#i’ve been working on this post for at least a month or two i’m not sure why

[sadgirlautumn]

Hollywood be like “oh a popular tiktok book? I’ll adapt that shit” and then they give no further information whatsoever

[bit-dodgy-innit]

First

Summary: You fell in love first with Marc. It didn’t mean you loved him more than his other alters, but when you notice he’s hesitant to front after your daughter is born, you gently confront about it and assuage him. 

Another fic set in THE SHAPE OF YOU verse 

Pairing: Marc x afab!reader, background Steven x afab!reader and Jake x afab!reader

Word Count: 4.3k 

Rating: M

CW/TW: Mentions of abuse, divorce and pregnancy, domesticity, sexual themes and content, angst, feels, fluff.  

A/N: Sometimes you need to write the entire history of a relationship before you actually write the scene between two characters you’ve been thinking of! Tre fun! 

I need everyone to know that I adore Layla and May Calamawy sooo much so that every OC I write must be intimidated and jealous of her because she is truly a goddess among us. That being said, I hardcore ship Layla and the Moon Boys in canon, wanted to make sure NO ONE thinks I’m a hater!

You met Marc first, through work of all places. Your company was doing a defense deal, and your superiors thought it prudent to hire a consultant to ensure no party was getting screwed over money or terms-wise. And it would have been, it would have been a perfectly prudent, responsible choice if your first thought upon meeting Marc Spector hadn’t been oh my God, why does the military consultant have such soulful eyes?

The attraction to him was instant. Suddenly you were berating yourself for not doing more with your hair that day, and of course you’d wore your least flattering skirt. The good news was that you were running point on this deal and would have more opportunities to dazzle the American in the coming months with your business acumen and your beauty.

Initially, you two were nothing but friendly professionals. You got along easily, which was imperative since you were liaising with the slow and infuriating bureaucracy of the Ministry of Defense. Marc made the painstaking work and negotiations your company had dispensed you two with tolerable, even enjoyable. 

You did start making more of an effort in the office though. It was subtle, you didn’t want Marc to know you were trying, let alone trying for him, but your heart would sink a little every time he politely declined your team’s invite for a post-work pint when you’d gotten up extra early that morning to blow out your hair. 

That all changed at a client dinner. Your bosses were attending as well as members of the Ministry of Defense, so Marc had to be there. The chance to interact with the elusive American outside of work was stupidly exciting to you. Even better, you were seated across from him at the table. You were damn good at your job, which meant you could multitask: you charmed the clients, laughing in all the right places during their boring and problematic anecdotes, and got as drunk off the sight of Marc in a suit and tie as you were on the expensive wine your boss ordered. 

Up until that night, you had assumed that your interest in Marc was one-sided. Hell, you’d believed it all throughout dinner too. It wasn’t until after the meal, when everyone headed home for the evening, that Marc insisted you split a cab and the irrevocable shift took place.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you insisted as the taxi Marc hailed pulled over, “I’ve lived in London my entire adult life, I know how to get home in one piece.”

It was true, but the real reason you were protesting had more to do with the wine you’d consumed and the ensuing proximity to Marc than your personal safety. You couldn’t trust yourself not to do something horny and stupid. 

“C’mon, it’s no trouble, besides we’re not far from each other. What kind of gentlemen would I be if I let you leave unaccompanied with all the crazy shit out there nowadays?” Marc opened the car door for you. 

Your heart soared and your panties flooded. Trying to play it cool, you threw out one last protest as you got into the cab, “That’s not your job Marc, that’s why we have Thor and that white knight guy.”

Marc got in behind you and muttered, “You shouldn’t trust him.”

You weren't sure if he meant the god of thunder or the other vigilante, but frankly, you didn’t care because you were in the backseat with Marc. You couldn’t remember anything else you said after that, you knew that you apparently carried on a whole conversation while the cab ferried you across the Thames, but Marc’s lips so close, the scent of his aftershave, his hand resting on the seat millimeters from yours were the only things you could focus on.

The driver pulled to a stop and recited your address, shattering the warm, heady haze of desire you’d sunken into over the course of the ride. 

“That’s me!” you called over the divider.  

Marc told the driver to wait, that he’d walk you to your building’s door. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper but somehow you found the saliva to say “Thanks again.”

“No problem.”

You opened your purse. “How much do I–”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Okay well, make sure you expense this then.”

“I’m really not worried about it.”

“Right. Good night, Marc.”

You’d said the words to him, but didn’t move. Those dark, expressive eyes had you pinned in place. After a beat, you decided you’d been imagining ‘a moment’ and began to retreat. That was when Marc, rather Marc’s body almost independent of him, lurched toward you, crashing your lips together. 

Needless to say, it was a good kiss. The kind of kiss that makes your toes curl, that feels like you’re getting lost and coming home at the same time. 

When you breathlessly broke apart, Marc had sucked any sense out of your brain, leaving nothing to stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth “That was unprofessional.”

It wasn’t a judgment. Nor a condemnation. Just an observation. A statement of fact.  

“Yeah,” he agreed. 

“But I think how much I enjoyed it is even more unprofessional.”

“Fuck,” Marc swore lowly before kissing you again. It was just as good as the first. No flukes here. The next time you both gasped for air, he reeled. “We can’t do this.”

“I know,” you conceded. 

“Not while I’m working with you.” 

“Okay.” It was all you could manage while your head swam. Then it occurred to you to follow up with, “After?”

“Yeah. After.” Marc nodded. You opened your building door, he jogged back to the taxi, and that was it. 

The next morning at the office, you’d concluded that “After” from Marc meant he was letting you down easy. While you felt like you’d arrived at the office altered on a cellular level after acting on your feelings for him, Marc was reserved and distant in your meetings. 

You cried on the Tube on the way home and ultimately absolved him. The two of you had been drinking last night, and Marc was a hot American guy in London. He was probably drowning in pussy, why would he wait for a woman who was off-limits for another six weeks? It was your fault for nursing a schoolgirl crush on him as a grown-ass woman. 

His refusal to join the crew for drinks after the deal closed felt like the nail in the coffin. Marc didn’t want to pick things up despite his contract with your company being completed. You got absolutely shitfaced that night, so much so that it wasn’t until the next morning that you saw that he’d texted you. 

From Marc Spector: now where were we?

You thrashed in your bed in delight, giggled, and then promptly shuffled to the bathroom to vomit. 

***

You got dinner, just the two of you this time. Marc revealed that the reason he’d been so evasive had stemmed from the fact he was attracted to you too, but Marc was building his reputation as a consultant and wanted to maintain professionalism. He didn't want to compromise you and your job integrity either. All was forgiven over dinner while you got to know each other better. 

You’d never tell Nyla this, but you jumped into bed with Marc sooner than you would with anyone else. It was not a feminist, nor a particularly romantic thing to say, but you considered your fate to be sealed after the first time you and Marc slept together. The way he bounced you on his cock, then maneuvered you onto all fours and pounded you from behind while growling “Yeah baby, work that ass back on this dick” swiftly and effectively ruined you for other men. 

You found that dating Mark was like an archaeological dig. The closer you got, the deeper you dug, you unearthed a new revelation about the beautiful, but complex, man who would become your husband and the father of your child. 

Revelation One: Marc had been married before. That one wasn’t much of a surprise, given his age and experience in the sack. With a face that handsome, a cock that fat, and ass and thighs that thick, it only made sense that someone would’ve tried to lock Marc down. He didn’t tell you many details about his ex-wife, only that they were married for a few years and that she lived abroad. You were privately pleased that she wasn’t in the British Isles, a childish possessiveness fueling a small pit of jealousy within you. 

Revelation Two: Marc had been a mercenary. This didn’t really come as a shock either, you’d witnessed first-hand Marc’s extensive knowledge of the military and the black market, both of which were indispensable as you’d hammered out the deal at work. Perhaps it didn’t bother you as much to know that your boyfriend used to kill for a living when you could see how the vocation still haunted his features when he spoke about it, how earnestly he wanted to repent for his actions. It also helped that it was a nebulous concept to you, you’d never seen him act as the cold-blooded killer he professed he’d been, so it wasn’t quite “real” to you. 

Revelation Three: Marc had suffered trauma and abuse. It helped explain Marc’s path to his former dark line of work, not to mention it broke your heart to learn that his own mother had beaten him, a horrendous misdirection of her grief over the death of his younger brother. She had died recently too, which triggered a whole mix of emotions that Marc was working through. 

Revelation Four: Marc had Dissociative Identity Disorder as a result of the trauma and abuse. This one took some backup to wrap your mind around, yet it did explain why Marc never went out for drinks after work ��� Steven, one of his alters, had been TA’ing a class at University College London that met in the evenings as part of his Ph.D during Marc’s contract. It also provided the reason for why Marc had sort of lurched into the first kiss you shared. His second alter Jake had taken control and given Marc the push he felt the other needed. 

You did your best to school your features to impassivity when he told you. Marc thought you’d break up with him then and there. You didn’t, but you told him you needed a minute to make sure you could process everything properly. So you reached out to a therapist you’d seen a few years ago after a bout of depression. It took a few sessions and research on your part, yet it wasn’t long until you felt comfortable enough to meet Steven and Jake.

It was weird, meeting Marc’s alters felt like a mix of going on a blind date and meeting your significant other’s family. The apprehension you initially harbored dissipated in the first five minutes you met Steven, however. You fell for his accent, his dorkiness, and the way he looked at you like you were a treasure from one of ancient civilizations he was an expert on. It also didn’t hurt that he would eat your pussy for hours and was obsessed with your tits. 

You and Steven went on a few more dates just the two of you, then took a month for you to adjust to being present when he and Marc would switch and be co-conscious before meeting Jake. Your first date with him was at a salsa club, so wildly unlike Marc or Steven, and you had to pick your jaw up from the floor when your boyfriend greeted you with a Spanish term of endearment in a flat cap and leather gloves. Jake was less inhibited than Marc, a double edged sword in that he was quicker to anger and violence, but less guarded about his emotions and affection toward you. Plus, Jake gave you a reason to dust off your high-school Spanish. 

It took a few months, but eventually you four settled into a routine and ease with each other. Your relationship was unconventional for sure, but it was also the happiest you’d ever been. You’d believed that you’d gotten through the most stunning revelations from Marc, that you’d hit his metaphorical core, and everything from here on out would be relatively smoothly sailing. You were so confident that you started dropping hints to each of the boys about engagement rings. 

Turned out you still had more to learn. 

Revelation Five: Marc and both his alters had a stint serving Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon. Superheroes and gods and aliens were a part of your life, part of everyone’s after The Snap, but you never thought that the man you slept next to would’ve been so directly involved in it. 

“You were white knight guy!?!” you gaped when Marc told you.

“Yeah, Khonshu’s Moon Knight,” he clarified. 

As bonkers as this information was, it was similar to when Marc had told you he was divorced or that he’d been a mercenary. While of course you believed him, you had never actually seen Marc’s mysterious ex-wife or watched Marc take down a target, the information had never been made tangible. 

It was easy to accept when you learned that your boyfriend was Khonshu’s avatar, because you would never see him in the suit. Apparently, the Egyptian god was kind of an asshole, and the men had renounced their ties to him just before you and Marc began dating. It was why Marc had been so adamantly against an office romance, he was desperate to build a life without violence, outside of Khonshu after years of service to the deity.

Marc had tried to push you away, even revealing some of these facets of himself in an attempt to get you to leave him, but you stayed the course. You patiently held your ground and told Marc, each and every time, that he wasn’t getting rid of you that easily. You received every revelation with a measured countenance, well, until you discovered that Marc’s ex-wife was The Scarlet Scarab. That launched you two into a row for the ages. 

“How do I compete with that?!’ you shrieked at him, “I can’t compete with that.”  

“I don’t want you to! I want you because you’re you, you’re not like her, you’re—”

“Boring?” you supplied. 

Marc’s frown deepened. “No, stop. You’re putting words in my mouth.” 

“So what am I to you? Your breather before you go back to her for superhero sex?”

“Ok, first of all I wasn’t a superhero–” 

“Marc, you had a special suit, enhanced abilities and fought criminals. That’s a superhero.” 

“You’re missing the point,” he argued. “Layla and I are through. She wanted to be a superhero and I’d had enough of Khonshu’s bullshit. I couldn’t do it anymore. She wanted the adventure and I wanted this, what we have. We made a good team when it was stealing artifacts and chasing madmen across the globe but we were shit at all the real stuff - well not that it wasn’t real - the relationship stuff.”  

You studied Marc for a long moment. You wanted to keep your jealousy at bay, you really did. So you tried to play it off, scoffing “Ugh, you’re lucky you’re an animal in bed and that Steven’s the only one who will go to that impressionist exhibit with me later this month.” 

“You’re being glib, which means you’re not mad?”

“No, I’m sad,” your face crumpled and a sob escaped your throat. You thought you and Marc had made it through the worst of it, the deepest, darkest parts of yourselves, but here you were, fighting over something that Marc had kept from you because you were envious. A nexus of both of your vices. “What are we doing here?”

Marc watched you cry, cold fear sluicing through his veins. He looked to his reflection in hopes that Steven or Jake would tap in, they were better at this stuff, but Steven denied him with a curt shake of his head. 

Not a good idea, Steven relayed through the reflection of the microwave in the kitchen, You were married to Layla and well, she fell in love with you first. Don’t abandon her. 

“Maybe I should,” Marc muttered.

You looked up from your hands that had been catching your tears, “What?”

“I should leave, I’m not the kind of guy who can do long-term–”

“STOP!” you wailed at him. “No! You don’t get to run away Marc, this is what a relationship is, it’s leaning into the hard times no matter how much they hurt and fucking working through it. I will not let you throw away the last two years of my life and my love for you, and Steven and Jake because of this. I’m angry about Layla so just comfort me God dammit! Or at the very least, call me out for being a jealous bitch.”

Your challenge sent a flare of anger through Marc, “Okay! You are being a jealous bitch! I’ve told you everything, everything about me and this is what you choose to get mad about?! It’s stupid, you should have run for the hills when I told you about the mercenary work, or the DID or fucking Khonshu, but you stayed.” 

“Yeah so now give me a reason to,” you fired back. “Why should I believe you won’t go back to your hot, super-powered ex-wife?”

“BECAUSE I DON’T LOVE HER ANYMORE!” He roared. “I love YOU! I have been leaning into the hard shit. I've told you about my mom and my brother, I let you meet Jake and Steven because I want to be with you for the rest of my life! You were the reason I finally renounced Khonshu!!”

Marc collapsed onto one of the breakfast bar stools. You went to him, afraid he’d switch unintentionally or worse, hurt himself. To your surprise, he let you collect him in your arms. 

When Marc spoke again, it was much softer, “What you call boring or ‘normal’ is what I’ve wanted ever since Randall died, but didn’t think I deserved it. I didn’t want to be an avatar or a superhero or whatever, I wanted a steady job and a family, but the dishonorable discharge, the D.I.D, the fucking birdgod prevented me from having that, made me believe I couldn’t.’ 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his hair. “I don’t want to lose you Marc, I love you so much. I guess…I got scared that I couldn’t measure up. I’m so afraid that you feel like you’re settling for me.”

“Baby, no,” Marc brought his face to yours. “I’m the one with D.I.D. and a fucked up past, you’re settling for me.”

You shook your head, dismissing the notion. “You really want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“Yeah, if you’ll have me.”   

Tears fell from your face again, but this time they were from happiness. 

***

The engagement and wedding followed. It was a small ceremony, exactly what you two wanted, that observed the Jewish traditions important to Marc. The honeymoon passed by in a haze of sex and sweat in Greece. With three husbands eager to consummate their marriage, you joked to Steven that you could barely walk after the week you spent in Mykonos. To your horror, he took it literally and you were greeted at the airport in Athens by an attendant with a wheelchair. It was a sweet, albeit a little embarrassing, gesture. 

Back home, you worked on getting your parents as comfortable with Marc, Steven, and Jake as you were. Jake started his own business since Steven’s schedule had stabilized now that he was teaching, and Marc had entered a phase of his career where he could pick and choose clients. You all had talked about kids but the concept was firmly filed into the ‘later on’ column of your marital priorities. 

Nyla had other plans. Honestly, you shouldn’t have been surprised that you’d conceived on your honeymoon, there were few surfaces on the Greek island you hadn’t fucked on. But even after the missed period and morning sickness, the positive pregnancy test shocked you. You and your husband were as elated as you were terrified. 

***

You all still felt as if you were white-knuckling as parents, but Nyla embracing her sleep schedule and improving on latching allowed you and your husband to exhale some. 

Your daughter had woken you up extra early this morning. The weather was nice, you were graced by a rare sunny morning in London, so you and Marc decided to take Nyla on a stroll in the park. Leaving the flat with a newborn was a tall order, one that demanded all the strategy and concentration of a military operation, Marc found. You both packed up all the necessities to fit in a single diaper bag while also keeping your daughter entertained. 

Your little family made it out of the house in record time. It only took 34 minutes to pack everything to go down the street for a walk in the park. 

You pushed Nyla’s stroller while Marc carried the bag. The movement had lulled Nyla back to sleep. You extended the stroller’s visor to shade her, but Marc insisted on having your baby wear the sun hat you’d packed for another layer of protection from the rays bathing Dulwich park in an early summer warmth. 

You figured now was the best chance you’d ever have at talking to Marc about his reticence to front around Nyla. The subject had to be broached delicately, sneakily, or else you may not get another opportunity. 

His insistence on getting Nyla’s hat gave you the perfect in. “You’re great with her.”

Marc shrugged off the praise as he dug for her hat. So you persisted, “And she loves you so much.” 

“Yeah, because I look like Steven,” he groused.

“Hey, that’s not true,” you stopped his search with a hand on his arm. “You have these cute conversations with her, when you lay her back on the top of your thighs. She gets so enthralled when you two ‘talk’. You’re the only one who does that with her.”

Marc poured the ensuing emotion into his search for her hat. “She’s so tiny. Why didn’t the books say anything about how goddamn little she’d be?”

“Well, she was a few weeks early,” you reminded him. “I wanted her to get over 3 and a half kilos, but Nyla didn’t want to wait any longer.” 

“Just like her mom,” Marc teased.

“And also much like her mom, she doesn’t want you to avoid her, since you make her feel so loved.”

It wasn’t that falling for Marc first meant you loved him more than his alters, but it did make you slightly more attuned to him. Your life had been made so much richer when Marc allowed Steven and Jake’s presences in your life, and you knew your daughter would only benefit from Marc fully allowing his presence in hers. 

Besides you’d heard about the last time Marc had tried to leave things in solely Steven and Jake’s hands, and that had resulted in Steven getting sacked for destroying a bathroom at the British Museum, the two of them getting shot and taking a round trip to the Egyptian underworld, and an evil crocodile lady trying to take over the planet. 

Your husband tensed, the tendon in his jaw working before he answered, “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“You won’t,” you assured him, stopping the stroller for a moment. “Honey, I wouldn't have married you, let alone had a baby with you, if I thought any of you were capable of hurting me or our child. Believe me.”

“But what’s the point, Steven is such a natural–”

“Yeah, and he’s wonderful. But tell me if I'm wrong, he doesn't hold the memories of your childhood the same way you do. He may have seen them, but he didn't experience first-hand, right?” 

Marc stayed silent, but didn’t correct you.

“He doesn’t carry the baggage quite like you do...which is nothing against either of you! And I know me and him have discovered, um…this new kink that we share, but that doesn’t mean I don't want you around. It doesn't mean you’re any less capable as a father than Steven or Jake. She needs all of her dads, Marc.”

Marc’s eyes drifted from yours to the sleeping infant in front of you.

“You each have your special little things you share with Nyla and it’s so beautiful to watch, babe,” Your eyes welled up with tears. Damn hormones, could you get through anything without crying? “I can't tell you how happy it makes me.”

“Baby,” he murmured. 

You composed yourself, “All I’m saying is that you can trust yourself with her. And if you ever have a moment when you don’t trust yourself, know that I trust you with Nyla, and I'm her mother. What I say goes.” 

“You’re the best mom, you know that right?” Marc questioned. It was your turn to downplay his compliment. “You take such good care of her. I know Nyla will never go through what I did because of you.”

“It’s easy,” you stopped yourself, “Well, it’s not easy, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but loving you and this little girl we made makes me happy to do it. So don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“Deal,” Marc agreed. 

“Good, because when my dad gets in tomorrow, he’s going to want someone to talk about sports with, and you know the other boys are shit at it,” you quipped. 

Marc chuckled as he bent over the front of the stroller to put Nyla’s hat on her little head and tie the strings around her chin while she slept. He couldn’t hide the proud grin that brightened his face when he managed to secure it without waking Nyla. 

“See what I mean?” you used his success to drive home his fatherly ability. 

Marc returned to your side, draped an arm around you, and pressed a kiss just under your ear. “Thank you, honey.” 

“I love you,” you whispered, resuming your walk. 

Nyla was the combination of you and your husband, which meant she wasn’t going to let either of you get too cocky. The stroller had only made it another thousand meters before she began fussing, though this time, more hormonally-fueled tears threatened to pour from your eyes when Marc didn’t hesitate to tend to his daughter. 

Read the next fic in the series: THE MAGIC TOUCH

A/N: Y’all I thought of this idea and then the dialogue confronting Marc when reader discivers his ex is ~Layla El-Faouly~ started writing itself and then four thousand more words poured out of me. Ooops. 

I know I say this every time, but it’s true that everyone’s support and responses get me fired up and inspired to write!!! 

Taglist: @twwcs @starfirette @toracainz 

[helladirections]

Under Summer Skies

(the long awaited Campfic)

a/n: As an alumni of 11 years of Jewish Summer Camp, this fic means more to me than anything else I have ever posted on here. I’ve been planning to write this for as long as I can remember, and working on it for at least 2 years. I hate editing and literally spent months editing. So if it’s terrible please do not tell me.

Author: @helladirections Pairing: Harry x YN Status: Complete Word Count: 37k

MASTERLIST | PATREON | USS TAG | WRITING TAG

Deleted Scene - Campout Extra 1: Lemon Over Ice

Summary: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

Preview:

“Listen to me YN. I’ll be here for everything you need. I can be everything for you. Let me be everything for you.” He took a deep breath, shifting his hand from her jaw to rest on her cheek instead. “I can tell that you’re lonely, but I’m literally right here. Let me be here for you. I just... I want you to be happy. Let me make you happy.”  “I’m so lucky to have a friend like you, Harry.” 

Read below or on AO3 or Wattpad

Pool time was, objectively, one of the most frustrating parts of the day for YN. 

Not because she didn’t like the pool or the kids were difficult - actually it was practically an hour off for most of the counselors because the campers were fenced in and watched closely by lifeguards. No, it was frustrating because she was constantly tempted by Harry’s body in a swimsuit, even though he rarely went swimming. 

He wore no shirt and a pair of swim trunks with a shorter seam than she deemed necessary, causing YN to be sometimes distracted by his honey golden skin, which only tanned more as the summer went on. His muscles looked like he could be a professional wrestler, but really he only ever used them for soft, welcoming hugs. His deep green eyes always made the person he was looking at feel like they were the most important person in the world. His chocolate brown curls were often disheveled in exactly the perfect way, the only real sign of exhaustion from a hard day’s work. 

There was no doubt in anyone’s mind, Harry was the cute counselor. Even before campers arrived and the staff was still in training, other counselors were falling all over him, just begging for a piece.

Even YN would be lying to say she wasn’t distracted by him at least a little. They were lying beneath the shade of an overhang during pool time; Harry preoccupied with drawing on the back of his clipboard and YN focused on a new, complex friendship bracelet pattern. His skin glowed in the sun, a littering of tattoos on display now that his shirt was off despite the fact that he had no intention of going swimming. And if YN looked close enough (which she definitely did not do) she could just see the light dusting of chest hair he had started to grow in the last few years. 

They were a reasonable distance away from the campers, taking advantage of this time to catch up with each other and only keep half an eye on the kids while they were contained and supervised by three lifeguards. They were gossiping about staffing changes among the higher-ups, a rumor that Mitch was hooking up with YN’s co-counselor Sarah, and that Harry’s co-counselor Niall had been hungover when he got back from his last day off. But mostly, they were sitting there together in relative silence. It was nice, and comfortable. 

Eventually, Harry broke the silence, snapping the cap back onto his sharpie and letting his clipboard rest on the ground next to him. 

He nudged YN’s feet with his own, outstretched as he rested back on his hands. “What are you doing for cabin time tonight?” 

“Not sure, why?” After two weeks, she had used up most of her easy evening cabin activities and hadn’t had a chance to start brainstorming new ones yet. 

“Thought it might be fun for me to come in. Do a little question time, see what’s on their minds.”

“Really, with kids this young?”

Harry turned to look towards the campers for a moment. Half of them were still enjoying the pool, the other half pretending they were too cool for it and sitting around the edges gossiping or playing cards. 

“Why not? Y’girls been staring at me for weeks now, must have somethin’ on their minds.” He gestured towards a group of five or six of her campers, sitting around in a circle whispering and looking over at them, quickly looking away and giggling when Harry waved to them. 

YN mulled it over. She had ten campers in her cabin, half of them eleven and half of them twelve. They would definitely be excited for anything involving Harry. 

“Alright,” she relented. “I mean, they do adore you.” 

“I’m staying in the cabin though,” she clarified. “I know a couple of mine wouldn’t want to be left alone.” 

He shrugged. “That’s fair. Y’little one always struck me as quite shy.” 

“Oh no,” she laughed. “She’s the most rambunctious of the bunch. Did I tell you what we caught her planning the other day?” 

As YN told him the story of the shenanigans her camper had gotten up to, she was reminded of when she and Harry were that age, getting up to similar mischief. Long before Harry was the cute counselor, he was a camper with a reputation, notorious for sneaking out at night to make out with whichever girl was brave enough to risk getting caught. YN, however, was never Harry’s kiss of the week. He never offered, so she never asked, and she buried her little crush in the back of her head to make room for a friendship instead. If he wasn’t busy locking lips with someone, he was still sneaking out, but with platonic intentions to watch the stars with YN. 

It was around age 16 or 17 that YN realized it was futile to have a crush on Harry. For one thing, she had too much competition and she could never really compare. And for another thing, having a crush meant being awkward and he just seemed so nice she would rather be able to have an actual conversation with him without trying to uncomfortably flirt (a skill she never truly mastered). That’s when they started eating meals together and sharing items from care packages and gossiping about their friends. It was when they discovered their special spot by the lake and they snuck out to go stargazing and not touch each other. Some of the other girls noticed that they were getting close, but no one ever thought it was anything more than a friendship. More than a few times, YN was asked to put in a good word with him for other girls, hoping that next time he snuck out it would be with them. And sometimes it was, but he had turned down makeout sessions on numerous occasions to stargaze with YN instead. 

YN never really stopped thinking Harry was cute, or sweet, or any of the nice things the other girls said about him, because he was. She just stopped putting so much emphasis on those things and treated him like a whole person instead. And somewhere along the line, he started treating her like a whole person as well. 

They kept in touch during the school year as they got older - time zones made it difficult while he was back in England but they got creative. YN knew all the gossip at Harry’s school across the ocean, and he knew hers. He called her on holidays, even the American ones that he didn’t celebrate. Sometimes they would text at all hours, first thing in the morning for one of them and last thing at night for the other. But they managed. 

So YN gave up on a crush and instead she earned a best friend that she trusted with her entire being. And that trade-off seemed pretty fair to her, looking back. Boys would come and go, but Harry had become a constant, and she didn’t want it any other way. 

As they entered into adulthood, they grew even closer. YN had always been very independent, sure, but there was something inside of her that craved companionship that she was never quite able to satisfy. Except for Harry. 

Their first year on staff together they were assigned to the same age group for the first half of the summer and from the get-go, there was something special between them. It was even to the point where Mitch, the camp director, noticed that when they were together, kids listened better, cabins were cleaner, and the kids were more engaged in programs. So YN and Harry appropriately started calling themselves the Dream Team and no one ever tried to correct them. It felt nice, YN realized roughly three-quarters of the way through that summer, to feel like she was doing life with someone (even if that someone was a different person than the someone she was hooking up with, but that was beside the point).

So it was natural that when they both came back for their second summer on staff, they were smart enough to equip themselves with cheap little walkie-talkies so they could stay in touch throughout the day and night, seeing as there was no cell service out in nature. Without some lame asshole trying to take advantage of her, YN found herself clinging to Harry even more than the year prior. If he noticed, he never said anything, and he seemed to enjoy being with her at least equally as much. Harry never tried to change her mind about anything important, never tried to pry if she made it clear she wanted to keep something to herself, and never allowed her to feel alone or unloved, which was something she had definitely never experienced before. He made it clear that he valued her independence, her strong-willed nature, and her opinionated mind. Every ex she had ever had, including the one from the summer before, had attempted to change or alter some aspect of who she was, and Harry never did. Instead of trying to reel her in and make her fit into a specific place in his life, the two of them were equally part of each other’s lives, cheering each other on and supporting one another in whatever they were doing or saying or thinking. 

To no one’s surprise, they were placed in the same age group together again, too. Unfortunately, they were given the most difficult age group - 11 and 12-year-olds - which Mitch validated by claiming the Dream Team could handle anything. Middle schoolers were difficult for lots of reasons - some had started puberty and had the hormones of teens but the knowledge of children. Others hadn’t yet and felt the pressure to keep up with their peers. They still needed to be reminded to brush their teeth every night, but if they were left alone for too long they might start trying to kiss each other in the middle of the field. 

She knew it would be a bit difficult, but everything was made slightly easier with Harry by her side. It meant they could spend quality time together during the day, and when he talked, the campers would actually stop and listen to him. Plus, the girls definitely thought she was cooler since she was so close with the cutest counselor. Unsurprisingly, they were pretty obsessed with Harry. And honestly, YN didn’t blame them. 

It was like Harry was born to be a camp counselor. He had something about him that entirely bloomed if he was in the right setting, and YN was confident that their summer camp was that setting. He was fun, energetic, and he played the guitar. The kids loved him and his silly antics, and the staff wanted to be near him. He had the most beautiful British accent which made everyone stop and listen, even the most ruthless campers. And of course, he was undeniably cute.

Before long, the lifeguard blew his whistle. YN and Harry each stood up and started counting their campers, getting ready to head back to the cabins to shower and then on with the rest of the day and other activities. The two of them were glued together as always while they sent their campers off to electives, sat in the daily staff meeting, played sports on the field, and wrangled everyone for dinner. And they walked together leading the group to their evening activity for the day. Which at the three-week mark in the summer was a talent show in front of the campfire. 

The talent show was a camper favorite and the counselors even came up with a clever name for it a few years ago - Talents Under The Sky (TUTS). So, after every act instead of applauding the audience would “tut, tut, tut” as if they were disciplining a toddler. It made no sense, but everyone bought into it and it brought out laughter so it was definitely a winner as far as Mitch was concerned. 

YN was mostly relieved that she was going through this with kids that were old enough to have actual real talents, and not the 8-year-olds that all insisted on doing skits about nothing that made no sense while speaking too quietly for anyone to hear. Her campers sang songs, did gymnastics, and told jokes. One of Harry’s even attempted to rap. He was a total mess, but you’d never know based on the way that Harry cheered him on and congratulated him when he got off the stage. 

After all the kids had their turn, a few of the counselors decided to step up and show off as well. Sarah read slam poetry that was clearly a joke and had the kids bending over with laughter. And Niall brought out one of his golf clubs to hit pinecones with, allowing some of the campers to run out into the field and measure which one went the furthest. But YN had limited skills and didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of campers who already only thought she was cool when she was next to Harry, so instead of going up on stage, she used her marshmallow roasting talent to build s’mores for all the kids. 

Harry, on the other hand, was actually filled with talent. As the last act of the night, he joked that he was headlining the show. With a guitar in hand, he stepped up to the stage. Lit by the fire in front of him, his skin glowed even more than it did under the bright summer sun. His rosemary eyes reflected the sparks of the fire, twinkling in a way that made it so YN couldn’t look away (she almost burnt a marshmallow but blew out the flame just in time). But mostly, YN thought he looked at peace, at home. Sitting there on the stage in front of campers, staff, the fire, and YN must be his happy place, YN decided.

He pursed his lips to the side as he sat there on a chair and looked up at the sky considering what to play.

“Anyway, here’s Wonderwall,” he started with a chuckle and no other introduction. 

The campers sang along, but Harry’s voice came across strong and clear over them. It didn’t really matter what he was singing, his voice would always be soothing to her ears. It reminded her of years past, of their own campfire talent shows, of music elective as a camper, and late nights under the stars. She felt goosebumps on her skin, but brushed them off as caused by the chilly night air. 

By the end of the song, every camper had a s’more and YN switched her focus to making one for herself (and one for Harry after he finished playing guitar). 

Harry let out a breath. “Ok.” he slapped his own legs with finality. “That was... not too bad, right?” 

Most of the kids cheered for him, but one of the boys from his cabin called out “that was trash!” giggling as he spoke. 

“Early bedtime for you tonight, I think,” Harry called out with a laugh. “Alright, I know we said everyone got to do one song but... I’m in charge so I’m gonna do another and no one can stop me.” 

A few of the campers laughed and YN smiled as she finished putting together the sandwich treats for herself and Harry. 

“Some of you might know this song, but I’m not sure. It’s one of my favorites and it’s called Girl Crush.”

YN sat on a bench, her own s’more in hand as she gazed up at Harry in front of her. Curled in on herself and her sweater to keep warm, YN admired the way the stars framed his face. She could feel a bit of marshmallow finding its place on the corner of her mouth, but she didn’t mind - the treat in her hand tasted good and the majority of her attention was on Harry and his guitar. 

His voice sounded beautiful with everything he sang, but for some reason on this last song, YN felt completely enraptured by his angelic tones. He belted out notes that she didn’t think he could reach, lyrics clear and melody soothing. And if she didn’t know any better, YN could swear he was looking over in her direction a little too often. 

There was a moment at the end of the song - all the campers and staff were silent as Harry was singing softly, his gaze directed at YN, eyes wide and unblinking. He finished the last word, strummed the last chord, and in that moment, it looked like he was going to say something. Taking a breath, he opened his mouth, but no words came out. His audience waited for a beat or two, expecting him to say something with finality, but he didn’t. All he did was cock his head to the side, look into YN’s eyes, and sigh. 

“Alright, a round of applause for all of our very talented friends tonight!” Sarah called out, breaking up the moment. 

Harry blinked a few times and turned his attention back to the rest of the group, clapping along with the campers. He stood up and walked off the stage, removed the guitar strap from his chest, and went to sit next to YN, taking the s’more out of her hands with a small smile of thanks but not saying anything.

When YN got her campers back to the cabin after closing circle, they were still hyped up from TUTS, but mostly they were gushing over Harry’s singing. 

“He sounded so pretty and his hair looked so cute!” 

“Oh my gosh did you guys see the way he was looking at YN while he sang that last song? He’s totally in love with her!”

YN realized it was time to cut them off and shift their attention. “Brush your teeth please, but don’t get changed for bed. We’re having a guest tonight!” YN called out when she got her campers back to their cabin. 

The girls immediately started giggling and chatting, giddy with excitement as they tried to guess who would be coming and what they would be doing. For the most part, they followed her instructions and cleaned up the floor for their guest before sitting together in a circle in the front of the cabin by YN’s bed. She checked her watch - Harry should be there any moment, it couldn’t take that long to get his boys ready for bed and leave them with Niall. 

It was sweet, the way the girls were all jittery and excited without even knowing what was in store. YN fondly remembered nights exactly like this when she was their age. Sure camp taught her how to climb trees and tie-dye shirts and sing new songs, but the untold truth was that camp was the perfect place to learn about boys and kissing and dating, and when she was only a year or two older than her current campers she appreciatively remembers a girl telling her about blow jobs. It seemed so grotesque back then - boys don’t even wipe when they pee, why would she want to put that in her mouth? 

Finally a knock at the door.

“Hello? Yeh all decent?” Harry called from the other side of the cabin’s door. 

The girls shrieked.

“Yeah, come on in,” YN replied. 

Harry walked in, ducking his head to make it through the barrier which had been originally built in the 1930s and had hardly been upgraded since. When he looked up and made eye contact with her, YN couldn’t help but notice how bright his deep green eyes looked, even after a long exhausting day of being a camp counselor. He had on a pair of worn-out jeans with holes over the knees and a baseball t-shirt with a yellow collar and sleeves, which showed off his arms nicely.

He made his way over to the center of the cabin and sat down on YN’s bed next to her. The girls were all smiling and whispering to each other. 

“Y’need anythin’? Water?” Harry asked YN softly, holding up his own water bottle. 

YN chuckled a bit. “H, this is my cabin, I’m good.” 

“Just making sure,” he shrugged before turning his attention to the campers. “Alright ladies,” Harry started. He almost always referred to the girls as ‘ladies’, and YN secretly loved it - it was sweet that he was giving them that kind of respect. The campers quieted down, looking directly at him like whatever came out of his mouth was going to be the most important thing in the world. “I’m here tonight to do a question time. Ask m’anything you want. Can ask about me, or about boys, or camp, or school. Whatever’s on y’minds, alright? All questions are valid and I’m an open book.” 

He smirked, looking over to YN next to him. The area was small and their shoulders and legs were touching as the aging bed sagged in the middle from their weight. 

A few girls raised their hands to start asking questions, and Harry called on them one at a time. They started rather innocently.

“What’s your middle name?”

“Edward.”

“How many years have you come to camp?”

“This would be m’tenth.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Pink.”

But it wasn’t long before they strayed... 

“What color is your underwear right now?”

“Blue.”

“Boxers or briefs?”

“Do y’even know what the difference is? Anyway boxer-briefs.” 

“How old were you when you had your first kiss?”

“Hmm...” he paused. “Think I was thirteen. Happened here at camp actually, out behind the Oak cabin if m’not mistaken.”

“Ooh tell us the story!” 

Harry smiled, looking over towards YN. He opened his mouth to speak but one of the girls interrupted him.

“Oh was YN your first kiss?!?!?” 

Harry chuckled. “No, no. But she was kind of there if I remember correctly.”

YN nodded at the memory.

“Was with a girl in my age group named Anna. Though she was quite cute, so I gave her the pot I made in art elective. Sat next to her at every meal for three days, too. Finally, she slipped a message to me to meet her outside behind her cabin at midnight, when she thought her counselors would be gone. So me and Niall snuck out of our cabin and met her. We got there and she had a friend with her, so our two friends walked a little bit away. Was quite awkward, but she was sweet.”

“I was in the cabin,” YN clarified. “But we were all staring out the window.” 

“And your counselors were asleep?”

Harry laughed again. “No, we underestimated how late they would stay up. Got caught red-handed, we did.” 

The campers laughed. 

“But I want yeh to know, it’s ok if you’re a lot older before you have your first kiss, or younger, or however old. The most important thing is that it’s a good experience, right YN?” 

He looked over at her for reassurance and she nodded. 

“And always remember, you never need to define yourself by a romantic partner. You are all strong little people who will grow up into stronger bigger people. And if you really want a partner when you’re older, you’ll find one who respects you for who you are. But don’t ever be afraid of being alone.” 

The campers totally looked past her well-meaning, deep-hearted advice. “How old were you, YN?” 

“Hey now, that’s for another night. This is Harry’s question time, not mine,” she teased back at her camper. 

“Harry, do you have a girlfriend?” 

He took a deep, shaky breath and stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering. YN knew the question must be difficult for him. He’d been dating a girl back in London for around six months when he heard back that he had been hired to work at camp for another summer. She didn’t want to come with him. She didn’t want to do long distance. She didn’t want him to leave. 

Harry called YN out of the blue one day - well it was the middle of the night for him, that’s why he said he called her instead of a friend in London. He told her that he didn’t want to wake anyone up. And he wanted to know what she thought since she was his best camp friend. And she was honest with him. 

“Look H, I can’t tell you what to do. But I want you to be happy and I know I’ve never seen you happier than when you’re on a hike to the hidden campsite. And someone who really loves you should also want you to be happy. But I don’t know. Maybe you’re happier with her and I haven’t seen it. Just... do what makes you happy H, yeah? 

He broke up with her the next day and called YN in a blubbering mess. 

“No, no I don’t,” he answered softly.

“You should date YN!” one of the younger ones called out without missing a beat. 

YN felt herself blushing, but she wasn’t sure why. Campers always wanted their counselors to date each other. And it wasn’t the first time someone had suggested it to the two of them. But he was sitting close to her, legs and arms touching, lounging on top of her favorite blanket. It had been a while since she had even considered it. But there was no point in thinking about it, really - they were best friends and she wouldn’t risk anything to lose him.

Harry flashed her a toothy smile, and if she didn’t know any better, YN would’ve sworn she saw a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, ladies. Your YN’s got staff boys falling all over her,” he teased. “Of course they know they have to get through me, first,” he said, puffing out his chest in show. 

She gave him a playful shove and they both laughed. They both knew it wasn’t true.

“You’d be so cute though! Harry could sing to you and you could go on romantic hikes and he clearly likes you, everyone can tell.” 

Harry was smiling, all in good fun until that very last statement. His brows were high on his forehead, eyes wide. He coughed. YN tried to read him, but it was hard. Other than shock, he wasn’t giving much away. Taking a deep breath, he looked back over to YN. Their eyes met and she shrugged.

“Have you ever dated each other? Or kissed? Or anything?”

Both of them shook their heads. “Nope. YN is my best friend. We’re the dream team, right?” he looked to her for a nod of agreement. “I’m so lucky to have her in my life.” 

“Ok, well, what’s your favorite thing about YN?” 

Harry looked at her for a moment. “I like... I like that she’s kind to everyone, even if they don’t deserve it.” 

Most of the campers let out a little “aw” as she blushed at his response. But the little one wasn’t satisfied with the answer.

“What’s your favorite thing about her physically though?”

“Everything,” he answered quickly.

The response kind of took her by surprise. He didn’t even take a pause to think it over, didn’t try and come up with a bullshit work-around answer. Straight up, ‘everything’. What was she supposed to do with that information? Did he actually like the way she looked? 

“Ok, next question?” 

“You sang that song Girl Crush so... do you have a crush on anyone?” 

His smirk spread across his face. 

“A crush is supposed to be a secret, if I tell you then what happens?” he answered. “Can’t have you telling her because then I’ll never get my chance to do it properly, hm?”

“That means yes, you totally do!” 

He shrugged. “Alright, who’s next?” 

“How do I know if a boy likes me?”

“Who was your first crush?”

“What do penises taste like?”

Some of the questions really challenged the statement that all questions were valid and they wouldn’t laugh. But they did their best. YN definitely helped answer some, because Harry for one had no idea what penises tasted like, but he did promise that if he ever found out, they would be the first to get his report back. 

They pushed and pushed about the two of them together. Something about being 11 and 12 years old made it engraved into their DNA that they would never let this go, no matter how many times both Harry and YN reassured the kids that they were only best friends. They asked what his favorite color of eyes was, and then pointed out that YN had that color. They asked what his ideal first date would be, and then cheered about how cute it would be for the two of them to go on that together. And they asked what he likes best in a girl, easily noticing that every characteristic he mentioned matched YN perfectly. 

All together, Harry’s visit was probably the most exciting cabin time they had ever had. They were pretty riled up by the end of it when YN noticed it was ten minutes past their bedtime and forced the session to a close. 

“You can ask me any questions, any time you want. I’m a safe, open book, alright?” he promised them.

“Except not who you like!” 

“Still gotta keep some things to myself, hm?” he said, looking directly at YN. 

After Harry left, YN spent over half an hour getting the campers settled down and ready for bed. All in all, they were good kids, even if tweens were generally awful. At least her kids listened pretty well and everyone took showers. That’s all she could really ask of them. 

She turned the lights out, saying goodnight and walking back over to her bed area. Technically, counselors were supposed to stay inside the cabin if it was their turn for bed watch. But YN’s co-counselor was on a night off, and she hadn’t had a spare minute to herself for far too long, so she changed into her PJs, grabbed her phone, and snuck out the back door. 

Her quiet escape was almost ruined, though, when she walked directly into another body and gasped louder than she meant to. 

Harry put his hand over her mouth as fast as he could.

“Don’t let them hear you,” he whispered. 

She smiled, and Harry let his hand slowly drop away. 

“Scared me, H,” she told him as quietly as she could manage. “This is what the walkies are for, aren’t they?”

He chuckled a bit, taking half a step back and nodding towards the half-wall built in to support the hill a few feet away. They sat together for a moment in silence, looking at the window and listening for any movement that might be coming from inside the cabin. Only when they were both convinced the kids were still in bed did YN released the breath she was holding and turned to face Harry.

“The girls had fun tonight, I think,” she whispered softly. 

Harry smirked. “So did I.”

“After you left they asked me what boxer briefs were.” She paused for a moment, laughing at the ridiculous way the question sounded as it came out of her camper’s mouth. “Led to quite an interesting discussion, I think.”

“Oh, I bet. You’ll have to give me your notes on it later,” he responded.

YN realized she was still holding onto her phone, so she slipped it into her back pocket. She had wanted to come out here to be alone, but being with Harry was undoubtedly better.

“You know,” she started, looking straight ahead towards the cabin. “They’ve been telling me to date you all week.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, probably should’a warned you about that.”

She turned back to see him shrug. 

“Didn’t mind the question that much, really.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why would I mind?”

Because you would never want to date me. Because I could never compare to your ex. Because every straight girl on staff is plotting how to get into your pants. Because we’ve been best friends for years and I gave up hope on anything romantic between us ages ago. Because everyone I’ve ever been with has made it clear that in some way, I’m too much for them.

“Dunno,” she lied. “Kids can make things like that a bit awkward, ya know?”

Harry responded with a noncommittal hum. “I don’t know. They’re just kids - they have crushes and want to start dating and so they project that onto us. ‘S natural.”

“I guess... Sounded good at TUTS tonight,” she tried to change the subject.

“Thanks, love that song. It means... a lot to me...” 

YN nodded, kicking a pebble lightly with her toe. 

“Did you mean what you said when they asked you about the crush?”

“Which part?”

“The part where... well you said you had one but you wouldn’t tell...”

Harry chuckled a bit. “Course I won't tell a bunch of kids like that. When it’s time to tell her I like her, she’ll know.” 

YN looked up at the sky as she contemplated what that meant - that he had already fallen for someone else and her chances with him (that she definitely wasn’t hoping for) were all but forgotten. The feeling wasn’t new, but it meant that maybe one day, sooner than she would like, her place beside him would be replaced with someone else and she would be out on her own again. Which, honestly, was ok. She had gone this long by herself, she could do it again. But she couldn’t deny that she would miss having someone next to her, physically and metaphorically. 

The sun had gone down long ago, and the stars were shining bright above them. That’s one thing she especially loved about camp - the nighttime stars. They were so much clearer than in the city. It was easy to get lost in them if she allowed herself - not unlike Harry’s eyes when he gave her that special look filled with softness and care and something else could never quite place. His eyes were probably made of stardust, she thought. Like someone had snatched one out of the sky, ground it up into little tiny flecks, and scattered them around his face as a little baby. And now, years later, those flakes were still present as shiny spots in his irises, in freckles on his nose, in the little mole under the corner of his mouth. 

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring at the sky before Harry nudged her. 

“Oh, sorry.”

“Lookin’ at the stars again?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. 

“Hey,” he brought her attention back to him. “What do you say we go stargazing tomorrow night? You’ll be off, right?”

It had been a long time since they had gone out together in the late night, walking to the hidden spot near the lake where they would lay on their backs and look at the stars. Sometimes they were silent, but other times they talked about what else was out there, or what shapes they could see in the stars, or anything and everything that came to their minds. 

YN furrowed her brow. “Yeah, but you’ll be on bed watch, right?”

“Technically,” he shrugged. “But Niall owes me.”

She didn’t respond right away. Maybe she was still a bit lost in the stars, or maybe she was lost in Harry. 

“Y’cold?”

“Hm?” she asked.

Harry reached out to rub her arm. “Got goosebumps. Y’want my jacket?”

She looked first at where Harry was trying to warm her, and then quickly noticed what had probably actually gotten his attention. When she changed into her PJs she had taken off her bra, not expecting to be face to face with anyone else for the night. It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary for the two of them to be hanging around in pajamas and braless, but they weren’t usually outside in the cold and her nipples weren’t usually hard and on full display.

She looked between Harry and the cabin, weighing the odds of getting back inside, finding a jacket, and coming out again, all without the campers noticing. Even if she was wearing a bra, she knew that the chances of the whole endeavor working out were fairly slim. And Harry always had the softest sweatshirts.

“Uh, yeah. If you don’t mind?”

“Course I don’t.” He laughed as he pulled off his hoodie for her. “I would do anything, give you anything. You know that, YN.” 

She slipped it on over her head, breathing in deeply when she thought he wouldn’t notice. His smell was so nice. 

“Thanks,” she whispered. 

Harry looked back at her, but she couldn't read his expression. He didn’t respond, just let his eyes meet hers. With a slight smirk, he tilted his head to the side but still stayed silent. 

“What?” she giggled.

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

He sighed, but with a smile. “You’re right.” 

She thought she had him trapped, but he still stayed quiet. Maybe it was the kids throwing it out only an hour earlier, or maybe it was being surrounded by his scent in his comfy hoodie, but YN might have tricked herself into believing that Harry was looking at her with something a little extra in his eyes. But she knew better. 

“Well whatever it is, I’ll be here when you want to tell me.”

YN figured that he would share his thoughts with her eventually, he always did. She made sure he knew that he could trust her, that she would listen without judging and that everything said between them would stay between them. 

She didn’t know that Harry was thinking about how good she looked in his clothes. About how he would like to see her walking around in one of his large t-shirts and no bra, socks on her cold feet as she walked around his apartment. About how in this particular sweatshirt she just looked so cozy and all he wanted to do was grab her and hold tight, cuddle under some blankets and fall asleep with a smile. About how she’s always on his mind these days. She didn’t know any of that. 

But she listened as he continued on with something unrelated. He told her how Niall had convinced his campers that the dining hall staff actually have a way to measure which age group is eating the most vegetables, so they better eat more or else he could get fired for malnutrition. They sat down together on the cabin porch and he told her about how he had discovered a dusty old guitar in the back of the music room and spent a few hours trying to get it into tune, only to no avail. When an owl spoke up in the distance, she listened as Harry told her about the time a kid in his class when he was 8 years old who was obsessed with owls and talked about them incessantly, and to this day Harry can name random owl facts that he wished he didn’t know.

And she listened until Harry had bored himself, realizing that he had spent the entire time talking. 

“Let’s talk about you, hm?” he offered. 

YN shrugged. “What about? I’m not that exciting, H,” she laughed. “My campers think I’m lame unless I’m with you, I have no idea what life holds for me when the summer ends, and I haven’t even touched a boy since that guy last summer.” 

“Yeah well,” Harry crossed his arms over his chest. “Liam was no good anyway.” 

“He was fine, harmless, H,” she insisted.

“YN, seriously.” His tone lowered. “You keep calling him ‘that guy last year’ but he was your boyfriend. And he sucked.” 

Sighing, YN took a few steps away from Harry, kicking a rock before turning back around to respond to him. 

“Well first of all, he refused to suck, so write that down.” She looked up, expecting Harry to laugh at the joke but was only matched with a concerned face and a raised eyebrow, so she continued. “He just... he made me feel a little less alone, ok?”

“He took advantage of you, YN. He was only nice if he was sober and he told me he never liked you.” 

“I know!” 

Both of their eyes widened at her outburst, forgetting they were standing right outside a cabin of hopefully sleeping kids. They waited for a moment, expecting a voice to come from inside. After it was quiet for a moment, they continued. 

“I know he took advantage of me, H. But no one had ever given me that kind of attention before, you know? He made me feel wanted, made me feel like maybe I could be loved because I could do something for him that no one else could. Made me feel like even if I was ok alone, maybe I didn’t have to be.” 

“I know,” he answered softly, bringing a hand up to her arm and squeezing lightly. “But you don’t need that kind of attention, not from guys like that.” He paused for a moment, looking up at the sky before looking back at her. 

Before he could open his mouth again, she filled the silence.

“But this is what I get, right? Men are trash and I let them in because I’m just a big dumpster fire?” She laughed at the end, looking down at her feet.

“YN, look at me.” When she didn’t, he got stronger. He softly grasped her jaw, forcing her attention back to him and bringing his other hand to rest on her waist. “Stop trying to make jokes to get out of this. You don’t need him, or anyone like him. You have me, and I’ll give you all the attention you want. I won't let you be alone anymore.”

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she processed his words. 

“Listen to me YN. I’ll be here for everything you need. I can be everything for you. Let me be everything for you.” He took a deep breath, shifting his hand from her jaw to rest on her cheek instead. “I can tell that you’re lonely, but I’m literally right here. Let me be here for you. I just... I want you to be happy. Let me make you happy.” 

She leaned her head into his large, supportive palm, and allowed his warmth to spread through her. YN was grateful it was late and there were no lights behind the cabins because if there were then Harry would have seen her blushing at his comment. 

“I’m here, YN. I’m yours. Ok? I’m yours and you’re mine, and we’re going to be ok.” 

He said it with finality, and YN didn’t want to fight him. Instead, she lunged forward arms first, grabbing around his torso tightly and tucking her head into his chest. From her spot against him, she could feel the puff of his breath as her body reached his with a bit of power behind it, and then the way his heart was beating a bit faster than usual. 

He wrapped himself around her quickly, one arm around her waist and the other rubbing up and down her back softly. After a moment, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m so lucky to have a friend like you, Harry.” 

She was flattered that he felt so protective over her. So she listened as he talked about how much cared for her. And she listened as he talked about the standards she should be holding herself to. And she listened as he gave her a hard time for never taking her own advice. And she listened as he gave her comforting words, reminding her that she was worth so much more than she was allowing for herself. 

And she listened when Harry checked his watch and realized he had ten minutes to get back to his cabin and get in bed before curfew. 

The only thing she didn’t listen to was his insistence on her keeping his sweatshirt. 

“I’m like five feet away from my bed, H. You need it more than I do.” 

“Fine, but stargazing tomorrow, alright? Don’t forget.” 

Not that she ever could.

. . .

The next day seemed to have dragged on for ages, even though she knew it was the same daily routine they had been following over the past three weeks. They did group activities, sports time, meals, electives, pool, shower time, and more group activities. But still, the day felt like it was never going to end, there was always something next other than spending alone time with Harry. She did see him literally all day and ate every meal sitting next to him as always, but looking forward to stargazing that night made the seconds tick by slower than ever. Bedtime couldn’t have come soon enough. 

As the closing circle wrapped up and kids hugged each other goodnight, YN felt a firm but soft hand come to rest on her back. 

“Click the walkie three times when you’re ready,” he whispered, reminding her of their code. “Meet me in the parking lot, ‘ve got a surprise.” 

She could hear the lilt in his voice and knew without even looking that he was trying to hide his signature smirk. YN couldn’t for the life of her figure out what kind of surprise he might have in store for them, but the butterflies in her tummy came back in full force. Taking a breath, she nodded her head. Harry’s body was close enough that she could just barely get a whiff of that signature smell he carried around with him. She wanted to drown in it.  

Back in the cabin, she waited for a while to help the girls get settled into bed. It was Sarah’s turn for bedwatch, so YN allowed her to take the lead on calming everyone down and getting them into bed. Before turning out the lights, she changed into comfortable clothes and grabbed her walkie-talkie from the shelf next to her bed.

“YN!” one of the campers whisper-yelled to her. 

She whipped her head around until she spotted a camper on a top bunk lying with her head in her hands, watching YN. She walked over, resting a hand on the bunk. 

“Where are you going tonight?”

YN couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Just on a little adventure. If I’m not back by morning, call the authorities... or call Harry,” she joked before turning back around.

“You’re going on an adventure with Harry?!” the camper cheered out. 

Suddenly the calmness in the room was shattered as most of the campers were sitting up in bed, asking questions or yelling out reminders (specifically that if Harry ever let her touch his hair she was required to report back to them in vivid detail what it was like). 

“I knew you were dating him!” the first camper called out again.

YN laughed under her breath as she gathered up her things for the evening. “I’m not dating him, he even told you himself, didn’t he?” 

“But sometimes counselors lie,” the girl insisted.

YN pulled on a sweatshirt and grabbed her phone and walkie to put into her pockets. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve never told a lie in my life!” 

She headed towards the door, but the campers were still eagerly chatting away about the situation. YN was grateful that it wasn’t her night to stay on bed watch, and Sarah would have to calm the kids back down now. After three nights in a row, she deserved the night off. 

The staff parking lot was at the very bottom of the hill, meaning YN found herself walking through the entire camp. After all these years, she still found awe in the way camp looked at night after everyone had gone to bed. It was quiet in a different way than she was used to. And although she had every other night off from bed watch with the freedom to spend time by herself, she still found beauty in the eerie stillness of a place that was usually bustling with energy. 

When she finally reached the lot, which was really more like an extra-wide dirt road with some dusty vehicles parked along the edge, she spotted Harry sitting on the trunk of his car, distracted by the phone in his hand. As she walked along the road, she laughed at the jokes and names and shapes that campers and staff alike had drawn into the dust-covered surfaces of the cars. 

She watched as Harry finally looked up from his phone and spotted her walking towards him from about fifteen feet away. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she could’ve sworn she saw his face light up at the realization.

“Well hello darling,” he greeted her softly. 

YN took the last few steps towards him before hoisting herself up onto the trunk next to him. 

“Hey H. Hope you haven’t been waiting too long. I know I sent the signal a while ago but then one of the girls asked where I was going tonight and when they found out I would be with you, all hell broke loose,” she giggled.

He looked back at her with a soft gaze, shaking his head. 

“No such thing. Would wait hours for you, you know that.” 

It was quiet for a moment before Harry coughed, bringing her attention back to him.

“So um, I’ve actually got a little something planned for tonight, if you’re alright with it. Still gonna stargaze! Just thought... y’know... maybe we could have a little fun along the way.” 

She looked back at him quizzically. 

“Uh right so, actually the surprise is in the car so...” 

Harry jumped off of his perch before lending a hand to YN and helping her down as well. She watched him fish his keys out of his pocket and start opening the back end of the car. 

“Hey, s’a surprise,” he insisted, urging her to giggle and turn away from him. 

With her eyes closed, she could hear him opening the trunk, throwing a few things around, and closing it again. A few options of what it could be ran through her mind - some good food he’d smuggled in from his last day off, an extra one of his perfect-smelling sweatshirts, some candy he had confiscated from a camper. 

“Are y’eyes closed?” 

“Yes, Harry! Tell me what it is already!” 

First, she heard him - his footsteps on the imperfect dirt road. Then she felt him - his breath on the back of her neck and his left hand resting on her waist. She held her breath.

“Alrigh’,” he whispered directly into her ear. “Open up.”

It took a few blinks for her eyes to readjust to the limited lighting they were under, but when she could get a clear picture again she couldn't help but smile wide. She turned around in his arms, laughing as she went.

“Harry! You snuck in alcohol?!” She gave him a little shove to his chest to punctuate her accusation.

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, brought it at the beginning of the summer but wanted to save it for something special. But any occasion with my girl is a special occasion. And I know for a fact that you haven’t had anything to drink yet this summer, even on your days off. You deserve to have some fun, so I’m not taking no for an answer.”

YN sighed, feigning discontent. 

Harry just raised his brow, challenging her.

Ever the rule follower, the truth was she did feel guilty drinking during the summer even on days off. But Harry was right, it had been weeks. And if she was ever going to break a rule with someone it was going to be Harry. He always made those moments worth it. 

“Fine, just this once though, ok?” 

A giant smile spread across his face then as he knew he had won her over. 

“You say that now, but I bet y’would drink again if it came with the bonus of spending time with me.” 

“Bonus? Hanging out with you is like a chore at best,” she teased. “Now open that thing before I change my mind.” 

Harry shook his head as he turned his attention to the bottle of cheap vodka in his hands. She would tease him for buying the off-brand as well, except that she knew what his salary was, because it was the same as hers, and it wasn’t nearly enough to validate buying the good stuff like she knew he preferred. 

Once the lid was twisted off, he handed the bottle to her. 

“Do the honors?” 

“Wait, you don’t have any chaser, do you? Harry!” 

He laughed again. “You get what you pay for, love. Now take a drink before I change my mind about sharing with yeh.” 

She rolled her eyes before bringing the bottle up to her mouth. YN took a small sip before opening her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out, and making a disgusting noise that she would only ever allow Harry to hear.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it!” he insisted.

“Harry, I swear to god, if you ever make me drink straight vodka like that again-”

“Relax, babe,” he cut her off with a giggle. He turned back around and opened the trunk again, pulling out a bottle of juice and holding it up. 

“Harry!” 

“What! I just wanted to see if you would do it s’all.” 

He grabbed a couple of plastic cups as well before closing the trunk and using it as a table. YN hopped back up to sit on it, swinging her legs back and forth against the back of the car as he mixed their drinks. They stayed there for a while, drinking together and chatting. It hadn’t been long since they had last talked, a few hours at most, but over their entire friendship, they had never once managed to run out of things to talk about. They traded stories of their nights out during the year away from each other. Most of YN’s involved her friends doing stupid things and her having to clean up the mess, and most of Harry’s had to do with his ex. 

Harry was in the middle of telling a story about the time that he and his ex went to a bar, she lost exactly one shoe, and he spent twenty minutes crawling around on his hands and knees in the sticky bar looking for it only for her to remember she left it at their table.

“Hey, stop that,” YN interrupted.

“What? “ Harry raised his brow and took another sip of his drink. 

“Stop talking about her. I don’t want to hear about her and I know you don’t want to talk about her.” She paused for a moment, pursing her lips and looking down at her feet before looking back up at him. “Alright, here’s the deal. No more mentions of her tonight, tonight is a fun night. And then we can pick a different time to sit around and be sad about her, alright?”

Harry seemed to think over the proposition for a moment before nodding his head. “I’ll do my best. ‘S hard though... spent nearly every day with her for six months.”

“You also spent time working and studying and doing things with friends, right?” 

Again, he nodded.

“Great, tell me those things.”

“Fine, but not here.” He hopped off the car, grabbed his mixed drink in one hand and the half-empty bottle in the other, and started walking further down the dirt road away from the cabins and fields and program spaces and towards the hiking trails. 

“You coming?” he called back over his shoulder.

YN followed his lead, hopping off the back of the car and jogging to catch up with him as they walked deeper into the forest. When they reached the first fork in the road, YN started naturally going right, but Harry stopped her. 

“C’mon, let’s go this way,” he nodded to the left with his head.

“Towards the lake?” 

“Yeah, why not?” 

YN was a little confused at first. “Lake” was a strong word for the collection of smelly water hidden at the end of that trail. For years camp tried to clean it out and make it swimmable, or boatable, or even just not smell so bad. But every year they came back for the summer and it was exactly as disgusting as ever. Generations of campers and staff continued the legend that if you touched the water you would get a special rash that no one in the infirmary could heal. And when YN was a young camper, she swore she saw a dead fish floating around in it, but no one ever believed her.

But Harry looked determined, and YN trusted him, so she followed him anyway. 

“Fine, but give me a refill,” she insisted, holding her cup out in front of him. 

He gladly filled her cup and continued to lead her down the path. About five minutes in, YN realized how long it had been since she had gone this route. They no longer took campers to this spot anymore, not on purpose anyway. Which meant the last time she had been there must’ve been when she snuck out of her cabin as a teen. And that had to mean...

“Harry, are you taking me to our spot?” she asked softly. 

He kept his focus straight ahead as he nodded.

“Yeah, thought it would be nice. S’alright, right?” 

“Mhmm.”

There was an easy pause before Harry started up again telling a story of the time his friend accidentally picked up a stranger’s phone at a bar and got halfway home before realizing it. YN laughed along as they walked.

Truthfully, YN could listen to Harry talk for hours and never get bored. It didn’t even matter what he was saying. The sound of his voice was familiar and soothing, and the way he spoke sounded like a gentle melody from the birds or the waves crashing in the ocean. She had been known to completely zone out while he was talking, listening to the rhythm of his voice and entirely forgetting what the words coming out of his mouth actually meant. 

Harry finished the story as they reached their destination, but YN almost didn’t even notice. She was so much more wrapped up in his presence next to her than what he was saying.  

YN shivered as a cold wind blew through them. 

“YN,” Harry said a bit sternly, “Did you forget to grab a jacket again?”

She shrugged.

“Here, take mine.” He placed his cup and the bottle on the ground carefully before taking his jacket off and draping it over YN’s shoulders. YN would never say no to getting to be wrapped up in Harry, even his clothes were close enough to the real thing. 

The trail eventually opened up to a clearing overlooking the lake. Structures that had been built there in the past were worn down and weeds were growing in the center of an old fire pit. But off to the side still sat the small platform that YN remembered. Apparently at one point in time, it was used as a stage for campers to do talent shows, long before anyone had come up with naming them TUTS. But its only real use in YN’s memory was for lying on her back next to Harry and staring at the stars above. 

They sat in the center of the platform together, cross-legged as Harry placed the bottle of vodka in between them. 

“Alright,” he started with a sigh, hands landing on his knees. “We’re out of earshot of children for the first time in weeks, tell me what’s really on your mind.”

YN smiled but just shrugged. “What, like sex, drugs, and rock and roll?” she teased.

That had Harry giggling, which told YN he was definitely at least as tipsy as she was by that point. 

“Ok, well the first one is sex, you go first.” she declared. 

“I go? What do you mean I go? Like what do you want me to say?”

“Like, I don’t know. Tell me something I don’t already know. Like..” she stared out at the lake for a minute. “Ok, I’ve got one. Tell me a kink you have!” 

“What?!” Harry said. “I’m not doing that, YN ask something else.”

But she crossed her arms and held firm, a pout on her face. “Nope, you have to answer, that’s the game.” 

“What game?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Just answer the question ok? You get to ask me one next.”

“Alright fine,” he eventually relented. He turned his body away from her to look straight ahead at the overgrown firepit and took another sip of his drink.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t want to look you in the eye while I say it out loud.”

“Harry! That’s not fair! You totally have to look at me.”

“Fine,” he groaned, twisting around. “Just one, right?”

“You have more than one?” she raised her brows high. 

He had a small smirk on his face as he darted his eyes, looking around everywhere except at her but not answering the question. “I really like... uh...”

“Out with it!”

“I really like being told I’m doing a good job, ok? I like... lots of compliments and nice words and honestly, the moaning counts too, because that means I’m doing, like, an extra good job.”

“So, a praise kink?” she clarified.

YN could see the blood rushing up to his cheeks even more than it already had, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” 

His fingers toyed with his lower lip, a nervous tick that YN was well acquainted with. She couldn’t believe he would even consider the idea that she might make fun of him for that.

“A praise kink is like, totally super normal. Tons of people like that shit,” she reasoned. “It’s kinda cute, actually.” 

The words slipped out of her mouth before she could realize what she was saying. By the time it hit her that she had sort of called him cute, it was too late. But he was smiling back at her. 

“Yeah? Y’think so?”

“Mhmm.” YN didn’t know what to say, looking down at her fingers in her lap and picking at her cuticles to distract herself. After the campers badgered him the night before she had meant to be extra careful with using those kinds of words around him unless she wanted to completely embarrass herself. But the alcohol made her loose-lipped and she couldn’t really help it. 

He sat there in silence for a moment before finishing up the second half of his current drink.

“Wonder if you’d say the same thing when I get all possessive over you,” he said under his breath with a chuckle, refilling his cup. 

YN’s eyes went wide for a moment. 

“Alright, your turn,” he told her with renewed vigor, not giving her a chance to ask about what he had just blurted out. “Tell me something... oh, ok, I’ve got it. Tell me about the best fuck you ever had?”

“Ever?”

“Yeah. Who was it, what made it so good, spill.” 

YN let out a breath. That was actually a pretty difficult question, considering her relative lack of experience. Harry talked like everyone had a sex life as extensive as his. She knew for a fact that he started having sex years before she did, and had heard plenty of stories from the other girls at camp about the experiences. 

“What’s taking y’so long?” he whined.

She shrugged. “Dunno. Haven’t really had... I mean some times were better than others, yeah? But none really... stuck out as all that special, y’know?” 

YN watched as Harry tipped his head to the side, curiously. “No, I have no idea. I remember all the special -” but he cut himself off mid-sentence. “Oh my god,” he gasped.

Now she was confused. “What?”

Harry just took another sip of his drink, chuckling as he swallowed. She hated when he did this, goading her on, teasing her with information. In the back of her head, YN knew he only did it because he liked to get her riled up. And as much as she didn’t want to let him win in his endeavor, she really had no choice in this situation. At least not with her lowered inhibitions and the feeling in her lower stomach that she was desperately trying to ignore.

“Harry!” 

“No, I’m gonna make you say it.”

“Well, how can I say it if I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Ok fine,” he relented. “I wanted you to admit that Liam was small. Probably didn’t even make you cum!” he teased. 

“Yeah, well... he wasn’t the only one,” she grumbled, taking another sip out of her cup. 

“You’ve been with other really small guys?”

“No, I mean...” she didn’t want to admit it, not to Harry of all people. But she supposed she made up the rules of the game and now she had to stick to them and actually answer everything. “I mean... no guy has ever made me... y’know... finish. I mean there was this one time where I thought maybe it happened but like, I know what it feels like and I just really liked the guy and was trying to convince myself he was making it happen.”

“Wait, really? Never?” 

“Never by a guy... no,” she admitted. 

She felt small under his gaze, but not because of what he was saying or doing. Just the knowledge that he had so many partner-induced orgasms that he had to specify a favorite. And on top of that, he knew for a fact that he was at least good at fingering girls because he had fingered Rachel L down by the gazebo three summers ago and everyone found out. All of that combined and YN felt like she could never compare, not to Harry, not to his ex, not to anyone. She was better off staying alone, like she always had been, like she probably always would be. 

“Hey, hey, don’t be sad. We’ll make sure it happens for you,” he assured her, placing a comforting hand on her thigh.

“We?” She looked from his hand to his eyes.

Harry paused for a few seconds, then nodded. “Yeah, of course ‘we’, who do you think I am? Dream Team, remember? Gonna make sure your dream comes TRUE this summer.” 

YN couldn’t keep from laughing at that. 

“Ok your turn,” she declared.

“Shoot.”

“How big is your dick?”

Harry scoffed. “Tell you for a fact that I’m bigger than Liam from last year, and the guy from high school.” 

“You’re just saying that!” 

“Fine, fine. You really wanna know that bad?”

She had always been a tiny bit curious, but now that he was playing his little game and trying to hold the information back, YN was literally going to explode if he didn’t tell her. 

“Well now I do, yeah.”

“Alright, it’s... well it’s about this thick around and this long...when I’m hard... on a good day.” 

He showed her the measurements with his hands, and her drunken mind was in awe. There was no doubt in her swirling mind by then that he was anything like anyone she had ever been with. The idea of someone that big? He had to be bigger than any vibrator she currently owned (very well hidden away inside her suitcase under her bed and behind all her shoes so no one would find them). The image of him stretching her out as she had always hoped to experience one day was painted on the inside of her eyelids. It would probably hurt a little at first, and he would groan as she shifted her body to adjust to him. He would tell her how tight she was in between thrusts and she would feel so full - maybe even feel him all the way in her tummy when he came inside of her. 

Harry laughed. 

Her eyes went wide as she realized she had actually sat there and asked Harry about his dick then closed her eyes and imagined it right in front of him. The alcohol was clearly starting to get to her. He started pouring himself a refill, not giving YN time to fully recuperate after learning this new information. 

“Ok, your turn. When was the last time you had a real orgasm and who were you with? Or I guess... what were you thinking about?”

He asked it so casually. And on the one hand, of course he did, that’s the game they were playing. But on the other hand, YN could feel the butterflies flying around her tummy because she knew what the answer was going to have to be.

“I... I mean I do it a few times a week, the last time was yesterday.” 

She stopped short, but his gaze never left her.

“And you were thinking about...?”

She sighed. YN really didn’t want to have to come out and say it. Harry was her best friend and she didn’t want to make it weird. If he got all weird and looked at her differently after she told him, well she didn’t think she could survive the rest of the summer like that. It would be such a stupid reason to have to break up the dream team anyway. Even if he didn’t make it weird, she probably would. YN was already embarrassed by the way her campers talked about her and Harry, she didn’t need to add any fuel to the fire.

But, she was exactly intoxicated enough to not be able to think of a reasonable lie and the liquid courage took over instead.

“I was thinking about...Uh... well... you,” she finally admitted. 

Harry put the alcohol down on the platform quickly before looking over to YN. She couldn’t read his face. He didn’t say anything, not right away at least, and she could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she did her best to look away from him rather than melt under his gaze. She had ruined it, hadn’t she? All these years of friendship and she messed it all up with one drunken admission and now she was going to be miserable. He knew something he was never, ever supposed to know. 

“Hey,” he started, letting his hand rest on her thigh to get her attention. “S’not weird.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, ‘s like... s’a compliment, right? We’ve all thought about people while doing that. And at least it was someone I approve of.” He paused for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought before cracking a smile again. “I want to know how you had time at camp!” 

She giggled at that. It was clear to her that Harry was trying to make her feel as comfortable as possible, which only fed into the mushy melting feeling she had inside of her chest while looking at him. 

“During my hour off, Styles. Geez, you’re an amateur.” She finished up her drink as an emphasis to her point, Harry chuckling beside her. 

YN reached out for the nearly empty bottle of vodka, only for Harry to swipe it out of her grasp. 

“Harry!” 

“Come on, love. I think you’ve had enough.

She let out a little ‘hmph’, sparking a little laugh from Harry as he set the bottle on the other side of the platform.

“You’re just doing that because you don’t want me to see you get any harder,” she insisted.

Harry coughed, clearly taken back by her comment. “You... I... what?”

“Well you’re really bad at hiding how turned on you are,” she said with a shrug, pointing towards the obvious bulge in the front of his sweatpants. Of course, she had been trying to ignore it, but with his size, how could she? In her slightly drunken state, she tried her best not to think of what specifically had turned him on to that point. She tried to remember that there was no way he could be attracted to her or something she said. So, therefore, it must be an alcohol thing, right? 

Harry clearly didn’t want to address the situation at hand, so instead, he tried to change the subject. By this point, YN wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the late hour and lack of sleep that was making them delirious, but either way, she just couldn't stop laughing. And neither could he. Everything one of them said was the most hilarious thing in the world. 

“I saw a whale one time,” Harry told her, sitting up proud. 

“A whale! Oh my gosh, a whale! No one has ever, in the history of the entire world, seen a whale before!” she teased. 

He shoved her lightly by the shoulder before finally looking at his watch. 

“Oh shit, we better get back. Gotta get you to bed, don’t even wanna know what you’ll be like in the morning if I let you stay out any longer.” 

. . .

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Styles, just what every girl wants to hear. Such a way with words.” YN shoved him a bit as she came up next to him at the coffee station during breakfast. 

His face broke out in a smile, dimples and all, as he finished stirring his coffee. She rolled her eyes, reaching toward the stack of coffee cups. But he pushed her arm aside. 

“Here, I made this for you. Figured you’d need it after last night... plus I noticed there was only a drop of that non-dairy creamer you like left.” 

YN felt a soft smile break out across her face, and she recognized a look in Harry’s eyes that she had seen in the past but couldn’t quite decipher. 

“Thanks, H.” 

“Of course.” 

It was quiet between them for a moment, but not in an uncomfortable way. She just so genuinely appreciated him and the things he would do for her. The little things - like making her coffee exactly the way she liked it because he was worried the creamer would run out prior to her getting there. Or making sure she got to bed on time to get enough sleep. Checking in whenever he could tell she was feeling sad, or planning a fun day off for the two of them because he knew she needed it. One time in the winter he even ordered a delivery meal for her, from all the way across the ocean. He always took such good care of her. 

“Scuse me,” Niall pushed his way in between them, breaking YN out of her thoughts. 

Harry grabbed another cup to make his own coffee, which he took with no creamer and only one sugar. YN shifted her weight to one side as she watched him, realizing that if he didn't use a creamer, he had no reason to notice that it was almost empty. Maybe the bottle was in his way and we went to move it and that’s how he noticed? Or maybe whoever had made coffee right before told him it was running low?

They walked together to sit at the end of a table, their campers a good six feet away and too preoccupied with each other to notice or care what their counselors were doing. 

YN took a sip of her coffee, looking across the table at Harry again. She might look like a disaster after a bit of drinking the previous night, but he looked as perfect as ever. His hair looked fluffy and soft, curls in the front highlighted by the summer sun and reminiscent of cinnamon rolls. His eyes were bright, and focused, and didn’t have any bags. And his shirt displayed his broad shoulders and muscular yet comforting arms in precisely the perfect way. It wasn’t fair, really, that he could be up late drinking and still look like that in the morning. 

She knew she had been a little loose-lipped that night, and it’s not that she didn’t trust him. It’s just that... she never meant for him to know some of those things. He didn’t need to know that no guy had ever gotten her off, or that she thought of him while she touched herself sometimes. They were good friends, of course, but even still there were some things you always keep to yourself. 

“So about last night...” she started, softly so no one could overhear them. Harry raised his brows, urging her to continue. “That stuff we said...it stays between us, right?”

“‘Course,” Harry answered easily, taking another sip of his own coffee. “You can always trust me, you know that.” 

“I know it’s just...” she sighed, looking away from him for a moment. “I never really meant to tell you those things. I said it because I was... well... your surprise and all..” She didn’t want to say out loud that she was a bit drunk, just in case a camper or other staff could overhear her. It would be grounds for getting fired. 

“YN,” he started softly. “It’s ok. I won't tell anyone anything. Hey, look at me.” He tipped his head to the side, reaching his hand across the table to rest on hers in an attempt to draw her attention back to him. “I’m on your team, always.” 

She could feel herself blush at that, but she couldn’t make herself look away. His eyes were so clear and gentle, and she knew he meant every word he was saying. It wasn’t that she doubted he would keep her secrets, it was just that she needed reassurance that everything was going to be ok. That nothing had changed between them and he wouldn’t treat her any differently. That he valued her the same way he always had, and always would. His answer went further than that, though, telling her she could rely on him always. His words, the look in his eyes, the way he spoke to her outside her cabin a couple of nights ago, it’s like he was telepathically giving her a giant, warm, cozy hug. She desperately wanted one for real, but knew this wasn’t the time or place. 

Before their conversation could go any further, one of YN’s campers came up to her asking to be taken to the infirmary. 

“Duty calls.”

As they walked away, the camper whispered “are you dating him though? You can tell me, I’ll keep it a secret, I promise!”

. . .

“Nah, you’re way too good for Niall. Trust me, I saw him wear the same underwear two days in a row once,” Harry laughed. 

It was later in the morning, and both YN and Harry’s cabins were having their turn at the ropes course. On the short hike through the trees, the two of them walked side by side, chatting as always. He had asked her if she had her eye on anyone this summer - she didn’t really, but she started listing other counselors that she thought were cute enough. Apparently, she gave the wrong answer. 

“You asked who I thought was cute though - and he is. That doesn’t mean I’m like, in love with him or gonna make a move or anything.” 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Want you to be happy. And he’d make you happy for a few minutes but not... not much longer.” 

“So you’re saying he can’t last?” 

“No! I’m saying - are you running out of breath?”

They were almost halfway there, and YN started getting tired and her breathing sped up. Harry noticed right away. 

“Drink some water, babe,” he told her. 

“Forgot my water bottle.” 

“Have some of mine.”

When they arrived at the ropes area, the boys and girls split off to do their activities separately. It started with team-building activities for the kids on the ground, getting them comfortable with some of the equipment and learning to work together. The boys were having trouble, arguing with each other so Harry, Niall, and Adam, the ropes staff, kept having to cut in and calm them down. But YN’s girls were in their own little world, working through the problems together and finishing some of them in record time. 

That’s how the girls ended up getting to climb the rock wall, climbing tower, and actual ropes course first. And everything was going well for a while - the climbing wall wasn’t very tall and there was a lower point on the tower that the kids could stop at if they were really afraid of heights. Plus they were secure in harnesses and connected to ropes managed by some pretty strong staff members. 

It was the on ropes course itself that there was some trouble. It hung up high in the trees, roughly 30 feet above where they were standing. The ropes were old, and from the distance, the kids thought they looked a bit worn down. Plus, the first section required partner work, and even with the team building and safety measures, most of the kids were pretty worried. YN reassured them over and over again that if they could do the earlier team-building activities together, then working with a partner to walk across the rope bridge should be a piece of cake! But it was to no avail. 

Then Adam had the amazing idea of putting YN in a harness and having her demonstrate to the campers how to do it. He had to stay on the ground as part of the safety rules, Sarah was on her hour off, and she couldn’t be partners with a camper, so that’s how she and Harry ended up perched on top of a poll, 30 feet or so off the ground, attached with carabiners and ropes. 

YN held onto the pole so tightly, her knuckles were turning white. She kept looking down, even though she knew not to. And Harry could see the way she was nervously shaking her leg. 

“You’re not actually afraid of doing this, are you?” he asked her softly, so no one on the ground could hear. 

YN shrugged. It wasn’t that she was afraid of heights, per se, and she knew if she fell the harness and ropes system would catch her. But the ropes course hadn’t existed when she was a camper and she had never actually tried it. They had the chance during staff training week before the campers arrived, but she and Harry opted to test out some of the new guitars instead. She had no real reason to be afraid, but the concept of a ropes course, in general, is quite daunting. 

Harry’s face dropped when he realized that she was, in fact, a bit scared. He reached out, touching her arm lightly to get her attention. 

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m right here. I’ll never let anything happen to you, ok?” 

His voice was soft but strong, and YN found herself holding her breath for a moment before finally releasing it and nodding her head. Harry would be right there. He would be holding her and guiding her across the bridge, and everything would be ok. 

“Dream Team, right? We can do anything. We can do this,” he assured her again. 

“Ok...yeah...ok.” She didn’t sound very convincing, not even to herself. And she could tell from the look on Harry’s face that he wasn’t convinced either. But Adam called out from down below and started giving Harry directions on how to get to the platform in the middle of the bridge. 

He looked at her one last time, taking a deep breath and following the instructions. She didn’t want to look down, so instead she focused on his arms, muscles working hard as he lifted himself further up the pole, across a hanging log, and back down to the platform. 

“Now there’s nowhere for her to put her hands for balance,” Adam explained from the ground. “So Harry is going to have to do that for her. Harry!” he called out. “Put out your hands so she can reach for them, and YN go ahead and step onto the first rope on the bridge.”

Looking down at her feet, YN could feel herself becoming nauseous. It was a long way down, and even if the ropes caught her the harness was really uncomfortable, and it would be so embarrassing in front of the kids. She silently wished she hadn’t agreed to this, not realizing how intimidating it would be until she was already at the top of the pole and it was too late. 

“YN,” Harry whispered, arms stretched out in front of him. “I’ve got you.” 

She took a deep breath and used one leg to test the first rope of the bridge. There was some slack, and she would definitely be needing Harry’s help. That was the point of the activity, after all. Placing each of her hands in his, she looked back up at him.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” she asked

“Always.” 

Nodding her head, she took the first step. YN wobbled quite a bit, but Harry’s strong arms stayed constant to support her. His hands were warm and solid, comforting and secure. With her feet spread wide, she was able to find her balance and control her breathing. He squeezed her hands, causing her to look up so he could smile at her. 

“See how she’s distributing her weight across the rope and not in one spot?” Adam pointed out the campers, who all nodded. “And he’s got his knees bent for a stronger stance so he can give her extra support. Alright, YN, whenever you’re ready you can take the next two steps and get to the center platform.”

Lost in a trance, YN was staring at the ropes in front of her, part of her brain trying to figure out how to approach the next challenge and part of it was trying to convince herself that she was going to be ok.

“The first one’s always the hardest,” Harry insisted, drawing her attention back to him. “Everything from here is easy.” 

They worked together, her relying heavily on his strong, sturdy arms to make her way across. With each step, she got closer to him. Her hands moved from his hands to his forearms. She could feel how tense his arms were, but his face looked so relaxed. His soft, warm skin supported her as she moved to the third rope, hands now moving to his biceps. And she knew he was strong, she knew he had muscles, but she had never taken the time to really appreciate them and feel them in this way. His upper arms were dense and sturdy, and her grasp didn’t fit as far around them as she expected. Finally, she reached for his shoulders and made it to the center platform, letting out a sigh of relief.

That was, until she realized exactly how small that platform was, clearly built for children and not for two grown adults. 

“Here lemme just...” 

Harry placed his hands on her waist, pulling her close to him and then rotating them both to get her across to the other side of the small platform. He was focused, looking down at their feet as she trusted him to maneuver their bodies. 

Down below, YN could barely make out Adam explaining something to kids. She took a moment and looked into Harry’s eyes. When he finished rotating them, he looked up at her and smiled.

“See, Dream Team.” 

“Yeah,” she let out a huff. “Something like that.” 

Her hands rested softly on his shoulders still, his securely on her waist. The entire fronts of their bodies were touching from their chests all the way down to their toes. He held her close to him, and she wasn’t entirely sure if they needed to be as close as they were. But she didn’t mind, and judging by his soft smile, neither did he. 

“I’ve got you, YN. You know that, right? I’ve always got you.” 

She nodded her head, taking another breath and looking behind her at the other half of the bridge. If she did the first half she could surely do the second. It would just be a bit more difficult with Harry behind her rather than in front of her.

“Alright guys!” Adam shouted up at them. “Good job switching positions but now YN needs to turn around so she’s facing the second side of the bridge!”

YN felt Harry’s hands, still on her waist, as he turned her around. Their bodies still touched as they were confined to the small space, and she could swear she could feel his breathing on the back of her neck. He squeezed her lightly.

“Call me selfish,” he started, just loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough for anyone on the ground, “But I’m so glad I was here to be your partner. Wouldn’t want anyone else holding you close like this.” 

She swallowed hard. What was that supposed to mean? Did he really enjoy holding her close? Did she like the way it felt to be close to him? Blood rushed up to her cheeks and she was grateful that she was already facing away from him so he wouldn’t be able to see.

Before she could respond, Adam called up to them, instructing how to take the next step off the platform. 

She didn’t really pay much attention to anything that happened after that, risking her own safety to flip his words over and over in her head. Hours later and she still couldn’t get the comment out of her mind. Wouldn’t want anyone else holding you close like this. Why would he say that? Would someone else holding her close mean that Harry would get jealous? Wouldn’t want anyone else holding you close like this. Did she like being close to him like that? Did he like it just as much? Wouldn’t want anyone else holding you close like this. After all those years as friends, as pretty much the only girl he never tried to get with, did something change? 

She thought about it when he cheered for her after she made it to the end of the ropes course, a task she couldn’t have completed without him, literally. And she thought about it when he sat at the top of the waterslide during pool time, counting 15 seconds in between each kid to keep them safe and listening as they called silly things out to hear the echo. She thought about it again when she convinced her most stubborn camper to take a shower because honestly, people were starting to notice. Then she thought about it when supervising field time and watching Harry teach some of the boys how to properly throw a frisbee. She even thought about it when the kids were at their elective time and the counselors were in their daily team staff meeting with Mitch going over the schedule for the next day.

And it was still on her mind when the meeting ended and their daily hour off started. She walked up to Harry out of instinct, but soon realized she didn’t quite know what to say. Which was quite out of character for her, since she and Harry had pretty much never run out of things to talk about. They had talked earlier about sneaking into the kitchen and stealing some of the good snacks ahead of distrubution, but she had other more urgent things on her mind. Biting her lip, she looked up at him. But before she could get anything out, he stopped her.

“I’m just gonna take some time to myself in the cabin today if you don’t mind postponing our snack burglary,” he teased. 

“Oh, yeah,” she said softly. “Enjoy yourself.” 

This of course left YN with an entire hour to herself, which normally was something she relished, but on this day she so desperately wanted to be distracted and stop thinking of what he had told her. Harry was her best friend, and she shouldn’t be spiraling over something as simple as this. A few words shouldn’t be affecting her this much. 

They hadn’t always been this close, though. Both started going to camp when they were pretty young, at an age where the girls and the boys didn’t really mingle all that much. She knows for a fact that they were in the same age group for several summers, but she had absolutely no memory of him ever existing. 

Then they got a bit older, and middle school came around. YN does have memories of Harry during this time, but they were mostly from a distance. He was always so cool and exciting and popular, and she was just kind of there. He was foreign and had an accent and fluffy hair and sparkly eyes, and she just kind of existed. Harry was always kind to her, but not in a way that was any different from how he treated everybody. He was always helping people when they fell down or thanking the lunch ladies even if they made burnt grilled cheese for the third time in a row. 

It was in high school when things started to change. Harry went from being only that sweet, cute, British boy over there to being the one all the girls - and some of the boys - were fawning over. YN knows for a fact that he was at least three different girls’ first kiss in one summer, because she was actually present when all three happened (truth or dare, at a campfire, and behind a tree while they were supposed to be playing capture the flag). And if she remembered correctly, Harry soaked it all up. He didn’t brag, the other boys did enough of that for him. But he preened in the attention and accepted his role.

It was after YN had resigned to ignore her quiet little crush and make friends with Harry that they got so close. And eventually, they were practically inseperable. Harry even helped YN decide on a college, and then classes, and then a major. He never told her what to do but he was a great listener and always asked the right kinds of questions to get her thinking until she could come up with an answer she was confident in. He reminded her that school and work would never be her entire life, but they would be the way that she spends a lot of her time. And no one should spend that amount of their time miserable. And that was really the theme - he just wanted to make her happier. He pushed her to go out with friends more often and go on spontaneous adventures and learn about things she was actually passionate about - all from thousands of miles away. 

In the past two years, they had spoken nearly every day - either over the phone or by texting, though Harry always preferred to actually hear her voice. They would stay on the phone until late at night talking about whatever was on their minds and on more than one occasion YN had a roommate bang on the wall to get her to quiet down. Sometimes she even got to fall asleep to the sound of his voice. They talked about their days, or their jobs, or their families. They talked about the universe like they used to do under the stars at camp. They talked about relationships and what they wanted in a partner. She knew all about his girlfriend, who he was really smitten with for a long time. They had no real secrets between them, none that she knew of anyway. Besides, she had kind of spilled the beans in the only category she was really keeping to herself the other night after drinking. 

And if they didn’t have any secrets, then it should be easy to have a conversation with him about what he said up on the ropes course, right? She should be able to walk right into his cabin and say “Hi Harry, What did you mean when you said you wouldn’t want anyone else holding me close? Has something changed between us?” 

So without thinking over it any harder, she marched right down to his cabin with the intention to do just that. Walked down to the boys’ village where she wasn’t technically supposed to be (but there were no campers around so it was fine) and threw open the door without knocking. No secrets. 

Except, maybe they should have some secrets. Like it probably could have stayed a secret that Harry had his cock in his hand, his computer beside him playing a video, and soft moans coming out of his mouth. YN probably didn’t need to know that he was turned on by watching a video of shower sex. Or that he liked to alternate between fast and slow strokes. Or that he spit directly on his dick for lubrication. 

YN probably could have gone her whole life without knowing those things. 

But it was too late. By the time she yelled “Oh my god!” and turned around with her eyes closed, she already knew too much. 

Harry slammed his computer shut and yelled out several expletives. She could hear him moving around on his bed searching for his shorts and pulling them on. And then she could hear silence. 

A silence that had never really existed between them before. And it lasted for what seemed like an eternity. 

Eventually, Harry coughed. “You uh... you can turn around, if you’d like.” 

He sounded scared. 

YN took a deep breath before turning around, waiting another couple of seconds, and finally opening her eyes. The view in front of her this time was much more than what she was used to - Harry, sitting on his bed, fully clothed, fluffing his pillow to give himself something to do. It still wasn’t completely normal, as she couldn’t help but notice he was still completely hard beneath the loose-fitting shorts, which were doing nothing to try to hide that fact anyway. 

At first, she opened her mouth to speak, but nothing really came out. She wanted to say she was sorry. She wanted to pretend none of this ever happened. She wanted to make a bad joke that would distract them from the issue at hand and allow them to move on without discussing it further. But that’s not what she said. 

When she finally spoke, she only mustered up, “Were you just touching yourself?” 

“No,” Harry deadpanned. 

Which, like, was obviously a joke but considering the situation YN was too afraid to say anything. 

“YN you literally told me last night that this is the time in the day where you do this. I told you I wanted to spend some time alone and you didn’t put that together?” 

“Well, I... I was thinking about other things,” she admitted with a shrug. 

She looked up at Harry, desperately trying not to look at his lower half but it was a pretty tall order. He raised a brow, asking her to continue. 

“I was thinking about you...” she started. And she was going to say she was thinking about what he said earlier in the day, she really was. But he jumped in first. 

“So was I... about you! I mean. Not myself. That would be... I have an ego but it’s not that bad.” 

And that... was definitely not what YN was expecting to hear. 

“Really? Me? While you were...?” she asked softly, feeling somehow afraid of the answer. Because if he really was thinking about her, that meant even more than his little remark on the rope bridge. It would mean that they had both thought of each other in that moment. It could mean... a lot. 

Harry shrugged, “yeah.” And it wasn’t fair, really, that he was able to brush this off like no big deal and she was still standing there feeling like there was a spotlight pointed directly at her with a ticking time bomb getting ready to go off somewhere in the background. 

“Oh,” was all she managed to get out. 

“It doesn’t have to be weird... you told me yesterday you thought about me so I figured...” 

“No, yeah, I mean. Not weird at all,” she lied. 

“Ok, good.” Harry let out a big sigh, looking down at himself. “I uh... I’m kinda...” 

“Oh, right, yeah. I’ll um... I’ll let you take care of that. I’ll see you... later?” 

She started to leave, but not without hearing Harry under his breath say “Maybe you’ll help me out next time.” 

. . .

That night for cabin time, YN and Sarah tried to wear out the campers by having a glow stick dance party. Unfortunately, all it seemed to do was rile them up further. The amount of energy stored inside 11 and 12-year-olds' bodies seemed limitless. And the little one broke a glow stick and got it all over her fingers, which meant she got it all over her bed, which meant YN had to spend 20 minutes helping her clean it before turning out the lights. 

It felt like it took ages for them to actually quiet down and start to go to sleep. She had to resort to playing an old meditation story so they would at least stay quiet enough to hear and hopefully, maybe, eventually drift off. While the story was playing Sarah left for her night off and YN stayed behind on bedwatch. She heard the walkie click three times - her code with Harry that it was time to chat - but the girls were definitely still awake so she had to wait. To kill the time, she cleaned up the floor, refolded her clothes, and pushed her suitcase further under her bed. Anything to give her something to do so her mind wouldn’t wander too far. 

This day had been... a lot. Just in 24 hours, YN felt as if everything had changed between her and Harry, and she was terrified of it. A new door had opened in their relationship and she still didn’t know what any of it meant. 

The meditation story eventually ended, and YN let out a breath of relief when she could hear the sounds of steady breathing. To be safe, she turned on another story as she grabbed her walkie and carefully slipping out the door. 

She took her seat just outside the cabin, checking to make sure no one was within earshot, and clicked the walkie three times, biting her lip as she waited for a response. YN had never been this nervous to talk to Harry. Everything was always so easy with him. Conversation came naturally and she trusted him so deeply. But now, everything was confusing. 

It wasn’t long until Harry’s soft, calming voice came across the radio. 

“Hey darlin’,” he whispered, likely sitting directly outside his own cabin. “Was afraid you weren’t gonna wanna talk to me tonight.”

YN furrowed her brows. “That’s crazy, H. Why wouldn’t I want to talk to you? Things get so boring here.”

“Oh so I’m only good for my entertainment value?”

“Obviously.”

She smiled softly. 

There were so many things YN wanted to say to him at that moment, but none of them seemed quite right. She was scared of what he might say, what might change, what all of it could mean. She was scared that he would be scared and then she would be alone again. So instead she figured the safer conversation would be the one she owed him anyway, which would remind him of where they really stood. 

“Anyway, I know I cut you off from talking about... her... last night, and that wasn’t really fair. So if you want to think out loud, or vent, or whatever, I’m here for you to do that tonight.” 

Harry sighed through the speaker. 

“Yeah I... I guess I probably should talk about her some, to get it out, right?” 

It was hard for YN to listen to Harry talk about his ex, but as his friend, she knew it was the right thing to do for both of them (because also maybe it would remind her not to get her hopes up too high about him). He had been carrying some of this around for so long, and she could see the look in his eyes when the campers asked him if he had a girlfriend and knew that he was still feeling some sort of pain. It had been over a month now since they broke up, but he had been sharing his concerns about her with YN for much longer. 

When they first got together, Harry seemed so genuinely happy. He was always telling stories of his time with her - going on adventures, seeing new places, meeting new people. She brought out something special in him that no one he had previously been with seemed able to do. He seemed relaxed around her and YN could hear his smile through the phone while he talked about her. He was happy, and so YN was happy for him. 

Harry would acknowledge that something changed around the time Camille’s lease was up and she started suggesting either moving in together or moving out of town. But he didn’t know that making that decision was just the start of it. He didn’t know that Camille had called YN up one day (Harry had given them each other’s numbers and they texted occasionally, but only in reference to him) and practically threatened her to stay away from Harry. She claimed YN was taking up too much of Harry’s time and it wasn’t normal for someone in a relationship to be that close and talk that often with another girl. She was convinced he was “emotionally cheating” on her with YN. 

And to be honest, YN was a bit intimidated by Camille at first. She had a strong presence, a loud voice, and sounded serious on the phone. But when Harry called her the next day, she realized how ridiculous that was. Anyone who supports Harry should support all of him, including his other friendships and relationships. Hell, YN was supporting his relationship with Camille because it made him happy. So she wasn’t surprised that shortly after that conversation, Harry started mentioning things getting weird between the two of them. 

When he flat out rejected the idea of moving in together (“six months is a long time but it’s also not that long. Not long enough to make entire life decisions based on”) Camille was furious. She still tried to convince him to move out of town with her, and he did seriously consider it for a while. He felt pretty selfish when he decided to stay, but YN would remind him that if he was making a decision based on what he thought would make him happiest, then he had no reason to feel anything but confident in his choice. 

Apparently, that wasn’t enough for Camille to end things with him, but she definitely held onto the anger. They stopped going on dates, stopped seeing friends together, and their conversations ran stale. Harry complained to YN that she had turned into a fuck buddy, the exact habit he was trying to escape. She would come over, eat dinner, watch an episode of tv, fuck, and then leave without so much as a cuddle. That was the hardest part for YN to hear about - their sex life. He never went into detail but even the fact that he acknowledged it existing was difficult to hear - partially because of her old crush and partially because of her own lack of sex life. 

“I’m so glad camp started when it did,” he admitted. “I don’t think I would’ve had the courage to leave her otherwise.” 

“Sure you would’ve,” YN insisted. “You always do what you know is right.” 

“Maybe...” he sounded pensive. “Sometimes I... sometimes I miss out on opportunities and regret it later.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like... well it’s not important. The point is she went from being my girlfriend to a fuck buddy and it sucked.” 

“Hey - at least she sucked in a good way, right?” YN teased. 

Harry groaned on the other end. 

“That was terrible.” 

“I know, but I’m absolutely not sorry at all.” 

“Ok but, the last thing I want to think about right now is doing that with... her. I’d much rather talk about you.” 

“What about me? We talked about my sexual shortcomings last night, there’s not much else you don’t already know.” 

“Just... tell me what’s on your mind? I’m done talking about her. She’s old news and honestly, I feel like a robot when I talk about her now. I miss having a person, but I don’t miss her. ‘Sides, you’re my person now.” 

He said it so easily, it wasn’t even fair. YN was grateful that he couldn’t see her and the way the blood rushed to her cheeks as he admitted that she was his person. The sentiment wasn’t anything new, but hearing him say it so bluntly like that... brought back her swirling thoughts from earlier in the day. 

“There’s a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” 

YN took a deep breath. They were beyond the point of no return, there was nothing she could say to him that would be any more embarrassing than anything that they had experienced in the last day. So she might as well be honest. 

“Been thinking a lot about you, H.”

“Oh. Like.. have you been...after you saw me were you....doing it and...”

“No!” she quickly cut him off, knowing what he was insinuating. “Not that I wouldn’t...or that I would? I just... ugh.” 

Harry chuckled through the walkie. “It’s alright YN, tell me what you were thinking then.” 

“Was thinking... well, earlier I was thinking about what you said this morning, on the ropes. That you wouldn’t want anyone else to hold me close. What.... what did you mean?” 

“I meant... I meant what I said. Had an excuse to hold you close, and if I saw anyone else doing that with you I would’ve... well... I don’t know, YN. I’m selfish, I get jealous, and you’re mine.” 

“I’m yours?” 

“Yeah, my person, my dream team, all that. Wanna just... just keep you all to myself sometimes, yeah?”

“Harry, we spend all day every day together.”

“I know. And I like that. I like... I like having you with me. You make me smile, and... you’re safe. And holding you close like that this morning... it was nice. Wanna do that more. But maybe on the ground and not 30 feet in the air with 20 little kids staring up at us,” he laughed at the end. 

YN let out a small laugh, but she was too deep in thought for it to sound genuine. 

“Does this mean... Harry, has something changed between us?” 

The silence while she waited for an answer seemed to last for an eternity. What had she done? Asking him so forward like that? But everything he was saying, it was so... sweet. And it made the butterflies in her tummy flutter bigger than they had in years. Her mind was swirling with possibilities, the good and the bad. 

He liked holding her close. Would he hold her close in bed, for a nice cuddle? Would he stroke his hands through her hair while they watched tv? Would he squeeze her too tight in his sleep, just by instinct, forcing her to wiggle away from him? What if her wiggling woke him up? Would he have a cute, sleepy, pouty face as he opened his eyes, grabbing his hands out to nothing until she relented and moved back into his grasp? Would he kiss her goodnight before tucking his head into her neck and letting out soft little snores? 

Or would he be completely appalled and offended that she had even asked the question? Maybe he would laugh and say something to remind her that he would never see her romantically. She could never be more than a friend to him, always having to push her little crush into the back of her mind so it wouldn’t bother anyone. Because that’s what it was, wasn’t it? An embarrassing little childhood crush that had never quite faded away. He would connect the dots, after her admission last night, and the questions she asked him today, and he would no longer feel so safe and comfortable with her. He would put space between them like they were young again and she would lose her best friend. 

“Of course not, don’t be silly. I’ve always felt this way about you, YN, you should know that. Well, maybe not always but a really long time.” 

“Oh.” 

YN wasn’t quite sure what to make of that answer. He wasn’t exactly declaring his love for her, but he wasn’t pushing her away either. He was just... continuing on with what they already had. And that had to be good enough YN. 

She wanted to ask him what he meant about ‘feeling this way’. She wanted to ask what the future was going to look like. She wanted to ask if she was ever going to have a chance or if he would just be a soft, lovey-dovey best friend forever. 

But she didn’t ask. 

“Me too,” she responded softly instead of any of the questions running through her mind. 

“Good... I’m... I’m really lucky to have you in my life, YN.” 

In the short silence, she heard Niall’s voice distantly in the background from the radio.

“Ah, Niall’s back. Should probably head to bed anyway. See you in the morning.” 

“Yeah...see you.” 

YN went back into the cabin then, closing the door as softly as she could. But as soon as she did, one of the campers sat straight up. 

“YN!” she whisper-shouted.

“Shh... you’ll wake everyone up. What do you need?”

The camper rubbed her eyes before answering. “You were talking to Harry.” 

“Yes...” 

“I don’t know what he said, but I heard his voice. He has a nice voice...” 

“Yes, he does,” YN smiled. “But it’s late. Harry went to sleep and I’m going to now. You should be asleep too.”

“Ok,” she answered softly, lying back down on her bed. 

YN made her way to her bed, changed into her pajamas, and got under the covers. But she didn’t sleep. How could she, with Harry’s words running through her head? Instead, she spent the night tossing and turning, rolling around in her bed and desperately trying to shake her thoughts free. That night, she was up later than the time the campers wanted to pull an all-nighter.

. . .

Looking back, it would have been smart of YN to cut her conversation with Harry short, go to bed early, and get a good night’s sleep. She would have smiled while thinking back on a conversation about mundane nothingness, snuggled under her warm blanket that she brought from home, and drifted away into an easy dreamland for eight hours. Maybe she would have even dreamed something sweet about Harry, something mixed in with crazy dream logic like maybe he was holding her close and teaching her to fly off a cliff so they could escape the crazy ostriches chasing them through the forest. That would have been nice. 

But no, that’s not what YN did. She had a conversation that left her more confused than she started, and she hardly got any sleep. Rolling over every five minutes and never truly able to get comfortable, she struggled all night. Her body would not let her relax. Her feet kept tapping and her mind kept swirling and her leg was really itchy for some reason. 

All in all, she probably got four hours of good sleep that night. And normally, she would have been able to make do, maybe take a nap during her hour off, take it easy for the day. But that wasn’t possible as she was woken by excited screaming and pounding on the doors and windows. 

Somehow, YN had forgotten that it was Color Wars day. And when the realization hit her, it came with the extra weight of remembering that she was supposed to be a team captain. Blue Team - which it turned out was different from the team her campers would be on because they were assigned separately, which made the morning quite complicated. 

The kids were excited, jumping out of bed as they searched through their clothes for something red to wear to represent their team color. They were eagerly chatting and Sarah had to remind them to brush their teeth because they were just so excited. 

Meanwhile, YN rolled out of bed slowly, groaning as her aching body moved and her eyes adjusted to the light in the room. Why had she agreed to be a team captain? This day was practically a day off for most of the staff - not having to shepherd the kids from one place to another, most of the responsibility landing on the team captains and the teenagers. And then she remembered that Harry had talked her into it a few weeks ago. The original idea was to be team captains together, but then Mitch thought it would be funnier to make them compete, and now YN was going to spend her entire day opposing Harry instead of lounging around with him. 

It didn’t help her mood that the wake-up call of screaming teenagers came 30 minutes earlier than the usual alarm so that the teams could congregate prior to breakfast and start the day with energy. So with less sleep, more on her mind, and no real enthusiasm, YN trudged her way to the amphitheater where she made sure her campers were seated with their team and she took to the stage with the other captains. 

Harry was already there, all dressed in red complete with a red cowboy hat and sunglasses. YN smiled to herself, knowing the girls would love being on his team for the day. Next to him stood Niall, YN’s co-captain for Blue Team. Niall was always sweet, and always had so much energy, so he would be a great captain in that respect. But she knew that he would get lost up in the excitement of everything and YN would end up being the one to count the kids and make sure everything actually ran smoothly. 

Music was playing loudly in the background (too loudly for so early in the morning, if you asked YN, not that anyone did) and the kids were all dancing in their seats. When it was time for the team captains to introduce themselves, Harry of course went first. 

“I’m Harry and I’m your Red Team captain! And Red Team is going to win because we’re on fire!” The girls on the benches screamed after him, giggling to each other about how they would get to spend the whole entire day with him. He had way too much energy for someone who had the same conversation the night before as YN did. It wasn’t fair. 

“I’m YN and I’m the Blue Team captain! And Blue Team is going to win because we’re the coolest!” Niall came up after her and sprayed his entire water bottle on the Blue Team campers in the front row. 

At breakfast, YN made a beeline for the coffee station. She was going to need more than one cup if she was going to survive this day. The coffee machine was slow, so she stood there for a few minutes surveying the room, eventually making eye contact with Harry. He smiled wide and walked over to join her. 

“Y’alright?” he asked, wrapping his arm around her in a short hug. 

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“Y’look like sleeping is your next sport.”

“I’d lose at that too,” she told him with a sigh. “Couldn’t sleep last night. Gonna need extra coffee to get through this day.” 

“Really? The Color Wars energy doesn’t just... run through your veins and make you go crazy?” he teased. 

YN snorted. “Not exactly, Styles, no.” 

He dropped it, grabbing a cup to make his own coffee for the morning before changing the conversation. 

“Why couldn’t you sleep? We weren’t up all that late.” 

She shrugged. “Had a lot on my mind after...” She drifted off, not exactly sure how to finish her sentence. But he nodded anyway, understanding. 

“We gotta work on that - make sure you’re sleeping good at night. S’not healthy to not sleep... plus you get so cranky, pain in my ass.” 

YN playfully whacked him on his arm.

“I’m just being honest, looking out for ya,” he shrugged. 

They sat together for breakfast, ignoring the fact that the teams were supposed to be divided in the dining hall. But no one tried to separate them. They talked as they ate their rubbery pancakes, laughing over old memories and new camper stories. 

And then Harry stopped. He looked at her with his head cocked to the side and reached out to her face. With his fingertip, he brushed just under her eye.

YN held her breath. 

“Y’got an eyelash,” he said softly, sitting back down but holding the lash on his fingertip for her to see. “Make a wish.”

She closed her eyes, thinking for a moment and then blowing the lash away. When she opened them again, Harry was looking at her with a gentle smile. 

The moment was interrupted by Mitch handing them their schedules for the day. They were disappointed to realize the only hour in the day they would have together was capture the flag in the late afternoon - which they would also be required to participate in. That meant YN had to spend the whole day giving off fake energy for a day she didn’t really care about and Harry wouldn’t even be there to cheer her up or keep her going. It also meant more time for memories of the conversation last night to take hold in her mind and no way to clear anything up with him. 

She did her best to grit her teeth and make it through. To the best of her ability, she did what she could to ensure that none of the kids knew she was dreading every moment of this day. With a smile on her face at all times, she kept campers of all ages engaged and excited and pretended like someone was actually keeping score of who was winning all the sports and games. (Yes, games. There were complaints last year that sports-only was not inclusive enough so this year they included things like competitive Apples to Apples and water pitcher chugging contests.) 

And although YN didn’t exactly have a companion directly by her side all day like usual, she had to admit, being paired up with Niall for the day wasn’t so bad. She was mostly right about him being sweet and kind and full of energy. She was also right about her having to do most of the logistics and responsibility aspect of the job, but she was ok with that. He kept up the energy and she made sure no one got killed and for the most part, things seemed to be going smoothly. Only three kids had been taken to the infirmary and only one of those kids was actually injured in a way that made her nervous, so she considered that a pretty big win.

Lunch wasn’t so bad either. It was a tradition that the campers had to be silent at lunch on Color Wars day, and only the team captains could speak. That meant she couldn’t sit down and have a regular conversation with Harry because everyone could hear everything she was saying, but it meant that she got to call across the giant room to Niall and wave and make jokes about how the Blue Team was going to win. And he wasn’t Harry, but Niall definitely made her laugh quite a bit. 

By the afternoon, YN was more exhausted than ever, but her mood was a little better than it had been in the morning. With a handful of fun moments under her belt, and a break from her own cabin of campers, the day hadn’t been a total loss after all. But then she twisted her ankle playing basketball causing her team to lose, and she caught three different sets of campers making out behind a fence, and her grumpiness came right back. 

So when it was time for capture the flag against Red Team with Harry, YN was both annoyed in general with her day and relieved to at least get to see him. But they couldn’t even play on the same team since they were opposing team captains, which only made her crankier. Plus, YN had never seen her campers so engaged in an activity as they were when they were listening to Harry describe the strategy for the game. Which totally wasn’t fair because they never listened to her if she tried to give instructions or remind them to shower or quiet down at the end of lunch. 

The game started and kids from both teams started running around the field, tagging each other and guarding their flags. Harry was deeply invested in the game, or so it seemed. He stood at the border between the two sides and instructed the campers on who should run where, who should go up against who, and what their best possibility for actually getting the flag might be. 

YN, meanwhile, stayed back. She helped to guard Blue Team’s flag, which sat in the middle of a circle of bright orange cones. Her thinking was that most of the campers and staff would get tagged before they even got to her, so she wouldn’t really have to do all that much. She also thought that if she had a frown on her face or her brows were furrowed, no one would really notice because they wouldn’t really be looking at her, but looking past her to the flag itself.

When YN and Harry first made eye contact from across the field, his expression changed from one of determination to one of concern. He cocked his head to the side and mouthed “are you ok?” as best he could, and YN shrugged and nodded. He didn’t seem convinced, but a camper ran up to him to excitedly tell him a new possible strategy, and being the allstar counselor he was, Harry turned his attention to the child. 

After that, they caught each other’s gaze a few times from across the field, Harry’s devious smirk growing more pronounced each time. YN couldn’t quite figure out what it meant, so she pushed the thought away and continued in the game. So far, her strategy of staying back and putting in minimal effort was working, and she was rather proud of herself for that. Maybe she could get through this game without too much difficulty, finish off the day strong, put the kids to bed, and spend time in the lounge with Harry comparing their days through laughter. 

After the game had been going for nearly 30 minutes, campers were getting tired, and YN was checking her watch, she knew something big had to be coming soon. Harry was smart, and he wasn’t going to keep directing his team to be doing the same thing forever. Plus he noticed that YN wasn’t in the happiest of moods and if history meant anything, he would probably be doing something stupid to try and cheer her up pretty soon. 

YN was right, as she saw Harry circle up a group of campers (mostly her cabin, who were essentially attached to him all day). They broke up their huddle and spread out and Harry counted down from three, and that’s when all of them, including Harry, ran towards the Blue Team’s side of the field. Typically he would let a camper here or there catch him and send him back to the other side to give the illusion of success, but not this time. 

He swiftly dodged the many small hands reaching for him until he made it to the back side of the field. Standing in front of YN, his stance was crouched down a bit with bent knees and he looked at the game around him. His eyes then reached YN, who took his same stance mockingly.

“Think you can get past me, Styles?”

“Maybe.” His dimples were on full display.

“Can’t get the flag for yourself, gotta let a camper get it. Come on, thought you were better than this.” 

Harry shrugged. “Maybe I am.” 

He looked around again, and when he saw that several of his team’s campers had made it to the far end of the field with him, he called out to them “NOW!” 

One foot in front of the other, he ran directly at YN rather than trying to get around her.

“Harry what are you - HARRY!” she called out as he wrapped his arms around her waist, picked her up, and carried her over his shoulder and away from her guard post, legs kicking out and arms whacking his back. 

“Harry put me down!” she called out through a laugh. 

“NO! This is for Red Team!” 

He carried her as close to the edge of the field as he could before dropping to his knees, placing her on the ground on her back, and pinning her down. He sat on top of her, legs on either side of her hips. Smile on full display, dimples deeper than she had probably ever seen, and eyes bright and mischievous, he held her there giggling at his own strategy. 

YN was lost in his eyes at this point, no longer paying almost any attention to the game at hand. Later on, someone could tell her that actually a meteor had struck the middle of the field and everyone had passed out and she probably wouldn’t have noticed. She was too busy gazing up at the best view she had seen in ages - Harry’s excited, devious, cute face. 

“Let me go!” she called out, though she didn’t really mean it. 

“Never!” he answered. 

She started flailing her arms around, pushing on his shoulders in a last-ditch attempt to get him off of her, but he only grabbed her hands in his own and raised them above her head, pinning her down completely. He was bent over at the waist, their faces closer than before. They sat there for a moment then, both of them laughing. YN’s cheeks were starting to hurt from the strain of her own smile. 

But then something strange happened. Harry’s face dropped, and he suddenly looked much more serious. His gaze traveled to where their hands clasped together above her head, down to her face, along her torso, eventually making his way back up to her eyes. 

“Shit, can’t wait till we’re alone...so much I wanna do to you right now...” he whispered with a deeper inflection to his voice than usual. 

YN’s smile fell then too as her gaze traveled along his body, landing at the spot where they were connected but saying nothing. 

Harry closed his eyes for a moment before inhaling deeply and looking back at her. 

“Y’alright though? Didn’t hit the ground too hard did you?” he changed the subject.

“I’m fine, Harry,” she responded, still smiling. 

Harry nodded, looking away from her for a moment to gauge what was happening in the game. 

YN took her opportunity then, gathering her strength and rolling them both over in the grass until he was on his back and she was on top. Smiling back on her face, she bit down on her bottom lip as she took control of the situation. 

And maybe this wasn’t the smartest move YN could have made. Maybe rolling around in the grass until she was sitting on top of Harry, her center resting over his hips, hands held together next to his head, wasn’t the greatest thing to be doing in the middle of the day around a group of campers. And maybe relaxing her waist and putting more pressure on him when she already knew he was at least a little bit turned on wasn’t the most appropriate thing she could have done to her best friend. But she did it, and the look on his face when he closed his eyes tight and let out a breath was all the reward she needed. 

“Fuck, YN,” he groaned out, still quiet enough that no one else could hear but her. “Y’gonna kill me, y’know that?” 

She felt him then, solidly beneath her, right where she always secretly wanted him to be, and her eyes went wide at the realization of what she was feeling. 

“Shit Harry I - I’m sorry I’ll get up, I’ll -”

“No!” he cut her off. “If you... if you get up now then everyone will see that I’m...” 

“Oh... yeah lemme just...” she shifted her weight onto her knees so she was hovering above him then, quickly missing the sensation of him between her thighs but immediately feeling guilt over the thought of her best friend. 

“Just... just need a minute,” he told her, eyes squeezed tight. 

YN looked up then as she heard screaming from the other end of the field. Harry’s strategy had worked and one of the girls had carried the flag back to Red Team’s side leading to a celebration. 

“Think of Niall snoring,” she told him quietly, hoping it would solve his problem before they had to take over responsibilities as captains again. Her suggestion made him laugh. 

So, maybe the day hadn’t been a complete waste after all. YN was undoubtedly in a much better mood after their little moment on the field, which was a good thing considering neither blue or red won, but actually it was the green team who was announced as the winner of the day just ahead of dinner time. 

YN’s campers spent the evening telling her about their day with Harry. Apparently, he was significantly more fun than they realized, he helped them win lots of games and encouraged them. They were arguing over who got the most high-fives from him and the little one bragged that she even got to give him a hug! He was so muscly but also soft! And his arms were bigger than my face! YN smiled as she heard them recount their stories. Harry was always so good with the kids, knowing when to be kind and gentle, when to give some tough love, and when to make them laugh. 

“You’re so lucky you’re dating him, YN,” one of the campers said that night before bed. 

“I told you a million times, we’re not dating.” 

“Whatever... you spend a lot of time with him and he obviously likes you.”

“And we saw you fighting with him on the field during capture the flag! He was smiling with dimples and everything!” another one called out from her bunk. 

“I don’t know what you think you saw,” YN started, “but I’ve told you a million times, we aren’t dating.” 

She turned off the lights shortly after that, and luckily the kids were pretty wiped out after the exciting day. It was Sarah’s turn for bedwatch so YN changed into her comfy sweatpants and snuck out the door quietly. Harry hadn’t made a plan with her for that night, but she knew he would be off that night too, and likely in the staff lounge with most of the other counselors. 

The stars were bright that night, brighter than usual it seemed. YN almost walked into a tree three separate times on her way down to the staff lounge because she was so distracted by the shapes in the sky. She realized then that they never actually did any stargazing the other night. Maybe she could get Harry to join her in that tonight instead. 

She heared the laughter before she even opened the door of the small structure. Inside, something like ten other counselors were sitting in a circle, sharing snacks and laughing about their day. Harry’s face snapped to the door as soon as she opened it, his smile growing big across his face as he scooted over on the old couch to make room for her to sit next to him. YN could feel the tension releasing in her shoulders at the sight of him, realizing that she could have her buddy back and feel a little less alone again.

“YN, just in time!” Adam called to her from across the circle. “We were gonna start playing truth or dare.” 

“What are we, 15?” YN teased. 

Adam shrugged. “Maybe those teenagers got something right about a fun way to spend the night together.” 

Harry draped his arm around the back of the couch then, making space for YN to move in a bit closer to him. His body heat radiated off of him and warmed her on the chilly night. She wanted nothing more than to cuddle into him for real, rest her head on his chest and listen to his heart beat as he spoke soothing words to put her to sleep. Maybe his arm would come down from the couch and wrap around her to keep her securely next to him and he would give a kiss to the top of her head and she closed her eyes. 

YN visibly shook her head to get the thoughts to dissipate. 

The game started then, going around in a circle. It felt like they were teenagers again - daring each other to kiss and making each other share embarrassing stories or fantasies. Adam apparently had a thing for fucking doggy style and Niall admitted that he had hooked up with two girls in one day one time. 

When it was Harry’s turn, he picked truth. Adam started snickering right away. 

“I’ve got a good one,” he declared to the group. “Would you ever hook up with YN?” 

Her heart dropped. She didn’t want to hear the answer. If the answer was no, she would be at least a little heartbroken to know that she had absolutely no chance, and none of what he had been saying the past few days really held any weight. And it would be so completely embarrassing for that to come out in front of so manypeople, who would no doubt see her face fall a slightly and read into it and maybe realize that she kind of liked him and- 

Harry looked down at her with a soft smile before looking back at Adam across the room. He shrugged a bit, dropping his arm from the back of the couch down to rest around her shoulder. 

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?” He admitted. 

YN was a bit in shock, but she tried her best not to show it. She felt every muscle in her body tense up and her brain was on fire. 

The group around them started chatting and joking about the answer, and Harry leaned down to whisper into YN’s ear. 

“Are y’alright? That wasn’t too..?” 

“No... yeah... I’m...I’m good,” she told him with a forced smile. 

Harry dropped his brows. “Y’cold?” he asked, seemingly looking for an answer to why she seemed so uncomfortable. 

“No, I’m fine H.” 

“YN, it’s your turn!” someone called out, bringing her attention back to the group. 

“Um... truth I guess?” In all honesty, YN was a bit afraid after that last question that if she had chosen dare they would dare them to kiss and although she had imagined that moment a million times, she didn’t want it to happen like this. If it was going to happen, she wanted it to happen for real. 

“And you have to ask her a different question!” someone clarified. 

The group seemed to be thinking to themselves for a moment, trying to come up with a good question before Niall spoke up. 

“I got one - YN, tell us about the first time a guy made you cum?” 

She immediately felt the blood rushing to her cheeks as she looked down at her lap. Of course, she didn’t want to answer the question, but she didn’t want to cause a scene either. Maybe she could lie. Make up some guy from college who theoretically rocked her world and call it a day. But the point of the game was to tell the truth and she was shit at lying and a stickler for following the rules. The whole room was staring at her, the pressure intensifying with every second. She squeezed her toes, desperately wishing at that moment she could simply disappear and none of this would matter anymore. 

Harry’s arm flexed and held her tighter against him as he spoke up.

“She’s not gonna answer that one, ask something else,” he said. 

“That’s not fair, it’s the point of the game. Come on, we all shared,” Adam insisted. 

YN looked up at Harry, silently begging him to do something. And it was like he could read her mind. 

“I said she’s not answering. Either ask another one or we’re leaving.” His voice was deeper and stronger than usual, and all signs of his typical smile vanished completely from his face. 

“What, you’re not a virgin are you?” 

“No! I’m not it-it’s just...” she couldn’t find the strength to say anything. Luckily, Harry came to her defense again. 

He stood up suddenly, grabbing her hand in his and standing up suddenly.

“C’mon, we’re leaving. You don’t have to answer that,” he told her. “She’s not answering it,” he repeated again to the room as he started walking them towards the door.

She did her best to look apologetic to the rest of the group, but when they reached the night air outside and the door closed behind them she let out a sigh of relief. They walked down the hill a little way before Harry stopped, wrapping his arms around her neck and pulling her in close. He always knew exactly what she needed.

“Thank you, H,” she whispered into his chest, arms secured around his lower back. He was wearing an old cozy sweatshirt and she wanted to crawl up inside of it. 

His hand started to rub up and down her back. “Of course. Stays between us, right?” He reminded her of his promise the other day. “Still gonna make sure that happens for you this summer though.”

YN knew exactly what he was suggesting, and she felt herself blushing again as she considered Harry somehow fulfilling his promise to give her a partner-induced orgasm before the end of the summer. After everything he had said to her recently, she started to wonder what his plan was. She was grateful that her face was still hidden in their hug. 

“Now,” he started softly. “What are we going to do with the rest of our night? Hm?” 

YN released her arms from around his back, and Harry followed suit. 

“Well I realized we never actually did any stargazing the other night, and it’s so bright tonight I thought maybe we could -” 

“Yes!” Harry cut her off. “That sounds perfect. Don’t wanna walk all the way out to our spot though, mind if we go somewhere else?” 

YN agreed, and Harry took her hand to lead her to wherever it was that he had in mind. She expected him to let go after a few steps, but he didn’t. Instead, their hands dropped between them and he held onto her tight. His hand was large and warm around hers. Occasionally his thumb would rub up and down the back of her hand. 

The walk was nice, and peaceful. She always loved walking through camp at night but it was ten times better with Harry. In the quiet between them, she let her mind wander to happy memories of summers past. The time she watched Harry win a hotdog eating competition in the dining hall. The time she almost fell on her roller skates but Harry reached her right in time so he fell on his ass but she fell only on him. The time YN attempted to play frisbee with him on the field, but accidentally threw the disk into the forest and it took Harry 15 minutes to find it and come back. The time they discovered mint growing down by the creek and picked some to put in their water bottles. The time when they were kids and YN tried so hard to teach Harry to properly dive, but he was a terrible pupil and ended up smacking his face on the water every time. 

She had memories with other friends too, sure. But it was those moments with Harry - some special and some rather mundane - that stuck out to her the most. It was him she thought of when they passed each of those locations in the still night, bright stars overhead, and hands clasped together. 

“Can practically hear you thinking,” he broke the silence.

She looked up at him with a soft smile. “Yeah, but good things though. I promise.” 

Harry hummed in response as they turned the corner and reached the field. “Thought we could hike up to the cliff, stargaze from there. Know it’s dark but it’s not far and I’ve got a flashlight,” he suggested. 

She realized then that he must’ve been somehow planning this because he never carried anything with him that he didn’t absolutely need. YN agreed and followed him to the small trailhead at the corner of the field. They started hiking up the narrow path, hands never releasing from one another. 

They had hiked this trail dozens of times - a signature hike that was practically a requirement for any camper. But neither of them had ever done it at night. Harry led the way, scanning the trail with his flashlight and warning YN of rocks on the path or roots sticking up. He pushed low branches out of their way and tested the bigger rocks for stability, only allowing her to cross over them when he was convinced she would be safe.

Eventually, the trees parted way and opened up to a small clearing at the top of the cliff. From the edge, they could see the entire camp by the light of the moon. Harry stood behind her, holding her close with his arms around her middle, and she relaxed back into him. Her head rested on his chest and she let out a deep breath. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever been up here at night,” he whispered to her like it was a secret, even though they were alone. 

“Me neither.” 

YN was meant to be looking up at the stars, but she was so at peace in that moment she let her eyelids drop and soaked up the moment with Harry instead. He had said he liked holding her close, but she never truly appreciated how good it felt until this moment. If she could freeze time and live in one moment forever, she’s pretty sure she would choose this one. 

They were silent for a while, appreciating the moment together. Harry’s thumb stroked up and down her tummy a bit, and YN moved her hands to hold Harry’s arms. He was soft, and warm, and strong, and safe. The entire universe could melt away leaving just the two of them, and YN would still be happy to be standing there together. 

After a few minutes of quiet, she opened her eyes. Adjusting to the moonlight, she blinked a few times, letting out a contented sigh. 

“Harry?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I like when you hold me close too,” she admitted. 

“Good,” he answered. “Because I think I want to start doing it a lot more often.” 

YN turned around to face him without removing leaving his grasp. He had a pout, clearly disappointed that she was no longer resting up against him. 

She leaned her head back and looked up at him to ask, “What do you mean when you say those things, H? Like when you said you wanted to be everything for me, or you were selfish and I’m yours. Or on the field, you said you wanted to do things alone?”

Harry sighed, a smile on his face as he shook his head at her. “You ask all these questions, YN. Thought I was making it pretty obvious.” 

“Making what obvious?” 

“That... that I want you.” 

They were whispering, even though no one was within earshot. Harry used one hand on her lower back to press her closer to him, and lifted the other to rest his palm on the side of her face, his thumb rubbing softly at the apple of her cheek. 

“Want me how?” she asked, breathless. 

“Want you like this.” 

He looked down to her lips, then back up at her eyes. Closing the distance between them, his soft lips touched hers. The gesture was gentle, careful, both of them holding their breaths. She melted into his touch and reached out for his body bringing one hand to his hip and the other to his chest. When his lips began to move, her hand grabbed at the top of his shirt, bringing him in even closer. 

Harry took the lead in parting slightly, their lips still brushing as he spoke. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

“Really? I... I never thought that you would want this... with me.”

He looked at her quizzically, head cocked to the side. “Why not?”

“Well... because you’re you, and I’m me,” she explained like it was obvious. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means... Harry, you’re cute, and you’re sweet, and you have that accent, and you could get anyone you want. You kissed all my friends and never made a move on me so I just figured....”

“YN,” Harry started, shaking his head. “That is so... stupid. I never did that with you because... you were always worth too much to me. Those girls... I kissed them once and then never talked to them again. Or we hooked up a few times and then things got weird. I didn’t... even back then I knew you were more important than that, I didn’t want to lose you. Been thinking about this for years but you... you always turned me down.”

“Turned you down?” she asked, confused now. “You never even...”

“Babe, all those nights we went stargazing? You wouldn’t even touch my hand or give me a hug! I tried so many times but eventually, I just gave up and... I figured I’d rather have you as my friend than not have you at all. Or even the other night, outside your cabin. I told you I wanted to be everything for you, and you just hugged me and said I was a good friend.  I’ve always been here. I’ve been right here waiting for you.” 

YN was shocked at the revelation but did her best to hide it. 

“You are... everything to me. Really.”

“For so long I thought you would never see me as anything else,” he admitted to her. “But now that I know that you... I’m never going to let you feel alone, ever again. I promise.” 

“Well... let’s make up for lost time then.” 

He didn’t answer, only leaned back in and started kissing her again, this time with a little more force. His right hand supported her jaw while his left traveled down to her hips where he used his leverage to pull her in tighter against him. YN let out a little gasp when she felt her core right up against him, and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue between her lips. YN took to it naturally, her heart fluttering as he squeezed at her hip and let his other hand move back into her hair.  

“Harry,” she breathed out as he took a moment to catch his own breath. 

“I know,” he responded before diving back in.

They continued like that for a while, hands wandering, lips and tongues working together. She could’ve sworn she heard him let out a few little sounds, but it might have been a trick of her brain when some birds called out overhead. His body was warm, and cozy, and safe. And he was really good at what he was doing. 

A gust of wind passed over them, causing YN to shiver a bit. Harry stopped then, a look of concern on his face. 

“Y’cold? Can have my jacket if you want,” he offered. 

“No, I’d rather just... just keep holding me.” 

So he did. They stood there together, at the top of the cliff overlooking the whole camp, and held each other close - YN’s back leaning against Harry’s front and her head resting on his shoulder. Their breaths synced up and YN turned her attention to the sky, where it was meant to be all along. And they stayed like that, close and warm and content until YN looked down at her watch and noticed it was almost staff curfew. 

“Should probably head down now,” she said. 

“Yeah...” he agreed but didn’t move. “Just... lemme stay like this for a couple more minutes.” 

. . .

YN couldn’t stop smiling. It was plastered across her face all day, and only got wider when she saw Harry or remembered last night. She was in a great mood in the morning, a time that she was usually a little bit grouchy. And had almost too much enthusiasm when her campers won a basketball game. At pool time, she actually changed into her bathing suit and played with the kids, jumping and diving in and taking silly pictures. 

Harry was being sweet on her all day too. At breakfast, he made her coffee and let her eat off of his plate. He disciplined a camper so she didn’t have to when they were refusing to clear off their lunch plate. And he sat next to her during every program and activity - which wasn’t different from normal, but given what had just happened, it felt different to YN. Some little empty spot inside of her heart that had been there for as long as she could remember felt like it had been filled with a magic, sparkling warmth that only Harry could give her. She remembered how Harry had told her that night behind the cabin that he knew she was lonely, and YN knew in that moment that she was never going to feel lonely again. Not as long as Harry was around. 

Like every day, the campers pestered her about Harry, but she indulged them a smidge more. When they giggled over how cute he was she casually agreed, and when they asked what his hugs were like she described them as solid and warm and safe. When they asked if they were dating, she still said no but she said it with a bit more of a smile than usual. 

In the early afternoon during art time, the girls were working on ceramics and the boys were having a turn at tie-dye. YN doesn’t always participate in these activities with the campers, often taking the time where they are being supervised by additional staff to take a step back and relax or gossip with Harry. But he was heavily engaged in helping his kids with their tie dye (mostly making sure they didn’t squirt dye at each other) so YN decided it was as good a time as ever to try her hand at making a pot. There was definitely some trial and error involved, and when Harry walked over to check on her “need some water or anything?” she couldn’t stop herself from dabbing a spot of wet clay onto his nose, both of them giggling. 

They sat together during the daily staff meeting, Harry’s arm securely around YN’s shoulder as Mitch droned on with information that they were meant to be listening to. She had to resist the urge to melt into his side the same way she melted into him while held her on the cliff the night before. In all honesty, she hardly paid any attention to the meeting. Her mind was too busy replaying visions of her and Harry hiking, looking at the stars, kissing... 

Harry stood up, shaking YN out of her thoughts as the meeting ended. He turned around to look at her with a soft smile. 

“So, steal some snacks? Watch TV in the lounge?” he suggested. 

“No, let’s... let’s hang out in my cabin.” 

Harry’s smile grew wider as he knew exactly what she was thinking. They walked up the hill hand in hand, giggling as they fell through the doorway of the cabin, trekking over the messes left by campers after weeks of not cleaning. They made it to the front of the cabin and stood in front of her bed. 

Hooking his fingers into her belt loops, he pulled her in closer to him so their centers matched. Her breath was heavy as she looked into his eyes and started giggling softly, one hand on his bicep and the other resting over his heart. Matching her energy, Harry placed a few pecks on her lips before leaving short kisses on the tip of her nose, her cheek, her forehead. Her laughter grew with his every touch and she felt the butterflies in her tummy dancing like fireworks. 

Stopping for a moment, Harry backed up and tilted his head, hearts in his eyes as he admired YN who started blushing uncontrollably. 

“Y’so.... fuckin’ beautiful, shit,” he murmured under his breath. Her blush grew even deeper. 

“Shut up and kiss me,” she responded, moving her hand from his arm to bury her fingers in the hair at the back of his head. 

“Alright.” With a smile, he dove back in, kissing her deeply. 

The night before on the cliff was gentle, timid, unsure, and soft. But this time was eager and hungry. One of his hands stroked up her side, thumb gently passing over the side of her breast and then snaking around to her upper back, where he used his new leverage to push her even closer to him. His other hand remained on her hip, squeezing tightly, and she hoped there might be faint bruises left over. 

As they stood there together, making out in an empty cabin in the middle of the day, YN was the happiest she could ever remember being. Historically, she had not always loved making out compared to other acts she could be doing instead, but with Harry, she would take whatever he would give her. His lips were soft and plush, his body was warm, and she never felt more wanted than in that moment with him. 

He let his hand wander from her hip around her back to appreciate her ass. Squeezing one cheek lightly, the tips of his fingers reached below the frayed hemline of the shorts and came in contact with her soft skin. 

“Fuck, babe. Driving me crazy running ‘round in these things,” he groaned against her lips. 

She giggled in response, becoming pliant as he turned their bodies similarly to how they navigated the platform on the ropes course, and the back of her knees hit the edge of her bed. Their lips broke for a moment as she rearranged herself to be lying down on the twin-sized mattress. Harry followed her, his left arm supporting his body on the bed next to her shoulder and his right hand finding its place on her jaw. He hovered above her, tilting her chin up to meet his as he reconnected their lips. 

That’s when she felt his hips drop down to meet hers. She let out a small gasp into the kiss as she felt the extent of his excitement, and he chuckled under his breath in response. They tried not to break their lips apart, but when he rolled his hips into hers, she couldn’t help but let out a shallow breath, mouth open wide. 

“Fuck...so much I wanna do... don’t know where t’start,” Harry admitted, lips brushing up against YN’s. 

“Harry, I’m gonna be honest, I’m so fucking wet right now I don’t even care what you do but if you don’t do something right now I’m going to literally die,” she begged. 

He laughed a bit at that, shifting his body enough to leave a soft kiss on her forehead. 

“Want me to take care of you?” he asked.

“Please.”

“How much time do we have left?” 

YN looked at her watch. “A little over 40 minutes.” 

“Ok,” he nodded, gears clearly spinning as he thought through his plan. “I can work with that. But next time,” he raised a brow, making sure she was looking at him before repeating himself. “I can make that work, but next time we’re gonna go slow, alright?” 

She nodded her head eagerly, still desperate for him to do something, anything. To touch her or kiss her or something. 

“Eager today, hm?” 

“Harry, I’ve been waiting for this for so long, please just touch me.” 

He laughed again, leaning down to kiss at her jaw, behind her ear, and down her neck. Desperately, he wanted to leave a mark on her pulse point but he knew better than that given the circumstances. Still, he took his time, appreciating every bit of her body that he had access to. Her shoulder, her collar bones, the top of her chest. 

Finally, his hands found their way under the hem of her shirt and started to lift slowly. His touch on her skin felt like fire in the best possible way. 

“Can I?” he asked. Again, she nodded her head. 

She sat up a bit to help him lift her shirt up over her head, which he threw to the ground to join the rest of the mess in the cabin. Before YN could lay back down completely his hand twisted around to her back, resting flat over the clasp of her bra. 

“And...?”

“Yes,” she breathed out desperately.

With a quick twist, he released the clasp and she wiggled her shoulders to help the old, unexciting bra fall down. He took it the rest of the way off of her, throwing it on the floor as well. Then he sat back for a moment, eyes glued to her body, admiring her wordlessly. YN started to squirm under his harsh gaze, tempted to cover herself with her arm. 

She started to move to block his view, but he caught her hand just in time and placed it back beside her. 

“No just... so pretty I jus’ wanna...” his voice drifted off and his gaze turned softer as he leaned down and started leaving kisses on the tops of her breasts. 

YN closed her eyes, appreciating the feeling of his mouth on her body, finally. While his mouth focused on one side, his hand kneaded at the other until they switched. He sucked and pinched at her nipples until they were standing up proud for him to lick at. But he was moving slowly, too slowly, and they only had limited time before they had to pick up their campers from electives. 

“Harry, this is great but I need you to-” 

“I know,” he cut her off.

Harry left one last kiss on each breast before trailing his mouth down her stomach until he reached the top of her denim shorts. He hooked a finger beneath the waistband and looked up at her, waiting for her nod before he continued to pull down her shorts and panties in one pull. She lifted her hips to help him and he threw them onto the floor with the rest of her clothes.

“Take off your shirt,” she demanded. 

He smiled, pulling his shirt from the back of his neck and tossing it aside. 

“Like what you see?” he teased.

With a straight face, she responded “Yes, now please.” 

Harry giggled a bit, sitting back on his knees at the end of the bed. He placed his hands on her thighs and looked up at her with a soft gaze as he left a gentle squeeze. 

“Now this,” he said, dimple popping on one side, “is where I keep that promise from the other night.” 

It took YN a moment to break through the fog in her brain and remember what he was talking about - a partner-induced orgasm. 

“Bold of you to assume you can do it.” 

“Is that a challenge? I take this very seriously,” he replied, smile still plastered across his face. 

She nodded. 

“Alrigh’ then, spread your legs for me darlin’,” he told her softly, dragging his hands down her thighs and helping to spread her open. 

He took his place in between her legs, and exactly as he had with her chest he took a moment to admire her body in front of him. 

“Can’t believe y’hid this pussy from me for so long,” he said mostly to himself, shaking his head. 

YN felt the cold air meet her center and shivered. 

“Won’t be cold for long, I promise.” 

With that, Harry dove down and got to work. He started by licking her core up and down, appreciating it and getting a feel for her body. When he sucked lightly on her clit she felt her body jolt, completely out of her own control. And when his tongue entered her, she threw her head back on the pillow. 

But the killer was when he sat up a bit to take a breath and used his hands to spread her lips apart, keeping direct eye contact with her as he let a trail of spit land right on her most sensitive spot. 

“Harry,” YN said breathlessly. “It’s... it’s a lot but it’s so... fuck H... you’re doing so good you...” She could barely get a sentence out but tried her best knowing that he liked the praise. 

“Y’like that? Good... you’re doing so good for me, baby.” Her body shuddered again, but this time it wasn’t from the temperature in the room. Maybe she liked the praise a little bit too.

“Harry...”

“I know baby, I know,” he whispered against her skin, not stopping his movements. 

He looked right up at her then, making eye contact as he put on a show of licking at her little button. It didn’t last for long though, since she closed her eyes to cope with the pleasure she was feeling. By this point, she was squirming and wiggling beyond her control, and Harry had to place his arm over her lower tummy to help keep her still for him. 

They were in a rush timing-wise, but based on Harry’s movements she would have thought they had all the time in the world. He used his tongue in long, languid strokes, his fingers assisting with her clit while he tasted her. Rubbing in slow circles, his movements somehow matched the low groans he was letting out at her taste. 

“Best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured under his breath before looking up at YN’s face. “Could stay down here all day, y’know that?” 

“Harry, please. We don’t have much time.” 

She was right, his slow movements were eating away at their deadline and if he wanted to get her to the finish line he was going to have to start working for it. He looked at the time on her bedside clock, eyes going wide as he saw that they only had 20 minutes left. 

“Want you to relax for me, can you do that?” he asked her. “Only gonna work if you relax and let me work, ok?” 

“I’ll try.”

“Good girl.”

She keened at the phrase, and blood would have rushed to her cheeks if it wasn’t already rushing down to her throbbing clit. A bit embarrassed, YN was relieved that Harry didn’t say anything about her reaction, but secretly hoped he noticed enough that he would at least say it again. 

As he refocused again, he brought his mouth to her clit and filled her with his fingers. She hadn’t had anyone inside of her for a long time, so even though his fingers were smaller than her vibrator, the sensation took a moment to get used to. But he hardly gave her any time at all, thrusting his fingers in and out of her at a ruthless pace. Meanwhile, his lips encased her enlarged clit, sucking hard in pulses and using his tongue to circle around the area. It was a lot, and it was so good. 

“Harry... I... fuck... you’re so... Harry...” 

He hummed without lifting his mouth from its spot and the vibrations went straight to her core. She could feel her stomach starting to tighten up, her toes starting to curl, the muscles in her legs starting to tense. With one hand she grabbed at the sheet, the other buried deep in his hair and starting to pull. She wanted to tell him he was doing a good job, wanted to tell him she was going to cum soon, wanted to tell him ‘thank you for trying so hard’, wanted to appease the praise kink she knew he had. But in that moment her brain was relegated to a pile of mush and if she tried to say any words she was confident they would come out like gibberish. 

So instead she opened her mouth, allowing her vocal cords to wake up and add some music to the heavy breathing and panting she had been doing up until that point. Her small moans did the talking for her, letting him know she was close and starting to lose control. 

The octave of her sounds went up suddenly when he twisted his fingers, rubbing them against the top of her walls and finding that elusive spot that no other man had managed (or even tried) to find. Her hips started bucking towards him on their own accord, and that’s how she knew he was really going to keep his promise. 

“Harry... I... Harry,” was all she could get out of her mouth prior to the flood of pleasure ripped through her body. It was completely different than the orgasms she had caused by herself. Maybe her vibrator could be a bit stronger than his fingers, but with Harry never stopping his motions, she felt grateful and happy in a way that the small robot could never make her feel. Her eyes squeezed tightly closed, head leaning all the way back to reveal her elongated neck, and she tugged even harder at Harry’s hair (which only made him moan again, increasing the sensations she was experiencing in that moment). 

YN wasn’t even aware of the noises she was making or how loud she was being, even though she probably should have tried to keep quiet as the old buildings were definitely not soundproof to any extent. But in that moment none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was Harry and the way he was making her feel. 

He continued rubbing and thrusting and sucking and licking until she couldn’t take any more, whimpering as she used her grasp in his hair to push him away. She was panting, eyes still closed as she attempted to catch her breath. 

Opening her eyes just in time, YN saw Harry bring his fingers up to his mouth, sucking them clean followed by wiping his shiny face on the back of her discarded shirt. He crawled up the bed to lie down next to her, and she knew she had a stupid smile on her face but she didn’t even care. 

“Told you I’d make it happen for you this summer. Dream team, right?” 

She giggled at that. 

Looking at her watch, she realized they only had 10 minutes left until they had to be down the hill with their campers, which meant they only had 5 minutes until they had to throw their clothes back on and leave the cabin. 

“Is five minutes enough for me to... for you... your turn?” she settled on, unsure of how to ask what she was suggesting. 

Harry let out a short breath. “Shit, YN. After watching you do that I think I could cum in about 30 seconds. I mean. Fuck.” 

YN giggled as she reached down to his tummy, spreading her fingers out to feel his soft skin and muscles before drifting lower to the top of his shorts. 

“Gonna let me help, then?” she asked softly. 

He nodded in response as YN hooked her fingers in his waistband and pulled his pants down. When his length sprang up and nearly hit his stomach, she had to pause. YN wanted so badly to admire his cock, to appreciate his body the way he had done for her, or maybe even more so. But they didn’t have time. She could swear it was both longer and thicker than what he had described while they were drinking a few days ago, but she could easily be remembering wrong. Regardless, it had no business being as pretty as it was. Solid, a thick vein running up the side, his head sensitive and nearly purple as he started to leak. 

But right as she was about to reach for it and get to work, Harry stopped her. He grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips where he kissed each of her knuckles. 

“Wait, no babe,” he told her. “We don’t have time and I want... I want things to always be good with us, yeah? I made you feel good, and next time it can be my turn, ok?” 

With a few minutes left over, the two of them opted to stay where they were in her bed, YN resting her head on Harry’s chest and their arms wrapped around each other. This was the type of holding close she had been secretly hoping he was talking about up on the ropes course. She heard his heartbeat eventually start to slow down, and his breathing stretched out. If they had more time, they definitely would have both fallen asleep like that. 

But they didn’t. With five minutes left until electives ended, at the time they should have been walking out of the door, YN and Harry groaned in a very unsexy way as they pulled themselves out of the bed. Harry threw his clothes back on quickly, but YN had to dig through her shelf to find a new shirt and make sure to hide the dirty one at the bottom of her laundry bag. 

After changing, YN turned around to see Harry looking at her with a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing just...” he placed a short kiss on her lips. “Alright, now we can go.” 

It was like that for a few days, then, spending that quality alone time together in her cabin during hours off. On nights off they had to get more creative with their locations - the storage room on the field, behind the infirmary, in the oversized bathroom, on a platform hidden behind some trees that no one ever used. It was risky, sure. But it was exciting, and fun, and new. YN didn’t really care where they were or what they were doing as long as they were doing it together. 

Harry was so good with his words, too. So many years of practice made him great at getting her worked up just by what he said to her and how he said it. Sometimes he would whisper something naughty in her ear during the staff meeting when they were surrounded by their peers. But mostly he spoke to her in that perfect way while he was knuckles deep inside of her, or his head was buried between her legs, or his dick was inside of her mouth and his hand was on the back of her head. 

They always felt like they had limited time. Even on nights off, there was a curfew and the ever-present risk of getting caught. They were hardly the first couple to hook up at camp but still, no one wanted to get caught in the act. So with the risk and time limits hanging over their heads, they never felt safe enough to really go for it, to fully give themselves to one another in the way they really wanted to. 

YN didn’t mind though. Ever since that night on the cliff, she craved Harry’s lips on hers. It was like a drug. She started getting distracted while he was talking to her because instead of staring into his bright eyes, she was gazing longingly at his plush lips. On more than one occasion she caught herself right in time before leaning in to kiss him in front of campers. When they finally got to be alone, the first thing she would always do is attach herself to him by the lips and swear she would never let go. 

They weren’t always being naughty while they were alone though. Oftentimes they were doing the same thing they had always been doing, just with some extra affection. They still snuck into the kitchen to steal snacks but hid in an empty room so they could give each other kisses between bites. She told him about her day with her head on his lap as he played with her hair. And she scratched his back lightly while he was face down on her bed complaining about a camper. Sometimes they held hands and walked through the forest at night, reminiscing over old memories. And a lot of the time they held each other close, cuddling warm and cozy without saying a word. 

One night they decided to hike to the hidden campsite that was never used anymore and do some more stargazing together. They sat down on a big rock and Harry wrapped his arm around YN to hold her close and keep her warm. Like they always had, they would point out shapes in the stars to each other, discussing the universe or whatever else was on their minds. But what was on their mind tended to be them together, and in between, they couldn’t keep from kissing each other. YN even caught Harry looking at her when she was trying to point out a puppy she had found in the stars. 

“H, you’re not looking,” she chastised him softly.

“I’m looking right where I wanna be, babe.” He left a kiss on her cheek before finally turning to see where she was pointing to. 

And when it was quiet, they would talk about the future. They discussed their career paths, and how YN always wanted a little home with a picket fence and a dog. And Harry told her about the garden he always dreamed of when he was little. She told him about the cities in America she was considering when it was time to leave camp and start a year-round job, and Harry desperately tried to convince her that London was better. 

“But it’s so foggy and gray, Harry,” she had complained.

Harry shrugged. “Sure it’ll brighten up if you’re there. You’ll see. I’m taking you in September, and don’t even try to stop me.” 

And she didn’t. She loved the idea of getting to visit London with Harry, finally seeing the places he had been telling her about for years. But mostly she wanted to see him in his other comfort zone - camp was definitely a home to him but his real home, she was sure, would bring out something else in him that she might not have been able to see yet. And she always wanted to see more of him. 

One day they decided to do things a bit backward. Instead of sneaking out at night, they each slipped out of their cabins early in the morning, before the sun was up. YN was giggling to herself when she found Harry at the trailhead for the cliff in the corner of the field. They were each still in their pajamas, wrapped up in sweatshirts and bracing the chilly morning air. They made it up the hill in time to watch the sunrise over the camp together. The wind was sharper up there, so YN brought herself close to Harry, hugging him tightly and tucking her head under his chin. He held her close, rubbing up and down her back to help keep her warm as they looked out at the pinks and oranges in the sky together before quickly hurrying back down and into their cabins before anyone could realize they were missing. 

YN was notoriously not a morning person, but it was impossible to say no to Harry if he suggested something so special. To make it up to her, he had her coffee and breakfast waiting for her in the cafeteria that morning. 

Even in her sleepy state, Harry was able to make her laugh at breakfast that morning. They always laughed together, but in the recent days since they kissed they had been laughing even more. It was a big lift, considering Harry had been making her laugh for years. But for some reason, every word that came out of his mouth seemed funny, and she couldn’t keep herself from giggling. She was just as bad as some of her campers, except they would run away as the giggles broke out. With nowhere to run, YN was relegated to childish laughter right in front of Harry. But he never seemed to mind. She could swear it made him smile deeper. 

Harry took that laughter to heart, apparently. Because after his little move at capture the flag worked on her, he was desperate to catch YN like that again. He practically chased her around the pool until the lifeguard actually blew a whistle at them. She slowed down to a walk, but not for long as he rushed up beside her, grabbed her by the waist, and jumped into the deep end with her screaming. They came up for air laughing and gasping for breath. YN tried to shove him a bit, but Harry just swam away, daring her to catch him. 

And YN didn’t hold back anymore, either. Not that she really was before. But when he walked into dinner wearing a yellow shirt that showed off his honey skin tone and gray shorts that were a bit shorter than his regular tan line, she couldn’t control herself.

“You look hot,” she told him after looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. 

He shrugged. “I was out in the sun all day. Here I got you that salad dressing you like,” he said, passing a plate over to her. 

Harry had always taken care of her, asking if she needed water, reminding her to grab a jacket. He redoubled his efforts in that area. Refilling her water for her when the line at the fountain was long, reminding her to actually eat her meals when she got distracted by a needy camper, even bringing an extra one of his sweatshirts one evening because he knew that no matter how much he reminded her, she would always forget how chilly it gets once the sun goes down. The effort was big enough that YN noticed, like really noticed. And for the first time, she realized that he had been doing some of these things all along. And maybe if she wasn’t so dense she would have noticed that he didn’t just treat her so well because they were best friends, but because he cared so deeply for her that he couldn’t help it. 

YN did nice things for Harry as well. In addition to the onslaught of hugs he was receiving, she gifted him the clay pot she had made in art a few days prior. She painted it rainbow, and when she gave it to him she promised that on their next day off they would buy potting soil and a nice plant to grow in it. She snuck some of his dirty clothes into her bag when it was girls’ laundry day and he was running out of clean socks. Over the years she had made Harry countless friendship bracelets, but it was always because he asked her. Now she was making him one of the biggest she’d ever made and wouldn’t even let him pick the colors because the colors are based on my impression of your aura. You can’t give me any hints. 

The campers definitely noticed that something had changed between them as well, but for once, YN didn’t really mind their badgering. She started answering their questions a little bit more coyly. Instead of saying no when they asked if she was dating Harry, she would respond “well, what did I say last time? Do you think anything is different than the last hundred times you asked?” They were so intrigued by him, begging and begging for him to come by their cabin in the evening again, that YN finally relented and invited him to bring his guitar to sing lullabies. 

That night was a good deal for YN anyway. She got to spend more time with Harry, listen to his beautiful singing voice, and even put her campers to bed earlier than usual. His voice was nothing short of angelic to her ears, and apparently, the kids agreed. Most of them drifted off within fifteen minutes of his arrival. And although he was technically supposed to be singing to the campers, he spent most of the time looking directly into YN’s eyes. After most of the campers had drifted off, he played both Landslide and The Chain by Fleetwood Mac, which YN knew were two of his all-time favorite songs. His voice was soft and calming as YN eventually tucked herself into bed. 

Before he left, Harry gave YN a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Sleep well, baby,” he whispered to her, careful not to let any lingering ears hear the pet name. 

Already under the blankets and cozy, YN decided it was probably best to call it an early night. Not long ago she had been kept up late because she was thinking of Harry - but this night, she felt comforted and safe even just by the memory of him being there. She imagined he was in the bed with her, innocently cuddling up close to each other. That night she dreamt of his voice singing only to her while she rested her head on his chest, his arms embracing her, warm under the blanket in a room by themselves.

It might have been fun and games for the campers, but trouble came in the form of other staff noticing that things were changing. No one could really point to anything in particular because if they said it out loud, it sounded like the kind of stuff they always did - sitting together at meals, gossiping during programs, spending nights off together. What had changed was in the unspoken moments - the way they looked into each other’s eyes, the vibe let off while they were together.

It had gotten to a point where Mitch had actually reprimanded the two of them for spending too much time together and not enough time with their campers. They tried to argue that they were often together because they were with their campers, but it was to no avail. The ultimatum was that if they weren’t sitting with their campers at the next meal time, they wouldn’t be allowed in the same age group next session. And that was a risk neither of them were willing to take, especially not now. 

So they sat at the table eating their soggy tacos for lunch surrounded by 11 and 12-year-olds and pretending like everything was exactly the same. YN tried desperately to follow the stories the kids would tell, to understand the gossip they were spinning, but she always lost her way. Harry, on the other hand, was right there with them. He really shined while he was doing his job. He listened, he made them laugh, and he gave great advice. The girls were still coming up to him with random questions after his promise to always be honest with them after that first night in the cabin. 

And honestly, even while YN was surrounded by kids, she had a pretty narrow vision of Harry. She was practically blinded by the light he was letting off. Multiple times the kids had to reach around her to pass the sauce because she wasn’t paying enough attention. And normally she would have felt guilty - she really prided herself on her job as a counselor. But at this point, she didn’t really care as much as she cared about listening to whatever words came slowly dripping out of Harry’s mouth. 

So they met the ultimatum, but only barely. 

At dinner, Mitch instructed them to sit completely separately from each other. They needed to show the campers that you should be friends with everyone! And as hard as it was, both of them knew they had to do it. A little time apart would be ok. And they weren’t truly apart anyway, they were only sitting at different tables for one hour for dinner. How bad could it be? 

YN honestly thought it wasn’t too bad at all. At first, she was frustrated because after spending days completely absorbed in Harry, the thought of losing one of their favorite moments of the day together was going to be difficult. But she ended up sitting with a group of campers and Niall, and she already knew he could be fun after they were color wars captains together. He was funny and made her laugh with his dramatic stories and big gestures. The kids ate up every word that came out of his mouth (including when he told them to eat their vegetables). 

“Y’know,” he turned to her when the kids were mostly distracted. “On color wars day, when we went back to the cabin after lunch, he was all mopy and grumpy,” Niall told her. 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. But he always gets like that when you’re not around.” 

This was news to YN, but she couldn’t say she was surprised. She often felt out of sorts when they were separated too, and after the way he had been treating her so sweetly recently... 

“He was so cranky I had to mess with him so of course I put a peeled banana in his pillowcase that night. Didn’t laugh as much as I had hoped but, it helped.”

YN laughed at the story, and she kept laughing as Niall told her about more pranks and jokes he had pulled on Harry and others. And because she couldn’t see the look in Harry’s eyes from across the room as he watched her laughing at Niall’s jokes, she thought everything was fine and dandy. She happened to be standing next to Niall during closing circle that evening, and while the arm around her waist wasn’t Harry’s, it was nice being supported by someone over the age of 12. When the song ended, the kids all started to hug each other goodnight, so naturally, YN gave Niall a quick hug and then sought out Harry who was on the other side of the room. 

YN was excited to get a moment to talk with Harry after being separated from him for most of the day, but as she approached him she saw a deep furrow in his brow. Her smile dropped quickly as she cocked her head to the side, questioning him.

“Why’re you so grumpy?” 

“Not grumpy,” he denied, voice deeper than usual. 

She smiled then, reaching up to push back a curl of his hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. Grabbing his face lightly, she used her thumbs to try and smooth out the crinkle in his brow. His gaze softened a touch, but not as much as she had hoped. 

“Definitely grumpy about something...” 

He sighed. “Just... I mean just because we weren’t allowed to be together today doesn’t mean y’gotta be all over Niall, y’know?” he said softly so no one else could hear. 

At first, YN thought he was kidding and started to chuckle. But when his expression didn’t change she realized how serious he truly was. 

“Oh babe, I wasn’t all over Niall. He’s a nice friend, gives good hugs. No need to be jealous.” She used a gentle tone, hoping to soften him up a bit. 

“‘M not jealous,” he insisted. “It’s just...” he grabbed her hand and pulled her body closer to his, but still not as close as she knew he wanted. Whispering in her ear he finished his sentence, “You’re mine, ok?” 

“Course, H. We’re the dream team.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “We’ve always been the dream team, but now you’re really mine...”

“Oh.” She didn’t know how else to respond. The comment made her insides feel like melted marshmallows and the campfire that burnt them all at the same time. 

“I don’t like to share,” he admitted. 

YN stood there for a moment, thinking until a lightbulb went off. 

“You don’t have to share me, H. In fact... meet me by the parking lot again tonight. Think it’s a good night for our spot, yeah?” 

They agreed, and YN gave him a short kiss on the cheek goodbye, immediately blushing and looking around to see if anyone saw. She thought she might be in the clear, but just in case, she started brainstorming excuses. Harry could apparently see the gears rotating in her head because he cut off her thoughts.

“Tell them it’s a British thing - they won’t know any better.” 

And the line worked because the girls definitely had something to say when they were back in the cabin. They were so thoroughly convinced that YN and Harry were in love that the little one started asking things like “What’s the nicest thing he’s ever done for you?” and “Does he like to cuddle at night?” She brushed them off as usual, but it was getting harder every day to keep up the charade. Before they had gotten together it was annoying but fun to field their questions. But now? Now it was getting to be a bit of a struggle because camp rules required them to never find out the truth. 

She clicked the walkie-talkie three times as she headed out the door, and smiled when she heard three clicks in return. Practically skipping down the hill, she made her way to the parking lot where Harry was already waiting for her. Although this time she was hoping he had no alcohol with him. 

When they were still a few yards away from each other, YN couldn’t help but jog, jumping up into his open arms. She stood on her toes, arms around his neck, and kissed his lips eagerly. It was difficult, though, because both of them were smiling like teenagers. 

“Your hair looks nice,” she told him, dragging a hand through his locks after they separated their lips. 

“You’re only saying that because you want to get in my pants,” he teased.

She shrugged. “No, I think your hair looks nice and I wanna get in your pants.” 

He kissed her nose sweetly and then turned his attention away from her and back to the trunk of his car. 

“Listen I have a few things I thought we could bring with us...” he trailed off as he searched around in the endless dark void. 

“You are not drugging me up again, Styles,” she demanded.

“Don’t worry babe, wouldn’t even dream of it. I have... ah!” He looked proud of himself as he pulled out what looked to be an old blanket.

“Y’always get cold, even with a sweatshirt, so I thought we’d bring some blankets. And I knew you’d forget your water, so I brought some extra.”

“Take such good care of me, H.” 

They walked hand in hand down the path on the way to their old spot, recounting their days to one another. For the first time in a long time, they actually had new information for each other after spending some time apart. One of Harry’s boys might’ve sprained his ankle during sports time, causing a whole scene and refusing to go to the infirmary. And one of YN’s girls had gotten a crush on an older boy that she couldn’t stop talking about. Both of them, it turns out, had to field more questions than usual from their campers regarding their relationship. 

“Getting harder to convince them nothin’s happening,” Harry told her. “I think they see the way I look at you.” 

They reached their spot, the small stage in the middle of the clearing near the lake. Harry spread out one of the blankets he had brought and they laid down on it, on their backs so they could look up at the sky.

It was quiet, except for the rustling of the trees as the wind blew or the scurrying of a small animal a short distance away. She held his hand, interweaving their fingers as they settled into their peaceful surroundings. Even with all the other new fun things they were doing together, nothing would ever beat this - stargazing in their spot together. And for the first time in a long time, YN’s head wasn’t spinning with scenarios or ideas or questions. She was just content. Harry was with her, the stars were above her, and she was content. 

“After the summer, I think we should travel together,” he stated out of nowhere.

She laughed a bit. “Sure, H. You gonna pay for that on your amazing camp salary?” 

“I’ll find a way.” 

It was quiet again for a moment. 

“Can I wear your yellow sunglasses tomorrow?” she asked softly.

“Sure.” 

Another pause. 

“What do you think the stars would taste like?”

At first, she wasn’t sure if he was serious, but he asked the question softly so she considered it.

“Putting aside the fact that they’re like... fire or whatever...” they both giggled. “I think, like, metaphorically, they look like they taste like honey.” 

“Honey?”

“Yeah.” 

She didn’t explain. And he didn’t ask. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I like having you with me.”

“Always been here, babe. Was waiting for you to realize it.” 

She rolled over, then, to give him a quick kiss on the lips, though they were both smiling through it making it a bit difficult logistically. 

“I just wanna tell everyone that you’re mine,” he admitted quietly. 

“Everyone?” YN started. “I think you really just wanted to tell Niall today.” 

Harry laughed. “Yeah well... someone has to tell him eventually, hm?” 

“Tell him what, exactly?” she challenged. 

He looked at her with confusion. “That you’re mine?” His voice went up a bit at the end. 

“Is that a question? What... what does being ‘yours’ mean?” 

And he answered her question much like he did her question up on the cliff. 

“It means this-” He rolled over, kissing her deeply and bringing his hand up to rest on her jaw. 

YN wanted more answers, she wanted to get him to actually explain things for once. But more than that she wanted to keep feeling his lips on hers and his hands on her body. She would never get completely used to the feeling of kissing her best friend, but it was so good that the nerves faded away quickly. 

She reached to bring one hand up into his hair and the other one around his back. He rolled further on top of her, still hovering a bit but allowing their bodies to touch. She felt surrounded by him, and his smell, and the heat coming from his body. They were rolling around making out on an old blanket atop an abandoned stage, it was comfortable, and she never wanted the feeling to end. 

“Haven't... haven’t done much star g-gazing,” she stuttered between kisses. 

“Fuck the stars.” 

“Or you could fuck me.” 

He stopped then, backing his face away from hers so he could look into her eyes. Waiting a moment, he left ample space for her to take back her comment, to say it was a joke, to withdraw consent in any way. But she didn’t. She bit her lip, staring up at him like he was the entire universe, and silently begging him to do more. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, YN,” he replied breathlessly. 

“If I can’t finish, that’s on you.” 

He chuckled at her response before kissing her again, this time with more desire and urgency. Using his arms to support himself, he readjusted his legs so one was against her center, and started rolling his hips into her. She gasped into the kiss and he bit down on her lower lip lightly. 

Without stopping his movements, he whispered to her between breaths. “I think... you’ve always been mine... just didn’t know how... how to tell me.” 

And he wasn’t wrong in that assumption. She had always been his best friend, his default partner, his confidant, his dream team. And he was just as much hers, she just never realized that when he reminded her to drink water or gave her his sweatshirt it was because she had him utterly and completely whipped for her. 

“Tellin’ you now...” 

“Tell me then. Tell me you’re mine.” 

He practically growled at the last phrase, digging his hips into hers with more force and causing her to gasp again. Every bit of his body felt good, and she was only barely touching him. Her grasp in his hair got tighter, and her fingers curled in to grab at his shirt on his back. 

“Yours... I’m yours.”

“Fuck.” Harry hung his head low, trying to even out his breathing. “That’s by far the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me... I can’t... YN I can’t wait any longer. Gotta make you mine for real. Gotta... shit.” 

“You wanna fuck me?” she filled in for him. 

And again he groaned at her words. “Fuck yes, babe. I... shit I don’t have a...”

“It’s ok,” she cut him off. “I... I’ve got an IUD and I’m clean and you...”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m clean. Promise. Shit, you sure you’re ok with this?” he asked, giving her another opportunity to back out. 

But she didn’t need it. She was confident that she wanted this as she had never wanted anything else before. 

“I... yes Harry,” she told him. “Just...” 

His head snapped up to look at her when he sensed her hesitation. 

“Just haven’t done this in a while, so I might not be... I’m a bit rusty, ok?”

Harry gave a comforting chuckle.

“Baby, all you gotta do is lay there and look pretty. And you’re doing a damn good job at that. Doesn’t matter what you do, I think I’ve made it pretty clear I’m crazy for you.” 

YN wasn’t typically the most assertive in sexual situations, but in this case, she couldn’t wait any longer. She used her leverage on the back of his head to bring his face down closer to hers and continue kissing him, slipping her tongue between his lips until he opened up and allowed for the intrusion. Their tongues worked together, dancing and drawing shapes around each other furiously. 

Her grip in his hair tightened again and her hand on his back searched for anything to grab onto. He audibly groaned as she started scratching lightly at his skin. She used the opening to further explore his mouth with her tongue, silently begging him for more. 

“Gonna... gonna fuck you so good... make sure everyone knows... knows that you’re mine,” he said between breaths. 

“Yes,” she told him. “Yours... I’m yours... make me feel so good...” 

He groaned at that, her words clearly affecting him as he left his spot on her mouth and allowed himself to lick and suck at the tender spots on her neck instead. At first, she let out a disappointed whine at the loss of contact, but the disappointment quickly turned into pleasure when he bit down harshly on a soft spot right below her ear. 

Slowly, he continued a trail of kisses down her neck, to her chest. Her shirt was in his way and clearly frustrating him.

“Gonna take this off, ok?” he asked, pinching her shirt. 

She nodded and sat up a bit to help him lift the shirt over her arms. He had seen her without it many times now, but he still stopped for a moment to stare and appreciate her body in front of him. 

Mumbling to himself, she barely heard him say, “shit, y’so fucking beautiful... love y’body so much.” He said it quietly, clearly out of pure admiration. 

As she was about to beg him to move, he leaned back down and picked up right where he left off, leaving small, wet kisses to the tops of her breasts. He made his way down a little lower, pulling one of the cups of her bra down and biting down a bit harder just next to her nipple. She whined lightly, but he soothed the area with kisses and then leaned back to admire his work.

He had left a deep, pretty mark, not far from her nipple where it was sure to always be covered. She felt like he was claiming her, and it felt amazing. He continued kissing around the area, hands exploring her body, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. 

“Harry... please do something...” 

“I am doing something,” he teased. 

“Do more.” 

“What do you need, darling? Tell me.” 

She huffed, grip in his hair once again tightening until she heard him hiss against her skin in response to the pain. 

“Touch me,” she breathed. “Need you to touch me.” 

“I am touching you.” 

“No... touch me... here.” 

She took his hand and dragged it down her body to rest above her core. There was a heat swirling in her stomach, stronger than ever before. She could tell she was wet between her thighs and her body had never been more ready for him. 

“Shit, YN,” he groaned. “This mine too?”

She nodded her head.

“No. You gotta say it... say it and I’ll touch you.” 

“It’s yours.” 

“What is?”

“My...my...” in most situations, she hated the word that she knew he was trying to get her to say. But for the first time, she finally understood why it could be so hot because in this moment it was the only word that accurately described not only her body but the way she was feeling. “My pussy is yours.” 

And that’s where Harry just lost it. He moaned at her words, hanging his head between his shoulders for a moment to catch his thoughts and his breath, shaking his head. 

“The things you do to me...” he mumbled beneath his breath. He looked back up at her, “gonna take this off, ok?” he slipped his finger beneath the waistband of her pants. 

She nodded her head, and he got to work stripping her of her pants, then his own top layer of clothing until they were left in their underwear with a blanket draped over them. He kissed around the tops of her breasts before grabbing the other cup of her bra and pulling it down to match the other and expose her to him further. His tongue swirled around her nipple, hand pinching and pulling at the other one. 

“Harry,” she gasped between breaths. “Feels good but... want you... please.”

“I know baby, but you know how big I am. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” he told her between kisses. 

“I’m ready I promise I’m-” 

He cut her off with a desperate kiss to her mouth. As she caught her breath, he moved a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear. 

“Know you feel ready. Just want to make sure. Wanna make my girl feel good, yeah?” 

She nodded her head silently. Hearing him call her his girl did a number on her, and she felt it deep in her tummy. She was his, she had always been his, and she always wanted to be his. 

Harry trailed down her body, leaving a string of kisses in his wake. The moisture from his mouth mixed with the cold night air gave her the chills so she reached for a blanket, but Harry stopped her. 

“Take my sweatshirt, babe,” he whispered. “Wanna fuck you in my clothes.” 

YN was completely surrounded by all things Harry, then. His blankets, his sweatshirt, his mouth. It all smelled like him and she couldn’t keep from taking a big deep breath inside of the hooded jacket. His smell was so nice - had always been comforting but now even more so. She would buy candles of it if she could. 

Harry spread her legs wide, hands on her thighs and thumbs stroking over her skin gently as he looked at her. 

“Look at that...” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “So pretty... look at how wet you are, how swollen that clit is. Is that all for me?” He looked back up at YN, waiting for her to answer. 

She knew now that he needed to hear her words, so in addition to nodding she told him, “yes, all for you.” 

“Because this is my pussy, right?”

“Yes, H. Yours. It’s yours.” 

He couldn’t take it any longer and started working over her center with his mouth and his fingers. 

“Gonna... make you cum... before I fuck you... make you feel good... then make you... mine,” he told her in a low voice between licking and sucking and kissing on her folds. 

She let out an unconscious whimper at that. She knew he would make her feel good - he always did. But something about the way he said it this time made her eyes roll into the back of her head. In desperation, she wanted to respond to him, to hype him up and make him know how wonderful he was making her feel. But she couldn’t get the words out, whines and moans and groans taking their place.

“That’s right... good girl... let it out just like that...'' he encouraged her. “Geez, y’so fuckin’ wet for me.” 

With one hand he stroked her inside walls, driving her crazy, the other sitting firmly on the inside of her thigh to open her back up again every time she tried to close around his head. His hand was a warm and comforting presence on the cold and quiet night, and she let out a gentle sigh. Her sigh was cut off though, and turned into a bit of a squeal as he sucked harder on her clit, curling his fingers inside of her and hitting her best spot. His tongue lapped at her wet folds, hungrily taking everything she would give him. 

It didn’t take long - it never did with Harry. Compared to the other guys she had been with who never made her cum even once, Harry’s ability to do it so quickly and consistently blew her mind. He knew what he was doing before he even touched her, but then he took the time to learn her body too. Harry knew what she liked, what felt the best, what drove her over the edge. He knew which pulls of his hair meant she was feeling good and which meant that he needed to slow down and give her a break. He knew the way her body shuddered when the pressure was building, and he knew the way she tasted after that bubble burst. 

Usually, after she finished, he would kiss back up her body until he reached her mouth and whisper sweet things to her as she came down from her high. But this time, he kept working where he was. He was gentler on her sensitive nub, but his fingers moved faster. He spread her out, opening her up for him and adding in a third finger. YN gasped at that, one hand flying to her own chest and the other finding purchase in Harry’s hair again. 

“H... fuck... s’a lot... feels... a lot,” she told him from above. 

“I know darling,” he comforted her, removing his mouth and leaving careful kisses at the top of her thighs. “But m’cock is gonna be even more. You still want it, right?” 

He was giving her another out, an easy out, and wanted to make sure. They both knew that once you fuck your best friend, there’s no going back. But YN never wanted to go back. It didn’t even feel possible to go back. She just wanted him. And she told him as much. 

“H... make me yours... I want... I wanna be yours.”

Harry sat up on his knees then, one hand with fingers still inside of her and the other getting to work on his own briefs. His cock sprang free, hard as ever and practically leaking from the purple tip. YN’s eyes went straight to it, as they always did. She could never get herself to look away. He looked too pretty. And that pretty thing was about to be inside of her. 

She moaned his name, begging him to hurry up, and he got the message. Removing his fingers from her, he made a show of licking each one. He tapped her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, where he inserted his first two fingers. She closed around him and sucked lightly, tasting herself on his skin. 

“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m waiting for,” she teased back. 

He chuckled before hovering his body over hers and lining up his cock with her center. Slowly he dragged the tip up and down her folds until she let out another little whimper. 

“You want my cock?” he asked her. 

“Yes.” 

“Lemme hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” 

She took a breath. “Want... want your cock, Harry. Want to feel you inside of me. Want-”

He cut her off then as he entered her, entering her slowly and stretching her out. 

She let out little gasps as he went deeper.

“Good girl... know you can take me...” 

She couldn’t help but moan at his words, but her eyes were screwed shut. 

“Look at me, baby. Please...” Harry begged her softly, his words practically a whine. 

Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him like he hung the stars and the moon. But when he pushed in a little further she squeezed her eyes closed again, the feeling tight and the stretch a little tingly.

“S’really big, H.” 

“Relax, baby,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “Gotta relax for me, let me in...” 

She let out a deep breath signally for him to continue until she was completely full of him. Waiting a moment, he gave her time to get used to his size, and he took a moment to get used to the feeling of her around him.

“Fuck baby, ‘slike you were made for me,” he whispered into her ear.

She whined at that, and he took it as a sign to start moving. He started slowly, both of them moaning at the feeling. Dropping his head down to her shoulder, he bit down lightly, causing her to gasp. Her hands came up to his hair and his back again and she held onto him like he was going to float away if she didn’t. 

“Feel so good,” he whispered. “So fuckin’ tight. So...fuck... so good... y’pussy feels like heaven. M’not gonna last very long.” 

“That’s ok, just... just keep going. You’re so big... stretching me... so deep... fuck... Harry, please.” 

She didn’t know what she was begging for, but she knew he would give it to her. And he did, as his hips started snapping against her harder and faster. Her moans and groans and gasps filled the air around them, but neither of them cared since they were far away enough from the rest of the camp. It was just them, under the stars, together. 

“Sound so pretty,” he mumbled between thrusts as she gasped and moaned into the night air. “Best sound in the world... wanna hear that... hear you all the fucking time,” he groaned. 

Harry reached down again then, rubbing her clit with his thumb as his thrusting continued. She accidentally held her breath, only releasing it when his lips met hers in a sloppy kiss. Their lips hardly even touched as they panted into each other's mouths, savoring the feeling and the moment they were having together. 

Her hands frantically searched for something to grab onto on his back, but upon finding nothing she resigned to digging her nails into him lightly. Apparently, that was the right decision, because his movements only sped up more. 

“Tell me how you feel,” he instructed her.

“So good... fuck H you feel... I can’t even...” she let out another gasp as his tip went deeper than ever before, and she felt his smirk against her own lips. 

“Too good for words, hm?”

She nodded her head in agreement. 

They were both trying to hold off for as long as possible, but with the days, weeks, and years of build-up, it was nearly impossible. Both of them knew it was going to be over soon, but neither of them wanted it to end. 

“Fuck... Harry,” she moaned again as he increased the pressure rubbing on her clit. Her body reacted to the change, contracting on his dick and making him see all the stars that were never there. 

“Think you can... can cum again?” he asked her. 

“I don’t... maybe but...” 

“Gonna make my girl cum again,” he stated, sure of himself. 

“Yes, yes I’m yours,” she cried out again, followed by a long whine as the head of his cock brushed against her g-spot. 

He lifted her legs then, her knees bending over his shoulders as he pushed into her again, the new angle giving him deeper access. From higher above her, he could see her breasts wiggling with the movement of her entire body. But she could tell he was looking mostly at the place where they connected, where it was wet and messy and amazing. 

“Mine,” he growled again. 

She nodded her head, unable to make any words come out of her mouth anymore. There was too much happening all at once. The pressure building in her lower stomach, her clit throbbing below Harry’s thumb, her walls being stretched by his length. It was so much, too much. 

“Too much,” she told him.

“Want me to stop?”

“NO!” 

“Then it’s not... not too much,” he concluded, never losing his pace.

“Gonna... soon... almost...” she still couldn’t get her words out, but he was able to decipher her message.

“It’s alright baby,” he whispered. “Cum for me. Want you to cum again for me. Then I’ll cum inside this pretty pussy... my pretty pussy... make you mine. All mine.” 

And she completely lost it at his words. Her back arched up and she pressed up into his warm chest. Her head rolled back as much as it could on the hard surface and her eyes squeezed closed as she felt tears starting to form at the edges of her vision. The feeling was white hot, like a star exploding somewhere in distant space, a mess to experience but beautiful to the viewer. 

So beautiful, in fact, that Harry let his own release go shortly after. He shot ropes and ropes of warm cum, filling her. His hips kept moving, thrusting slower but not giving up, even though he was through. She whimpered at the feeling, both of them fucked raw. When he was too sensitive and just couldn’t take it anymore, his hips eventually stilled. He kissed her neck and shoulder until he could catch his breath but made no move to slip out from inside of her. As they both caught their breaths, YN started rubbing Harry’s back lightly. He hummed at the feeling. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

“You never... you never answered my question?”

“Which question darling?” 

YN tried to think back, her mind still foggy from the two intense orgasms. 

“What do you mean when you say I’m yours?”

There was silence for a moment, their hearts beating in unison but still fast. Most if not all of his weight was on her, and his body was like a furnace keeping her warm. 

“Means I get to do that again.” 

“Will you still be my best friend?”

He laughed at that, before realizing she was serious.

“Of course, sweetheart. Always. Best friend, dream team, girlfriend. They aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Girlfriend?” she asked, a cheerfulness in her voice. 

“Mhmm...if that’s... if you want that?”

“Yes!” she answered quickly. “Want it with you.” 

Harry smiled before kissing her lips lightly. She could see his pupils were still mostly blown out, although it might have been a reaction to the dark night around them illuminated only by the stars above, which they had stopped looking at ages ago. 

“Alright then,” he started. “Looks like we should probably get my girlfriend cleaned up and ready for bed, hm?” 

He made a move to change his position, to pull out of her and do what he had said, but she stopped him with a firm grip.

“Not yet, just... lemme stay like this for a couple more minutes.” 

MASTERLIST | PATREON | USS TAG | WRITING TAG

Deleted Scene - Campout Extra 1: Lemon Over Ice

[kryptonitejelly]

Flyboy (Part 6) | Jake Seresin x Reader  Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader  Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: tw: food / eating (one mention of the phrase “you are eating too little”); general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies; geographical inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Well, Part 6 is here……. I don’t know what to say; but I teared writing this at some point, and I am insanely nervous (Idk why) about posting this, so please let me know your thoughts? We still have the Epilogue, so this baby is not done. I have blurbs / one shots / Flyboy asks that will follow - I’m not sure if the taglist wants to be tagged in the blurbs / one shots that are original (i.e. not asks), please let me know?

As usual, THANK YOU ALL <3 for loving Flyboy, I LIVE for your comments, tags, reblogs, and it has been an utmost pleasure reading them. KISSING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist (If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 6

PART 5 <<

Approximately 6.4k words

“Sooo,” the sound of Phoenix’s voice catches you off guard, and you jump as you straighten up from the bend you had been in, in your attempt to reach towards the back of Penny’s fridge to grab four bottles of beer, spinning around to face her.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.” You say, and she smiles, almost too sweetly as she helps you shut the fridge grabbing two of the beer bottles you had wedged between the fingers of one hand from you.

“You and Hangman,” she says pointedly, staring intently at you.

“What about it?” You question, trying to be as casual as possible, while you pull open one of Penny’s drawers, searching for a bottle opener.

“Is something going on,” she leans against the counter of the kitchen, forcing you to look directly at her. Truth to be told, you and Jake had hid it pretty well. Perhaps not to Penny, Mav, or any other third party who saw you both together, but to the clueless bunch of Naval Aviators who, despite being the few to spend the most time with you both, had not made much of it.

The physical tells were something they hadn’t made much of to begin with, a sure result of having seen Jake flirt his way through too many women and situations over the years. However, the near fight at The Hard Deck where they had seen him at his most protective ever, pure, white hot rage radiating off him - only for you to dispel it so easily, coupled with the subtle, but sure shifts in Jake’s demeanour, had started to arouse suspicion.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” she continues.

In all the years since she had known Jake, Phoenix had never seen him this way - more at ease, more open, happier. It wasn’t to say that his personality with the rest of them had changed drastically, Jake Seresin, was still very much Hangman, boisterous, confident, cocky (particularly in the air), always ready for a challenge, to show and tell that he was better than you, and to say whatever the hell he wanted, but he was also different, somehow happier, with the undercurrent of an unobvious calm and peace to him that they could just feel. It was unnerving to say the least, because it wasn’t something they had seen before, were used to, or had ever known Jake to be.

Bob had noticed it first, the Monday after the week Jake had cancelled fried chicken Friday, after days of sharp but silent observation. It had resulted in Bob telling Phoenix, who then told Rooster, who had went on to relay the message collectively to Coyote, Payback and Fanboy. A group decision was made one afternoon by way of a show of open hands or fists, resulting in Phoenix being the chosen messenger to broad the subject with you.

The difference in Jake had managed to be both outwardly noticeable, and yet not, all at the same time. On the surface, Jake was still Jake, swagger in his step when he walked around TOPGUIN, extolling his own virtues, taking little joking digs at all of them when he could, particularly when they were in the air - “C’mon Rooster, thought the chicken finally learnt to fly.” / “Trace, what does the baby on board in your backseat see?” / “Try to keep up Trace.” / “Aaand, the Relic is off the ground, that ladies and gentleman is called a Pete Mitchell” / “Payback? You mean the thing you can’t dish?” - but come dinner, when they had trooped back home and to you, Jake was somehow different.

The comments were still there - “Sorry boys and girls, I know it must be tough trying to match up to me.” / “Like how Trace and her baby on board fumbled today.” / “Thought Bradshaw was trying to hatch some eggs with the amount of time he was nesting.” / “Garcia and Fitch are always just taking it.” - but at the same time, Jake’s smile was wider, genuinely hitting his eyes and making his greens sparkle; his laugh louder, natural with nothing held back; his body language more open, any tension that he held during the day seemingly having melted away.

More importantly, as they had all come to notice, Jake never left you behind - whether it was purposefully falling behind everyone to bring up the rear just so he could fall in step with you; watching you out of the peripherals of his eyes the moment you left his side at The Hard Deck, right up to the moment you returned just to make sure that you weren’t waylaid by unwanted attention; or even the simplest act of making sure your order never got lost among the barrage of orders of the group; or that you were never cut out, lost or disengaged in the conversation when it dragged on to more Navy-orientated topics which you weren’t as familiar with.

Sure, Pheonix and Bob had caught sight of you and Jake running around the compound one Saturday afternoon, with him sprinting ahead in the last stretch in absolute glee, you yelling at him while trying to catch up, leaving you, quite literally, behind and in his dust - but even then, they had seen with his own eyes, Jake Seresin standing at the finish point, eyes fixed solely on you, waiting for you to meet him, as you yelled and protested your way to the end.

You pull the bottle opener out from the drawer, popping open the caps of the bottles in her hands, and then in yours, before dropping it back, and pushing the drawer shut with a hip. You beckon to Phoenix to exit back out into Penny’s backyard with you to rejoin the group and she follows, her question still hanging in between you both.

You step back out into Penny’s backyard, the cool evening air hitting your skin, your eyes meeting briefly with Jake’s as he looks up in the middle of his conversation with Rooster.

“You’ve only seen Hangman before,” you finally say, you both still out of earshot from the group, before you take a few steps towards the table, “now you get to see Jake.”

She opens her mouth to push her question again, determined to draw out a clear answer or confession from you, only for Jake’s voice to cut in above the chatter, making Rooster turn his neck to glance at the both of you as you return.

“Trace, you got that dog with a bone look on your face,” he starts, “do I have to take you out for harassing my girl?” Jake’s voice is loud enough that it carries across the table, pausing the chatter among the group for a second.

You feel your face heat as you hand a beer bottle off to Bob who receives it with a “thanks”, as he exchanges a look with Fanboy who is seated across the rectangle shaped table, before you settle back into the chair flanked by Jake, and Coyote who is waggling an eyebrow at Payback.

You see a smug, triumphant grin on Phoenix’s face, her question finally answered, as she hands one of the bottles to Rooster before sliding back into her seat beside him.

“Finally,” Penny breaks the moment of silence, throwing up her hands at the confirmation of what she knew, but had been waiting for, for the longest time, Amelia grinning wildly beside her.

“Hear, hear.” Mav raises his beer, to which Bob also does, and the group follows, cheers erupting from Penny’s backyard.

The attention makes you groan, and you hide your face in your hands, turning your body into Jake’s. You had talked about it after the other night at The Hard Deck, and had decided that it was time for the rest to know, directly from you both. You can hear the rumble of his own laughter in his chest, Jake clearly unfazed and not the slightest bit embarrassed at the attention, as he snakes an arm around your shoulders, securing you against him. It only makes the cheers louder, with Coyote sending a loud wolf whistle your way.

-

“Uncle Jake!” The roar of a little voice greets you both as you step through the doors and into the lobby of the hotel. You see a small blonde head sprinting at top speed towards you both, barrelling itself into Jake’s arms which had opened just in time to catch him.

“All this excitement just for me?” Jake exclaims back as he swings his nephew, Kyle, around in the air, before squeezing him tightly against his chest, only for the little boy to squirm in delight.

You see Emma, Jake’s older sister approach, her husband, Liam, and toddler Layla, approach.

“Full attire, really, Jake?” She scoffs taking in Jake’s uniform, but clearly teasing, as she takes reaches out to hug you hello, before coming to a stand in front of her brother.

“Not all of us are on vacation,” Jake shoots back as he sets Kyle down on his feet, before the siblings embrace each other, “some of us still have to work.”

“You only wear it for the looks you get,” Emma retorts with a snort, but being well aware that he had just come from work, as Jake and Liam thump each other on the back in a hug, before Liam reaches out to hug you hello as well.

“Well you gotta agree, I look good.” Jake smirks, not missing a beat, while bending to pick Layla off the ground, hoisting her in an arm and tickling her belly, the toddler shrieking with glee. “Can’t deprive the world of all this now, can we?” He coos the question at Layla who only giggles, patting her uncle’s cheek with her hand.

“I don’t know how you put up with him,” she looks at you as you ruffle Kyle’s hair in a hello, the boy beaming up at you, before slipping his hand into yours, tugging you around in a circle in his excitement.

“None of us do,” the familiar voice of grandma Doris interjects as she and Grace Seresin née Walton, walk into view.

“She’s too sweet to be putting up with your brother,” Grace chimes in, with a glance to her son, who just shrugs, a lazy, self-assured smirk plastered to his face.

Emma tugs Kyle out of your hands, for grandma Doris and Grace to greet you with hugs of their own, before they move onto Jake, who embraces them each with an arm, Layla still nestled happily in his other, her head resting between the crook of his neck, thumb now in her mouth.

“Thank you,” Emma grabs your hands in an exaggerated fashion, clutching them dramatically as she throws a look to Jake, “for putting up with my brother’s clown ass.”

The words coming out from Emma, a grown woman, with perfectly coiffed hair, and designer clothes and shoes that cut a stylish figure, makes you burst out in laughter.

“Just doing my bit of charity for the world.” You manage to say, before grandma Doris links an arm with yours, pulling you towards the door of the lobby, a signal for the rest to follow.

“I’ll cut him out of my will and put you in,” she tells you in a loud stage whisper. You don’t turn back, but if you did, you would have seen Jake grinning broadly, a fond look in his eyes, his niece still cuddled up against him, as he takes in the sight of you and his grandmother walking arm in arm.

-

“You know,” you turn to face Emma at the sound of her voice, clearly directed at you, “he cares about you.”

You both are seated at the end of a table, in the corner of the hotel lobby’, watching as the other members of your party are crowded around the massive cake display case to a side, Layla in her Grace’s arms, and Kyle in Jake’s, Liam and grandma Doris flanking them, as the children attempt to decide which sweet treat to pick.

“I know,” you say, small smile on your lips, as you focus on Jake, before looking back at her.

You and Jake had been mindful of yourselves around the Seresins, not because it would have been an issue, but because you had insisted on not wanting to overshadow their time together with Jake. He had tried to convince you that there wouldn’t have been any overshadowing involved, but you had, with a little help of your hands and mouth, had managed to capture his undivided attention, and be extremely persuasive, to which Jake relented. You weren’t sure if Emma knew, or suspected at the very least. You had always known her to be astute.

“He would probably kill me if I told you this,” she begins, as she leans back in her seat, folding her hands in her lap, “but slightly over three years ago, when you had told him about Dan, that guy you were seeing, he was noticeably…” she pauses, searching for the right words to use, “worked up.”

“I didn’t know,” you start, as you find your gaze wandering back to Jake who is now squatting beside Kyle, both blondes peering into the bottom layer of the display case. “He never said.”

“We were both home during that period,” she recalls, “and staying with grandma, and I found him in the gym abusing a punching bag. His knuckles were raw, eyes like a man crazed.”

She pauses, as you look back to her before continuing.

“I had Kyle with me, he was still just a toddler at that point, and it took him crying for Jake to stop. He told me, quite angrily I might add, that Dan wasn’t good enough for you”, she says as she unfolds her hands from her lap to reach out to squeeze your forearm, “and you deserved so much more.”

She meets your gaze, squeezing your forearm gently again, before adding after a moment of consideration, “I think he meant himself.”

Her words make your jaw slacken, your lips part slightly, as you remember Jake’s words in the car from the other day when he had only said “less so” since you had started seeing Dan.

“My brother can be a dick to a lot of people,” she starts again, a rueful shake of her head, “but not to you, never to you. He’ll never hurt you.” Emma says as she offers you a final smile, as you hear the voices of the group returning to the table.

“We got chocolate and a red velvet,” Jake says, as he slides back into the chair beside you, Kyle clamouring from his lap into yours. He finds you looking at him curiously, a strange expression on his face and he tilts his head to a side, asking silently if you are ok, before darting his gaze to Emma who immediately turns her attention to Liam.

You nod, with a slight tilt of your ahead, signalling that you are fine before you turn your attention back to Kyle who is describing to you, in vivid detail the chocolate cake that he chose.

-

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with?” Jake asks you for the tenth time since you had both left the house, “you’re already in the car.”

“I don’t,” you shake your head as you watch him glance out the side mirror, checking for cars, before he makes the turn. “You should spend some time alone with them before they go back.”

It had been a Seresin filled week, with you spending almost all of your time with grandma Doris, Grace, Emma, Liam, Kyle and Layla during the days, with Jake joining the group only in the evening once he had managed to get out of work. He had however, managed to spend an entire full day with the group yesterday, a Saturday, which largely comprise of him and Liam, chasing Kyle and Layla around the beach, while you, Emma, Doris and Grace watched on, chatting idly.

Emma and her family had left earlier in the morning, but his mother and grandmother who had booked themselves into a later flight, scheduled only for the late afternoon, had asked Jake to meet them for breakfast.

Jake opens his mouth to say something as he glances at you, and you shake your head again, pre-empting his response, your tone firm.

“No Jake, they deserve your undivided attention.” You knew you were always welcome with the Seresins, but you had wanted to give grandmother Doris, Grace and Jake the time they deserved together. You hadn’t made mention of it to Jake, but had gathered from their previous trip to see you in New York (sans Jake), that they missed Jake more than they cared to let on. It wasn’t easy having a grandson and son far from you; what more one that was a Naval Aviator who could be deployed for 6 months, to an undisclosed location at the drop of a hat. You had missed Jake yourself, worried about him during his stints of deployment over the years, even if were both already separated by state, so it was easy for you to empathise.

The seriousness to your voice makes him shut his mouth, choosing instead to reach across the center console and place a hand on your thigh, fingers squeezing lightly in understanding.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” You ask, and Jake shakes his head no.

He had sent his truck off to the workshop, only to have it grounded for a couple of days. You had tried to strong arm him into taking your car, seeing that he was due back to TOPGUN for an afternoon of flights, despite having been able to wrangle a few hours off to spend with his mother and grandmother before they left, but Jake Seresin, if anything, was a stubborn man, who had refused, not wanting to leave you inconvenienced. You had both reached a comprise, being that he would drop himself off to meet the Seresins, and grandma Doris would get her car to drop Jake back at TOPGUN before she left. It wasn’t the smartest solution, but it was the most he would budge on it.

He pulls up kerbside, in front of the hotel his grandmother and mother were staying in and shifts the car into park. You both exit, and Jake waits for you beside the door of the driver’s side, holding the door open, while you step in and up into the seat and buckle yourself in.

“See you later?” He asks, a rhetoric question, but you nod anyway and he kisses you swiftly on the corner of your lips before shutting the door on you and jogging over to the kerb. You duck your head to peer out of the window on the passenger’s side and he winks at you. You press a kiss to your fingers, blowing it at him, and it earns you a wide smile, the sides of his eyes crinkling. You let yourself take it in, Jake smiling, with his hair combed back, uniform hugging him in the right places, before you lift a hand in a wave and drive off, thinking to yourself, god was he handsome.

-

“You’re eating too little.” Grandma Doris asks, eyeing the bowl of yogurt, and granola in front of her grandson.

“Don’t want to be throwing up mid flight.” He explains before popping the spoon into his mouth. “I’ll have more for dinner.”

She hums in acknowledgement, settling back into her chair, while taking a sip from her tea cup, eyes studying her grandson.

“So,” she starts casually, almost too casually for her, and it makes Jake drop his spoon as he leans back to take her in, “were you planning on keeping your poor grandmother in the dark forever?”

Jake knows what she is referring to, but opts for raising brow, waiting for her to elaborate.

“That you both finally became more than just friends.” Grandma Doris stretches out the word finally, and Jake raises his glass to his lips, but his smile is barely covered.

“What gave it away?” He asks, after taking a gulp of water and setting his glass down.

“You did be blind not to know,” Grace scoffs, taking a sip of coffee. You both had hid it well, but a mother always knew her son.

The relationship you and Jake had, was something that had always been special - he was more himself around you, more the Jake that Grace had knew, loved and known from the first day she had held him in her arms, and you, well, you somehow managed to tolerate him, during the good and the bad, accepting him for both his good and bad; but this time, this was different.

Grace had always seen a glimpse of something more in her son’s eyes when he looked to you, only when he knew that you weren’t watching, but this time - she had seen it in his eyes, when he had looked directly at you, and had seen you meet his gaze with the exact same look, of equal intensity in your eyes. She had seen the quiet, content, smile that flickered briefly across both your features, and she just knew.

Her suspicions had been confirmed the night before when Grace’s own mother had nudged her and motioned out the window of the hotel lobby, both of them watching, just in time to catch you run a finger over the the sunburn blooming along the bridge of Jake’s nose, laughing about something they couldn’t hear, to which Jake only reached out to pull you towards him, your face colliding with his chest, body shaking with laughter as he planted his lips on the top of your hair, while saying something that caused your shoulders to shake even more.

“Weeks,” he says vaguely, not bothering to count the detailed specifics, not because Jake didn’t care, but because he didn’t need to with you - not when he was sure you were his forever. He had expressed outrightly that you were his girl - because even when you hadn’t been, you had somehow, always been his in one way or another - and Jake hadn’t asked you explicitly, the question of “will you be my girlfriend?”, but it hadn’t mattered to either of you; the question seemingly unimportant and trivial, when you both already just knew.

Grandma Doris observes grandson from her perch across the table, the light in his eyes that she had always saw when he looked at you had finally come to the front, and it was dazzling. She places down her teacup, fingers of her right hand working to slide the ring she had the fourth finger of her right hand off. It was the simplest of the rings which adorned her fingers, a plain band, holding a single jewel, with the words “timeless” scratched onto the inside of the band, the engraving now dulled from years of wear, but still visible. She places it on the table in front of Jake, who looks down at it, and up again at his grandmother in surprise. He had never seen her take it off since he could remember.

“Give it to her,” she says simply, the implication behind her words clear - marry her. To anyone else, it might have been strange, but grandma Doris understood, it was Jake and you - she had watched quietly, as you both danced around each other for years. “There isn’t any reason to wait when you’ve already known something your whole life.” She say simply.

Jake picks up the ring, flipping it in his fingers, running the pad of his thumb over the engraving on the inner band, before reaching into the shirt of his uniform, tugging out the chain with his dog tags, before undoing it and stringing the ring on.

-

“Well, this is me,” Jake bends down and kisses Grace’s cheek while engulfing her in a hug.

“Come back home soon,” Grace orders and Jake raises a hand to his head to giver her a mini salute.

“Yes M’am.”

“Everyone misses you,” his grandmother says as Jake bends in turn to hug her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Your grandfather and father miss you.” His mother says, and Jake meets her gaze in understanding with a small tip of his chin.

Jake stands back, with a last wave, watching as his mother and grandmother enter the car, before the driver shuts the door.

-

Tash: Your man is an idiot.

You swipe open the message from Phoenix to come face to face with a picture of Jake and Rooster’s side view, each man decked out in their flight suit, sunglasses on their face, middle fingers flipped up at each other. It makes you roll your eyes as you shoot back a text.

Is Bradley an idiot as well?

She replies almost instantly.

Tash: The biggest.

You grin, shooting back a reply.

Lies. By the way, do you know what time you’ll be done? My idiot needs a pick up.

Tash: Come now, I’ll get Mav to abuse his “power” and sign you in.

-

“I’m not betting those 200 push ups today,” Fanboy’s voice crackles over the comms as the three planes, him and Payback, Mav and Jake push through the air. It was the last scheduled flight of the day, not entirely necessary because there weren’t any trainees scheduled into the slot, but it hadn’t stopped the four men from jumping into the plans to run the same training simulation of the day. Mav’s time old favourite, dogfighting - two against one.

It earns a laugh from Mav, and Jake snorts.

“C’mon boys, wussing out?” Jake drawls over his comms as he levels his jet with Fanboy and Payback, grinning out the window towards the two. It earns him double middle fingers from the duo.

“I’m not letting you hang us out to dry, Hangman.” Payback says disgruntled. It was undeniable that Jake had proven himself to be a team player from the uranium mission, but it didn’t change the fact that Hangman, being Hangman, still enjoyed blazing his own trail, particularly during simulations such as this where a run was just a run, and nothing was at stake. He would have them eating his dust whenever he could.

“How about a beer instead boys?” Mav asks, grinning lazily out of the window of his jet.

“I could live with that,” Payback jumps and latches onto the lower stakes, before clarifying the safety of his own wallet, “just among us four.”

“Game on,” Jake hooks his mask to his face.

-

True to her word, and you are not entirely sure how, Phoenix gets you signed into TOPGUN, meeting you at the guard house, and jumping into your car, directing you onward. She ends up leading you towards the control room, which she informs you, is filled with themselves and the trainee group today due to the afternoon long simulation flights they had been running. She scans her pass against the electronic lock and holds open the door for you while gesturing you in. You slip into the control room ducking your way past a few trainees, to come to a stand beside Hondo, who is flanked on his other side by Rooster and Bob.

“What did I miss?” Pheonix asks, and Hondo points towards the screen.

“They just bet Mav a round of beers if they beat him.”

“Do we all benefit?” Phoenix asks, hopefully.

“Payback made it very clear that it’s just between them.” Hondo grins, and it earns a dismissive snort from Phoenix

You can’t see the Naval Aviators up in the air, apart from the diagrams of little jets beeping on the radar alongside a counter, and a whole host of numbers you don’t understand; but you can hear them over the speakers in the control room, the sounds of breathing, and chatter.

“Where is he?” Payback asks.

“I can’t see him,” Fanboy.

“Probably hiding beneath us,” you hear Jake, “old man never changes his tactics.” He says, a jab at Mav, and the tone of his voice, makes you shake your head slightly; even you knew, to someone who didn’t know any better or who wasn’t used to him, Jake could very well rub people he didn’t know well the wrong way with his words.

You hear a set of three yells and curses, as Mav’s diagram reappears on radar, a set of numbers alongside the screen rapidly jumping as Mav angles his jet to shoot up between the other two.

“And yet, this old man’s tactics work every time.”

It earns a fist pump from Hondo, and you lean over towards the older man.

“Does he truly do that every time?”

“Works like a charm,” Hondo says, leaning back over to you simultaneously, headset still nestled in his ear, with a nod of his head.

“And they don’t learn?” You ask in slight disbelief at the fact that some of the best Naval Aviators in the country would fall for the same trick more than once.

“Kids,” Hondo laughs with a shrug and a waggle of his brows, and it makes you laugh out loud as you think back to a scene where you had been sitting with the lot, after dinner, watching them argue over which superhero, as portrayed in the movies, would come out on top, because you couldn’t agree more.

-

Jake hears it, clear as day, as he rights his jet, holding back on the acceleration into the planned tactic he was going to go into, even though it was just a soft crackle over the background his comms. He thought he had been dreaming that he had heard your voice, until the point he heard your laugh - he would recognise that laugh anywhere - your laugh.

“Babe?” He says into his comms, and it has Payback and Fanboy looking at each other within the confines of their plane, Mav looking out of the window from above, down towards Jake’s jet, the men all holding in the air, surprised at the sudden call from Jake. All heads in the control room swivel towards you.

Hondo slips the headset off his ear and passes it to you, nodding for you to take it, and you do, slipping it onto your own ear, taking a step forward, closer to the screen even though you can’t see him.

“Jake?” You say, your eyes focused on the mini green outline of his jet on the screen, his call sign flickering beside it.

“Yeah babe?” Jake says again, louder, more sure this time, his face breaking into a wide grin beneath his mask. In that moment, Jake feels like he is at the top of the world, despite having just been spun around in the air by the force of Mav’s jet - he is seated in a jet high above the ground, doing something he had willingly devoted his life to, with your voice in his ear at real-time, knowing that you were watching him.

“Give him hell.” You say, and you hear a roaring laugh of response through the headset in your ear, loud, open, unadulterated, genuine, every note of it being entirely Jake. It is familiar to you, but the heads moving back and forth in the room, eyes coated in surprise, tells you that it isn’t for everyone.

“For you darlin? Anything.”

It earns a whoop from Coyote who is standing to the right of the control room. Jake, who is up in the air grips his center stick, wide grin still on his face. He can feel the ring, dangling from the chain beside his dog tags, a cool circle pressed against his chest. He takes a deep breath.

“Alright boys, hope you’re ready, because Hangman’s coming.”

-

“Tone!” It is a span of mere minutes, where you hear a mix of shouts, grunts and yells coming from the four men in the air, before you hear a loud prolonged beeping sound, and Jake’s voice crackle over the comms, shouting out the single word with a whoop. It earns wide eyes from around the room, and approving nod from Hondo who is behind you, a “yes” from Coyote and a clap from Bob.

“Fucking Hangman,” is what you hear Rooster murmur from behind, clearly impressed.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Tash mumbles as she walks up to you, before clapping her hand on your shoulder. She knew Jake was good, heck - everyone knew, despite having only been selected as Dagger Spare for the uranium mission, he was the only one among them (not counting Mav) who had a count of two confirmed air combat kills, but to get tone on Mav, something none of them had yet to be able to achieve - now that, was impressive.

“Can we get her in the room everytime he flies?” You hear Cyclone mumble to Warlock from his position in the centre of the room, arms still crossed over his chest, eyes fixed on the green on screen.

It makes you smile.

-

You make your way down along with the rest of the group, the only civilian amongst the group of Naval Aviators, hanging to a side with Coyote, Bob, Rooster and Phoenix as the jets grind to a slow stop and into a park. You can hear the chatter of the trainees, standing around as you watch while the top of Jake’s jet pops open, before he hoists himself out of the seat, stepping onto the wing to hop down onto the ground.

Jake yanks his helmet off his head, and you see him, grinning widely, from ear to ear, his hair sticking up, a sheen of sweat across his forehead, in his element, euphoria unmatched. It’s infectious and you feel your face break out into a matching grin, as Jake begins striding directly to you, helmet in his hand. He moves like a man with a mission, focused entirely on you, and the smattering of trainees move to a side as he approaches, it being clear that he has no intention to stop for anyone in his way.

You see him unzip the top of his flight suit, and reach beneath the black shirt he has on underneath, fingers pulling his dog tags out before he tugs them over his head.

“Jake?” He is three steps away from you, and the group behind you has involuntarily taken a step back, not sure of where this is going, allowing you both your space, and then, it happens.

Jake drops his helmet to the ground, the object rolling an inch away before it settles on his side. You are forced to look down as Jake drops a knee to the ground. He leans his elbow on his other knee, which is bended, propped up by a boot that is pressed flat to the ground, and raises his hand towards you, fingers holding out a ring, still hanging from the chain of his dog tags, with a single jewel as the centrepiece towards you. You recognised the ring at once, having seen it as a permanent fixture on grandma Doris’ finger.

“Jake what are yo-” You start to say, but he cuts you off, answering your question at the same time.

“Marry me.” He says, a statement, not quite an ask as his eyes search yours, a smile, genuine, excited, earnest on his face. “Marry me, because I don’t want to have to spend another day not being able to call you mine.”

It’s a big ask, after only weeks, you both jumping the step where he had even asked you (officially) to be his girlfriend, but this was Jake, the man you knew better than anyone else; the man who you understood, and who understood you, without having to even use words; the man who you would do anything for, and who would do anything for you; the man you had spent the past few weeks finally getting it right with; the man you would say yes to in a heartbeat.

You search his face, his eyes now fixed on you, watching as you take it in, take him in. Jake has never been so goddamn sure of anything in his life. He had been sure the moment his grandmother had slipped the ring onto the table; sure from the moment he had kissed you at Annie’s wedding; sure from the moment he had asked you to come out to San Diego for 6 months; perhaps even sure from way before; but hearing your voice over comms, just your voice, pulling together his focus, grounding him, both literally and figuratively propelling him to greater heights, made him realise that he had already taken too goddamn long to do this, and that he would be a fool to wait even a second longer.

“I’m already yours.” You breathe out, pushing out the breath of air you hadn’t even been aware you were holding. It is enough for him, and Jake reaches forward to tug your hand towards him before he slips the ring on. It fits your finger like a glove, his dog tags still dangling from the other end of the chain still attached to the ring, like a part of him to you. He stands, holding your hand in his, pulling you close so that your body is flush against his. Jake smells of jet fuel, sweat and soap. He reaches up with his other hand, to cup your jaw in his palm, a thumb running over your cheekbone.

“Jake?” You say, softly, as he leans in an inch.

“Yeah.” It makes him stop, face slightly apart from yours, but so close that you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours, and the warmth of his breath on your skin.

“I love you.” You say out loud for the first time, and you see the wide smile break across his face as he presses his lips to yours. You love him, you’ve loved him, just as he love and has loved you.

“I know baby.” Is what Jake says first against your lips, in true Jake Seresin fashion and you can still feel his smile, as he finally says, “I love you too.”

You hear the thunderous sound of cheers in the background, the loudest coming from the group of Naval Aviators you had come to know and love. A plane flies past, roaring overhead in the sky, and you kiss Jake back, one of your hands still gripping his, the other on the back of his head, feeling the damp roots of sweat in his hair, pulling him into you. You feel like your heart is soaring, your flyboy in your arms.

>> EPILOGUE

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra @imagineyneyjr @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ive-got-more-wit @fuzzy-panda @helloimhereforabit @meowimakellysaurusrex @t-rexs @iangiemae @shawnsthighs @cxit-writes @shanimallina87 @dempy @mell-bell @saynotononsense @justsplendidd @dont-talk-me-down @the-cranck-hobbit @blindedbyyourgrace17 @fandom-life-12 @bxwitched @indynerdgirl @hope-love-equality2 @fangirlofallthings22 @alistocats @callsign-marlie @bellamy1998 @slayry @bladed-planes @turningtoclown @double-j @shanimallina87 @chiffondaydreams @capswife @averyhotchner @unordinare @smokey102 @tallrock35

[heavyhitterheaux]

Cold Water

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: best friends should always be honest with each other

Synopsis: You and your best friend are at odds when you learn that he kept his new girlfriend a secret from you on purpose

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: @fallon-carrington123 (I incorporated the first part of your request. Part 2 is where I’ll add the rest!)

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Read My Superstar first 

It had been maybe a week or so since you learned the news of Urban having a girlfriend for two months over an instagram post. Safe to say that you were hurt because he didn’t tell you and it didn’t seem as if he was going to mention it until he got caught.

You and Urban have been close since the time the two of you were 14 when you both met and you simply shared everything with him. Even if it had to do with your beloved husband.

You know had a three week break from tour and you were back at home with Jack and Urban. However, the tension in the house was at an all time high because you had been giving Urban the silent treatment. The rest of PG were also there and you were all sitting around having a movie marathon and eating some homemade pizza that you had made for them.

PG didn’t want to say anything regarding you and Urban and figured that the two of you would work it out yourselves.

You two literally couldn’t live without the other so they knew you would make up soon.

You got up to go into the kitchen to refill your lemonade when Urban walked in to confront you.

He was over you ignoring him and wanted to fix this or at least attempt to.

“This shit stops right now. We need to talk about this.” You heard him say from behind you as you were finishing pouring the lemonade in your cup. You rolled your eyes before turning around to look at him.

“You lied to me! We have been friends for ten years! I have never lied to you about anything or kept something from you because guess what? You’re my best friend and best friends don’t do that!”

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you? Honestly?”

“I’m all ears, Wyatt. The fact that you told the rest of them before me and they met her? You even told Neelam before me! Like what the actual fuck?”

“BECAUSE YOU HAVE LITERALLY RUINED EVERY SINGLE RELATIONSHIP THAT I’VE BEEN IN!”

“What?!? No, I haven't Urban! That is complete bullshit!”

“You sure about that? Let me pull the receipts.”

“Is it my fault that no one that you’ve dated has been good enough for you!? My best friend deserves the best!”

“How can I find that if you keep running them off?!”

“Urban, Jessica was rude as hell every time we went out and didn’t give two shits about her attitude. The way she would speak to people was insane.”

“Damn, sounds like you’re talking about yourself. I’m going to need for you to stop being a hypocrite.”

“Urb! I am not rude! I never have been!”

“But your attitude could use some work! You never see the fault in what you do! EVER!”

“THAT IS NOT TRUE! What about Reina?! She dated you only to become closer to Jack and I don’t know why that was her goal simply because he’s married to me! She wasn’t thinking about you! She did not have your best interest!”

“But you didn’t have to fight her either! Let’s not forget the girls you ran off because of how you act and the fact that they didn’t get your approval! It’s like they see how you are and run for the hills!”

“You’re my best friend and I am always going to protect you!”

“You can do that without constantly being on my ass all the time, Y/N! Like damn let me breathe! Last time I checked I was a grown ass man who could take care of himself!”

“But….”

And that’s when the tears started to fall.

Meanwhile PG was standing to the side of the doorway out of both of your line of vision  listening to the heated exchange happening between you and Urban.

“Uhh, Jack? Maybe you should intervene.” 2fo said while looking over at him.

“Absolutely not. They need to work this out themselves. I can’t always run and save the day every time she has a disagreement with someone. She’s an adult. Now if anything disrespectful was said that’s a different story.”

“But, Urb is kinda making some valid points. She is very protective of all of us but especially him.” Shloob confessed with car keys in hand just in case he had to make a quick exit.

“True, like sometimes I don’t say certain things around her because I don’t know how she’s going to react.”

“We all know that she doesn’t tolerate bullshit and only wants the best for us.”

“Yeah, but like Urb said she has to let us breathe and not be on our backs all the time.”

“Urban! Why can’t you see how much I care about you?!”

“I do and I’m going to need for you to stop crying because you are always playing the victim and I’m tired of it. Any time someone says something you don’t like or they’re telling you about yourself you get upset and cry. Grow the fuck up. Don’t you think I eventually want what you and Jack have? How am I supposed to do that if you literally run off every girl that I show interest in?”

All you did was simply look at him speechless with tears rolling down your face.

Your intentions were always pure when it came to Urban or anybody in PG who had gotten a girlfriend. You wanted for them to be on the same level as them and not settle for less.

Your feelings were hurt to think that Urban believed that you would intentionally do that to him.

All you wanted was to see your best friend happy. 

“Then I’m sorry for caring and loving my best friend and wanting for him to have what he deserves. You won’t have to worry about me doing that anymore.”

“Wait, Y/N….”

Urban tried to catch your hand as you walked past him but you quickly snatched away from him. PG scrambled to go back to their places on the couches in the living room but you knew that they had been listening.

Jack saw your face full of tears and was now kind of annoyed with Urban for making you cry even if he had been right.

“Baby…”

“I.. just need a minute.”

You went upstairs and simply laid down and cried at what just happened.

The two of you had never argued or gotten into disagreements the entire ten years that you had been friends.

This hurt and it was never your intention to keep Urban from finding someone to be with.

But if he felt that you weren't doing any good by hovering over him, consider it done.

You just wanted to make sure that it was someone who wanted Urban for him and not anything else. 

Why couldn’t he understand that?

It had been about another week or so since the huge blow up between you and Urban and it was safe to say that the silent treatment was continuing. 

Well you couldn’t exactly call it that seeing as if he asked you something, you did answer him but simply left it at that.

To avoid all of this Urban had been spending more time with Yasmin who you still had yet to meet.

You figured it would happen eventually, but you weren't in any rush since he told you that you had ruined every relationship that he had been in previously so you continued to keep your distance.

It was around 11 am when PG decided that they wanted to go play laser tag and wanted for you to join them.

“Y/N, I need you on my team because you're little and you can hide and do sneak attacks.” Ace said but you kept a neutral face.

“No, I’m already doing something.”

“Wait, what? You’ve been dodging us all week! Come with us!”

"If I wasn't already doing something, I would."

"Well if we get dinner later are you coming?"

You simply shrugged.

"If I get finished maybe but I don't know." You honestly answered before going back upstairs and getting ready to meet Megan in the studio.

You had written a song for her to put on her new album and wanted to record it today in the hopes of getting your mind off everything else.

Once you were out of earshot everyone turned towards Urban.

"Will you two make up already!? And you can tell she's upset!"

"I tried to explain why I did it but of course she doesn't see anything wrong in what she did."

"Urb, you know how she is. You more so than anyone else besides Jack."

"Just because I know how she is doesn't make it right. She's upset because I told her the truth and I also kind of told her to back off a little bit and stop hovering."

"Well damn. That's why she hasn't wanted to go out with us."

"I meant to stop hovering around me when it came to relationships, not hanging out with us in general."

You knew it would be awkward with both you and Urban there and you didn't want to add more fuel to the fire.

"Jack, fix this! I miss her cooking for all of us. Now she's all sad and shit and making us eat take out. I swear that I can’t eat another egg roll."

"It's not my problem to fix. It's between them. Urb does the same thing when me and her have disagreements. He remains neutral and that’s what I’m doing."

"Now you know how stubborn your wife is, she is not going to apologize first."

"I think that the both of you need to apologize. You for keeping Yasmin from her and she does too for running the girlfriends off in the past even if her intentions behind it were good.." Jack said being completely honest.

"But why am I apologizing if I'm not sorry? I guarantee that if I would have told her about Yasmin that we wouldn’t still be together because of how she is."

"Urb, just do it so we can get fed! We're about to turn to skin and bones around here!"

"Shloob, you're just scared that she'll pop off."

"Well she has been quiet all week. Maybe she's plotting something. First Lady is never quiet. Jack, just make sure you give the eulogy at Urb's funeral."

Jack took the steps two at a time to go and check on you. It definitely made him feel some type of way seeing his wife so sad, so he was trying to do his best to take your mind off of it. But, he knew the two of you couldn’t live without each other even if both of you were acting like dumbasses and not trying to fix the issue.

He found you sitting on the bed and scrolling through your phone with your shoes near you assuming that you were getting ready to leave.

"Babe?"

"Yes?"

"Now you know I'm staying neutral because the last thing I want to do is come between you two and pick sides but the two of you really need to fix this."

"I'm doing what he asked me to do. So I'm keeping my distance."

"That's not what he meant and you know it." Jack replied while coming to sit down next to you and pull you onto his lap.

"Well that's what it sounded like to me. Because apparently I ruin everything and run people off."

"Baby girl. I get that you're in your feelings because he kept it from you. However, he has a point as to why."

"Not you too." You muttered while rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

"I wouldn't be a good husband if I wasn't honest with my wife."

"I just… from what I saw from my perspective, none of them had his best interest and obviously in my mind I don't think anyone is good enough for my best friend. What's wrong with wanting to protect him from getting his heart broken?"

"Nothing at all but sometimes people need to learn on their own. You have to allow him to make mistakes. I feel like we're talking about our kid in a way." Jack said before laughing and it made you form a small smile on your face.

“That’s why I’m keeping my distance.”

“No, you need to find a good balance. This is such a thing as caring too much and you kind of take it overboard when it comes to Urban.”

“I just…. It really hurt what he said.”

“But there wasn’t any ill intent behind it, baby girl. Urban is hurt too. Don’t you think he wanted you to be the first person he told about Yasmin?”

“I thought he would do that regardless but, I… I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.”

“Baby, just think about it from his point of view, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“Now where are you off to? You need to stop avoiding us.”

“I’m not avoiding anybody. I’m about to go spend time with Meg in the studio. I wrote something for her and we want to record it.”

“Fine, but this weekend you’re spending time with us too. I invited Yasmin over to formally meet you.”

“No thanks, I’m busy.”

“Baby! Stop doing that. Will you at least try for Urban?”

“Nope.”

“Okay, fine. Try for me.”

“Maybe.”

“You didn’t say no so I’ll take it.”

You and Megan had just finished recording Budget and the two of you were just sitting around talking when the topic of Urban and Yasmin was brought up.

“Have you met her yet?”

“Nope and apparently I am this weekend because that husband of mine invited her over. I just can’t believe he literally lied to my face.”

“Well…. You kind of take it to the extreme when it comes to PG.”

“How so?”

“You are extremely protective and territorial over them. I know that they say no one gets to the first lady except through them but no one gets to the members of PG without going through the first lady. It goes both ways.”

“They’re my friends! I obviously want to protect them as much as I can!”

“Okay, you can do that without being a helicopter mom. Because that is definitely you.”

“I am not!”

“Listen to me for a second. I have heard a few of them say that certain things they don’t say in front of you because they don’t know how you’re going to react and they do keep things from you to not cause tension.”

“That makes me feel like I’m a horrible person. I want them to always be able to come to me about things and not have to hide.”

“You aren’t. You just have to allow yourself to have an open mind when it comes to things. I’m sure that they want to share a lot of things with you but they don’t because of your uhh… track record.”

“The only time I fight is if I have a good reason.”

“And I wholeheartedly believe you! However, there’s a time and place for everything so come whenever you meet her, go in there with an open mind and talk to Urban. Because even though you’re hurting, he probably is too.”

“Jack said the same thing.”

“It’ll all work out in the end, I promise. It’ll be like this entire thing never even happened.”

The weekend was now finally here and as promised for Jack and for Jack only you were playing host to Yasmin.

Everyone was sitting around the firepit in the backyard holding simple conversations and getting to know her while you had simply remained quiet.

You had a feeling that anything you said was going to piss Urban off so instead of causing tension, you decided that remaining quiet was the best option. 

There you were sitting on Jack’s lap and sipping on your red wine when you suddenly heard Yasmin call out to you.

“Hmm?”

“That pasta you made was really good. How’d you learn to cook so well? Did your mom or someone else teach you?”

“My mom did.” You kept your answer simple and noticed how Urban had rolled his eyes at your response, but you ignored it.

“Is there any dish that’s your favorite to make? Or only make on special occasions?”

“I don’t really have one. Anything they ask for, I make it.”

“Yasmin, wait until you try her mini strawberry cheesecakes or her sweet potato pies. We all have a running joke that she puts crack in it to keep us wanting more.” Shloob said while everyone laughed.

“I’m definitely looking forward to it.”

“I have a question for you, too.”

“Oh shit, it’s happening.” Quiiso whispered under his breath and everyone kind of looked on with wide eyes.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“What exactly is your job? No one has mentioned it seeing as I didn’t even know you existed until three weeks ago.”

“Oh, I’m a makeup artist. Still fairly new to the industry but I think the favorite person I’ve done work on is Dua Lipa. I know that the two of you are pretty close.”

“A little too close in my opinion.” Jack whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

“Hmm, how’d you meet Urban?”

“We actually ran into each other backstage at the VMA’s and then it just went from there.”

“What are your intentions? Is he your first boyfriend or no?”

“Y/N….” Urban said in a warning tone and you simply looked at him.

“Urb, you wanted me to get to know her right? And wanted for me to not ruin this seeing as you told me that I ruin every single relationship that you’ve been in so I’m doing my best.”

“Wait, what?” Yasmin curiously asked while looking between all of you and you heard Jack sigh from behind you.

“You can do your best without interrogating her, just like you did all the other ones before.” Urban replied while raising his voice.

“I’ve barely said anything to her all night! How am I supposed to get to know her if I don’t ask questions?”

“I really don’t mind answering them…” Yasmin said attempting to try and keep the peace since you and Urban were shooting daggers at each other.

“Should have known your ass was going to do this.”

“I didn’t even do anything!”

“Yet!”

“Fine, Urban, if you are so bothered by me wanting the best for you then I don’t know why we’re still friends.”

“Now wait one got damn minute. Yall are not throwing away ten years of friendship over this. It is not that serious. Can the two of you just apologize and move on?” 2fo piped up and suddenly looked nervous.

“I’m not apologizing for something that I’m not sorry for.”

Damn that stung. 

“Well he told me I ruin everything concerning his relationships and that I’m a hypocrite because I mentioned one of those girlfriends having an attitude and he said mine could use some work.”

“Uhhh… well…”

“SHLOOB!”

“I mean…. That wasn’t totally a lie.”

“Are we seriously doing this right now? So everyone can list my faults but yall are perfect?”

“No one even said that and that’s what your problem is! You never listen when someone is trying to explain something to you and act like the victim!” Urban fired back at you and you could now tell that Yasmin was extremely uncomfortable.

“Will you two calm down?!” Jack exclaimed as his two best friends were going at it. As much as he didn’t want to intervene, this was getting out of hand. 

“I’m not acting like a victim!

“Umm right now you kind of are.” Ace confessed and you just stared at all of them in disbelief. 

“We’re your friends and we are supposed to be honest with you, no matter if it hurts. It’s better we tell you than to lie.”

“Oh, but you all did lie. In ten years, I have kept nothing from any of you and this was really a slap in my face but since I always act like the victim, I won’t say anymore about it. Yasmin, you seem really nice and I wish you and Urban the best. I have a headache so good night.”

Jack tried to pull you back as you attempted to stand up, but he wasn’t quick enough.

You made your way back into the house as it was now silent in the backyard.

“Well consider that our last meal from her probably until 2025. If she wasn’t acting distant before, she damn sure will be distant now.” Nemo said, breaking the silence.

“Jack, is this how it feels when she’s mad at you? Because I don’t really like this.” 2fo confessed.

“Somehow this feels worse.”

Just then Jack eyed Urban who was simply running a hand through his curls while Yasmin was sitting there awkwardly.

“All this shit could have been avoided if you would have told her.”

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[frostedfaves]

Stay the Night

Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and Wanda came to Westview for a fresh start, but meeting someone new brings back old habits.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, magical mental manipulation (courtesy of Wanda), a bit of forced submission, implied masturbation and sex toy mention, other insinuated things (no questions please 🤠), kidnapping and blood mention, WandaVision AU that completely disregards Endgame to give WandaNat a real happy ending

A/N: it’s been literal months since the last time I posted anything, but I was determined to at least get this first part out eventually even if I only had 3 followers left. no idea what I’m doing going forward because so much has changed with me that I’m not even sure what I want to write, I just know I want to. anyway here’s the ask that inspired this

-

“Where are you headed, love?”

Wanda stops with her hand on the doorknob, the other gripping the handle of a can of paint with a brush resting on top. She carefully turns so as not to drop the unsecured item and acknowledges her wife from across the room.

“I’m going to fix the paint I chipped, Natalia.”

“You mean you aren’t going to wave your magic wand this time?” Natasha’s eyes are narrowed but her playful smile gives her away. “I never knew you were such a handywoman.”

“As if you’re so surprised about what my hands can do.”

The front door is closed behind Wanda, muffling whatever comeback Natasha was beginning to make, and she makes her way over to the corner of the house that didn’t match the rest. With careful strokes, the damaged area is covered in a brilliant shade of red, glistening in the sun as it begins to dry. She’s just about to head in when she hears a voice she doesn’t recognize followed by her neighbor’s door slamming closed and footsteps. Wandering across the lawn to get a better look, she notices a young woman sitting on the porch wearing shorts that are very similar to her overalls and a loose T-shirt with extra fabric that gets trapped between her stomach and thigh when she bends over to fix her shoe.

“Hey.”

You look up from your seat on the porch and notice a woman with reddish-orange hair studying you with hands slightly stained red resting on the fence. Her eyes glance between you and her hands and she quickly catches on, removing them with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Sorry, I’m an artist…if you count repairing a scuffed wall as art.”

“Let’s see.” You stand and look over at the spot she was working on. “Yeah, I’d pay to see it in a museum.”

Her laugh causes you to grin as you approach her from the other side of the fence, placing your own hands just an inch or two from where hers used to be as you introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Wanda.” She makes a movement to shake your hand and quickly changes her mind when she catches sight of her own again. “I’m not usually this forgetful, dear. Anyway, I was wondering if you were new to the neighborhood. I’ve never seen you here before.”

“Technically, although I don’t live here. My friend just moved in and I thought I’d visit her now that she’s all set.” You lean in just a bit closer and slightly lower your voice. “She wouldn’t even let me take off work until she had every room unpacked and organized. I made a joke that she wanted to set up her sex dungeon first so I wouldn’t accidentally find any of her tools and she didn’t like it very much.”

“She probably shouldn’t come to our house then,” Wanda teases but your brows raise slightly.

“Our?”

“Yes, I live with my wife. Actually, we haven’t met your friend either. Would the two of you like to come over for dinner later? We’d love to welcome her to the neighborhood properly.”

“I think I can talk her into it.” You turn toward the house when you hear your name called through a cracked window and quickly face Wanda again. “I have to go but I’ll–we’ll–see you tonight?”

“Anytime after 7 works for us. I might go a bit overboard but I promise it won’t be anything fancy. You could even wear pajamas if you want,” she offers and you laugh.

“Be careful or I might take you up on that. Okay, see you then!” You disappear into the house again with an enthusiastic wave as Wanda supervises before heading into her own home to share the news with her loving partner.

“So you invited this anonymous new neighbor and her friend over for dinner…tonight?” Natasha repeats and Wanda nods in response. “May I ask why you suddenly want two strangers in our home?”

“One of the strangers is really cute,” Wanda pouts as she grabs Natasha’s hands, allowing herself to be led over to the sink to have the paint washed off her skin.

“Meaning?”

“New pet,” she admits, growing nervous when Natasha freezes mid scrub.

“No.”

“But Nat–”

“Don’t ‘but Nat’ me, Wanda,” the redhead mocks as she continues scrubbing. “I let you try this already and it didn’t work.”

“I think you’ll like her too.”

“I doubt it.”

“But what if she’s really good? Really obedient? I heard you like that.”

“How can you be so sure? I’ve never experienced it.”

“Rude.” Wanda lightly nudges her away with her hip and reaches for the paper towels. “I’m just saying…don’t let one bad apple ruin the bunch or whatever that saying is. Don’t you think it’d be fun to have something new to play with?”

“I’m assuming you’ve already given her a test run then.”

“Not yet.” Wanda returns to Natasha’s side with a paper towel for her hands and drops her head onto her shoulder. “I figured you might want to help me.”

-

You ring the doorbell at exactly 7:01, hoping Sheri will take your subtle but constant movements as nerves and not excitement to see Wanda again. You had no idea what her wife was like or if she’d even like you, then again you barely knew Wanda either. What you were hoping to get out of this gathering was also still a mystery.

“You’re here! Welcome to our home!” Wanda greets you cheerily as she opens the door and you go to respond with the same level of excitement, instead driving an elbow into Sheri’s side when you notice her staring at the older pair.

“Sorry…No one told me I was having dinner with two Avengers.”

“Technically we’re not Avengers anymore,” a woman replies behind Wanda and she steps aside to reveal her wife, you’re assuming. “Natasha, but I’m guessing you knew that already.”

“So why did you leave the team?” Sheri inquires as she follows Natasha to the dining room and Wanda closes the door behind her, and you don’t miss the way she subtly guides you for a second with a gentle hand on your back.

“I don’t know. Something about half the world disappearing for five years really just…”

“...wears you out?” Wanda suggests as she pulls your chair out for you and Natasha shakes her head.

“I was going to say it makes me want to isolate myself from everything and everyone I’ve ever known, but yes, that too.” She takes a seat and begins pouring wine into a glass. “I wanted to go a bit further than New Jersey, but I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed my time here.”

“Do you mind telling me more about this place?” you ask once Wanda is done serving everyone and takes a seat across from you. “If it sounds good, maybe I’ll move too.”

You were partially joking but something about Wanda’s eyes suddenly brightening and even Natasha’s sudden interest in your statement made you want to consider the possibility.

“What would you like to know?”

-

Two hours later, the room is filled with laughter in response to the latest joke passed around the table. Dinner was even more enjoyable than you imagined it could be, the four of you talking nonstop between bites of food. The atmosphere was so energetic that you were genuinely surprised when Sheri yawned and stood up suddenly.

“I just want to say that I’ve had so much fun over here and I’m so glad you were the first neighbors I met. I hope you won’t be mad if I head home now, though.”

“So soon?” you pout and she sighs.

“I know, but I’m exhausted from all the preparation I did before you came. You’re welcome to stay here though, if you both don’t mind,” she adds with a glance at the hosts, and they both grin.

“Of course we don’t mind!” Natasha speaks up before Wanda can, rising to a stance as well. “After all, we did promise her a movie night. Who says that can’t be tonight?”

“We’re also still in the process of convincing her to move,” Wanda adds.

“Okay, well…You know where the spare is but if you forget, my ringer will be on.”

You all exchange goodbyes with Sheri while Natasha walks her out, even making sure she’s inside before returning to the table. Wanda waves off your attempt to help her clear the table in the meantime and Natasha takes a seat next to you.

“So…how about that movie?”

“Sure! I just have to run to the bathroom and then we can start.”

“No, you can wait.” You raise your brows with a laugh that’s cut short when her hand on your thigh stops you from getting up. “If you think I’m joking, you’re wrong. You’ll go when we say so. Got it?”

After a couple seconds you silently nod. She clears her throat and you almost immediately realize what she wants from you.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.”

A shiver travels down your spine as her fingertips lightly drag across your thigh before she stands, offering the same hand to you which you accept instantly. She leads you into a different room with a couch sitting in front of a projector aimed at the only wall that’s completely empty. Wanda appears a minute later with glasses of water and a blanket that she spreads across your laps once she’s settled. After the projector is set up, each woman scoots closer and rests her head against her hand, elbows pressed into the couch behind you as the movie is played.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed since the movie started, but at some point you notice your bathroom need has become a little more urgent. One of your legs begins to bounce under the blanket and shortly after, Wanda grabs your chin and turns your head toward her, pushing the rim of a glass to your lips.

“Open,” she quietly commands and you obey, reluctantly swallowing the water she carefully pours in. “Good girl.”

The water only touches the halfway mark of the glass now but you feel twice as full. Your attention strays from the movie as your leg bounces even faster now, and you’re practically holding back whimpers with the effort of trying not to piss your pants on the couch. It’s almost to the point where you think that might be your only option when Natasha leans just a bit closer to whisper in your ear.

“Go. You have our permission.”

Wanda throws the blanket aside before you can try to unscramble your thoughts to figure out how to do so yourself, and you follow the path you remember Sheri taking earlier in the night down the hall to the bathroom. You finally sit down and let out a sigh of relief that turns into a gasp when you feel a bit of cum slipping out of you as well. This is a sudden development that you don’t think you have the time or clarity to explore.

Instead, you return to the couch to finish the movie, releasing a very real yawn as the credits roll that prompts the two older women to call it a night. Natasha begins to clean up as Wanda walks you home, that same guiding hand resting on your back the whole way there.

“Thank you so much for coming over tonight, lovely,” she speaks quietly in the still air of the night, a warm smile appearing under the porch light. “Promise to come back soon?”

“Of course,” you answer pretty quickly, surprising yourself. “Although I don’t want to just abandon Sheri. She’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“She’s welcome too, sweet girl. We loved her company as well.” Wanda squeezes your hand and places her palm on your cheek for just a moment, admiring the way you lean into her before she pulls away. “Now get inside and rest for me, please.”

“Okay, I will. Goodnight, Wanda.”

You grab the spare key from its hiding spot and let yourself in, locking the door behind you and watching through one of the front windows as Wanda makes her way back home. Sheri’s loud snores are easily heard over whatever show she fell asleep on, and you carefully close her bedroom door to muffle the sound a bit as you make your way to your room. After changing into something more suitable for bed and grabbing your favorite toy from your suitcase, you turn on your own TV and settle under the covers with thoughts of your temporary neighbors helping you get off.

“You were gone so long I thought you tucked her in for the night,” Natasha greets Wanda as she comes in, and she laughs.

“Not yet, but we’ll get there.” Wanda approaches Natasha slowly and places her hands on her shoulders, taking her time until she can lock their fingers together. “I’ve never known you to be jealous before.”

“Well I did want a bit more time with her but she can’t be rushed. You’re right; she seems very sweet and…obedient.”

“Does that mean we can keep her?” Wanda blinks rapidly with a little pout and cheers when Natasha nods. “You won’t regret it, I promise. We’re going to train her so well.”

“I’m guessing that means you already have a plan to get her to stay.”

-

The next morning, you head into the bathroom to shower and go through your whole routine while replaying last night in your head. You finally resurface once you’re fully dressed, genuinely surprised when Sheri isn’t plating breakfast or waiting with her car keys in hand to go pick something up.

“Sher-bear, you’re the early riser in our duo,” you tease as you head toward her bedroom. “And you’re always hungry in the morning so why aren’t you–”

You cut yourself off with a gasp as you open her door, met with the startling scene of glass covering her twisted bedsheets, knocked in from the broken window. What scares you even more is the couple of spots on the carpet stained with either smeared or drops of blood. You run back to your room and grab your phone to call the police, deciding you’ll feel safer doing so in the presence of two Avengers. You’re banging frantically on their front door in less than a minute, not caring how crazy you look with tears streaming down your cheeks and staining your sleeve as you attempt to wipe them away.

“Sweet girl, what’s going on?” Wanda immediately questions as she pulls you through the doorway, giving a quick look outside before locking the door behind you. “Are you alright? Where’s Sheri?”

“She’s gone,” you begin sobbing at the mention of your best friend’s name.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Natasha inquires while entering the room, placing her hands on your shoulders as Wanda rubs your back in an attempt to calm you. “What did you see?”

“I think someone broke in and kidnapped her. The window was smashed in and there was blood on the carpet and a few things knocked over too. I was going to call the police but I thought I should come here first in case someone was still there.”

“You did the right thing by coming to us, love.” Natasha walks out of the room for a second and returns with a gun in hand. “I’ll be right back. Don’t let anyone in while I’m gone.”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t come with you?” Wanda offers, though her arm is wrapped around your shoulders now.

“No, I’ll be fine. She needs protection here in case there is still a lingering threat.”

“Be careful.” Wanda locks the door behind her, adjusting her robe as she returns to you and you can’t help glancing once at her partially covered bare chest. “Come on, let’s get you some tea to calm your nerves a bit.”

Natasha hides her weapon until she’s inside Sheri’s home, approaching her bedroom and assessing it for a moment from the doorway before closing it up again. She pulls on a pair of gloves and unlocks the basement door, heading down the stairs and silently approaching the soundproofed room.

Sheri’s head is leaning back against the same wall that the chair she’s in is resting on, her arms and legs tied to it, eyes and ears covered and mouth gagged. Natasha quickly pours a glass of water and watches a pill dissolve into it before approaching Sheri. She carefully removes the gag and forces her jaw open with a gloved hand, using the water to muffle her panicked cries and shushing her when she chokes slightly.

“We’re gonna need you to stay quiet for just a little bit longer if this is going to work.”

[sugurugetos]

— what’s up guys 😭 i just wanted to share my own little two cents on some colouring trends i’ve seen lately (particularly for kpop gifs!) which includes really distorted pink/red hues for skintones or oversaturated yellows so maybe i could give some tips that also helped me in the past!!

and of course because i love to talk a lot — this is a very long and image heavy tutorial...

❓ why is it an issue? i think its a very clear given that whitewashing is wrong and problematic for a vast number of reasons (with a history steeped in colourism and racism) and how there’s no excuse for changing the skintone of a person-of-colour.

— but with that said i want to make it clear that this is not an accusatory post! i’m not jumping on any one content creator or tumblr user to call them racist or colourist or a bigot 😭 and i don’t want to accuse anyone of having bad intentions with their gifs or images that they post! i really just want this to be a helpful post for anyone who is struggling to colour their gifs properly and more of a learning step instead of a call-out! 

however pink-washing (i’m aware there is another definition for this term but i’m referring to washing out a skintone to make it red-pink) and yellow-washing are equally as wrong! and they are also easily avoidable!! 

in the past it was a commonly held (and incorrect) belief that european people (a term i’m going to use broadly for non-poc) had a ‘fair’ and ‘pink’ undertone to their skin [and it was an encouraged beauty standard to try and emulate that fair pale pink skin] while asian people (particularly east asian ethnicities) had ‘yellow’ skin (as seen in racist caricatures and a plethora of terrible and outdated race theories).

thus pink-washing and yellow-washing both embrace two extreme ends of the scale and it’s simply better and more respectful to try and maintain the skintone of the idol in your gifs! there are deeper contextual explanations of this if you would like to learn more!

❓ identifying pink/yellow gifs

let’s start with recognising what colouring is a no-go ❌ if you’re a gifmaker you’re probably fighting a battle on two fronts — against the whitewashing music shows and then the struggle to restore skin colour without turning the dial up so much that you’ve changed their entire skintone.

for this example below i found a kpop psd posted recently (in the past few months actually) and applied it to a basic bright-lighting sort of facecam. 

the original facecam has no heavy stage lighting (as stages can often have really strong red or pink lights that also darken the colours) so it’s an easy one to follow along with.

the gif on the left has only a basic curves layer while the gif on the right has the added kpop psd on it. it’s a very stark difference in jungwon’s skintone and i would definitely classify this as an unnatural skin tone.

following a selective colour layer (to subtly increase the warm tones of his skin) / a photo filter (to counter the pale blue sort of lighting) and a colour balance - we can end up with a product like this.

now of course, this is only a very simple sort of colouring. and everyone has different colouring styles so you can go bonkers with all the colour manipulation for the blues and greens and purples as you like!

but what if the stage is just naturally red? 

may i introduce you to the dreaded seventeen stages during face the sun era then 😭

as you can see there is already a very heavy sort of pink-red cast on his skin (that only gradually got worse as the stage started because of those damn lights and shadows 😭) but we can easily work around them!

so here’s our stage lighting with no adjustments 

and now even though we got rid of the pink-tone it’s been replaced with a very strong yellow. (you might think i’m exaggerating out here but there are unfortunately a mite too many gifs like this). jeonghan’s skin (not to mention the members in the back) have been dialled up to a wasp yellow.

and unfortunately (at least in my experiences) there have been quite a few of the below instances (especially for this stage) so ultimately it is all about finding the right balance between getting rid of the harsh, unsaturated lighting while also bringing back warmth to the skintone while ALSO not giving the idols a spray-tan.

❓ so what can i do?

well i’m glad you asked! let’s go back to the jeonghan example we just used. here’s the stage gif once more without any adjustments or layers.

now i’ll add a simple curves layer (to even out the general lighting) and we end up with this. it’s obviously much better. the red-brown cast has no become darker creating a greater contrast with jeonghan’s skintone versus his black and white outfit! it’s a nicer gif overall but i want to bring out his skintone ever so slightly to make up for the harsh white lights on the highlights of his face.

i added another selective colour layer (increasing the reds with the cyan slider and then the black slider while also pushing on the yellow slider as well) and a gradient map (fading from black to orange and set to soft light at a 20% opacity)! and this is my final result!

❓ tips and tricks

— colour balance is your best friend! if a gif seems too blue (and hence giving your subject a pale purple-red sort of look) bring back the slider to the yellow side. or vice versa. it often sorts out all the little hiccups that a curves layer might have provided. — create layer masks to compare skin colour. it’s always useful to just have a little circle where you can see the skintone before and afters! — don’t just rely on selective colour to bring colour back into skin. this is where i find that i often trip up to overcompensate for whitewashing. a gradient map works wonders if set at the right opacity and you can adjust the skin colours minutely afterwards! — this might seem like a reduntant theme but it’s more than okay to ask for help! even i’ve found that i struggle with colouring a gif right and it’s better to get two or three heads in the game than one 😭

there is no one method or psd that will automatically graces oneself with perfect and correct colouring but it’s a matter of practice and figuring out what methods works for you!

i’d take a look at these very helpful tutorials! how to colour east/south-east asian celebrities how to fix orange-washed characters

[starryblueeyesandstarryblueskies]

You’ve Got Me | J.A.

Pairing: Jackson Avery x Reader

Summary: After a shitty day, the last thing you want to do is schmooze hospital donors. Your best friend finds you hiding from the crowd and makes your night better like he always does.

This is based vaguely on the Rory/Tristan scene from Gilmore girls cuz it just felt like it fit jackson

A/N: I honestly really truly hate this, but I’ve been picking it apart for literally a month and rewriting and now I feel like I’ve just gotta post it 🤷🏻‍♀️ it’s also not proofread which is becoming the usual so I’m sorry

Warnings: none?

Word Count: 950 (she a short one)

-

Tonight was the annual fundraising gala for Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. You couldn’t stand these events. It always felt like you were being auctioned off like some prize calf, all the posturing and showing off your accomplishments while not-so-subtly begging donors to give you money. There was nothing you liked less than a night full of small talk while wearing a tight dress.

To make the night even worse, topping off your really shitty week of bad surgical outcomes and a lost patient, your boyfriend had picked an hour ago to dump you out of the blue. So now you have to go through the small talk and begging, sad and alone.

You had hoped to make a quiet entrance and head straight to the bar before you have to deal with any obnoxious patrons or drunk coworkers, but of course you have no such luck. Less than a minute after you step into the venue, you are cornered by two middle aged men pestering you with questions about your newest research.

When you finally extricate yourself from the pair of men after an hour of them asking condescending questions and trying to mansplain your own experiment back to you, you’re about ready to have a mental breakdown. Trying to keep your cool, you shake off the conversation and set back on the path to the bar.

You take a step towards the crowd of people and then stop again. It looks so overwhelming and you're already exhausted. Would they even really miss you if you left? Deciding to take at least a few minutes for yourself, you turn the other way. You wander down a hallway, finding a bottle of champagne on an abandoned tray. A quick look to make sure no one sees, and you swipe it before heading into a small quiet sitting room that’s just off the main area.

You slump onto the floor, kicking off your shoes and taking a sip of champagne. It feels like the longest day of your life and you’re just happy to finally have a moment of peace. You listen to the music flowing quietly through the wall and lean your head back, taking a moment to process the events of the day. Lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice someone has joined you until they speak up.

“Hey, you okay?” Jackson takes a seat next to you, concern filling his green eyes.

You give your best friend a small smile. “I’m alright, long day. I’m sorry for bailing out of the party. I just got a little overwhelmed.” You give him an apologetic look. Jackson has been working so hard on this fundraiser for weeks and you know it's been taking a toll on him. You don’t want him to feel like you don’t care.

He just shakes his head. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize, I get it. It was starting to be a bit much for me too.”

You pass him the champagne bottle and he gratefully accepts, taking a sip. “I know I was born into this life, but god is it miserable,” he jokes.

You laugh. “I don’t know how you do it, honestly. I was here for all of five minutes before I gave up and came to hide.”

The two of you joke and chat for a while longer, passing the champagne bottle between you until it’s empty.

“Hey, where’s your boyfriend? I thought he was coming with you. Is he out there looking for you?”

You shake your head looking at the ground before muttering, “He’s not my boyfriend anymore.”

“Why not?” Jackson questions.

“Didn’t want to be.” You shrug.

“Idiot,” he laughs. You just give him a look. “I’m serious, Y/N. He just lost the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“I don't know about that, he seemed pretty happy to end it.” You shrug. “It’s fine. If I’m being honest with myself, the relationship had been falling apart for a long time. It just sucks that it had to happen this week.” Jackson nods. “Plus I had to come to this all by myself! You know how much I hate that!”

He laughs. “Yes, I do.”

You lean your head on his shoulder with a heavy sigh. Jackson has always been your rock, through thick and thin. You’re grateful he came looking for you tonight. His presence having eased your anxiety.

“At least I’ve got you,” you tell Jackson affectionately.

His body shifts towards you and you lift your head to face him. A look passes between the two of you that you can’t quite read.

“You’ve always got me, Y/N. I’m your person.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at the intimacy of this moment. You feel as though you should look away, or say something, anything, but nothing comes out. You can’t think of anything but his soft green eyes on yours and the small smile on his lips.

And then, his lips are on yours, soft and gentle. His hand moves to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. Your head feels fuzzy and all you can focus on is Jackson, feeling his warmth in every inch of your body.

The kiss is everything you dreamed of and nothing you could have imagined all at once. It conveys every emotion the two of you have been holding inside for so long. The trust, friendship, longing, and love all mixed up together.

By the time you pull away, you believe his words with every fiber of your being. Jackson Avery is your person and he always will be.

-

Writing masterlist

[chaosmagicss]

love in the dark (wanda maximoff x reader)

synopsis: your plan is simple; get through your senior year and make it to college with minimal fuss. what you aren't expecting is the spanner in the works that is wanda maximoff and her stupidly kissable lips.

series warnings: high school au (everyone is 18), secret relationship, jealousy, allusions to and brief mentions of smut, fluff, angst

chapter warnings: post-breakup sadness, very very brief smut (like, two sentences), alcohol

words: 4.7k

a/n: PHEW! my god, sorry this is so freaking late, but here!! the last chapter!!! i just wanna say thanks SO MUCH for all the support on this lil series, i really really appreciate it, truly. and while this is the last proper chapter, i've got a lil spinoff thing & MAYBE an epilogue lined up, sooo keep an eye out for those ;)

The world sort of starts to drag after the break up.

Your mother lets you take the next day off school, and you spend the weekend in bed, watching old animated movies from when you were younger and crying probably a little too much over the sad parts in the films. By Monday, your mother is practically pushing you out the door, enforcing her belief that the best way to handle sadness is by wallowing and then persevering, and according to her, you’d done enough wallowing to last at least a month. You knew that if you really pushed, she’d let you stay home for as long as you wanted, but you missed Carol and your eyes were starting to hurt from staring at a screen for so long, so school seemed like the best option.

Carol, thankfully, doesn’t give you an ounce of pity. You can tell she’s worried, but she doesn’t suffocate you with it - she bumps into your shoulder and grins from ear to ear when she finds you in the hallway, telling you she was worried your days as an active member of society were over.

You’d rolled your eyes, smiling your first genuine smile in days.

Until, of course, you looked to the side and saw her. She was talking with Steve and Nat, leaning against the lockers, arms crossed over her chest, and your heart dropped when she looked in your direction and caught you looking. She blinked, straightened up, lips parting, and god, it had looked like she was going to walk over.

You’d torn your eyes away, looped your arm through Carol’s and pulled so hard it was probably a miracle her arm didn’t come out of the socket. She’d started to protest, but it must’ve clicked pretty fast, because she fell silent and simply let you lead her away.

So, that’s how it’s been for almost three weeks - you avoiding Wanda Maximoff at every cost, slipping out of shared classes before she could make an effort to talk to you, ignoring the feeling of her eyes on you in the cafeteria as you picked mindlessly at your food, willing yourself not to look over. You and Carol didn’t talk about it past a I’m here if you wanna talk about it, you know that, right? Instead, you talked about how she finally grew a pair and asked Natasha to prom, that Natasha had said yes, and that Carol wasn’t sure if Nat wanted to match outfits or if that was too much. Val was tagging along with Thor and Loki, and the three were in the midst of conspiring a way to sneak any sort of alcohol into prom. So, talks of Carol and Natasha, of Val trying to enlist the two of you into joining her criminal activities and you having to convince Carol it was not a good idea, but no talk of Wanda.

Oh, except for the fact that her and Jarvis broke up.

Apparently, she’d been the one to pull the pin, at least that’s what Carol heard from Natasha. Despite your curiosity, you decide you don’t want to know more. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything, not really.

Only that Wanda was going to college in New York, instead of going to England.

But it doesn’t matter.

You don’t care.

It doesn’t change anything.

You’re so bummed about everything Wanda that when you get the acceptance letter from MIT, you barely have it in you to celebrate. It lifts your spirits, sure, and you smile when Carol and your mother both wrap you in bone-crushing hugs, but the second you get the urge to pull out your phone and tell Wanda, the good mood pretty much dies.

It doesn’t help that, when Tony approaches you at school as you’re packing up your locker in the locker room to quietly ask your result - he hugs you when you tell him, too, swears with a scout’s honour that he had nothing to do with it - you catch Wanda watching where she’s standing with Sam and Nat, and she looks away quickly when she realises she’s been spotted. She blushes, fingers curling into her bicep where she’s gripping her arm, and the deja vu is almost nauseating.

On top of everything, you’ve decided you don’t want to go to prom. Despite Carol’s insistence that it’s okay to join her and Nat, that Natasha wants you to join them instead of staying home, you can’t bring yourself to do it. It’s been difficult enough avoiding Wanda at school, so avoiding her while being stuck in the same gymnasium as her for a minimum of three hours? Impossible. You weren’t willing to run that risk.

Which is how, on prom night, you find yourself cross-legged on the couch with pizza, watching Pitch Perfect. You’ve made peace with it, even if Carol has spent the last four hours saying you should come. She gave up about half an hour ago, and on any other night, the radio silence would be concerning. But you’ve convinced yourself it’s fine.

Until there’s a knock at the door at the same time you get a text from her that simply reads:

Open the door or so help me

You groan, loudly, leaning your head back and hope she’ll give up.

You should know better, truly.

The knocking becomes insistent, and Carol starts shouting. You’re scrambling off the couch in a heartbeat - she’s done this before, and that ended in a complaint from your grouchy neighbours to the right. You whip the door open so forcefully it’s a surprise it doesn’t come straight off the hinges.

“Carol, I swear to God–” She slips past you and into the house, and you falter a little when you notice Natasha behind her, a suit jacket and pants on a coat hanger in her hold. The redhead smiles, and you open the door wider and step aside to let her in. “Carol, what–”

“You know that black button down you’ve got? Do you know where it is?” She’s already halfway up the stairs.

You sigh. “Dude, I’m not–”

“Yes, you are,” she calls down. “There’s no way you’re missing prom ‘cause there’s a chance you might run into your ex–”

“Carol!” you snap, because Natasha’s right there.

Nat chuckles. “Relax, Y/N. I know about you and Wanda.”

You whip your head around to face her, and she raises her eyebrows teasingly. “Danvers!” you start again, infuriated by the notion that she told Natasha, Wanda’s best friend, about your very secret relationship.

“Carol didn’t tell me,” Nat eases, putting a hand on your back. “I’ve known for a while. We both sort of figured it out together. You two weren’t as subtle as you think you were.”

You flush, averting your eyes. “Does, um, everyone know?”

Natasha nods. “Yeah, sort of,” she says. “When she broke up with Jarvis, she said there was someone, but didn’t specify, but pretty much everyone has their guesses.”

You nod, clearing your throat. “Great.”

“But, I mean, that wasn’t the reason she gave him,” she clarifies. “Said it was ‘cause it’s not what she wanted. Out of life, I mean. She only mentioned someone when he pushed.”

You relax a little, glad that it wasn’t a choice she made just because of you. Your relief must show on your face, because Nat’s face softens. A small grin pulls at her lips, but before she can say anything, Carol is back. She practically shoves the clothes into your arms, ignoring your displeased expression. “Okay. Put that on. We’re late.”

“Carol, I…”

“Please,” Carol says. “You’re my best friend. I don’t wanna go without you.” You sigh a little, shaking your head. “You don’t even have to stay long. Alright? Just show up, find out if Thor managed to sneak the drinks in. You’ll regret it if you don't.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” you mutter sarcastically, and Carol clicks her tongue.

“Chop chop, we’re on the clock, bucko.” You roll your eyes, but can’t fight your grin when you catch the blonde’s eyes. She grins back at you, waggling her eyebrows before she pushes gently. “Now.”

-

As you’re stepping into the gymnasium with Natasha’s grip on your hand like a vice, you think you might be able to handle this.

But then you do a quick scan of the crowd and you find Wanda looking right back at you. She looks fucking gorgeous; the dark red dress she’s wearing fits her like a glove, the neckline dipping dangerously low, her hair cascading down her back. Your feet freeze, and you watch Pietro notice you too before he leans in to whisper something in Wanda’s ear. She blinks, glancing briefly at her brother, who nods, before she looks back at you and takes a step forward.

“I can’t do this,” you mutter.

You manage to catch Natasha by surprise and pull your hand out of hers, and you hear Carol calling for you as you spin and start to make your way back towards the entrance. You don’t look back, and eventually Carol’s voice stops and another starts.

“Y/N!” You refuse to look back at her, shaking your head sharply as you slip through the crowd, ignoring the annoyed murmurs as the students part to let you through. “Y/N, wait.”

“No.”

“Y/N. Can you please just listen—” A hand catches your wrist just as you’ve stepped out the door, jolting you to a stop at the bottom of the steps.

You shake your head even as you turn to look up at her, pulling your hand out of her grip. “I’m not doing this, Wanda.”

Her jaw clenches in frustration, and you have to blink back the sudden onslaught of tears as you turn around again, all too aware of the eyes that are quickly tuning into the confrontation. You swallow thickly, turning on your heel, avoiding eye contact with anyone and ignoring Wanda’s stammering.

Until, “I love you!”

You go still as a few small gasps are heard, and you whirl around to face her. She lets out a heavy breath, her fingers curling and uncurling into fists and you watch the reality of the situation dawn on her. You can see from here the tears that form in her eyes.

“That’s - that’s not funny, Wanda.”

She shakes her head, your voice seemingly snapping her out of her thoughts as she takes four long strides to reach you, her hands catching the lapels of your suit jacket before you can step away from her.

“Wanda—”

“I love you,” she says again. Your heart is pounding so hard it hurts. Her gaze drops to your mouth for a few seconds before she finds your eyes again, and she’s frantic. “I know I messed up, but I want to be with you, because I love you, and I think… I think you love me, too.”

I do, you want to say. Of course I do.

Wanda swallows hard at your silence. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. Not immediately. But I want… I want to fix this. Fix us. I just - I just…” A beat, her fingers squeezing in your jacket. “Kiss me?”

The request is soft, shy, hopeful. Her hands shift, sliding up to cup your jaw. You swallow thickly, studying her face carefully before your gaze shifts, darting to the handful of people who are trying their best to pretend they aren’t watching. Her fingers press into your jaw, a silent urge for you to look back at her.

You do as much, heart still beating uncomfortably inside your chest. “Are you sure?”

She nods, eyes dropping to your lips. “Please.”

“There…” You take a breath, drop your voice to a whisper. “People are watching.”

Wanda gives you a thin smile, nods softly. “I know,” she murmurs. “I don’t care if they see. Not even a little.”

It’s all you need to hear. You grab her waist and pull her closer as your lips find hers in a kiss that’s hard and desperate, and you can taste the salt from her tears and absolutely nothing else matters. With her lips on yours, that puzzle piece that was missing in the last few weeks clicks right back into place. How something, someone, can feel so right is terrifying and exhilarating and you love her. She pulls away to breathe, her hands dropping to grip your jacket again.

“I love you,” she whispers it this time, eyes on yours. “I’m in love with you.”

“What - what about your parents?”

Wanda smiles, eyes watery. “I told my mother,” she says. “She - she said she’d make my father come around. Things will be different now. I won’t hide you. I don’t want to hide you. I promise, Y/N.”

You pull in a shaking breath, cupping her face in your hands, thumbs stroking tenderly over her skin as you try to string together a sentence that will properly convey the things you’re feeling right now. When words fail you, you kiss her. She sighs against your lips, her hands coming up to rest against your neck, her thumbs brushing tenderly along your jawline.

“I love you,” you whisper when you break apart for air. Wanda’s breath hitches, and she nudges her nose with yours.

“Let’s get out of here,” she murmurs. “We can talk. And then, if you want, just meet up with everyone later.”

“Mine or yours?” you ask softly.

“I don’t care,” she says quietly. “Just wanna be where you are.”

“Okay,” you grin, heart bursting. You kiss her cheek. “Okay, come on.”

Wanda grins back at you, lacing her fingers with yours when you take her hand and start to guide her to the carpark, weaving through the latecomers with giddy smiles on your faces. She doesn’t let go of your hand the whole way home, toying mindlessly with your fingers as you drive. She only lets go of you to get out of the car, and then she grabs your hand again to pull you towards the front door. The second you’ve got your key in the door and have pushed it open, Wanda’s taking your face in her hands and pulling your mouth to hers. You kick the door shut, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her against you as she kisses you.

The two of you stumble upstairs, and the second you’re in your room, Wanda’s trying to pull off your suit jacket, giggling against your lips as you fall into your bed. She pulls you on top of her, humming against your mouth as her legs wind around your waist as much as the dress she’s wearing allows.

“I love you,” she whispers, over and over, as your kisses trail down her neck and her fingers find their way beneath her skirt. When she gasps, head tipping back, you echo the sentiment against her throat, heart thumping with anticipation.

Sometime later, when you and Wanda have changed into comfy clothes and Wanda is resting her head on your shoulder, toying absently with your fingers, she says, “Y/N?” You hum, twining your fingers together, running your thumb against hers. Wanda swallows hard. “Does… does this mean we’re together?”

You take a breath, heart pounding all of a sudden. “We’re going to college soon,” you whisper, and Wanda nods, and doesn't stop playing with your fingers. “We’d have to do long distance.”

“I know,” she murmurs, and then clears her throat. “It’s… it’s worth it. Y’know? I mean, it’s only an hour’s flight. I can - I can fly up and visit. Or you can come visit me. And we can video call during the semesters. It might get hard, but I… I’d like to try. If… I mean - if that’s what you want.” She pushes up onto an elbow to look down at you, her lips kiss swollen and her hair a mess, and you fall in love all over again. “Is that what you want?”

You smile softly, reaching up to push hair out of her eyes, behind her ear. “I have never, in my life, wanted anything more.”

Wanda’s smile is so bright it’s almost blinding.

When you show up at Tony’s party later that night, hand in hand, your friends practically explode into cheers. It’s completely embarrassing, and you’re sure you’re blushing like crazy, but when Wanda just giggles and squeezes your hand as she hides a little against your shoulder, a content warmth blossoms in your chest.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

You’re so nervous, your legs are wobbly. Wanda’s grip on your hand is tight, reassuring as she follows Pietro towards the front door. The twins had insisted it was perfectly fine to stay the night - apparently, Iryna had even encouraged it - but you couldn’t shake the nerves nonetheless. You suppose you felt a little guilty, having lied to Iryna for as long as you did, and the idea of her being angry with you was terrifying, to say the least. You’d even gone as far to avoid her whenever you knew she was puttering around in your home during the week, and now knowing that she’s known of you and Wanda’s relationship since the day you broke up, you really were worried she would be upset with you.

But Wanda had pulled out the doe-eyes-and-pout move, and you hadn’t stood a chance.

Pietro opens the door, announcing, “Mama, we’re home!” as he does, and Wanda presses a quick kiss to your shoulder when you tense up.

You swallow thickly as Iryna comes into view, pausing when Pietro drops a kiss to her cheek as he moves into the kitchen. She’s watching you in a way you can’t decipher, a trait you’ve come to realise that Wanda has inherited, and it makes you want to fidget under her gaze. Wanda squeezes your hand gently before letting go and stepping away, and your fingers twitch with the urge to reach for her again.

But Iryna steps forward, coming to a stop in front of you and reaching up to cup your face, and for a second you think she might kill you. You swallow hard, intimidated by her silence, but then, a tiny, almost mischievous smile pulls at her lips.

“You’ll be good to my daughter, yes?”

Your breath leaves you in a relieved huff, and you nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her smile becomes a full, warm one, and she gently pinches your cheek before dropping her hands to your shoulders. “You’re a good girl, Y/N,” she says. “You have my blessing.”

You couldn’t not smile even if your life depended on it. Your cheeks flush, and Iryna’s smile widens as she steps away, shooting Wanda a quick wink on her way back towards the kitchen. Your eyes find Wanda, who bites into her lip to try and hide her smile until her mother is out of sight, and she all but leaps into your arms. You grab her with a small laugh, squeezing her tight and setting her down. Her arms wind around your neck as she beams up at you, and she leans in to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

“See?” she says. “I told you, you had nothing to worry about.”

You hum thoughtfully, gently squeezing her waist and kissing the corner of her mouth, her cheek. “Maybe I should listen to you more often,” you mumble.

Wanda hums in agreement, turning her face to catch your lips. “Mm, I think you should,” she murmurs against your mouth. You huff a good-natured laugh, kiss her again.

Her hands slide onto your jaw as you lick at her bottom lip, and she sighs quietly when you deepen the kiss, pulling her flush against you.

“Okay, that’s disgusting.”

You pull away to find Pietro, who, despite his words, is grinning at the two of you. Still, you take a step back, wiping at your mouth in an attempt to make sure there’s no remnants of Wanda’s lipstick on your face.

“Pietro, don’t be an ass,” Wanda says sternly, hand finding its home in yours as she twines your fingers. He holds his hands up in surrender and takes a few steps closer.

“I’m not!” he says. “I just think it’s gross watching you make out with your girlfriend in the middle of the house.”

Your cheeks flush at the teasing grin he shoots you, but Wanda just turns her chin up at him. “Fine,” she says, starting to pull you towards the stairs, “I’ll go make out with her in my room.”

“Gross,” he says loudly.

“Pietro, don’t be mean,” Iryna calls from another room.

Halfway up the stairs, Wanda turns around just long enough to stick her tongue out at her brother, and the man scoffs indignantly, throwing his hands up dramatically.

You just can’t stop smiling.

-

Watching your friends walk across the stage feels surreal. Walking across it yourself, even more-so.

There’s a moment, as you watch Pietro and then Wanda take their diplomas and shake hands with the principal, where you realise how much everything has changed in the span of a year. A year ago, Wanda was just Wanda Maximoff, the sweet girl with an accent that you caught yourself risking glances at just because she’s that pretty, whose equally-sweet mother made sure your home stayed organised and tidy to compensate for your mother’s demanding job at the hospital.

Now, she’s one of the most important people in your life.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when Tony whistles obnoxiously as Wanda takes her diploma, and she looks out over the crowd of graduates and right at you, a chest-achingly beautiful smile on her face, and your heart just about melts.

There’s a slightly awkward moment in the carpark, afterwards, when as you’re standing around with Tony, Carol, Nat, Wanda, Pietro, Steve, Sam and Bucky, Jarvis approaches the group, diploma in hand. He hardly looks at anyone but Wanda as he informs everyone that he’ll be going to the airport that night, back to England, and that he’s glad he had them there to show him the ropes, and that Wanda had been so nice to him, despite the circumstances.

He shakes everyone’s hands, gives you and Carol a terse smile and a sharp nod, and then he’s gone.

There’s a few seconds of silence, and you only relax when Wanda finds your hand and leans up to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Tony clears his throat, throws his arms around Steve and Pietro’s shoulders. “Alright. Who’s down to get wasted?”

Hours later, when all of the guests except for your group have stumbled out of Tony’s house at the 1:30AM curfew, you’re sitting on the couch with Carol’s legs thrown over your lap, Wanda’s head on your shoulder and your right hand caught between both of hers. Sam and Bucky are in the throes of a push-up contest, and Carol is counting along to keep track.

Sam loses at 109 push-ups. Half of the guests groan, begrudgingly hand over $5 notes, as Sam rolls onto his back and breathlessly calls Bucky a freak.

Your head is a little fuzzy from the alcohol, and your whole body is warm, and you know then and there how much you’re going to miss this.

The summer goes by in a whirl; there are parties and sleepovers and quiet nights with your mother, and you spend every spare moment you have with Wanda. Your mother and Iryna start going out for brunch every once in a while, and you finally meet Mr Maximoff, who watches you with apprehension but finally softens when he notices just how bright Wanda seems when she’s around you.

When he finally speaks a full sentence to you - just casually, as he’s leaving a room - Pietro smacks you on the back and gives you one of those wink-nod things. You have to lean on your hand to hide your smile.

Carol enlists in the Air Force, a step in the direction of becoming a pilot, and you’re so happy for her that it feels silly.

You’re all too aware of how time is ticking, how you’re going to have to go your separate ways with all your friends, but all that does is make every fleeting moment better, more memorable.

When the time comes, Wanda and Carol come with you to Boston to help you move into your dorm room. Tony has arranged a rental car for them to drive down to New York, because of course he has, and you think you’re handling it all pretty well until you’re meeting Carol at the car.

You sort of just don’t want to let them go.

Wanda is putting on a brave face, kissing your knuckles as Carol loads Wanda’s luggage into the car.

“We’ll call, like, all the time,” Wanda mutters, the way she’s been doing for at least ten minutes, like she’s trying to see reason in everything by audibly reminding herself of it. “And it’ll be so great when we get to see each other during the breaks.”

You huff a laugh, ignoring the warning look that Wanda sends you because the tears in her eyes make it fall short.

“Oh, sweetheart,” you chuckle, cupping her face and leaning in close. Cold fingers wrap around your wrists as you kiss her, slow and steady, trying to burn the curve of her mouth into your brain. You kiss the tip of her nose as you pull back. “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry, and I’m a very ugly crier so I’d rather not.”

Wanda sniffles, giving you an amused look. You smile, pressing another quick kiss to her lips, stroking your thumbs over her cheeks.

You only look away from her when Carol knocks on the roof of the car, and both you and Wanda turn to look at her. “Uh, hello, where’s my goodbye kiss?” You roll your eyes and Wanda giggles. Carol grins, gets into the car, and you look back to Wanda to find her looking at you so softly it makes you blush.

“I love you,” Wanda says quietly.

You don’t even hesitate. “I love you, too.” Her lips quirk and then twist as she drops her eyes, and you can tell she’s trying not to cry. “Hey,” you coo softly, cupping her face in your hands. “I’ll see you during the break, okay?”

Wanda takes a breath, manages to catch your eyes again. “I'm gonna miss you.”

You smile gently, lean in to give her a soft kiss. “I’m gonna miss you, too.” She nudges her nose against yours before she leans back. “Okay. Okay. Quick, before I throw myself at your feet and beg you not to leave me.”

Wanda huffs a laugh, kisses your cheek, and then steps towards the car and opens the door. “So dramatic,” she chides. You smile, stuff your hands into your pockets if only to stop yourself from reaching for her as she slides into the passenger seat. You swallow dryly, leaning down to the window once Wanda has put it down.

You grin when you notice the sunglasses now sitting stop Carol’s nose. “You alright over there, Carol?”

“Peachy,” the blonde replies, voice steady. You huff a laugh, amused by your friend’s antics, before turning your attention back to Wanda.

“I’ll call you once I’m at the dorm,” she says. You nod.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Carol clears her throat. “Alright, Maximoff, no bathroom breaks for at least an hour and a half.”

Wanda grins, mocks a salute. “Aye-aye, aviator.”

Carol rolls her eyes to the heavens. “It doesn’t even make sense,” she mutters for what must be the millionth time this summer.

Once the car has disappeared from view, you take a deep breath, turn around, and start to make your way back to your dorm room. Just as you’re getting inside, your phone dings in your pocket, and you’re smiling the moment you see who it’s from.

You open Wanda’s message, grinning at the photo of Carol trying to hide that she’s crying, Wanda beaming in the corner of the frame, your heart so full it sort of hurts.

i knew she’d miss me

There’s a typing bubble, and then:

Not nearly as much as I do

sap.

For you?? Always

You huff as you drop onto your bed, the mattress bouncing a little with the force, that silly smile still on your face.

You love Wanda Maximoff. Completely and overwhelmingly.

And she loves you right back.

[cheritzteam]

[The Ssum] Special Interview on The Ssum (feat. Bluebird)

Hello, this is Cheritz.

As we have entered the month of August, it has been raining a lot in Korea.

Are you waiting to hear the news on the official launching of <The Ssum : Forbidden Lab>?

Some of you might have realized there is a little secret(?) with the PV we previously released, and today we have brought small news!

Perhaps you are tired of seeing PIU-PIU all the time, so…

We give you the Bluebird!

We have asked some questions in order to prepare you for your upcoming encounter with your special ssum-one! :D

(Please scroll down if you are interested!)

***The following contents include the wholesome conversations that took place during the interview.***

Q. Please introduce yourself. A. I am the Bluebird, No. 37. I’d like to ask you to keep this interview brief, as there is a place that requires my presence right after.

Q. Where are you needed?  A. I’ve been relocating the post from ** sector on *** of *** to the lab studying human emotions.

Q. So you run the application that allows sweet, heart-fluttering chats between the users and this special ssum-one, right?? A. If you are talking about The Ssum, I must tell you that it is managed by the lab that studies love.

Q. (I’m starting to question where this conversation is going…) Is there a reason why all A.I.’s come in form of birds? A. That would be a top secret, classified.

Q. Uh... Sure... Anyways, let us move on and talk about the game. Is it true that contents worth 200 days of chat will be unfolded real-time? A. It is true.

Q. So what about chats that would take place after the 200th day? A. We are currently working on them.

Q. Could you tell us whether you will provide matches with a variety of men who could be potential special ssum-one? (A lot of our users seek conversations with more than a single person…) A. It is highly likely that will be the case in the future. 

Q. Is it true that the special ssum-one will send messages whenever the user can check them for sure? Any chances that he will wake up the users in the middle of the night? A. Our A.I. named PIU-PIU used a unique technology that transcends time and space and provides a match between two different daily patterns.

Q. Is that a warning for sleep deprivation? A. Just make sure you enter the right data.

Q. The disclosed images showed how the special ssum-one changes his hair and outfits. Is there a reason he does that? Or is this part of a special event?! A. That is up for him to decide.

Q. (Now that was simple…) Will he get to send a lot of pictures? A. I cannot answer that one. I am not the special ssum-one.

Q. Come on, give us a hint! How many pictures can users expect each day?! A. According to our data, it is common to see a couple exchanging at least 10 pictures per day.

Q. (Is that supposed to be a hint??) Okay, moving on! Ever since PIU-PIU’s Love Bundle was revealed, we have been receiving questions about app subscription! A. You mean the upgrade for PIU-PIU. 

Q. Is subscription a must?? Does this mean that users cannot complete the game without upgrading PIU-PIU? A. PIU-PIU on default will not disappoint, although it does come with a bit of flaws.

Q. Will users get to experience termination of chats in the middle without subscription? A. No.

Q. So what is the immediate good that the users can find in upgrading PIU-PIU?  A. Its frequency will get stronger. 

Q. (I’m not sure if this fella is really here to promote this game…) Just what is the <Forbidden Lab>? Why is it forbidden? A. I’m afraid this is not the right time to tell you that. (Whisper) Come find me in the game.  And I must take my leave now.

Q. Wait! Before you go, please give us a word of promotion for The Ssum!!! A. It comes with features that make it more than a simple communication app.

Q. I see… Thank you for sparing your time. We will look forward to the Forbidden Lab and The Ssum!

***End of the interview***

That is all from the Bluebird!

We hope it was helpful for those of you who had questions!

You will get to see a variety of surprises and treats from your special ssum-one for 200 days...

Spend your days and nights in sweetness as your chats with your special ssum-one grows deeper and sweeter, and find out all the hidden features of the app!

And we hope you will meet again with PIU-PIU and the Bluebird in the game.

Please remember that on the 17th of August, <The Ssum : Forbidden Lab> will be officially lauched!

We will bring more news to entertain you in the future, and we wish you a happy day!

-Cheritz-

[hollandorks]

middle of the night

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

chapter four

summary:  y/n’s life changes immensely, starting with the Batman falling out of the sky right in front of her and ending with a promising new job at Wayne Manor. As her life intertwines with that of both Batman and Bruce Wayne, she begins to figure out that there’s more to both than meets the eye. No spoilers for the Batman movie.

a/n: Listen I’ve already written almost eleven chapters of this nonsense and having a blast. So I’m keeping the momentum going and posting another chapter! I’ve been seriously having so much fun writing this. Enjoy this nice, long chapter. I thrive off reader feedback so please feel free to drop a comment, ask, or even yell in the tags if you reblog! Also let me know if you would like to be tagged in future updates. Also if you don’t see your tag and requested one, some won’t work for me! 

Series Masterlist

word count: 3374

But she couldn’t deny that she wanted, just a little bit, to solve the mystery of Bruce Wayne.

The third time y/n saw Bruce Wayne, he was standing in the center of the foyer looking absolutely bewildered. 

She had worked for him nearly two full weeks. It was a Friday. She was nearly done with the second floor and had started on the library. She wasn’t looking forward to the weekend this time, though. She’d be back at the Iceberg Lounge that night as well as the next night. But at least she had been able to deposit her first paycheck during lunch. She had a nice payment ready to take to the Penguin. 

“Mr. Wayne?” she asked softly. His head snapped up. Of all things he was…blushing? Today he was dressed in a smart suit that was tailored to his tall frame. He looked…good. More than good. Now she was the one blushing. 

“Good mo–afternoon, y/n.” 

She blinked. She hadn’t realized he knew her name. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Wayne?” 

“Bruce, please.” He gave a twitch of the lips that she thought was meant to be a smile. “I–no. I was just admiring the flowers. I’m on my way to a meeting.” 

Her cheeks heated in earnest now. She had placed a fresh bouquet of flowers–purchased on the way back from the bank on her lunch break–and arranged them on a table centered in the foyer. The manor was in desperate need of light and color. 

“They look nice,” he continued softly. He lightly touched one of the flowers with a fingertip. He shifted almost awkwardly under her scrutiny. He put a pair of sunglasses on. “Have a good night.” 

And then he was gone again. 

For someone so reclusive, he sure didn’t seem to be home a lot, y/n mused. 

As she got ready for work at the club later that evening, she made sure to tuck the envelope of cash into her bra where it would be safest. She put on makeup, her own version of armor, and made sure her hair was done just so. The Penguin wasn’t hands on with his employees, but he did expect a certain level of excellence from everyone. And it started with looks. Her button up shirt was tight with a couple of buttons undone, her black skirt shorter than she would have liked. And her uniform–and those of the other waitresses and bartenders– was a lot more modest than those of any dancers, performers, and everyone who worked in the VIP club downstairs. 

She took a taxi from the gates of Wayne Manor to the nearest subway station and rode from there to the Iceberg Lounge. She tried her best to ignore the catcalls her work uniform garnered as she rode. She was used to it. 

After being let in the back door of the club by one of the bouncers, she was escorted straight to the Penguin. 

He lounged on a cushy sofa in his office. There were glass windows that muffled the noise of the music and overlooked the club below. The scars on his face were thrown into sharp relief with every flash of the lights. 

She held out the envelope. “This month’s payment, plus three percent interest.” 

The Penguin counted it quickly, then sat back as if he had absolutely no care in the world. She supposed he didn’t. Not when people like her brought people like him envelopes of cash to keep themselves alive. 

“Bruce Wayne’s paying you good to keep his bed warm then, eh sweetheart?” He chuckled, and the peanut gallery of thugs around him chuckled right along with him. Including the asshole who’d bruised her cheek a few weeks ago. “No matter, long as I get my money back some way or another. Get to work. You’re at the bar with Jack tonight.” 

“Yes sir,” she said through clenched teeth. She hoped the hate didn’t show on her face. She wanted to hit him. She wished she were someone like Batman, able to take care of herself and hurt men like the Penguin. Men who deserved it.  

But all she did was smile pretty and get to work. 

Her shift passed achingly slowly. As she worked she wondered if the regular patrons were spreading rumors about her. Were they whispering that men who touched her got punched in the face? Or were they whispering that she was Bruce Wayne’s whore? She wondered if any of the goons upstairs had started whispers about her new job. 

She felt eyes on her, all around her, their gazes heavy and unsettling as she cleaned a glass. She imagined she heard them whispering. If Bruce Wayne paid her, what could they get her to do for money? The people who frequented this club were not good people, no matter what jobs they held during the day. Police. Lawyer. Councilman. Doctor. Politician. In this club, they were all the same. They were all men who thought they were owed certain things. Things they paid men like the Penguin to give them. 

The glass in her hands shattered. 

With a muffled curse she bent to clean it up. A thin slice opened on her palm and began to sting from the residual alcohol. A drop of blood beaded on the wound and shone red in the strobing lights of the club. 

“Clumsy girl,” a man drawled from the bar. “Though I can’t say I mind the view.” 

She could feel his hungry gaze on her backside. It felt like hot grease on her skin, slipping and sliding and burning her. The club went quiet, drowned out by the rush of her own rage in her ears. 

When she straightened, bloodied palm clenched in her good hand, she realized that the club around her had actually gone quiet. As quiet as it could get with blaring music. 

On the steps leading up to the Penguin’s office was the Batman. 

She blinked furiously. Strobe lights flashed red and white and red again. She saw snapshots of him moving, throwing a punch, catching a blow on his forearm. It was like watching a stop motion movie. Like watching flashes of a dream. Penguin’s bodyguards were stopping him from pushing his way up the stairs to the office.

He was here, in the Iceberg Lounge. 

In the next flash, the Penguin was there. He was smiling. They exchanged words. Or maybe Penguin spoke while Batman listened. 

Within a minute, Batman was following him up to his office. 

What could Batman possibly be doing here? 

“Now that’s something you don’t see everyday,” the same sleazebag slurred. He smiled up at her from where he drooped over the bar. He had thick eyebrows and a receding hairline. “Reckon he’s coming to buy something?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

Y/n scoffed. “I doubt it. He’s probably threatening my boss.” She hated calling him that, “her boss.” But here, image was everything. And words counted for that, too. She owed an extra twenty thousand for badmouthing the Penguin to one of the other girls back when she’d first been hired, after her mom died. It was one reason she was always careful here. And one reason she didn’t trust any of her fellow employees. They traded information for the Penguin’s favor, for the smallest chance of their debts being lowered, without a care for anyone else. She couldn’t blame them. If she was any more desperate, she would do the same thing. So instead she kept to herself. 

“Hey, you’re bleeding there, baby,” the man cooed. “Let me take you somewhere to patch you up.” 

She gave the man a tight smile. “No thank you.” 

She quickly finished sweeping up the glass and then called to the other bartender, Jack. She held up her bloody hand in a wave and indicated with her other hand she’d be back in five minutes. Jack, she’d learned, was just another of the Penguin’s thugs who happened to know how to make mixed drinks. He was posted at the bar as a sort of undercover bouncer. In case anything happened, he had a pistol under his suit jacket and a shotgun under the bar. And he wasn’t afraid to tattle on his coworkers either.

She shoved her way around the perimeter of the crowd towards the shitty employee bathrooms in the back. At least they were quiet. She grabbed a bandage from her bag in her employee locker and shoved the bathroom door open with her foot. 

A drop of dark red blood splashed against the dingy white sink. In the harsh fluorescents, y/n looked haggard. What was Batman doing here, of all places? She wanted to burst into Penguin’s office. Damn the consequences. She’d thought about Batman more times that she cared to admit to herself. She couldn’t get him out of her head. What was he doing here?

She cursed colorfully as she struggled to bandage the cut one-handed. 

The door banged open behind her.

“Occupied, asshole!” she shouted over the music that came blaring through the open door. . 

Batman appeared as a dark shadow against the single bright white light above them. 

It was as if her thoughts had summoned him.

She hated that her heart stuttered the way it did. 

“What are you–what are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be back here.” 

“I could ask you the same thing, y/n,” he said in a low growl. She closed her eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over her. “You work here?”

“You remember me?” she asked. 

“Of course I remember you.” He slid his gauntlets off and took the bandage from her. “Did someone do this to you?” 

Had someone slipped her something? Why did it feel like a hallucination every time she saw him? The sheer darkness of him, made of shadows, clashed with the brilliance of the fluorescents.

He took her injured hand in both of his. His skin was warm, almost hot. Electricity zinged up and down her arm from the connection of skin on skin. His fingers were rough with callouses but gentle as he fixed the bandage over her torn skin. 

She realized he’d asked a question. “I broke a glass.” Dazed, she watched his long fingers deftly patch her up. “Is this a dream? Is a vigilante really putting a bandaid on me right now?” 

A corner of his lips turned up in a half smile that was gone in the blink of an eye. 

“I recognized you,” he said quietly. He stepped back from her, which wasn’t far in the small bathroom. “I needed to ask if you knew anything about the women who’ve been disappearing.” 

She blinked. “What?” she said stupidly. “What women?” 

“Three women have disappeared in the past month. Only one body has been found. They all worked here.” 

Y/n slumped against the dirty tile wall. “Three?” she echoed. Her eyes traced the line of his jaw of their own accord. She watched, enraptured, as he put his gloves and gauntlets back on. “I don’t–I didn’t know anything about that. Is that why you’re here? Questioning the Penguin?” 

“Yes. He swears he knows nothing. Asked why he would waste a valuable resource.” 

Her skin crawled at the word. Resource. Not employees. No care at all for the women they were–the women they’d been. Gotham had a bad habit of chewing up women and spitting them back out dead while men like the Penguin looked the other way. 

“The Penguin’s a piece of shit,” she spat, “but he’s got a point. He values his employees for what they can bring him. And if I didn’t know them or about their disappearances…” She hesitated. She could get in a lot of trouble if Penguin knew she was telling him anything at all. Trouble that got girls killed. But this was Batman. He wanted to help. He would help. “That means they worked downstairs. There’s…that’s where…worse things happen.” 

Batman studied her without expression. 

She shouldn’t say anything else. He could figure it out from there. “I have to get back to work. See you around.” 

He moved out of the way as she opened the door. She stepped past him. Close. Too close. 

She quickly made sure no one else was around before hustling back to the bar. 

The creep from earlier was gone now, thank God, but there was an end of the night rush to contend with. Everyone wanted one last drink before the upstairs bar closed. A couple of patrons were shown downstairs while everyone else had to clear out. Y/n’s gaze skipped past them with well-practiced ease. She was used to ignoring faces here. If she recognized anyone, if she ever tried to tie them to this place, she would be one of the women who disappeared.

God, three women had disappeared? There had been no indication that something sinister was happening downstairs. At least, anything more sinister than usual. Something bad was happening downstairs if three women had already disappeared. Y/n had heard about the sort of things that happened down there. The sort of men that frequented the space. The meetings that happened between them. The expectations of the women–and few men–that worked there every night. 

As she fielded orders and mixed and poured drinks, she found herself watching every shadow for a sign of Batman. She knew he was long gone by now. But she hoped for one more glimpse of him. Just one. At least someone was looking for those women. 

Finally, finally, last call was over and she cleaned up while Jack cashed out the register. All of her tips went to the Penguin, of course. But she wasn’t totally sure they went towards her debts. She was afraid to ask, in case they didn’t. 

It hit her then, fully hit her, that those were problems of the past. Just one paycheck signed by Bruce Wayne had already made such a huge difference in her life. Exhausted tears pricked her eyes. She only had to do one more night of this for the next week, instead of five more nights. 

She leaned heavily against the storeroom shelves for a minute, letting that sink in. 

She finished restocking the bar feeling lighter than she had in years. 

As y/n changed and gathered her things from her locker, her thoughts turned to her encounter with Batman. The feeling of his bare hands on hers. The intensity that emanated from him. His quiet, deep voice. She hoped she saw him again. 

Her thoughts were still wrapped up in her encounter with Batman as she stepped into the back alley. The bouncer at the back door nodded at her from his post right inside the door. He held his phone in one hand and a small cup of coffee in the other. 

Cool air wrapped around her shoulders. The air was as fresh as it got inside of city limits. A hint of autumn came with the breeze. Y/n paused and inhaled deeply. She loved this moment every time she left the Iceberg Lounge. The moment she could shake off the night, forget for a little while that she worked there and why. 

Someone roughly grabbed her wrist. 

“There you are, baby,” a voice said. “I’ve been waiting half the night out here for you.” 

It was the man from earlier. The one who’d had such a good time watching her clean up broken glass. Y/n tried to yank her arm out of his grip. He held on tighter. It seemed as if he’d sobered up quite a bit while he’d been waiting. The bones in her wrist ground together painfully. 

“Let me go,” she said in a low, dangerous voice. She moved her other hand slowly around to where the taser waited in her back pocket. 

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that. I heard about your little deal with Bruce Wayne.” So fast she couldn’t act, he grabbed her other wrist. “How much does he pay you for a night? I promise I can compensate you for your time.” 

“I’m not for sale, asshole,” she spat in his face. Fear wrapped ice cold tendrils around her heart. She could barely breathe. She’d heard of stuff like this happening outside of this club, but she’d always been so careful. She should have kept her taser in her hand. Kept her gun at her side. She should have punched the asshole at the bar earlier and dealt with the consequences later. “If you want to buy someone, you have to be invited downstairs! Now let me go.” 

The man growled and shoved her roughly against the bricks. Pain exploded from the back of her head where it collided with the wall. He still held fast to her wrists. “You bitch,” he practically crooned. His lips nuzzled against her ear. She wanted to vomit. To scream. But this was Gotham. No one came running when someone yelled for help. She had to get free. Had to get to her taser. Had to, before it was too late. Before–before–she couldn’t finish the thought. “Fine. Don’t accept my generous offer. Besides, what’s the saying? Why buy what you can take for free?” 

He kissed her full on the mouth just as she tried to scream. He bit her lip, hard, and coppery blood filled her mouth. She thrashed against him. She could feel him pressed against her. Her struggling was making him more excited. He liked feeling powerful. 

One of his hands finally gave up one of hers to paw at her chest. She reared back and headbutted him, then made a grab for the taser while he howled in pain and called her every dirty curse word he could think of. 

Right as her taser lit up the flesh on the inside of his thigh, he was yanked roughly off of his feet from behind. 

Batman’s fist connected with the man’s face once. Twice. Three times. Four. 

“You couldn’t have stepped in sooner?” she shouted at the Batman as he tossed the now-unconscious man to the ground. “You fucking–he could have–he–” 

Batman turned to face her. Her words stuttered to an abrupt halt. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. His jaw was clenched so tight she was surprised it didn’t shatter. “I couldn’t tell from my vantage point that anything was wrong at first. I saw him waiting out here, but–” 

She shoved both of her hands into his chest. “You asshole!” He didn’t budge in the slightest. All at once the fight left her. She wiped furiously at her neck where the man’s disgusting lips had touched her. She needed a shower. Or some bleach. Or bleach and then a shower. She spit out a mouthful of blood. She may or may not have aimed it at the man on the ground. Then she aimed a vicious kick at his side. 

“I’m sorry,” Batman said again in his low growl of a voice. “Although I am impressed with how you handled yourself.” 

She huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well. It’s Gotham. People who don’t at least have pepper spray are idiots. Especially because you can’t be everywhere at once.” Did she imagine it, or did something like hurt pass over what she could see of his face? Backtracking, she quickly added, “Thank you. By the way. Feel free to hit him a few more times if you want. And thanks for patching me up earlier.” 

He stared at her for a long moment. “You’re welcome,” he finally said. 

“I should let you get back to…crime fighting. I have to get home.” She didn’t want to leave, but she was starting to feel this long night in her bones. She wanted to sleep all day, sleep until her next shift. She wanted to quit this job. She tried to hide the shaking of her hands by clenching them into fists. 

“Be careful, y/n,” he said. 

“I will.” She pressed the button on the taser for emphasis and watched its satisfying zap. She thought she caught the ghost of a smile before he disappeared into the shadows at the end of the alley. 

She didn’t notice his shadow following her to the subway station, making sure she arrived safely.

Next Chapter

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[the-magicians-blue]

hey. ill give u some candy if u make more micah yujin content pspsps

👀 I would like twix please and thank you. Speaking of sweet things…

ALSO TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY WHO ARE THEY???

5:37pm

The biggest surprise Micah got when he started dating you was how sweet you actually are and how much you’re into him. He knew you liked him, but it’s not until you become a little more open and honest with him that he feels you love for him is as deep as his love for you. Of course the feisty side of you is still there and he still finds your back and forth banter exciting and sexy but BOI does he love your sweeter side. You were so gentle with him sometimes he felt one day he’d just melt and turn into a puddle of Micah. He’d like to think you’d still love him though.

You always make a point to set time aside to spend with him, even if its just a movie and cuddles before bed or a long video call on nights when he can’t be with you physically. He swears he was sent to heaven when he noticed your planner had ‘Micah Time <3’ on literally every day. Like how can someone be that cute??? He doesn’t get it??? Of course he never tells you that he saw your planner but every now when you call him or join him on the couch he’ll casually ask:

“Oh? Is it Micah time Angel? Good. I missed ya~”

To this day you aren’t sure if its a coincidence or if he knows.

On days where you’re both free to spend more time together sometimes you take him off guard with having something planned for you to do together. His favorite is when you find a desert recipe to try and make. He loves sweets and cooking. Adding you to the mix makes them a million times better for him. You two made a cake together once for his birthday and it became his favorite birthday gift to date.

Of course you being sweet doesn’t bar him from teasing you. The one thing he will never let you live down was when he caught you simping over him while gaming on call with your friend. You thought he was in the kitchen and you were in the clear to talk about him. Little did you know the sneaky man had decided to record your call onto his computer while you were distracted by the game and your friend when he overheard the mention of his name when he walked by the door. He listened in from a different room and was both floored and over the moon about how you described him to your friends. He’ll never admit it but he cried hearing what you had to say about him.

“He’s just so… amazingly perfect? Like yeah I wanna beat his ass half the time but like in a romantic way? It’s weird I deadass hated this man a few months ago and now I get depressed if I don’t hear from him at least once a day. This man has me in a choke hold and it concerns me that I’m becoming more an more ok with it. Like brodie I am DOWN BAD for this man. He could literally try to seduce me in that dumb weenie costume he has and I’d still think he’s cute. It’s weird… I don’t ever think I’ve been into someone this much before, especially in such a short time. It’s scary, but in a good way I guess…”

Later that night he showed up in his weenie costume with a smirk as started flirting with you, giving you the corniest jokes he’s got. When you laugh and tell him to leave and take the costume off he raises an eyebrow and goes:

“Oh? Why should I? If I’m remembering correctly didn’t you say you’d still think I’m cute weenie suit or not? I thought you were down bad for me~ Don’t try and deny it angel, I’ve got it all recorded.”

To this day he thanks the universe that he thought to have his camera ready because the look on your face was priceless for him. He even keeps as his home screen (not lock screen he would never allow anyone else to see such a cute reaction) or sends it to you randomly whenever you think you have the upper hand in one of your banters. However he never sends the actual recording to you. Thats his and his alone to hear. Whenever he has to be away from your home for a long period of time or he wants your attention while your working he’ll listen to to remind himself that you love him just as much as he does and even if you’re both busy eventually Micah Time will come around and he’ll have you to himself. Can’t have Micah Time without his angel right?

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hey I adore your writing and heard about your pride month snippets that you might be posting soon??? starting with asexual for the alphabet (which is really creative I love that 😊!) and so I was hoping that maybe you could do a very flirty villain finding out hero is asexual and all the questions and almost like friendship that sprouts from it?!?

if not don’t worry! love your work!! ❤️❤️❤️

The villain hummed and very suddenly and very softly their hand landed on the hero’s shoulder. The hero had enough time to turn around before the villain could presumably ambush them.

“You look so lonely, darling. You look like you have the world on your shoulders.” In one second, the hero had almost enjoyed the gala and in the next, their devilish nemesis was here to mess everything up again.

“I didn’t know you’re allowed on galas,” the hero said. They scrutinised the villain to find any kind of threat, any weapon on them.

And yet again, the villain was the threat. They were the weapon.

The villain grinned from ear to ear.

“I am not, darling.” They took a sip out of their champagne glass and wiggled with their eyebrows. “But let’s just say that I invited myself in. I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” The hero hadn’t expected that. It was flattering. But it scared the hero. It scared them so much. “That’s very nice.”

They flashed a smile at the villain, trying not to let them catch the fear in their eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about you for a while. The way you kicked my ass two weeks ago…I can’t get that out of my head.”

The hero tried to control the thoughts racing through their mind. They didn’t want to have a conversation that turned into a debate with a person they were intrigued by again.

“Are you drunk?”

The villain looked deeply into their glass, their gaze absent but still as intelligent as ever. Their smile was a bit sheepish, though.

“Mmmmaybe. I don’t think I’d have the confidence to tell you this when I’m sober.” They swayed a little but at least they weren’t jumping at the hero. It was funny in a way that a cat staring into the abyss was funny.

“Do you do that often? Going on galas to get yourself drunk?” The hero smiled a little. It was entertaining to see the big scary villain in civilian clothes. It was even more entertaining to see them being tipsy. This way, the hero could’ve been so cruel to their nemesis.

They could’ve arrested them. They could’ve questioned them. They could’ve blackmailed them. But technically, the villain’s civilian persona hadn’t even done anything. Yet.

“Only when you’re at the gala. I like you. A lot.”

The hero took a deep breath and the anxiety came bouncing back. They already felt guilt they shouldn’t, they felt this stupid responsibility again.

This was always the worst part.

As if they owed the villain. As if they weren’t enough. They knew those thoughts were wrong and generally speaking, those were thoughts of the past which they’d banned from their brain.

Nonetheless, habits are hard to kill.

“In what way do you like me?”

“In that way.”

“What?”

“Huh?” The villain was drunker than they’d expected.

“I’m asexual,” they said. It always felt like a confession.

And that was wrong, too. You can confess a crime. You admit something damaging to yourself. That’s confessing.

There’s nothing wrong about feeling the way you do. And still, still the hero had to explain it, justify it. Why couldn’t they just feel the way they did?

“I like you. You’re fun,” the hero admitted. “But I don’t want you in that way. I don’t want you sexually.”

The hero knew what would come next.

You haven’t found the right one.

That’s unnatural.

I can fix you.

It was so frustrating by now. They couldn’t blame people for their curiosity. But the hero wanted to blame them for their ignorance.

At this point, they were just tired. It wasn’t something they could let go of. The responses from other people got to them.

“Ah, would you like to go on a date with me? Like romantically? Or platonically if you’re aromantic, too?”

“Sorry?” the hero asked, stunned enough to let out a shaky breath. No one had ever gone into that direction.

“Oh, was that wrong to ask?” The villain looked deeply embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to! I just like you a lot and if cuddling is all you want or just a platonic relationship, then that’s okay for me. I just want something with you. If you’re interested in that.”

The hero was flabbergasted.

“Yeah, let’s do something together,” they answered shakily. “You didn’t say anything wrong. You said the perfect thing, actually.”

[mellowswriting]

wicked

pairing || Adrian Chase x fem!Reader

word count || 4.7k

summary || Adrian finally gives in to temptation and lets you smoke him out. You finally give in to temptation and let him kiss you. 

content || coworkers to friends to lovers, recreational drug use (marijuana), smut (oral, fingering, Adrian constantly running his mouth, unprotected sex, creampie, riding)

a/n || this idea has been rattling around in my head for over a month

Main Masterlist  |  Library Blog 

Working black ops is stressful. You knew to expect that long before you became involved with your little ragtag team of weirdos - but what you weren’t expecting was for your team to become your stress relief, too. See, you went into this whole thing intent on not getting too close. What you do is dangerous work. The idea of getting close to someone only to lose them in such a violent way turns your stomach.

Even so, you couldn’t help but warm up to every single one of them. Economos and Leota were too easy not to befriend. You bonded with Chris over your shared love of music, even though you often argued over the quality of new bands. Even Harcourt became your friend. You often went out together for drinks together after a long day of work.

But Vigilante? The two of you clicked automatically, best buddies from the very start. You team up together on missions so often that Harcourt doesn’t even bother trying to separate you anymore, just to avoid Vig’s whining. There’s no counting the number of times you have patched each other up and passed out in each other’s places after being awake far too long. Soon, stitches and post-debrief catnaps become movie nights and sleepovers, and you've got a somewhat psychotic best friend that you may or may not be completely in love with.

Falling for Adrian was far too easy. He's sweet and boyish and somehow crass and incredibly fucking sexy all at once, a duality you didn't think was even possible. Besides, you aren’t blind. Adrian isn’t exactly conspicuous, to say the least. He stares constantly and you catch him checking out your ass at least twice a day. There's a rabid overprotectiveness that overcomes him whenever you're in even a hint of danger - which is often, considering the line of work you're in. Adrian lingers at your side during debriefs, walks you to your car every night, even offers to clean your guns for you every now and then.

The tension has been rising for weeks now and you can’t deny that you have been wondering who will break first. You don't have to wonder for long. It happens on a random Tuesday, of all days. The little impromptu party that happened in your living room had long since died down. Leota was the first to leave, too eager to get back to Keeya to hang around long, and Economos left not long after. Harcourt and Chris made sure to leave twenty minutes apart - as if they were being clever enough not to tip you off that they were getting together afterward.

That leaves you and Adrian alone together on your couch. It’s familiar, comforting even. Seeing him lounging around your house in his civilian clothes has become so normal that your home feels empty on the rare occasion he isn’t there. He’s always there, chatting up a storm so fast that you can barely get a word in edgewise, but you don’t mind. Listening to him go on and on, seeing him get so animated - it’s all too cute.

Which is why his sudden bout of silence is so fucking weird. “C’mon, Adrian. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’ve told you a ton of weird shit about myself, I’m not really in the position to judge you.”

“I just - I don’t want you to think less of me,” Adrian mumbles, picking at his nails intently. You snag his hand before he can make his fingers bleed and he finally locks eyes with you.

“We’ve done a lot of morally objectionable shit together.” You reassure him with a squeeze of his hand. “Just tell me and we can go from there.”

“I - I was thinking maybe you could show me how to smoke weed.” It comes out in such a rush that you can barely distinguish one word from the next but the second it clicks in your brain, you can’t stop the surprised look on your face. “It’s just that you and Chris have so much fun when you do it, and it’s not like it’s illegal anymore, right? I mean, alcohol was illegal for a while there and we still drink together all the time! So if it isn’t against the law, I don’t see why -”

“Adrian, breathe!” You cut him off before he can go completely red in the face from over-explaining himself. “I would love to.”

Adrian’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Seriously?”

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll smoke you up.” You’re almost giddy with excitement as you hop off the couch and grab the bag you keep tucked underneath your bed. It would be a lie to say you’ve never thought about what Adrian would be like after a few hits, but he’s always been so intense on the subject that you never pushed him on it. Adrian’s leg bounces nervously as you settle in next to him. “Don’t worry, okay? We’re gonna take it easy for your first time and I’ll be here the whole time.”

It isn’t surprising that he’s a quick learner. That first hit sends him into a coughing fit but he takes your advice, watches the way you inhale, and copies your every move. Not even a minute after, Adrian is already needling you about why it’s taking so long, vibrating with an adorable, nervous excitement.

“Just relax, it doesn’t take long.” You chuckle before flicking the bright red cherry off of the half-finished joint, not wanting to get too buzzed so you can keep him on the right track. He needs a distraction before he spirals, so you ask him about those modifications he’s been making to his suit. Adrian lights up. He goes on and on about the various hidden pockets and added protection he has sewn into the black and teal suit.

It’s pretty obvious the moment it kicks in. Those pretty green eyes of his are slightly glazed over, little ‘um’s breaking up every few words, and you find that you were right. He’s somehow even cuter when he’s buzzed. He fumbles for his phone to show you pictures of his suit - even though you saw it less than five hours ago - but it slips through his fingers and clatters to the floor. A burst of giggles bubbles from his mouth.

“Oh,” Adrian says, voice bright with realization. “Wicked.”

“Yeah?” You prompt and nudge his knee with yours.

“I feel like I’m fuckin’ floating.” He mumbles as he melts back into the cushions, blinking all slow and lazy. “God, fuck, it’s too quiet in here. I can hear the tv buzzing, it’s driving me nuts. Gimme your phone. You know, your playlists are way better than mine, which is complete bullshit. That’s gotta be some sort of talent, being able to make perfect playlists. You’re an artist.”

You just scoff and toss him your phone, which he unlocks with a few taps. He squints at your screen like it's brighter than the sun, nudging his glasses up his nose as he searches through your Spotify intently. Indecisive as ever, it takes him a few moments to pick one, but a dopey smile curls his lips when Hozier’s voice whisps away the silence of your apartment. You’re the only person he would ever admit it to, but Adrian actually loves a lot of today’s music. He made you promise never to tell Chris when he willingly turned up a Harry Styles song and screamed along to it on one of your many car rides in the Vigilante-mobile.

“Mm, good choice,” You sigh. The soft, low tones of the music wash over you and you close your eyes to soak it in. It’s easier to let yourself revel in the soft buzz you’ve got going on now that you know he isn’t going to spin out. The couch shifts next to you and you peek one eye open to see Adrian sitting cross-legged, looking at you with that same dopey expression. You give him a soft smile. “What?”

“You’re really pretty all relaxed like this.” He says, trademark in his casualness. Your stomach flips at the ease with which he compliments you, his words ringing with sincerity. “I mean, you’re pretty all the time - especially when we’re on a mission. Have I told you that? You look so fucking hot with a gun in your hand but when you’re all relaxed and happy and smiling, you’re, like, a thousand times prettier.”

Heat rushes through you and you shift in your seat, murmuring a quiet, “Adrian…”

“Plus these little shorts look so soft and comfortable. You look so soft and comfortable. Fuck, is this what getting high is always like?” Adrian’s fingertips glide along the hem of the pajama shorts you threw on once everyone else left and you feel like you’re going to die if he keeps this up. He’s just too cute. Your already waning inhibitions disappear under his touch and there’s nothing to stop the mischievous idea that takes hold of you.

You pluck the half-finished joint from the coffee table and wave it dramatically in front of his face. “Wanna shotgun it?”

“Seriously?” Adrian sits straight up. Eagerness burns away some of the dazed look from his eyes. “Wait, that’s like kissing, right? Like, I get to kiss you and inhale the smoke out of your mouth? Not some weird shit with an actual shotgun, because I don’t have one with me right now.”  

“You’re right, it is like kissing.” You chuckle, pleasantly surprised that you don’t have to explain it to him. That little voice of reason that always held you back from giving in to the temptation of Adrian Chase is strangely absent from your mind. It doesn’t matter that he’s your coworker, that he’s your best friend, that this could really complicate things with your already complicated job. All that matters is finally giving the both of you what you so rightly deserve, what you both have been craving for so long - each other. You reach out to brush an errant curl from his forehead. “Do you want to kiss me, Adrian?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He replies without hesitation.

Warmth burns through your body as you sit up, your knees pressing against his thigh as you try to focus on lighting the joint - not on the anticipation that rolls in your belly. Adrian stares up at you intently, something you have never quite gotten used to. All his claims about not having feelings are complete and total bullshit. You can tell just by the affection that burns in his eyes that he is just as susceptible to getting swept up in the whirlwind of love as the rest of you are. His intense gaze drops to your lips as they wrap around the joint and pull a long inhale, one that threatens to make your lungs seize if you aren’t careful. You lean back and drop the joint into the ashtray on your table.

The light press of your thumb against his chin draws his attention back up to your eyes. He lets you tilt his head back just slightly and you exhale slowly, your lips brushing his as he draws in the smoke from your mouth. The air between you sizzles with electricity, your eyes locked with his as he holds the smoke in his lungs just like you taught him to. It’s the little whimper he gives that draws you in again for a real kiss, your hand cradling his jaw as your tongue teases a small taste of him. Wisps of smoke escape him as he parts his lips and deepens the kiss, a broken sound bubbling against your lips when his tongue touches yours.

Adrian finally breaks.

Those hands you have been fantasizing about forever snag at your waist and pull you into his lap with an ease that has you shivering. The little show of strength only makes you ache for him that much more as the pleasant warmth of your high ignites into something sharper, something needier. You melt into him as he licks into your mouth with a low moan and drags you impossibly closer, his grip on you tightening with every little sound he pulls from you. It’s sloppy and desperate and everything you have been dreaming of. It isn’t until your lungs scream for air that you finally break away from him.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” He whispers reverently, his hands greedily massaging your bare thighs. “Like vanilla. Is that chapstick or some shit? So good, like a cupcake.”

“Yeah, it’s chapstick, you weirdo.” You huff with a laugh. The methodic squeezing of his exploring hands is so distracting that you barely notice the pout your teasing earns you. Adrian looks like a dream like this, all wide eyes and spit slick lips. Your thumb drags over his bottom lip indulgently. “You’re really good at that, pretty boy.”

And just like that, it’s as if you never teased him to begin with. Adrian fucking melts for you, something needy and hungry cracking open in his chest. One of his hands abandons its exploration of your thigh to cradle the side of your neck, his thumb stroking back and forth along your jaw. “Let me do it again. Fuck, let me do everything, anything you want -”

Adrian cuts himself off by kissing you. He finally has you right where he wants you, willing prey trapped in his grasp as he memorizes your taste and scent and every curve of your body. He can’t decide if he wants to bury his hands in your hair or grab fistfuls of your ass, or if he should kiss your lips or the tempting line of your throat. The opportunities are endless and it makes his already frayed mind go haywire. You cry out his name when he nibbles at your pulse point and pride sings in his veins. You’re the smartest woman he knows, quick-witted and great in a fight - and he’s managed to turn you into a mewling mess with a few kisses.

“Please I - fuck!” You gasp as his teeth dig harder into the corded muscle of your neck - hard enough to leave a pretty bruise where everyone will see. Your fingers tangle in his curls and yank him away, and for a horrible second, Adrian thinks he’s crossed a line. The desperation in your voice soothes his worries. “I need you so bad, I swear to god I’m gonna explode if you don’t fuck me.”

“Holy fucking shit, you sound so pretty when you beg. I could blow my load just listening to you.” Adrian grits out through clenched teeth. You’ve gone all mindless with need, just whispering little pleas as you press soft kisses along his jaw. The thin fabric of your shorts almost tears as he shoves his hand down the front of them. “You’re so wet, baby. I’m gonna drown myself in your pussy.”

Fuck, he’s got a filthy mouth. Even as his fingers delve into your slick cunt, he runs his mouth; half-finished sentences break off in the middle only to be replaced with another thought destined to go unfinished. You can’t focus on any of that, though, not with the sparks his touch ignites across your skin as he explores you. He begs you to let him eat you out, honeyed words falling from sin slick lips, and the second you whisper a rough ‘fuck yes’, you find yourself being manhandled off of his lap. Adrian presses you back against the cushions and rips your shorts and underwear down your thighs, tossing them to the floor as if being in the way of your drenched cunt is a crime against humanity.

“I always knew you would have a pretty pussy,” Adrian says so matter of factly - as if those words don’t send a flush of embarrassed heat flushing up to your cheeks. He pulls your thighs up onto his shoulders, his gaze shimmering with lust as he studies you intently, and you can’t help but squirm in his firm grip. “So needy, huh? Gotta tell me, baby, tell me what you need and I’ll give you everything -”

His hair feels like silk between your fingers as you pet his curls back from his forehead and his rambling stutters to a stop. “Adrian, honey?”

“Yeah?” He whispers.

“I need you to eat me out.” You ask, sweet as honey, and Adrian practically melts for you. He tugs you down a little further by your thighs and doesn’t hesitate for a second. He looks too damn handsome like this - chest heaving with excited breaths, crooked glasses, excitement dancing across his features - but you don’t have long to appreciate it. The moment the wet heat of his tongue teases your clit, your eyes flutter closed and your mind shuts off. The rest of the world disappears - every worry, every stress, every fear falls away under the pleasure invading your senses. “Oh, Adrian.”

Just the sound of you moaning his name is enough to spur him on. He’s imagined it so many times - mostly when he’s jerking off in the shower or watching you handle a gun. The real thing is so much better. You are artwork he has been given the gift of touching with his bare hands and he never wants to stop. He wants everything you have to give and more, every inch of your body, every sweet word you speak, all of it. For now, though? Adrian settles for making you cry out his name over and over again.

The flat of his tongue circles your clit in steady swirls that have your back arching into him, greedily seeking more of his touch. Two fingers dip into your cunt, a tease of the stimulation you chase after, and before you can beg him to just fucking do it already, he sinks them down to the knuckle. The warm, hazy pleasure sharpens, twists into something more animal and aching as he curls his fingers up against the sensitive spot that makes your thighs tremble. You could smack him for ever even joking about being a bad lay - it takes a special kind of man to have you so fucked out of your mind that you can barely open your eyes.

You grind against his face mindlessly, already hurtling toward a devastating orgasm, and Adrian can’t stop himself from smiling at you. It’s fucking filthy to see that cocky little smirk while his face is buried between your thighs and you just know he’s never going to let this go. The suction of his lips envelops your clit and your nails dig into the fabric of the couch, your thighs nearly crushing Adrian’s head as you careen closer to that inevitable edge - but he doesn’t mind. He could die a happy man between those plush thighs.

A choked curse barely manages to pass your lips before molten hot pleasure bursts through your belly, sparks skittering up your spine as your body spasms. It’s debilitating as Adrian keeps going, tongue slowly laving against your clit as his fingers slow to a gentle roll. You squirm and jerk in his hold, not quite willing to give up the sensation of his mouth against you, all while broken praise falls from your lips.

“Perfect, that was - holy fuck, you’re perfect.” Your fingers loosen the tight grip on his hair and rub his head affectionately, a wordless apology for pulling so hard. Adrian soothes your overworked nerves with the burning heat of his tongue, gentle licks and sucks that have you trembling. It’s quite an effort to unclench your thighs from around his head and Adrian whines, entirely put out by the mere idea of leaving your drenched cunt. “Fuck, Adrian, fucking kiss me.”

That perks him up. Adrian presses a wet kiss low on your belly before he drags himself up your body to kiss your lips. His chin is slick and you can taste yourself on his tongue, and the obscenity of it makes you shiver. You smile against his lips, a pleasure-drunk little grin that makes him smile, too.

“I made you cum.” He chirps, pride bright in his eyes as he studies your wrecked state. He nips your jaw playfully. “I wanna do it again. Please? We can go to your bed so you’re more comfortable. This can’t be good for you back. Or! Or you could, uh, sit on my face. I just wanna make you cum on my face, however you want.”

“Next time,” You promise with a breathless laugh. Adrian whines again, a dismayed sound that threatens to make you change your mind right then and there. The hard press of his cock against your thigh keeps your one-track mind running, though. All you can think of is finally - finally - sinking onto his cock and feeling that perfect stretch that you have been aching for. Your thumb brushes over that sweet spot behind his ear and he leans into the touch, watching you with a needy expression that just begs you to give in.

Instead of giving in to the temptation of his puppy dog eyes, you let your fingers drift over the bulge in his jeans and revel in the sight of his jaw going slack. He grinds against your hand, burying his face into your chest with a low, ‘oh’. It seems to dawn on him just then that you’re still wearing a shirt - and that just won’t do. Adrian pushes your shirt up until you catch on and help him pull it completely off, and you swear you’ve never seen him move so fast. He cups your breasts with a reverently gentle touch, far softer than you thought him capable of. All it takes is a low sound vibrating through you for Adrian to step it up a notch and wrap his lips around your pert nipple.

It devolves from there into something mindlessly horny, the two of you grinding and groping like it’s the last chance you’ll ever have. It isn’t until you finally unzip his jeans that Adrian pulls away from you, albeit begrudgingly, to tear his clothes off and haul you into his lap - right where this entire tryst began, just with fewer clothes in the way. He’s all toned muscle and freckled skin and you just know you will never be able to get enough. You lean up on your knees and Adrian makes a helpless noise with your chest so close to his face. The wet heat of his mouth envelops your nipple once more, his eyes rolling up to look at you when you rock along the length of his cock.

Adrian mutters a muffled ‘please’, a sound so sweet you could never refuse. The sheer size of him is enough to have you shivering in delight as you sink onto his cock. Thimble. Complete fucking bullshit. Adrian’s fingers seize your hips in a tight grip and his head falls back against the cushions, eyes unfocused as he tries to resist fucking up into you. You’re still so sensitive from his talented mouth and fingers - the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He huffs out a broken whisper that almost sounds like your name and despite the need coursing through your veins, you chuckle.

You finally have him speechless.

The first roll of your hips makes you both spit out curses. You’ve always imagined your first time with Adrian to be something soft, something easy, but the claws of lust have ensnared you both into a rabid, animal hunger neither of you can resist. A glint burns in his eyes the moment you jerk in his lap, his head tilting and eyebrows raising in a silent ask for permission. You barely manage a nod before he flashes you that boyish grin you fell for all those months ago. Adrian drags you into a harsh pace, bracing his thighs to fuck up into you. It hurts so fucking good - the harsh dig of his fingertips into your hipbones, the grinding of his cock against that sweet spot he already abused with his fingers, the blunt drag of his teeth along your collarbone.

One particularly rough thrust upward sends you off balance, a yelp tearing its way up your throat as you fall forward into his chest - and Adrian laughs. The little fucker laughs, his pace never faltering as he fucks you like it’s his last night on earth. His brain must have finally come back online, no longer buffering at the feeling of your hot cunt around his cock, and that mischievous look you love has returned.

“Fucked you stupid already?” He teases, voice choppy thanks to his rough thrusts. You can barely scoff at his smug attitude - because he’s right. All your mind can focus on is the warm rush of arousal humming through your body, stoked higher and higher with every roll of your hips. “You’re mine, aren’t ya? All mine to touch and fuck and love - fuck! You were made to take my cock. Perfect fucking pussy…”

“T-touch me, baby, please.” You guide his hand down between your legs and Adrian doesn’t pause for a millisecond. Those talented fingers glide through your cunt and zero in on your clit, rubbing rough circles into your still sensitive flesh. The sound that comes out of you is almost unrecognizable, a pornographic cry of ‘yes!’ that makes Adrian go even crazier. He watches with rapt attention as you grind into his touch, already addicted to how impossibly hot you look chasing after your high with his body.

The crest of your second orgasm hits so hard that tears spring into your eyes. Your nails dig into his shoulder as pleasure twists through your belly, leaving crescent moon marks on his pale skin. A wrecked sound falls from his lips and Adrian spits more jumbled, filthy praise about how good you feel cumming on his cock. You have to wrench his hand from between your thighs before he can make those tears fall, even though you know he would love to see it. He’s already cocky enough.

“That’s my girl.” Adrian groans, his pace falling into a sloppy, desperate race to the finish line. All it takes is the feeling of your mouth latching onto his neck, your teeth and tongue working in tandem to leave a few more marks for him to remember you by. His hips stutter and he holds you down on his cock, grinding up into you to push his cum as deep as he can.

“Holy shit.” He croaks after a moment’s quiet.

“Yeah,” You breathlessly agree.

A comfortable silence falls over the room. All you can hear are his steady breaths, the slowing of his heartbeat as he calms down. His warm palms slide up and down your back, a soothing gesture that has you melting into him even more, boneless and weak in the aftermath. It’s impossible not to ache for more of him; more kisses, more fleeting sweet touches, more kitten licks against your soft skin. Adrian notices. Of course, he does. He notices everything about you, he has from the very start. So he presses a kiss to your temple and another to your cheek before he even reaches your mouth, all too eager to give you everything you want and more.

It’s slow and sloppy, soaked in indulgence. It’s everything you have been dreaming of and more. It takes a moment for your body to cooperate but eventually, you manage to sit up and stretch your aching back. Adrian hums a dismayed little sound at the loss of your warmth but still smiles at you nonetheless, all sleepy and sated. His hair is a mess, glasses askew, cheeks still red from the exertion of fucking you so thoroughly.

You push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Tired?”

“Actually, I’m fucking starving.” Adrian’s eyes light up. “Wanna order Chinese food? That place over on Hawthorne is still open and they have eggrolls that make my dick hard, they’re so good.”

“Sure, Adrian.” You chuckle. “But you have to get dressed for they show up. Flashing is a crime, remember?”

“Aw, man.”

[dailyadventureprompts]

Drafting the Adventure: Dungeons, an Introduction. 

For a long time now I’ve been wanting to share my advice on how to build dungeons but after months of trying to turn the knowledge I'd collected on the subject into a distinct methodology I’ve realized that there’s just too much for it to fit into a single post. Even beyond how diverse they are in terms of layout and underlying theme, the mechanical gameplay purpose that dungeons serve have a huge impact on how they’re built/designed, meaning any “ how to build a dungeon” checklist would need to be able to account for far too many options. 

Instead I’m going to do a series of posts, developing the idea of dungeons layer by later, focusing on specific topics and design goals which you can then pick and choose from when building your own player vexing labyrinths. 

Today we’re going to start with how to best use dungeons in your adventure, which I think is a topic that doesn’t get talked about enough. When I started DMing I heard a piece of advice that there should be atleast three dungeons per settlement the party visited, which led to me doing a lot of extra work creating caves, castles, and ruins that my party never ended up visiting.  I didn’t really know how to include them in my stories and my players didn’t want to be sidetracked from the story they were experiencing to risk dying in a hole. 

The problem is that dungeons are so ubiquitous that they’re in the name of the game, most players who get into the hobby have at least a general idea of what a dungeon is “supposed to be”, and DMs feel obligated to include them despite not knowing how to employ them for best effect. Much like a fight scene or a loredump or a big villain reveal, there’s a specific time and place to employ dungeons in your campaign for maximum benefit, leading into the tempo of your campaign rather than breaking it for some smash and grab archeology. 

Below the cut I’m going to go in depth on story structure and how dungeons can fit into this, but right now I’m going to give you a simple tip that you should keep in mind as we go forwards: Dungeons come in about three sizes and these sizes determine how they fit into your campaign. 

Plot relevant dungeons: These are the smallest type, effectively consisting of a few challenges between the party and their plot relevant objective. They’re made to use the idea of a “dungeon” to funnel the party through a specific high stakes gauntlet that might have a few branches but always leads to where the story needs them to go. 

Sideshow Dungeons: Small to Medium in size this type of dungeon provides the party a hack n slash/puzzlesilving pallet cleanser from the drama of the campaign to be completed in one or two sessions. or they can serve as set ups storybeats to follow up on once the party gets back to town. I call these sideshow dungeons because they are best employed as something your players can “opt in” to of their own volition, rather than something the plot makes mandatory. 

 Exploration Dungeons: Medium to large in size These dungeons are entire adventures unto themselves, and will likely have the party circling back to town multiple times to rest up and resupply before heading back to their delve. Dungeons of this type tend to be more intricate and sprawling than the others, hosting challenges across interconnected levels that reward players for keeping a map. 

Trying to use one of these sorts of dungeons when another type is called for risks breaking the momentum of your game and worse yet forcing you to do a lot of work for an inconsistent amount of reward. 

What IS a dungeon?  As I mentioned before, dungeons are sort of ubiquitous to gaming as a whole, and while the current DMG gives us an idea what a dungeon looks like, it’s sparingly brief on what a dungeon is in terms of game design. 

Dungeons are a series of encounters and challenges blocked off from the world so that the players have to face them in a certain order. You as the DM can’t predict how the party is going to act in each instance, but the structure of these encounters lets you build in interesting mechanics and set pieces. 

Dungeons have a goal which determines their shape: this is most evident in the case of plot relevant dungeons, where a party might say, be trying to stealth through a fortress to rescue an important NPC and have to be quick and clever enough to avoid raising the alarm or else risk having to fight the whole garrison and imperiling their hostage. In the case of more open ended, or exploration based dungeons, the challenges tend to revolve around navigation: forcing the party to brave the unknown while finding shortcuts around hazards that imperil their progress.  

Dungeons are areas high risk, high reward: D&D characters are made to get into fights and usually have enough of a reserve to handle a couple of skirmishes per day. dungeons are where you put your party’s abilities to the test, throwing them against escalating hurdles with the temptation of greater and greater prizes as a reward. On that note, dungeons should be chock full of rewards, which will make your party want to push forward and brave whatever horrors their dm has planned. 

Dungeons are Mysterious: This might seem like it’s surface level at first, but the whole reason characters in d&d are called “adventurers” is because there is something essential to being human in our desire to explore the unknown. Dungeons are secret places removed from the world, filled with the unexpected and hints at a dramatic past. A dungeon without mystery might as well be a series of fights in a succession of rooms, a purely mechanical exercise forgotten about as soon as your players receive their numerically mandated loot drop. 

With these in mind we can begin to think about actually constructing our dungeon. I’m going to leave my tricks on designing a layout to another post, but for the time being, let me give you my rubric for how many encounters you should be putting into your dungeons: Since the average party can handle 5-8 encounters between long rests, the indicator of a dungeon’s size is how many of those rests it will take for them to get to their goal and back out again.   Also notice that I said “encounter” not “combat”, as there are plenty of other sorts of challenges that can drain a party’s resources that don’t require rolling imitative. This includes a majority of small scale combats against enemies that can be cleaned up in a couple rounds, representing enemy patrols, random encounters, or incidental foes faced along the way to greater challenges.  Likewise, this introduces the idea that smaller dungeons might take up half a rest’s worth of encounters, especially if the adventure surrounding it is busy enough. 

[lavyeilustra]

uh,,, hello It's been a while since I posted anything here, right, nothing more fair than me coming back with a post about my hyperfixation i guess so IT’S DESI!RAVEN TIME! (long post sorry) After all, for Raven have Indian descent it is necessary for at least one of her parents to be, and as her father is a literal four-eyed red intergalactic demon, this role is left for our dear Arella! Congratulations honey!  💘 I've been picturing Arella with a darker skin tone, like people from southern India. Black hair, of course, but much curlier than her daughter's. and blue eyes, like the character has in the comics. I liked this composition that I got here. I tried to give mother and daughter the same gaze. I won't go further that part too much now, but in my HC, Azarath is also a dimension initially formed by a group of desi culture that changed over time, but the bases remain the same (that's why Raven is so familiar with the culture even without having been on earth before meeting the titans), thinking about it, i decided to find a middle ground between arella's headpiece and a matha patti, but in the end it was just a poorly made matha patti because by then i was tired of drawing. I swear that when I make an "official" drawing I'll work on it more

As for Raven, I wanted to make her skin lighter and paler than her mother's. Lighter cause technically Raven is mixed, the human form Trigon used during her conception was that of a white caucasian male, so it makes sense for her to have lighter skin (or am I making this up?) 

ugly ass bitch And paler because this girl has never seen a ray of sunshine in her life, she stays all day locked in her room meditating. So I put a grayish pallor in a light brown tone (but none of that horrible gray skin from the current cartoon and comics, please, I have good taste) I was going to make her eyes blue like Arella's, but I'm very attached to the lilac-eyed Raven, it suits her so much! Two things the post-TNTT comics gave her that I can't let go of: her eyes and those little horns on her eyebrows. Ok, I think that's all I had to say, this drawing I did just to test the skin tones, so it's not that pretty, but I liked the final result and I enjoyed doing it, I discovered a cool way to paint skin! :) Thoughts? opinions? Claims? You can send! I love reading your comments, I keep going to each blog to see the tags you put in  🤭🤭🤭 And I was very happy to see that some real desi people liked the drawing! Means a lot to me! If I am ever disrespectful, please correct me. I'm just an admirer of the culture and I try to research as much as possible before posting anything, but if I happen to offend someone, let me know. Byee, see y’all in the next six months probaly lol