman and babies melted away as she bent down to give Mina a kiss on her forehead and Jem a quick peck on the lips. “Hello, my two darlings!” she said, settling herself on the floor beside them. “Did you miss me?”

“Always,” Jem said.

--

“We’re full for the session,” the older woman in a rumpled sweater gave Kit a bored look and turned away, to continue to talk to her taller, younger colleague.

Kit blinked. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” the woman said dryly, bending her head down to write in a log.

“Fine,” Kit muttered. Mina babbled and Kit could swear that he could hear the disappointment in her tone. “It’s okay, Min-Min, we’ll do something better than stupid baby group,” he said, hefting her further up on his shoulder and prepared to leave.

But then suddenly she was overbalancing on him and Kit struggled to hold onto her as she surged forward.

“BA BA NA!” she shouted excitedly at the dark-skinned woman with long braids walking past. She paused and turned towards the noise and her smile was infectious as she took in Mina. “Mina Carstairs!”

Ten seconds later, they were through the doors, the older woman scowling as the director of the centre told her to let them in. “Don’t tell anyone but she’s one of my favourite babies,” the director told Kit conspiratorially.

“She’s one of my favourite babies too,” Kit said, stifling a smile. Mina was smiling contentedly, or almost smugly, Kit thought, in the woman’s arms.

“And of course, your parents are also brilliant,” the woman said, handing Mina back to him. “Say hello to them from Sonya.”

“I will,” Kit said, as they headed further into the centre.

He plopped her down on a couple of cushions and stretched out beside her, taking in the scene. Kit idly wondered if his dad had ever taken him to a centre like this when he was young, before immediately scoffing and dismissing the possibility.

It did look like baby heaven, he thought, as Mina started crawling over to a rainbow-coloured arch. He watched the other babies and parents around, noting that he was likely the youngest one there or… actually, maybe not, he thought, as he saw a nervous, thin girl in the corner, playing with one of the chubbiest babies he had ever seen.

“Stay away from that baby, Mins,” he said. “He looks like he eats other babies for breakfast.” He looked down.

“I swear we’ve gone over this - we don’t eat socks,” Kit told her, an exasperated but fond manner. He grabbed a tiny bag out of his pocket and shook it at her. “I have much tastier snacks here.” He watched as Mina took her purple socked-toes out of her mouth and gestured in a familiar way. Kit handed her a couple of tiny baby puffs.

“No snacks on the play floor,” said the same, grumpy monitor as she walked past.

Kit rolled his eyes but put the bag away.

Kit didn’t rise to the bait when five minutes later she told him that he was being too loud with the xylophone.

He gritted his teeth when she snatched away the blocks that he had been planning to get Mina, informing him that it was almost the end of session and she was starting to tidy up.

And during the group singing time at the end of the session, when she told him to stop mumbling the words to the stupid nursery rhymes, Kit decided it had gotten personal.

“Oh, sorry,” Kit gave an angelic smile as he stepped away from the woman. She scowled at him, and turned away to button her coat up, her purse swinging in the air, unzipped.

Kit waited until they were out of the centre before looking down at his spoils. Sweet, he thought. A Cadbury’s Crunchie bar and two Twirls.

He shifted Mina in his arms, to one shoulder and holding the chocolate bar in the other hand, ripped off the wrapper of the Crunchie with his teeth.

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad,” he told Mina, after swallowing several bites.

She smiled placidly and reached for the Crunchie. “Not yet- in a couple of years,” Kit said. But then he reconsidered, and let her have a short gum at the stub. She giggled and burrowed her chocolate-smeared face into his shirt.

And then they got on the bus back to the village, heading back to Cirenworth.

(I don't know who to tag in my Herongraystairs family fics? @dontmindmyshadowhunting @sandersgrey @foxglove-airmid maybe? This is definitely the start of Kit bringing Mina into the pickpocketing life

Let me know if anyone else wants to be added in!

Previous Herongraystairs family fics:

Days Like These (day at the beach)

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Hello, beautiful soul! It's been a hot minute since I've gushed over you and do I have some words for you!

Snowed In:

I love that it's technically enemies to lovers, but loki never hated her, he just didn't want to give someone he liked so much the chance to form a poor opinion of him. That was such a cool twist on the trope and the whole story itself flowed so nicely.

Gone Soft:

Super cute and sweet. The double attack on her back and stomach!!? ♡♡♡. Loki is such a goofy sweetheart in this one and it makes me swoon.

Let Me Sleep:

The sweetness. The softness. Reader's stubbornness!!! So. Much. Fluff!

Vulnerability:

I'm. So. Flustered.😳 I've never had to take breaks while reading a fic before, but here we are. Being tickled by someone who's primary goal is to hear your laugh precicely because you refuse to... Favorite trope. And you do it so beautifully.

Family Forged Between Relms:

Adore how much fun they were obviously having being reader's annoying older brothers. I think it was fun to see Loki getting into the role of older brother for a change and I appreciate that you made him the one to hover. And Thor's such a big teddy bear, how he was so intently doing research for it... what a sweetheart 🥺

Familiar - Part 10:

It’s confirmed. Familiar series is not getting stale. I adore this series and not a single chapter has let down.

To Have And To Hold:

How dare you. You made me cry. I don't think I've ever been so emotionally invested in a fic before, espesially not to the point of real tears. I don't cry easily. I am endlessly astounded by your talent. You wove every aspect of the story together so beautifully. The reader's struggle between desperately wanting love and being terrified of having it because of what she could lose or how she could hurt someone, then forcing her to confront that struggle by being involved in her friend's wedding, and that, in turn, giving Loki the chance to see part of her internal conflict and realize that she needs HELP!!!! AAAAHH! And the conclusion/solution that just Loki being Loki is more than enough to take care of her - mind stone enhancement and all. It was so tender and sweet!!

Also, 100 fics??! Oh my stars, Jessa! How can we be so blessed?? What did we do to deserve to experience your lovely gift??? Always, always, always thank you so much for what you do, Jessa!

- 🩰anon

Omg you wonderful human, this is so sweet 🥺🥺 Thank you for taking the time to send all these lovely complements 💚💚 I'm happy to continue sharing with all of you! 😊

[theasstour]

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.

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[bisexualoftheblade-old]

how many wips do you have? like what are they all, and not the number of wips in a fandom? what are all the names?

okay. fuck you. fuck you so much. fuck you.

i’m putting this under a read more cut no one else deserves to see this shit. a lot of these are requests, and for those i will just write out the request itself

Shadowhunters:

domestic polycule fluff with tem, jessa, and will because im not a coward

Supernatural

- hehe hoho i request destiel hehehe

- request 61/? cai cai cai cai i need you to rewrite the destiel scene but yk. GOOD. not like i'm in the know about the spn fandom or anything, it's been years for me. but DO IT

Bright Sessions

- caleb/adam grisha AU

- mark bryant vs. united states aka sue the AM

- caleb/adam college fluff

Umbrella Acaademy

- request 31/? i want a ben and klaus drabble please spare me some brotherly bickering

- AND SO BEGINS NIGHT 4 with request 13/? oooh oooh can i get a raymond and allison playlist??? i think their vibes together would SLAP

- hi there night 2 is technically morning 3 but who's counting not me anyway request 5/? can i get a ben moodboard? gotta rep my tua bb

Percy Jackson

- request 9/? can i get a percabeth moodboard or quote edit?? like god they're the og couple goals take me back to high school cai

- For the 100 follower things :D Jercy getting caught in the rain

- request 29/? a drabble about literally anything to do with pjo. i’ll be happy with anyone and anything i’m love these children

- *somersaults in like I’m a real fancy acrobat* hello ello ello may I request some camp half blood chaos possible involving *does a flip* ✨side characters✨ <3

Penumbra Podcast 

- request 52/? drabble about the penumbra podcast. this is for ren bc ren likes it and i don't actually know anything about it. juno? i think? that's the one ren likes. write it for ren

- Tpp ghost hunting / buzzfeed unsolved au

- sad juno smut

- final resting place fic go brrrr

Marvel

- request 6/? i'm going to my roots y'all can i get a spider-man playlist? if not a playlist then i'd honestly be happy with literally anything involving spider-man

- request 15/? i'm going crazy this is recorded evidence of me actually losing it ANYWAY can i get a quote edit for something from iron man? literally anything that man says is gold so cai's choice :D he deserved better in endgame i'm still bitter

- request 42/? do another spidey thing that differs from the other spidey thing

- request 73/? you have Opinions. rant about infinity way and/or endgame. go.

- request 74/? quote edit for deadpool!!

- spideytorch relationship character study

- peter parker as a tired grad student monitoring the young avengers (send help)

Six of Crows

- okay listen i wasn't going to request anything bc i worry about you but also? if you want to/have the time hit me with a playlist for our girl nina zenik

- request 43/? fuckin give me the ending anya should have had. she is alive and with her new son and having a great time

- request 45/? inej moodboard?

- request 47/? will you make literally any meme of your choosing for six of crows?

- request 48/? write a drabble for kaz, my favorite bastard

- okay so i don't actually like nina or mattias that much but i still wanna hear about your thoughts (and also see if you'll change my mind)

- kaz brekker turning 18 fic. birthday party, everyone singing, whole shebang. i need it stat

- religious trauma fic aka i started shipping kaz/alina/inej and i can’t stop

- kaz trauma soup (he has D.I.D. and you can’t prove me wrong)

- my two redacted fics for @grishaversebigbang​

- wesper fake dating

- six of crows bright sessions crossover: everyone gets therapy

TMA

- uhh... s1 gang having a nice time? melanie getting to have some Pride™️? some "fun" horror thing?

- request 7/? spare steph and jason bonding? please sir? spare some for a humble child such as myself?

- okay so this was meant for night 3 but i had midterm shit SO this is honorary night 3 let's DO THIS request 8/? i want a moodboard of extremely out of context magnus archives shit like i mean confuse the FUCK out of me i don't go here i know Nothing about it

- request 11/? OKAY so i need tim stoker meeting tim drake now i need my timmy to meet your tim plus i want to see character differences no i'm not trying to create a tim stoker in my head so i can read a's fic while NOT thinking of tim drake whaaaaaat you're crazy

- request 18(i think)/? i need a quote edit of every time within the first like. 15 eps of tam where jon is like “sounds fake but go off” thank u bb

- request 40/? i challenge you to write a tma drabble based only on the episodes i've heard. i'm currently halfway through episode 23

- Jon being lovingly bullied into taking a break. I'm aware this has been written a million times but it is one of my favorite things.

- spiral!sasha AU

- extinction martin go brrrrr

- high school era timsasha. they've both been friends for years, and everyone always asks when they will be a couple. they decide to fake date, to prove everyone wrong and show what a bad couple they would be. turns out that's a bit trickier than they thought

- after sasha comes back, tim is broken. he can't let go, scared that if he looks away for even a minute he'll lose her again. sasha suggests shibari as a way for him to give up control

- sasha pov mag 19 au, sacrificing herself to save the others, knows that if she gives herself up to the not!them it will let the others live

- this is the "tim finds a polaroid of sasha" trope

- early archives days,, long nights in research,,, clothes sharing,, somft. late nights and falling asleep at their desks warm and safe in the other's presence

- two parts: timsasha as kids, each picking a constellation that is "theirs". just soft kid antics. tim at sasha's grave glancing up to see their constellations

- continuing your job’s a joke (you’re broke)

DC Comics

- TIMSTEPH HADESTOWN AU,,,

- my redacted fic for @batfam-big-bang​

- request for you to get a decent amount of sleep? serious answer, dickkori, SAL's Venus

- request 4/? timsteph morning after 👀 mayhaps?

- a concept: nonbinary stephanie brown

- teehee hi mom, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but can i request damian angst for your accomplishments 100 followers?

- hi you can ignore my first request if you want, or you can ignore this one. but bls possibly write some bikini ra’s? -the bikini bitch

- request 27/? jay is asking through me for a jondami playlist but tbh i also want it so win win yk?

- "I don't know how to help you but I can help you find someone who does" with bruce and jason? im just craving bruce being a good day to jason for once

- “I am putting you in time out because you need to understand the consequences of your actions.” with steph and jason as dumbass disaster bi best friends pretty please?

- request 32/? timsteph patrol date!!!

- request 33/? timsteph *gala* date? mayhaps??

- request 37/? tim drake drabble but make it Edgy cai

- request 39/? drabble of a prank war between tim and damian

- joyfire cuddly fluff please? or like just any outlaw fluff if joyfire isnt your thing (feel free to add every member of the outlaws, dont feel like u gotta stick with jason, kori, roy i love them all)

- barbara and robin! jason fluff? bonding over books or something?

- request 62/? i need a drabble about the chaotic trio jason, tim, and steph i'm love them ty

- request 63/? batfam x mcu crossover. batfam meets ironfam. give me ALL the cliches. ALL OF THEM

- request 64/? young justice x young avengers - jay cuz idk SHIT about the young avengers

- request 66/? jondami moodboard pls and ty

- request 67/? timsteph moodboard!!!!!!

- request 69/? HEHEHE kinky 😏 i would v much like a timsteph drabble of the almost first time. does that make sense? like i don't want you to go all the way NSFW cuz i know that's against the rules and i'm a rule follower. but like they *almost* go all the way. this could be fade to black or some shit i don't care just make it a lil steamy and have Fun

- i request damian angst! all of it

- hmm... maybe i request? jondami?

- mayhaps,,,,some batfam,,,,,committing crimes? ily be gay do crime <3 - lu

- How about a ficlet with Steph and Cass?

Found Family Bingo Prompts

- no powers au

- tunnel

- first day

- join the club

- hurt/comfort

- experiment

- playing favorites

- hold on

- possession

- 10 o’clock

- singing

- road

- snitch

- curfew

- timer

- fantasy au

- zombie au

- dreams

- campfire

- are you okay

- movie night

- games

- scared

Miscellaneous

- a request: Write A Drabble, Coward

- is it too late to request a moodboard for me?

- request 20/? i’m going off book because i’m in a Chaotic Mood™️ can you just absolutely vibe check me like go off cai demolish me

- request 21/? i formally request that you pick a favorite cai. i don’t care what that favorite pertains to, just pick a favorite something

- request 23/? roast me

- request 24/? can i have a buzzfeed unsolved spoopy playlist but spoiler alert it’s not spoopy bc shane doesn’t believe does this make sense it has been a Day™️

- request 25/50 i want a jake and amy fic make it Soft cai i’m love them b99 is so good

- request 28/? i know nothing about the lord of the rings so make something that will confuse the shit out of me

- request 34/? malvie and jaylos moodboards 😈

- request 35/? a moodboard for the bbb mods!! perceive all of us!!!

- request 36/? moodboard for the tua mods too???? mayhaps??

- request 41/? doctor WHO? idk but i want a drabble of him and the one character i know from doctor who which is rose

- request 46/? make an alignment meme with our group, have fun!!!

- request 49/? i want you to kin assign me a character from every fandom you can/want to. go feral

- request 50!!!!/? this is a special request. the most special request. can you make a bastards tbh playlist? i want our vibes encapsulated. i want us in music form. i want to hear those songs and be like "that's me and cai" and smile.

- requests 51/? i know jack shit about good omens. explain it to me in the most confusing way possible. make me know less by the end than i know now

- request 53/? can you write a mel aesthetic? i'm Curious

- request 54/? give me a list of book recs cai i want some good book recs pls

- request 56/? edit a picture of US together too

- request 58/? oooh can i have a disney edit? like. hm. i just really love disney and i want anything to do with disney. like a quote or an aesthetic or an aesthetic edit i just want disney.

- request 59/? i would v much like a recipe for carbonara. i've never had it but it sounds fucking delicious

- request 60/? ooh hey can i get a makeup tutorial? i know you like makeup, i'm shit at doing makeup. teach me

- request 65/? i need the most emo playlist you can make that vibes with dear evan hansen thank you

- request 68/? i want a superwholock moodboard. this can be serious, with the actual fandoms in mind, or literally what the era felt like. the insanity. the horror.

- request 70/? ooh ooh ooh do you have a good bread recipe?? i wanna get that bread

- request 71/? i want a playlist with the vibes of summoning a demon. please don't ask questions. i don't have answers. and if i do, no i don't.

- For the requests, how about writing something based on a friend?

- request 75/? MMMM i want literally anything to do with natasha, pierre, and the great comet of 1812

- request 76/? i want some healthy recipes. help a girl out

- a feral bbb quote or two?

- you perceive my plant but now I dare thee to perceive mine own visage

- okay this is a two for one request. 1. you did the bee movie script so now we need a shrek two script edit 2. sleep please

- Pansexual mb for my lil queer soul?

- my (probably) final request is just for you to ramble about something, i don't really care what

- HI ILY CONGRATS AS WELL CAUSE IM LATE BUT CONGRATS. could i request a pirates of the caribbean (or just pirates) or whatever you what to do, free range.

- mood board for the beluga whales who got brought to the animal sanctuary in Iceland please?

- 100 follower request: Moodboard for my stuffed cow Oaky?

[glassbxttless]

“You don’t need to cover up the hickeys.” and “C’mere, you can sit on my lap until i’m done working.” with McTavish

Okay so there’s no smut in this one— I just have a soft spot for Will with babies. Shamelessly inspired by @feed-the-rats. I don’t have a McTavish tag list yet, so if anyone wants on it, just click the link up in the masterlist!

William McTavish x Reader

Word Count: 1,039

Warnings: pregnancy

You’re sitting at your vanity, desperately trying to cover the hickeys you’d been sporting for the last day and a half before William’s ex-wife brought Miles over. It was the first time you’d actually meet her. Every other time it’s just little waves behind the windshield of William’s car as he speaks to her outside.

But today, you’ve actually have dinner in the oven and for Miles’ sake you and Will both are going to have to sit through it and bite your tongues. “You don’t need to cover those up.” Will says as he steps out of the bathroom, buttoning his shirt up quietly and tucking it into his pants.

“I’m not going to sit with these on full display in front of your child’s mother.” You mumble, failing to cover the bruising with a matching concealer and foundation. “She’ll hate me forever.”

“I think it’s pretty hot.” He says and shrugs a little bit, moving behind you to rub your shoulders. “My ex-wife gets to see just how much I love loving you up.” He presses a kiss against your head.

“Think she’ll figure that out when we tell Miles I’m pregnant… or maybe when we just pop her out.” You say quietly and huff quietly, still trying to cover the hickies before he shakes his head— smiling— and wanders off to the kitchen.

Dinner is quiet. It’s a little too quiet. Leigh-Anna, William’s ex-wife, is sitting across from the two of you with Miles at her side. You’ve gotten away with wearing baggy sweaters and joggers your entire pregnancy so far. Tonight was the night you’d tell Miles. And William would have to tell Leigh.

You’re fidgeting with the string of your joggers in one hand, surprisingly small for twenty-three weeks. But as you were worried about Leigh-Anna’s eyes dropping to your belly, they stayed looking over your neck. The marks Will had left very present after he finally convinced you not to cover them. “Billy? Can we talk?” She speaks up. And your blood about boils as William stands, nodding his head towards the hall.

He’s never liked that nickname. He told you that once at the beginning of your relationship and it’s been a tidbit that’s clung into your brain for dear life. And you sit with Miles quietly. He eats his chicken nuggets and you just smile. “It’s still really weird.” He says after a bit.

“What is, kiddo?” You take a bite of your pasta and smile.

“That you’re dating my dad… he’s like… old.” He shrugs as he dips a nugget into a bit of ketchup.

“He’s not that old.” You chuckle softly. “49 is still pretty young, kid.” You shrug and look at your plate for a moment. “And your dad is a really nice guy.”

“My mom says you just want money.” He shrugs again and you raise an eyebrow, frowning at that response. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You know that’s not true, right?” You ask him and he plays with his food for a moment before he nods. “I love your dad very much. He’s very sweet. Very kind.” You shrug. “He also loves you a whole bunch too, you know that?” And Miles nods again.

“Yeah, mom says that too.” He shrugs. “That dad really likes kids… but I don’t get to see him much.”

“Well… he talks about you all the time, if that helps.” You say to him, a firm hand pressed under your belly to help alleviate the sharp kicks to your insides. And when you see William and Leigh-Anna re-enter the room, she looks flushed and embarrassed.

“I’ll pick him up Monday from school. Make sure he’s there on time.” She says to William, kisses Miles on the head, and makes her way out the door. William rubs his neck a bit.

“She said congratulations.” He says softly as he sits down next to you to finish your dinner together.

Telling Miles about his sister went as smoothly as expected when telling an 11 year old he’s going to be a brother. He’s confused and sorta happy, but sad to give up his only child title. He enjoyed being the center of Will’s attention. And after Miles gets into bed, William is tucked away in the kitchen’s breakfast nook, working from his laptop quietly. When he sees you clamber into the kitchen, holding your lower back he smiles a bit. “You okay?”

“Yeah… just a little tired.” You say softly as you grab a bottle of water.

“C’mere. You can sit on my lap until I’m done working and then we’ll go to bed together. Okay?” He says and gives his lap a pat gently. And you take him up on the offer, planting yourself right on his lap. You feel one of his arms wrap around you and rub your belly gently. “How’s little Jessa doing?” It’s comforting to you to just sit on his thighs and feels his body heat radiating into yours. Keeps you warm.

“She’s fine, honey.” You say quietly, rubbing at your eyes. You’ve had a long day. And you watch William work for about an hour, drinking your water before your eyes start to droop too much. “Goin’ to bed.” You mumble.

“I’m coming. Right behind you.” He says quietly as he helps you stand. He shuts his laptop down and plugs it into the charger before he’s walking down the hall with you. He peeks into Miles' room to check on him as you pass and you shake your head a bit, a hand on your belly.

He really was such a great dad with him. It has you more than excited to see him with your daughter. And when you both crawl into bed, he’s got a protective arm around you, hand tucked under the side of your growing belly. He pulls the blankets over you and yawns, his glasses placed on the side table and you’re trying to sleep with his light snoring in your ear. You’re more than lucky to have Will in your life. He’s your other half. Keeps you sane. And you’re so lucky to have a family with him. And Miles might eventually stop thinking it’s weird.

[sh-rare-pair-exchange]

The Winner Takes It All

For @jesssssah For Jessa - I hope you'll like what I did with your prompts! It was a challenge but I had so much fun writing this, so I really hope you'll have fun reading it too!

Summary: Jace and Magnus enter a cooking reality TV show with the sole focus on winning. Both of them have their very own reason for wanting to do so. Jace needs the money to start his own business, Magnus needs something to fill the emptiness in his life. Amidst their contenders, and nearly against their will, they find something even more precious than the prize money and the pretty golden trophy that await the winner. A Jagnus Cooking Show AU

Read on ao3

Jace has to admit he’s a little nervous. He never fathomed to be starring in a TV Show, but here he is. Contestant in Boss Chef, the latest cooking show the US adapted from the UK. He has never really liked to watch reality TV, he simply doesn’t see the point in watching others do ordinary things, knowing it’s partially scripted anyway. He doesn’t see much point in watching TV in general.

Mostly TV only shows a world he’s never able to have anyway. Full of glamor, friends, and family he doesn’t have nor is likely to get. Books, somehow, are different. Books are a window into a better world where he can picture himself , maybe because the protagonists of books seem vaguer with no pre-set physics. And there are more internal thoughts he can relate to. Maybe it’s only because he’s used to reading books from an early age on, as opposed to watching TV, as they didn’t possess one in his early childhood.

Jace grew up remote and lonely, son to a single father who had very strict ideas of how a child should be brought up. Or how that child had to behave. He never met his mother, he only knows that she ran off with his father’s best friend, taking her unborn daughter with her but leaving her already born toddler, him, behind. He learned soon that it was best to not ask any questions about her, just as he learned that it was best to obey his father and make him happy.

His father didn’t believe in toys or school, he found school taught the wrong things and toys only distracted a child. He believed in a classical education like playing the piano and being fluent in Latin and ancient Greek. He believed in reading the classics, and those were the books Jace grew up with and came to like. A harsh contrast to today’s reality TV.

At least his father believed in teaching his son to survive, and thus how to cook. Over the years, even after his father’s sudden death and after he got sucked into the US foster system, Jace learned to perfect this skill. He loves to experiment with what he has, add a new spice here, a new, unexpected ingredient there, and create something new from scratch with simple means.  It’s the type of cooking he enjoys the most. He’s not the one for chichi, gold on meat or anything alike. He likes it simple but with a twist. He still likes to use the plain, basic ingredients he was used to from his childhood, where they were more or less self-supporters.

But his love for cooking is also the reason why he’s nervous now. Why he is the contestant of a cooking reality show. Though the world tried its best to crush his dreams from early on, Jace never stopped dreaming. And over the time, as he came into his early twenties, he realized that his dream is to cook. Not only for himself, but for others. At the same time, he  realized that he’s not born to cook in a kitchen, under a chef with the pressure to abide to a stupid pecking order.

Though his father tried his best to make him obedient to rules, in the end it had the opposite effect. Jace loves to break rules, and that’s not a good thing in a kitchen that is usually ruled by a chef with an iron fist. Jace was yelled at so many times as a child, he’s done being yelled at for his entire life. And that’s why he needs money to start his own business. That’s why he needs to participate in the damn cooking show. That’s why he needs to win. 250.000 US dollars, the winning prize, would help him make that dream come true.

As soon as Jace sees the cameras and the moderator turn to him, Jace swallows down his nervousness and plasters a cocky smile on his face. A smile he knows works, as he tried it countless times in bars or clubs, and it always brought him the desired result. The favor of a girl or boy, a dance, a drink, or a bed for the night to forget his loneliness. He knows how he looks and how to play it. And he also knows how important in reality shows that is. Looks. A charming attitude. Or a tragic backstory. But he’s determined to keep his past exactly there, in the past. He doesn’t have the slightest wish to drag it out in the open and have it examined by a whole country. Therefore, he will give them the next best thing.

He leans a little forward to answer the moderator’s question, making sure to make eye contact, adding a suggestive wink at the end of his turn. He’s pleased when he sees the faint blush on the man’s face, realizing that his charm also works in the light of a camera. He’s also pleased that he didn’t stumble over his words like some of the other contestants did. He did well, and he knows it. The audience will love or hate him and his cockiness, but he doesn’t mind either. Strong emotions are good, they’ll keep him in the show. This and his skills of course. Skills he doesn’t doubt for a second.

The moderator moves on to interview the next person, a little mean appearing man named Victor Aldertree who seems to be in his early forties. Jace concedes that Victor hasn’t much going for him besides his glare and his beard, therefore he takes in the other participants. Of course it’s not easy to judge from the few moments they already spent together, but Jace isn’t afraid of them. Beside Mean Victor, there’s a tiny red-head who tried to make doe-eyes towards him from the start, doe-eyes that he equally ignored from the start. There's a boy who doesn’t look older than fifteen but claims to be in his late twenties and doesn’t manage to complete one sentence without blushing. Andrew something, if Jace is not mistaken. There are some others Jace can’t remember, but he figures they’re all no match to him, except one. There’s also Magnus Bane. Who definitely is someone to put gold on meat, just for the looks.

Begrudgingly, Jace has to admit that Magnus looks dazzling. He wears clothes that could and probably would look ridiculous on most people, but look striking on him. Leather pants that are too tight, but Magnus has the legs to wear them. A jacket with more buckles than Jace’s biker boots, which oddly matches the glittery, golden shirt that is either made of silk or cheap polyester, but given the rest of Magnus’ aura, Jace assumes it’s real silk.

Magnus styled his hair in small spikes and put so much glitter on his cheeks and eyes that Jace wonders if little girls have already complained about a glitter shortage. But the glitter does make his eyes spark more intensely, and it does put emphasis on his high cheekbones, the firmly set jaw, not to mention his plush lips. All totally irrelevant things. What is a little less irrelevant, is the outspoken confidence Magnus wears alongside all the glitter and buckles. It’s the sort of confidence Jace experienced to be there because there’s something to back it up. If Jace needed to say who’s most likely to win this show, it’d be Magnus. After him, of course.

A laugh peals from Magnus’ lips. He’s relaxed, enjoying the audience he’s getting. He knows he looks awesome, and he knows he has the moderator wrapped around his little finger. He’s been looking forward to the first interviews of all contestants since the day he got the admission to the show. And now he’s here, he sure as hell will sparkle and shine.

He doesn’t necessarily need the money he’ll win at the end of the show. He inherited quite a lot when his biological father died a couple of years back. A father he met only briefly, as he was raised by another man and his mother. Then his mother took her life and his stepfather put all the blame on him. That’s when his path briefly crossed the one of his biological father, Asmodeus, but after a period of time in which Magnus was flattered by his father’s wealth and power, Magnus discovered that Asmodeus was not a good man. So he fled to never look back.

He’d been rather surprised when an administrator contacted him and informed him about his father’s death, and that he was the sole heir of Asmodeus’ private fortune as well as Asmodeus’ Industries, a huge construct of different businesses and firms. As Magnus had and has no idea how to run such a company, he hired people he can trust to do that for him. A wise decision. And it left him with enough money to make every dream he ever had come true.

But in the end, it also left him a little bored. And weary of other people’s intentions. He can have everything money can buy, and that attracted people who were just there for that. He gave away his heart and got it back broken, when he found his now-ex in bed with another man. Friends were only friends as long as he gave. Therefore he learned to build a wall around his heart to make the betrayal of all sorts bearable.

And it worked. But it’s also lef him lonely and yearning for something, that’s why he’s here. He loves the thrill the cameras provide, he loves the adrenaline that cooking against others and being judged by real pros will bring. And he loves winning, he always did. Anything else is out of the question for him.

The other contestants don’t seem a threat to him. They’re too dull, too nervous, or too unskilled, or a combination of them, to be a threat. All but one. Jace Wayland, or was it Herondale? He frankly can’t remember, but the first name stuck. It’s a ridiculous name, if it even is a real name. Probably a nickname of some kind.

Jace is wearing biker boots, faded washed-out jeans with cuts, a simple white tee, and a used biker jacket. An outfit absolutely not suitable for a television show, if it didn’t emphasize his thigh muscles and his firm ass in a rather favorable manner. Not to speak of his biceps and delicate collar bones. Or to mention that ridiculous tattoo gracing his neck. But what annoys Magnus for real is the cocky smile the blond wears with a lot of bravado and confidence. It’s that kind of smile Magnus really wants to… cook off his face, Magnus reins himself and his unhelpful mind that tries to escape towards the gutter sternly in. Definitely cook off his face, and not another four letter word.

Today is the first real cooking test for the participants. The so-called skill test, which means they need to perform a certain cooking task to perfection. If they fail, it’s the first and the last test for them. It’s not something Jace is particularly looking forward to, he likes the creative part of cooking rather than following a certain procedure by the books, but he also doesn’t mind.

He hasn’t enjoyed a formal education, but he knows his stuff. When he hears what he has to do, a victorious smile spreads over his face. He has to grill a one-inch porterhouse steak to medium-rare, which seems a rather basic task but isn’t that easy in reality.

But it’s a task he has done from early childhood on, his father had made sure to hammer the lecture about the different states of grilling a steak home by punishing him each time he failed to master one. And today won’t be a day to fail. Today, he’ll excel.

Jace prepares carefully the items he needs. The meat is of a high quality, but he didn’t expect otherwise. The first thing he does is to retrieve the steak from the fridge and place it on his cooking station. Meat doesn’t like to be put onto a hot grill when still cold, something Jace can oddly relate to. The meat needs time to warm up.

Jace takes a brief second to look around. He has to admit that the huge kitchen area which is overlooked by a balcony and several cameras so that the audience behind the screens won’t miss a thing is equipped nicely. Each contestant has their own dedicated cooking station with pans, pots, knives, and everything a cook’s heart desires. The pantry is well stocked and, depending on the challenge, accessible for everyone, as is the fridge. The huge dining area is used to serve the dishes to the judges when it comes to surviving another round.

The only thing which is really tricky is that he’s not used to the grill he has to use. How quickly it heats up, how well it holds the temperature, those kinds of things. But he’ll manage. When he places the meat on the grill, he doesn’t look on a watch. He doesn’t need a thermometer. He has a good gut feeling of these things and relies on it rather than on gadgets.

When the sides are well browned, and the top and bottom are caramelized to a mouth-watering dark brown color, Jace checks the surface. He nods satisfied when it gives a little towards the middle, springing back quickly. His steak is ready. Perfectly medium rare.

When the judges cut the steak, he’s proven right. The meat is of the desired pink color with just a hint of red. And it’s warm through the middle, as the judge states pleased. Jace passes with flying colors. Mean Victor, the annoying redhead, Blushing Andrew and of course Magnus Bane pass too, but two contestants are sent home for poor performance (or complete lack of personality, or both). But Jace cannot bring himself to fake pity for them or claim that he’s sad that they go. He never understands why people do that. They’re here to be the last, why would he mourn the loss of his rivals? He’s glad for everyone who goes. His stand might lose him points with the audience, but Jace isn’t here to make new friends.

When the surviving contestants gather to hear the new task, Jace is curious to know what it is. He’s watched the UK version of the show for reference, and there were some tasks that recurred, but often each season also had a special one. He really hopes that the mystery box, where each of them have to cook a meal from a box with predefined ingredients, will happen here too. It’s one of the tasks he’s really looking forward to. It really proves who can cook and doesn’t need to rely on fancy specials to make a good impression.

When the judge announces what their next task is, Jace has to quickly plaster his smile back on his face. It’s one the UK version has never featured so far, and Jace really hates his fortune that the US now thinks it’s a great idea to start with it. It’s a team challenge where they are gathered into several groups who have to take over a pop-up restaurant. They have to replace the normal staff working there and create dinner for the guests. The guests are allowed to vote, and the team that performs worst is sent home.

It’s not that Jace doesn’t like teamwork. In fact, he doesn’t mind teamwork. As long as the team does what he says, which is admittedly not often the case. And that’s the part Jace doesn’t like about teamwork.

His smile falters a second time when he hears with whom he’s teamed up with. Mean Victor and the redhead. Maybe at least the redhead will listen to him, as she seems so keen to make an impression on him and get to know him. But something tells him she’ll think she knows everything better. Maybe he needs to start calling her by her name, Clarissa. Maybe.

As quickly as Jace can, Jace escapes to the hotel all contestants are staying in. They are caged in one hotel to prevent them from getting side-tracked and can focus on the show, at least it’s what the producing company told them. Jace suspects it’s more to stir up drama when the participants see each other constantly. At least they got their own rooms and don’t have to share a youth hostel like he’s seen in one of the ridiculous topmodel shows every single country seems to have.

Jace doesn’t smoke often, but sometimes he does. It soothes his nerves and makes him pleasantly dizzy. He leans against the wall outside of the hotel, in the smoking corner the hotel generously provides for its guests. The cigarette glows reddish when he lights it, and it’s a relaxing sight. Not so relaxing is the voice that interrupts the quietness of his thoughts.

“Smoking isn’t good for your taste buds.” Magnus steps closer, deliberately choosing to lean against the wall next to Jace. Over the few days since the production started, he had to admit that he finds the blond increasingly interesting.

“Do tell,” Jace replies, flipping the ashes from his cigarette. “Want one?” he asks, already fishing his crumbled package out of his pocket.

Magnus eyes the package suspiciously, before shaking his head. He reaches for a small, golden etui inside his fancy jacket that has again more buckles than Jace ever thought possible of being attached to a jacket. Red rubies blink briefly in the light of his own cigarette when Magnus opens the etui to take one cigarette out.

If it were anyone but Magnus, Jace would think the gold and the rubies are fake. With Magnus, he’s not so sure. It’s probably real. Jace huffs when Magnus produces an equally golden lighter out of his pocket to light his cigarette. He even spots a red ruby on the lighter.

“Snob,” Jace mutters, which makes Magnus pause for a second.

“Fair point,” he concedes, “but life’s too short to spend with ugly things. Apropos ugly, happy with the teammates?”

Jace just snorts. “If I wanted to torture the guests at the pop-up restaurant, I probably would be. Victor always looks like he’s going to stab someone soon, and that he’ll enjoy every second of it. And Clarissa…”

“Looks like she wants to eat you alive. I have noticed. Not your type?” Magnus asks in sympathy.

“Nope. Not at all. What about you?”

“Also not my type,” Magnus says which earns him another snort. “I’ve got Andrew. Always looks like he can’t find his own ass with both hands and an atlas.”

Jace huffs out a laugh, nearly choking on the smoke. “That’s the most accurate description of him I’ve heard so far. And the other?”

Magnus shrugs, making a vague motion with his hands. “Sebastian and then something French sounding. Seems like he’s a contestant in a lookalike for you.”

Jace laughs outright now. “Well, he’s not winning this one. I look way better.”

“That you do,” Magnus says with a wink, pleased when he sees a faint pink flush covering Jace’s cheeks at the compliment. “Well, he’s also not winning any cooking contests. But he’ll survive the next round. If he does what I say.”

And something in Magnus’ voice tells Jace Magnus will make sure of it.

“ Teamwork,” Jace mutters in a way that sounds a lot like an insult.

“I don’t mind teamwork,” Magnus says with a chuckle, “as long as everyone does what I say.”

They both look at each, both grinning when they see mischief and agreement dancing in the other’s eyes. Despite Jace’s best efforts not to, he realizes that he starts to like Magnus.

Later that day

Magnus rubs tiredly over his face while waiting for the elevator to bring him to his room. The team challenge had been exhausting, just as he’d expected. And they had ended up nearly getting kicked out of the show, something that still stings. And even though he thought their guests were particularly hard to please, they had a point in their criticism. They hadn’t worked well as a team. They could have done better. If the others had listened. Which they only had in the end, but at least not too late - the dessert they served, a chocolate peanut butter bar with vanilla ice cream, had saved them.

And it’s done now. They survived, they move on, and on his own Magnus is sure he’ll have no problems acing the next tasks thrown at him. But for now he’s glad when he’s back in his room and can huddle up under his comfy blanket and forget for a moment that he needs to return into a kitchen and be his usual dazzling self in about eight hours.

He doesn’t need to look around to know who’s approaching, the confident steps and the swagger that evaporates from every clang of heels tell him enough. Jace. Of course he and his team excelled in the task and got rated with the highest marks of the round. Though Magnus is rather sure the good perception had a lot to do with Victor wielding some knives in front of the guests, radiating stabbing energy to everyone who dared to voice criticism, as much as it had with a good performance.

“Heard you all had trouble finding it,” Jace says with a smug smile before he edges past Magnus to enter the elevator that just arrived with a loud ping first.

“Finding what?” Magnus asks gruffly. He steps in after Jace, who leans casually against the mirror, a foot rested comfortably against it, his hair ruffled, a spark in his eyes, and Magnus really doesn’t want to start thinking about that smile he carries.

“Finding your asses.” Jace grins at him innocently, the innocence contradicted by the suggestively raised eyebrow and the words he says next. “Maybe you’ll need a hand next time?”

Magnus just glares at him, too tired to come up with a witty comeback, a fact that annoys him definitely more than the teasing itself. “I think that’s you,” is all he says when the elevator comes to a stop at the fifth floor with a ping.

“I thought we were all accommodated on the same floor?” Jace asks somewhat perplexed when Magnus doesn’t move to step out himself.

“I guess only the ones who’ll they suspect to leave early,” Magnus mutters his weak and late response to Jace’s teasing, pressing the button to the seventh floor where the suites are located. A suite he paid for himself, of course. Thankfully the door closes quickly, but not quickly enough so that he doesn’t hear Jace’s next words that sound a lot like snobbish bastard.

Magnus sighs, allowing himself a small, pleased smile. He doesn’t know why, but he enjoys riling Jace up a little. And he even enjoys it when Jace does the same to him. Maybe this part even a little more, as it’s been a long time since anyone dared to challenge him, and even longer since he allowed it to happen.

Jace is still buzzing with the win yesterday. He knows it doesn’t have an effect on how things will unfold in the future, but it has been an amazing feeling to come in first place. He had to admit that his heart had stopped a moment when he had realized how badly Magnus had fared, but it had started beating again when Magnus’ team was saved in the last minute by the dessert they dished out. All in all, yesterday couldn’t have gone better. He doesn’t want Magnus to be forced out too soon, it’s too much fun to see him scowl when he wins. And the second to last place might teach him a little humbleness, though Jace doubts it.

Jace stands at his cooking station, bouncing up and down on the balls of his foot. He hates these minutes where he has to wait until the judges finally explain the task of the day. Of course it’s deliberately done to keep them all on edge. The moderators are masters in dragging the inevitable out as long as they can, putting fingers in the wounds of the people having not performed well the last few days, trying to hype the people who did to make them reckless. But this doesn’t work with Jace. He’s buzzing, but he’s also contained. He knows how to focus.

“I am sure you are all curious to know what your next task will be.” Finally the judge of the day takes over.

“You bet we do,” Jace mutters very quietly, but the smirk he gets from Magnus, who occupies the cooking station two places apart from him, tells Jace that he might have not been quiet enough.

At least the judge hasn’t heard it, or at least he pretends he hasn’t. “Your next task,” the judge pauses to take a deep breath, “ is the mystery box! It means you will all get a box with ingredients, and you have an hour to create something with them! We want a two-course-meal, so you can decide if you do a starter and a main dish, or a main dish and dessert. The hour starts now!” The judge claps excitedly in his hands.

Excitement Jace can share. He hoped that the mystery box would be part of the American version too. He’s good at coming up with tasty meals from the things he gets, it’s the way he learned to cook. He never dared to demand anything special from his father, so he always made do with what his father bought, or their garden provided.

Jace takes a moment to assess what the mystery box the assistant placed on his kitchen counter has to offer. There’s no meat in it, but that doesn’t particularly bother Jace. He’s not of the opinion that every main dish has to contain meat.

There’s cauliflower in the box, pomegranate, red onions, sesame paste, several seeds, mint leaves, cashews. Spices and things like olive oil they are allowed to take from the pantry. Jace stares a moment longer at the ingredients as slowly a plan is starting to form. He’ll turn the cauliflower into the main dish. He’ll marinate it with oil and salt and pre-roast it. In the meantime he’ll prepare a miso glaze which he’ll put on top of the cauliflower before letting it roast for the rest of time. When it’s fully done, he’ll put the pomegranate seeds, sesame seeds, caramelized cashews and red onion and some fresh chili as the final touch. It might sound a little wild, but he’s sure the sweetness of the pomegranates together with the miso glaze will go perfectly with the hotness of the chili and underline the flavor of the cauliflower.

When the judge first announced the task, Jace had been sure that he’ll go for a starter instead of dessert, and the ingredients he has left prove him right. He’ll prepare an eggplant masala with tomatoes, garlic and ginger for the spice and fresh coriander for the looks and taste. But first he has to start off with the cauliflower to get it nice and soft.

He rinses the vegetable briefly before applying some tablespoons of olive oil and adding several dashes of sea salt. He wraps it tightly into foil before placing it in the oven and setting a timer for twenty-five minutes. This should be enough for a cauliflower this size and it leaves him enough time to prepare the miso glaze and the eggplant masala.

Jace works quickly and efficiently, chopping the needed herbs and vegetables with skilled ease. Nevertheless, he feels the time pressure. One hour is not a lot to prepare two complete dishes, even though he knows what he’s doing. He doesn’t bother much with cleaning up behind himself, there’s no time for that. He knows he would have gotten a punishment from his father for leaving such a mess, but now he doesn’t care that some spots on his apron are telling witnesses of the dishes he’s preparing.

When the timer sets off, Jace quickly jumps over to the ovens, which are stationed a little separate from the cooking spots. He grabs the oven mitts and pulls the baking tray out. He unwraps the foil to see if it is pre-roasted enough.

“God damnit,” Jace curses when in his haste his wrist connects with the hot tray. “Fuck,” he adds for good measure when the burning pain fully enfolds. It’s not his first burn and probably also not his last, but it always hurts like a bitch.

At least the damn cauliflower is as it should be.

“Here,” he suddenly hears a voice beside him. “You look like you could need a hand,” Magnus says with a wink, a statement that would leave Jace flustered all over and pissed if Magnus wouldn't hold a cooling ice pack in his hand.

“Thanks,” he mutters, taking the pack out of his hand and brushing accidentally against Magnus’ fingers, a touch that makes them both lock eyes. Jace presses the pack to his aching wrist, holding eye contact the whole time until Magnus breaks it with another wink. Jace looks after Magnus who strolls back to his cooking station as if he has all the time in the world. Of course his place is spotless, and so is Magnus. His apron is as white as a bride’s dress. Bastard. Jace manages to drag his eyes off of Magnus and onto his vegetable again. Miso glaze. He needs to apply the glaze and put the thing back into the oven for another few minutes. Preferably without wounds this time.

Jace rubs exhaustedly over his forehead with the back of his hand. He managed to dish out his two courses just in time, and the judges are happy when they examine it. He passes another round, and so does Magnus. And of course there are others he doesn’t care about that pass too. He’s happy, but he’s also tired, and his wrist is still throbbing.

“We have a special surprise for someone today,” the moderator announces, thrilled, after the judges told the last contestant to pack up his things and leave.

Jace frowns. He learned to dislike surprises, as they never meant something good.

“Jace, are you ready for an extra life interview?” The moderator beams at Jace, and he is rather sure that it’s a hypothetical question. So he nods and smiles the cockiest smile he can manage. Even though he’s not ready. He doesn’t want to be surprised, but he steps towards the moderator anyway, while all others are allowed to leave and retreat to the solitude of their hotel rooms and watch him getting grilled.

Magnus hesitates for a second when he sees the lonely figure slumped into one booth in the hotel bar, his hands curled around an empty glass. But then he gives himself a startle, and goes over to the bar to order two whiskeys. When the waiter passes him the glasses, he strolls over to the man.

Jace doesn’t look up at him, though he must have heard him walk over in the otherwise quiet bar. It’s something that would make a less confident man than Magnus probably turn around, but Magnus has made up his mind. And when he has made up his mind, there are only a few things that can stop him. Being deliberately ignored by someone certainly is none of them.

With gentle fingers he plucks the empty glass out of Jace’s hands and replaces it with a full one. He’s careful not to touch Jace, he doesn’t want to rile him up, not this time. Despite having shared some fun moments with him, he doesn’t exactly know where they stand with each other, but he feels Jace shouldn’t be alone right now. When Jace’s hands curl around the full glass, their fingers touch for a heartbeat. It’s just the ghost of a brush, but it finally makes Jace look up and acknowledge his presence.

Jace lifts his glass in a silent greeting, and Magnus takes the gesture as what he hopes it is, an invitation to sit down. When Jace doesn’t object, he takes a sip from his whiskey, the amber-colored liquid running smoothly down his throat.

“Thanks,” Jace mutters.

“I thought you could use a refill,” Magnus declares, taking another mouthful.

“It’s not exactly a refill when it’s something else, isn’t it?” Jace asks, swirling the remaining whiskey in his glass.

“I suppose it is not. But life’s too short to drink cheap booze.”

“You’re such a snob,” Jace says, but lacking real conviction. “But I’m sure you can afford it. Not everyone has the sad backstory of growing up poor, have they? I’m sure you’ve heard.”

For a moment Magnus contemplates to outright lie and tell Jace that he hasn’t heard, but Jace is not dumb. He probably knows that by now everyone who watches Boss Chef, and probably even a few who don’t, and certainly all participants, know everything about Jace’s past. At least what the producers decided to drag into the open.

“They had no right doing this. I’m sorry it happened,” Magnus says with a serene voice, signaling the waiter to bring two more glasses.

“Yeah, well. Me too.”

For a moment their eyes lock before Jace averts his gaze and stares into his now empty glass and it leaves Magnus wondering if Jace means he’s sorry that his past was being revealed, or his past happening. Probably both. At least he feels like that.

“You know, when I signed up, I thought that they’ll maybe pick up the story with my father. The way he brought me up, his death, the foster system. Things like that. I never suspected they would go find my mother and ask her why she left me behind. Apparently, I was an evil kid.”

Jace accepts the full glass with a nod when Magnus pushes it towards him. They probably shouldn’t drink so much, given tomorrow is elimination day. But he can’t bring himself to care right now.

Magnus shifts in his seat, and he accidentally brushes against Jace’s thigh. But when the other doesn’t withdraw, neither does he. He keeps his leg where it is, not pressing against Jace, merely leaning against him, but enough so that they both feel it.

“You weren’t evil, Jace. You were just a toddler when she left, and no toddler is evil. Maybe you had a bit of a temper, maybe you did destroy her flowers - but that’s not a reason to leave a child behind with a more than questionable father. She’s the evil one. You deserved better.”

Jace is silent for a while, sucking at his bottom lip before he answers. “What would you know?”

Now it’s Magnus’ turn to grow silent. He knows more than he likes to know. About mothers who think their kids are evil. He knows that his mother had been mentally ill. It still hurts. It still hurts that she left him in the most final way to leave someone. It wasn’t her fault. But it also wasn’t his, a fact that took Magnus a long time to believe, and sometimes he isn’t fully sure he’s gotten to that point already. The blame his stepfather put on him didn’t help, nor did the fact that he discovered his biological dad was in fact what his and Jace’s mother claimed their children were. Evil. Asmodeus was an evil man who tried to coerce him into following in his footsteps.

“More than you know,” Magnus whispers. “My mother killed herself and blamed me for doing so. As did my stepdad. And I, for a long time.” He’s not entirely sure why he confides in Jace, he hasn’t voiced this to anyone besides his therapist for a very long time. It’s not to get pity, he doesn’t need that.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Jace’s voice is firm, and it makes Magnus look at him. Their eyes lock, and the fire he sees in Jace’s eyes makes him nod. And suddenly he knows why he told Jace. Because he understands, without him having to say much. Jace understands because he’s been through something similar. He felt a similar guilt and pain.

“What was your bio dad like?” Jace asks, guiding the glass to his lips. The ice cubes cling softly against each other as Magnus takes his time to answer. He’s glad that he chose to come here to sit next to Jace. He’s glad to still feel his leg brushing against his.

“He’s the one who was evil,” he finally says. “Well, at least he was rich.”

“Fathers, eh?” is all Jace says, but the fact that Jace increases the pressure against his leg tells him enough to know that Jace also understands this. Fathers.

“Are you not afraid they’ll do the same to you?” Jace muses after they’ve been comfortably silent for a while.

“No, I don’t think they will. I give them enough without it.”

“So it’s all a show? The glitter, the free-wheeling bisexual stuff and so on?”

“It is, and it isn’t. I like glamor and glitter. I am bi, and I’m proud of it. But I always found it easier to laugh than to cry. And we know how television works. If they want a story about me, they’ll drag some of my past lovers or orgies I had into the open, things I don’t care about. I give them that, so they’ll leave the things I care about in peace and in the past.”

“Yeah,” Jace murmurs while standing up, swaying just a tiny bit when he does so, “if I’d known I would’ve told them I’m bi too.”

When he stands, the sleeve of his shirt rides up, revealing the angry looking burn mark from the accident with the oven before. Without thinking, Magnus reaches for Jace’s arm to have a better look. He brushes gently over the red mark with his thumb.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little,” Jace confesses, looking entranced at his wrist and Magnus’ gentle moving thumb.

“This is supposed to help,” Magnus whispers so lowly that Jace nearly doesn’t hear it. He sucks in a breath when out of a sudden he feels Magnus’ soft lips pressing against the burn, placing a chaste kiss to it.

They stare at each other, Magnus still holding Jace’s arm, Jace still standing still, before Jace withdraws his arm the same moment Magnus lets go.

“Thank you.”

Magnus isn’t sure if Jace means the kiss, their talk, or the drinks. Magnus hopes it’s for the first two.

“Good luck for tomorrow, Jace,” he calls after him when Jace is already on his way out of the bar.

Jace turns around, his usual cocky grin in place. “I don’t need luck. I have the skills. But good luck to you, Magnus.”

Bastard, Magnus mutters, but cannot help the smile. Some laugh. Some get cocky. Both are so much easier than to cry.

Several days later

The after party of Boss Chef is in full swing, but Jace doesn’t feel like celebrating. He made the second place, out of twenty contestants. That’s not bad. But neither is it good. Good would have been the first place, the check about 250,000 dollars and the ugly golden trophy. Jace never liked to lose, but to lose the possibility to fulfill his dream of becoming his own master really sucks.

Jace decides to skip the rest of the party which is held at the production studio where they also cooked. The corridors are quiet, everybody is busy getting drunk, getting blown or crawling at Magnus’ feet, who, of course, won. If Jace hears any mention of his delicious slice of chocolate with pistachios and caramelized macadamia nuts served on vanilla ice cream ever again, Jace thinks he’ll punch someone. Maybe Victor would be up for a fight, he looked as sour as Jace felt when the last three places had been announced. Victor third, Jace second and Magnus first.

He doesn’t really begrudge Magnus the victory though, he’s at least glad that it’s him and not Victor. Magnus is good, he’s a worthy winner. But he really wanted to win himself. Jace moves towards the exit. When he walks by the door that leads to the studio where they filmed all the cooking, he pauses for a second but then he presses the handle down. Locked. Jace hesitates another second, but then he fumbles for the paper clip he knows he has in the pocket of his jeans. He learned to pick locks at the age of seven, time to put it to use again.

The lock is no match to Jace’s skills, and a moment later he’s inside. He closes the door behind him carefully. The room is only dimly lit but Jace doesn’t bother to turn on the lights. He isn’t entirely sure what he’s doing here, but when he sees that the place is not yet cleaned and the remains of the dishes the last three contestants served are still there, he walks over to Magnus’ place.

There it is. The chocolate slice. The pistachios. The nuts. Only the ice cream is gone, probably stored in the fridge. Or melted in the drain. Jace glares at the dessert that cost him the victory. Desserts have never been his strong suit, and when after the starter and the main dish he was on dead level with Magnus, a bad foreboding bestrode him. A foreboding that had been right.

Jace takes a spoon and digs into the slice. He sucks the chocolate from the spoon, closing his eyes against his will when the different flavors hit his taste buds. It’s rich and heavy, but not too much. Sweet, but balanced with the roasted aroma of the nuts.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Jace's eyes snap open when he hears the voice. He turns, leaning against the kitchen counter to face Magnus. Magnus doesn’t sound half as smug as Jace thought he would after winning. Instead, a genuine smile plays around Magnus’ lips and his eyes glow nearly golden in the lightning of the room.

“Shouldn’t you be in the other room celebrating?” Jace asks, dodging the question.

Magnus shrugs. “I found the company a little dull. And Victor looked like he wanted to get his hands on a cocktail stirrer to stab me with the blunt side of it.”

Jace gives a quiet huff of suppressed laughter. “Who says I’m not doing the same?”

“That wouldn’t be your style,” Magnus muses, “I bet you're more the hands-on type. Fist fight?”

“If you insist.” Jace says, not being able to hold back his grin.

Magnus chuckles and leans in to pluck the spoon out of Jace’s hand. He scoops up a mouthful of the chocolate and swallows it. “So what do you think?” Magnus asks, eyeing Jace intently.

For a second, Jace is drawn to say something along the lines of okay or edible, but he realizes that Magnus’ question is genuine. That he really wants to know what he thinks.

“It’s good,” Jace says, “really good.” Jace steals the spoon back to take another bite, just then realizing how close Magnus stands. He’s so close, he can smell his perfume, which has a soft undertone of sandalwood, a smell Jace very much likes.

“I think it would taste even better with caramelized peanuts instead of macadamia,” Jace adds, looking Magnus directly into the eyes, making sure that he understands that it’s a genuine remark and not a mockery.

“Peanuts,” Magnus repeats, retrieving the spoon again from Jace. “You might be right,” he says after tasting another bit. “I will try that out.”

Jace watches Magnus as he makes another half step towards him, spreading his legs automatically to make room for Magnus.

“What I  wanted to ask,” Magnus starts, placing the spoon into the sink, before leaning yet another inch closer, “was, did it help?”

Jace’s breath hitches adorably in his throat. “Did what help?”

“The kiss. To your wrist. Because if it did, I bit my lip earlier. And it still hurts.”

Jace feels more than sees the smile on Magnus’ face. His heart thrums in his chest, and he feels a little dizzy. And a little brave. “It helped,” Jace whispers, “and I’m happy to return the favor.”

He leans in and bridges the final gap. They’re not touching otherwise, only their lips meet at first in a tentative kiss that soon turns more heated. Magnus curls his hand into the collar of Jace's shirt and presses against him, kissing him hungrily.

“Do you think that’s enough,” Magnus pants when they gasp for air.

“Better safe than sorry,” Jace gives back, reaching for Magnus to draw him in again.

“Agreed.” Magnus moans when Jace wraps his arms around him and starts to stroke his back, the usage of his nails making Magnus shiver with want.

They’re both breathless when they break apart.

“You don’t happen to have other injuries on different body parts?” Jace says with a slight smirk, “I’d sacrifice myself to kiss them too.”

“Would you, now,” Magnus laughs, running his hands down Jace’s side and settling on his hips, daring to slip one finger under the hem of Jace’s shirt to stroke the naked skin there. He loves feeling the small shudder that runs through Jace’s body at his tender motion. “Where could that be?”

“I don’t know,” Jace murmurs, pressing a soft kiss just under Magnus’ earlobe. “Maybe here. Or here.” He kisses his way down Magnus’ throat, nibbling at the tender flesh. “Or maybe here.” He gives Magnus’ ass a heartfelt squeeze, laughing when he hears Magnus’ squeal of pleasure and surprise, a sound he’ll definitely deny being able to make.

“I think I’d like that.” Magnus manages after he can catch his breath again.

“So my room?” Jace asks while still caressing every inch of Magnus’ skin he can reach with his lips and tongue.

“No,” Magnus says firmly, “my room. And yes, I am a snob. But my bed is double the size of a standard one, and I have a jacuzzi.”

“You’re such a snob,” Jace confirms, “but life’s too short to spend in a tiny bed and a regular bathtub, I guess?”

Magnus huffs in amusement, taking Jace’s hand and pulling reluctantly away from his lips. “Exactly. And for the record, I might be a snob, but you’re an ass.”

“I am not. But I can finally help you find yours,” Jace gives back, laughing when Magnus slaps him lightly.

They leave the production studio quietly, both glad that they don’t run into someone. The streets are empty too, and the short walk to their hotel is only prolonged by some more kissing.

A small grunt peals off Jace’s lips when Magnus presses him against the mirror as soon as the door of the elevator closes behind them.

“I love the noises you make,” Magnus whispers in Jace’s ear, sending goosebumps down Jace’s spine. “And I’ll promise you’ll make a lot more of them soon.”

For once Jace fails to give an answer, too busy tilting his head to give Magnus’ access to his throat and pulling him closer at the same time. When they finally reach the seventh floor, Magnus fumbles for the key card to his suite.

“Wow,” Jace manages when he steps inside. “This suite might just be bigger than my entire apartment.” And he’s not even exaggerating. Determined not to let himself be intimidated by the opulence of it, Jace makes a direct beeline towards the bed, toeing his boots off before throwing himself on it.

A soft sigh escapes him when he sinks in. Magnus smiles at him, crawling on top of him. “I knew you’d like it.”

“What’s not to like,” Jace whispers, “comfy, big bed, beautiful man, a little snobbish but apart from that…” Jace reaches for Magnus and pulls him the rest of the way on top of him.

“I agree,” Magnus says, “great bed, gorgeous man, a little bit of an ass, but well. I’ll make do.”

“So you think I’m gorgeous,” Jace says with a pleased smile, ignoring the teasing.

“And you think I’m beautiful.”

They both nod at the same time, which makes them laugh before they both dive in to kiss each other.

“Really gorgeous,” Magnus confirms while he kisses his way down the neck tattoo and towards the collar of Jace’s shirt. He hears the small catch in Jace’s breath when he opens the first buttons, and he gives Jace time to voice any concern but when Jace entangles his hands in his hair to guide his lips back to his skin, Magnus proceeds.

He kisses his way down, admiring Jace’s muscular chest and defined abs, before he tugs at the cuffs of Jace’s shirt to pull them off. He frowns at the still angry looking burn on Jace’s wrist, and before Jace can protest, he starts to kiss the spot again, swirling his tongue over the little wound until Jace moans softly.

Magnus smiles when he feels Jace’s impatient fingers on him, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. He makes quick process of them and shrugs his shirt off, pleased when he hears the appreciative tone Jace makes. He might be a little older than Jace and more slender, but he’s sure to keep in shape. His abs are just as pronounced and the darkening of Jace’s eyes tells him he noticed too.

Magnus was always confident in his own body, that’s why he likes to wear glamorous things. Or show off a little. He kneels over Jace, smiling down on him while popping the buttons of his fly slowly open, revealing his expensive black Versace boxer briefs. He stands up, holding Jace captive with his stare, before slowly dropping his pants, making sure to move his body in a way every stripper in Hollywood would be jealous of.

His smile turns into a smirk when he sees the growing bulge in Jace’s pants. Magnus hugs his thumbs into the hem of his briefs, pulling them slowly down and over his ass, his hips swaying suggestively. With the grace of a dancer Magnus settles over Jace again, placing a kiss to his lips.

“Can I?” Magnus whispers, his hands trailing towards Jace’s jeans.

“Fuck yes,” Jace answers, lifting his hips eagerly when Magnus unzips him and discards his pants and underwear without further ado.

For now Magnus ignores the erection Jace is already sporting. He strokes the sensitive flesh between Jace’s legs, and when he hears the hitch in Jace’s breathing he came to find so endearing, he dives deeper to not only caress Jace’s inner thighs with his hands but also with his lips.

Jace moans shamelessly when Magnus starts to suck, his hips bucking but Magnus is quick to press him down again. He bites lightly into  the spot he just caressed, delighted to find that already a hickey is blooming there, even more delighted when he hears Jace’s soft whimper.

“Are you okay?” Magnus asks gently while scooting up again, moaning himself when he instantly feels Jace’s hands on him, his nails scratching over his back while the other hand kneads his ass.

“Very.” Jace had been a little nervous, but he’s not any longer. The way Magnus takes charge but always makes sure to check in with him makes him feel secure. “But I have never done this. With a man,” Jace clarifies when Magnus raises an eyebrow. “But I want to, with you,” he adds after another pause where Magnus simply stroked his jaw with the tip of his index finger.

Instead of answering right away Magnus bends down to kiss Jace thoroughly. Just when they’re both panting breathlessly, he replies.

“I want you too,” Magnus whispers while reaching for the top drawer. He opens it and fishes lube and condoms out of it. “I want to ride you.” A grin spreads over his face when he sees Jace eyes widening at his words.

Jace bites his bottom lip at the clear statement, containing the moan that wants to slip out. His cock gives a more than interested twitch at the images that pop into his head. He watches mesmerized as Magnus pores some lube on his fingers to quickly prep himself before he tears the package open and rolls the condom over Jace.

“Okay?” Magnus asks again, waiting for Jace to nod eagerly before sinking down, blowing all images Jace had away, as nothing Jace imagined compares to the reality of Magnus riding him. Magnus grins down on him while taking his hands and pinning them next to his head, making clear who’s in charge as his hips circle at a quickening pace, driving both of them mad.

Jace comes with a guttural moan, quickly followed by Magnus who collapses down on him, allowing Jace to wrap him in his arms. They barely manage to clean each other and dispose of the condom before they fall into bed again, wrapping themselves into the heavy blanket and each other. They’re both asleep in seconds, more content and satisfied than in ages.

Jace is the first to wake. Magnus still lies next to him, snuggled firmly against his back, a leg thrown over him and his arm slung around his waist possessively. Jace sighs, blinking against the rays of sun that woke him up. He doesn’t want to be awake; he doesn’t want to face reality.

The night with Magnus feels like a dream, and Jace knows what happens to dreams. They’re not real and shatter as soon as you wake up.

Magnus tightens his arms around Jace when he feels him stir. He wished he could prolong this, forever if possible. He doesn’t want to let go of Jace, not just yet. He knows what comes after a night like this. Awkward goodbyes and the realization that his partner never meant they wanted the true him but the flawless image he maintains.

But Jace stirs, and he turns, so that they’re facing each other. Magnus struggles to open his eyes when he feels his gaze on him.

“Hey,” Jace whispers, and something in the softness of Magnus’ not yet fully awake features make Jace brave again. “You look beautiful.” He kisses Magnus softly on the lips. “Just to make sure you’re really okay.”

Magnus laughs, a smile stealing his face at the statement. The awkwardness he feared isn’t there, instead there’s the ease of the night before. “I’m sure I look horrible with all of my  make-up smeared over my face,” Magnus says, rubbing at his eyes.

“No,” Jace says, catching Magnus’ hand by his wrist. “You never looked better.”

“Sap,” Magnus says, but not hiding the fact how much he likes to hear Jace say it.

He pulls Jace on top of him, realizing that he loves to feel his weight pressing him down. “I have some interviews to give today, but I can call you later?”

“You can even see me later.”

"Mmhm. That would be nice,” Magnus replies, pressing a kiss to Jace’s tip of the nose.

“Very nice indeed.”

A few weeks later

Magnus smiles at the cell in his hand. He’s been in a long business meeting, and after tiring discussions he finally has the time to open the messages Jace sent. Jace’s name on his phone never fails to make him smile, though most of the time the messages are nothing extraordinary. Just things Jace likes to share with him, what he did during his day or a quote or a song that reminded him of Magnus. And it’s these ordinary things that make Magnus smile the hardest.

Magnus is quick to reign his smile in when he sees the raised eyebrow of his lawyer, Raphael, and the amused grin on the face of his personal assistant.

He pockets his phone with a firm gesture. “There’s one more thing I need to discuss with you.”

Jace stares flabbergasted at the man in front of the door to his apartment. The man, though he doesn’t look older than forty, has an old-school aura around him. He’s dressed in an old fashioned but expensive looking gray three-piece suit, brown loafers, and a striped tie. He has a brown briefcase in hand that looks as if it’s emerged from the early 1920s. He’s just missing the monocle to complete his look.

“You sure you have the right door?” Jace asks, unsure what a man like that could want from someone like him.

“Jace Wayland?” the man asks and when Jace nods, he proceeds to pull a stack of papers out of his briefcase. “Then I assume I am at the right place. My name is Ragnor Fell, and I have an offer for you. I speak on behalf of a client that wishes to stay anonymous. May I?” The man gestures towards Jace’s apartment, and Jace is too perplexed to do anything but step aside and let him in.

He’s glad that he battled his weaker self yesterday and cleared the kitchen table of the empty wine bottle and glass. Somehow, he’s sure that not much escapes the man’s eye, though he tries politely not to look at anything in particular.

“What kind of offer?” Jace asks while sitting down.

Ragnor places the papers in front of him. “It’s a business opportunity. My client happens to know that you’ve been looking to go into business with some kind of… food truck. And they think it’s a promising investment.”

The way Ragnor stumbles over the word food truck and spits it out as if it’s a disease clearly tells that he’s not sharing his client’s sentiment.

“It’s all in the papers,” Ragnor adds, pushing the documents towards Jace.

Jace looks at the documents, shortly thinking that it’s kind of odd to choose a font that looks like the font of a typewriter. “And how do they know that?”

Ragnor shrugs, folding his hands neatly on the table. He took the seat opposite of Jace and looks expectantly at him. “It’s not my business to question my client’s motivation. Or choices. But as far as I know,” Ragnor wiggles his nose as if he smelled something bad, “some sort of television show was involved. But as I said, that is not my business. My task is to make it happen, in a favorable manner for all parties involved. And you will find it favorable, once you have read through them.” Ragnor taps lightly on the papers.

Jace takes the hint and starts to read through the proposal. Ragnor is right, as far as he understands the matter, the offer seems fair. More than fair, even. Which makes him not less  weary.

“You might want to confer with your lawyer,” Ragnor says when he sees that Jace has finished reading the documents.

“I don’t have a lawyer,” Jace mutters, because honestly, does the rented one-bedroom apartment scream having his personal lawyer on speed dial to the man?

“Well then I recommend you consult the yellow pages to find one,” Ragnor advises while rising. “My client expects an answer within this week.”

“The yellow pages,” Jace echoes, suddenly sure that the document doesn’t only look like it’s typed on a typewriter, but actually is.

“Yes,” Ragnor confirms, scratching his nose and heading to the door. He turns at the last moment to look at Jace. “Or,” he says with a slight smile at his sudden idea, “you can use this google .”

Jace stares for a rather long time at the closed door of his apartment, suppressing the urge to pinch himself to verify that he’s not dreaming. But then he shakes himself out of his shock. After reading a second and third time through the offer and not detecting anything bad, Jace reaches for his cell and presses a button. He doesn’t know a lawyer, but at least he knows someone who does.

“Jace,” Magnus’ voice, as cheery as always, sounds through the speaker. “A good business lawyer? In fact I do. He has a little attitude, but he’s good at what he does. I’ll send you his details. His name is Raphael Santiago.”

Magnus grins when he ends the phone call, ignoring the glare Raphael who’s been listening in the whole time shoots him. “What?” Magnus asks innocently when the glare becomes a notch more intense. “You have a little attitude.”

Raphael chooses to ignore that. “Isn’t it a bit unethical to send me to verify the validity of an offer I wrote in the first place?” Raphael asks. “I don’t understand the hiding anyway.”

“It only would be unethical if the offer wasn’t a just one, and we both know it is fair. More than that. We give him the opportunity to start his business, and when it’s starting to take off and he makes real money, he has the option to buy us out at a fair price and be completely his own boss.”

“I know that. But why not make the offer under your name?”

“Because he’s stubborn as hell and probably wouldn’t accept it if he knew it’s from me. And besides, it’s not good to mix feelings with business.” Magnus doesn’t add how much it means to him that Jace never asks anything of him. No expensive gifts, no money, no covering any of his bills.

“It’s feelings now, huh?” Raphael says with a raised eyebrow, suppressing the eye roll at the last second. “What happened to only-casual sex you claimed the two of you were having?”

Magnus sighs. Feelings . He cannot deny there is one or the other. Or all of them. “Feelings. Not that you would understand. Or that it's any of your business. And I take it back. You don’t have a small attitude. You have a big one.”

Raphael just laughs at that, leaving Magnus wondering if he shouldn’t go looking for a different lawyer. Which he knows he will never do. Raphael is practically family. It’s probably why he’s so annoying at times.

several months later

Jace grins when he sees who’s approaching his food truck. He looks as glamorous as ever with tight leather pants, a shiny, silvery shirt that is unbuttoned to his chest to reveal several shiny necklaces and black kohl kajal underlining his eyes.

Instead of acknowledging him, Jace pretends not having seen him, and he continues serving the customers in front of him without batting an eye at Magnus.

“One French Gourmet Burger and the Truffled Parmesan Fries,” Magnus orders when it’s his turn, equally not acknowledging Jace’s presence. As if he had chosen this specific food truck out of pure coincidence. There are two who can play that game. And they both love to play and do it well.

“That makes fourteen dollars,” Jace smiles down at Magnus, a challenging gleam in his eyes.

“Oh come on, I’m sure you can do a special deal for me,” Magnus replies with a wink, the first time making eye contact.

“You’re right. It’s twenty for you.” Jace deadpans.

Magnus chuckles at that but reaches for his wallet and takes a fifty note out of it. “Here. The rest is for you. For the great service,” he adds with another wink.

Snobbish bastard. But Jace cannot hide the grin at their banter.

“Simon, can you handle the truck for a moment yourself?” Jace asks when the line of customers has been reduced to one. He hired Simon a few weeks back when he couldn’t handle everything on his own anymore. And though Simon does talk a lot, he’s also capable, and they became sort of friends in the short time Simon’s been working for him.

“Sure thing, Jace.” Simon beams at his boss.

Jace discards his apron and strolls over to Magnus who sits comfortably on a bench, finishing the rest of his burger.

Jace reaches for one of the last French fries and pops it into his mouth, grinning when he hears the little huff. “Overpricing the food and then stealing it?” Magnus chides but smiles back at him.

“Only from the beautiful customers,” Jace murmurs, sneaking another one. “But I can repay you with a kiss?”

“Mmhm, I think I can accept this method of payment. But only from the gorgeous cook.”

Jace leans in and places a square kiss on Magnus’ lips. “Good?”

“I think I need another one. Two fries, two kisses.”

“Seems only fair,” Jace concedes before kissing him again, more thoroughly this time.

“Happy with how it is going?” Magnus asks, meaning the food truck, but also the rest.

Jace gives him another kiss before he drops his head on Magnus’ shoulder. “Very,” he says. Meaning the food truck. But even more the rest.

[cindersandroses]

Digital Get Down, Chapter 5

AUTHORS: cindersandroses ( losille2000 and cinderella1181)

CHAPTERS: 5/?

PAIRING: Actor!Henry Cavill/ Plus-Size OFC

GENRE: Romance/Fluff/HUMOR

FIC SUMMARY: When SuperHank met OrcPrincessPeach on the World of Warcraft message boards, it was love at first raid. Now, almost a year later, they’re ready to take the next step and meet in person. Half a world away from each other, both decide to meet in Atlanta for DragonCon, since she was already going to be there for her work as a game designer at Blizzard… never mind that she is a devout nerd. They both have to face the fact that reality is very different from a digital world.

RATING: Mature

WARNING: Mentions of assault.

AUTHORS NOTES: Love you all!

Also on AO3!

Chapter 5

Opal turned to the side as she looked at herself in the full length mirror on the back of the closet door. She smoothed the front of her dress over her rounded belly and picked at the slight ruching that was meant to help hide her imperfections along with the black color of the dress, but it did neither. There’d be no hiding anything. This was about as bodycon as one could get, and indeed she bought it a long time ago because she thought she looked hot in the form fitting silk. As soon as she got it home, though, and really looked at herself wearing it in the harsh light of day, she put it away, in the back of her closet with the other beautiful clothes she’d bought but never found the courage to wear.  

That was changing. Now. Today. Okay, not today. But as soon as she walked back into her house. She planned to go straight to her closet and pull them all out and wear each of them as soon as she had the right opportunity or occasion. Considering that most of them were on the fancier side of things, meant for dates, she figured she’d have more chances to wear them now, anyway.

Even though she and Henry would literally be halfway across the globe from each other after this weekend. She couldn’t dwell on that fact, though. If she did, then the sadness set in. She refused to let that particular emotion claw its way back. They’d make it work if it was going to work. It wasn’t like she couldn’t just take her computer places and work there.

If she could convince her boss to allow frequent trips.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t also spend part of his time in Los Angeles. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Henry walked by behind her, drawing her attention away from those troubling thoughts. He fumbled with the cufflink on his left shirt cuff. She was going to make a quip about it, but the words died on her lips when she noticed he looked at her like a fat kid looked at cake. He licked his lips, smiled, and walked into the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but blush. She never would’ve believed he was truly stealing glances at her, but that notion had been squashed earlier at the spa. In fact, now she was hyper aware of his long, molten stares. 

And it was all because of the wonderful esthetician who completed her facial after their massage. What had started out as a traumatic experience ended up making her feel the most confident she’d ever felt in her own skin, thanks in part to Jessa the esthetician’s enlightening conversation. 

“He’s looking at you like you are the purest water and he’s just had some hot sauce.” 

Opal giggled, and blushed, looking at the woman.  “I just keep thinking he’s going to be like, ‘Ugh, not my type’ and leave, Jessa.” 

“Girl, please. You got one of those peach bottoms that men love to get a handful of. You already got him eating out of your hand, he’s not stopped glancing over here this whole time,” Jessa said, putting her hand on her hip. “And if he does do that, I got a handful of fine brothers who would eat that peach bottom up. So you just let Jessa know and I’ll hook you up.”

The comment made Opal laugh loudly, disturbing the serenity of the spa and resulted in a few perturbed glares from other clients. Henry had glanced up, one eyebrow raised in interest. She smiled at him sweetly and he went back to his shave. Opal smiled. “Thank you, Jessa. I’ll keep you updated.”  

Opal had made sure to slip Jessa an extra tip, even though she was sure Henry had tipped everyone well. Stingy wasn’t really a word she would use to describe this man, not materially or emotionally. 

Or physically.

Definitely not physically. He liked touching. Being affectionate.

She did not; or, more aptly, she was not used to it in the romantic sense. But she wasn’t even that affectionate with her family. There were a few hugs here and there as a child, but they weren’t overly huggy. And then there was the other thing he didn’t know about, because she never talked about it, that prevented her from initially enjoying his touches.

It was getting easier, though, the more he touched her. She found, with some relief, that she actually quite liked being close to him in that way. Perhaps there was hope for her, after all.

Opal moved away from the mirror and followed his trail to the bathroom. She rested a hip on the door jamb and watched him finish his grooming. He saw her in the mirror and smiled. 

“Like what you see?” he asked, that insidious brow raised.

“Nah,” she said with a grin. “I was just thinking about how you use twice the product I do.”

Henry rubbed his hands on a hand towel to remove the remnants of whatever moisturizer he’d used on his freshly shaved jaw. “That’s because it takes a lot to make me look this good. You’re already bloody gorgeous, so you don’t need it.”

Her cheeks heated and she shifted her weight awkwardly on her bare feet. Why were compliments so difficult to take? 

“And as an answer to your question, I do like what I see,” she replied. “I appreciate your efforts. But I also love getting to just observe each other. That’s what we were missing over the last year.”

Henry stopped and smiled at her. “I watched you getting ready, and that’s why I’m so behind. I couldn’t stop watching you. You are enchanting,” he whispered. 

The air caught in her lungs upon hearing the deep gravelliness of his sentiment. He closed the distance between them. The hunger, the lust, the pain, the joy, the need, all passed across his face. He leaned down and brushed his lips across her temple.  “We’re going to make a hell of a couple tonight, Princess.”

“Yes, we are,” she replied breathlessly. 

“Let me finish getting ready. You are distracting.” 

Opal giggled. “Pot, kettle.” 

She moved away from the door and went back to the bed to struggle into the sky high heels she had thought would be great to wear, but now she regretted the decision to pack them. Her feet were going to ache by the end of the night. But--the minx inside her reminded--that could possibly lead to another massage. This time, just with Henry. 

As she finished up the last buckle on the strappy things and stretched her legs out to check how they looked, she noticed Henry watching from across the room with a glazed look in his eyes. She laughed at him, because it was the exact same look she’d had as he secured the waistcoat around his trim torso.  “This… me putting on shoes shut you down?”

Henry reanimated with a shrug. “I have a thing for really high strappy, almost slutty, heels. Nothing like…” He stopped and blushed slightly. “Uh, never mind.”

Opal stood up and went over to him, just barely shorter than him now, and grinned. “I will have to remember that for later,” she replied. 

“Oh, god, please do. Bonus points for silk stockings and the whole belt contraption,” he murmured.

She giggled. “You know, men and women are so different. You want the littlest piece of clothing on me, but I’d rather see you in a three piece suit.”

“I can fuck in a three piece suit just as well as I can without,” he teased.

His comment, and the harsh word, caught her off guard. Taking the opportunity, he went over to grab his cell phone. He beckoned her with a crooked finger. “Come here.” 

She didn’t ask for clarification or even think about it; her feet in their dangerous footwear moved of their volition. When she reached him, he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her head, all while snapping a quick picture. He looked at it, smiled, and turned it around for her to view.

Her cheeks were high with color. Her skin glowed; her eyes sparkled. Her smile showed almost every one of her teeth. Everything about it made her seem so vital, so alive, so… beautiful. She had never seen herself so happy. Simply being near him made her want to beam from ear to ear. 

He smiled softly. “Now you see what I see when I look at you.”

“I don’t always look like this,” she protested.

“You do,” he replied. “Let me send this to you so you can send it to Amber.”

Opal shifted uncomfortably. She’d completely forgotten about sending Amber a picture. What kind of friend was she, anyway? 

“We can’t bring our phones tonight,” he explained. “Something about making sure nothing unflattering gets out.” 

Opal looked up at him and nodded. “Okay. Let me just send Amber a text telling her I’m going out for the night.” 

She saved the picture to her phone and opened up the text stream with her friend. She took the picture, sent it, and wrote, “I don’t think I ever expected my Hank to be this real. Going out for the night. Talk to you in the morning.”

She plugged her phone in, stood up, and took Henry’s hand. “Okay. Let’s go.” 

 ~~~

Opal stood in the atrium of the Georgia Aquarium and sighed. She was enchanted. She’d been here a ton of times before at previous cons, but never on a night specifically designed to be an intimate cocktail party with all of the con’s celebrity guests.  

What actually was her life right now? 

Henry talked to Dany and Dwayne, and she couldn’t get over the fact that she was standing next to The Rock. How many times had she sat next to her brothers while they watched this giant man wrestle? If someone had told her this was going to be her life when she left Los Angeles the night before, she’d have told them they were lying. It was all a little surreal.

Dany smiled at her, obviously picking up on the fact that she had zoned out and had literal stars in her eyes.  “So, Opal, what do you do?” 

Opal hummed and blinked at her. “Yeah, sorry. I’m a designer and programmer for Blizzard. I have been there, oh gosh, almost ten years now. Best job I have ever had.”

“And you live with?” Dany inquired. 

Opal understood Dany’s reticence to accept her into the group. Dany didn’t want anything to harm the business, and even though she seemed tough, she clearly cared deeply for both men as friends. Still, though, Opal didn’t think she gave off a crazy fan vibe.

“My best friend, from like middle school,” Opal said, moving to stand closer to Dany. She leaned in to speak quietly.  “I know you’re worried about me using him, I get that, trust me. If I was in your position I would, too. But honestly, Dany, I didn’t even know he was him… until this morning when I arrived. I just thought he was a dorky British guy named Hank. That was it. In the months leading up to this I just got to know his heart and who he is, not Henry Cavill, God’s gift to women. I knew SuperHank, the cleric who runs around healing people, because he is that guy. I got to know the Hank who was shy and loved to cook and gets excited about Warhammer and new fantasy novels. Who tells me constantly that I am worthy and beautiful.” 

Dany beamed at her. “That’s just what I wanted to hear.” 

“And frankly, you scare me a little bit, so I won’t do anything untoward,” Opal said.

Dany laughed and flexed a bicep. “Don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t.”

“But seriously, Opal,” she said and grabbed Opal’s hand. “He needs someone he can love with his whole being, and I’ve never seen him happier than when he has spoken to me about you.” She squeezed her hand. “It’s not going to be easy, but I promise to make sure you’re okay and safe, and that you can be with him.”

Opal grinned. “He is pretty special.” She looked beside her, expecting to find him there.  “And... gone, apparently.”

Lauren smiled at her.  “He and Dwayne went to get some drinks.” 

Opal felt her stomach clench. She tried to smile, but before she could muster one, Henry was back by her side. He handed her a flute of champagne. “Here, Princess.” 

Opal took the glass from him and didn’t say a word. Her jaw clenched and it took everything in her to stop her hand from shaking. 

Henry frowned. “Is that okay? Do you want something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, it’s fine,” she replied and tried to smile again. Even though she couldn’t see it, she knew it came off as more of a grimace because of the expression Henry returned. He knew something was wrong, but the words to explain it to him failed to form on her tongue.

Not that she really had the chance to say anything, anyway. A loud, booming voice rang out across the atrium, “LITTLE BRUDDA!!!”

Opal spun around and watched in abject horror as two grown men raced towards each other and chest bumped each other like drunken frat boys.

Dwayne shook his head.  “Seriously, you two? We’re in public.” 

Henry came back and smiled.  “Jason, my man, this… is Opal.” 

Jason looked at her, his eyebrow raised.  “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Jason…” He took her free hand and kissed the back of it. “If he gives you any trouble, let me know.”

Opal blushed. “Thank you. I will.”

Dazzled once more by the Man Also Known As Khal Drogo, Henry startled her with a hand on the small of her back. She looked up at him, still holding the flute from which she had not yet had a drop of champagne.

Henry leaned down into her ear. “Do you want me to get something else for you?”

She shook her head.  “No, I just, uh… I’m going to get my own drink.” 

She excused herself and headed over to the bar, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t running away from him and running away from the conversation she should have already had with him, even before they both decided to meet here in Atlanta. 

She wasn’t in line long when she felt his presence behind her. 

“Are you okay?” he asked again, concern written all over his face.

“I am, honestly. I just… well… it’s stupid. I don’t drink anything that I don’t see poured myself, and I very rarely drink alcohol in public. I should have told you. It’s just my hang up and, gah... I’m sorry I freaked out a little bit.”

Henry’s eyebrows knit together. He nodded, but he clearly wanted more. 

“Let me get my drink and we’ll take a walk and talk, okay?” she asked, hoping to smooth things over.

He nodded and stood quietly with her. Even though he was clearly confused and maybe a little angry, his presence was still one that calmed her and she found herself resting against his sturdy bulk as they waited. Opal ordered her cranberry juice in a martini glass. To anyone other than herself and Henry, it looked like a Cosmo. It was her fallback when she wanted to hang out with the cool kids but didn’t want to do what the cool kids were doing. Because that one time she did what the cool kids were doing? She lived to regret it.

She took his hand and started to walk through the first exhibit. Opal paused at a tube enclosure in the middle of the room full of jellies. A black light shone down into the water, illuminating the sea creatures as they performed a graceful, haunting dance around their tank. She stood quietly, Henry standing next to her, silent, thinking. 

Finally, she cleared her throat from the heavy emotion making it difficult to breathe. “I was drugged.”

Henry’s fingers curled into her back. Though he tried to mask the sharp intake of air, his gasp was still audible. “Opal, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” she said, just barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t just that. Amber and I were freshmen in college and I wanted to fit in. We went to a frat party. A guy we had art history with invited us.”

His anger was palpable; it wasn’t anger directed at her, though. Somehow, she knew that, as she stared at the gelatinous orbs bobbing through the water. She took a sip of the cranberry juice before moving on.

“I woke up the next morning, head fuzzy, in a room I had never seen before, and my panties around my ankles.” She braved a look up at Henry, to gauge his reaction. The sharp line of his jaw was set, his rage evident.

For some reason, it was cathartic to share this secret with another human. Amber knew, of course. Amber had nursed her back from the brink after they got home from the hospital.

“It’s the reason I pull away sometimes when you touch me, and the reason I am so unsure of myself. I’m sorry I never told you before, but you have a right to know.”

Henry didn’t speak; he looked at a point beyond her, staring in stony silence for the longest time. He finally tore his focus away from that point and gazed down at her. His face spoke volumes, even before his words did. He rested his chin on her head and wrapped her in his arms. “You know I would never, ever do that.”

“Oh, no, I do! I just… I want so badly for you to touch me, to be yours, I just need… time,” she said. “I don’t even know if I’m actually a virgin or not. I don’t know what they did to me. The next morning, Amber took me to the ER and a rape kit was done, but it was inconclusive. I’m sorry if this changes the way you feel about being with me.”

Henry pulled away from her and put his drink on the floor. He took her face gently in his hands. “I never, ever would feel any different about you. I just… I understand now.” He kissed her forehead, but didn’t move his lips from the spot they’d touched. His next words were muffled, but the meaning behind them was everything. “My promise to you is that I will not hurt you, and it’s all going to be at your pace.”

She smiled and pushed his hands away from her face. With her free hand, she reached up and let her hand rest on the nape of his neck. “Well, then, we can do this, cause I’m very ready for it.” 

With little strength, she pulled him down to her and kissed him. It wasn’t passionate or chaste; it was somewhere in the middle. A reassurance. A promise. Her promise to be as open with him as possible. His cue that she was okay with him pushing her boundaries. And she loved him for it.

[fundiebabynamebible]

My Duggar Conspiracy Theories

Michelle - Suffering from health issues as a result of all the pregnancies. Not life threatening but surely she can’t have got away with having all those kids without some sort oft health issues.

Jim Bob - Resents Josh for almost ruining the family reputation, losing them 19 Kids and Counting and tons of money but he won’t cut ties because he needs to keep up the perfect family image.

He knows that Derick could seriously harm the family reputation and that is why he isn’t poking the hornet’s nest.

Josh - I think he was abused as a child and this is why he molested his sisters. I’m not condoning what he did by any means but kids usually copy what they see others doing.

Jana - Is happy where she is with the lost girls at the TTH because it’s an easier life for her. Sure she has to care for the kids/nieces/nephews and do housework but it’s better than being pregnant an having to give birth every five minutes. I think she saw what happened to Jill and decided it wasn’t for her.

Jessa - She wants to take steps to leave the cult like Jill did but she doesn’t know how she would cope without Jim Bob’s money so is waiting whilst she ha enough savings or until Ben get a better paid job.

Kendra - Not as dumb as she makes out, in fact I think she used the ‘I’m so dumb, giggly and cute’ tactic to get more popular.

Josiah - Tried to escape the cult, confided in Jana about what he was planning to do and she blabbed to Jim Bob. That is why he was married off to Lauren so quickly. Maybe he’s gay or maybe he’s not, who cares? Some people are gay, get over it!

Joy and Austin - Kissed and had sex before marriage. Gideon was conceived within wedlock (but only just).

Tyler - Jim Bob’s secret love child and that is why they had to adopt him.

Josie -  Not as healthy as the Duggars want us to believe. Has lasting health issues from her prematurity but Jim Bob and Michelle are hoping God will cure he rather than getting medical help.

[lemondropsssss]

The first week back in Oxenfurt is mainly paperwork. Contract agreements with the University, submitting course-plans for review, submitting and re-submitting lesson plans, and rather unfortunately, a letter home. Claiming the title of Viscount at the gates has repercussions and likely word has already been sent to Lettenhove of his arrival. So he sends the least offensive missive he can to his father and hopes he doesn’t wake up one day to the wrong end of a sword and his father’s intense glare.

The letter he receives back isn’t what he’s expecting. 

Julian, 

I am glad to hear you’re well. I admit to worrying on occasion that you’d died along the road somewhere and I would never know. Mother and Father died of the sweating sickness five years ago now. She asked for you at the end, but we couldn’t find you to bring you home. I snuck in a bard to sing your songs, so she could hear of your adventures. She liked the one about the selkie the best.

Adina and Jessa are grown, and have both married. Their husbands are good men, I made sure of it. Adina is expecting her second child. They were both so young when you left, and Father didn’t allow us to speak of you. But when the twins cried out at night I would sneak into their nursery and tell them your stories so they’d know some part of you. 

The Viscountcy is yours to claim, though I predict some challenges in governing from Oxenfurt. I have been overseeing Lettenhove since Father’s passing, and admit that I enjoy the work. It’s nice to feel needed. And to give our people a proper liege lord, one who won’t just ignore their claims as Father did while increasing taxes to supplement his and Mother’s lifestyle. Our people are healing, and they need their lord at home with them. 

I have an arrangement that I suspect will suit both our needs. Claim the title of Viscount, and give your written word that I am your proxy here in Lettenhove. You may continue to teach, while I run the estate. You will have use of the Oxenfurt townhouse, and will receive a monthly stipend. Please consider this offer. I care deeply for our home and the people of Lettenhove, as I know you do. Please see that this is best for everyone.

I love you, Julek. 

Your sister, 

Marta

Jaskier reads the letter five times in total. His father is dead. And that’s- well he can’t say he exactly mourns for him. But his mother asked for him, and that knowledge breaks his heart. Where was he five years ago? Could he have seen her again? Held her hand as the light left her eyes? And the twins. Closing his eyes he can see them as toddlers. They were barely walking when he left, and now they’re married with children of their own. He remembers holding them both in his arms, fourteen-years-old, and feeling such love. The way they’d looked asleep in their cribs when he said goodbye. The way their baby soft hair had felt under his fingers. He can almost hear their laughter, and tears slip past his closed eyes. 

Marta. His dear Marta. Who he’d sneak sweets to under the dinner table. Who never hurt any creature, no matter how small or scaly or slimy. Marta with her big brown eyes and soft smile. Who would climb into his bed at night when she was afraid and he’d tell her stories until the monsters went away and she fell asleep in his arms. And oh, knowing that she’d done the same for the twins breaks his heart all over again. 

Jaskier sinks to the floor slowly, barely aware of his movements, letter clutched to his chest. And he cries. 

He cries for his mother, and the last breath of air she took. He cries for his little sisters, who had only stories to know him by. He cries for the birthdays he missed, and the skinned knees he couldn’t kiss better, and the way they must have looked on their wedding days. He cries for the nieces or nephews he doesn’t know, and for the one on the way. He cries for his father, and the things he never got to say to him. He cries for Marta, and the loneliness she must feel in that big old castle by herself. He cries for leaving her alone to watch their parents die. He cries for every moment he missed of his sisters' lives. Every moment he couldn’t protect them. Every moment he wasn’t there. 

And this isn’t like losing Geralt, but the pain hits him in the same spot. It drives like glass into his skin, into his center, until all he is is shattered. He is pieces of lives missed and letters unsent and things undone. 

He cries for the family he abandoned, and the man who abandoned him. 

.

The townhouse hasn’t seen much use since he was younger and his parents would take them to the city for summers. Jaskier doesn’t mind. The first thing he does is send most of the paintings and sculptures to Marta; they’re too ostentatious for him, and she can do what she likes with the remnants of their parent’s luxe style choices. He has a crew from the Giving Door come to the house and collect any furniture they want to go to their second-hand shop. Good riddance to it all.

He furnishes the house in more earthy and jewel tones. Plush sofas, soft beds, and the biggest tub he can reasonably fit in the bathroom. Jaskier makes the house everything it wasn’t before; soft, warm, inviting, happy. 

Jaskier hires a housekeeper named Beatrice who calls him hun and won’t answer to anything other than Auntie or Bea. Bea moves into the servant’s level with a very old, very small white dog Arthur who takes up residence on a pillow in the front window and hardly moves. He is absolutely smitten with them both.

When he comes back late from the University, Bea has a warm dinner waiting for him. If she’s gone to bed, she leaves out tea and a covered plate of meat cheese and bread for him. It’s being taken care of in a way Jaskier isn’t entirely used to, but not opposed to. 

In fact, he finds he quite likes the calm of routine. His students are eager to learn, and after the first two months hardly ask him about the White Wolf anymore. Jaskier’s grateful. It isn’t easy to explain to a room full of young people who admire you that the man you immortalized in song wished you gone for two decades before you noticed. Not that it’s easy to explain to anyone, really. 

And that’s how it goes for eighteen months. Jaskier teaches, he comes home, he sleeps, and he does it again. It’s nice to reconnect with his University peers, and Oxenfurt is a revolving door of old faces. Some though, are more well received than others. 

Jaskier is teaching when it happens. It’s his high poetry class, only five students. A knock at the door, and the pinched face of a University messenger pokes around the door.

“Professor Julian?” All the class is looking between them. “There was someone at the gate for you.” His stomach drops. “He wouldn’t wait, insisted I bring them to you.” Jaskier’s mouth is suddenly very dry. It takes two attempts to get his mouth moving. 

“Right, yes, thank you. Uh,” He looks back at his expectant class, “Right, you all... do something with a poem, class dismissed.” 

Jaskier knows exactly what’s waiting for him. Only one person would be so insistent to see him they’d terrify a messenger so.

Said messenger is very relieved when Jaskier appears on the other side of the door. He offers him a quick bow and bolts back down the corridor, leaving Jaskier alone with his guests.

.

@caspertheassholeghost @innocentcinnamonpun @queenofmymanyfandoms 

y’all asked to be tagged in part 2 so here ya go 

part 1 can be found here and here

[amazingdriverfics]

hii, can i request a fic where reader is sackler’s gf and she constantly worried that adam still has feelings for Jessa/Hannah and he always reassures her. But after coming early from a trip to surprise him with a gift (an expensive watch with their anniversary and initials engraved at the back) she catches him making out with Jessa/Hannah in their apartment? Sad ending please, but with a time skip of reader moving on and meeting (cross over moment) with another Adam driver character? Thank you!

A/N: Hey love, I hope you are doing fine. I know this took me a while (just like everything lately), but I wrote this with much love. Two of my favorite characters are in here and so I hope that you can feel the double of love, although Sackler will fuck things up…

Anyway, hope you like it. Sending you love.

Warnings: bi reader (just a mention), alcoholism, addiction, mention to toxic relationships and cheating.

My masterlist

When you met Adam Sackler you should have known better, you really should, but you saw so much of yourself in him and you wanted to help him so very much that you were blinded.

You first met him in a AA meeting, he was clearly devastated and as he spoke about his last relationship, it felt like you heard your own story from a couple of years ago coming off his mouth and it was like a light had surfaced inside of you and you just knew you had to find a way to help the man.

As soon as the meeting was over you made your way to the huge figure, confident that this would do you just as good as it would do to him. And so as he drank water by the door you got closer, gently calling his name.

Even though when he turned your way you were quickly astonished by how pretty Adam was, your intention at first had nothing to do with romance, you just wanted to be there for him.

You talked to him for a bit about your last relationship with a girl name Heather and how just, as he had said in the meeting, you were super unhealthy to each other, how it was super intense and no matter how much both of you loved one another, how nothing could make things work and how in the last of the relationship it felt like the only thing keeping you both together was the fear of being by yourself. You even told the unknown man how you had started to drink again after things ended until you decided to go back to the meetings.

As you finished the long introduction you invited him for dinner in a place nearby which made your favorite burgers in the area.

The dinner was nice, you got to know him and his story better, how the addiction started in a young age and that he soon realized that he needed to do something about it, how he had been jumping from one unhealthy relationship to another, how he had been struggling to sobriety since things ended between him and his ex-girlfriend named Jessa and how he felt so completely alone.

With every word he spoke, the more you saw yourself in him and, therefore, the more you convinced yourself that you could definitely avoid that the man had to go through all the terrible situations you had after things ended with Heather.

From there, your friendship evolved quite quickly, Adam was truly a lonely person and you made the effort to go and meet him whenever he asked you to. Hanging out with the man was fun, although he was a little bit of a weirdo and sometimes did some questionable things, you really enjoyed his company.

The real problem was that, after a couple of months being kind of his rock, your feelings started to get in the way of things and you knew that if you made a move you could ruin everything you had built with Sackler. You were completely aware that getting over a relationship like that took a lot of time and suffering and that he was nowhere near the stage in which he was able to date someone else and so you buried your feelings, telling yourself that they would eventually go away.

They didn’t.

Although you never admitted to yourself that your feelings had gone nowhere, they were constantly proving it to you. It was obvious whenever he stood too close to you and your heartbeat fastened, whenever he smiled and you found yourself smiling too just because seeing him happy made you just as happy, whenever you tried to make out with someone else and you just couldn’t bring yourself to really enjoy it and, mostly, whenever you cried alone in your bed because you knew that there was nothing you could do to get him to be with you.

Or so you thought.

Things really reached a turning point when Sackler stopped treating you just like a friend and he started to shamelessly flirt with you whenever and wherever he possibly could - sometimes he would say things so dirty that you felt your cheeks heating up -.

When he made the first move then it felt like you had gone to heaven. You were in his kitchen getting some water since it was super hot in New York and you felt like you would melt in the floor at any minute. You were so hypnotized trying to get your body temperature down that you didn’t even notice Adam sneaking behind you until you felt his bare chest touching your back.

In that moment, you were completely frozen, hyper aware of every inch of his skin that touched yours, but you didn’t know what to do, it truly felt like a dream coming to life. When his lips finally touched yours you thought that if you died in that moment, you would die a happy person, as things progressed and he went down on you, you were sure.

After that, things progressed slowly and you were actually the one to decide that it was the right pace to follow.

Even though you wished that his heart was all yours, you knew that a part of it still belonged to Jessa and knowing that ignoring that fact would just hurt you, you asked him to let things go on as they should, not hurrying anything. He tried to convince you to do otherwise, saying that Jessa was the past and you were the present and future, but you knew better.

At least until then.

The problem with addiction is that some are more obvious like being addicted to drugs or alcohol, you and the people around you tend to notice it kind of quickly, but when you get addicted to someone, things can go a long way before you do anything about it and maybe then it is already too late.

Therefore, you didn’t notice how addicted you were to Adam Sackler until you were crying your way out of the apartment you shared almost two years later.

What at first was something you felt as completely normal didn’t take long to become an insecurity.

Little by little, your world started to be all about Adam, you thought of him through most of your day, you dreamt about him almost everyday and whenever you could be with him, you would be. And so, with the progress of the relationship the thought that he might not feel so intensely for you started to haunt you a lot and it was usually followed by a voice telling you that he would never get over Jessa because you would never be as good as her.

And although you knew rationally that you were way better to him than her and the constant reassurance Sackler gave you, something inside of you could never let it go.

Of course you trusted him and you knew that he loved you back, in his own way he would always make it clear to you about how much you meant to him. He would take you for a run, walk you somewhere, hold you through some crisis and spend a whole day with you in bed if you just asked him to.

Things were really great, you spent a whole year without any major problems before you and him decided to move in together and for a while it was really good for your insecurity, because he would constantly remind you that you were enough for him and that he would never trade what you two had and how you made him feel, but as his work started to demand for him to travel to perform the insecurity kept making its way back in.

Hell broke loose two days before his birthday. You had traveled to Seattle for a family thing and you came back sooner as soon as you found out that the rolex watch you bought for him with both of your initials and anniversary engraved on it - after saving money for months - was ready. You figured that it would be nice to surprise him with the watch before and so you reschedule the flight.

You were so excited on your way back to him that you could barely stop smiling, you couldn’t stop picturing his perfect face when he saw the gift and just the thought made you tear up a bit from sheer happiness.

You didn’t suspect anything, not even as you got near the door listening to some strange noises, you were too much in your head, too excited to think about anything else other than opening that stupid door and kissing him deeply before surprising him.

As the door opened finally, the one to truly surprise the other one was Adam.

He had his eyes closed and his mouth attached to someone with long blond hair which was in his lap, her legs straddling him as her pelvis moved on top of his.

You were totally shocked, not a noise left your mouth and the only sound that announced your present to your boyfriend and his guest was the sound of the package holding the most expensive thing you had ever bought someone hit the ground. You watched as she jumped out of his lap and his guilty eyes met yours, but you could only focus on her face as you remembered the picture he had shown you years ago in the burger place, it was Jessa.

“y/n” you heard his deep voice, but you just couldn’t move as the tears streamed down your face and you kept looking at her.

Adam repeated your name getting closer and taking his hand to your wrist, the touch waking you up. You took your eyes off of her and turned to him, the hurt in you becoming too much. There was nothing that he could do or say to fix the situation and you had nothing to say to him.

With trembling hands you got off his touch and grabbed the present on the floor, handling it to him before saying ‘happy birthday’ and leaving the place. You could get your things some other day.

——————————————————————————

You weren’t going to lie, it felt almost like a part of you had died that night and you had almost gone back to drinking once again, but eventually things got better.

You started to go to therapy, you finally opened a cafeteria and bookstore like you had always dreamt and after you got your things off of his apartment, you never saw Adam again.

The first time you thought of dating once again was when you saw a tall man, with medium length black hair and a pretty face in your store. He walked in holding hands with his son and as you watched him talk so sweetly to the boy, your heart warmed up a bit.

After that day he started coming more and more, sometimes with his Henry, as Charlie had told you the little boy was called, and sometimes without him whenever he was with his mother.

The first time he had shown interest in you was when he told you that his theater company was on the other side of the street and that he could never say no to a good cup of coffee, a good book and a good company causing you to blush right away. And he kept his word, there wasn’t a day where he wouldn’t pass by, even if it was just for 5 minutes.

Two months after coming to the shop for the first time, Charlie finally asked you out on a date and as you said yes, you couldn’t help feeling that he might just be the one.

[ktellmeastory]

Old Habits Die Hard-Adam Sackler

Post Break up with Sackler? ❤️ you’re pretending we’re still together because my relatives will disprove of the break up so you’re being all sweet it’s reminding me of why i fell in love with you in the first place annnnnnnd maybe I kissed you goodbye by accident... old habits die hard okay?

I am sorry this took so long but honestly it gave me all kinds of ideas and I had to write this whole thing out. Also, side note, Adam talks about not liking his parents and having a grandmother who sent him money every month so I liked the idea of her being the one that he cared about.

Was this actually real fucking life?  It couldn’t be, not really.  It couldn’t be that you were here, in a car with Adam and Caroline heading for upstate New York and the Sackler’s Grandmothers house. When Adam had come to her to ask her about it, she had thought he was clinically insane. You guys had broken up almost two months ago, after a screaming match where you both had said things you weren’t sure you’d ever come back from and it had been extremely awkward seeing as you both lived in the old apartment still. (It’s New York and the rent was good and you were poor). You had both only very recently begun talking to each other let alone asking for favors. And wasn’t that exactly what this was? When Adam had stopped you one night after brushing your teeth in the small hall, he had looked so sincere it had thrown you off balance for a moment.  “Listen Kid, I know I’ve got no right to…but…fuck me, I need you to…” he ran a hand over his face, growling deep in his throat before you placed a hand on his bicep to calm him down.  

“Just ask me whatever you want to ask me Adam,” you said softly, the first time you’ve both had a polite conversation since you could remember.   “My Grandma’s 90th Birthday party is coming up and Caroline and I are heading to see her…and if I show up alone it’s gonna be a fucking wreck…See I told her all about you, but I never told her that…Can you come with me?  I’ll do whatever you want Kid, whatever it takes…I’ll give you head…I’ll let you tie me up…I’ll” you laugh and put your hand over his mouth.  

“I’ll come…Sure I’ll come…” you said, taking your hand away.  “I wouldn’t want to disappoint your Grandma…besides she may take her money back and then we’d both be on our asses and I can’t do the whole living in a box in New York trope.” You tease.  And now you’re on your way, feeling extremely awkward as Caroline looks up from the back seat at you and Adam as if to see if she can tell the difference in you both.

Walking throughout the party center are Grandma Sackler’s friends, various relatives and your favorite, people carrying around different hors d'oeuvres on silver platters.  When Adam had told you the party was going to be a Hollywood Golden Age party you had been too excited to dress up in your best impression of (your favorite old time Hollywood Starlet), but you were even more excited for the food that would come along. You had been to one Sackler event when you and Adam had first starting rooming together and you knew Grandma Sackler didn’t scrimp when it came to the food choices.  You were just about to grab another of those fabulous little puff pastries filled with something you weren���t sure you had ever tasted before when you felt Adam’s hand on your lower back as he stepped up beside you.  He looked very dapper in his suit and you gave him a smile, reaching up to straighten his tie.  “Having fun?” you asked, feeling the tension radiating off of him, his fingers ever so lightly digging into your skin as he looked around.

“Yes…no…fuck no…” he said looking down at you.  “I hate this shit…it’s all so fake…it’s all so…” “Put on?” You both turned to see his Grandma walking over, her cane tapping on the floor of the rented ballroom.  She looks like an absolute million bucks and you smile at her.  “Don’t I know it…But honestly this is my last big party so I may as well go all out.” She says giving her grandson a loving but exasperated smile.

“I don’t believe that for a moment Mrs. Sackler,” you say with a smile at her.

“Come give me a hug Ms. Superstar,” she says opening her arms to you.  “And what have I told you about calling me Mrs. Sackler…its Grandma, and if you can’t bring yourself to call someone who looks as fabulous as me Grandma you can always call me Gigi.” She smiles as you share a hug before stepping back, taking Adam’s hand in yours, giving it a small reassuring squeeze as he leans in and wraps his Grandmother in a hug.

“Hi Grandma,” he murmurs stepping back and flipping his hair out of his eyes.  “Happy Birthday”

“Thank you my dear, I’m glad you and your sister could make it, although she looks dressed more like a Hollywood porn star than a movie star.”  You chuckled softly, thinking that Adam and his Grandma shared the same kind of matter of fact demeanor and disregard for anything other than what they thought.

“Once she had the kid, she’s been extra proud of her figure or something…” Adam said with a shrug.  

“Oh…That reminds me…” You said shaking your head, handing Adam your champagne flute before reaching into your small purse.  “I forgot that I was holding onto this,” you said pulling out the card and small black mesh gift bag.  “This is just a little gift from Adam and I” you said handing it over to her.  Adam looked at you questioningly but you just shook your head as she opened the card and then the small little pouch.  Inside was a necklace that went along with the theme of the night.  “We thought you might like something a little sparkly to go along with the memory of tonight…I was supposed to put it on the gift table but I completely forgot.”

“It’s beautiful, Adam, put it on me” she demanded handing it to him and moving her hair out of his way.  He clasped it to her neck before taking a step back to you.  “However did you pick it?”

“I just trusted this one,” he said looking down at you, you looking up at him and giving him a cute smile and wink.  He leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, grateful when you went along with it, and didn’t act as surprised as he felt he might be in this moment.

“Well keep this one…I like her much better than that Jessa girl, and ugh don’t even get me started on Hannah…” Grandma Sackler said before waving at someone in the crowd.  “Excuse me you two, come say goodbye before you leave tonight”. She said before walking away.

“That was a fucking beast move you pulled there kid,” he said looking down at you.  “You really think of everything don’t you?”

“I figured you’d probably have forgotten about it, and I couldn’t help it…I saw the necklace when I was shopping and I knew she’d love it…”

“You really saved my ass…Listen…”

“Adam!” Caroline screamed from across the room.  “Come look at this fucking ice sculpture”. You laughed and nodded in her direction.

“You better go look at it before she goes insane”

“Can we talk later?”

“Adam!”

“Of course…Go go go” you said pushing him towards his sister with a laugh.  He gave an exaggerated sigh and went leaving you with tingling lips and the beginning of something akin to want bubbling in your stomach.  You watched Adam and his sister, Caroline forcing Adam to dance with her and shook your head with a laugh.  How was it that in this moment, you couldn’t remember why you had ended the relationship?  And why was it, that all you could think about was his lips on yours?  If you were going to make it through the rest of the night you’d really need to stop thinking about that.  You shook your head and headed for the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face.  

Fixing your lipstick in the mirror you heard the door open and looked over surprised to see Adam.  “Did you know you’re in the wrong room?” you asked with a smile as you put your lipstick back in your purse.  Adam walked over and pushed each bathroom stall door open before going back to the door and locking it before crossing to you in three long strides and grabbing your face in his hands.  He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a passionate mix of need and want.  When he finally pulls away you’re breathless.  “Adam…” you murmur out.

“God that was fucking sexy you know…” he asks, his hands running down your sides and to your hips, lifting you and placing you on the small vanity table one always finds in fancy hotel bathrooms.  “You come here looking like a fucking whole ass meal…you impress everyone in my family that I give two shits about,” he murmurs placing kisses against your throat, his hands coming up to pull the fancy hair pins in your hair out.  “I’ve been half hard all night long and I can’t do this anymore.” He pulls back to look down at you as he bunches your dress up to your hips revealing your lacy lingerie.  “Now,” he says sinking to his knees, lifting your legs and hooking them over his shoulders.  “You can tell me no if you want,” he said peppering your thigh with kisses.  “But I think I’ll die if you don’t let me eat this pussy right now.” His brown eyes search yours for a yes or a no.  You lick your lips, already feeling how wet you are before nodding at him, giving him the okay.  “Thank fucking god,” he groans licking your panty covered slit.  His hands fluttered for a moment before he shrugged and ripped the lacy things at the hips letting them fall in shreds to the table.  “I’ll buy you another fucking pair…don’t be mad” he said before burying his face in between your legs, his large tongue licking straight up your slit, collecting your sweet slick with a groan.  A gasp falls from your lips, your fingers going into his hair to hold him there.  How was it possible that you could forget how good he was with that tongue of his?  “God you taste so fucking good,” he moans with a smirk up at you, sucking two of his fingers for a moment before pressing them into you.  Your hips push towards him as you clench around him.  “Do you feel how much your cunt wants this?  How fucking tight you are?” he asks, his other hand pulling your lips apart so he can stare at the way his fingers disappear into you before he leans down and puts his lips around your clit and gives it a suck.

“Oh fuck!” Your hands going back into his hair, pulling at the roots.  He continues his assault, the sounds of your slick being fucked into you and the sounds he makes as he messily eats you out the only thing you can hear over your whimpers and moans.  He pulls his fingers from you, replacing them with his tongue, his wet fingers wrapping around your thighs as he pulls your legs even farther apart.  You wrap your legs tighter around him, your hips moving against his mouth as you hold him to you.  You feel him chuckle against you, the vibrations going straight through your clit and deep into your core.  “Shit…” you groaned out, trying to disengage from holding him so tightly.

“No no…” he groans pulling back to look up at you.  “Smother me in your tight little pussy…let me die here…fuck my face,” he said, biting at your inner thigh.  “I want you to cum down my throat…can you do that kid?”  He waits for your hands in his hair pressing him back to where you want him before he continues to suck and nibble at your clit, his fingers curving up to find that spot that sends your toes curling in your heels, that dig into his back as you pull him closer.  

“Fuck…I’m so…so close” you pant out, your hips moving against Adam’s mouth and his fingers.  He presses another of his large digits into you and hits that spot before he bites down on your clit again and then it’s like you’ve lost all connection to this reality as you cum against his fingers and into his waiting mouth, your walls clenching around his fingers so tightly that he has to coax you to relax so he can remove them from you.  He stands and brings his hand to his lips and sucks his fingers clean as he lets you sit back against the wall, panting slightly your cheeks his favorite just fucked pink.  You look up at him and he smiles down at you. “You did so fucking good kid,” he said leaning down and pressing his lips to yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips and his tongue.  “Now…let’s go say goodbye so I can take your upstairs and fuck you on one of the balconies so everyone can see.”

[keepingupwithfundies]

CO 1112: A Quarantine Courtship

The Duggars film themselves as the coronavirus emerges. Abbie celebrates her birthday, some of the sister sew masks, Jinger sorts some of Felicity’s old clothes. During the family video call, Jinger & Jeremy surprise everyone with a pregnancy and a gender reveal. Justin surprises everyone with a courtship. 

-T 

This episode is recorded by the Duggars on their own due to the coronavirus.

John David explains that things are crazy in the world right now, and there is a lot of fear out there of the unknown. Jeremy says there has been camaraderie among neighbors and everyone is in this fight together.

It's Abbie's birthday, and John is planning on baking her a cake. Abbie is turning 28, and Gracie is three months old. Abbie says the first three months of motherhood have been good. John says he s making a cake since it is difficult to buy a gluten free dairy free cake. Abbie is gluten and sugar free for medical reasons, and John David says it was hard to track down all the ingredients for the cake with the grocery store having reduced supplies.

Meanwhile, some of the sisters are decorating their cars for a drive by birthday celebration for Abbie. Joy says the Duggars always make birthdays a big deal, but with the social distancing it has been harder. Jim Bob is driving a three wheel sports car which one of the boys recently traded for. Jessa says this has been a little taste of what Jinger deals with being at a distance all the time. As John bakes, the parade approaches their house and Jim Bob begins honking. Abbie hears some horns, and John tells Abbie to go see what they're doing. Abbie grabs Gracie and they head out to see all the family driving by. Abbie says it was so much fun to have her own birthday parade. Everyone drops off gifts for her as well, and Abbie is really surprised. Kendra says she thinks it was a fun surprise, and Joy says she thinks she was really surprised. Abbie said she appreciated everyone taking time out of their day to wish her a happy birthday. Meanwhile, John sings Happy Birthday to Abbie and she blows out the candles on her cake. The cake is impressive, and Abbie really enjoys it.

At the main house, Jana, Johannah, Jennifer, and Jordyn are having a mask making session. Jana says she got a pattern online to make their own mask after the government recommended wearing them. Jana says the whole family can sew, whether that's making a whole outfit or sewing a button. John says the changes are difficult, but they're trying to follow the guidelines. Jana says the younger kids are good but missing family members and they don't fully get the scope of what's going on.

In LA, Jinger is sorting through Felicity's old, too small clothes to send some to her cousins in Arkansas. Jinger says this is a good time to get projects done, although she has a couch on its side. She was taking the legs off to move it, and got 3 off but couldn't get one and didn't want to go to the hardware show. Jinger says seeing the old outfits takes her back to when Felicity was small, and Jinger has Felicity say "bye-bye, clothes" and Jinger is glad the clothes will go to family. Producers ask if Jinger thinks the clothes will make it back to her again, and Jinger says "I don't know" coyly.

At the Seewalds, Jessa calls Michelle and invites her to come over and visit through the window so they can see Ivy walking. She's been walking around recently, and the Seewalds are exciting. Ben says with 3 mobile kids, you have to be focused and alert and make sure the bathroom door is closed because Ivy loves to run in there and mess with stuff. The Duggars head over, and everyone waves through the window. Henry is sad he can't invite them inside. Jessa puts Ivy down, and she takes a few steps for them. everyone outside cheers. Spurgeon says she'll walk to him if he says "come to me". Ivy kisses Jordyn through the glass, and Jana says it is hard to be on the other side of the glass but nice to see it in person. Ben says it was a little unconventional, but they're glad they could be there for the moment.

Jana says the girls are going to deliver masks to their family members who don't live in the main house, and they're dropping them off at the doorstep of each house. They drop of masks for John and Abbie, and Joe and Kendra (who don't seem to be home) and then Joy and Austin- whose dog Brielle immediately goes for the bag. Joy saves the masks and thanks them. Josie says she thinks everyone liked the masks.

About 3 months into the pandemic, the Duggar family gathers for family video chat. The Vuolos have an announcement: they're expecting, and the family is really excited for them. Jinger is 13 weeks, and her due date is November 19 and Jinger says she is feeling good. Jeremy tells everyone to guess by giving them a task based on what they would have around the house to find a pink or blue item around the house, and Jinger and Jeremy will guess too, and everyone will find together. Everyone has five minutes and runs around to find something or color something for their guess. Jinger says this is the longest they've waited to announce anything, and they're excited. Everyone comes back with their guesses. it ends up an even 14 guesses girl, 14 guesses boy. Both the Vuolos think it is a girl too, and Jeremy pulls out a soccer ball full of pink or blue powder, and everyone will find out together. Everyone counts down, and Jeremy kicks the soccer ball. Jeremy kicks it, and it explodes pink. Everyone celebrates- and John (who guessed girl) teases Austin (who guessed boy). Everyone celebrates, and the Vuolos are thrilled. The girl grandchildren now have the lead, and this makes it 19 grandkids and counting. Jim Bob mentions Lauren's birthday was yesterday, and Ben has his 25th birthday today, but he's stepped away with the boys. And then Justin in Texas joins the video chat, and he has some news. He introduces Claire, and announces they are in an official relationship. Justin says Claire is 19, he is 17, and they met at a family conference and a few months after they made it official. She is outgoing and sweet, and the family is excited for the two of them, and they hope she will be able to visit in Texas soon. Justin says even though they can't go out, they can spend quality time together and be creative. Jessa says when you're in love, it doesn't matter. Jim Bob concludes the call. Jessa wraps up the past year: a lot of joys, some hard times. Joy and Austin are excited to meet their baby girl and watch Gideon grow and see their kids together. Jana says the future will be busy: more weddings, more babies. Jacksons says more relationships, and Justin says you never know where it will go.