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live-the-fangirl-life · 3 years ago

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It’s the Thought that Counts

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn - Birthday Oneshot

All Rowan wants to do is throw a surprise party for his girlfriend, but that becomes increasingly difficult as every possible thing that could go wrong—goes wrong.

I wrote this for my birthday on the fifth, but I couldn't wait until then to post it, Enjoy!

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language, Light NSFW

4476 words

*******

“Are you serious?”

If Rowan’s hair wasn’t already silver, it would’ve been by the end of the day from all the stress this was putting him through.

Looking into the open cake box in Fenrys’ hands, he just stared at the inscription atop what was supposed to be a birthday cake for Aelin.

“What? What’s wrong?” Fenrys tried to lean over the lid of the box but it was tall enough to block his view.

“Did you even look at it before you left the store? Before you paid for it?” It took all of Rowan’s self-control not to scream. How many more things could go wrong today?

Fenrys shifted uneasily, noticing Rowan’s slipping control. “Uh, no. I was already running late, and you said to get back here as soon as possible to help finish setting up.”

All Rowan could do was let out a long, slow breath.

“This. Says. Alien.”

The blonde man holding the cake snorted, “what?”

“The cake says ‘Happy Birthday, Alien’”

“Seriously?” Fenrys was quick to put the box down on a nearby table so he could stand next to Rowan and look at it. “Shit. They even put little green Martians on it.”

All Rowan wanted to do was throw a surprise party for his girlfriend.

Was that really too much to ask? Apparently, so.

A couple of months ago Aelin had mentioned how she’d always wanted a surprise party, but of course, you cant ask for a surprise party because then it’s no longer a surprise.

Rowan took the hint and decided to plan something special for her birthday. He even got all their friends to help, and if everything had gone to plan then it would have been a perfect day.

Too bad he couldn’t catch a break.

Rowan had made a list of everything they needed to do, buy, and plan. It was an extensive list because he knew that a party for Aelin had to be perfect. Not because she had impossibly high standards—well, she did, but that wasn’t why it had to be perfect—it was because he loved her and wanted to show her how much he appreciated her on her birthday.

And he thought it would be the icing on the cake—pun intended—to have all their friends involved too. That’s why he was making calls to all of them about what they each needed to do for the party.

First, he got Lorcan and Elide to pick up the golden balloon arch that was going to be at the entrance of the park he’d reserved for the day. By the time he got on the phone with Lorcan, Rowan was already exasperated from having to deal with the city planning office in order to reserve the particular park and gazebo.

“Lorcan, I need you in charge of the—” Rowan broke off, hearing a loud crackling from the other end of the phone.

“You’re cutting off, wha— you say?” Lorcan’s voice was halting as the call cut in-and-out

“I was saying, I need you to cover the balloons.”

“Ba—”

“The balloon canopy.”

“The bo—, ca—”

“Yeah, we need a golden balloon canopy.”

“Okay, fine. I— got the— boun— ca—”

“Shit. Can you hear me?” Rowan pulled his phone away to check his service. It was fine from his end, it must be Lorcan’s phone being spotty.

When Rowan put the phone back to his ear, he could hear rustling and the sound of a car door opening and closing, and then the connection cleared.

“Yeah, man. I heard you. But, are you sure Aelin wants that?” Lorcan sounded skeptical.

“What? Yeah, of course, it’ll be great.” Rowan was already getting impatient, knowing he had a few more errands to run before he could relax.

“Whatever. She’s your girlfriend, and it’s your credit card.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan muttered, “Thank you for your generous help, Lorcan.” then heard someone scolding Lorcan and grinned before saying loud enough for the other person to hear, “Thank you, Elide!”

Rowan hung up and mentally checked off the balloons. What was next?

***

“Aedion, please, I need you to keep Aelin busy for the day.”

Aedion and Lysandra had come over to Rowan and Aelin’s apartment for dinner, and Rowan had dragged Aedion into the kitchen to talk about that weekend’s plan.

Taking a sip of his beer, Aedion raised an eyebrow at him, “Won’t she wonder why her boyfriend is avoiding her on her birthday?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “I won’t be avoiding her. You will very adamantly request to take your cousin to lunch for her birthday, and who am I to get in the way of family?”

Aedion snorted but nodded. “Yeah, okay. Lys and I can take her out.”

“No, Lys can’t be there.”

“What?” Aedion looked at him bewildered. “Why not?”

Rowan sighed. “Because if Lysandra is there with you, then Aelin will wonder why I’m not there with her. If it’s just you and Aelin, then she won’t think it’s weird that I’m gone. Besides,” Rowan took another sip of beer, “I’ll need Lys’ help during the day to set up that slideshow.”

“Right.”

The slideshow Rowan had asked Aedion and Lysandra to make using pictures of Aelin that would play during the party. The one that Aedion wasn’t going to tell Rowan hadn’t been started yet. “Yeah, okay. I’ll invite Aelin to come get lunch with me.”

“Perfect.”

One more thing off Rowan’s list.

***

The morning of the party Rowan asked Fenrys to go pick up Aelin’s cake. It was supposed to be a chocolate and hazelnut cake with the top decorated with kingsflame blossoms and say, “Happy Birthday Aelin.”

Rowan was distracted with setting up decorations and directing their friends to put away the things they brought. Dorian and Manon were in charge of getting the alcohol. Chaol and Yrene were bringing deserts because when it came to Aelin there could never be enough sweets. Fenrys helped Rowan bring out the rest of the food, before being sent off to pick up the cake.

Rowan did a quick scan, mentally checking off everyone. Besides the people he could see, he knew Lysandra was in the gazebo finishing up the slideshow, Aedion was out distracting Aelin, and Elide and Lorcan would be here any minute with the balloons.

Letting out a breath, Rowan smiled. Things seemed to be coming together.

Busy showing Dorian where the coolers for the drinks were, he was too distracted to do more than wave a ‘hello’ to Lorcan and Elide as Lorcan’s truck pulled up to the park. Rowan decided they were smart enough to figure out how to set up a balloon arch—or at least Elide could read the directions to a grumbling Lorcan, so Rowan spent the next half hour with other parts of the setup.

After he finished hanging up the screen they were going to use for the picture slideshow, Rowan went to check on the balloons.

He made it two steps out of the large gazebo and stopped in his tracks.

“What the fuck is this?” Rowan exclaimed, gaping at the large monstrosity in front of him.

Instead of looking at a beautiful, arched balloon canopy, he was looking at a massive, inflatable, child’s bouncy castle.

“What do you mean ‘what the fuck is this?’” Lorcan asked, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead and stepping around the side of the castle. “This is what you asked for.”

“This is not what I asked for.” Rowan could feel his mouth still hanging open and quickly shut it.

Elide looked at Rowan in confusion. “Rowan, you did ask for this. I mean, I definitely thought it was weird that Aelin would want a blow-up bounce house for her birthday, but when Lor asked if you were sure, you insisted it was right.”

Rowan tried to remember that particular conversation. He had so many details in his head and too many people in charge of different things.

“Shit.” The phone call was coming back to Rowan to now. “We kept getting cut off. Shit,” He ran an exasperated hand through his hair making it all stand up on end. He swung around towards Lorcan who looked at him with raised brows. “What did you think I was asking you to get?”

Lorcan slowly looked between the bouncy house and Rowan. “You asked me to get a Bounce Castle.”

For fucks sake.

“I asked you to get a Balloon Canopy.”

Elide’s mouth opened in an ‘O’ and Lorcan said nothing until a moment later he was laughing, bent over at the waist.

“You wanted balloons, and now Galathynius has a bounce castle.” He managed between breaths, ignoring Rowan’s fuming look. It took Elide elbowing him in the side to get him to stop laughing.

“I don’t have time for this. Fix this.” Rowan waved his arms around at the massive blow-up castle, and then he turned around to find something he could actually focus on, trying his best to ignore the increasingly greying clouds in the sky.

“You still paying?” Lorcan called after him.

He let out a string of curses. “Yes.”

Rowan just barely heard the sound of air being let out of the castle as he walked away.

***

A shriek drew Rowan’s attention away from the chairs he was unfolding. He turned towards the gazebo to see Lysandra throw a small ice bucket, mostly filled with water at this point, at the screen Rowan had set up earlier.

The screen that was on fire.

Running in to help, Rowan saw that the candles placed around it had been lit—why the hell would someone already light them? The wind must’ve blown the screen too close causing it to catch fire.

He reached Lysandra just as she threw another bucket of icy water on the screen, dousing the rest of the flames.

“Are you okay?” He looked over Lysandra, but she just seemed shocked and irritated.

“I’m fine.” She gave him a reassuring nod before scowling at the destroyed screen. “This, though, is pretty much dead.” she sighed and closed her laptop she was using to work on the slideshow. “It doesn’t look like we’ll be showing pictures today, Rowan.”

He rubbed at his face. Fine. Okay. He could deal with this. They had a children’s bounce house and no slideshow. That was fine. As long as nothing else went wrong, he could deal with it.

As if in response to his thought, the day began to dim as clouds moved to cover the sun. If Rowan didn’t look at the heavy clouds, they would disappear.

That was when Fenrys came back with the cake.

***

“Alien?! I can’t give my girlfriend a birthday cake that’s calling her an Alien!”

Fenrys almost wanted to laugh at how ridiculous Rowan looked with his hair sticking up and face all red, but he knew this was just the latest in a list of ‘things gone wrong’ and was worried that if he laughed then he wouldn’t live to see the birthday girl.

“Maybe she’ll find it funny,” Fenrys suggested.

Rowan slowly turned toward him with an almost crazed look in his eye. “Funny? You think Aelin will find all this,” he waved his hands at the deflating bounce house, charred hanging screen, and the horribly incorrect cake, “Funny?”

“...Maybe?” Honestly, Fenrys thought Aelin would find it all hilarious but decided to keep his mouth shut. He knew how much work and energy Rowan put into this party, and he worried for his friend’s mental state as he counted all the things that had already gone wrong.

Rowan just dropped his head in his hands and groaned.

***

As soon as Rowan unpacked the last of the food, he heard a boom of thunder.

“This is not happening.” He muttered to himself, refusing to look at what was surely the worst thing that could happen that day.

A moment later he heard the unmistakable sound of hard, fast rain. The yelps from his friends broke him out of his haze and he turned to see everyone rush into the covered gazebo, careful to keep close to the center where they could stay dry.

Everyone besides Yrene, who had been helping Rowan with the food, were varying levels of soaked. And all the decorations they’d been holding were either stuck outside taking the worst of the rain or dragged inside to drip water onto the floor.

Rowan didn’t say anything, he just grabbed the beer bottle out of Aedion’s hand and took a long swig.

***

Looking around, Rowan surveyed the damage. Where a nice balloon canopy should’ve been positioned, a large, deflated, child’s bounce castle stood in its place; the screen he was going to use to show a slideshow of Aelin was burnt to a crisp; the rain pouring down was soaking the park and wrecking everything brought in from the cars, and the perfect cake for his girlfriend was ruined by calling her Alien.

But at least all their friends showed up.

That was the one good thing to come out of this disaster of a party. Even if they were all dripping wet and shivering from their walks from their cars to the covered gazebo in the middle of the park.

Dorian walked up to where Rowan and Aedion were talking about the cousin’s lunch. He took a sip of his drink and asked them, “So, what time is Aelin is getting here?”

Rowan and Aedion both turned towards each other.

“What time did you—”

“When did you say—”

They both froze.

Rowan slowly blinked. “Aedion, you did tell Aelin what time to come tonight, right?”

Aedion shook his head, wincing, “No, man. I was taking her out to lunch. You were supposed to find a reason to get her to the park.”

A dull roaring started in Rowan’s head. He thought over everything he had on his list.

Rent out gazebo: Check.

Delegate decorations: unsuccessful, but Check.

Order cake: again, unsuccessful, but Check.

Get friends to show up: Check.

Buy Aelin’s present: Check

Invite Aelin…

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck me. No, no, no, no, no… Gods damn it!”

Before anyone could another word, Rowan pulled his keys from his pocket and sprinted into the rain towards his car.

***

Aelin loved her birthday.

Usually.

She loved celebrating with her friends and laughing about the stupid gag gift they bought her. She loved making a wish on her candles and she even loved the awkward minute of listening to people sing happy birthday.

Last year, Rowan had woken her up to a particularly amazing round of birthday sex. Which turned into another round in the kitchen and then another one in the shower. He had also spent the day last year doing her favorite things and ending the night with a wonderful dinner at her favorite restaurant.

Which was why she had been so excited to see what this birthday would bring.

Her morning began exactly how she hoped: with Rowan’s tongue between her legs. He’d woken her up slowly, lazily, until she was squirming on the sheets with her hand fisted in his hair.

She’d hoped their morning tumble was the start of a very satisfying day, but soon afterward Rowan left saying he had to make a work call and she should get ready for her lunch with Aedion.

As much as she loved her cousin, all Aelin really wanted to do was stay inside with Rowan all day, clothing-optional. Actually, clothing-nonexistent.

But she did want to see Aedion, and apparently, Rowan’s work call was pressing enough that he practically ran out the door.

Lunch was nice. She hadn’t had one-on-one time with Aedion in a while, but she couldn’t help but notice how antsy he seemed.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked him after the waiter took their set down their drinks.

Her cousin choked on the sip he’d taken, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“What?” He sputtered. “I’m not not telling you anything.”

“Uh huh.”

He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing Ae, don’t sweat it.”

“It looks like you’re the one sweating Aedion.” Leaning back in her chair she smirked and crossed her arms. “Did you get me something you’re worried I won’t like?” she joked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, exactly! Lysandra picked it out but I don’t know if you’ll like it.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Please, if Lys picked out whatever it is, then I’m sure I’ll love it.” Her smirk turned into a genuine smile. “But, it’s from you so I know I’ll like it.”

He laughed but she thought he still looked a bit anxious. Deciding not to worry about whatever else had him fidgety, she let it go.

When she got back to her and Rowan’s apartment, she expected he would be there. He wasn’t.

Aelin didn’t think a work call would take the two hours she’d been out with Aedion, so she hoped Rowan would be back soon. She hadn’t talked about plans today because last year he had been so eager to take the lead.

So she waited.

And waited.

Three hours later she was irate, hurt, and confused. How could he just up and disappear on her birthday? If he was busy—if something came up that he needed to deal with—he should’ve just told her. She still would be upset, but she’d have understood.

But he hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t called or texted. Rowan hadn’t given her any explanation as to why she was alone now on her birthday.

Aelin walked into the kitchen and was about to pour herself a glass of wine when she heard loud noises from the hall outside her apartment door. It sounded like heavy, stampeding footsteps.

And then Rowan was bursting into their apartment.

He was breathing heavily, soaking wet, and looking at her with such an apologetic expression that she momentarily forgot why she was angry.

“Aelin,” he panted, trying to get a breath, “I am so sorry.”

Right. That was why she was angry.

She crossed her arms over her chest and took in his disheveled appearance, trying desperately to understand why he was so out of sorts.

“What happened to you?”

Rowan loosed a long, heavy breath and stepped closer to her. “Aelin, gods, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, you are.” She agreed. “But, explain to me why.”

Rowan took another step towards her and she let him.

“I had a whole thing planned— I still do, kind of, but it’s basically ruined at this point—” Rowan started talking faster and Aelin struggled to keep up. “I planned an amazing surprise party for you, I spent weeks getting things organized. I had all our friends come out to help, they’re all still out at the park—I rented out the park—they’d better all still be there, anyway.”

He took a breath and Aelin’s anger slowly started to fade, but then she remembered sitting alone in her apartment for three hours and stared at him until he continued his explanation.

“There were supposed to be balloons, golden ones! And photos of you, and a cake, but all of it got ruined.” Rowan ran an angry hand through his hair. “Lorcan thought I asked him for a bounce castle— a bounce castle! Then the screen caught on fire, and then there was a mess up with the cake that you don’t even want to know about.”

He finally looked back at her, pleadingly, hoping she could understand how sorry he was. “But the worst part, which was one-hundred-percent my fault, was that I forgot to invite you to your own party.”

Aelin was wide-eyed by the end of his speech. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Rowan grabbed her hand and looked down at her with sorry eyes. “Please, forgive me.”

“Forgive you?”

His face crumpled and he leaned to press it into her shoulder. She heard him grumble, “Fuck. I ruined your birthday, I’m so sorry.”

Aelin pulled away to hold his face between her hands. She waited until his eyes opened to say, “Rowan, you planned that whole thing? For me?”

His brow furrowed as if he couldn’t understand why she would ask that. “Of course, I did. I know how much you wanted a surprise party, but—”

“But nothing.” She cut him off pressing her mouth firmly against his. Rowan was too surprised at her reaction to reciprocate, but she pulled back just as fast.

“Okay, yes, not inviting me to my own party was a bad move,” He winced. “But, everything else you did was amazing.” When he still looked skeptically at her she continued, “the rest of that stuff; the weather, the cake, the fire, Lorcan’s bad judgment—none of that was your fault.”

Rowan finally cracked a smile at the last bit.

“So,” he searched her face for any clues, “you’re not upset?”

Aelin laughed at pulled Rowan down for another kiss. This time, he eagerly returned it and wrapped one arm around her waist and the other moved so his hand could hold the back of her head. They stood wrapped up in each other for a minute, deepening the kiss before they both pulled back for air.

“I’m not mad. I was, before when I thought you’d ditched me on my birthday. But I’m not anymore now that I know you spent the day trying to make me happy."

Aelin pulled back further to give him a stern look. “But I will be angry if you don’t bring me to this party right now.”

He pulled her back into him and let out a relieved laugh.

“Let’s get the birthday girl to her party.”

***

The drive from their apartment to the park was filled with Rowan telling Aelin about everything that had gone wrong. His fingers intertwined with her over the middle console and she listened as he told her about the crazy day.

“Why someone would light the candles so early in the day is beyond me.” He grumbled and Aelin chuckled at the bitterness in his tone.

“I’m sure the slideshow would’ve been great.” She perked up. “Oh my gods, that was why Aedion was so weird at lunch.”

Rowan glanced side longed at her. “He was weird?”

“Yeah, real fidgety, wouldn’t always look me in the eye. He said it was because he was worried I wouldn’t like my present, but I knew that was a load of bullshit.” She laughed, remembering how relived his face had been when she offered that excuse.

Rowan rolled his eyes but watched as the sky began to clear.

“Good, the rains finally stopping. I told the others to finish putting up decorations if the weather cleared.”

“There’s more?” Aelin questioned, thinking of everything he’d already told her about.

“A bit. I gave Fen a list of stuff to buy, but knowing him, he picked up some things that I didn’t tell him to. So, who knows what we’ll see when we get there.” He groaned thinking about it, but Aelin just laughed.

“It’s a couple of decorations, Ro. I’m sure they’ve got it handled.”

When they finally pulled into the parking lot nearest the gazebo, Aelin and Rowan didn’t get out of the cart immediately. They watched the scene in front of them in bewilderment

Lorcan was throwing a rope over a tree branch—Aelin assumed it was because he was the tallest—tying one end to the trunk and the other end was attached to a large pinata.

“Is that…?” She was so confused about what was happening.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Fen?” Rowan seethed.

“Fen did that? Why would Fenrys buy an Alien pinata?” Aelin suddenly had more questions than answers.

Rowan rubbed his hands down his face, muffling his curses.

“Don’t ask.”

Aelin watched as Aedion picked up the stick and took a couple of practice swings.

“What? They’re gonna start without us?” Aelin pulled Rowan’s hand off his face and made him look at her. “Hey. I know this didn’t go like you’d planned, but it's still pretty great, and everyone is here and having a good time. And there’s cake, right?”

“There’s cake.”

Rowan refrained from reminding her that all the guests had trekked in and out of the rain that afternoon setting up and half the supplies were ruined or nonexistent. Apparently, she could see all that in his face though so Aelin leaned over and kissed him.

“Let’s go, come on.”

At some point during their conversation, Lysandra had found the blindfold and tied it around Aedion’s head. The rest of the group, minus Manon and Dorian who had snuck off somewhere she didn’t want to think about too much, stood around as Fenrys cheered and Aedion swung.

He missed the first time, but as he prepped himself to swing again, Aelin and Rowan climbed out of the car and walked toward the group.

“Aelin!” Fenrys called, eyes going wide as he called her name.

Everyone else whipped around to face her and Rowan and yell “Surprise!”

Unfortunately, Aedion still had a stick in his hands; and he quickly turned, it nailed Fenrys in the head.

Rowan stood there gaping as Fenrys let out a loud sound between a yelp and a groan, before falling to the ground, knocked out.

“Shit! Who’d I hit?” Aedion asked as he ripped off the blindfold, and tuned to see what—or, who—exactly he had swung at.

Mostly in shock, a little bit in amusement, everyone watched as Fenrys slowly groaned, lifted his head only to wince and bring his hand up to hold it, and opened his eyes.

“…Surprise”

***

“You know, this may be my most memorable birthday.” Aelin was perched on Rowan’s lap, eating a piece of the outer space-themed cake.

Her boyfriend groaned and pressed his face into her shoulder.

“I’ll take it. Memorable is better than disastrous.”

She threw her head back and laughed.

After Fenrys woke up, Yrene came over to check on him and make sure he was going to be alright. She didn’t think he had a concussion, but she put Aedion in charge of watching him. His punishment, apparently. They were currently at another table with Lysandra, Lorcan, and Elide.

Aelin looked over to the other end of the gazebo and watched as Chaol and Yrene sat with Dorian and Manon, the latter was trying her best to pretend she was interested in the conversation. By the heated looks she and Dorian were giving each other, Aelin didn’t think those two would be sticking around too long.

Turning back to Rowan, Aelin smiled.

“Thank you, Buzzard. I love it.” She grinned as he rolled his eyes, but he tightened his grip on her and pulled her face down to his.

“Happy Birthday, Fireheart.”

*****

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inkandpen22 · 3 years ago

Text

The Princess and The Pogue (pt. 5)

Pairing: JJ x Female!Reader / Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: swearing, violence, mild smut

Part Summary: You and Topper make amends. You two attend the end of the summer bonfire at the Boneyard. When JJ sees you guys together, things take a turn for the worst.

Masterlist

Somehow, after hours of crying, you finally fell asleep on your bed. You're not quite sure when it happened. Your covers tucked nicely under you, wet from your tears. When you first got home, you immediately snuck up to your room, far from your parents. You ripped off your Labor Day dress, having already hated it, but you also took your aggression out on it. You changed in one of Topper's T-shirts that you stole sometime last summer... when you were hooking up. You had never been so close. Morning, noon, and night you were together. You were practically dating but without the titles. Actually, it was far deeper than that. You spent almost every hour together, you co-existing. You were acting married even though you were only teenagers. You guys just loved each other that much. If someone had told you then that a year from now you two wouldn't be talking, you would've thought they were crazy.

“Y/N!" You hear Topper in your dreams. "Y/N!" He repeats, then you process it's real.

"What the-" You rise from your laid position and spot the boy climbing in from your window in the dark. "Topper?"

"Hey! Sorry to scare you," he apologizes as he rises to his feet from a crawling position on your floor.

"Did you climb through the window?" You question, this wouldn't be the first time, but it nevertheless is mind-boggling to you how he can climb up the side of your house.

"Yeah, can you tell your mom to not have the gardeners cut the vines so short?" He complains with a chuckle, brushing down his Patagonia shirt.

"What are you doing here?" You yawn. Considering what he said to you just hours before, you can't help but wonder why the fuck he's here.

"I... I need to apologize," he stammers, taking a seat on the edge of your bed just by your legs. "Y/N, I'm so sorry! I was such a jerk to you earlier. I shouldn't have-"

Before he can even finish, you leap at him, pulling him into a pleading hug. "Jesus, I'm so happy you're here," you whisper against his shoulder.

Topper instantly wraps his arms around you, engulfing you. He releases a deep breath, not having realized until this moment that he couldn't breathe the entire time you weren't talking. "I've missed you!" He pulls back and brushes his hand across your cheek, bringing your hair back. "I missed you the moment you left!" He wears a smile of relief as his eyes glisten with tears threatening to fall.

"Never let me go again," you mutter, almost as a beg.

"I could never. I didn't," Topper explains in a rushed whisper, gripping your waist. "As soon as you left I was a mess, ask the boys! They had to talk me off a cliff. I came by earlier but your parents said you were still at Kiara's... which I'm guessing you were with JJ and the other Pogues..." His face falters and he avoids your gaze at the mention of JJ.

You bring your hand up and tuck your fingers under his chin, guiding him to look at you. His eyes meet you with defeat and it nearly breaks your heart. "JJ drove me back to John B's, but I had Sarah drive me home almost as soon as we got there."

"So you and JJ..." He can't bring himself to ask.

"We..." Your brows scrunch together as you realize you never really discussed it. "You know what, I didn't even know." Enough about JJ, you're just happy that Topper is here! You felt so empty all day, in a constant state of panic. Now, you can exist again. "I'm just relieved you're here, Top. I've felt sick to my stomach all day," you release a breathless laugh of relief.

"No, yeah you're right, no one else matters," he shakes his head, reaching for your hand on his cheek and taking it in his hands. "As long as we're good then everything else will be okay." He lifts your hand to his lips and gives them a needy kiss.

"Stay with me?" You ask softly as he does.

You see him swallow hard, pausing with your hand his lips. His eyes flicker up to yours with a mixture of surprise and admiration. "I was hoping you'd ask." A faint grin appearing on the edge of his lips.

You and Topper get ready for bed as you used to every night when he snuck into your room a lot more. You've shared a bed since breaking off your... arrangement. There was the ski trip and Bermuda, but on random nights when he couldn't sleep or missed you, Topper would find himself in your bed. You pull back your blankets, knowing to get on the side closest to the window, away from the door. Topper didn't need to think twice to move to the opposite side because ever in the case of an emergency, he's the closest to the door. He's always thinking of how to keep you safe and satisfied. As you climb in, Topper begins to remove his t-shirt and shorts. You can't help but watch as his clothes become a pile on his side. It's months since you two have done anything, but that doesn't mean you haven't thought about it. There have been opportunities, but you always try to be responsible and remember why you stopped. Topper doesn't notice your staring and wondering what it would feel like to run your fingers down his chest. He climbs in next to you and immediately guides you into his side. Instantly, you feel secure and wanted, which is all anyone ever needs. He brushes his fingertips up and down your spine gently while you rest your cheek against his bare chest. It's not a new feeling to you, but it certainly never gets old.

"There's a bonfire tomorrow at the Boneyard, wanna go together?" The boy asks, glancing down at you.

"As long as Rafe doesn't go wild as he did," you snicker, but you mean what you say.

"Don't worry about him, we had a nice long chat once he sobered up this afternoon," he insinuates and you wish you would've seen Topper go off on him. Then, you comprehend that it might've only happened because Topper was mad at you and Rafe was getting the side effects.

"He doesn't deserve you, Top." You mutter, lifting your head off his chest to place a quick kiss on his chest.

"That's how I feel about myself with you," he confesses as he peers down at you. "You've always been there for me. When Sarah cheated, you were right there and pulled me through it. The way I spoke to you this morning. I-"

"No, no, don't say that," you shake your hand repeatedly as you cup his cheek as you did before. He leans into your touch and you find yourself wishing to be closer to him, as though that's even possible. "I love you, Top. You're my best friend. I'll always be there for you. You've helped me in more ways than you could ever realize."

"I love you too, Y/N," he smiles, leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead. "So much..." he whispers against your skin.

His eyes flicker down to your neck and you remember last night in the kitchen. You brush your hand across Topper's cheek, pulling his focus back to you. His eyes and features falter at the evidence of JJ on you.

"I'm here with you! Okay? It's you and me," you try to emphasize.

He nods slowly, still feeling an ache in his chest, but relieved to have you in his arms. You're it for Topper. He would do anything for you, drop anyone for you, nothing is too much. You alone are what drives him and are the reason he wakes up in the morning. He would never admit it aloud out of guilt, but when he was with Sarah, he always compared her to you. He doesn't fully know why he dated her, maybe because he felt you slipping away when you realized that you no longer wanted to hook up. He couldn't lose you so he tried to replace you, but he quickly realized that was impossible. No one could be you.

_____________________________________

Topper woke up before you and let you sleep, pondering having you in his arms. Your legs entangled in his, your arm across his chest along with your cheek. In the light, he finally notices you wearing his shirt. A faint smile forms on his lips at the sight. He has you here with him, not with JJ or Rafe or anyone else who's pining after you. You're his.

You've spent the entire day together on Topper's boat. It couldn't have been more perfect. The hours slipped by without either of you two noticing. Topper has been energized and enthusiastic about everything, all because he has you back. Around ten, you and Topper arrive at the Boneyard for the final bonfire of the summer. You wear distressed white short shorts over a black tank bodysuit with a matching black Chanel belt. All finished with the pearl earrings Topper gave you for Christmas last year.

Topper keeps you close, his arm around your waist as you walk toward the crowd of teenagers. "I'm so lucky."

You peer up at the boy with a giggle. "Why?"

"I have the most beautiful girl in the OBX at my side," he flirts.

You turn your attention ahead, struggling to hide your blushing. "You sound like Rafe."

Topper steps around to walk backward in front of you. He locks his fingers through the loops of your shorts and pulls you into his chest. "At least he and I agree on something." He grins, resting his hands on your hips.

You playfully roll your eyes but find it hard to hide your amusement. "You're such a cheese ball."

"I'm gonna go get us some drinks," he announces before planting a quick peck to your temple.

You nod, stepping back toward the shore as Topper holds onto your hands until the last minute. "Okay, I'll find us a spot by the water."

"Be right there," he winks, offering you a mischievous smirk.

For a second, you watch Topper jog off to the stack of coolers by the cement wall. Is it possible to be too dependent on someone? You know that if you and Topper stopped talking completely that you wouldn't physically die, but emotionally it would destroy you. You smile, knowing that you two will grow closer because of your fight. It taught you a valuable lesson. It took losing Topper for you to fully comprehend how much you need him. Turning on your heels, you head toward a log facing the shore. It's far enough from the chaos to give you and Topper some privacy, but close enough to still be included in the festivities. You two are both social butterflies, but today has been about you two and you want to keep it that way. You sit down on the log, content watching the small waves crashing against the sand just a few feet away. The light of the moon shimmers on the water, making it looks like lines of crystal.

"Want a drink, Princess?" A familiar voice asks over your shoulder

You glance up to see a

"Wow, you look extra Kooky tonight," he remarks under his breath as he brings his cup to his mouth.

You glare at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's play a game!" He blurts out. "How many items that Y/N is wearing are designer?"

You roll your eyes, realizing how drunk he is because JJ isn't like this. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Just the right amount!" He answers swiftly before moving on. "My guess is all of them, but I can't be too sure. You'll have to take off your clothes so I can check what's underneath."

"You wanna sit for a second? Maybe cool down a bit?" You offer, gesturing to the space beside you.

His expression shifts from carefree to hurt. "Why do you care?"

"JJ..." You sigh, peering up at the boy with immense guilt.

"What?!" He tosses his arms up at his sides, losing some of his drink in the process. "You come here with Prince Charming, acting all coupley!"

"It's not like that-" You try to explain calmly.

"Not according to Sarah!" He counters in a shout. You nervously check over at the crowd, making sure no one heard him burst. "You two planning your next trip to Bermuda?!"

"What!" You whip your head back around toward JJ. "What did Sarah tell you?!" You fly up to your feet, stepping toward him defensively.

"Did you sleep with him?!" JJ yells again and you're sure others heard him this time.

"Excuse me?" You gasp at his audacity.

"After you left John B's, did you go and find him?!" He elaborates with a breathless laugh. He steps closer to you, getting in your face. He doesn't care if others listen or if he's making you uncomfortable. "After you kissed me and slept in my bed, did you go and sleep with Topper?!"

Abruptly, you feel a hand pressed to your back and see JJ being shoved backyard.

"Hey! Back off man!" Topper growls, suddenly at your side.

JJ catches himself from falling after a second of stumbling. "Oh and here he is now!" He laughs, tossing his cup to the side. "Your knight in shining armor!"

"I think you should go, man!" Topper warns between his teeth.

Topper's arm slips around you and grips your waist protectively. You watch JJ as he glares at Topper's arm around you.

"Don't "man" me, alright! Touch me again and you'll lose a hand!" JJ threatens.

"JJ!" John B calls for his friend as he runs toward you from down the beach. Kiara, Pope, and Sarah are close behind him. When JJ doesn't react. John B shouts again. JJ! Come on, let's go back over to the fire."

"No! Not until she answers me!" JJ screams, yanking his arm free.

Pope, Kiara, and Sarah watch in distress as JJ and Topper go back and forth. None of you are sure what to do.

"Answer what!" Topper barks, stepping toward JJ defensively. You grab his arm, keeping him back.

"Oh, I'm sorry! Is your name Y/N?" JJ laughs mockingly. "That Kook Academy doesn't do you guys any favors for your intelligence does it?"

Pope steps around to block off his friend. "Just cool down, buddy!"

"I knew you were Kook, Y/N, but I would've never marked you as slut," JJ shouts at you over Pope's shoulder.

Topper breaks free of your hold, charging at JJ. John B grabs Pope and yanks him out of Topper's way. Now block-less, JJ runs at Topper. His face is red with aggravation. You could've never imagined seeing JJ look so enraged. The person he was with you the other night was entirely different. He was kind, gentle, understanding. You don't recognize him. Topper shoves JJ hard enough to make the boy fall back onto the sand.

Topper tackles JJ into the ankle-deep water, immediately punching him in the jaw. The two grunt, struggling to get the upper hand. John B attempts to pull Topper off.

"Topper!" You yell desperately.

"JJ!" Kiara yells from the sidelines.

"Enough!" John B barks at the pair as Pope runs to assist.

The crowd by the bonfire starts to figure out what's going on a few yards away and rush over to watch. Pogues and Kooks each cheer for their fighter. Kelce and Rafe show up, pushing through the crowd to help out their friend.

"Topper! Get off of him!" You plead as your best friend continues to press JJ's head under the water.

JJ manages to punch Topper in the cheek, making the boy lose his balance for a second. Despite hating each other, Kelce and Rafe try to help out John B and Pope.

"Guys! Quit!" Kelce commands, pulling at Topper.

"Top, you'll kill him!" Sarah screams from beside Kiara.

You want to go stand with them, but at this moment you're not sure if they want anything to do with you. Sarah and Kiara are Pogues. You're not just Y/N right now, their friend. You're a Kook during this Kook vs. Pogue fight.

The boys manage to yank Topper off of JJ. The blonde Pogue flies up from beneath the surface, gasping for air. Topper falls back onto the sand in a seated position. Topper continues to fist JJ's collar and as he's shoved off, ripping JJ's shirt down the front. You notice the large purple and blue bruise on JJ's chest and freshly heeling cut down his neck to his collar bone. JJ frantically reaches behind himself, searching for something. Then, things take a turn for the worst when he whips out a gun. The crowd that watched the fight with amusement now scatters in a panic.

"Woah! Woah! Woah!" Topper's eyes grow wide as he starts to scoot back, holding up a hand pleadingly.

Kelce and Rafe bolt away, John B and Pope rush out words, trying to calm JJ down.

"JJ!" John B yells at his friend. "What the hell?!"

"Oh my god!" Sarah's hands fly up to her mouth.

"That's right! Bet you didn't think I had that did ya?" JJ grins wickedly at Topper.

"Topper!" Kelce attempts to collect his friend but halts when JJ points the gun at him.

"Everyone back off!" JJ orders, rising to his feet, returning the gun's point toward Topper.

Without a second thought, you sprint across the sand. You slide in front of Topper, the waves splashing against you.

"Y/N! No!" Topper screams as soon as you land in JJ's path.

"Y/N!" Sarah and Kiara shout your name in unison.

JJ hesitates when his eyes land on you. You see him lower the gun a little and Kelce takes the opportunity to pull Topper from the scene.

"JJ please..." you beg of him.

Your heart is racing, but you're certain JJ won't hurt you. Despite his evident pain and anger toward you, he won't do it. You remember the boy from the other night, the one who spoke to you with such admiration. That boy wouldn't harm you. You know he's in there beneath this tough facade.

"Y/N! Come on!" Rafe wraps his fingers around your arm and drags you away.

While he's distracted by you, John B swiftly steals the gun from JJ's hand and begins ushers him away to their circle of friends. The Pogues swarm JJ, all talking over each other.

Rafe frantically cups your face, checking on you. "Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?"

"I'm fine..." You mutter, glancing over your shoulder, watching John B talk to JJ down the beach.

"No cuts? Scrapes?" Rafe panics.

"No..." You shake your head absent-mindedly as you’re too distracted by observing JJ.

"Are you okay?" Kiara checks on JJ worriedly as you watch from a distant.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine!" JJ rushes out, still agitated. "Fuck this man!" He swears, then his eyes land on yours with surprise. He hand’t expected you to be listening or even care.

You two stare each other from across the beach. Guilt consumes his features and sympathy breaks you apart as your vision lands on the wounds covering JJ’s torso. Rafe brings you over to Kelce who has Topper catching his breath against a tree.

"Dude's fucking nuts, man!" Kelce curses, all fidgety beside you.

As soon Topper sees you coming, he pushes himself off the tree and rushes to you. His arms engulf you as he presses you to his chest.

He squats down to be at your level, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re so stupid, Y/N! You just jumped in front of a gun! Why would you do that?!”

“Because it was pointed at you!” You justify desperately.

Topper's eyes soften. “You’d risk your life for me?! Are you crazy?!” A soft, breathless, laugh escapes him.

“Of course I would you idiot!” You remark with frustration. How could he possibly think you wouldn't? You'd do anything for the boy.

“God, I love you so much," he mutters, placing a hand on either side of your head and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?” You check his body in a panic.

“Yes, yes I’m okay!” He assures you. “Let’s get out of here before things get crazy again."

Your eyes grow wide. “Agreed!”

He looks over at you and Topper doting on each other. It makes him even more pissed off. "Great! Go baby him! Tend to your Kook Prince, you Princess!" He yells across the beach.

John B covers his friend's mouth. "Shut up, JJ!"

"Jesus JJ!" Pope huffs under his breath.

You and Topper snap your heads in JJ's direction. As a result, Topper pulls you into his side securely.

“We'll text you guys later!” Kelce calls out to you both as he and Rafe start backing toward their cars.

“Stay close to me,” Topper slips his into yours, giving it a tight squeeze. “I’m never letting that psycho Pogue anywhere near you again!”

When you arrive at Topper's car, he opens your door for you. He keeps a sharp eye on the Pogues that remain on the beach. When John B or any of them glance our way, he glares daggers in their direction. Once you climb in, Topper reaches in and begins to buckle your seat belt as though you were a toddler in a car seat.

“Topper I think I can put on my own seat belt,” you

“I know, Sweetheart. I’m just..." he stops his action, kneeling beside you. "I guess I’m still a little scared. I was so afraid when that gun was pointed at you, I... I couldn’t breathe. I can never lose you, Y/N,” he rushes out, becoming emotional.

Your emotions become bottled up as a lump in your throat. You rub your fingers through Topper's hair and plant a kiss on his forehead. His hands glide around your waist to your back, hugging you needly. His head rests against your chest as you cradle it.

Abruptly, he breaks from you as a thought pops into his mind. “Promises me that if there’s any dangerous situation like that again, you run!" He instructs sternly. "You don’t do anything reckless for my sake!”

You shake your head frantically, already rejecting his words. “You would’ve done the same thing for me! You basically did!” You justify.

“I’m seriously Y/N!" Topper stands his ground. Eagerly, he takes removes your hands from his hair and squeezes them in his own. "I could never live with myself if something happened to you! Never again!”

You want to argue with him on it, claim that if he's going to be protective of you that he must understand that you'll be the same. Yet, nothing escapes you. Instead, you simply nod, not wanting to fight at this moment.

He nods, satisfied by your compliance. “I love you, you know that right?”

You nod. “I love you too, Topper."

_________________________________________

JJ fell into a dark abyss of self-deprecation and destruction after the bonfire. The Pogues all drove back to John B's, but as soon as they got there JJ disappeared as he did the day before. All they can do is wonder where he goes. If they knew that he was at the bar searching for his dad half drunk, they would be stopping a second fight for the day.

JJ can't help but feel responsible for it all. One minute he has you. You're right there. The next, you're gone, in the arms of Topper of all people. He wants to know if anything from the other night was real for you. Was he just a game to you? You're the Princess of the OBX, you can have anything you want, including JJ if you asked. Is that what happened? You wanted him for a night and then got bored and went back to your fellow Kook. He wishes he hadn't let you down. He wishes you were here. He wishes that he could hold you again and feel you in his arms. Waking up next to you was the best moment in his life and he fears he'll never feel that sort of peace again.

______________________________________________________

You Topper spend the night at his house, too afraid to be apart. Late into the night, Topper struggles to fall asleep as he holds you. Your back is pressed to his chest as his hands rest against you underneath his shirt you're wearing. Every time he tries to close his eyes, he envisions what could've happened tonight. You could've been shot. Topper could never live with himself if anything happened to you. Moving slowly to not wake you, he rolls onto his back and reaches toward the nightstand for his phone. He begins to scroll through social media and text messages, responding in the group chat between you, Kelce, Rafe, and himself. You've all agreed to go to lunch tomorrow at the Club with some other Kooks from the bonfire.

You stir next to Topper, making the boy pause for a second. When you roll over still asleep and curl into him, a wave of relief rushes over Topper.

“Go back to sleep,” you yawn.

Topper jumps at the sudden sound of your voice. “Shit... sorry Beautiful, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’ve been awake. I could feel you overthinking," you whisper, scooting closer into his side.

“You could feel me thinking?” He repeats with a hint of confusion.

You hum, as it makes perfect sense to you. You hear the sound of Topper pushing his phone back onto the side table. He rests his now free hand over your arm that lays across him. After a couple of minutes, you can still feel the tension radiating from him.

“I’m okay, Topper,” you tell him to ease his nerves.

“I know, I can’t just help but review the course of events in my head. What if he didn’t hesitate? What if his hand slipped? What if-“

“Enough!” You fly up to prop yourself up on your elbow. You stare down at the worried boy with sympathy. "You’re okay! I’m okay! What’s done is done and all we can do is be safe from now on. We’re safe!” You reach up and comb your fingers through the side of his hair. “Okay? It’s just you and me here.”

Impulsively, Topper extends his neck and slams his lips to yours. You sit stunned as the kiss rides out its course. You and Topper go months without anything intimate and within two days, he's kissed you twice, breaking every ruled you two have made. When you don't react, Topper breaks from you with a startled expression, as if he wasn't comprehending his actions.

“Y/N, I'm sorry! I-“

Before Topper can finish his sentence, you press your lips to his hungrily. You're not sure why, but you need him. Topper is your kryptonite, the bittersweet reality in your life. Forgetting his regret, Topper immediately sits up, resting against his headboard. You take the opportunity to straddle his torso and he keeps you steady with his hands on your hips. It's been ages since you've made out, but it's like riding a bike for you two. You know what each other likes and what gets the other going.

"I've missed you so much," Topper whispers against your jawline as he moves down to leave marks on your neck. He aggressively attacks your sensitive skin where evidence of JJ remains. Deep down in the back of your mind, you know Topper is parking his territory for JJ to see later. Your skin has become a battleground for the two. "I've missed this."

"Me too," you pant, silently wondering if you truly mean it in the same sense as him.

Though you chose to kiss Topper back and want to, you can’t understand why JJ’s face enters your mind the moment you do. As you deepen the kiss with Topper, you chase the sensation he’s giving you. You're addicted to the way he makes you feel, it's familiar and reminds you of a time when you were carefree. Yet, your thoughts remain fixated on JJ. You want Topper, but all you can think about is JJ.

__________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly@cc13723things @hockeybabe87 @jolomez

#topper obx #topper outer banks #topper imagine #topper #john b routledge #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank imagines #jj #kiara #sarah cameron #pope #outer banks

151 notes · View notes

hangovercurse · 4 years ago

Text

Nerd Love

After years of working together, Pete still manages to break you.

Request: “Hi! Can I get a Pete imagine where you guys work on SNL together and you have few skits together and during one of them you can’t stop laughing”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 2237

“Live from New York, it’s Saturday night!” You hear Kate and the host of the week announce before Lorne motions that the cameras had cut for commercial break. You and Pete had a sketch together in exactly 12 minutes and 45 seconds, and you were trying to cool your nerves.

You loved your job, writing on SNL was something you had dreamed of since you were in middle school, and now it was your reality. Of course, it was hard, the hours were long and the work was demanding. But having Pete by your side made it all bearable.

You had met on your first day, getting hired one season after him. You two were deemed the “babies” of the cast because you were the youngest, so naturally you got paired up. A lot.

At first it bothered you that you only really ever worked with one person, but after your first few episodes you grew to love Pete. Your energies matched so well, and whenever you wrote together you easily built of each other.

After 6 years of working on the show together, you had become really close friends. You were with him through all of his hard times, and you were one of the few people he let visit him in rehab. In return, he stuck by your side through everything, even when the internet tried to cancel you for an interview that was taken completely out of context.

You couldn’t pinpoint when, but at some point, you had developed real feelings for him. Obviously, you’d never tell him, not wanting to mess up your amazing friendship. But they still flourished, especially when you would be up until 6 am writing sketches and goofing around in the writer’s room. Of course, the comments from fans didn’t help your feelings either. They loved you guys. Anytime you posted Pete on your social media, they were all over it.

But you guys had denied the dating rumors countless times since they’d started 5 years ago. Even though having to hear the words “we’re just friends” over and over killed you.

You were lost in thought when Pete came up behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. “Ready bookworm?” He asked, moving to stand next to you.

“Only if you are, Mr. jock-man.” You laughed, rolling your eyes.

The sketch you and Pete had written was a young couple on a really fancy date to celebrate their 6-month anniversary. Your character was going on the date with Kyle Mooney’s character. Both of you were the stereotypical nerd couple with glasses, suspenders, and everything else. Pete was playing your waiter, who obviously did not give a shit about his job. He was the stereotypical jock character. Your character was super attracted to him and kept paying attention to him. He loved the attention and would do things like show you his (reaaaallllyyy) lame tattoos, tell you about sports, and everything that nerds don’t like. Kyle obviously didn’t like that and kept trying to get your attention in the weirdest of ways.

It was pretty funny in rehearsals, almost too funny. Seeing Pete act so out of character was hilarious to you and having to overdramatically flirt with him felt ridiculous. You barely made it through in rehearsals without laughing, so you had to hope you could do it on stage.

“Y/N, Pete, and Kyle. You’re up.” The stagehand told you, and you grabbed Kyle’s hand, walking to the stage.

The sketch started and you were doing okay. You and Kyle had your conversation about your anniversary and your favorite Star Wars movies. But then Pete walked onto the stage in his ridiculous waiter getup. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top and wrinkled, his black pants hanging low on his hips, and his apron only half tied. You bit your tongue to keep yourself together.

“Welcome to White Oyster, what do you want?” He said in a very bored voice. You acted interested, eyes raking up and down him. You felt ridiculous and had to swallow a laugh.

Kyle pushed his glasses up on his nose, “me and my girlfriend are here for our six-month anniversary, so we would like the couple’s special.” His nerd voice was incredible.

“Okay. Anything else?” Pete’s voice remained monotone.

You bit your lip, “do you recommend anything else?” You asked, trying to sound nerd-sexy.

You could see Pete struggling to contain a smile. “I mean, whatever. Food here is shitty anyways.”

Kyle’s mouth gaped, “can you not speak like that around my girlfriend, please?”

The sketch continued with you making flirty remarks towards Pete, him being very bored and unaware, and Kyle trying to direct your attention. After your second attempt at flirting with him, you could feel yourself breaking down.

“So, I was wondering. Do you have any tattoos?” You asked him, your elbow on the table, twirling a piece of your hair in your finger.

Pete nodded, pulling up his shirt to show the big MOM tattoo on his side that was drawn on earlier. You felt a giggle slip out, completely out of character.

You tried to cover it up and continue, “wow, you really must love your mom, huh?” Another chuckle leaving your mouth, “that’s kinda hot.”

Kyle looked at you with wide eyes, “Linda!” He screamed the name of your character

Pete shrugged, “Nah, I did it myself. It says WOW, like world of warcraft.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell out of your mouth, and one followed from Pete. This was a disaster. You tried to regain your composure, knowing Kyle was probably really frustrated right now. “I just think tattoos are so cool. You don’t have any, do you Darren?” You asked Kyle’s character, eyes narrowing at him. You heard a chuckle from Pete beside you and you bit your cheek.

Kyle faked looking flustered, “N-no. But I have all 7 of the Harry Potter books and 4 collectors wands.”

Pete nodded, “Oh cool, I have a Harry Potter tattoo.” He pulled up his arm to show his real tattoo.

Your eyes went wide, “Wow. That’s way cooler.” You batted your eyes up at Pete, making him break even more. Watching his face go red and his mouth lifting up with laughter made you squeeze your eyes to hide your laughter.

“But babe!” Kyle was starting to break now too. “You love my Harry Potter stuff!”

“It’s cool, I guess.”

The sketch continued with you and Pete laughing anytime you looked at each other, your energies feeding into one another. You both tried really hard to keep it together, but something about flirting with Pete made you so giddy inside that you couldn’t help it.

Eventually the scene ended and the lights went down. You knew the cameras probably caught an extra few seconds after the close of the sketch, meaning they caught you and Pete breaking down into fits of laughter.

You somehow made it offstage, faces red. “We’re so gonna get fired.” He said through giggles.

“I’m so sorry,” You started, trying to take breaths through your laughs. “I don’t know why I couldn’t hold it together.”

“You looked ridiculous.” Pete laughed, pointing at your glasses.

After the show you made your way back to your dressing room, changing into your day clothes and getting ready to leave. You finally checked your phone, which had been off the duration of the show.

Your twitter feed was filled with clips of you and Pete laughing through the sketch.

They’re so cute together #goals

Love their friendship

Get you someone who looks at you like Pete looks at Y/N

Poor Kyle ☹

The way they can’t get through a skit because they’re too in love

And they say they aren’t dating…

Can’t believe the unprofessionalism

Pete and Y/N are dating… no one can convince me otherwise

The flirting!!! The looks!!!

I would like Pete and Y/N to get married and adopt me please

Your heart melted at all the comments, a sigh leaving your mouth. You watched the video and noticed the way he looked at you anytime you broke character, it was the same way you looked at him all the time.

You shook your head, convincing yourself you were imagining it. You couldn’t afford to think like that, it would ruin your friendship.

A knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, wanna go grab a drink with me?” It was Pete.

“You can come in.” You called, and he did so. “I don’t know, I was thinking I might just go home. I’m pretty tired.” You really just wanted to go home and sort through your feelings for the umpteenth time that month.

He nodded, watching as you tossed various items in your bag, “you were great tonight.”

You giggled, “Pete I barely made it through our sketch, it was a disaster.”

He rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were at your vanity. “I messed up too, but it was fine. No one noticed.”

You leaned into the mirror, fixing your makeup slightly. Pete was very close to you, watching you through said mirror. “Trust me, Petey. Everyone noticed.” You laughed, standing up straight again.

Your back was inches from his chest, and you could suddenly feel a different sort of tension in the air. But you didn’t make any move to shift away from him. He gave you a quizzical look through the mirror and you took out your phone, turning to him.

You took in a breath at the proximity. You weren’t close enough to kiss or anything, but his chest was only a few inches away from you. You shook away the thoughts you were having and opened your twitter, letting him scroll through the tweets. He chuckled and shook his head as he read them, eventually handing you your phone back.

“People really like us together.” He said, smiling.

You rolled your eyes, “They have for the past like, 6 years, Petey. We’re funny.” You smiled moving to turn back to grab your bag, but his hand grabbed your hip and made you stay facing him.

Your mind went blank at his touch, trying to figure out if this was real or if you were just really really tired. “That’s not what I meant.” He said, quieter.

You laughed, looking away from his eyes, not really knowing what to say. “I mean, people have always thought… stuff like that.” You mumbled, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Pete’s eyes were searching your face, taking in every detail. “Have you ever thought about, like, why people think we’re…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was implying.

You blushed, looking down at your toes. “I mean, I guess we’re together a lot and we get on well. People just like to make assumptions, I guess.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure it doesn’t help that I can never keep my eyes off of you, even when the cameras are rolling.” He said, a chuckle following.

You smiled, looking back up at him, your brain trying to process what he just said. After a few moments of silence, you spit out a “why are you bringing this up?” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper.

He sighed, hand moving from your hip and rubbing his face lightly. “I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking a lot.” You gave him a look that told him to continue. “I mean, I think it’s kind of obvious that I like you.”

Your mouth dropped, “obvious? Pete Davidson you have been far from obvious about your feelings.” You really thought you were dreaming, hearing those words from him was just impossible.

“Are you kidding me? How many sketches do I have to write just so I can flirt with you? Have you not picked up on the fact that literally every sketch I write for you to be in we’re playing some sort of couple?” He laughed, stepping towards you, and grabbing your hips again. “Dude, and I thought I was oblivious to this shit.”

“In my defense I’ve spent the past like 6 years trying to convince myself you didn’t feel the same way.” You said, a smile crossing your face.

Pete rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you, “now why would you wanna do that?” There was a playful tone in his voice, but you couldn’t help your serious answer.

“Because I didn’t wanna read the signs wrong and mess up our friendship.” You sighed.

Pete’s smile softened, “Y/N I literally want to kill you right now for making me wait this long.” You giggled, leaning closer to him. “But you’re cute so I guess I can let it slide.”

“If I kiss you will it make up for it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes.

Pete pretended to think about it, “hmmm, maybe. You should definitely give it a shot to see.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. Your lips touched his and it was like everything in the universe suddenly aligned. His mouth moved against yours in soft, perfect motions. His hands pulled you closer into him, your bodies molding together like it was meant to be.

When you finally pulled away for breath, he pressed his forehead against yours, a wide grin on his face. “So, about those drinks?”

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fluff

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gamergirl929 · 4 years ago

Text

More Than Just A Matter Of Security (Kelley O’Hara x Reader)

Anonymous Request: A Kelley O’Hara one when reader is like a new security guard or a personal body guard to to the team so they start flirting and the team teases Kelley about it so out of sexual frustration they hook up in some random ass places.

This fic is INCREDIBLY long, so buckle up.

WARNING TONS OF SMUT BELOW.

Kelley’s about to speak when you come into view, strutting towards the team, wear all black, your shirt tucked into your pair of black pants, topped off by a pair of black Nike shoes.

“DAMNNNNNN, the new guard got CAKE .” Sonnett mumbles, earning a nudge from Lindsey.

“Stop being a pervert.” She mumbles, and the defender snorts.

“Tall order Horan, tall order.”

Kelley watches a cocky smirk spread across your face when your eyes lock with hers, a single brow arched as your eyes shamelessly rake down the defender’s front.

“Ohhhhhhhhh...” Emily teases as you walk past her, turning around so you can walk backwards, your eyes, now running down Kelley’s back.

“I think the new guard thinks KELLEY’S got cake.” Emily snickers, earning a punch on the shoulder from the defender who turns towards you.

You grin, your tongue trapped between your teeth as you give her a wink.

“Looks like SOMEONE was appreciating the view.” Megan smirks, giving the defender a nudge, the woman’s cheeks flushing.

“Shut up.”

***

It’s later that day that you approach her, a smirk on your face.

“I figured I’d come and introduce myself, considering you can’t keep your eyes off me.” You smirk splits into a cocky grin and Kelley’s brows arch.

“Oh, I can’t keep my eyes off you?” She scoffs. “It seems the other way around to me.”

You hum, shrugging.

“I mean every time my eyes are on you, yours are on me.”

Kelley turns towards you with a smirk, sizing you up with her eyes.

“I can’t help it, it’s hard NOT to stare at you.” She winks and you chuckle, your cheeks flushing.

“I’m Kelley.” She grins, a dazzling smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“Well Kelley...” You take a step closer, the woman standing her ground, a few inches between the two of you.

“I’m Y/N. It looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” You bite your bottom lip and Kelley smirks.

“I can’t say I mind that.” She winks, walking away.

Unashamedly you watch her go, your eyes on her ass, that is until she glances over her shoulder, smirking.

“Oh, I can’t say I mind either.”

Meanwhile on field, the rest of the team is watching the interaction between the two of you, eyes wide.

“They’ll totally hook up in the first month, bet.” Megan snaps her fingers and Ashlyn turns to her.

“I say 2.”

The two share a glance, eyes narrowed before Megan sticks her hand out, Ashlyn taking it with her large gloved one.

“You’re on.”

***

“So that’s what you’re here to do?” Kelley asks as she moves to the sidelines, standing beside you with a smirk.

“Stand here and look pretty?” You ask and she rolls her eyes.

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re cocky?” She asks and you chuckle.

“Loads of times.”

Kelley stands beside you for a minute, crossing her arms across her chest and puffing her chest out.

“In all honesty, I don’t know why your team needs me when they have you.” You grin, the defender turning to you with a laugh.

“Huh?”

“Everyone knows how spicy you can be.” You grin and she rolls her eyes.

“I’m not that spicy.” She mumbles, throwing her hands up in the air when the ref doesn’t call a foul.

“What in the fuc-

Kelley freezes, turning to you with narrowed brown orbs.

“Shut up.”

“Did say anything...”

***

The longer you travel with the team, the closer you get with all of them, considering you’re not only the same age, but have the same kind of humor as well. If you were being honest though, you’d grown the closest with Kelley.

Of course, the two of you flirted like a couple of teenagers, always trying to one up each other, but it had never went passed that.

You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t feel anything for the defender, her smile making your heart skip a beat, but there was something else that she made you feel, and that... THAT had been sexual frustration, the woman going out of her way to tease you, a flirtatious smirk on her face every time she saw you.

The team had accepted you as one of their own, considering you acted like a number of them all rolled into one person, inviting you to movie nights and such.

“What’s on your mind tough guy?”

You jump at the sound of Emily’s voice and you smirk, the woman standing beside you with her arms crossed across her chest.

“Straighten out your back a little.” You hum, the blonde doing as you ask, now at her full height.

“Perfect.” You smirk, noticing the fans snapping pictures of the two of you as the game goes on, on the pitch.

“Don’t show me up too much, I need the job.” You smirk and the blonde huffs.

“I can’t stand straight too long, hurts my spine.” She whines and you grin.

“Your spine damaged by years of bad posture?” You tease and Emily gasps.

“I feel so attacked right now.”

You give the blonde a nudge, missing the small smile on Kelley’s face, the defender’s brown orbs off of the game and on you.

“Be careful O’Hara, your crush is showing.” Alex teases, the defender pouting.

“Shut up.”

***

“Damn.” Kelley mumbles at practice when she spots you, significantly dressed down from your usual choice of clothes.

“I can’t say I’m against you wearing these more often.” Kelley sticks a finger beneath the hem of your muscle tee and gives it a snap, your heart stopping in your chest.

“I wouldn’t have worn it if it was cooler, so sorry I have to distract you for the day.” You smirk, the woman’s cheeks flushing from more than the heat.

“Oh, you think I’m distracted by you?” She asks and you grin, taking a step towards you.

“I think you are.” You lick your lips.

Kelley smirks, a brow arched.

“And I think you’re distracted just as much by me...” Her brown orbs flick from your eyes, to your lips and back.

You shrug, grinning.

“Maybe.”

Kelley opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off by the sound of a whistle, the defender jumping. She clears her throat, sending you one last glance, a grin splitting her face in half.

“Maybe you distract me too.”

Your eyes widen as you watch her go, the woman grinning cockily as she moves towards your teammates.

You clear your throat, glancing around as you do your best to ignore the dull ache between your legs.

***

Weeks and weeks of teasing have Kelley on edge, the woman’s core aching every time she sees your cocky smirk and twinkling Y/E/C orbs.

“What are you doing?” You snort when Kelley abruptly grabs your wrist the second the two of you get in the backstage of the arena.

The defender glances around before she opens a random door, when she’s satisfied no one will see the two of you and that the room is empty she shoves you inside, locking the door behind her.

“Umm, why’d you lock the door?” You ask with an arched brow, but inside your absolutely buzzing, wondering if what you’ve been thinking about was about to happen.

“Because you’re going to make me cum.” She says a matter of factly and your eyes widen.

Before you realize what’s happening, you’re shoved back against the wall behind you, the defender cupping your cheeks as she pulls you down into a kiss.

The defender sighs as your lips meet, Kelley’s lips prodding at your bottom lip until your lips part.

You let out a growl when your tongues meet for the first time, Kelley letting out a moan as her hands move to untuck your shirt from your pants.

Kelley inhales sharply when you push her back against the opposite wall, your hands running down her body and palming her through her shorts.

“Fuck.” She snarls, her eyes screwed shut as you rub your palm against her, the woman’s hips rolling.

Kelley’s breath hitches as your strokes pick up speed, but seconds later your freeze, burying your face in Kelley’s neck as you let out a groan, the defender stroking you through your black jeans.

“Oh fuck.” You growl as you rock into her, your own hand again moving against the front of her shorts.

You let out a pitiful whine when Kelley’s hand leaves you entirely, but then she’s tugging you forwards, burying her face in your neck as she straddles on of your legs, her leg slipping between your own.

Kelley’s fingers prod into your back as the two of you rut into one another, grunting and groaning into each other’s necks.

The sound of Kelley’s soft sighs and moans in your ear drags you closer and closer to the edge, your rhythm sloppy.

“Are you gonna cum?” You whisper in Kelley’s ear and she nods.

“Ye-Yeah, I’m...” Kelley’s mouth hangs open, brows furrowing as she lets out a lengthy cry, muffled by your shoulder.

You let out a raspy groan in her neck as you orgasm, quicker than you ever had before, but in this case, it was because this had been building up for months.

Your hips soon still, as do Kelley’s the two of you panting heavily into each other’s necks.

“Yeah, this is going to become a regular thing.” Kelley mumbles into your neck and you snort.

“Has my vote.”

***

“Shit.” Kelley mumbles as she gets on the bus, glancing over her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Alex asks, brows furrowed and the defender huffs.

“I left something in the locker room...” She rolls her eyes. “I have to go back and get it.”

“I’m sure we can wait?” Alex shrugs and Kelley shakes her head.

“I’m sure Y/N can give me a ride to the hotel, but thanks.” Kelley slips off the bus, missing the way Megan glances at Ashlyn, the two grinning.

“Oh, I bet she can give her a ride back, pay the fuck up.” Ashlyn holds a hand out to Megan who lets out a growl, fishing her wallet out of her bag.

“You don’t know that that’s what they’re doing...” Ali mumbles, but the second the words leave her mouth everyone turns to her, brows arched.

“Yeah, I realized it was dumb after I said it.”

***

“How’d you get them to leave without you?” You chuckle as Kelley rolls her hips into you, the defender laughing as you roll the two of you over, her legs wrapping around your middle.

“Told them you’d give me a ride.” She smirks and you grin, a brow arched.

“Ohhh, I can definitely do that.”

Kelley rolls her eyes.

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“Ask nicely.”

You grunt when Kelley bends her leg, rubbing it against the crotch of your pants.

“Shit fuck.” You shudder, eyes slammed shut as Kelley watches you with a grin.

“Am I asking nicely enough?” She teases, her tongue trapped between her teeth and you nod.

“Ye-Yeah you’re asking nice enough.” You grunt, licking your lips.

You shift, your thigh against the apex between Kelley’s thigh as the two of you roll your hips the car shifting slightly as the two of you hump like a couple of teenagers in the back seat of a car.

“Y/N...” Kelley moans and your eyes widen, the sound of the defender moaning your name pushing you over the edge.

“Kelley...” You groan into her neck, the defender climaxing moments later with a loud cry, your hips slowing after a few moments.

The windows have indeed fogged up from the after practice exercise you’d done in the backseat of the car and you snicker.

“You breathe too heavy.”

“Shut up asshole.”

***

“Jesus Christ, you’re practically salivating.” Megan smacks your chest and you scoff.

“Over what?”

“Ummm, Kelley just lifted her shirt to wipe her face.” Ashlyn snorts and you shake your head.

“Didn’t notice.”

The two women share a glance.

“Sureeeeeeeeee you didn’t.” Ashlyn smirks, she and Megan making their way to the bench to sit by their teammates, leaving you to stand rigid, your eyes darkening every time you watch Kelley’s calve muscles flex as she runs downfield.

Soon, the familiar ache builds between your legs and you growl, hoping that halftime comes fast.

***

“Now?!” Kelley asks as you drag her to a secluded spot backstage and you nod.

“I mean everyone needs a little halftime pick me up.” You shrug and Kelley snorts.

“I can’t disagree.”

The second you get her to an empty room your hand is down the front of her shorts, your fingers tracing her slit through her panties.

Kelley untucks your shirt from your pants and stuffs her hands down your pants and into your boxers, the woman’s fingers running through your folds.

“F-F-Fuck.”

“You’re so wet already.” She whispers and you groan, the woman’s fingers rubbing against the throbbing bundle of nerves between your legs.

Kelley gasps when you slip your hand out of her shorts and slip them into her panties, your fingers stroking her in a way that makes her body shudder.

“Yeah, like that.” Kelley moans as you teasingly pinch the bundle of nerves between her legs.

“And you said I was wet.” You whisper in her ear, the woman crying out when you tease her entrance with your fingertips.

Kelley drops her hips, the top section of your finger slipping inside her.

“Eager, are we?” You ask and she shivers.

“Please, inside.” She begs and you’re happy to obliged, slipping two of your long fingers inside of her, the woman letting out a shuddering moan.

“Fuck, yeah.”

You rest your forehead against hers, snarling when her fingers slip inside you.

“Come on Y/N, I want you to fuck me.” She whispers in your ear, her hips starting to roll, her mouth hanging open, eyes screwed shut and brows furrowing.

Still in Kelley’s state, her fingers move, her thumb rubbing against your clit as her fingers slip in and out of your tight heat.

You can feel your release creeping up on you, and by the way Kelley’s walls flutter around your fingers, she’s close too.”

“Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Kelley moans, your fingers curling in a way that pushes her over the edge, the sound of her moans pushing you over the edge seconds later.

***

Ashlyn rolls her eyes, turning to look at Sonnett who has her hands over her ears.

“I can’t unhear that.” She pouts as Ashlyn moves towards the door, slamming her palm against the door.

“Seriously? You guys couldn’t wait until AFTER the game? Get your asses to the locker room.” The goalie rolls her eyes, she and Sonnett taking their leave, Ashlyn consoling the blonde defender.

***

Meanwhile, back inside the room you and Kelley are looking at each other with wide eyes.

“Fuck.” Kelley growls as your fingers slip out of her, your eyes locking with hers as you clean her essence from your digits.

The defender follows suit, her fingers leaving your tight channel before slipping into her mouth, the woman humming at the taste.

“Looks like that cat is out of the bag.” You shrug and Kelley rolls her eyes, smacking your chest.

“Shut up idiot.”

“Hey, if you weren’t porn star moaning, we wouldn’t get caught.”

“Hey! At least I don’t snarl like a grizzly bear.” She rolls her eyes and you smirk.

“If I remember correctly, that snarl as made you cum a few times.”

Kelley’s eyes narrow as she glares at you, cheeks and ears flushing pink.

“Shut up.”

Reluctantly, you head back to the locker room, smiling when you realize Kelley has taken your hand, her fingers slipping between yours.

By the time you get to the locker room, everyone turns to you with knowing smirks, except for Emily, the woman hiding her face in Ashlyn’s chest.

“How dare you scar her.” Alex rubs her back and the two of your cheeks flush.

“Sorry?” You shrug unapologetically, and Kelley smacks your chest.

It’s in that moment that Alex realizes the two of you are holding hands, her blue orbs darting from your joined hands to Kelley’s face.

The defender jerks her hand away from yours and moves towards her locker, leaving you behind with the phantom feeling of her hand in yours.

***

Holding Kelley O’Hara’s hand felt so right, righter than holding someone’s hand had EVER felt.

You drum your fingers against your bicep, watching the game go on in front of you, your eyes on a certain defender as she runs downfield.

“You care about her, don’t you?” You pick your head up, eyes wide when you see Alex Morgan standing in front of you, the woman giving you a soft smile.

“I don’t know what you’re-

“Bullshit.” She snorts and you sigh.

The forward doesn’t relent though, standing beside you, her arms crossed across her chest.

“We’re just messing around.” You whisper lowly, the woman leaning close to hear you, rolling her blue orbs as she pulls back.

“That doesn’t mean that feelings can’t develop between the two of you.” Alex growls and you huff.

“It’s just sex, that’s it.”

Alex pats your shoulder.

“The longer you keep telling yourself that, the worse it’ll make you feel.”

You watch the forward move towards the bench and take a seat a frown tugging the corners of your mouth down.

You know she was right, but really admitting it to yourself meant cutting off what was going on with Kelley and honestly, you didn’t want that to end.

***

A knock on your hotel room door makes your brows furrow.

You’d just gotten out of the shower and into your clothes to get ready for bed when someone started insistently knocking on the door.

One look through the peephole and you’re tugging the door open, a brow arched when you see Kelley O’Hara standing on the other side.

“You making a house call?” You snort, the defender rolling her eyes as she slips into your room.

“Who are you? Get out of my room!?” You say teasingly, Kelley grabbing your arm and pulling you into the room, kicking the door shut behind you.

“I needed to talk to you.” Kelley sighs and your eyes widen, your heart skipping a beat in your chest, but the voice in the back of your head tells you that she isn’t here to talk about pursuing more with you, so you plaster on a charming smile, as per usual and swagger towards the bed.

“We can’t hook up anymore in public.” Kelley says in a single breath.

You snort.

“Yeah, I figured since we got caught.” You shrug, sitting beside her on the bed and Kelley nods.

“Do you uhhh...” Kelley swallows hard, her gaze on the hotel’s tacky carpet beneath your feet.

“Do you want to stop ummm, what we were doing?” Kelley asks and you lick your lips, staring at the woman’s profile.

The woman nervously fidgets, glancing out of the corner of her eye at you every few seconds.

“Are you just going to stare at me?” She asks and you chuckle.

The woman lets out a squeak when you lift her into the air and place her in your lap.

“Do you want to stop?” You ask and Kelley licks her lips.

You inhale sharply when the woman gives her hips a roll, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

"Now that I’ve seen you half naked...” She whispers, her hands running down your chest, nails digging into your muscular stomach.

Kelley leans in, pressing her lips against yours, your heart stuttering in your chest at the feel of her lips against yours.

Her fingers tangle in your hair as your lips part, Kelley’s tongue slipping into your open mouth, caressing your tongue with hers.

Kelley gives her hips a roll and you shudder, your arms slipping beneath hers, your hands on her back.

The two of you part, a grin stretching across her face.

“It’s not fair if I’m the only one half naked at this party.” Your brows arch and Kelley rolls her eyes, holding her arms up in the air.

“Well?” She winks and you grin, pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it to the floor.

You hum loudly.

“Still a little overdressed.” You teasingly stick your fingers in the hem of her sweats and give them a tug.

You watch with wide eyes as Kelley stands, pulling her sweats off with no hesitation, your cheeks flushing as you drink her in, realizing she’s in nothing but a thong.

“Better?” She asks, watching as the muscle in your jaw jumps and you nod.

“Ye-Yeah, be-better.” You stammer, the defender grinning as she goes to climb into your lap.

The defender gasps when she ends up flat on her back, her head on the pillows at the head of the bed.

“First time having you in a REAL bed.” You smirk, ducking down to latch onto her pulse point, the woman tilting her head back as you teasingly lash her pulse point with your tongue, giving it a nibble before giving it a hard suck.

“Shit.” Kelley groans, her fingers running down your back as you suck a bruise into her neck.

“That’s going to leave a mark.” You tease the defender sighing as she cups your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss.

“Fuck, I don’t care.” She whispers against your lips gasping when your leg slips between hers, your hips rolling as you kiss, tongue sloppily swiping at one another.

Kelley whines when your lips leave hers, but soon her back’s arching when you’re nibbling on her collarbone, your lips trailing down to the swell of her breasts.

As you suck the pillowlike flesh into your mouth Kelley pulls you closer, forcing more into your mouth before you release it with a loud pop, quickly turning your attention to her other breast.

Kelley shoves you back and your eyes widen, the woman fumbling with taking her bra off.

She grumbles as she tries to unhook it, her eyes narrowed as she glares at you.

“You get it.” She pouts and you smile, slipping a hand behind her and flicking your wrist, her bra immediately coming undone.

“Wipe the smirk of your face.” She grumbles, taking her bra off and tossing it on the floor.

“Your turn.” She flicks your sports bra strap and you smirk, jerking it over your head.

Immediately Kelley ducks down, latching onto your nipple.

You tilt your head back, sighing as the woman’s tongue lashes against your nipple.

“Fuck.” You groan as Kelley does the same to your other breast, kissing and nipping on the erect bud with a smirk.

“Shit Y/N.” She whispers as you roll your hips, legs wrapping around you as she buries her face between your breasts, nipping and sucking the flesh until you’re covered in bruises.

You shove her back onto the bed, the defender chuckling as you slither down her, lighting brushing one of her nipples with the tip of your tongue.

“You don’t get to have all the fun.”

Kelley can’t keep still, as your lips latch to her nipple, the woman’s back arching as you lash the stiff bud with your tongue.

“Like that.” Kelley sighs and you grin, pulling back to give her breasts a few love bites, the defender grinning as you latch onto her other breast, giving it similar attention.

“Take them off.” Kelley commands as you pull back, your eyes wide.

“Are you...” You swallow hard, your eyes widening when Kelley sits up, cupping your cheeks.

Her brown orbs dart around your face as her thumb runs across your bottom lip.

“If you want to.” She whispers, leaning in to playfully bump her nose against yours. “I want to, but ONLY if you’re okay with it.”

You lick your lips, your nose brushing Kelley’s as your lips meet in a tender kiss.

Considering your eyes are closed you can’t see when Kelley’s eyes snap open, doubling in size when something more than lust runs through her.

Kelley’s eyes shut again just as you pull back.

“I want to.”

Your eyes remain locked with hers as you run down her body, your fingers slipping into the waistband of her thong.

Kelley nods, licking her lips as you strip her off the wet garment, your eyes still locked with her brown orbs until she spreads her legs, your eyes dropping to the apex between her thighs.

“Jesus, you’re soaked.” You whisper as you press a kiss to her calf, the woman’s tongue pushing between the tight line formed by her mouth.

You give her opposite calf equal attention before kissing up her thighs, stopping just shy of where she needs you most and sucking a bruise into her flesh.

“Please Y/N.” She whispers and you smirk, nibbling at her hip bone.

“Please what?” You ask and she growls, tangling her fingers in your hair and shoving your head between her legs.

“So forceful.” You smirk and Kelley growls.

“Y/N just-

The woman’s brows furrow, her eyes screwing shut and mouth falling open as you run your tongues through her folds for the first time.

“And I thought you tasted good on my fingers.” You whisper, blowing on her slick slit and the woman’s back arches.

Soon you’re back between her legs, a feeling Kelley can only describe as utter pleasure, the woman gasping and moaning as you find each and every spot that makes her toes curl.

“There!” Kelley yells, tangling her fingers in your hair, her back arched as your tongue moves just the way she likes it.

Kelley can feel the heat building in her lower belly, her lips parted as she grabs fistfuls of your hair, rocking into your eager mouth.

“Y/N, I’m gonna...” She squeaks.

“Cum baby, cum for me.” You whisper against her sex and Kelley cums with an obscene groan, her essence coating your tongue which you’re more than happy to lap up.

At the way Kelley’s hips quiver you get a devilish idea, pulling her flesh up with your thumb before lashing your tongue against the hidden, most sensitive part of her clit.

“FUCK Y/N!” She screams, cumming again with a cry, her back arched as much as humanly possible.

You help her down from her high, pressing a tender kiss to her sex before you’re pulling back, the defender covered in a thin sheen of sweat as she pants heavily, her lips parted.

You fall onto the bed beside her, the defender rolling over, burying her nose in your neck.

“I’ll... I’ll be ready in a minute.” She pants and you grin.

“You don’t have to.” You grin and she shakes her head.

“No... I...” Kelley grins, giggling.

“Damn, you’re good at that.” She shivers and you smirk, rolling on your side and wrapping your arms around her, the sweat covered woman wiggling closer, her nose buried in your chest.

You give her forehead a tender kiss, the woman smiling as she nuzzles into your chest.

“I’ll just take a power nap...” Kelley yawns and you nod.

“Sure, you will.”

The defender mumbles tiredly and you smirk.

“Sleep.” You whisper, kissing her forehead and the woman smiles, nuzzling closer before her breathing evens out and she’s fast asleep.

You look down at her with a smile, the defender smiling in her sleep making your heart skip a beat.

“Night Kel.” You whisper, your eyes fluttering shut.

Soon you too are fast asleep.

***

Kelley wakes well before you, smiling when she smells your body wash, the delicious ache in her hips reminding her of the night’s activities, as if she could actually forget the mind-blowing orgasms, you’d given her.

Kelley stares up at you through her eyelashes, a smile stretching across her face at the way your mouth hangs open, soft snores coming from your open mouth.

“I always knew you’d be a snorer.” She whispers against your chest, her eyes fluttering shut.

Kelley’s eyes flash back open though when you pull her closer in your sleep, mumbling under your breath.

Kelley tilts her head back, kissing the underside of your jaw, nuzzling against the spot she’d just kissed.

The defender cups your cheek, tilting your head down so she can look at your sleeping face. She leans in, her lips inches away from yours as her eyes flutter shut, soon she too is again fast asleep.

***

Waking the next morning, your lips mere inches away from Kelley’s is something you could definitely get used to.

You let out a lengthy sigh, your eyes widening when Kelley’s sleepy brown orbs flutter open.

“Finally, you sleep like a bear.” She laughs, voice raspy and you chuckle.

“How long have you been awake?” You ask, stretching and she smirks.

“A while...”

“Were you kissing me in my sleep, weirdo.” You tease and she rolls her eyes.

“No, I just wanted to be close enough to do this when you woke up...”

Kelley leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, cupping your cheek with one hand and taking your hand with the other, intertwining your fingers as the two of you kiss softly.

If Kelley were clothed, the kissing would be incredibly tame, though when she rolls the two of you over, her bare chest pressing against yours, you know it’s anything but.

You inhale sharply, the woman smirking, ducking down to kiss your neck.

“I suppose I should return the favor for all those hickies.” She whispers kissing and nipping at your flesh before sucking a bruise into your neck.

“Kel...” You gasp, the woman smirking.

“Hmmm?” She hums as she nibbles on your earlobe and you sigh, the apex of your thighs throbbing considering you hadn’t orgasmed the night before.

“Ohh, I bet you’re still turned on...” She whispers in your ear, sliding down your body, pushing herself up on her hands, hovering over you.

“How do you think this would feel...?” Kelley lowers herself towards your chest and you swallow hard, grunting even at the feel of Kelley’s breath on your chest.

“Shit.” You sigh as Kelley lightly flicks her tongue against the sensitive erect bud, your back arching.

“You are still turned on...” She whispers as she gives your nipple a bite, earning a groan as your body shivers.

The amount of pleasure you feel JUST from the woman lightly stimulating your nipples is enough to push you over the edge, but soon she’s pulling back with a smirk.

“Oh no, you’re not cumming yet.” She smirks, watching as a bead of sweat runs down your face. She crawls up your body, her lips pressing against yours, the two of you again getting lost in kissing, the sound of your lips meeting the only sound in the quiet room.

“FUCK.” You yell when Kelley, unbeknownst to you, slips a hand between your legs and palms you through your boxers, your brows furrowed and eyes screwed shut.

“Are you ready for me?” She asks and you nod, your lips parted.

“Ye-yes, p-please.” You grunt, inhaling sharply when Kelley tears your boxers off, the cold air hitting your slick heat.

“God, you’re soaked.” Kelley says as she spreads your legs, licking her lips.

Kelley smirks, her brown orbs locked with your Y/E/C orbs as she lowers her face to your core.

“I think I’ve teased you long enough.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to your pulsing clit, the small touch making your back arch.

Kelley smiles up at you, the sight of your pleasure, her own core throbbing.

The defender dives between your legs, her eyes rolling back in her head at the taste of your sex.

“God-da-damn.” You stutter, your fingers tangling in Kelley’s hair as your hips roll, Kelley paying extra attention to your clit.

Kelley slips two fingers inside you and you let out a literal snarl, the defender moaning against your sex, her body shuddering at the sound.

“Fuck, I want to hear you make that sound again.” She whispers against you, her fingers curling inside you.

“Kel, I’m...”

“I want you to cum, cum for me baby.” She whispers and you do, letting out a groan as you cum, the defender smirking against you, her own release creeping up on her as she rubs herself against the bed.

The orgasm is like one you never experienced, your toes curling, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as you convulse.

“Ohhh yeah...” You shake, twitching, gasping when Kelley’s fingers slam into you, never ceasing, the woman taking a play from your own book by pulling the hood of your clit back and sucking on the newly exposed shaft of your clit.

“KELLEY!” You cry out, letting out a guttural roar as you cum again, your body convulsing even harder.

“Oh fuck, Y/N.” Kelley cries, burying her face in your thigh as she cums, her body shaking.

“God-Fuck... Shit.” Your body shivers harder, the sound of the woman’s orgasm prolonging your own.

You finally still, your eyes still rolled in the back of your head as you twitch and quake from the aftermath of three powerful orgasms.

“Shit Y/N...” Kelley sighs as she crawls on top of you, flopping down on top of you, the two of you panting heavily.

“Jesus.” You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around her, the two of you covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Is today your day off...?” You whisper and the defender nods.

“Yeah.”

You grin.

“Well I think I know what we’re doing today.” You smirk and Kelley giggles.

“I can’t say I mind the sound of that.”

***

“So, I guess Y/N and Kelley are fucking all day, and I’m NOT about to go knock on that door.” Ashlyn shakes her head as she takes a seat beside Ali at breakfast.

“Y/N is just digging a deeper hole.” Alex frowns, everyone turning to her with an arched brow.

“What do you mean?” Lindsey asks and Emily scoffs, sitting down beside her.

“Y/N is in love with Kelley, but doesn’t want to admit it.”

The sound of gasp makes everyone still, the team turning around to see you and Kelley standing side by side, your eyes downcast and Kelley’s eyes wide.

Kelley can’t seem to get herself to move, even when you turn on your heels and take off, leaving her and the team behind.

“Kel...” Alex moves to her feet, placing her hands on Kelley’s shoulders.

The woman blinks, glancing around, her brown orbs doubling in size.

“Did you...” Kelley looks at Sonnett, the blonde’s eyes wide.

“Did you say she loves me?” She asks and Emily swallows hard.

“You weren’t supposed to find out this way...” She whispers, unaware that you’re already upstairs stripping out of your clothes and grab the essentials, leaving everything else behind.

“Wait, she, she loves me?” Kelley asks, chuckling in disbelief as she moves to sit beside Sonnett, her and Alex sharing a glance.

Kelley remember the tender kisses you’d shared that morning, how she felt when she woke in your arms that morning and how she felt seeing you were asleep in her arms.

Kelley blinks rapidly, the woman smiling as she jumps to her feet and runs off.

“I LOVE HER TOO.”

Alex shakes her head, smirking.

“I hope they figure this out...”

Little did she know you had already made your escape, taking off down the sidewalk and further into the city.

Kelley comes down minutes later, tears in her eyes.

“She took most of her things... She’s gone.”

***

“Shit fuck.” You shiver.

Unfortunately for you, it had started to snow, and also unfortunately for you, you hadn’t exactly grabbed a coat in your haste to leave.

“Of course, it would be fucking snowing, of fucking course.” You growl under your breath as you shake.

Even through the cold you march down the sidewalk, unwilling to go back to the hotel.

You know Emily didn’t mean to tell your secret, you didn’t blame her, it was jus bad timing and it couldn’t have been worse.

Wandering around the city you eventually end up at a park, the sidewalks now dusted with snow, as you begrudgingly sit on a bench, your body shuddering.

Yeah, it was cold, but you weren't going to the hotel, not yet, because then you’d have to face her and the harsh reality that she didn’t feel the same.

***

“Is there ANYWAY we can do to find her!? It’s cold and she didn’t take her coat!” Kelley motions to your suitcase and Emily clears her throat.

“We’re going to Alex’s room; it smells of sin in here.” Emily mumbles, earning a narrowed eyed glare from the defender.

“Come on, I’m sure we can figure out a way to find Y/N.” Megan leads the charge to Alex’s room, the entire team brainstorming.

“Wait, can we track her through Insta or something?” Julie snaps her fingers and everyone turns to her, smirking.

“Ertz comes through for us again!”

***

You don’t know how long you sit on the bench, unmoving until someone gives your shoulder a shake.

“Y/N, hey, we need to get you back to the hotel...”

You blink rapidly, your brows furrowed.

“Lys?” You ask, the goalie nodding.

“Yeah, it’s me. Jesus, you’re freezing.” She mumbles, helping you to your feet, your bones aching from the cold, a thin coating of snow covering you.

“How long have I been out here?” You mumble, glancing around and Julie frowns, coming from out of nowhere, slipping a coat over you.

“A couple hours.” She frowns and you shudder, her, Crystal, and Carli leading you down the sidewalk.

“Come on, let’s get you back.”

You swallow hard, stopping, much to everyone’s dismay.

“Does she hate me?” You ask shivering and Julie shakes her head, smiling.

“Of course not.”

Alyssa smiles, shaking her head.

“She never could.”

Carli and Crystal gently place their hands on your back.

Carli smiles.

“But you two need to talk.”

You nod, swallowing hard.

“I know.”

***

“Alyssa found her, they’re heading back to the hotel now.” Christen sighs in relief.

“Is she okay?’ Kelley asks worriedly and Christen frowns.

“Apparently she was just sitting on a bench covered in snow.”

Kelley pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing.

“Damn it Y/N…” She mumbles, her heart racing.

The second they get back to the hotel, Kelley basically leaps out of the car, leaving her teammates behind as she makes a beeline for the elevator.

Kelley makes her way down the hall towards your room, eyes wide when she sees Julie standing outside your door.

“Is she okay?” The defender asks and Julie nods.

“Freezing, but okay.”

Kelley moves towards the door, but before she can step inside, Julie catches her wrist.

“She really cares about you Kel.”

Kelley nods, giving Julie��s hand a squeeze

“I know.”

***

The second the door opens you freeze, your eyes slamming shut.

The bed dips and your eyes flash open, locking with Kelley’s dark brown orbs.

Kelley cups your cheeks, your flesh freezing beneath her hands.

“God, you’re so cold.” She whispers, surprising you when she slips under the covers with you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

“Kel I-

Kelley shushes you softly.

“We’ll talk about it later, let’s just focus on you getting warm.”

Kelley immediately notices how rigid you are and she frowns.

“Look I promise we’ll talk, okay? But right now you need to get warmed up, the #1 priority.”

Soon the rest of the team is upstairs, peeking in the room to see the two of you huddled together, the defender’s arms wrapped around you.

“Let’s give them some privacy.”

Ashlyn shrugs.

“Orrrrrrrrr… we could always listen through the wall since our room is right beside theirs…”

Everyone shares a glance.

Ali grins.

“Alright you talked me into it.”

She basically runs into the hotel room, her teammates following close behind.

“Didn’t take much.” Ashlyn snorts.

“I’m invested, if I have to listen to them screw all night long, I deserve to know if they’re together!”

***

Kelley pulls you close, her eyes screwed shut as she holds your still shivering and shuddering body.

“I was so scared.” She whispers, nuzzling into your cold neck, the woman’s hot breath on your neck making you sigh.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” You say, voice raspy and raw from disuse.

Kelley pulls back cupping your cheeks, though she wanted to focus on warming you up, she also wanted to address the elephant in the room.

You can’t help but stiffen, not wanting to turn to Kelley, the woman’s brown orbs holding a truth that you worried would go against what you wanted, what your heart wanted.

“Please look at me.”

You sigh, your eyes screwed shut as you turn towards her, eyes still hidden behind closed eyelids.

“Please Y/N. Please.” Kelley pleads and you take a deep breath, nodding to yourself before your eyes finally flutter open.

Your Y/E/C orbs lock with hers, Kelley’s brown orbs shining with tears.

“P-P-Please don’t cry.” You stammer, covering the hands on your cheeks with your own.

“Kel. I’m so sorry I just-

You inhale sharply when Kelley leans in, her lips pressing against your cold ones.

The kiss is tender, a kiss you’d shared a few times before, a kiss that told you that she feels the same, that she did back then, but like you, she had no idea how to tell you.

The two of you part, your lips splitting in a grin as your eyes lock with hers.

Kelley leans in, her forehead resting against yours.

“I love you Y/N... I have for a while and I’m sorry I didn’t-

You lean in, silencing her with a kiss, the two of you parting only when you can’t stop grinning.

“I love you too.” You whisper, the defender giggling as she lunges back in, crawling on top of you as she presses kisses to your lips, your chin, your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere and everywhere she can reach.

Kelley hums, smirking, her tongue slipping between her lips as her brown orbs dart around your face. She leans in, playfully brushing her nose against yours.

“I know a way we can warm up.” You flirt, the defender rolling her eyes.

“Shut up and go to sleep, get your mind out of the gutter.”

That’s how the team finds you later, the two of you fast asleep, your arms wrapped tightly around the defender whose nose is buried in your neck, her hand cupping your cheek.

“It’s about time...” Alex smiles as she tiptoes to the bed, pulling the blankets up and over the two of you.

“This probably means we should suggest that Kelley and Y/N have a room away from us when we travel, right?” Emily sighs and Ashlyn nods.

Christen snorts.

“Yeah, that won’t help, we could hear them down the hallway.” Christen glances at Tobin, the woman nodding.

“So, a different floor then?” Emily shrugs, and Julie scoffs.

“Nope, we could hear them up there too.”

“A new hotel then?” Emily huffs and everyone snickers.

“Yep.”

Kelley snarls, sleepily.

“Could you guys go away?” She mumbles sleepily and everyone rolls their eyes.

“Fineeeeeee. Congrats Kel.” Alex ruffles the defender’s hair and she huffs, glaring at everyone until they leave the room, before she turns back to you, you who are still fast asleep.

“I love you Y/N... I’m sorry it took me so long to admit it.”

You grumble in your sleep, pulling her back down against your chest.

“I love you too.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #kelley o'hara x reader #kelley o'hara imagine

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years ago

Text

Coercion - read on ao3

Tagging: @snowstark @someonepostedart @thegreenmetblue @sinditia @just-things-things @andacheesyoneliner @lokitonypeter @bluestarker @lilcoffeecup

*-*

Peter climbs the wall of windows silently, walking on his toes and fingers.

Its dark out, the building empty of everyone but the security team and custodians.

Peter forces himself to breathe slowly, checking each floor before continuing up. Its nerve wracking, knowing that at any moment someone could see him on the other side of the glass.

But he kept going. Kept crawling up and up until the air got colder and thinner.

A bag hanging across his shoulder flutters in the wind, and Peter presses himself closer to the glass. Once the wind has died down again, he continues.

His arms shake with effort and fear, blood singing with adrenaline.

He doesn't think he'd be able to slow his fall from this height, and although he's got superhuman healing, Peter doesn't think he'd be able to walk away from a fifty story drop.

He freezes when his senses spike with warning, the feeling like having the nerve endings in his head poked at.

He looks around the open space on the other side of the room. The only light inside is coming from the cooler doors.

Peter stays completely still, scrutinizing the big room for any perceived damage.

Not finding anything, Peter glances around him, but again, there's nothing. Its just him, almost 60 stories from the ground.

The floor he wants is the penthouse, and thats still a dozen stories up. Peter inwardly curses the Superior and his need for having the biggest, flashiest building in the world.

Another gust of wind has Peter slipping and he lets out a yelp, cut short as he clamps his teeth shut, sticking to the glass like a tree frog.

He takes a moment to let his heartbeat slow. Takes deep breath until its no longer stuttering from his chest, and then slowly continues his climb.

He just needs to get in and out without anyone seeing him. Needs to plant the virus somewhere, get a link set up. Maybe then the world can finally be rid of the Superior once and for all.

He's just reached the floor he needs when his senses go haywire. He almost loses his grip again at the spike.

Before he can do anything, the glass under his fingers explodes, slick black tendrils reaching for him. Peter gasps, the feeling of falling making him freeze up, but before he can, the inky black claw-like substance wraps around his chest, like a taloned hand picking up a doll.

Peter's yanked into the building, and his eyes widen at the sight before him.

He's never seen a beast quite like this -with silky wet skin as dark as night, built like a heavyweight champion on steroids, and with eyes similar to Peter's suit.

What really draws Peter's focus is its mouth. "Going somewhere, little spider?" The thing growls, voice so low and -other- that Peter about wets himself.

He kicks and claws, thrashing in his one hand as he's held off the ground.

A tongue as thick and long as Peter's arm slithers out of its mouth, licking at the row of prehistoric looking teeth.

Peter shoots its face with his webbing, left, then right, then left again, trying to glue that mouth shut, and hopefully suffocate it.

The hand clenches down harder, constricting his ribs and Peter lets out a desperate cry, hands dropping to try and pry the claws from his torso.

The monster stretches his jaw and the webbing is broken. Peter watches in growing horror as the thing eats it. Licking it from its face like cotton candy.

"You look delicious," the thing growls, pulling Peter closer. "So wriggly."

Another frightened and desperate noise breaks from Peter's chest as he struggles harder.

"Thats enough."

Both Peter and the monster freeze, their eyes turning towards the voice, and Peter's blood grows cold when a light flickers on, revealing the Superior himself.

"Lets have Eddie back, my pet," the Superior hums, standing to his feet. Peter wriggles more, trying to pry the hand off from around his chest.

The thing shrinks -though its hand remains- to reveal a man. Peter's eyes widen, seeing the black goop of a thing still holding him aloft is attached to the man's shoulder.

He looks at the Superior for further instruction, not saying a word. The Superior settles a gentle hand on the man's shoulder as he gets closer, praising both the man and the beast before turning his attention to Peter.

"Look at you," he breathes, stepping closer. The thing holding him brings him closer, though he never reaches the floor. "I've been looking forward to this for a long, long time, Peter."

Peter's breath catches in his throat and the Superior smirks.

"What, you don't think I keep an eye on everyone?" He asked innocently, reaching for Peter's head. "You think someone as unimportant as you couldn't possibly have caught my eye?"

Peter rears his head back, grunting with an effort to get away, but fingers grasp his mask and its yanked from Peter's head.

"Oh, Mr. Parker, how wrong you are," the Superior continues, brushing soft fingers along Peter's jaw. "You've been busy, little spider. Its cute, watching you try to make New York a safer place."

Peter clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to bite the hand currently touching the skin of his cheeks.

"But its never been safer," the Superior continued.

"Liar," Peter bites out before he can stop himself. The Superior's smirk broadens and Peter's skin prickles.

"You're a very smart boy," the Superior said, ignoring Peter's outburst. "You've created that virus all on your own in that little two bedroom apartment. My own employees can't do that, even with everything I offer at their disposal."

Peter's heartbeat rises at the mention of his apartment with aunt May.

Blue eyes glint mysteriously and Peter digs his fingers into the hand around his middle.

"I've been waiting for you to get the courage to actually go through with it," the Superior says softly. "To be able to get my hands on that lithe little body of yours."

As if to prove it, those hands move from his face down to his chest, over the beast's hand and settling on the jut of his hips.

"And this suit," the Superior marveled. "You're just asking for it in this."

"Are you gonna kill me?" Peter finds himself asking, fear making his voice shake. He can't die. Doesn't want to. What would aunt May think? She had told him never to seek out the Superior. To avoid him. Yet here he was.

"Killing you would be such a waste," the Superior answers on a sigh. "No, I have something much better planned for you, little one."

Peter's mind races with the possibilities and he thrashes with vigor, kicking at the air and hitting at the clawed hand.

The Superior's hand grabs Peter by the chin so fast Peter can't dodge it. He winces at the strength the man possesses as he's brought forward, their eyes meeting, blue on brown.

"You don't want to fight me, Peter," the Superior said, eyes flashing. Peter felt a breath release from his chest, the fight seeping from his bones as exhaustion sets in.

His tone lulls Peter, pulling at something deep inside him, quieting the voice in his head screaming to fight back.

"Thats it," the Superior smirked, petting Peter's hair with his other hand. "Dont you want to stay with me, little one? Be mine?"

Peter finds himself nodding, mind fogging as he continues to listen to the Superior.

"Let him go, Venom."

The clawed hand slithers from around Peter after he's set to his feet, and Peter momentarily forgets what he had been doing before. He had been here for a reason, he was going to do something.

He remembers -somewhere deep in his mind, so out of reach it could've been a dream- the rumors of the Superior being a silvertongue. But its so unimportant now, that its quickly dismissed.

"You'd love to make me happy," the Superior smiled, holding Peter's jaw the way one would cup a dog's muzzle between their hands. Peter finds himself settling his head further into the Superior's hands.

"Yes," he says, the word slow to come. The Superior pats his cheek.

"Take him to the lab," he says, still looking at Peter, but talking to the other man -Eddie, Peter thinks he's called. "Get him prepped. I've been waiting so long to make this pretty boy mine."

A hand grips Peter's upper arm, and he finds a bit of that fight returning, not wanting to go.

The Superior hushes him with a gentle hand. "I want you to go, little one," he says. "It would make me so happy."

Peter nods and lets Eddie take him away from the Superior.

"When its finished, take him to my bed, and wait for me there."

#marvel #tony stark #peter parker #ironman #spiderman #starker #eddie brock #venom #superior ironman #sim!tony #ao3 #my writing #SFSummerBingo21

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off-the-heezys · 3 years ago

Text

Shotgun

wow a fucking pikemax fic YBGDSJDKG

i wrote this originally for @gh0stbunnie for their highschool AU but thought i would post it here too

uuh cw for smoking, cursing, internalized homophobia

Max pulled a small box of cigarettes out of his pocket, pulling one out. “You got a lighter on you?” He asked without looking up. Edward paused before shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling one out. He carried it around along with his pocket knife, mainly to mess with it. Opening and closing it whenever he was bored. But it has some fluid in it. He tossed it over to Max, who caught it and swiftly lit his cigarette, taking a deep drag and sighing and he leaned back on his hand, looking out.

They were in a junkyard, sitting on top of an old, beat up car. Neither of them really wanted to be home, so they snuck out. And bumped into each other here. Like fate or something.

It was dark, the only thing lighting up the area was the moon, distant lights, and Max’s cigarette.

There was a long, drawn out pause before either of them spoke.

“Tough day, huh?” Max asked, tilting his head slightly towards Edward but not looking at him. The redhead huffed, amused.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, bringing a knee up and resting his arm on it. “I had far too many assignments this week, I could barely hang out with Snake or Petrol, I fucking hate most of the kids in my grade, my dad is thinking about sending me off to the military..” he dragged a hand down his face, groaning. Max let out a small ‘yeesh,’ taking another drag.

“Being you sounds awful.”

“Yeah, I could say the same for you,” Edward glanced at him. Max chuckled, shrugging.

“Touché.”

They sat in silence for a couple more moments, looking out at the junkyard, before Max noticed Edward watching him smoke. He smirked, holding out the cigarette.

“You want some?” He asked, mostly joking. Before he could do anything, the redhead plucked it out of his hand and looked back forward, taking a long drag out of it before sighing. Edward held it between his pointer and middle finger, and rested his arm back on his knee, gently tapping the back so some of the ashes could fall.

Max just stared at him, his position hadn’t moved since Edward took the cigarette. His mouth was slightly agape, and he only had one thought in his brain

Holy shit that was hot.

Edward paused before looking back at him. “…My.. dad smokes,” he said, looking away again, assuming the expression was because Max had never seen him smoke. He brought it back up to his mouth before pausing. “I don’t.. do it a lot because I got caught one too many times…” he took a drag, letting his shoulders relax as he exhaled. “But I kind of needed it.” He handed it back to Max, who slowly took it back.

The raven haired boy just kept staring at him, which caused Edward to turn to his, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked. Max paused and just chuckled, shaking his head as he got back into his previous position.

“Nothing, nothing. Just wondering if you’re actually Edward Pikeman or if you’re his cooler look alike.”

“Haha fuck you.”

Max laughed.

They had gone through a cigarette or two, passing them between each other before Max had a thought. An idea to mess with Edward

“Hey, Eddy,” he said, looking over at the other. The redhead scowled a bit at the nickname, but didn’t say anything about it.

“What?” He asked.

Here goes nothing.

Max took a huff and grabbed Edward by the shirt, quickly pulling him towards himself. He stopped him right as their mouths hovered over each other, Max blowing smoke into the others. After he was finished, he gently pushed Edward away, looking up at him.

Edwards cheeks were red, and his mouth was hanging open, smoke slowly oozing out of it until he forced himself to exhale.

They just stared at each other for a long moment. Right as Max slightly loosened his grip on Edwards shirt, the red head grabbed his shoulders, and smashed their lips together.

It was kind of clunky and awkward, but they didn’t care. Not like they had any experience before.

Edward slid his hands up into Max’s hair- curls he had longed to comb through. Max dropped the cigarette and he cupped Edwards face, it rolling off the car. They both were lost in it, the taste of nicotine on their breaths only making it worse.

Then Edward suddenly placed his hands back on Max’s shoulders and ripped him away. They both stared at each other, panting. The redhead looked…. Terrified.

“I’m sorry.”

Edward quickly let go of Max, slipping off the car. “Wh-“ Max tried to say something but Edward quickly cut him off.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I-I..” he started walking. “I need to go.” Max slid off the car and tried to stop him.

“Wait-“ but Edward had picked up the pace and was already nearing the entrance.

The raven haired boy watched him leave, sighing and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Then he pulled out Edwards lighter.

He was confused. And hurt. Why leave so suddenly? Did Max do something wrong?? He looked back up at the entrance of the junkyard, hearing the redhead start up his car and drive away. He stood there for a good bit before putting the lighter back in his pocket.

They’ll talk about it when he gives it back.

Edward was shaking. His breathing was rough. He shouldn’t be driving. He shouldn’t have left home. He shouldn’t have kissed-

He jumped as a car honked at him, quickly turning back into his correct lane. He needed to calm down.

He pulled over into the nearest gas station and parked. He was taking deep breathes before he dropped his head in his hands.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why did he do that?

Now Max knows.

He knows Edward is a disgusting queer who may or may not be into him. Now Max has his disgusting germs all over him. And he’s going to tell all his friends about how gross he is.

He choked back a sob, tears flowing out of his eyes and falling onto his pant legs and car seat.

He was terrified.

Because he liked it.

No. He loved it.

He loved the feeling of Max’s curls as his fingers ran through it. He loved Max’s soft lips and his nicotine flavored breath. His small hands holding his face. And how he-

…How he kissed back.

A flicker of hope sparked in Edward before it was immediately put out.

Max was just messing with him. Some cruel, twisted joke. That’s what the shot gunning before was. Just something to mess with him.

Nothing more than that.

Besides. Max would never fall for someone like him. An ugly, socially outcasted weirdo. He could never. Never ever ever ever-

Edward wheezed and he started loudly sobbing, wrapping his arms around himself as he wept and cried, shaking.

Had to get it out now before he went home.

#camp camp #pikemax #cc pikeman #cc max #DONT look at me #DONT PERCIEVE ME #I BEG OF YOU

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i-am-a-bad-influence-writes · 3 years ago

Text

False alarm

Steve Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: You ran away from the Avengers years ago, not knowing how to deal with feelings for a certain someone. But when you find out about a threat to humanity, you have to deliver it to the tower. You planned on dying there but your old friends refused to let you go.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 2848

Broken and bruised, you sit down on a couch in the common room. You know Stark’s systems are mere seconds from rebooting and detecting you as an intruder but you couldn’t care less. Right now, you need a place to bleed out in peace, and what better place than your former employer’s couch. And there it goes. You know Friday is too advanced to just turn on lights and sirens but you hear a scuffling and the opening and closing of doors as well as guns getting readied. And still, you couldn’t care less. Because, if it really comes down to it, there are two scenarios that could happen. Best case: They realize it’s you, listen to what you have to say, and patch you up. Worst case: They shoot you on accident or on purpose and put you out of your misery. Either is fine with you. Though with the pain you are experiencing, you’d rather die than have to go through recovery. ‘Y/n?‘ You pull your head up with the last bits of strength you still possess and look at a few familiar faces. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and Natasha Romanoff. ‘Hi,‘ you say weakly, ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I just wanted to bleed out peacefully.‘ Tony rushes towards you and sits down beside you. ‘Why’d have to you pick the couch?‘ His words were supposed to come out as joking and sarcastic but there’s hurt in them. And it could be delusion from losing a lot of blood, but you would’ve sworn you saw a tear fall onto his cheek. ‘The floor was uncomfortable,‘ you explain to him with a grin that looks crooked. You had intended to sound cocky, like the grin you always wore when you had sass wars with Stark. Instead, your words came out desperate. ‘I have a black rug right there,‘ his voice sounds shaky. Steve and Natasha walk over and the lights turn on. They kneel down next to you. ‘What happened to you, y/n,‘ Steve asks you, worried as always. He had always been a great guy. You’re not quite sure why you decided you didn’t like him anymore. ‘I- shit,‘ you cuss at the pain as you try to move yourself to sit up a bit more. Both Steve and Tony jump towards you to support you, but you brush their hands away. The only reason they’re not rushing you to a doctor right now is because they know how stubborn you can be. You take a deep breath. ‘I found something,’ you tell them and point at the bag you dropped a few steps into the common room, ‘it’s in my bag. They came after me.’ Your breathing becomes heavier and suddenly you realize you might actually die today. ‘What’s going on?‘ Bruce comes strolling into the room looking tired more than anything until he notices you on the couch. That man doesn’t ever run, but he damn near sprints towards you. ‘Oh shit. We need to get her medical help.‘ ‘No, you need to get my bag,‘ you tell them sternly, ‘it’s more important than my life.‘ Natasha is the only one who does as you say, although she does it with tears in her eyes. ‘Everything is on the USB,‘ you tell her. She nods and runs off to the lab. It is only then that you take a relaxed breath. ‘Ok, now you can help me.‘ None of the men waste any time getting you to the med bay. While they get things ready, you tell them a self-evaluation as well as your blood type to get them ready faster. It is only then that they realize where most of the bleeding is coming from. ‘Jesus Christ woman,‘ Tony looks at you in awe, ‘you lost half an arm and you still managed to come here?‘ ‘Just patch me up,‘ you snap at him. He nods. ‘On it.‘ He takes off the rag that you clumsily wrapped around it in an attempt to lessen the bleeding. ‘God, that’s nasty,‘ Tony gags but continues on while Steve works on some smaller cuts and Bruce gets some blood ready. ‘Hey Tony,‘ you try to speak but your voice sounds shaky and weak. You feel your consciousness fade away more and more with every breath you take. ‘Yes, dear?‘ ‘If I make it, will you get me a cool metal arm like Bucky’s?‘ ‘Of course. You want the metal metal or the black metal?‘ ‘Metal metal,‘ you smile, ‘that one was way cooler.‘ And suddenly you’re slipping. It’s like one of those dreams where you feel like you’re falling, only you’re not landing. You keep falling and falling and falling and falling and...

. ‘How is she doing?‘ Tony walks into the med bay with three cups of coffee. One for him, one for Bruce who came to do a checkup, and one for Steve who has been here for the last few days without moving. ‘Stable,‘ Bruce says shortly, ‘but Steve told me her heartbeat increased a few times during the night as well as her brain activity.‘ ‘That’s good, right?‘ ‘Better than we could’ve expected.‘ Tony smiles meekly. ‘I guess I better get working on that arm for her.‘ The door slams open and Natasha rushes in. She looks just as exhausted as Steve and both Bruce and Tony doubt she has had any sleep the past days. ‘It’s a weaponized gas,‘ she tells the three, ‘she found out that Hydra is working on a damn weaponized gas. A biological weapon.‘ She takes over one of the screens in the med bay that wasn’t used and projects her findings. ‘I think we all know how zombies work,‘ she starts her explanation, ‘well, Hydra is planning on making the whole world zombies. Not to bend them to their will, but to make them compliant so they can analyze everyone and make the useless kill themselves. The gas dies down after only a week and will be untraceable after.‘ ‘Let’s get to work.‘ . Bruised, tired, and broken Steve sits down at the side of your bed again. The man hasn’t even taken the time to take off his suit or take a shower. Right when the jet landed, he rushed back to you with Bucky following shortly behind to check on him. He smiles at the sight of you while Bucky leans against the doorpost. He’s worried for his friend, as anyone would be. He had known you for a little bit before you left. No one really knows why you left or how you left without a trace. All they knew is what you left on a note and the note really didn’t say much. Just that it was all too much for you. And yet here you are. You just helped save the world from great misery and you don’t even know it. How did all this happen? Steve lets his head hang. ‘Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me but I need you to know that we did it,’ he tells your unconscious body, ‘we stopped them and no one died except for some Hydra scum. And Stark promised to start working on your arm tomorrow, so you better wake up so his work doesn’t go to waste.’ He looks up at Bucky for a second who seems to have teary eyes as well. Slowly, more Avengers come walking in. Bruce takes a seat at a desk, Tony sits down on top of the desk, Natasha sits down next to Steve, even Sam decided to come to support you even though he doesn’t really know you so he just leans against the doorframe with Bucky, Peter doesn’t know you either but stands behind Bucky and Sam to silently support everyone in the room. ‘I think I speak for all of us when I say we missed you,‘ Steve continues, ‘work has been different without you around. And though we all wanted you back, I don’t think any of us would’ve wanted to see you like this. We miss you.‘ ‘Speak for yourself,‘ Tony comments through tears, ‘she bled on my couch.‘ . Your USB had more information on it than just the gas. Peter and Bruce have been trying to decipher it for a week or two when Peter takes another look at you through the glass walls of the lab. ‘Doctor Bruce, I know it’s a bit strange to ask this late, but who is she?‘ Bruce peeks up from his work and walks over to the kid. He looks through the glass and sees her steady heartbeat and active brain. Your brain had been active for some time now and yet you still weren’t waking up. ‘Y/n Y/l/n,‘ he smiles, ‘think Natasha, but more motherly. In fact, there was this running joke that she would be a great mother but she’d always say she already has too many kids to take care of here. She was a great agent, but one day she just up and left. None of us knew where she went or how she disappeared without a trace but she did. We hadn’t seen her in years when she turned up.‘ Peter nods at his explanation but continues to stare. Lost in thoughts, he starts twiddling with his fingers while Bruce turns back to work. Peter sees Steve come into the med bay like he had done many times this week. Most times he’d stay for an hour or so to talk to her about anything and everything. Some others tried to talk to her too but most got too emotional. Not Steve. If they’d let him, he’d sit there the whole damn day. He’d sleep by her side if the bed was big enough. He was there whenever there was a change in her activities. ‘Why is Steve so fond of her?‘ ‘They were friends. She’s known him from the start and she’s always trusted him,‘ Bruce tells the kid, ‘she trusted him when he found out Hydra was infiltrating Shield, she trusted him when he told her Bucky had saved him, and she trusted him when he said they could trust Bucky. She’s been there for him every step of the way. I think there was something more there but I’m not sure.‘ Peter nods and gets back to work. Steve deserves some privacy with her. So he and Bruce continue to decode Hydra files. . ‘Steve Rogers, the alarm has been set off. There is activity in the kitchen. The activity seems harmless.‘ Steve groans at the sound of Friday’s voice. ‘Why are you waking me?‘ ‘Tony has already been alerted. He asked to wake the others as this might have to do with the USB agent Y/n brought in.‘ That’s all it takes to get Steve on his feet. He quickly puts on the first clothes he finds which are joggers and a T-shirt. He sneaks into the hallway, meeting with Natasha who is already wielding a gun. The two stalk slowly towards the kitchen where it seems someone has put on the lights. They go into high alert. Either this is a very cocky Hydra agent or someone who doesn’t have clearance to be here at night. As they go around the corner they find- ‘Oh, hi,‘ you say casually. They look at you with their jaws on the ground. To be fair, it must be a funny scene. You’re not used to eating with one hand and your bowl keeps slipping away from you every time you dig your spoon a little too deep into the ice cream you found. So you’re sitting hunched over, holding back the bowl with your stump and your elbow on your other arm while instantaneously trying to eat the ice cream. It’s a mess. Or it could be the fact that you’re awake. Who knows? You surely don’t. You honestly feel like you’ve just had a very good night’s rest. ‘What are- Why- How-‘ Steve stutters his words, not really sure how to react to you. ‘It’s ice cream,‘ you tell him, ‘I was hungry, and I’m not quite sure how I’m managing this but it’s going.‘ He looks at you like you’ve just told him you’re a flat earther. He doesn’t understand a thing coming out of your mouth while you’re just answering his questions. Natasha finally lowers her gun. ‘What he means to say is: why the hell are you out of bed and how are you acting so casual when you’ve been in a coma for weeks?’ ‘Weeks? I thought I just slept through the day. I had a really nice dream,‘ you smile, ‘Steve and I were sitting on the rooftop and we were just talking about everything that has been going on these past years. Though I’m sure I imagined most of it.‘ A small smile appears on Steve’s face. You heard him in your sleep. He pulls you into a tight hug and doesn’t let go until Bruce and Tony come running into the kitchen. ‘Y/n is go- oh,‘ Tony looks surprised to see you sitting at the table with a bowl of ice cream. Just as confuses as Steve had looked, if not more. ‘We though you- oh well, that’s fine I guess.‘ ‘Say, Tony, am I still getting that arm because this is terrible,‘ you joke as you attempt to eat the ice cream again. ‘I-‘ he stops himself for a second to reevaluate what he was going to say, ‘no, why the hell are you ok? You’ve been in a coma for weeks.‘ ‘I know. Steve told me,‘ you sigh, ‘honestly, thank you for telling me that. I thought I had lost my strength overnight. I had such a hard time walking.‘ ‘You should rest,‘ Natasha states. ‘Why? You just told me I’ve been in a coma for weeks. I’ve had enough rest,‘ you stubbornly try to cross your arms only to realize you only have 1.5 arms. They watch the smile on your face falter for a second before a yawn leaves your lips. ‘Ok, sure, that’s on me. Where do I sleep? Because I’m not taking the couch if that thing still has dried blood on it.‘ ‘It’s your blood,‘ Tony snaps at you. ‘I know, that doesn’t make it less disgusting.‘ Tony rubs his forehead. Ah, that’s where all his headaches went. You took them with you when you left. ‘You can stay with me,’ Steve offers. You smile. ‘I’d like that.’ . ‘There you go. Try to move your fingers.‘ You marvel at the shiny vibranium arm that is now attached to the remainder of your arm. You don’t try to move quite yet, scared that it might not work and you’ll be excited about nothing. It’s already a strange feeling though. You can see your metal limb, but your body is not understanding that it’s a part of your body. You look at Steve, who is sat next to you, for a second, hoping to get some encouragement from him. He grabs your normal hand and squeezes it gently as he smiles at you. ‘You can do it,’ he tells you but it sounds like a promise. Carefully, you focus on moving a finger. Tony watches hopefully when your index finger starts to move a little bit. You try to move your thumb and watch it move. It still doesn’t register in your head that that is your limb, but it is doing it. Then you try to turn your hand and it works too. And then comes the big thing. Actually lifting your arm. You focus on trying to lift it as hard as you can. It comes off the table just a little bit and suddenly it clicks. ‘Holy shit,‘ you cuss excitedly, ‘Steve, are you seeing this?‘ Steve has tears in his eyes as he watches the excitement double in your face. ‘I am.‘ ‘This is insane. Wow,‘ you awe, moving around more and more, ‘Tony, this is amazing. You are the best.‘ ‘Don’t praise me yet. Try picking something up.‘ Steve puts his cup of coffee down in front of you and you move the metal arm to pick it up. The whole thing looks a bit clumsy, like a baby giraffe walking for the first time, but you’re doing it. You’re actually picking up the cup. ‘Stark, you did it,‘ Steve praises with a huge grin on his face. ‘This is so fucking cool,‘ you look amazed at your arm. ‘Language.‘ ‘Yes cap,‘ you turn to Tony, ‘so what’s next?’ ‘I don’t know, you tell me,’ he says. You look at Steve and frown for a second. He nods. ‘I think I’ve left some loose ends here,’ you tell Tony while continuing to look at Steve, ‘I’d like to get a chance to tie them up.’ ‘Sure, but if Morgan can’t be the flower girl, you’re out.’ Your lips pull into a loving smile, your eyes still glued to Steve. He looks hopeful and that’s all you need. ‘Deal.’

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narrans · 3 years ago

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The Orion’s Factotum | Ch. I | The Job

I was awake far before the first sun’s light. I couldn’t hardly sleep even though the summer night was cooler than it had been in a long time. The crickets were singing for most of the night in that soft, soothing way. There was a promise of rain. It was omnipresent like the first chill of winter, and goodness knew that was coming far too soon. I rousted myself and adorned the clothes they gave me; the guards that is.

My dear friend Caster had arranged the meeting which still played repeatedly in my head over and over. I didn’t say much. I didn’t need to; rather, they didn’t need me to. They merely snickered behind their helms and twisted their spears from side to side in the dirt like they were anxious to see what was to transpire. They handed me a tunic and a shift as well as undergarments not often worn by women. They told me I would need it for my work.

It was early, still dark, when I left my room and hurried down the stone streets to head to the castle and the dungeons below. They hadn’t let me go down to the prisons before. A light fog treaded alongside my feet as I traversed the unfamiliar path up the sides of the walls, down past the Low Towers, and further to The Turret.

The Turret was the prison; or, rather, where I was told to go to tend to my duties. It stood against sun, silhouetted perfectly as a lone tower. It was an ominous reminder, a warning – stay away lest you take your fate into your own hands. Some of the most dangerous prisoners in the realm were kept here – or so we were told.

I approached, I nodded to the guards who stood solemnly by the border. I had been introduced to them the day prior, but for the life of me I couldn’t remember their names. In fact, the only thing on my mind was my daughter. What was she doing this early in the morning? She had always been an early riser. There was a pang of guilt in my heart as I had not told her of this new position and the potential dangers that accompanied it.

“Oi! You!” The sound of a harsh female voice near me made my heart skip a beat. There, standing by the wooden door, were two guards I had not been acquainted with. “What’s your business here?” Her voice was forceful and direct, cutting through the air like the spear in her hand. Instantly, my nerves sent my mind reeling and everything I was told to say to them had vanished like the mist around my feet. I remember stammering when the male guard leaned over and looked me dead in the eyes. His eyes, a glossy brown, looked slightly red around the rims. They must’ve been on watch all night.

“I… erm…” I cleared my tensing throat to at least make it look like I was putting forth the effort to answer. “I’m… apologies, Sers, I am Raina. Raina Toro? I’m… um… supposed to…”

“Ahh you’re the new one, aren’t you?” asked the man, raising up with a keen and knowing look in his eyes.

“Who now?” asked the woman, giving me a suspicious stare. I shied away from the glance immediately, keeping my eyes low and grasping the cowl on my shoulders.

“You know who. This, Izett, is the Orion’s Factotum. You know, the new one?” he said with a melodic hint in his voice as if he were teasing me. I felt my limbs grow heavy and stiff while I kept my gaze averted.

“Ohhh! I remember now. They told us someone was coming, but I didn’t think it would be someone like her. Skinny shift of a thing, wouldn’t you say? I’m surprised they got the position filled so quickly; but, then again, it’s not like they last long anyway. Come on, we’re supposed to show you the ropes.” Something in Izett’s voice made me cringe. I was used to biting my tongue and keeping my thoughts to myself. This was also a position I needed. It was a good job. An honest job. I couldn’t let a few insults get to me, but that didn’t mean the other things she said weren’t worrisome.

Filled the position so quickly? Caster mentioned something like that, but he wouldn’t go to any lengths to put me in real danger, would he? And what was that other comment? They don’t last long? Who doesn’t? And why…

“Are you even listening?” the man’s voice sent my spiraling thoughts out of my head.

“Yes, Ser. Forgive me. My mind…”

“I don’t care about that. I care about not repeating myself,” he interrupted. “Really, you’re going to need to pay attention to our rules if you want to make it here. Now, let’s continue.”

They swung open the wooden door and brought me inside the Turret. The air was clammy and cold, lit only by a few torches. The Turret itself spiraled up revealing several chambers with heavy set bars in them. The guards paid this no mind and, instead, stepped forward toward a gaping hole in the ground with a strange wooden contraption hung over it. The ropes which held it aloft creaked as did the wood. There was an obvious smell of damp wood and the threat of mildew and rot.

“This is the Lock. You always need to make sure you close this gate around the platform before activating the Lock. To activate, pull this lever and the weights will drop or raise. Understood? Good. Moving on.” Neither of the guards gave me time to respond as they hastened their pace. I had to jog to keep up with the quickness of their steps, their leather armor creaking as they walked around the mechanism and continued to explain how I was to use it.

They opened the gate and stepped on without hesitation. I followed, nearly slipping on the slick wooden surface beneath me. They both snickered and threw the lever, plunging us down faster than I would’ve fallen. A scream filled my throat but came out only as a faint whistle before they threw the lever again, making me stumble. They chuckled again.

“You’re going to have a hard time of it if something like this frightens you,” said Izett as she stepped off of the platform.

“Yes Ser,” I muttered. They opened another large wooden door on the platform we stopped at, revealing the storeroom. Unlike most pantries with elements hanging like fruits and vegetables, cheeses and breads, everything resided in large barrels that came up to my waist. I dared to think that if I needed to I could probably fit inside one of them.

“This is the storeroom. You need to pick up five barrels here and two there. The two here are water and these here are assorted food stuffs. It doesn’t really matter which of these you pick. Just grab five and two. This is to be done twice a day. Understand?” asked Izett.

“I understand,” I said briskly. Five? Five barrels? My heart sank into the pit forming in my stomach. One barrel would easily tide a family off for a week if rationed properly. Five? Twice a day? Izett’s hand suddenly clasped my shoulder. Perhaps she knew I was feeling overwhelmed. Perhaps she saw the panic forming in my eyes. Whatever the case, what she said next didn’t sooth my quickly fraying nerves.

“You know,” she started slowly with a mischievous grin. “They’re bigger than you think. The Orion I mean. One hand could cover you from head to toe and no one would know where you’d gone.” I felt my shoulders shudder involuntarily at the words.

“Did you hear?” chimed in the male guard. “What happened to the last Factotum? Tripped and fell. It takes a second to get down to the bottom where the chains are; if you make it to the ground I mean. Orion are quicker than you think.”

So many times, I had heard of the Orion. I heard of their mannerisms and their civilization. I heard of their I heard of their immense size dwarfing towns and hearing it from them, now, was inconvenient and purposefully cruel. I needed this position. I kept telling myself who I was doing it for even as my shoulders gave away my fear.

“Don’t worry. As long as you don’t get too close to the edge, you’ll be alright,” grinned Izett, who proceeded to explain the remaining procedures including how the balances worked for the Lock and how to load the beams on the platform so it would not become unbalanced. Everything was explained so very quickly that I was hardly sure I would be able to retain it. All the while, they would mention things about the Orion known as Steele Veyne.

Steele evidently came many years ago and terrorized a few lands long the western coast, burning some of them to ash. He was tried and convicted, what it entailed I wasn’t sure, and sentenced to live out the end of his days below The Turret. The guards told me as they watched me struggle with the barrels that other Factotum of his didn’t stay long.

They said his behavior was like that of an animal, growling and grunting, raising his voice at the slightest provocation. They muttered among themselves as though I weren’t there, saying his voice was deeper than distant rolling thunder and twice as loud when he was trying to be quiet.

Finally, after I strained my arms and rolled over my toes twice with the barrels, it was time to descend the Lock to the lowest level. The weights were lifted, and we plummeted further and further into the darkness. The shaft was carved directly out of stone and narrowed as we descended. The rock was slick from where natural moisture gathered along the surface. The torch light gleamed against the rocks as though they were thousands of black, beady eyes.

The Lock came to a halt, sending my knotted stomach in a plummet and my heart in my throat. Every part of me tingled with a nervousness I hadn’t felt in years. It was an anticipation. A nervous anticipation. The two guards ushered me off of the platform, making no effort to assist with the barrels, and brought me to a metal door.

“Now, it’s very important you don’t go beyond the line. You can roll the barrels beyond the line, but do not cross it. Do you understand?” asked the male guard.

“Yes ser,” I mumbled as I stared at the barred door in front of me.

“Gervis, we can’t forget to tell her the most important thing,” reminded Izett.

“Right,” acknowledged Gervis, the male guard who failed to identify himself. “The most important thing is to not let him hear you. If he hears you, he will be angry.”

“Furious,” Izett chimed in.

“Inconsolably agitated. It is imperative you keep away from the line and do not make a single sound. Do you understand?”

“Yes ser,” I breathed. My skin tingled like I was a personal pin cushion for their teases and taunts, every jab and statement setting my nerves trembling. I could hardly breathe. The ache in my muscles from managing the hefty barrels was already going to be a challenge; however not as much as getting them into the room without a sound.

Trying to adhere to words I spoke to my daughter about keeping calm, I took one more calming breath, which irritated the nauseous spell in my gut, and let the guards pull the door open.

The chamber was completely dark except for two large cauldrons of flaming oil left hanging above a chasm of darkness. The ceiling stood many meters above my head, but it was the darkness below the rocky platform I was ushered onto that held my attention. It was against the wall, which was its only saving grace, but the edge was a sheer drop into the unknown.

There were no bars in the darkness below that I could see, but I could hear something faint that sounded like the rattling of chains; heavy chains. I didn’t need to see to know something was in that dreaded darkness that was immense. There was something rhythmic like the rolling of tide water against stone along the seaside. It wasn’t until I stepped into the chamber that I understood what it was – breathing.

I swallowed dryly and, with extreme caution, began rolling the barrels to the indicated spot Izett and Gervis told me about. I passed by what looked like additional platforms that descended into the darkness and continued further into the chamber. The length of each breath seemed to indicate that Steele was asleep. Perhaps this venture would go unnoticed.

The first and second went without incident. The third creaked only once, but the fourth made up for it. The final barrel was almost in place when I heard a sound that made me leap out of my skin and let out a yelp of surprise. The sound was the slamming of a door – a metal door. The thunderous clang of the hinges locking into place told me only one thing – they had closed and locked the door behind me.

There was an instant where the rattling stopped as did the breath. I held back every ounce of terror welling up inside me like a guizer preparing to burst. I clasped my hands over my mouth as if that would somehow keep the sound from erupting from my lungs. Every beat of my heart sent an terrible clenching ache through my veins. My mind raced but produced no thoughts. The air seemed to thicken with the damp moisture just as another sound rang out.

“STEELE! GET UP! YOUR BREAKFAST AWAITS!” The guards – those two wretched guards – were shouting through the small, barred hole in the door. The cauldrons of fire suddenly tilted as the sound of the chains in the darkness rattled. I dared not approach the door. I dared not move. I simply watched with my heart and scream in my throat as streams of fiery oil poured into several basins and began lighting the entire chamber. In the dim firelight which slowly trickled through the rest of the chamber, I could see him – the Orion.

I could only see his frame at first as I pressed myself against the rocks of the ledge. The guards had not lied to me. He was everything they said he was. Easily consuming a large portion of the chamber, his form lay on the ground, curled up into a kind of sleeping position. Hair which fell in his face came right to his shoulders if I could see correctly. There were elements of blonde, or dark blond rather, with fragments of silver lining where his ears were. There were years of smudge and grime caked into the beard on his face.

None of these things though were as terrifying as when his eyes flickered open, revealing two lightly colored violet orbs. They blinked once. Twice. Everything about him tensed as those eyes glanced to the platform where I had placed the barrels; and then to me. His entire body tensed, poised and ready to react.

Every impulse became second nature in an instant and seized control of my body. I turned and bolted toward the door, the sound of chains scraping the ground and a deep, ragged exhalation rumbled in his chest. I grasped at the bars on the small window, seeing only the giddy faces of the guards grinning sinisterly back at me. They were laughing, but I couldn’t hear it. I could only hear the primal growl that shook the very walls of the cavernous room I was now trapped in.

Tears pricked the sides of my eyes as I fumbled with the door. Yes. I was locked in. I was locked in a room with an Ordin.

“Trjahaka itdyom! Minyhar eemonspur!” The language was harsh and intense, rattling me to my soul. The very depth of his voice was like that of crashing boulders in a storm, an avalanche come to life. I tried blocking it out, hands flying to cover my ears. In that instant, the scream I tried desperately to hold back escaped and, not wanting the guards to have the satisfaction of seeing my fear, I turned away from the door and collapsed to my knees.

The chains rattled again and merely kneeling, was already almost eye-level with the platform. Was I going to die? Was all of this a trap set forth by Caster? The thought of being mangled or worse by this being was too much. A warm track of tears streaked down my face as I shuddered and shook, huddled in the corner like an animal knowing its fate to be slaughtered. Steele advanced. “Kevine! Doshti nool itsol qaathn…”

Steele was suddenly cut short by a harsh gagging sound. I glanced just over my shoulder, not sure if my heart could take any more by the way it pounded and pumped nothing but air into my veins. I was safe. A thick collar around his neck and chains against his wrists kept him from advancing and reaching me. The closest he could get, which I could now see, was the extended platform where the barrels were still set perfectly.

Our eyes met and, for the life of me, I could not bring myself to look away from those violet eyes lined with crows’ feet and a thoughtful brow.

The sound of howling laughter now filled my ears as the lock on the door was tossed to the side.

“Sorry about that Factotum, but we couldn’t have you come in without initiation,” grinned Gervis who stepped boldly into the chamber, freely meeting Steele’s eyes. “Don’t worry. He can’t get any closer than to barely reach his meals. Isn’t that right?” The Orion’s eyes narrowed in a seething hatred I knew once many years ago.

“Come along now Factotum. We have other things to show you about this place. Let the beast eat in peace,” grinned Izett as she did the only courteous thing she could and helped me to my feet. I shook like a fragmented leaf in a monstrous gale. If I had anything to eat, it would be making a second appearance. Fortunately, the only thing that happened was a few nervous coughs and the burning acidic taste in the back of my throat.

The low light kept the two young guards from seeing the glossy tears now streaming down my face. What a cruel start. What a miserable post. I could now see why others left the position in haste, not only for the Orion, but also for the treatment of the guards. Still, I needed this post. I needed to take care of my daughter. I shoved my feelings aside, knowing full well that afternoon I would weep into my cot of straw before returning later that night to my post as the Orion’s Factotum.

~~~~~

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nothingbutimagines · 4 years ago

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The Set Up (Tom Holland)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warning: Cursing, mentions of drug use, sibling bickering, a bit of angst

Summary: When Y/n comes back home for the holiday season to visit family after another long semester at Uni, her family takes it upon themselves to invite her old crush, Tom, to Christmas dinner in the hopes of setting the two up together.

Author: Dizzy

A/N: Oh geez, Christmas is approaching very quickly! Hope you all have been able to get all your Christmas shopping done (I know I haven’t)! Tomorrow is going to be a cute little Harrison Osterfield fic, so keep your eyes peeled, and today is Tom Holland as well as a few other fics I hadn’t gotten the chance to put together until today since I fell ill for a few days.

Masterlist Request Any Of These Peter Parker/Tom Holland Masterlist

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“Y/n, what are you wearing?” Your mother asked, causing you to turn away from the plate of cookies you were eating off of.

“Uh, a hoodie and jeans?” You muttered, your statement sounding more like a question as you paused, mid bite.

“Are you really wearing that to dinner tonight? We’re going to the steakhouse.”

“I mean,” You swallowed, “I have a sweater on underneath.”

“What happened to that cute little dress I left for you on your bed?”

“Mom, no one else is wearing a dress. Why would I?” You asked, brushing your hands off before sighing. “Lucy and Charlie are wearing sweaters and jeans too.”

“Your sisters are younger, they’re hard to get into dresses.”

“They’re 16 and 18. Not that young.” You argued. “I’m not wearing a dress. It’s just dinner with the family. You, me, Dad, Lucy, Charlie, and David. And you have all seen me at my ugliest.”

“Well, what if you run into someone you’re interested in?” Your mother asked, following you closely as you walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

“Like who? Tom?” You scoffed. “Mom, I know you love Tom, but I don’t. And I know you want me to get a boyfriend, but this is getting ridiculous. Last Christmas you set me up on a date with Ms. Chasten’s nephew and now you’re telling me to pick up a guy at a restaurant?”

“No, I wasn’t saying Tom. I know you said you no longer have a crush on him, but I’m just saying, what if you see a man you might want to date? Wouldn’t you want to look your best?”

You turned around, placing a hand on your mother’s shoulder as you smiled at her warmly. “Mom, I love you, but I’m not going to get a boyfriend just because you want me to. And I’m sure as hell never seeing Tom again, as much as I know you’d like me to.”

“Are you two ready to get going? We have a reservation to get to.” Your father interrupted, pulling his coat tighter around him.

“Yeah, yeah. Let me get my coat on.” You pushed past the two, making your way to the door and grabbing your coat off the rack.

You quickly pulled your hoodie over your head, hanging it up in place of your coat before pulling your coat over you. You quickly wrapped a scarf around your neck as the rest of your family began congregating by the door.

“I thought you were going to wear a dress.” Lucy stated, looking up at you as you followed everyone out the door.

“No, I wasn’t. Why is everyone trying to bully me into wearing a dress?”

Lucy shrugged. “Maybe it’s because you’re ugly.”

“You’re ugly.”

“No, I’m not. If anyone is the ugly, it’s David.”

“I heard that.” David grumbled as you piled into the car. “And for the record, if anyone is the ugly one it’s you, Luce. That’s just because you have a bad attitude and make unfunny tik toks.”

“I thought you said you liked my tik toks!”

“I lied.” David stated, turning back around in his seat, now facing forward.

You laughed as he turned, only to receive a small pinch on your arm from Lucy, who was pouting beside you like a child.

“Ow! That hurts, you brat!” You gasped, pushing her away and knocking her into the side of the car. “Luce, you’re like 16, cut it out!”

“And you’re like 21 but I have a boyfriend and you don’t!”

“That’s not even a valid argument in this conversation.”

“I know, I was trying to be a bitch.”

“You’re already a bitch. You don’t even have to try.” David interrupted, turning back around to face you both.

“Dad! David called me a bitch!” Lucy whined as you rolled your eyes, gazing into the eyes of your younger brother who had the same expression on his face.

“David,” Your father gazed back into the rear view mirror, “it’s not polite to talk about other people’s shortcomings.”

You started to laugh loudly, giving your younger sister a shove as the car slowed to a stop in the restaurant parking lot.

“I hate you all.” Lucy pouted, shoving you back as you all climbed out of the car.

“I can’t believe I still have to say this,” Your mother shook her head as you all walked into the lobby of the restaurant, “be on your best behavior, all of you, okay?”

“Hey!” Charlie spoke up, making you realize you had forgotten she was even there. “I didn’t do anything!”

“I didn’t say anyone did anything, I am just reminding you all that this is a very special evening, okay?”

You nodded, still chuckling as you glanced over at your brother, who still had the same smirk on his face as he had in the car. You followed the group along with the hostess to your table, taking a seat before realizing there was an extra place setting beside you.

“Oh, uh, I think there’s a mistake here.” You waved the hostess over. “There should just be six place settings.”

The hostess frowned slightly, confused. “Oh. I thought the reservation said seven people.”

“It did.” Your mother interrupted. “The other guest will be here shortly, thank you.”

You watched the hostess nod and walk away. You turned back to your mother, furrowing your brows as you looked at her, confused.

“I’m sorry, who else is joining us?” You asked, the confusion evident in your tone.

“Tom!” Your mother smiled, her line of sight leading above you as you followed it, to come face to face with the boy she was referring to.

“Hello, Mrs. L/n, and everyone else. Sorry I’m a bit late, there was some traffic.” Tom explained shyly, slipping his coat off and hanging it on his chair as he took a seat beside you. “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hi, Tom.” You nodded at him as the inner turmoil had begun to stir in the back of your mind.

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it, we were just seated.” Your mother waved, almost as if she was apologetic herself. “I’m just glad you could make it.”

“I think I’m going to go to the bar to get something to drink.” You announced, rising from your seat as you grabbed your small purse. “David, why don’t you come with me?”

“Oh, I don’t think I’m all that thirsty.”

“I wasn’t asking.” You muttered, giving him a look as he rose from his seat, now following you away from the table and in the direction of the bar.

“Before you say anything-”

“How could you not have told me Tom was coming?” You snapped, causing the younger man to flinch.

“Uh.” David averting your gaze, trying to find something to say.

“Since when do you keep secrets?”

“Since when do you cower at the sight of men?” David retorted, taking a seat on a bar stool as you followed in suit.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And you didn’t answer mine.” He huffed. “Ladies first.”

“Ugh, fine.” You groaned, rolling your eyes. “I cower at the sight of Tom since he came with to drop me off at uni last year.”

“Why? I thought that went really well.”

“No, it didn’t. You were high the entire trip anyway, I doubt you remember it at all.”

“Wait, so you didn’t share a kiss with Tom?” He asked, scratching his head. “Cause I didn’t think that was a weed hallucination, but now I’m not sure.”

“No, I did kiss Tom. But, that’s not the problem.” You shook your head. “I kissed Tom outside my building when you and Charlie were still packing up the car, which is why you remember seeing that, but then I ran off before he could say anything because it was obvious how he felt about me by the way he reacted to the kiss.”

“The way he reacted? What does even that mean? Like he didn’t kiss back?”

“Uh, yeah. Not at all. So I ran off and avoided his texts and calls forever and I haven’t talked to him since because it’s embarrassing.”

“Don’t you think maybe he didn’t kiss back because he was in shock?” David suggested, letting you think for a moment as he turned away to order a few drinks.

You thought for a moment, unsure of your own memories from the trip. You could only remember small portions of events, such as smoking with your siblings and Tom, Tom pulling you aside to talk, and you kissing him. You paused, going back to the earlier memory of Tom asking to talk to you. What was he wanted to talk about? You couldn’t remember and didn’t get the chance to dig around your own thoughts as David snapped his fingers at you.

“Hey, earth to Y/n. I got our drinks, let’s get back before Mom sends a search and rescue team.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You got up from your seat, drink in hand as you followed him to the table and took your seat beside Tom.

“Y/n,” Tom glanced over at you, a bright smile on his face, “your mother was just telling me you got on the Dean’s list?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, placing your drink down on the table and placing your napkin in your lap, attempting to avoid eye contact.

“It’s not that great, I mean, as long as you get over a 3.5, you’re on the list.” You explained, shrugging it off.

“No, no, that’s way cooler than anything I’m doing. I mean, I’m just an acting major. You’re doing what? Pre-med?”

“Pre-law.” You corrected. “Pays about the same and is not as much schooling. But, acting sounds really cool. Sounds more fun.”

Tom shrugged. “I guess. I mean, I’m taking this improv class and it’s absolutely the worst thing I could’ve taken.”

“Oh! I take improv at school!” Charlie chimed in, excitedly bouncing in her seat.

“Oh yeah?” Tom raised a brow, taking a drink from his glass before setting it down beside yours. “Maybe after we have dinner, you can show me some of your skills.”

Charlie shook her head. “I never said I was any good.”

The table erupted in a bout of laughter as you gave a small chuckle, your mind elsewhere while you picked up your glass, taking a drink of it.

“Uh, I think that’s mine.” Tom leaned over, his breath hot on your ear as he spoke lowly.

You choked on the drink a bit, coughing slightly as you set the glass down and looked at him apologetically.

“Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s alright. It’s not like we haven’t exchanged spit before.” Tom stated coolly, smirking slightly.

“I don’t backwash into drinks.” You retorted, attempting to not acknowledge his last statement fully.

“I don’t know, you might.” Tom said, picking up the glass and swirling it around with his hand, pretending to inspect it.

“Well, if you’re so worried, I’ll buy you another drink.”

“Oh, I’m not worried, but if you’re offering another drink, I will gladly take it.”

“Hey, lovebirds, I’d look at the menu if I were you, otherwise Mom’s going to order for you.” David interrupted, nodding towards the waitress that was at the table.

You gave him a glare before looking down at your menu, deciding to order the first thing you set your eyes on since you didn’t have much time before the waitress’s attention was on you.

“I see your brother is still snappy as ever.” Tom muttered after the moment of silence you shared.

“You know how he is. He’s not so bad with me, definitely on his last straw with Lucy, though.”

Tom opened his mouth to speak before being interrupted by the waitress. You quickly ordered your food, Tom doing the same before you turned your attention back to the conversation.

You weren’t sure what the young man’s plan was, why he was so insistent on talking your ear off when you had practically ghosted him like an ex-boyfriend for almost a year prior to the current exchange. You wanted to shrug it off, but you couldn’t get past it and it tortured you more for Tom to be so kind to you than it had ignoring him.

It’s not that you were okay with ghosting him in the past, in fact, you felt like it was a true breakup without you having ever been with Tom. It was a stupid, little interaction that you could’ve talked about and explained away had you actually given him a chance to speak to you, but instead you let your own pride get in the way of that.

“Y/n, did you hear what I said?” Tom asked, his hand resting on yours.

You blinked for a moment, clearing your throat and slipping your hand from under his as you shook you head. “No, sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh, don’t take it personally, Tom,” Your father started, “Y/n’s always in her own head. She never really hears anyone.”

“Dad, it’s fine.” You shook your head again. “What did you say, Tom?”

“I asked if you wanted to get a drink and speak privately for a moment.”

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“I think it is,” Your mother stated, now interrupting. “You two go ahead. We’ll come get you when the food comes.”

You mentally cursed yourself and your parents as you followed Tom’s motions, setting down your napkin alongside his and rising from your seat. You allowed him to place a hand on your lower back and guide you away from the group and to the bar, much to your own internal dismay.

“We need to talk.” Tom stated, taking a seat at the empty bar as he looked at you.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Is that why you came tonight? Just to confront me? You could’ve just called if you wanted that.”

“I would’ve if you didn’t block me.” Tom asserted himself before pointing to the empty seat beside him. “And have a seat, please, it’s weird that you’re just standing there.”

You took a seat beside him, leaning away from him and against the bar, as if you wanted to put as much space between you both.

“I came tonight because I wanted to see you, not just talk about how you drop kicked me out of your life.”

“I wouldn’t say I drop kicked you...”

“You kissed me, ran away in a split second, and then proceeded to block me. I think that is the definition of drop kicking someone.”

“Actually, I think it’s when you jump up and kick someone.” You joked, attempting to redirect the conversation away from your mistakes.

“I’m about to drop kick you if you don’t take this seriously.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Drop kicking me or making a joke out of it when I’m trying to be vulnerable with you?”

“Both.” You shifted in your seat, uncomfortable and feeling as though you were a child about to go to the principal’s office. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, I think I’m just trying to protect my own.”

“David’s right, you are selfish and trying to talk to you was a mistake.” Tom shook his head, rising from his seat.

“Tom, wait.” You grabbed his arm, only for him to shake you off.

“I have been waiting, Y/n. I’ve been waiting the past year for you to talk to me or be willing to see me and every time I think you will, you disappoint.”

“Tom, I-”

“You know, I begged your parents to let me come here to see you, to spend time with your family? They didn’t ask me. Once I realized you were never going to speak to me again over something so stupid, I had to swallow my own pride, unlike you, just to see you again.” Tom ran a hand through his hair, attempting to calm down as he looked away from you. “I swallowed my own pride to see you choking on yours and still acting as if I was the one in the wrong somehow. You kissed me, you blocked me. You didn’t even let me assess the situation before you did it for me and now I’m the bad guy?”

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy.”

“Really? Because both Charlie and David have said multiple times that you claim that I rejected you when I never did. That you could just tell that I didn’t like you so you pushed me away when the truth was that I did like you. God, Y/n, I’d been in love with you since primary school and the one time I realized you reciprocated feelings, you ran away like you hadn’t.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” You cried, falling back into your seat. “I didn’t think it would be a huge deal until it was and I was scared that the outcome of my actions wasn’t going to be the one I had been hoping for. When I kissed you, you didn’t seem to like it and when I ran, you didn’t chase after me and I took that as you not liking me and wanting to get the fuck out of the situation.”

“But that’s what I’m saying, Y/n! You’re always so focused on yourself that you don’t even realize how other people are feeling. I tried to run after you, I did, but I lost you halfway up the stairs and I couldn’t remember your room number.” Tom explained, exasperated. “I even tried to call but you didn’t pick up and your brother and sister convinced me it was best to just go home so we did. I thought you needed space, but once it got to be so long, I didn’t know what to do.”

“You really chased after me?”

“Of course I did. I loved you, Y/n. I wanted to be with you. I’m here because I still do, but I’m starting to think this was a mistake. I should go, I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

Tom straightened up before turning on his heel and starting to walk back to the table to collect his things and leave.

You watched as he did so, something in you pulling you up off of your seat and making you grab him by the arm even though you wanted to cower away like you once had before.

Tom turned towards you, about to say something when you collided your lips with his, the action feeling more natural than it had the first time you kissed him. He melted into you, his free hand resting on your hip as he kissed back, causing you to smile at the gesture before pulling away.

“Please, Tom, don’t go.” You whispered. “I want you to stay. I want to make it up to you for all the heartache and lost time. I never meant to hurt you and I was being selfish and that wasn’t fair. I want to try to work something out with you.”

“If I stay will you buy me that drink you promised?”

“I’ll do anything if you stay.”

Tom looked away for a moment, as if he was pondering something. “Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

“Tom, please.”

“Fine, I will stay, but only because I already ordered food.” Tom joked, raising his hands defensively as you pouted and gave him a look. “I’m kidding! I want to stay and work something out, I swear.”

269 notes · View notes

jawllines · 4 years ago

Text

He’s too far in thought, he realizes, when Ellie comes and waves her hand in his face, “Are you okay?” She asks quietly, eyes wide as saucers, “Maisey said you look like her aunt when she zones out and she’s depressed.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, one that expels the air from his lungs as he nods, “Yes, Ellie, I’m okay. What’ve you painted, hm? Can I see it?” She grins, her cheeks pudgy and rosy as she runs back to her seat and picks up the canvas she’d been working on. It’s a sun and a moon, both with rather cryptic looking faces on them, and Harry had never so perfectly had to manage his poker face, “Whoa!”

“I think that might just be the coolest thing I’ve seen in my entire life,” Y/N appears behind him, Oliver more or less clung to her pant leg as she’s reaching over his body to set a box of juice down on the oak table for him to disperse among his campers, while holding her hand out for the canvas, “May I see it, Miss. Ellie Bellie?”

Ellie smiles shyly at her — she always got so shy around Y/N, but never in the way where you would think she’s nervous. No, she gets shy the way you might when meeting an older sibling’s friend and wanting to desperately try to impress them. Harry knew as much, considering he would attempt to perform for each and every single one of his sister’s friends growing up (and each time, Gemma would make a few colorful threats to deter him). No matter how quiet Ellie gets with her though, she’s always the first to ask if they got to play with Y/N that day.

Harry still doesn’t like the other camp counsellors but Y/N’s an exception

part 1

(tw: mentions of suicide)

ii.

Psst.

Harry was typically a heavy sleeper. When he was younger his mum used to joke that he could sleep through an earthquake-induced tsunami if someone allowed him to. An alarm would have to be pretty loud to stir him from his slumber, and unless he was on edge, a mere call of his name would not drag him from whatever dreamland he’d submerged himself within.

Psst.

There had only been two things before that could notably wake him. His mum, who was the sweetest person on this planet yet managed to be the cruelest being on earth when he needed to be up for something, and his childhood cat Molly, who sits on his chest and makes it hard to breathe (which, from what he’s learned, encourages his brain to panic and wake him up so he could fix it). Other than that, he was blissfully unaware of the world for hours at a time.

Yet, there was something stirring him now. A low sound that puzzles him as he toes the line between consciousness and his dreams, aware of the blankets that cover him but still dancing on a stage with his limbs thrashing wildly and people shouting his name.

Psst.

Was it an insect? Maybe he was performing outside then -- a crowd of thousands in an outdoor field to see him for... .what was it that he did again?

Psst.

Oh, he’s dreaming, isn’t he? How deep in his dream is he? He thinks this is the first time he’s ever been asleep and realized that he was asleep...he could probably conjure something up, right? Manifest something that he’s always wanted, try his hand in lucid dreaming. If only he could focus apart from the insect zipping past his eardrum.

Harry, please wake up, we’re being haunted -- or murdered, or something.

Harry’s eyelids flutter like swallowtail wings, his gaze blurry and unfocused as he comes to. He’s confused, piecing together the puzzle that always presents to him when he’s just woken up and has to readjust to the world around him. The whole process of it took nothing more than 10 seconds, maybe 15 if he’s really out of it, but that’s only because thoughts run through his mind at a hundred miles a minute.

What time is it? The room around him his pitch-black apart from a very small amount of light illuminating beneath the curtain covering the window he’s beneath, so it couldn’t be morning. Potentially early morning, but he would say that would be 3-4 AM. Did he need to be up? He didn’t think so, actually, because there’s no alarm buzzing him awake and as far as he’s concerned, he hadn’t signed up for any early morning shifts at the bookstore as of late. The last time he went in at 5 to open up shop while the owner was on vacation and Harry was more or less ran down by a mother raccoon when he’d stumbled upon her babies after getting out of his car -- Harry had been reluctant to go before sunrise since.

Where was he? He knows he’s not at home, that’s for sure. The sheets smell like him but not him enough to be at his own place -- and the bedding isn’t as soft either. He knows he hasn’t passed out at someone’s house because he only does that if the person is close enough to him that he would recognize their scent, or if he was too drunk to get home, but that was usually accompanied by a wicked headache and a sour stomach. No, where he was smelled like wood and generic fabric softener. There was an air conditioning unit that rattled and rumbled from where it was fixed to the wall, he felt a tension in his neck that he only experienced at one place and, yeah, he was at the camp.

He was at camp, in a cabin with Y/N, who slept with the lamp on because she hated the dark, was the owner of the voice that had woken him up in the inky black room.

“Hm?” He hums, brows pinching as he lets his eyes shut again, only to open them a few seconds later, “Wha’s wrong? Why is your light off?”

“I don’t know,” her voice is still just a bit over a whisper, and Harry wonders why she doesn’t just speak up now that she knows he’s awake, “I woke up a little bit ago and thought maybe there was a storm that knocked the power out or something, but I checked the weather and it’s been clear skies all night. I think our power line was cut which is like -- straight out of a horror film.”

Harry sighs, a bit of him regretting the number of horror movies they’ve been watching once they finally got to watch Midsommar (in three days, they’d sifted through six different movies -- two movies a night and each one managed to horrify Y/N more than the last). He begins to press himself from the bed, his eyes adjusting to the dark around them, making out slivers of shadows, “I’ll go check --”

“No! Are you crazy?” He hears her bed frameshift with her as she moves, “That’s just asking for a maniac to come for us. Plus I keep hearing noises and I can’t tell if it’s like...like little raccoon feet or a one-armed hook man.”

“Alright, then go back to bed.” Harry begins to lower back down to the mattress but a sharp whine leaves her throat, “It’s dark when you close your eyes.” It’s silent for a moment, but then Harry feels a bead of guilt dribble through his body. He sighs, reaching up and wiping his hand down his face, “What do you want to do, yeah? If you don’t want me to go out there. Do you want to stay up?”

She’s quiet, Harry is straying further and further from the state he would’ve been in to fall right back into his dreams but he tries to wipe away the irritation the best he could. What he reminds himself is that four days prior, Y/N had trekked out in the forest toward a lake despite her unremitting distaste for the woods in the dark and slapped Jack clean across the face because he was being rude to him. And he was going to ignore her? Fall asleep while she’s frightened? Harry could be a prick, but he wasn’t the bleeding antichrist.

“I...um, well, I don’t want us to stay up, no, we’ll be so cranky tomorrow,” she shuffles in the sheets, “I dunno’, I’m sorry, you can go back to bed, I’ll be okay.”

Harry isn’t sure what to do but in his half-awake state, the next few words that leave his mouth seem like just the temporary fix necessary for them to get the last few hours of sleep that they can, “Do you want me to read you a story or summat?”

She giggles quietly, “No, it’s okay, really, go back to sleep, okay?”

What Harry could have said was I can’t now, knowing that you’re awake and scared, but instead he utters a simple, “No.” He sits back up, patting blindly for his phone in his sheets, slipping his fingers around it, and tapping it awake. His screen blinds him with its brightness, so he lowers it before finding the flashlight. It lights up the floor at his feet and subsequently at its edges, he can make out Y/N’s shadowy figure. She’s sat up, curled in her blanket, wrapped around her head, and giving her a pseudo-nun appearance. She waves at him lamely and he struggles not to roll his eyes, “Maniac be damned, I’m gonna go out there and look for the breaker. Maybe the arseholes broke their vow of integrity.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Jack or one of the others came around and switched the breaker off, just to be inconvenient for the morning. They’d left them alone for four days sure, but Harry figures that it’s not so much four days of silent reflection and questioning why they feel the need to be such pricks to him, and more so four days for their anger to fester and brew. If not for the fact that Y/N slapped him then made him find laundry detergent and commanded the others to go get his clothes, then for the way she acted like nothing had happened the day prior. Jack’s cheek was still a stingy, red splotch, Oliver and Brandon were straight-faced looking irritated, and Y/N -- well, Y/N had never been more content with her day. She was having a blast with her kids playing bean bag toss, they did their little dance when one of them got it in the hole of the board, and when they were all getting drinks, Y/N offered to grab Harry his. He watched as she went to the cooler around the same time Jack did, they both reached for the last Dr. Pepper, and Y/N plucked it up and handed it to him before grabbing both her, Harry, and Mitch’s lemonades.

He thinks it’s the sincerity that she holds, that would aggravate him had he been in their shoes. Y/N was completely unbothered by the night prior and Harry could tell, just like when he doesn’t reciprocate their maleficent tendencies towards them -- it was digging under their skin.

(She makes Harry laugh when she comes back with their lemonades, handing him one and uttering, “I let the prick have the last Dr. Pepper, and I’m regretting it.”)

And while he’s hoping that they haven’t turned their target to her out of spite, he wouldn’t change what had happened for the world. It had made the two of them that much closer, and in the following day’s Harry had poked and prodded Y/N’s brain a bit more. Especially after what he’d seen on her page, he was intrigued by her. Intrigued by how she saw life, why she came at things the way she did, what built her up to be the person that she was in these very moments that he’s speaking to her. Harry hasn’t asked her about her old college roommate and he doesn’t plan on it either -- he doesn’t feel like he could, or he should.

Harry has lost people before and he thinks the worst thing someone could do was to bring it up unprompted. He knows that it’s probably always on her mind but even then, maybe it isn’t at the forefront of it. Maybe she’s just trying to have a good few weeks, separate herself from the real world for a while, and he would be cruel to dig up something that she may not be ready to just up and chat about. No matter how curious he is about the whole situation, and no matter how much he wonders if she treats him the way she does because of what happened. If the topic was brought up by her he would openly and freely discuss it as long as she was comfortable, but he wouldn’t give her the third degree.

So he minds his business and focuses on trying to get to know her better instead.

He can’t say that it doesn’t change how he treats her a bit though. Harry is much. . .gentler, than he had been. He tries to be less critical of her unwavering optimism and seeks to understand where it was coming from instead. If he’s in the right mood he’ll attempt to match it, which makes for a good day with their groups, who he finds -- despite the small age gap -- have begun to kindle very close friendships. Mrs. Graham had even commented on it one of the days after they had a riveting game of balloon tennis.

“You two make a good team -- putting all these other counselors to shame. And to think you were pouty about having to share a cabin.”

It was true, they did make a good team. Harry thinks that them sparking a friendship had made the whole experience much more enjoyable for everyone involved.

All of this together gives insight into why Harry is willing to stuff on his shoes at 3 AM and go out in the dark, muggy night to check and potentially fix a breaker. And no matter the number of times he assures her she does not have to come out there with him, she keeps hold of her ‘no man left behind’ mentality, pulls on a pair of flip flops, and pads out after him.

Had they been in any other cabin, finding the breaker would have been much easier. They’re typically on the backside in the upper right corner, surrounded by a little cage with a lock similar to that of an animal crate. The struggle with their cabin was that the backside was basically in the woods, so he had to dodge low hanging branches and tangles of ivy to get even remotely near it. He hands Y/N his phone and she shines the light over the metal box, her hand steady despite how she looks back and forth and all around them like she’s making sure there are no red eyes glowing at them. The world around them is silent apart from the chirp and groan of insects, the scutter of an animal somewhere in the far distance makes Y/N huff a weary sigh but otherwise, nothing comes out to attack them. Harry restarts the breaker, they go back inside, and the lamp on its dimmest setting is switched on how they had fallen asleep with it.

They both breath out in relief, Y/N dives back into her bed and Harry flops down atop of his covers, giving himself a second to feel the cool air from the conditioner fan over him.

“Theoretically,” Y/N begins as Harry lets his eyes fall shut, “If there were some creature in the forest --”

“There’s no creature in the forest.”

“I know, but theoretically --” She continues again, but Harry is quick to cut her off once more.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he tells her, “Go to sleep.”

Once more, Y/N falls silent, but a quiet, “Thank you,” was the only thing to leave her mouth.

. . .

A summer thunderstorm wasn’t abnormal during camp, which is why the recreation center and the art building are beneficial. It keeps everyone preoccupied and entertained with well-insulated walls to mute whatever carnage is taking place outside, which makes for less frightened children and an easier time for everyone involved. Harry liked being active and running around with his campers, sure, but he also really enjoyed a nice, calm, relaxing day trying his hand at DIY projects and abstract paintings. Plus it gave him the chance to wear the camp hoodie that he had spent a pretty penny purchasing, which was made of the softest fabric he’s ever felt and was far more comfortable than the t-shirts that they normally wear.

Y/N had also bought the hoodie, Harry saw as she stepped out in it after her shower this morning, and she seemed to be drowning in it but in the best way. The fabric pools off of her, but she looks cozy, and well-rested despite them waking in the middle of the night. He thinks she looks pretty cute, but he kept the thought to himself and instead asked her if she wanted his extra granola bar for breakfast.

They alternate throughout the day, between the rec center and art building, and on the schedule, it appears that most the day he would be with Y/N’s group (which he prefers) and a few times he’s even with Mitch as well, which is nice. Mitch doesn’t grow to like many people, but he liked Y/N well enough -- he thought she was oddly entertaining (or so he’s told, Harry) and good for a chat. The only times he and Y/N were not with each other were when the activities were age-specific, but even then, it wasn’t like anyone was in a different room. They were all just at different stations within a big room in the art building and the recreation center was more or less free for all.

Harry wondered when he started basing whether or not a day was going to be good by whether or not he and Y/N were able to be around each other, but he decided not to think about it too much. Lately, he’d been a little more on edge with whether they were together, simply because of Jack and the others. He didn’t want them fucking with her, and even though she’d proven that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, he still worried, especially knowing he would be the cause of it.

Y/N doesn’t seem the least bit distressed about it, or as far as she was letting on -- she’d not expressed any thoughts or concerns that they would be spiteful towards her. Hell, the only thing she had told him the night after was that she hoped she didn’t make things worse for him. For him. Why was she so willing to defend him? What did she get out of being so kind?

“I especially like how multidimensional it is — purple and pink stars? Beautiful, I love those two colors together,” she places her hand on Oliver’s head, and it’s then that Harry notices he’s holding something, “Harry, Oliver here wanted you to see the flower he drew because I told him how much you like lilies.” As bashful as he always is, he holds out the paper toward Harry. It was cute — a singular, yellow lily and he could tell that Y/N helped him draw it, but the paint and crayon marks all over the page suggested she left the color duties up to him.

“Oh my goodness,” Harry gasps, looking at the painting, flipping it to Oliver and pointing at it, “You did this?” Oliver nodded excitedly, “It’s gorgeous.”

“I think our groups are the best artists,” Y/N motions to her table, only a meter away from them all working diligently on their projects, “Charlotte is over there doing an artistic interpretation of the both of us, we are not allowed to see it until she’s finished. Mikey is doing his own rendition of Disney world, I see Maisey is creating a beautiful tree -- Noah is that a cowboy you’re drawing?”

Noah barely looks up from his paper, very carefully dragging the tip of the marker in a circle, “Yes.”

“And Noah is drawing a cowboy! Modern-day Van Gogh’s, all of them.” Harry smiles as Y/N drags a stool up beside him, positioning it in a way so that she could watch both her kids and speak with him, “I heard they’re having one of them party things tonight, I didn’t know if you wanted to go or not.”

“Hm, I dunno,” his brows knit together as he lightly scratches a mosquito bite on the inside of his forearm, “Do you feel comfortable with going after what happened last time?”

She suckles her bottom lip into her mouth, gnawing on it as she nods her head, “Mhm,” she looks around them for a second, making sure that none of the kids are paying attention to them before she lowers her voice, “Mitch said that you used to go to all of them last year, and would like -- have a good time. I hope that I’m not ruining that for you.”

“How would you be ruining it for me?” It’s true, Harry hasn’t gone to any of the parties that they’ve been doing since the very first one he’d escorted Y/N away from. Not for any other reason apart from he was just spending time and hanging out with Y/N, or he’d be too knackered to even think about leaving the nice, cool setting of their cabin to be in the muggy heat with drunk college students. He had much more fun not attending, and other nights Mitch would come around and chill with them too. . .he had all he needed then. Didn’t need the booze for a good time.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t know if you weren’t going ‘cos of what happened the first time and you felt like you couldn’t leave me out or. . or something like that.”

Harry shook his head, “No,” he answers, “We can go tonight if you would like, but it’s unnecessary for me. I’m good either way.”

Although Y/N appears unconvinced, they have little time to go further into the topic because Charlotte is running up to them, a big grin on her face, “I finished!”

“Well give it here,” Harry holds out his hand, waving her over, “Let’s see it.”

On the paper are stick figure versions of he and Y/N, with big grins and 12 other little stick figures surrounding them. Above Harry’s stick figure, there’s a pink arrow and a very five-year-old esque writing of HUSBAD (Harry presumes it’s supposed to be husband), and above Y/N’s in the same fashion, she’s written WYFE. It’s then Harry realizes that Y/N’s figure has a veil on and Harry’s has a bowtie, “This is for you twos wedding! So thens when they take pictures you can has this one.” Charlotte chirps brightly and Y/N and Harry both cast each other a disbelieving glance.

“Whoaaaaa,” Y/N is the first to break their silence, a smile pulling at her lips, “This is really good Charlotte! I didn’t know Harry and I were getting married, though.”

Charlotte nods quickly, still grinning at them, her bottom canine missing as she gleams, “Me n’ Mikey thinks you should!”

Y/N turns toward him, nodding toward Charlotte, “Well, the god’s have spoken. Where’s my ring?”

Harry coughs on a laugh as he hands the paper back to Charlotte, “This is really good, Bug. Why don’t you and Oliver go help Josie finish her coloring pages, hm?”

The both of them head the short way back to their table, hiking up on the small stools and Harry makes sure they’re all settled before he turned back to face Y/N, who was biting down on a grin, “Don’t start --” he began but she’s already started, shaking her head.

“Listen, it’s okay to be in love with me, but you should really try to tone it down. . .the kids are starting to notice.”

Harry scoffs before he proceeds to tease her,, “How d’ya know they aren’t basing it off your actions, huh? Giving me love eyes every couple minutes like nobody would see.”

Y/N mocks offense to his words and he tries to keep up the facade, but his sheer delight for getting in a teasing match with her overcomes him and he can’t help his smile. Harry loved teasing people -- loved making them flustered or reducing them to a bashful mess by his words alone. Y/N, however, was much less into flustered gazes and sheepish tendencies, and more so ready and willing to give him it right back. He’d met his match -- if he teases her she’s teasing right back (if she hadn’t started it in the first place), and both of them found mutual pleasure in it.

“You can’t use my love eyes against me, I can’t help but give them to everyone I’ve ever met” she tells him, feigning sincerity before an additional anecdote, “You know my college roomie always told me they’d get me in trouble one day, and she had never been more right, ‘cos they did once at a party. She wouldn’t shut up about it weeks after it’d happened.”

Harry feels his body tense just a bit at the mention of her, and he tries not to let it show on his face that he’s surprised how she so casually brought her up, “Yeah? What’s the story?”

“The little ears around us suggest that I tell that story later,” she checks her watch, before looking back up at him, “Oi, we’ve got five minutes until we’re in the rec center. You get to pick what we all do since I picked the last rotation.”

. . .

This time when they’re on their way to the party, Harry lets Y/N walk in front of him as he directs where she was to go. Opposed to when they had first made this journey together, Harry feels far more protective of her than he originally had. Plus, he’d seen how clumsy she could be and after the earlier storm, the softened dirt and broken off tree branches from the billows of wind made for a much harder terrain to navigate, so he felt more comfortable being able to reach out to catch her if need be.

Harry was wary of going to the party tonight but Y/N had been borderline insistent that they attend, “Mitch says he misses you at these things and Niall told me he could only stand Shaun theorizing about the universe and us not being the only life form so many times before he snaps. I say we’re needed.” Harry never minded free drinks, and a potential fuck at the end of the night, so he wasn’t all too worried that he would be having a good time. He just hoped that the others would allow Y/N to have a good time. And he knows he’s being paranoid, because they hadn’t necessarily targeted her for anything prior to or after the lake incident, but he still worries. . .he can’t help but worry.

But he wouldn’t hover. Once they got to the clearing, he helped Y/N get her drink and she sought off after Niall while Harry went over to Mitch, the two of them promising to meet up again in a little bit. He didn’t hover, but he did watch semi-closely, eyeballing Jack and the others, making sure they were staying away from her. Apart from a few less than friendly looks thrown in his direction though, they seemed to be keeping to themselves which Harry was ultimately very thankful for.

The night goes by as these nights usually do -- he and Mitch drank, had a laugh, gabbed about music for a while, some of the drama going on around the camp (Y/N had an ear for gossip and eyes that could make anyone tell her anything, so Harry’s had a door to all the melodramatic events happening throughout the counsellors). It was a bit weird when Stacey -- one of the counsellors he’d only ever briefly spoken to -- had come up to them, and a little weirder when she borderline propositioned him for something more than a chat in the woods, but Harry politely declined. Told her that he was pretty exhausted after a long day and was probably just going to have a few more beers and retreat back to his cabin.

He passes it off as a fluke. . .maybe he’d been making eyes at her and hadn’t realized it. But then Mia makes her way toward him and Mitch, and this time Harry’s brows furrow when she starts chatting him up. This one he entertains for a little while before eventually ebbs away from the conversation, because he and Mia had a fling once, but Jack convinced her and the free world that he was a prick, so she called it off. He didn’t necessarily understand why she would want to start that up again, or what “little birdie” put a bug in her ear that he still thought about her (as she said one did).

It was after Cara had finally left after coming around to chat with him, that Mitch began to chuckle lowly at his side, shaking his head slowly, “Jesus Christ,” he tilts the nozzle of his beer against his mouth, and when he pulls it away, his lips are shiny from the liquid, “She really is working hard.”

“Huh?” Harry feels desperate for an explanation as to why three times he felt as if he were being propositioned for a romp in the woods when he was not actively pursuing one. He had a feeling that it was the others trying to get him alone so they could enact some sort of piss poor attempt at fucking with him without Y/N spotting and tearing them a new one over it, “Are you in on something that I’m not, ‘cos m’feeling pretty fucking lost here, man.”

Mitch nods his head, and Harry follows his gaze to Y/N, who is speaking with her brows dipped inward to Cara, “A few days ago she’d been asking me and Niall what you were like last year, and we told her just the same, jus’ a lot more ‘fornication’ is how Niall put it,” he smirks softly with a shake of his head, “And she seemed all concerned, asking us if we thought she was holdin’ you back or something. Personally, I told her if you wanted to sleep with someone you would have whether she were around or not but she didn’t seem very convinced.” A snort leaves him as he motions towards her again, still as amused by her ideas as he had been when she’d first explained them, “Guess she’s trying to set you up.”

“Oh fuck me,” he exhales so forcefully, it whips the delicate plumes of smoke from Mitch’s cigarette into a misshapen huff. Why was she so concerned with it? Harry hadn’t once expressed any avidity in needing to spend time with someone in that manner -- he could go without sex for three weeks. . .did she not think he could? Was he exuding nymphomaniac tendencies? He surely hadn’t thought he was -- a few quick handies in his nightly showers typically tide him over just nicely for a bit of a dry spell. And what was her business that he hadn’t slept with anyone since they’ve gotten here? Why was she speaking about him with the others what she could as easily ask him? What she had as easily spoken with him about, albeit leaving out a pretty large portion of it.

For the first time since they had begun getting along, Harry was irritated with her. He’d never been one to brood, however. He liked things to be up front and honest as soon as possible if the situation allowed for it, to stop his mind from taking an idea and running away with it. He held little interest in playing mind games with people.

Which is why he hands Mitch the rest of his drink, fixes his heavy cardigan around his shoulder, and sets off in her direction. He dodges many bodies, avoids an empty cup on the ground beside what he could only presume to be a sticky puddle of liquor, and narrowly makes it past a playful fight between Oliver and Brandon who were wrestling one another. Y/N doesn’t realize that he’s making his way to her until he’s just a meter or so away, when Niall catches a glimpse of him and attempts to be inconspicuous in the way he pinches her side. She gasps from the way his nails had accidentally bit into her skin, flinching from the pain before her gaze had settled on him, “Harry!” She cheered but his face doesn’t soften as it usually does when they see one another, which alerts her to his disapproving gaze, “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“Can I speak with you for a moment?” He inquires, motioning out past the trees. Enough trust had been built into the foundation of their friendship for her to not question him. Instead, she passes her drink off to Niall and follows Harry into the woods -- he wouldn’t go so far that they wouldn’t be able to see one another from beneath the curtain of leaves shielding away the moon, but just far enough that nobody would be eavesdropping. In any other situation he might wait to bring this up until they’ve made it back to the cabin, but Y/N’s intentions had been clear that the person he was taking home tonight wasn't supposed to be her.

She pauses with him at a particularly thick tree trunk, and places the arch of her foot against one of the jagged roots that carved its way through the earth, “Is everything okay?” She balances herself with a hand against the bark, wincing when it jabs into her skin, “I was keeping an eye on Jack n’ them I thought so they wouldn’t try messing with you, but did they say something?”

That does melt him some, Harry was strong enough to admit that. Just as he had been concerned with her wellbeing, she was just as much concerned for him, and he appreciated that. And while it does threaten to soften him down to his core, he still had questions that needed answers, and he wouldn’t let up until she responded to them.

“Why are you sending girls over to me?”

Her brows raise, but less in shock of learning the information, and more so with wonder how he’d found out she was the one sending them their way. The surprise dissolves into embarrassment quickly, her shoulders slump and she casts her gaze deeper into the forest, “Dammit,” she doesn’t hide her disappointment from being caught, or even feign confusion to try and pass the blame off coincidence that every girl who had come up to him had subsequently talked to her prior, “I was hoping you would be less observant.”

“Y/N.” He says her name sternly, and her shoulders drop dramatically further as she steps down from the tree root.

“Listen, in my defense I just felt awful!” She admits, waving her hand toward the party, “Jack had tried telling me a few times about how you just fuck people and leave them, blah, blah, blah, right? And I wasn’t paying any attention to him, but it made me curious to what you were like last year, so I asked Mitch and Niall. You came to these things all the time and you had fun -- then I come ‘round, ruin the first one, and you’ve been hanging out with me since. I just. . . I wanted you to be able to have fun and not feel like you have to worry about me, y’know?”

A ‘v’ sits between Harry’s brows, “What is it your business what I’m doing, hm?” He fixes his cardigan from where it slumps off his shoulder once more, “If I wanted to sleep with someone then I would. Do you think I can’t set something up myself?”

“No, of course not, I just thought --”

“You didn’t think,” he cuts her off, and Y/N’s arms curl over herself instinctively when a cold brush of air rolls past them, “You should have just came to speak with me about it, I could have told you that I didn’t need anything like that, and that would have been that. Don’t go behind my back trying to orchestrate things for me, okay?”

He wanted to say it -- he needed to say it, because Harry wasn’t some sex driven lecher that everyone at this camp tried to make him out as. He thought Y/N had known that too, but he guesses he was wrong.

But he wasn’t expecting her to look so fucking defeated by it. A guilt weighs on his being when she nods, tipping her head down, “Okay, yes, I won’t anymore. I’m sorry,” her fingers dig into her bicep, as she breathes out, a shiver rattles through her that she tries to be inconspicuous about it, “I wasn’t thinking -- I wasn’t thinking how it would look.”

Harry sighs, peeling his cardigan off of his arms, revealing his bare arms to the chill but he ignores it in favor of holding it out to her, “Put this on,” he wiggles it some, “I know you’re cold.” She takes it from him carefully, looking up, brows raised slightly as if to ask if he’s sure, “Go ahead.”

“I really am sorry,” she tells him, pulling the patchwork cardigan over her arms, it hangs off of her, and Harry swallowed thickly. She’s. . .cute -- Harry had always been able to admit that. Her face is sweet, her eyes exudes nothing but understanding, kindness, and such a soft glow that Harry couldn’t quite explain. He finds that those eyes give him great comfort and warmth, because now when they’re tinged with the contrition she feels and Harry feels cold.

“I know,” he murmurs, he holds out his hand for her, and very carefully Y/N slides her hand into his own, “Do you want to go get pudding?”

A small smile pulls at her mouth.

“Yes please.”

. . .

Niall lets them use the key after a few dozen promises to be careful with it. They trek the familiar way, mindless chatter fills the air around them until they get to the cafeteria and their voices quiet in case the security guard is looping around. Y/N reveals her hand from the shield of his cardigan sleeve, Harry watches as the fabric pools around her arm, toward her elbow, and produces the key (that Niall only trusted her with). They creeped into the kitchen, pulled open the large refrigerator door, and the pudding sat in rows on the bottom shelf.

They both choose vanilla this time, having tired themselves out on chocolate, and they sit at the spot they had last time, across from one another. He can tell, despite his peace offering, that Y/N still feels upset about what had happened earlier and it sullies his mood. She’s still chatting but not with as much heart as she typically has, and Harry couldn’t stand it. He just wanted her to giggle as she teases him again, without feeling like she’s tip toeing on eggshells around him.

“Hey,” Harry starts, dragging her attention towards him where it had previously been scooping the sides of her pudding container, “Would you stop being so. . .tense? Is this about earlier?”

Y/N clears her throat, opening her mouth and furrowing her brows like she was about to deny it, but she relents, shoulders dropping, “A little. I still feel bad about everything,” she shakes her head, dragging the edge of the spoon around the plastic, “About everything, not just that you aren’t able to sleep with someone. I came in late, ruined you having your own cabin, woke you up with my alarm, made you get out of bed ‘cos I’m afraid of the dark and -- I just feel like this massive burden. I feel like this massive burden on everyone.”

Harry is alarmed by this sudden confession, but his body ultimately rejects the notion that she could ever be a bother, “How are you a burden to anyone?” He inquires, shaking his head, “You’re such a ball of light that just swarms through rooms. The thought of you being a burden is akin to the thought of Satan being a saint. . .it doesn’t sound right.” Harry sets his pudding down, though he keeps his hands fixed around the cup and the spoon, “Don’t know what gave you that idea, but the last thing you are is a burden. Who gave you the impression that you were?”

She wipes tiredly at her eyes, “Nobody in particular, it's just,” she shakes her head, “Even now, I wanted to make your night good, and then I fucked it, and now you’re here with me instead of having fun at the party. I just feel silly.”

“Don’t.” Harry tells her simply, “I like to spend time with you, and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

The tension in her shoulder releases, “Thank you for this, I’m sorry m’just saying the same thing again and again. Back at home it feels like everyone is just. . .so hyper aware of me -- they’re always being so careful, or overly concerned and I always wonder if it feels like a heavy weight on their shoulders, like I’m forcing a piggyback ride.” She shrugs her own, reaching for the second pudding cup, “It’s just shit, so I overthink everything all the time to try not to be a burden, but I keep making it worse. Or at least that’s how it feels.”

Harry tilts his head to the side some. He’s not usually someone who pries and probes people for information, but he’s never been more curious about Y/N than in this moment. When he thinks of Y/N at home, he thinks of sunshine pooling in the hallways through casement windows, her spinning around the kitchen in a dainty floral dress that billows around her as she stirs homemade jam. Harry imagines her amongst woodland creatures who coax her to the forest with songs, escorting her there as she gambols freely.

He could not imagine her going home and feeling like a burden. Hell, he would have thought that she considered everyone else a burden -- that maybe it was draining to be the absolute light of everyone’s life. Yet here she stood, seeming worn, and broken.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why is everyone hyper aware of you at home? You don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable.” He says it delicately -- he means it. . .if she didn’t want to share this with him, then he wouldn’t force her, but he wants to open up the possibility. He wants her to know that he’s an open ear if she so chose to utilize him.

“Um,” her gaze does shift downward -- she suddenly appears so small, “Are you sure?”

Harry nods.

“I just -- it's not that I don’t like bringing it up, I just don’t want you to treat me any differently than you would knowing it, yeah? I think that’s what I hate the most.” She notes, “So do you promise that you won’t -- you won’t start tiptoeing around me?”

“You’ve got my word.” Harry vows, but he has a feeling he knows what she is to say.

The sleeve of his cardigan covers her hand as she brushes the hair from her face, “In freshman year of UNI, my roommate was Mrs. Graham’s daughter, Penelope.” She straightens out in her seat, “We didn’t like each other much at first but we had grown very close -- um, once she threw away my fruit snacks and so I dunked her toothbrush in the toilet, but I felt guilty and went out to buy her a new toothbrush,” a laugh leaves her at the memory, as she rolls her eyes at herself, “That was what we had going for a while, but a late night heart to heart kind of made us closer. She told me things that. . .she’d been through a lot that nobody should have to go through, you know? She was bullied a lot growing up—in high school it was bad, people used to always gang up on her over stupid shit.” Harry hums, encouraging her to continue, and she stirs the pudding around mindlessly, “And we were just close after that. We had a flat together sophomore year and most of junior year, she’s my best friend,” she swallows thickly, “I didn’t realize how sad she was. . .I didn’t realize what she was still holding onto, and she -- we went home for Christmas break, and she never came back.”

Harry feels his stomach sour as her eyes bead with unshed tears, “Oh, Y/N,”

“It’s alright. I’m okay, I’m fine as I can be -- I’ve -- I’m mourning and I miss her, but I’m trying to be strong. Most days I am, but everyone at home just expects me to be this fragile thing, y’know? The days I’m happy, and chatty, they think I’m faking it. And some days I do, yeah, but. . .it’s just disheartening when everyone pretends to know what’s going on in my head.” She plants the pudding directly in the center, leaving it there and retreating her hands to her lap, “Mrs. Graham told me she felt the same. That’s why I came in last minute -- I’ve got all my volunteer hours settled and everything but she said it might be nice to get away.” A slow, easy sigh leaves her lips as she blinks the tears away, not one drop trickled down her cheek, “It is nice, but I still worry that I’m a strain on people around me, even if not for the reason I am at home. And I’m sorry to like, info dump all this on you,” she laughs a little in spite of herself, “You can’t ask me things, unless you want an hour long explanation.”

Harry reaches out his hand for her, for the second time that night, and once again she slowly slips their fingers together, “Thank you for sharing that with me, I know it must have been hard,” he squeezes her hand, “But I understand you a bit more now. I’ll keep my promise, I won’t treat you any differently, but before that --” she blinks at him, waiting, “I think you might just be one of the kindest, strongest, most caring people that I have ever meant. I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt me or add stress onto my life, so you don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to try with me. We can just exist together, yeah? We’ll exist without burdens and without worry.”

The look in her eyes, was one that Harry had never seen before. One that makes him melt in her touch.

“I would like that.”

. . .

“I can’t swim.”

Harry was crouched down to Maisey’s height, fixing purple mermaid floaties around her arms. The day was not unusually muggy, but there was an additional itch to jump belly first into the cool watered lake. He had woken with a revitalized need to pry a star from the morning sky as it shifted from an inky purple to an early, dusky morning blue -- and give it to Y/N. He had decided after their conversation last night -- after they’d gone to bed and Y/N fell asleep cuddled in his cardigan -- he had an overwhelming, and an all encompassing want to hold her.

Which made it hard to part ways this morning, but he managed. And maybe he played out an image in his head where he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek before they went to wake their respective cabins, or maybe he didn’t (but if he did that’s his own problem). He is quick to convince himself it was because she’d shared a piece of herself with him that he doesn’t think she lets many people see, and Harry always develops a bit of a platonic crush on his friends at some point or another. He questioned whether or not he was in love with Mitch for a solid four days once. . .sometimes he just let his heart get carried away.

He had been enmeshed in these thoughts as he got his campers ready for their time in the lake. At first glance, a ton of children in the lake seemed like a horrible, and faulty idea, but they took precautions so that everyone was safe. Every child wore floaties and/or life jackets no matter how proficient their swimming abilities. There was netting about ten meters out so that the children and counsellors couldn’t float out toward the middle, and they worked it so that only three children could be in per counsellor at a time, so that they could keep an eye on everyone. Harry wasn’t so nervous because he was a strong swimmer, and his kids were a little older, but he could tell Y/N had been a little jittery about it. It’s why Harry told her that while she was out in the lake with her little ones to let him know, he would come out with her to bring her some additional comfort that even the floaties could not provide.

Harry had been pretty sure all of his kids were excited to go to the lake and he was grateful for that, until he looked up to see the nervous, large blue eyes of Jackson, downcast after he had spoken the words. The unprompted admittance confused him as he turned to face him, “That’s okay, buddy, we’ve got floaties for that.”

Jackson did not seem convinced, shaking his head fiercely, “No, I -- I can’t swim.”

“J.J. is afraid of the water,” Noah exposes the truth just as easy as he takes a sip from his juice box, equipped with his own blue arm floaties, “He didn’t want to say though ‘cos --”

“Noah!” Jackson cuts him off, betrayal laced within his features.

“--’cos he didn’t want to seem like a wimp, but he almost drowned when he was little.”

Jackson looked as if he could cry, and Harry shook his head quickly, “Hey, hey, hey, c’mere buddy,” he motions him over, and he comes easily, stepping before Harry who had not bothered to leave his already crouched position, “Explain to me what’s going on, yeah?”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, a frown prevalent on his mouth, even as he speaks, “When I was little little, my big brother pushed me into the pool and I went under the water and my mom had to come in and get me because I can’t swim good.”

Harry pulls his lips back, reaching out to squeeze Jackson’s shoulder, “I’m sorry to hear that buddy. I won’t force you to get in the water if you don’t want to, but I do want to tell you that if you feel more comfortable, we could try a life jacket instead of the floaties? It’ll keep you more buoyant -- more bouncy in the water.”

“Aren’t those for little kids?” Jackson inquires, brows pinched, but Harry shakes his head and points toward Y/N, never more glad in that moment that she had the age group she did, along with her views on not making them do, wear, or say anything that she wouldn’t herself. She’s got the life jacket swung around her arm as she clips Oliver into his own.

“Y/N’s going to wear one too, and she’s not a little kid. I’ll wear one as well if you’d like.” He promised him. Albeit looking reserved, Jackson nods softly with his hands in little fists, worrying his lip between his teeth. The poor thing, Harry thinks -- he used to be afraid of water too. Nobody wants to conquer that fear suddenly, let alone with a group of people that may or may not poke fun because they’re kids and kids are jerks sometimes.

Harry finds him a life jacket -- a cute one with a shark on it, that he helps him clip on, and fits it to his body with the straps. Next, he needed to find one for himself, but he wasn’t entirely sure where they kept the counsellor life jackets, so he called for Y/N where she’d been a few meters away and she popped her head up from where she was like a meerkat. Her eyes softened when she realized who had called her, and a gentle smile pulled at her mouth, “Hey hubby,” she greets him, much to the delight of Charlotte, who claps giddily, “What d’ya need?”

“A life jacket, please. Where’d you get yours?” Harry tries to be decent -- tries desperately to keep his eyes to himself, but he finds that this is surprisingly difficult when Y/N is in her swimsuit. It wasn’t obscene in any sense of the word -- in the pamphlet they get when they sign up, it is very clear that speedos and bikinis were not appropriate, and therefore not allowed. If a child couldn’t wear it, then you shouldn’t bring it -- was the apothegm that they chose to live by in reference to dress code.

This, however, doesn’t mean that Y/N’s swimsuit didn’t suit her well. It was fitted in a way that wasn’t too tight, yet wasn’t too loose -- like it might have just been made with her in mind. A simple one piece of nylon and lycra colored a powder blue, that barely showed off that much more of what she wears to bed, and yet his mind still flutters elsewhere. To unwise places, that he drags himself from before clearing his throat and forcing himself to look around the lake so it appeared his eyes were just scanning everything.

“You’re in luck,” Y/N jogged the short way from where they stood, back to where her kids were all gathered, playing happily in the sand. Beneath what Harry had assumed was just a cluster of towels, another life jacket was hidden beneath the fabric. She hands it toward him with a triumphant grin, “This was the last one. I grabbed it for you in case you just wanted to float rather than keep your legs kicking -- you had a big lunch, didn’t want you to get a cramp.”

Harry hates how his heart balloons in his chest. There was no reason to be a melt because she had thought of him -- that she had him in mind, so she snatched the last life jacket, and hid it beneath towels so nobody else could have it. No reason to feel all mushy from the way that she unfolds it for him, a silent prompt that she’s going to help him pull it on. And there was certainly, absolutely no good reason for how stupidly affectionate he feels when she strokes her finger along the heart tattoo on his forearm mindlessly, before murmuring, “You make me wanna get covered in them. Maybe I’ll just go and get all of yours.” She looks down at the ground, “Maybe not the toe, my feet are ticklish -- think I would kick the artist.”

He recruits Y/N for the process of easing Jackson into the water -- Noah and Elinor are floating and bobbing about happily at their sides, while Charlotte and Mikey playfully kick and float close to their older counterparts (if not practically on top of them). There was a chill bite to the water when they had first stepped in, but as they walked out further and sunk a bit deeper, the cold eases up. The cool air soothes them from the sharp bite of the scorching sun, Jackson holds his hand so tightly Harry thinks his fingers may go numb, and he figures Y/N is feeling the same way, if her soft, “Loosen your grip up a bit, Sweetheart, you’re gonna take off my hand.”

Eventually, Jackson relaxes. He finally understands that the life jacket will keep him afloat and holding onto Y/N and Harry wasn’t a necessity. Once the idea of this settles in his brain, he is more willing to let go and enjoy himself. It feels wonderful to see that he’s having fun, and even better when he sees the smile on Y/N’s face from this small victory. Last year, he hadn’t felt this parental over the children last summer, but something had changed. . .something that made him feel like he was a bit of a parent.

It has to be Y/N. There was something about her that just oozes mother figure for these kids, even if she wasn’t intending to do so. She kissed the bandages over their wounds to take away the hurt, she praised the ground they walked on, picked them up if they asked, danced with them, encouraged them, treated every single child as if they were her own. Harry believes she’ll be a beautiful mother one day, if that’s what she’d like, and whoever the father or mother was she had chosen to spend her life with, they were unbelievably lucky. He just hoped they would understand that.

Y/N floats into his line of sight, “Are you okay? Ellie said you look like Maisey’s aunt again, whatever that means.”

Harry snorts, before nodding, “Yeah, I’m fine. A bit tired.”

An understanding gleam overtakes her, “Y’know, I did think you seemed a bit snoozy,” she reaches out for him, squeezing his shoulder softly, “D’ya want to have a sneaky nap? I could watch the kids.”

“But I like having you both,” Jackson whined, shaking his head quickly, finding their hands once more, reassuring that his grip was tight as ever, “Please stay.”

“Yeah,” Noah splashes over to them, sliding his arms around Harry’s neck, wetting his hair with the water clinging to his life jacket, “You two are fun together! We always have so much fun -- Brittany said her counsellor always yells at them when they ask her to play with them.”

Elinor was quick to add, “And Ro’s counsellor falls asleep during art days! He doesn’t even help them stay in the lines, and they’re little like Oli, and Charlotte.”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in the prettiest little pout -- Harry finds himself wanting to pluck it with the pad of his thumb, “That’s silly, isn’t it? I have so much fun with you guys, I couldn’t imagine not playing. Right Harry?”

Nodding his assent, he reaches up, settling his hands around Noah’s arms and bring him along with him as he kicks them closer to Y/N and the other three, “It is silly. Some people just aren’t as fun as Y/N and I, Bug, it’s proven fact. They did the scientific method and everything.”

Oliver gleefully pushes himself up on Y/N’s shoulders, flopping back into the water and bobbing, “I love yous!” He chirped brightly, “Yous guys are my favorites! I love yous.”

The sight is adorable, especially as Y/N wriggles around and holds her arms out so they could hug, which Oliver happily accepts, “I love yous too, button.”

They have fun -- for hours, as they switch out which kids are in the water, spend time on the beach with all of them, making sandcastles, burying one another, chatting and playing. It was very freeing; Harry could easily tell that he and the others were having far more fun than any of the other groups were -- Mitch and Niall had gravitated their groups closer to them when Y/N and the kids began to pour sand over the top of him. Even Cassidy came around with her kids after they had heard them all giggling and laughing and wanted to know what was going on. Harry was having fun, and maybe he was just mushy, but he credited it to the joy Y/N was exuding. It was hard not to be in a good mood when he was around her.

By the time the sun sat a little lower in the sky, casting the shadows of trees over the sand and cooling them to the point of chilling. The kids washed their feet and hands beneath the rush of water from a yard hydrant, wrapped up in towels, and headed toward the dining hall for their dinner. There was a taco bar today, and Harry found that Y/N and he had a mutual love of tacos as a whole. She showed him how she adds feta crumbles, even let him have a bite of hers to see if he would like it so he could decide whether or not to put it on his own (it was delicious, she was right).

Once dinner was finished, everyone was exhausted. They all gathered around the campfire, one of the counsellors strummed a song on his guitar, they all had s'mores and then they dispersed. Not even the rush of sugar from the chocolate and marshmallow gave any of the children an umph in their step; they were all so sluggish and slow, dragging their feet through the dirt on their way to their cabins. Harry’s group barely kept their eyes open as they stalked to the showers, washing off the lake water and sand that had been clinging to their bodies. After they brushed their teeth, they all but face planted in their beds and snores soon filled the quiet air of the cabin. They only made him realize how exhausted he was from the day spent baking in the sun, floating and kicking in the water.

He trudges back to his cabin, where he finds Y/N had already showered off. She was face down in her pillow, her back slowly rising and falling with each gentle breath she took. She hadn’t covered in her blankets -- no, instead she used his cardigan as a makeshift cover over her body, and Harry thinks it might just be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The patchwork swallows a good portion of her body, the sleeve flopped limply by her head. . .he could imagine her crawling into bed. Could imagine her putting her knee up first, dragging the cardigan that had been lying limply over the post with her and just letting it drape over her body. She probably wasn’t thinking she would fall asleep. . .probably thought she would just lay there for a minute before gathering the strength to get beneath her covers.

It’s adorable -- Harry hates how adorable he finds it, actually. If he could crawl in beside her he would, but instead he ambles to the bathroom, starts up the shower, and climbs in.

The water his hot -- boiling drops pelt his skin, washing away the grime and sweat that felt as if it’d been caked onto his skin. It felt good; to cleanse and scrub himself free of the lake, massage shampoo into his scalp, soften his curls with the conditioner, and just allow himself to revel in the feeling. Showers feel wonderful - a renewal that he deemed necessary by the end of the day. And when he gets the temperature just right, it soothes the aches and soreness in his bones, turning his muscles to softened jello. By the time he slipped out of the shower, he was practically boneless and thought he’d be lucky if he made it to his bed before dropping to the floor and falling asleep.

He expects Y/N to still be asleep when he leaves the bathroom, but he’s surprised to find her sat up in her bed, his cardigan pooled around her body and a deep frown on her face.

“Oh!” He’s started some -- he really thought she was out for the night, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“It’s morning?” Her face further turns to that of distress and Harry bites down hard on a chuckle.

“No,” he responds, “It’s not morning. Only about 10PM, so you’ve got plenty of time to rest still.” She looks around groggily, rubbing at her cheek with one hand while she fisted his cardigan in the other, pulling it closer around her body, “Why don’t you get beneath the covers, Babe?” He asks her, and she’s quiet for a little while. The only inkling Harry receives that she even heard him was how she tries to shuffle and wriggle the covers down with her still stretched out on the bed, stuffing her legs into the blankets first, then sliding the rest of the way smoothly. All the while she clings to the cardigan, holding it tightly, resting her cheek on it. Harry doesn’t know if Y/N’s just far more affectionate than he had even thought prior, or if she was just half awake and doing things she wouldn’t do if she was fully conscious. Vaguely does he remember her saying something about typically cuddling with a teddy at night -- how she stuffs her face against it because it always smells like her fabric softener.

He wonders if that’s why she snuggles with it -- he wonders if she likes the smell of him, so she buries her nose in the fabric and breathes it in as she rests.

Harry hates this. He hates how inconceivably soft he’s been feeling, but he can’t help it. Y/N had found him worthy enough to poke inside her brain -- she opened up to him in a way she expressed she’d not been opening up to many people about. It made him feel closer to her.

But he told her he wouldn’t treat her any differently after finding out. And if he suddenly started expressing more affection, he fears she would think he was only doing it because of what she told him. He just wants to be. . .he just wants to be gentle with her. Doesn’t want her to ever think that she’s a burden to him, because the anecdote had made him question and second guess how he’d been treating her their entire time here. Of course, he was never intentionally cruel, but some of the situations he thinks about the two of them in, and how he responded, makes him cringe.

He switches off the overhead light, her dimmed bedside lamp and muscle memory guide him to his bed. Harry climbs in, shivers as he adjusts to the warmth beneath his covers, and breathes a soft sigh of relief to have finished with the day.

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice startles his eyes open, which he’d not been aware he’d closed.

“Hm?” He hums -- he had thought she’d fallen back asleep already.

“You’re okay?”

A soft smile plays at his mouth -- she asks him every night before bed, he’s noticed.

“Yes, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

She nods, “You did really good today,” her voice is muffled from her cheek mushed against his cardigan, “The kids had a lot of fun, they were telling me. I had a lot of fun too.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he reaches to thumb the hairs of his eyebrow down, “And thank you. You always do really well with the kids.”

She’s quiet for a minute, and once more, Harry thinks she must have fallen asleep, but the shift of the mattress tells him she’s changing position and Harry notices once more that his eyes have closed, “I’m glad you’re my roomie.”

Harry utters the words, that two weeks ago he thinks he would have spit at.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re my roomie too.”

. . .

Harry was drunk.

Typically, he didn’t allow himself to get very drunk at these little parties. He trusted the others so little, he had no doubt in his mind that any moment he was slightly impaired in some way they would take it upon themselves to prey on his weakness. This means he only ever gets mildly tipsy -- drinks enough to feel good but caps himself when he thinks he might start stumbling.

But he just didn’t cap himself today. Not for any reason in particular -- their day hadn’t been difficult. They helped their kids through a mildly strenuous obstacle course throughout the morning, cooled down with them drinking juice boxes and eating popsicles and by 2PM they were inside doing little DIY projects. Harry burned his finger with some hot glue, but otherwise it was a pretty easy smooth kind of day that they didn’t get often. He and Y/N hadn’t gotten to spend much time together, which he wouldn’t admit loudly was a disappointment, but he and his kids had all agreed that they missed her.

(And when they had seen her and her group walking into the art room, the lot of them had erupted in cheers, Noah, Eli, Maisey being the loudest of them.)

They had a pasta dinner that was surprisingly filling, they told “spooky” campfire stories and ate s’mores, he got his kids ready for bed and he went off to the cabin. He and Y/N were going to one of the parties tonight, not because they had such spectacular luck with a good time before, but because they were coming up on some of their last nights here at camp. It was a bittersweet feeling -- Harry remembered being more than ready to flee last year, counting down each day, each hour dragging on longer than the last. This time, it felt like it was coming too quick. He would miss the kids, he would miss the busy days some. . .and sure, he was happy to go home and take a shower that stays hot longer than five minutes and rest on his soft, cozy bed, but he would miss not having Y/N right across from him.

That was what he was having the most trouble coming to terms with, he thinks. The idea of them not having to spend every moment of every day with one another after doing it for three weeks almost sounds wrong. It's the same feeling he gets when he knew he and Mitch wouldn’t have such easy access to one another once they went back home. Being at this camp sort of felt like being stuck in a time loop where the outside world doesn’t exist, so it’s very easy to forget that they all have lives outside of here. They all go to class, go to work, go home, study, eat and sleep.

He and Y/N live relatively close to one another -- only about a ten minute drive up the street with only one turn and it's into her apartment building -- but he wonders if they’ll utilize it. He wonders if their friendship is tied to this camp and if that’s where it will remain, or if she even wants to be friendly with him after. Harry hadn’t considered that maybe she was only putting up with him because they had to live together and she didn’t want it to be miserable. Had he questioned if he was even enjoyable to be around? How does he ask her that without sounding entirely too desperate or needy?

So partially, he drinks to ease some of the worry in his mind. Harry doesn’t think he would “break down” or something like it if they weren’t able to continue being friends -- like a forgotten summer love that he might think about throughout the fall, and message her to see how she was doing -- but he certainly wouldn’t be delighted if that’s how it ended up. Harry thinks there’s so much more to Y/N that he would like to see, and know, and hear. Three weeks isn’t enough time, Harry decided, but in the same breath he wondered if she had thought it was more than enough.

Harry knows she cares for him, at least a little bit. He knows that he cares for her and her wellbeing; he was fond of her. From what he knew of who she was fundamentally, down to her core, Harry knew she was selfless and kind -- it was hard to find people like that, who were that, without it being cakey or clouded by something else. She was transparent in who she was and her feelings regarding most things, and Harry valued her honesty.

And she was just so damn fun. Every moment with her he spent, the air filled with laughter; she brought a slice of sun in her pocket wherever she went and Harry was consistently being warmed beneath it.

The fact of the matter is, Harry doesn’t know how he could meet someone like Y/N, and get used to the idea of her not being in his life after three weeks. If he could refuse it he would, but what was he going to do? Kidnap her and take her home with him?

He’s sat on the tree root, opposed to standing beside it like he usually is, with his back pressed against the bark of the tree and he ignores the jagged, uneven trunk against his skin. Mitch was beside him, leaning lower than he was with his jacket bundled up and stuffed behind his head, his legs kicked out as far as they would go and because of this, his foot rested against Niall’s lap. Niall was pleasantly gone himself, a bit louder than normal but also zoning out every so often.

He was a good guy, Niall -- he had good opinions, and he chatted him and Mitch up about guitars often (he was typically the camp’s go to for an acoustic guy if they ever wanted campfire songs). Harry thinks they could probably be really good friends, if not for the fact that Niall was so barefaced in his crush on Y/N.

It was obvious, Harry thought. He’d thought it was obvious from the first moment he spent a prolonged period of time with both he and Y/N -- his cheeks got rosy when she touched him, he stuttered over his gratitude if she complimented him, and if she went out of her way to do something (like when she’d stuffed her hand into a thorn-bush for his guitar pick that had flung from his fingers, and subsequently got all scratched up), he would look at her how someone might stargaze.

Harry doesn’t know why he doesn’t just ask her out, if he likes her so much. It almost irritates him how skittish Niall seems to get at the prospect of it; to run away from those warm, nice feelings that she provides is silly. It reminds him entirely too much of himself and he loathes it.

Tonight had been no different, only Y/N was dancing back and forth between them and a few other counsellors (Harry only recognized one of them , who was called Rosie and had been in his first year maths). Harry watched her most of the night, in the least obnoxious and creepy way he could, just because. . .well, she was nice to look at. He liked how her body animated as she spoke, or how she nodded her head as someone was speaking to her -- it was an encouraging nod, and her eyes locked onto theirs like they might be telling her where the fountain of youth might be located, or the secrets to the universe.

She was cozy today -- it was cooler out than most of the nights that they had experienced, with a chill breeze that had even stirred goosebumps on Harry’s arms (and he was all but swaddled in his hoodie). Y/N had a light fitted sweater that she sometimes slept in -- not heavy enough to shield her from the icy terrain that winter would provide, but enough to fight past the harsh summer night breeze that threatened to help a storm roll in within the next few hours. Loosely, he let the images of her cuddled close to him invade his brain. What it might feel like, how the knit would brush against his skin, if she would hide her face in his neck or spider around him as the big spoon and burrow against his hair. Y/N struck him as someone who liked to do more of the cuddling than being cuddled herself.

He would miss her when they had to leave. Harry worried who would just exist with her, like they had been doing. He worried about her going back to a place where she felt like a burden -- he would be around, wouldn’t he? If she allowed him to, he could be there for her, but he doesn’t want to seem pushy. By all definitions, they had really just met -- Harry had known Y/N for approximately 17 days, but it felt like so much longer. He wonders if he had known her in a past life, or if it was the fact that they spent almost every day all day with one another for at least 15 of those 17 day -- he finally understands how everyone in the Love Island villa always goes on about how a day in the outside world feels like a week where they are.

It’s not like he’s professing his love to her, for fuck sake. He just likes her -- whether it be platonic or not, Harry thinks Y/N is just delightful.

“Your little girlfriend’s not with you?”

Harry had forgotten how Jack’s voice sounded how grating nails against iron pipes might make someone feel, mostly because they hadn’t spoken in quite a while. After Y/N had slapped him, he had kept to himself, resorting more to disgruntled glares and probably pissy comments he was murmuring to his mates about him. If someone asked Harry, he would say that him and his friends were afraid of Y/N -- she posed a good threat to them. Sure, they hadn’t understood the extent of her words that night (like how and why she knew Miss. Graham), but they were enough to rattle them. No matter being in university, or within the range of 20-23 years old, nobody wanted to be scolded by a woman in her 40s, nor did they want to be kicked out of a camp counsellor position, or to have their volunteer hours revoked.

So they had left him alone, which Harry thinks may have been such a strain for them he would be surprised if they hadn’t popped a blood vessel. Even if they wanted to, he was always with Y/N -- they never really had the chance, and if they did, they didn’t really take it.

Which is why he is both surprised and incredibly annoyed with Jack’s sudden appearance.

“Piss off.” Harry responds, nursing his beer bottle closer to him.

“You’re always so ill-tempered,” Jack leans up against the tree, “Just wanted to have a chat. Like why Cassidy suddenly wants to break things off after chatting with you and Y/N. Got any ideas?”

Harry’s brows dipped in confusion, “What? What are you on about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t fucking know,” Jack rolls his eyes, “Cassidy and I are doing just fucking fine for six months, but we come here, she starts chatting with you and now all the sudden she’s ready to break up. What the fuck did you say, hm?” He nudged Harry’s side with his foot, “Fucking Y/N wasn’t enough, you had to fuck Cassidy too?” He kicked him this time, harder than before.

Harry, who did not take too kindly to being kicked, rolled his eyes and pushed himself to a stand, “Dunno why you’re so fucking insecure that you think me being around has anything to do with Cassidy finally seeing what a prick you are, but this needs to stop,” he handed his bottle to Mitch who took it wordlessly, “I’m not fucking Cassidy, I’ve never fucked Cassidy, so if you could just grow the fuck up and recognize that maybe she broke up with you, because you’re awful to be around, that would be great.”

Jack, which Harry had expected, took more of a physical approach, giving a shove to Harry’s shoulders, and Harry’s back slams against the tree behind him, “Fuck you,” he spit, “You all holier than thou ‘cos you’re dipping your dick in Miss. Rainbow Bright? What do you know about me, hm? You’re just a dumb fuck who has to be here because you’re a no good druggy fuck with anger issues. How does it feel knowing you’ll amount to nothing after UNI?”

There isn’t a lot that could get under Harry’s skin. A lot of people could say a lot of shit that he brushes off and lets go, but there are two things that he really just can’t. One of them is when people try to speak poorly of his mum, and the other, was when someone pretends to know his situation when they don’t have a fucking clue. Who was this trust fund bastard to tell him he was a druggy fuck? That he would amount to nothing after UNI? Harry worked two jobs to set himself through school and keep himself fed, with a roof over his head, just so that he could live the life he wanted to after university.

Maybe it was silly to punch him, but it felt good to. Harry reared back his fist and it collided with his jaw, making Jack stumble backward, his hand flying to his face, “You fucking --” he swung in return, only he catches Harry’s shoulder because Harry moved out of the way in anticipation. Niall narrowly dodged being caught in the crossfire as he rolled out of the way.

The fight didn’t get too far, however, because when Jack was gearing up to swing again, Y/N appeared and easily wormed her way in between them, “Are you serious right now?” Her brows were furrowed -- she looked legitimately pissed off, and, well. . .it made Harry take a step back at least, “Thought we had a chat about this, hm? You were going to leave him the fuck alone -- no, look at me, not him,” she grabbed at his collar, giving a sharp tug when his angry gaze had flittered back toward Harry, “I’m not an angry person, Jack, I don’t like being mean, or cruel like you seem to be so fond of, but I can and will be if I need to and I promise you that. Don’t you ever speak to someone like that again, yeah? What you were saying was just awful.” She lets go of his collar, taking a step back and sighing in a sharp huff, “I can’t speak for Cassidy, but if I had to guess she probably cut things off because you’re a jealous bastard who questions every interaction with another person and try this alpha male persona to scare other people away. It must be exhausting.”

Jack shook his head, “We were fine --”

“You thought you were fine. Things aren’t always what they look like, alright? The sooner you understand that, the easier your life will be.” She nods toward the center of the clearing they were in, “Go get some ice from the cooler, and go the hell back to your cabin. You’re not a fun drunk.”

Albeit reluctantly, Jack follows her orders and slinks his way to the cooler. The others around them had grown quiet as they had watched the confrontation unfold, but they soon all lost interest once they realized nothing more would happen. Y/N turned to face Harry, the anger on her face immediately dissolving, as she shakes her head, “What a dick. I’m so sorry he spoke to you like that,” she takes ahold of his wrist, the hand that he had punched Jack with, running her thumbs over his reddened knuckles, “I told him -- after the lake, I told him that he needed to leave you alone or I’d do something about it. Dunno what I was gonna do, but I was going to do something -- I will --”

“Hey, hey,” he cuts her off, “It’s okay -- it’s okay, come on, let’s. . .let’s go to the cabin, yeah? Should we go back to the cabin?”

Y/N looks at him like he was batty, “No shit we’re going back to the cabin! I’ve got to give you like a full medical look over. He slammed you into the tree, and honestly, you bruise like a peach.”

They make the trek back to the cabin, relatively quiet, Harry still attempting to process what had happened and what Y/N had said. Had she really spoken to Jack after the fact and threatened him if he messed with Harry again? The softest, probably sweetest person he knows, had taken Jack off to the side and told him if he didn’t leave Harry alone she was going to do something about it. Not only that, she grabbed him by his collar and told him off in front of everyone. It made his heart race, the thought of it, and his cock twitches in his pants at the moment on repeat in his mind.

Once they get back to the cabin, Y/N has him take his hoodie off with her in the bathroom so she could visualize his back and shoulder. Jack may be short-tempered and smaller than Harry, but his punches still packed a great deal, so a nice, reddening bruise was forming quickly around his shoulder. On his back there were scrapes from the tree bark, Y/N tells him, and a ton of little bruises that had begun to form as well. She makes him stay still as she retrieves the first aid kit from their medicine cabinet.

“Y/N,” he started, and she hummed to encourage him to continue, “When did you speak with Jack privately?”

She clears her throat, plopping the first aid kit down on the sink counter and unclipping it open, “The morning after the lake,” she answers without hesitation, “I wasn’t trying to like, fight your battles or anything, but I needed him to know I wasn’t bluffing when I told them I would rat them out, and worse if the situation allowed it. I hate bullies,” she pulls out a small tube of bacitracin, tutting her tongue as she squeezes it out on the tip of her finger, “And I hate how they treat you. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t at all,” Harry remarks softly, jolting when her fingers very carefully graze over one of the tender areas on his back, “Thank you, actually, for sticking up for me again.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I think I’m pretty scrappy when I need to be,” she giggles to herself, “Like, if need be, I would take on the Queen for you. Might be an uneven match though, she’s pushing 100.”

Harry spins around to face her though, “Y/N, I mean it,” he tells her seriously, their gazes locking, “Thank you for everything. For dealing with my attitude, for sticking up for me, for helping with the kids, for making this experience bearable, for being such a positive light,” he sighs, “You’re amazing, you deserve amazing things.”

Y/N looks taken by his words -- he wonders if she’s as lost in his eyes as he is in hers. Her mouth falls open gently, like she may be searching for what to say back to him but can’t come up with anything. He worries that he’d said too much -- that he freaked her out or something. He wasn’t trying to, he was just so grateful for her, he didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to express it.

He is about to apologize for being too forward, when Y/N pushes the short distance and connects their lips together.

Harry’s confused for a moment as his brain registers what’s happening, but when he feels that she might pull away, his body finally seems to wake up. His hands find her face, cradling her jaw in his hands as he reaffirms the kiss and lets the butterflies in his body take over in hoards. He’d given thought to kissing Y/N, sure, but he’d never thought it would happen. Not only that, he’d never thought it would feel this nice. She tastes like the pineapple wine coolers she’d been sipping on that night, her lips still a bit sticky from the residue of the alcohol on her soft lips.

She’s gentle in how she kisses, like Harry would have guessed -- careful too, and cautious with how her lips parted from him only to fix back together. A pool of heat had formed in Harry’s lower belly and rose to his chest, stirring his heart in flutters when her tongue slid into his mouth and met her own. Harry hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted to kiss her until their tongues are sliding against one another, and his hands are slipping down from her jaw, caressing the delicate skin of her throat, skating down her chest to her hips. He squeezes her sides and pulls her closer to him, feeling the knit of her top rub against his bare torso. It was as soft as he’d imagined it’d be.

Had she been wanting to kiss him for as long as he wanted to kiss her? Normally, Harry could tell how badly someone wanted to kiss him by the act alone, but with Y/N he was so caught up he couldn’t focus. She was calm and soft, but the longer they kissed, the more ardent she became. It was the tiny moan that had left from her mouth into his own, that made him lightheaded. He had to pull away to breathe but his forehead pressed against hers as he breathed in, “Harry?” Her voice is low, she says his name like a secret, “Was that okay?”

His response is to press their lips back together, but this time only for a moment, before he withdraws. Harry loops his fingers around her wrist and brings her with him back into the main room, flopping onto her bed since it was the closest and urging her to climb into his lap. She straddles him, and just as soon as she’s within reach, he slides his fingers at the nape of her neck and pulls her back to his mouth.

It was good -- it felt so fucking good, Harry couldn’t begin to describe it. He held her close, and tried as he might to stave off his cock from ruining the moment, the longer they kissed the harder he got. How she was positioned at first made it so she couldn’t really feel him, but when she tried to get closer to him, she scooted her hips forward and rubbed up right against him. A gasp leaves her as she parts from him, looking down, having lifted her hips, “I’m sorry,” she apologizes and Harry gives a startled laugh.

“I’ve got a stiffy, and you’re apologizing?” He chuckles with a shake of his head, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’ve got a pretty girl in my lap kissing me, s’kind of hard not to get hard. We can stop if you want.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she answers with no delay nor doubt, as she lowers back down, resting her front on his prick and with this she gives an experimental roll of her hips. Harry hisses in a breath as she does it again, her own little moan slipping from her mouth. She was only in a thin little pair of shorts, and Harry had chosen sweatpants for the night, so there was little fabric truly separating them. Harry was thankful for it as she continued to roll her hips against him, sponging kisses from his mouth, down his jawline, to the curve of his throat. She fixed her lips there, lulling her tongue over the skin before she started suckling at him and Harry’s hands danced along her back, stroking up and down it, feeling her, holding her closer. Each roll of her hips made him harder, and he was desperate to know if she was wet. If he pushed his fingers into her shorts, would they come back slick from her arousal? Would she watch him as he slid them into his mouth to taste her? Would she let him split her thighs and lick straight from the source.

His mind was overcome with filth, smutty images entangle once innocent thoughts as she brought the blood to the surface of his skin. When one of his hands left where it had latched onto her hip and slowly maneuvered around to her front, she paused, but left her face dipped in his throat, “Are you wet for me?” He asks her quietly and she nods through a little shiver, “Yeah? Bet you soaked through your little panties,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers past the elastic bands of her shorts and underwear, but left his fingers just past them, “Answer me.”

“Yes,” her voice trembles, she swallows thickly and the muscles in her abdomen contract beneath his fingers.

Harry hums low, slipping his fingers down further and he dips between her slick folds, “Oh, Sweetheart,” he presses a chaste kiss to the side of her head, “Is this your first time getting wet for me?” She shakes her head, “Hm, really? So you’re like this often? Do you take care of it?”

“I -- yeah,” she stutters over a moan as the pads of his fingers roll over her swollen clit slowly, feeling it flick beneath them, “At night, sometimes I will in the shower if I can’t. . .if I can’t wait anymore.”

He feigns a gasp, “Oh my goodness,” he speeds up the slow lull of his fingers, “Your showers are always so fast, doll, you’re really that quick to cum?”

Harry may not be able to see her face, but he can hear the pout clear in her voice, “It usually isn’t that fast! Just with you, it is -- when I think of you, it’s always quick.”

He thought it would be impossible for his cock to be harder than it already was, but her words make pre-cum bubble at the tip, and when he dips his fingers back into her slick little hole, he gets even harder. Gliding his fingers from her panties, he draws them up to his mouth and presses them past his lips as he’d wanted to. Y/N has withdrawn from his throat, watching him do it with glassy eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders, digging her fingers into grape sized dents at the muscle. Her mouth falls open as he sucks her juices away, his eyes fluttering and a groan torn from his throat.

“Get on the bed,” he instructed and Y/N followed without question, crawling from his lap and lying her head on her pillow as Harry stood, and repositioned himself. He takes a hold of shorts and drags them down her legs, wriggling them off her ankle and tossing them elsewhere. His lips finds her ankle first, before he’s peppering and sponging kisses down her leg, the parts that he had tended to throw over his shoulder. When he gets to her thighs, he makes the kisses slower, softer -- he suckles and nips at the supple skin until he’s right before her center, only to switch to her other thigh and push kisses up and down the length of it.

Y/N’s whole body trembles with each shaky breath she gives. She’d spoken no words until he was positioned right in front of her core, looping his fingers in the waistband of the little cotton pair she had on, pulling them up toward her hips so the fabric stretched out over her. He could see her pussy beneath it, made out the outline of her swollen lips and engorged clit -- it made his mouth water.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” she tells him, and his gaze is pulled back up to her -- she looks apprehensive.

“What?”

She shrugs, “I know some guys don’t really like to so --”

“Do you want me to eat your pussy?” Harry asks her bluntly, and he revels in the way her eyes widen, and how bashful her face turns as she looks away, “It’s a yes or no question, honey, if you don’t want me to, I can come back up and kiss you while I make you feel good with my fingers. If you do want me to, I’m g’na pull those panties to the side and make you cum on my tongue -- either I’m good with.”

“I -- yes,” she answers, her voice meek, “Yes I want you to.”

Harry smiles softly, “Poor thing, How many stupid boys were refusing to eat this sweet little peach?” He runs his thumb up and down her slit, visualizing where the wet spot had grown and soaked her panties so that the fabric thinned. Leaning in, he nosed at her clit and she inhales, “God, I’m so excited — you’re okay with this? You’re okay with me eating this little pussy out? Need you to let me know because once I start sweet girl, I’ll be in heaven.”

“Yes, please, please lick me.”

“So polite,” he suckles a kiss at the very innermost part of her thigh, before licking one, long stripe up her center through the fabric. She moans, pushing her hips down toward his mouth as he drags his tongue over it again, and again, and again. He soaks it with his spit, teasing her — he wanted to pull her panties to the side and suckle and slurp between her lips until she came — but he wants her to beg for him. Wants to hear that she wants him just as much as he wants her.

He smiles against her as he hears her getting impatient, little huffs between each moan. She whines, her hips bucking up against his tongue — he looks up to her, watching as her chest rises and falls quickly. The fingers of one hand are dug into the sheets beside her, while the others rest between her teeth. Her brows were tilted, lips pouted, whimpers come more frequently the longer he suckles and laps on the fabric, drenching it.

“Harry,” she finally works out, shivering when he pauses just over her clit and flickers his tongue over the top of it, “Oh, please just -- please.”

“Hm?” He hums against her, jolts, inhaling sharply, “What is it, baby? You’ve got to use your words.”

“Please stop teasing me,” she tells him, “Please take them off.”

And Harry may love to tease, but he wasn’t cruel. Wasn’t a bloody monster, was he? So he slides his index and middle finger in between the fabric and her core and tugs them over to the side -- he didn’t want to waste any time wiggling them down her legs. No, instead he dips his tongue in between her lips and slides it flat and straight up to her swollen clit. The groan that leaves her is sinful -- it makes his cock twitch in his pants, his heart slamming against his sternum as he suckles and her fingers find his curls. She digs her fingers within the strands, rocking her hips up to meet his mouth, and for a moment, Harry just leaves his tongue out and flat for her to grind against. Harry thinks, if he could spend the day just strapped to Y/N’s bed, willing, ready, and waiting for her to come use his mouth how she pleased -- he would be inconceivable happy.

Eventually he wiggles his face back into her, sliding his tongue back and forth before he latches his lips back around her silky folds. The swollen little button crying desperately for his attention was where he spent most of his time, lapping, or lulling his tongue in circles around it. She keens, her heel digs into the mattress and begins to slide down but Harry grabs a hold of her thighs and pushes both of them up, so her knees are to her chest. The new position makes her cry out his name raggedly, and Harry was teeming with carnal desire, and so horny he thinks he would barely have to hump against the mattress to cum.

“I’m close,” she warns him, mewling, “I’m g’na cum, I’m -- oh, please don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Harry doesn’t think he’d stop if he was paid to do it. He doubles his efforts, sucking harder, sliding down to tongue at her hole while his fingers wrapped around and spun little circles into her clit. His other hand he reaches up with and slides his thumb into her mouth and she accepts it graciously, as it muted her moans that grew louder and louder the closer she got.

When she cums, it’s beautiful -- Harry wishes he would be able to see it on repeat, how her back arched upward and her hips bucked loosely as she pulsated around his tongue. Her mouth hangs open around his thumb, her eyes squeezed shut, the fingers in his hair tighten and her other hand wraps around his wrists and holds him tightly. The initial lurch of it subsides and she melts into the mattress, trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving beneath her sweater.

After he thoroughly cleans her (until she’s twitching and jumping away from his tongue), he crawls up her body, pushing her sweater up over her breasts, “Can I fuck you, Darling?” He asks her, a small smile on his mouth when she leans her chest closer to him so he can reach behind her and unclip her bra. Tugging the cups away, he grabs them carefully, thumbing over her nipple, “If you don’t want to, that’s okay, don’t feel bad about it, just let me know.”

“I want you to,” she rushes to tell him, nodding, “Do you have a condom?”

He dips his head against her chest, breathing out a sigh, “Fuck me,” he utters, shaking his head, “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

He usually does -- Harry always keeps a few on him, but he remembers very vividly he and Y/N had blown his last one up just a few nights prior and drawn a face on it. For a moment he feels hopeless, a sad pit forming in his stomach because the thought of fucking Y/N sounded like paradise and he only brought one bloody condom that he wasted.

“It’s okay, we’ll do it next time then,” she tells him, and Harry feels a joyful spike in his overall demeanor. Next time -- she wanted there to be a next time? And if she wanted there to be a next time, then they would have to see each other after the camp. . .they would spend time together, Harry could learn what she was like in her normal day to day. He was eager and delighted, and not even just at the prospect of pushing into her (which he was also pretty damn excited for), “I mean, if you wanted to do this again, then, yeah -- right? We’ll hang out after camp is through?”

A smile threatens to split his cheeks, “Of course we will,” he tells her, nosing at her jawline, “And not just ‘cos you promised to let me fuck you. I was hoping we would see each other still but was worried that you might be sick of me.”

Her brows pinch, “Sick of you? Dummy, I thought you would be sick of me!” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at the both of them, “We’re so stupid, we ought’a communicate better.” Y/N presses at his abdomen, “C’mon then, I’ll spin around and you can fuck between my thighs. I did it once with a boy -- I just shaved in the shower last night too so it should be soft.”

Y/N flips over, scooting her bum in the air for him as she cuddles a pillow to her face, her ankles locked in place and her thighs squeezed together. Harry wiggles out of his pants and boxers before he lets a glob of spit fall onto his stiff cock that had soundly slapped up against his stomach, slicking it up nice and wet so the glide between her thighs wouldn’t be too dry. One hand he lays palm flat to her bum, stroking the skin there with his thumb while the other hand navigates his prick, tipping it down and fitting it between her warm, soft thighs.

It felt good; Harry groans wantonly as he pulls out and sinks back in, watching himself disappear between them. She wiggles her bum at him and Harry playfully swats it, chuckling when she squeals and giggles, “You’re so fucking cute,” he coos before bending over, stretching himself over her so his chest was pressed to her back as he started steadily fucking in between her thighs. One hand he uses to cup her breast and tweak at her nipple while the other he slides down to her pussy, finding her swollen little button and rubbing it.

Harry’s skin prickles as she moans, her legs falling open just slightly but he tuts his tongue, “Keep them nice and tight for me, baby,” he murmurs, and she nods, tightening the channel for him once more. He won’t last long, he knows it -- he can feel that pool of heat crackling in his lower belly. His blood buzzes in his ears as he fucks his hips forward, their skin slapping together sound in their little cabin. Her breasts bounce with each thrust he gives, she’s beginning to cum again from the ministration of his fingers, and Harry’s nearing the end of his rope.

“You feel so fucking good,” he’s just a breath away from her ear, “You’re gonna make me cum.”

He nibbles at the shell of her ear and lets his eyes flutter closed, his senses on overload. All he can hear, and taste, and smell, and feel is her. Dizzy and overwhelmed, Harry feels as if he may burst at the seams.

“Cum,” she murmurs, “Please, I want you to feel good -- I want you to cum.”

That’s all it takes -- the little push of her words has his hips stuttering as he cums, spurting long stripes between her thighs, some catching her skin, some landing on her sheets below them. His world fizzles out, static splinters through his body as warmth rushes through his veins, and his toes curl hard enough to lock up. As he comes back to, he giggles, the last of his orgasm drooling from the tip as he pushes a kiss to the back of Y/N’s head, “Stay still, lemme go get us a rag.”

His legs feel like jelly when he stands, fleeing arse naked to the bathroom and returning moments later with warm, wet rags. He cleans her first, careful in how he works her underwear down her legs before he pats gently around her thighs and at her center. She’s sensitive, so a few times she twitches and flinches from him but eventually relaxes as she holds tightly to the pillow. He wipes himself off a bit haphazardly, more concerned with getting Y/N somewhere to lie down as he gently tugs on her arms, “C’mere, poor thing, I came all over your bed.”

“Yeah, you jerk,” she says puckishly, letting him guide her over to his bed, climbing in and immediately snuggling beneath his covers. Harry is not too far behind her, and at first she snuggles up close to him, she hisses and squeals before trying to shuffle away, “Why are your feet like ice?” She asks him, her words accusing, like he’d come in the bed with intent to freeze her.

Harry shrugs, “I dunno’ I usually wear socks to bed to keep them warm.”

“Socks? To sleep?” She slowly wiggles her way closer to him, despite the words that follow, “I don’t think we can share a bed, you’re batty.”

“Guess you’ll have to go sleep on the jizzy bed then.”

Y/N laughs, and Harry feels it vibrate through his body as he holds her close to his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They’re quiet for a moment, as they both settle, taking deep, slow breaths, allowing themselves to slip towards sleep.

Before Harry could get there, Y/N murmured his name.

“Thanks for being my camp ‘husbad’.”

Harry smiled to himself, and held her a little closer before he teased her.

“You can say thank you next time with an 18 carat diamond.”

#WRITING #WOOOOOOOOOOO #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT #YAHTZEE :D #IT WAS FUN TO WRITE #IM GONNA DO A SMALL PART 3 TO TIE THINGS UP IN A LITTLE BOW #HAPPY READING #harry smut

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