#swapping stories around the campfire
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Postcards from Snagglepuss
Look what turned up on Okoboji's waters!
ON WEST LAKE OKOBOJI, IOWA: Sunset ... that wonderfully fascinating moment when what you'd likely want to do is light the fire pit out back, sit beside the lake and swap all manner of stories for God-knows-how long into the night. Maybe adding a few s'mores into the mix of excitement.
Even if they happen to be diving stories that involve a rather interesting lupine trio of divers ... and for some reason this particular evening, a lion and a hyaena.
"Am I too late for the party?" asked Lippy the Lion in that Joe E. Brown inflection of his.
"LIPPY?!! HARDY?!!!" (That was our entire company, chiming away at the sight of the pair.)
Which had Hardy responding "Oh me ... oh my ... were we likely given the wrong directions by chance?" To which Huckleberry Hound and I set out a couple more lawn chairs for our surprise guests and gave them much welcome.
"Has anybody ever mentioned," Lippy observed, "where this particular lion has actually developed something of a fondness for the diving sensation?" To which Mildew Wolf, ever the master of snark, rejoindered, "Who wouldn't among lions generally?"
Which brought out the laughs, inevitably.
Lippy, continuing: "I would have to acknowledge that one time where Hardy and I were trying to find sunken treasure, off Florida I believe it was, guided by a rather cheesy-looking map ... and for some reason, some shark took more interest in the treasure than we did--or at least tried to!"
"But even then," Hardy added in that myopic tone of his, "the diving was basically breath-hold more than anything ... and trying to lift up quite the treasure haul in our condition amounted to the rather Sisyphean!"
"But at least the experience was something of a learning curve," Loopy De Loop was quick to chime in.
"It was, Loopy," Lippy was quick to add. "In learning to appreciate diving as a rather interesting sort of sport!"
Which saw Ding-a-Ling, Hokey Wolf's boon compadre, relate how he discovered diving: By way of a lupine summer camp up among the Boundary Waters of northern Minnesota, taking up a challenge by a rather brash young camper wanting to know how deep the lake really was. And for some reason, "there was this camp counsellor who felt, considering my background, that maybe diving would be a rather worthwhile distraction from what amounted to a dysfunctional background."
"Which is where yours truly came into the equation!" chimed in Hokey Wolf. "And in time, we of the lupine persuasion, on the sidelines you might say, of a Character Convocation felt that we could do the legendary sea wolf one better, being quite the pack of wolves as were fond of diving!"
"I take it," asked I, "you mean Loopy, Mildew and yourself."
"Who else, Snagglepuss?!" was how Hokey responded. "And what fascinating escapades we certainly have underwater whenever the opportunity presents!"
And you can just imagine how it was bound to continue well into an Iowa evening's warmth....
*************
@warnerbrosentertainment @joey-gatorman @ultrakeencollectionbreadfan @dweeeeeb @funtasticworld @iheartgod175 @passionateclown @artistic-octopus @archive-archives @hanna-barbera-blog @thylordshipofbutts @thebigdingle @hanna-barberians @themineralyoucrave @screamingtoosoftly @hanna-barbera-land @warnerbros-blog1 @aquablock68 @multi-fandom-girl-451 @groovybribri @xdiver71 @warnerbrosent-blog
#hanna barbera#fanfic#fanfiction#postcards from snagglepuss#road trip experience#huckleberry hound#loopy de loop#hokey wolf#mildew wolf#surprise visitors#lippy the lion and hardy har har#okoboji#swapping stories around the campfire#hannabarberaforever
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Alright são João is getting closer and closer and I'm very excited!!!😊 can't wait to eat delicious corn and make fire!🎉🔥
-🥝 anon
AAAA WAIT I HOPE I DIDNT MISS IT
I love corn and I love fire, there's just something about it
And the smell is pretty nostalgic
#who used to swap stories around a campfire#or still does#goos times#kiwi anon#id love to hear more about this btw!
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Okay having more thoughts abt a cowboy sorta au like
Dawn Winery being a ranch that sb rolls up to for lodging or a job or smth, Kae still lingering there in spite of Conflict due to Adelinde’s insistence but chooses to act like one of the other workers than rlly act as part of the fam-
#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//Addie & Kae having a running thing of her tryna convince him to consider marriage bc he keeps planning on leaving#//But she wants him to not be lonely; and BOY does it get lonely out there without a friend to come along and Luc’s the only friend Kae’s#rlly had before; but the man ain’t interested in leaving (is still playing Darknight hero vigilante lawman)#//So they compromise on the form of Kae sticking around#//Abd continuously avoiding suitors who drop by either for business or temporary lodging bc he challenges them to a shooting contest#//Offering his hand to whoever can best him (ain’t nobody done so yet); a trinket or two if they can’t#//So he gets to hoard lil mementos of those suitors but also his glimpses of the outside world he wants to roam#//But at most kinda makes do with roaming Los Terrenos late at night in night watch he’d take up#//Up until he meets that sb who rolls up and actually catches his eye bc they are more interested in keeping company on those late nights#by laughing & swapping stories around the campfire and stargazing than actively pursuing him#//Charming & genuinely getting to know him; no matter how he flirts & schmoozes them to try get them to break resolve & propose so he can#challenge them & thus be done with them (he’s so scared of how fast he’s getting attached; thinks they might break his heart or worse)#//But when they finally do spring the question; it’s not phrased as marriage; rather an offer to run away together & explore the frontier#//Offering to take him everywhere they’d spoken of; everywhere Kae’s ever dreamed of seeing#//And he can’t help but want to concede; bc FINALLY someone’s listened to him and his dream#//FINALLY; someone who wants him for him; and not what he has to offer with his ties to the fam#//Bonus if they’ve bounced ideas of starting up their own little place somewhere; by their own efforts and mettle#//Finding a lil patch of what could be their new home and MAKE it their own#//Aaand I am rambling lmao#//Yknow what; maybe I should do this as a fic instead jdbfb#//or a ramblings with friends hdbfb#//It v slowburn lololol
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Crawling Back to You
(Part Two of First Love/Late Spring)
A/N: So like, I’m really excited that you guys seem to be digging this story. I was hesitant about it just because there’s so much of my own Na’vi/Metkayina lore thrown in there. Thank you for all of the kind response.
Word Count: 8k+
Warnings: From here on out, this story will be extremely explicit. Minors DNI. If Aged Up! Neteyam isn’t your thing, please exit to your left. Let’s all respect each other's boundaries, please.
Angst. Self deprecation. Alcohol consumption. Smut. Mutual masturbation. Fingering(fem receiving). Nipple sucking. Breeding kink. Scent marking. Public sex(if you squinttttt)
Summary: Neteyam returns from his Motnaui and isn’t in much of a celebratory mood when he realizes that he’s scrapped any chance of having a mate for Fertility season…or has he? Neteyam x Reader
Series Masterlist(all parts can be found here)
Previous< First Love/Late Spring
Next>: Bottom of the Deep Blue Sea
Secret's that I’ve held in my heart
Are harder to hide then I thought.
Maybe I just wanna be yours- Artic Monkeys
The brilliant Pandoran sun beats down on the crystal blue waters, fragmenting into bursts of light under the surface of the waves.
The Motnaui is intense, Neteyam’s lean frame isn't made for the open ocean but over the months as he trained intensely with the Metkayina hunters, he gained muscle he didn't even realize his body could retain.
His shoulders are broader and thighs thicker. He can keep up with the clan, he can help row the boats without his arms giving out on him.
Neteyam hasn't felt this way since they had fled the safety of the forest. He’s useful again. He’s worked hard to regain his title of Hunter.
Warrior.
Brother of the people.
He sense’s it as they jump between the endless maze of isles. Hunting and sleeping on the beaches under the open night sky. Swapping stories around the small campfires.
They don't see him as an outsider anymore. No, he is Metkayina. All of the hunters treat him as such. Clapping his back. Embracing him tight. Sharing in the whopping joy as he makes a clean, merciful kill.
They listen to the Omaticayan legends he tells the and fill him in on the lore of the sea.
The four days out at open ocean are needed and he feels sure footed now. Knows that he will always have a place in Awa’atlu. He can't wait for Lo’ak to complete his Iknamaya next cycle, to get to feel this feeling of deep belonging. Of acceptance.
The tattoo forever etched into the the skin on his on his shoulder burns. Throbs all the way down his elbow, ends right above his wrist. The permanent swirling ink a symbol of his place among the reef.
His third birth is as beautiful as his second. He is a man, twice recognized.
Neteyam reminds himself of that fact as he sits down next to Tonowari one night. The stars are sparkling and the dimming light of the dying fire makes the hulking chief look larger than life.
Still, the younger man gathers his courage.
“I wish to mate with Y/N” Neteyam states firmly. He had been Olo’eyktan in training for over a decade back in the forest. He uses the voice he’d take on when speaking of important matters “I would like your blessing to do so, sir”
Their brothers and sisters in the hunt surround them. Either asleep at the late hour or lost to their own conversations.
Or maybe they just know not to interrupt this important exchange. They only listen in with peaked ears and envious hearts.
Tonowari’s features go stern, his strong brows pulling together “Before my T’smuke returned to the great mother, I promised her that I would always take care of her daughter as though she was my own. I love Y/N as I do my children. Do you understand that, Neteyam?”
Neteyam is nodding “Yes sir, of course”
“She is a good woman. A very important member of our community, if I allow this courtship I have to be certain that you will honor that. That you will honor her place among us, and be serious about what that means for your own”
Neteyam mules over the words, thinks he knows what they mean. He will be marrying into the royal family of the Metkayina. He will be bound by blood to the clans chief. His future children will have a claim to the title of Olo’eyktan or Tshaik, third in line should anything ever happen.
“I am very serious about her, I will work hard to give her all that she deserves. I will build us a Mauri to raise our family in. I will dedicate my life to her and the tribe” It is not a vow lightly made, Neteyam knows this.
He had never been one to be fickle about responsibility.
It’s only when the intense expression on the Olo’eyktans face shifts, a broad smile stretching across his mouth, that Neteyam feels his posture untense.
Tonowari claps him hard on the back and offers him the leather flask of strong liquor that the hunters pass amongst themselves-
“Then you have my blessing” Tonowari laughs as the younger Na’vi man almost chokes on the burn of the Kava.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
When they return to the main island of Awa’atlu with their abundant catch they are greeted warmly by the clan. The giant horns are blown, drums play rhythmically. Children scream joyously and women dance scantly clad in ceremonial drab.
Its busy and blustering but there's only one thing on Neteyam's mind.
Only one person.
The same woman who had plagued him since his arrival all those months ago. You’re as elusive as the receding tide and he had become accustomed to having to look for you. To having to seek you out in a crowd, to go searching for you.
You hadn't seen him off and he hasn't spoken to you in many days. He misses you. It's an ache that he wants to soon remedy, that he knows he’ll never have to feel again. Not with Tonowari’s blessing fueling him.
Since he was young, Neteyam had wanted to be bonded.
He’d dreamt of sharing that special connection with another individual; the way that his parents did. He craved someone to cherish him, to take care of him and in return he’d do the same for them. He itched for a woman to braid his hair, to bear his children. To bury his cock in every night and wake up to every morning.
He was a simple man with a big heart and a lot of love to give. And he wanted to give it to you.
He just has to find you first.
Neteyam tries not to worry when he can't catch sight of your petite frame. Not one peek of your long hair or seafoam eyes. He couldn't scent the natural perfume of florally herbs that always seemed to surround you-
“Neteyam!” It’s Tuk.
She collides with him hard. Many years of being a climbing post for his siblings is the only reason he doesn't topple over. Is able to catch her mid air and hold her to his chest.
He’s greeted by his family-
And only a moment passes before he can notice that something is wrong.
It’s written all over Kiri’s face. In his mothers expressive eyes and the glances his father throws him as he embraces the Olo’eyktan from across the way. Even Lo’ak gives him something akin to a small glare.
“Whatever is going on, it will have to wait” Neteyam decides out loud, slowly lowering his baby sister to the ground. “I need to find Y/N, have any of you seen her?”
Kiri’s mouth opens and shuts, as though she’s trying to figure out what to say and it frays his nerves. His legs are antsy, burning with the need to run. To seek you out- still on the high of the hunt.
“I don't have time for this-”
“Brother, wait. It is about Y/N” Kiri grabs his elbow, keeping him still.
He doesn't like her tone.
Likes the expression on her face even less. She looks too serious, it doesn't suit her at all. Kiri had always been as airy as a tree sprite- carefree and bubbly.
Call it a gut feeling or the simple ability to read the room. He just knows whatever she’s about to tell him isnt going to be pleasant.
“What happened?”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
His sister pulls him aside, into the mangrove tree’s and away from prying eyes and ears so that she can relay what she’d heard. Fill Neteyam in on what he’s missed.
He listens to every word…and they settle like stones in his stomach.
“Y/N thinks that you have accepted an offer of courtship from another woman”
“I didn't- I’d never!” Neteyam hisses in protest, shaking his head. It’s all one big misunderstanding. He has to make find you, shake these thoughts out of your head. Make you see-
“But you did,” Kiri replies firmly, her mouth pulled into a grim line.
She explains the meaning of the Lei’s.
The gravity of him accepting one from another female and Neteyam hasn't felt so small in many years. He’d been forced into adulthood early. Taken care of his siblings from a young age and then was thrust into the war with the RDA before he had even fully come out of adolescence. He was wise beyond his years, that’s what everyone had always told him.
He doesn’t feel that way now.
He’d fucked up, made a mistake that could very well cost him the future that he had worked so hard to secure since coming to the reefs-
And he hadn't even meant to! He’d been as naive as a baby, as ignorant to Metkayina traditions as an untrained child-
He wants to scream in frustration. Wants to kick the absolute shit out of himself. Instead he listens to his sister, his hands shaking as he balls them into fists.
You had been devastated. Heart broken. Wouldn't talk to anyone or come out to eat. Couldn’t stop crying-
“Enough” He pleads, he can't hear anymore of it. Guilt rises in his chest like bile.
Imagining what the last days had been like for you as he’d spend them having the time of his life, galivanting with other hunters. Getting drunk and having carefree fun-
“Kiri, what do I do?”
She sighs. It’s so rare to see her older brother like this. He’s always so solid. So strong and stable. It’s unnerving when he loses his composure. When his carefully built walls come down
She had known that the whole thing was a miscommunication and had tried along with Tsireya to convince you of that fact. But you wouldn't hear it, and avoided her at every turn.
You and her brother are both such stubborn dumb asses. Rubbing at her temples Kiri prays to Eywa for strength. Sully’s stick together.
“We fix this”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
As the evening eclipse starts and the sun disappears in the sherbert sky the beach lights up.
Bonfires roar, their flames tall and burning bright.
The air is filled with the smell of roasting Paokpak(island boar) and fish. Huge pots full of dishes that Neteyam had never seen line the long wooden table set up at the center of the celebration. Barrels of Kava have been brought out. The strongest of Metkayina liquors, brewed and stored for decades in airtight containers. Made from berries that are extremely hard to harvest.
This is a time for celebration, to gorge on the hard earned harvests the hunters have brought back. To celebrate the newly rited adults and prepare for the Fertility Season.
The beat of the drums is hypnotic. It's sexy and primal. It's a tune that all Na’vi know in their chest, one that their hips move to as if of their own accord.
Children play, Women sing, stories older then the briny deep are told. The air is electric; so full of magic and unity.
And yet, Neteyam is on edge.
He had been since his rude awakening earlier in the day. He’d spent his afternoon running around like an Austrapede with its head chopped off. Desperately trying to solve the issues that he hadn't meant to create.
After hunting down the culprit to all of this mess, a pretty lei made up of sunset orange lilies which he’d given to Tuk almost automatically after it’d been given to him, he returns it to its owner.
Seychelle is haughty. Rightly upset and shrilly confused as she takes the token of her affections back. Neteyam’s apology is poor and he knows it, he backs away before she can throw her drink in his face.
Tsireya had told him this was the only way to remedy the issue- to refuse the offer for courtship so that he could be open to be with another. The younger girl had been so relieved when he came to her, begging her to help him win back your affections.
“I knew you are a good man, that you don't have a mean spirit”
Tsireya is as eager as Neteyam to see her cousin happy. She doesn't think she could spend another night listening to your inconsolable weeping.
The last obstacle is the hardest.
You refuse to be anywhere near him. Are forced into the festivities because of your family standing, but pretend that Neteyam simply does not exist.
At every turn you evade him.
Sandwiching yourself between the hulking muscle of Ao’nung and Tonowari at the buffet table. Dancing in an enclosed circle of swaying women. Flitting away in a plume of smoke when he approaches you with your favorite ripe fruit in hand; leaving him standing there stupidly. Palms stained by the juice of the Lionberry as he squeezes it in frustration.
You’re hauntingly beautiful in the firelight.
He hates the fact that he’s not the only who notices it. The way the other males consume you with their carnivorous gazes makes him sick. His fingers clench and his knuckles crack of their own accord.
Long dark hair pours down your back in bouncing waves. The top that you wear clings to you like a second skin; the pearls and seashells glittering in the warm hue of the flames. Your own Lei, pink and pristine, is still resting on your throat. Many intricate bracelets and anklets clink as you walk and he cant take his eyes off of the way that the back of your tweng sits on your pert ass-
“Go talk to her” His dad suggests gruffly as he watches his son watch you. It’s getting hard to stomach at this point, all of that longing palpable and souring the atmosphere.
“She doesn't want to speak to me” Neteyam mutters. Trying not to feel too bad for himself. And failing.
Neteyam hadn't thought his return from Motonui would be like this. He’d envisioned a lot more kissing, and alot less moping.
“Woman aren't as complicated as they seem, son. You don't need some grand gesture-”
“Says the man who tamed Toruk after his first fight with his mate” Neteyam interrupts and Jake snorts at his unusual outburst.
His eldest son is usually so very put together- it's entertaining to see that a woman could bring out this side of him.
“I have nothing to offer her. Back home in the forest I could have given her- everything” Neteyam sighs as he admits what's been on his mind since he’d begun pursuing you “There’s no reason why she’d want to be with me, I’m aware of that”
Jake pulls his son close.
His first born. The apple of his eye. Neteyam was good to his core, and anyone who knew him could see it. Jake was so proud of him and wondered if this lack of self confidence came from the fact that he probably didn’t tell the boy of that fact enough.
“All that girl wants from you is reassurance. That’s all you need to give her, everything else will come with time. If she wanted to mate for status she would’ve done it long before you got here, kid. ”
Jake had been shitty at motivational speeches since his stint in the military. You would think his time as reigning Olo’eyktan would have given him some kind of skills. But still, his words are a bit clunky. But sincere.
After a moment, Neteyam gulps at the Kava in his hand. Drains his cup and then squares his shoulders before he’s off.
Eyes set unyieldingly on the prize.
Jake grins. If a good ol’ pep talk doesn't do it- liquid courage sure will.
You’re half heartedly participating in the conversations going on around you, just distracted enough that Neteyam’s able to stalk over. Unnoticed until he’s standing right infront of you-
“Y/N” His voice is firm, he wonders if you know how hard it is for him to keep it as such. “I see you”
Up close he can see how swollen your eyes are. How exhausted you look. You just nod, muttering out a quiet “I see you” in response.
Everything about your body language screams that you want to be left alone. Your arms are crossed over your chest, your ears tipped low. Your tail curls around your ankle and your nose keeps scrunching up.
He wishes he could let you be,
But you make him selfish. You bring out a side of him that wants to take. Has to be satiated or he’s going to lose his fucking mind.
“I must speak with you” He states his intentions, clear. Ignores the way Ronal glares daggers at the side of his head.
“I don’t think-”
“It will only take a moment. But I ask for the privacy to explain myself to you. If after you hear my words you still do not wish to talk to me I will respect that”
You glance at your family before responding to him. Sharing a look with both Ronal and Tsireya. Your cousin smiles encouragingly, your aunt gives a barley tolerant tilt of her head.
You sigh and nod, but step away from his hand when he offers it to you. It's an obvious rejection, but Neteyam tries not to dwell on it. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.
“We may speak in private. Come” your voice is low, before you begin to lead him away from the festivities. Down the beach until the firelight is in the distance and the beat of the drum is a low hum on the howling wind.
The storms will start soon. The sea is choppy, the clouds rolling in and the breeze cool.
It’s hard to find privacy on the sandy shores, intertwined couples can be found scattered along the waters edge. Lips locked. Speaking lowly and intimately.
Neteyam is pretty sure that one of his fellow hunters has his mate twisted into a mating press- if her breathless whimpers are anything to go by.
He avoids their writhing bodies, ignores the way it makes his own core tingle.
Fertility Season is all but here. The entire clan falling under its low boiling energy.
All he could think about as he had been out on the open ocean; is that this cycle he wouldn't have to spend it alone.
He’s not sure that is the case anymore.
After more walking, completely in silence, the two of you come to a mostly desolate area. Quiet and still, as private as it’s going to get.
You stare out at the cresting waves and Neteyam knows he needs to say something, anything. But all he can to is look at you.
At the way that the moonlight illuminates your silhouette, at the dusting of turquoise bioluminescent freckles that are scattered across your nose.
“I-Um-” You start, and that wont do. He cuts you off quick.
It is only him who needs to explain himself. ��Let me start by apologizing to you. I am so sorry, Y/N”
You appear as though you’re going to start crying and if you do, he’ll lose all his carefully cultivated cool.
So he presses on.
“I had no idea that accepting Lei’s was a courting symbol here. I don't know how to make you believe me but if I had know I would’ve never-” Neteyam lets out a long shaky breath “I can only swear to you that in the future I will be more mindful of your clans traditions”
Time ticks by. The moon shines and the waves crash against the shore.
“Our clan” you break the silence, your voice gentle and melodic. “You passed your Iknimaya. It is your clan as much as mine”
He wants so desperately to hold you. He has for months, but the need is almost unbearable at this very moment.
“If I have lost my chance. Please, tell me now” it’s a plea. Because it hurts to look at you. If he can not have you- if you do not want him, he will accept it. Somehow. But being alone with you like this and not knowing is killing him. “I will…I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to”
You scoff, not looking away from him. Refusing to meet his eye, still staring blanky at the waves. “You act as though I am the one who accepted someone else’s offer. I have never wanted you to leave me alone, Neteyam”
“I’m sorry” Does he sound as idiotic as he feels? He surely hopes not.
“You already said that”
“Please, look at me”
“I can’t” you whisper- hissing at him warningly when he outstretches his hands “I- I don't want to ever feel like this again. You need to tell me what you want from me because I do not know. I will get confused again, if you do not tell me what we are doing”
He can tell by your expression that you are serious, and even so. He cant fucking believe it. Had he failed at courtship so immensely that you really don't know? He’s stuck in his head for a moment too long.
It makes you anxious, makes you back even further away.
“Please-” He’s all but begging, yet
you avoid his touch again and it feels like blades.
Your shrill warning hiss rings in his ears.
He returns it with a snarl of his own when you continue to refuse to let him touch you. Can't help it, the need to rebuff all of this uncertainty around the union that is so special to him is strong.
He grips the top of your arms, his long fingers holding your biceps.
You finally look at him. Your round eyes wide and vulnerable. Filled with unshed tears and unspoken questions.
“I want to mate with you” He starts because if you need to hear it all, word for word, then he’d tell you. “I want to build my life here with you by my side. I want us to have a home that will never know war-”
A tear rolls down the swell of your cheek.
“I-I want you to choose to be with me” He swallows, the lump in his throat getting bigger, higher. Threatening to choke his vocal cords “I will be good to you. If you let me”
His family had always required him to be the rock. Had leaned on him to take on the role of caretaker, he had had to keep it together. Keep them together. It wasn't easy for him to break open like this. It went against his very nature, all that self preservation he’d learned early.
But you need this. And he thinks he might too.
“Neteyam-”
“I will ask you again. If I have lost my chance tell me now”
Have mercy on him.
“I understand if you want to be with someone who can offer you more. I won’t fault you for it” he doesn’t know why he feels the need to tack that on. Why the self deprecating thoughts manifest their way into words that hurt for him to speak “I don’t have much here. But I’ll build it, for you”
Your muscles tense under his palms and he prepares himself for the rejection. The physical blow of it-
But then, you melt. Loosen. Your entire body sags fully into his grip. That pinched expression on your face slips away. Your full lips part and your eyes soften, brows furrowing together.
You look at him like he is something precious. Like you can see him- and he thinks you might be the first one who ever has.
He’d known it in his bones. Since the day he’d arrived. Since he’d first spotted your face in the crowd.
“Oel ngati kameie” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “Oel ngati kamei, Neteyam. I see-”
He leans heavily into your hand. His forehead clunking against yours, pressing hard. The contact stings, but its welcome. He needs it.
He needs.
“I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care what you have or don’t have. You know I don’t.” you murmur urgently, he can feel the words against against his skin.
When you press a whisper light, tentative kiss against the sharp of his cheekbone, something snaps. Something that had been strained and barely held together just breaks.
His control, he realizes as he crowds you.
As his fingers dig into your arms and he presses the line of his body against your own firmly.
You’re so soft everywhere. So much smaller than him. He’s all lean muscle, tall and hard. You’re pliable skin, a layer of blubber to keep you warm in the deep. So different from the women he’d grown up with. Your hips are wide, thighs pillowy.
You’d give him healthy children. His hindbrain howls.
When he captures your lips he hopes you realize that there’s no going back. That this is until death. He’d go to his grave before he was robbed of this again.
You gasp, sweet and small, and he eats it. Consumes all of the air in your lungs. You’re good at holding your breath anyway, right?
“Neteyam” you whine, pulling away, your lips wet and your pupils wide. You’re shaky, already a bit disoriented and he wants to keep you. Protect you. He’ll give you anything if you just keep looking at him like that.
“Are you ok-”
You reach up on the tips of your toes, slamming your lips back against his before he can finish his words.
Your hands tangle into his braids as you try to gain traction, pull him down to your level. Get a better hold on him.
Its intense, dizzying. You kiss him like you’re dying and maybe you are. Maybe you’ve been slowly dying since he first got here. Every moment that you hadn’t been able to be held by him had killed you- a slow torturous death.
You drag him down. Do you know he’d follow you anywhere? Under the waves, down onto the soft sand. He cups the back of your head, shelters your neck as he bullies his thin hips between your dense thighs and pressed you against the ground.
The months worth of tension isn't released gently, because it can't be.
The kisses are bruising. Wandering hands and desperate tongues. It’s carnal, Fertility season making both of your minds cloudy as you try to dig into each others flesh.
Nothing is close enough.
With a whine, your fingers slip under Neteyam's multilayered choker. Using it as leverage to tug on as you thrust your hips up violently. The heat at the apex of your legs grinding against his covered erection dangerously.
“Ah-” he gasps wetly “Easy, Narlor. Easy”
“Sorry” you simper, panting. Trying to get a hold on the feelings rushing through you. One hand gripping his necklace, the other slipping into the back of his hair, brushing the nape of his neck “I want- I dream about it all the time”
Fire rushes down Neteyam’s spine, both at your words and your feather light touch to his kuru. He wonders if you touched yourself after those dreams. If you had to take the edge off like he had. He shudders at the thought-
You’re kissing at his neck again, at all of that sensitive skin under his braids, near his ears.
Your quick touches are everywhere. Rushing all over his body. Manicured nails scraping over his skin-
“Ugh,” he warbles out as your curious hand disappears under his tweng.
Its a tight fit as your fingers dance along his hard cock. Delicate and teasingly light. He’s going to come all over himself like some inexperienced teenager that had never gotten a taste of pussy before if you don't. Slow. Down.
“Tell me about those dreams of yours. What’d we do in them?” Neteyam teases, his lips moving against the corner of your mouth. A distraction for both you and himself.
You can't form words, not as you feel how big he is. As you cherish the fact you’ll never be empty again. He's hard and pulsing in your hand and you want him inside of you. Your mouth, your cunt. You don't care. You want to be the only one who gets to feel him, no one else can ever-
There’s only one way to ensure that.
“Tsahelyu” you whimper, “Please Neteyam. Need it”
He slows down a bit, his head spacy but not totally lost. The bond is everything. It’s the most important aspect of Na’vi culture “I can't bond you here”
“Why?” its a petulant whine, your hips pressing against his again.
“I’m not going to bond you on the cold ground, Yawne. Out in the open”
“It’s okay, I don’t mind” you press and he chuckles, shaking his head “you could have me anywhere you want me”
It’s the raw honesty in your voice that drives him crazy.
Devotion in a way that makes him lightheaded.
He can't give you Tsaheylu yet, he wants it done right. He wants you tucked in a mountain of blankets with a warm fire going- at the height of Fertility Season. The ancestors watching over you as he intertwines himself into your soul for the rest of time.
“I will have you” He assures you, dragging his mouth across your clavicle, his long fingers working the strings of your intricate top loose “And you’ll have me. But you have to let me do it right”
You hate waiting. You tell him as he suckles his way across your chest. Moaning as he finally gets his mouth on your soft breasts. Your fist his braids, shivering as he feasts on your skin.
“I’ll make it worth your while” Neteyam promises between mouthfuls of supple flesh “You’ll want for nothing. I’ll give you anything”
He’s humping down into you, unable to stop his hips from shifting. His cock seeking your warmth. You’re right there, he could just-
“Please” you shiver, like you know what he’s thinking. Like you can read his mind and all the dirty thoughts that cross it.
You can't take it. All of his hesitating.
You’d heard that the Omiticayans were more reserved, more traditional when it came to mating but he was going to drive you crazy.
You push on his chest. Gentle yet demanding.
He doesn't want to remove his mouth from your breasts but he allows it all the same. His lips swollen, a thin string of spit connecting him to your tender nipple as he stares at you with questioning eyes.
Neteyam lets you push him off of you before he goes down onto his back, the sand grating against his shoulder blades as he lays flat. You grin the entire time. Your eyes sparkling with excitement. With hunger.
You look as horny as he feels and it kills him.
Your fingers pluck at the at the delicate ties of your tweng, loosening it until it falls from your curvy hips.
“Y/N” he warns as you then reach for his own. Tugging at the leather straps of his loincloth. He raises his hips, helping you shimmy it down his long legs.
“You can't bond me” You whisper as you straddle his waist, your small hands using his broad chest for balance, palms on his pectorals “Not yet anyway”
“Mhmm” Neteyams murmurs as his eyes roll into the back of his head. You're hot and dripping wet, the center of your legs steaming as you rub it against his groin.
“That doesn't mean you cant touch me” you coo at the man under you as you slowly begin to undulate above him. Your hips circling as your head lowers to tongue at the underside of his jaw.
“Shit” He curses in English, gasping at the night sky as you drag damply across his lower stomach .
“Yes?” you question him as you reach for his hand, leading it exactly where you need him most.
“Yeah” Neteyam assures, fingertips dipping where you're skin is plush and dripping- right in between your spread thighs “Yeah, Yeah”
Your hand is still leading his, cupping him firmly against your pussy as he feels how much you need him. You hadn't been the only one dreaming of this. You had danced behind his eyelids for months. His brain had played tricks on him, desperately splicing together mismatched audio in an attempt to conjure up what you would sound like when he finally got to have you.
A shivery keen escapes you when he presses on your swollen bundle of nerves and nah. His imagination couldn't hold a candle to this.
It’s not just how you sound its how you look.
Sat on top of him, resting on your knees with your chest bare save for that brightly hued Lei. Your kiss bruised bottom lip is skewered between your sharp teeth as you worry it in keyed-up concentration. Blue eyes low, your long eyelashes almost fluttering against your cheeks as you stare down at him.
It’s how you smell.
Ripe and earth wet- his mouth floods as he inhales lungfuls of it, your juices are all over him. His waist, coating his hand . Everywhere but right on his tongue where he wants it the most.
Exploring you where you’re the most vulnerable is slippery, your pussy swollen as he traces along the folds. Your clit beats with your pulse under his touch, inflamed and you cry out.
“Awe, baby” he tuts. Your hips chase him in jagged little movements, unsure and needy and it’s enough to get him grinning. You’d been so sure of yourself when you’d pushed him down and climbed on top of him.
Yet here you are a whining mess of his thing in his lap.
There’s no room to tease, he wants to watch you come all over him. Everything still feels too over sensitive. Too new and easily breakable. You’d spent the last near week questioning his feelings.
Neteyam had his words. He could wax to you poetic until your ears bled,
But he had this too. He needed to make you feel a way that no one else could and as he sunk his long digit inside of you he realized that this was better then any conversation. This felt like the most natural way to express all of his emotions, you sucking him in knuckle deep felt so right.
Velvet soft and vice tight, he’s hard between his own legs from just the feel of you. Just knowing that this was his.
You, your heart. Your body. Your tiny little cunt.
Tiny but taking him so well, not just one finger. But two. Then three. Your body moves like the crashing waves behind you, intense and wild. Shoving down onto him so hard that his wrist starts to ache with the demanding press.
“More” you pant wetly into his neck “Faster. Net-please”
He figures out that faster means harder, and harder means he has you all but vibrating on top of him. Bouncing in time with every thrust of his digits. The arm that isn't preoccupied comes around you to hold you steady as he finger fucks you until you're a squealing mess.
This isn't the first time Neteyam has done this.
There’d been girls back home. One girl in particular that didn't take it too personally that he needed tension relief from the war raging around them and not the arranged soon to be wife that everyone had been trying to shove down his throat back them.
This isn't the first time he’s done this but it’s the first time he’s felt this.
He nuzzles your head out from its hiding place in his shoulder. He has to watch your face, needs to see the way he’s making you fall apart.
This is the first time he’s felt the all consuming pull to be with another person. He wants you like this always. So close to him that he could taste the perspiration from your panting breaths.
You tighten up in his arms, going rigid as your pleasure crests. Your pussy fluttering and mouth gaping. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You’re orgasm is ethereal, raw and fervid.
It’s a glance at Eywa. He sees the great mother on your face as you writhe atop of him.
It’s alot, he can tell. Fuck he can only imagine what you’re feeling if it had been this intense for him. Neteyam lets you hide again after a moment. Your hair covers your face as you shake and he thinks you might be crying, but he just brushes a hand down your damp back. Soothing you back down from the high.
The stars are brighter, even as the clouds gather in gluggy gray storm clusters. Everything seems a little bit more beautiful with his fingers still inside of you. It pains him to slide them out, missing the tight clutch of you once his wet fingers are exposed to the cool night air.
Tsaheylu, you’d begged him earlier. His kuru throbs and gooseflesh erupts all over his body just thinking about bonding with you. He wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything.
You nuzzle against him, nosing at his cheek. Your lips ghosting at the corner of his own.
“You okay?” you wonder. Your voice deep and husky. So sexy it makes his eyes close for a second.
“I should be asking you that”
“Mmm, no need to ask. I feel so so good” you assure him, starting to sit up a little “I um-I kind of got really into it. I’m sorry”
“Sorry?” Neteyam questions, keeping his grip on you as you start to squirm. Not in pleasure this time. But in shame, the embarrassed kind. Coming down from the pleasure haze, that anxious edge comes back. Unsure even as you’re on top of him. “Don’t say that. Why would you be sorry right now?”
You huff, nose scrunching. Ears flicking “I made a mess all over you”
It might not be very nice but he can't help but laugh at you. His pearly white canines on display as he hoots, the belly laughs jostling you from your perch.
“What!” you grumble, but smile all the same. “Stop”
“Hmm. I love messes like this. Feel free to make messes like this anytime” his fingers, still glistening come into view as he brings them to his mouth. Your eyes widen, glued to him. At the slight suction of his cheeks as he licks them in earnest “See. Easy clean up, you’ve got nothing to worry about, Pretty”
You taste as good as you smell. His tastebuds tingle as he swirls the new flavor around. Complex; a sweet musk that he wants to bathe in. He’s acutely aware of the way you watch him, your sweet cheeks burning at his lewdness.
When he frees his fingers with a pop, he gasps as your tongue surges in his mouth.
Tasting yourself on his spit.
Fuck.
He lets you kiss him breathless. Lets you run your sloppy kisses all over his face, down his chin. Across his neck. He arches into it all, gives you all the room you need. He’s well aware of what you’re doing. Working your strong scent into every inch of his bare skin.
Scent marking is a vital part of Na’vi courtship. Ancient, ritualistic and respected. Practiced by your ancestors before the first songs.
It’s makes something in him pur, knowing that you want him to smell like you.
“I think that's enough” He grins when your tongue dips into his navel “They can smell me, baby. You did a very thorough job”
The pout on your face is beyond cute as you sit up on your knees. The little ‘hmph’ sound so adorably out of place in the highly sexually charged situation “But I wanna smell like you too. How will anyone know I’m yours if they can’t smell it?”
Neteyam's nostrils flare. His ears swivel on his head and his tail gives a good lash at that. You want to be marked by him too. Are willing to parade his scent around all of those assholes in the clan that have been trying to win your affections, even when it was clear you were uninterested.
“Lay down” It’s an order, spoken softly but directly and you follow it at once. A giddy smile on your face as you lounge on the sand.
You are a vision.
Hair sprawling and messy behind your head. Your legs spread, back arched. Pretty nipples pebbled hard and on display. The only thing covering you is the floral necklace around your svelte throat.
It doesn't take him long at all. He strokes his striped cock firm and efficiently. Too many years of having to get himself off fast enough not to be caught has made his practiced movements almost perfect.
You’re looking at him like that again. Adoration clear as day on your face. Soft for him. You see him-
“Ol Ngati Kamiel” your voice is saccharin as you speak and he grunts violently as he comes.
Ropes of it land on your belly, across your exposed chest. It’s almost too much when you reach down swiping into the translucent, sticky, mess and start rubbing it into your smooth skin. He collapses shakily beside you, needing to collect himself for a minute before he helps your cause.
It’s the most intimate thing the two of you have done all night, laying together. Basking in the afterglow. Your scents mingle, dancing together in the evening breeze and Neteyam wants to imprint this memory somewhere deep.
The festivities are still raging- and you really do need to get back. It’s an important night. Your clan wants you there, the two of you need to make your rounds. Keep appearances. He won’t keep you from your duties, no matter how much he may want to.
After a quick dip in the ocean, removing the filth of love making but still wearing the strong scent of each other's pheromones, you begin to redress.
Neteyam watches. Highly distracted as you shimmy back into your tweng before looping your top around your shoulders. He works clumsily at the leather of his loincloth.
“Wait-”
The two of you are starting the trek back to the bonfire when he reaches out to halt you. His fingers play with wreath of lilies around your neck and his eyes bore into yours pleadingly.
The smile you give him is more radiant then the silvery moons that twinkle in the inky sky.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Even at the late hour the ceremonial bonfire still crackles with life. The festivities have ebbed into something slower, more intimate.
The adults of the clan are all that’s left, children long gone and tucked into their beds or dozing off against their parents' side.
Kiri sits on a carved log, in a circle of familiar faces.
Her mother and father had left not long ago. Tuk had been fighting slumber but succumbed after the Elders crooned a particularly slow song about the Sky and Sea’s forbidden love. Jake had hoisted the young girl up and bid everyone adieu, swaying on his feet as his wife hissed at him about how after all these years, he still couldn’t handle his liquor.
Now, Kiri listens to stories as she sips slowly on her cup of Kava. Enjoying the pleasant burn;
But not willing to end up like her dumb as rocks brother who is sprawled on the ground. Lo’ak is all but unconscious, every time he opens his eyes they are unfocused and hazy.
That’s what he gets for trying to out drink clan members twice his size. He’d been on the losing end of the drinking competition from the start- he was just too stubborn to see it.
Lo’ak is lucky Tsireya doesn’t care much for drinking, and is more than willing to tend to him. She keeps trying to force him to drink water and nibble on bits of food.
Ao’nung isn’t faring much better; he stares at the moon with a dopey smile as he sings, incredibly off tune, to the song that fills the air. A gaggle of girls surround him. Each hoping to catch his eye.
It’d been an all night thing, affections being thrown at him while he ignored it all too easily.
“My bed will be full this season, I’m not worried about a thing” he’d shrugged it off when asked about it.
Roxto’s boisterous laugh had dwindled down when Kiri shot him an extremely unamused glare.
She’s debating on leaving Lo’ak to sleep on the beach for the night when out of the shadows comes her eldest brother; who had been missing for most of the evening.
The hours had bled away and Kiri had tried not to worry too much about the confrontation that was going on just beyond the jovial bubble of the Metkayina celebrations. You had been distraught and Neteyam had never been good at voicing his own emotional needs-
Huh.
It looks like she had nothing to worry about.
The grin on Neteyam’s face is shit eating. It’s the smuggest she’s ever seen him. Even at his first Inknimaya, back with the Omiticaya, he hadn’t reacted like this. All head raised high and walking on a cloud.
You tug him along behind you, you guys’ fingers tightly intertwined. Your hips sway excitedly as you bounce along the sand. Kiri’s brother's chest is puffed out in obvious pride as he follows your footsteps.
Around his neck is Lei made up of vibrant pink flowers. It matches the one in your hair, that sits kind of lopsided now.
As the couple gets you closer, and Kiri catches a whiff of your approaching bodies, she wants to wretch. You’re drowning in each other's scents and it’s quite obvious what you had been up to all night.
“So gross” Kiri gags in accusation once you’re both in earshot.
You two owed her so big. She thinks naming one of your future children after her would suffice.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Okayyyyy. This was so fun to write and I already have Part Three brewing! TAGLIST IS CLOSED.
So like. Lots to address here. Tons to talk about. I’m gonna start the conversation but I hope you guys continue it in the comments.
1. The Motnaui is something I completely made up(…yes after watching Moana and taking inspiration for the name) lol it’s a ritualistic hunt that newly anointed hunters and warriors go on after their Metkayinan Iknimaya’s. I know all the different clans Iknimaya traditions would be different and I thought this would be cool.
2. I read a story in the Avatar fandom where the liquor they drank was called Kava and it just stuck in my brain. I know Kava is a drink in real life too, but for the sake of storytelling, please think about them as completely different things. The drink in this story is more of a wine/moonshine mixture deal. Would really fuck your ass upppp.
3. Fertility Season is obvs totes made up. Why is it rainy during it? Because I myself would want a week of non stop loving making with a nice little fire going, under lots of blankets with it chilly and rainy outside. And at the end of the day I’m writing for me lol
4. NETEYAM IS A SWEETHEART WHO STRUGGLES WITH HIS SELF WORTH JUST LIKE THE REST OF US. Please listen to the Artic Monkeys while you read this chapter(wanna be yours, do I wanna know, 505. THE LONGING)
5. Expect more POV’s to come! It will always be mostly rooted from Y/N’s point of view but I love touching base with all of the other characters. It’s so fun. I’m thinking a snippet of Neytiris in Part Three!
#neteyam smut#neteyam x reader smut#neteyam x reader#aged up neteyam#SMUT!#neteyam x metkayina!reader#neteyam x you#atwow neteyam
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It's the little things that Astarion comes to savor with his freedom.
Over the course of his journey with you and the others, he wakes every morning to the gilded light of the sun. He greets it as if greeting an old friend, basking in the warmth of reunion. He's not sure how much longer he'll have to enjoy it, so he relishes every moment he spends in its incandescent light.
Astarion savors the smell of freshly brewed tea. Bergamot, lemon, mint. Herbaceous, floral, earthy, bright. He breathes it all in, everything he can. Long gone are the fetid smells of rot and pungent bile that filled Cazador's palace. Every once in a while, a carcass on the road might hit him with that powerful, unpleasant scent memory. So he's taken to carrying a handkerchief he's spritzed with his signature scent in order to cover his mouth and nose when the memories come flooding back. Something to ground him in the present moment. Over time, when the scent of the handkerchief begins to fade and his bond with his companions grows closer, he starts to douse it in their various perfumes. To remind him of family. To remind him of his real home.
Everything feels bright and new. Sometimes overwhelmingly so. But always transcendently beautiful. The green of the leaves high above him, the way the ground is dappled with sunlight. The almost lurid colors of wildflowers, harsh on his eyes at first, but he'd rather that then the sapped grays of his previous confines. He marvels at the sun sinking beyond the horizon in vibrant pinks and oranges. He hems and haws over various dyes sold by merchants along the road, wondering what color might suit him best. There are so many to choose from, so many striking possibilities.
Astarion cherishes moonlit walks down quiet roads, fingers intertwined with yours, the stars twinkling high above. Gazing upwards, there's a vastness that stretches infinitely above. No longer is he trapped, enclosed in the depths. When he looks up, there's no ceiling to greet him. No ominous, crushing darkness. Only the boundless heavens above, and a wide world unfurling around him.
Astarion holds close every moment he shares with his fellow adventurers. The back and forth teasing, all in good fun, all out of affection. Although sometimes the arguments turn nasty. But even these don't bother him for long. At the end of the day, everyone settles and anger is forgotten around the crackling warmth of the campfire. Sharing meals together, resting under the shade of a great tree. Swapping stories, weaving tales together. Karlach's resounding laughter echoing through the night. Shadowheart's quiet smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Lae'zel begrudgingly smirking at one of Astarion’s snarky quips. Halsin's strong, but quiet presence. Astarion even finds himself smiling at some of Gale's various displays of his magic and Wyll's heroic tales. He'd never admit any of that out loud to them, but when his eyelids start to droop at night, he smiles to himself, grateful to be amongst friendly company.
Astarion cherishes waking up next to you every morning, and settling in beside you every night. You kissing him awake, lips featherlight on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips. The crook of your neck is a safe space for Astarion, one you've helped him build over these last several months. When he's there, he feels protected. You hold him close, enveloping him warmly in your embrace, surrounding him in the gentle scent of you and the metal of your blood. You and the people in this little camp have come to mean safety, nourishment, and home to him. And it's these little things that mean more than anything to Astarion in the whole world.
#astarion#astarion x you#astarion x tav#baldurs gate 3#bg3#astarion bg3#drabble#my writing#fluff#astarion baldurs gate#the brainrot is endless#the tadpole in my brain is compelling me to write about him#astarion headcanons#karlach#gale#wyll#shadowheart#lae'zel#halsin#tav#found family#found family is my favorite trope
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out here
ship: amber freeman (scream) x gender neutral reader
warnings: slight mentions of sex, nudity, drinking, blood (but nothing nsfw)
summary: amber can get you to do anything. but camping with her friends? ...yes, she can get you to do even that.
word count: 1000+
Woodsboro, California. Named for the dense forest along the outskirts of town. The woods are a popular hang-out spot for the local teenagers, who like to camp or throw parties. You wake up tangled in Amber's arms after a night of drinking and swapping ghost stories around the campfire with her friends. Rays of sunlight trickle through the thin nylon of the shitty tent you two bought on the way here.
Her friends, namely the twins Mindy and Chad, had hyped everyone up to celebrate finally graduating. Wes, always a big survival planner, had texted the group a list of essentials the night before. Bear spray, flashlights, sleeping bags, enough clothes to last two days, actual food. No one listened, of course, and instead Amber had teased him for being such a killjoy.
At first, you had resisted this little spontaneous weekend getaway. You were busy, and plus you were always more of an indoors person. All the camping trips you remembered growing up made you think about sore legs from too much walking, views that weren't worth it, and mosquito bites.
But Amber had a way of getting to you. She had winked, pressing against you, looking up at you with those big brown eyes. Whispering promises of sharing a tent together and the things you could get up to when you're all alone. So now you're in the middle of the woods, dealing with bugs and no Wi-Fi and shitty signal. Yay.
"Amber. You're, ugh," you groan, trying (and failing) to extricate yourself from her grip. She's stronger than she looks. When your arms protest the sudden movement, you give up, melting into her hold. "You're suffocating me."
"Yeah, but you like it," Amber tells you. She nuzzles into your neck, not even a little bit sorry. You can feel her smug smile against your skin, that wide grin of hers when she knows she's getting her way.
After some grumbling and weak protests otherwise, the two of you end up in a play wrestle. You don't try that hard, knowing that if you ever actually exert yourself to pushing Amber away she'd get even more excited. She likes this game. Too much, probably. The almost-violence, the thrill of playing rough with someone you care about. The danger. With how often Amber gets her way, sometimes it's nice to pretend that you won't just give it to her. But you both know how this always goes. You don't actually want to hurt her, and Amber wants more, more, more. She nips your neck hard enough to bleed.
It ends up with Amber on top of you, straddling your waist. Her hands encircle your wrists, pinning you to the sleeping bag. Her eyes sparkle as she stares down at you. Maybe you shouldn't find this so sexy. But the early morning sunlight hits illuminates Amber from behind and it makes her shine. She's still naked from last night, her pale skin marked with bruises from sleeping on the hard ground. Among the other activities you two got up to last night. Her hair is sticking up from tossing and turning, and the sleeping bag is bunched up around her waist. Now that's a view that's worth it. Amber looks like an angel. A sinister one who's celebrating winning by playing dirty, but an angel nonetheless.
"I could buck you off," you warn.
"Yeah, right." She knows you wouldn't. There's a look in her eye practically asking for you to try.
You assess the pros and cons. In truth, you're too hungover and tired from last night to try. And you can breathe again since Amber isn't crushing your windpipe with her arm around you. "...Fine. You win this time, Freeman."
Amber leans down into your warmth until you're pressed together again. "Damn right I do, babe," she mutters into your chest. A kiss there, at your collarbone, then a few more up towards the hickeys she left along your throat. You think you even feel her kissing at the bite she gave you. An apology for playing so rough? "Now shut up and cuddle me."
So now you're snuggled up with your violent cutie of a girlfriend, your arms loose around her waist. When she complains, you tighten your grip. Amber craves attention from you like she craves air.
Not too long passes before you hear the others outside. They're already getting up, unlike you two, getting breakfast together. Everyone besides Wes only brought booze and snacks, so you aren't surprised when you hear Chad annoying him. "Wes, come on," you hear Chad say, "you know you brought all that to share! What kinda friend lets his buddies starve to death, huh?"
"This is why everyone should actually use my checklists. I don't send them as a joke-" Whatever. You drown them out, instead focusing on the girl in your arms. Her eyes are closed, so there's some chance you're waking her up again.
"Your friends are annoying," you say to Amber. It's a fond observation though. They've all grown on you since you and Amber got together. With how tight-knit they are, you've had to hang out with them pretty often. They're all so different from each other and yet they're so close. Different interests, clashing personalities. Hell, if it weren't for the occasional horror movie marathons, you wouldn't think that they'd get along at all. "I don't know how you even deal with them."
"They're my best friends. And they have been since I was a kid, basically," Amber replies, her voice low so they don't hear her defending them. Everyone but Tara - and now you - haven't heard her like this. Sweet, caring. Loyal. She might be snarky with her friends, but deep down she loves each of them in her own way. "They can be annoying, yeah," she concedes, "but they matter to me."
Before you can crack a joke about how Amber must enjoy annoying since she's dating you, she snuggles closer. The two of you listen to the rest of her friends chattering away outside. Liv tells her boyfriend to stop annoying Wes, and Tara asks for breakfast in a less entitled way. Wes gives in, obviously, because Chad was right and he brought enough food for everyone on purpose.
"Plus, they're your friends now too, babe," Amber says.
With one last deep kiss before you two should get up, you sigh in contentment. Her lips are just that good. Fine. You can admit that camping isn't that bad. Camping with her, at least. Maybe it's fine to always let Amber win.
#amber freeman#amber freeman x reader#scream 5#mikey madison#mikey madison x reader#amber freeman x y/n#amber freeman x you#scream 2022
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Things to Learn II
A/N: I kind of love writing these characters? tsm for the love on the original I’m glad I got to dive back into their story again. I’m starting a taglist so if you’d like to be on it give me a shout :)
Part 1 / 2 / 3 /
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Harry rushes out of the toilets so he doesn’t miss the opening scene and nearly crashes into someone standing around the corner.
“Sorry!” He says as he tries to rush on by.
“Harry!?” The person calls his name.
He stops in his tracks and takes a look at who he just bumped into. And of course, it would be her.
“YN,” he swallows the lump forming in his throat. “Hi-uh what are you doing here?”
“Watching a movie?” She raises a brow. Still the same attitude as before.
“Oh! Right. Yeah. Me too-“
“Which movie are you here for?”
“The Planet of the Apes reruns,” Harry points to the door he so badly wants to walk through. As much as he wanted to stand here and talk to YN, have her attention all to himself, he wanted to watch the movie he came here for more.
“Well I’m here for that new romcom but Raina ditched me to go to that riverbank bonfire bullshit everyone’s talking about. But I hate smelling like campfire afterwards plus I already bought popcorn-“
“Didn’t that movie start 15 minutes ago?” Harry notices she’s standing in front of the poster. Why was she hovering outside?
“Well yeah because I’m wondering if I should be the loser inside watching a romcom by herself.”
Harry doesn’t know if he should be offended—he regularly watched movies by himself during the summer when he had nothing else to do. But then he realizes YN and her opinions weren’t something he took offence to ever since he put down his intellectually superior flag.
“Well I’m here with Caleb if you want to-“
“Bloody hell I was waiting for you to get the hint,” she brushes past Harry and he trails behind, confused.
“You wanted to watch Planet of the Apes?”
“No! I just didn’t want to watch a movie by myself. And you were supposed to invite me.”
“Oh,” these were the social rules Harry often missed. It was sort of nice having YN spell it out for him. “You could have just said-“
“Shh,” she shushes him as they enter the theatre.
Harry was pleased at the way Caleb’s eyes bugged out of his head at the sight of YN.
“I thought you were going to the toilet?” He whispers loudly.
“I was but she-“ Harry cuts off as someone in front turns around with a dirty look. The movie hadn’t even started.
YN sits beside Harry and begins snacking on her popcorn. She hogs the armrest and he lets her, and when she pulls out her sweets and offers it to Harry and his friend they end up swapping most of their snacks. Despite being distracted at first he has a really fun time with the two of them.
Outside in the lobby after the movie is done, YN hesitates after throwing out her trash. It looks like she was wondering if she should stick around or not.
“Thanks,” she finally tells Harry. “Let’s not do this again though.”
“You joined us,” Harry reminds her. She eyes both him and Caleb.
“Yeah, exactly?” She says with a hand on her hip.
“I’m j’saying we weren’t the ones ditched here,” Harry says before he could stop himself. Her pleasant expression falls and Harry can see Caleb concentrate on something far away. Coward.
“Firstly I was invited to join the party but like I said I don’t like smelling like campfire. Secondly, just cuz I told you I was ditched doesn’t make you-“
“Um, I gotta go.” Caleb pipes in from behind. Both Harry and YN turn to him and he almost shrinks. “My ride is here um…”
“See ya later,” Harry cups his hand and Caleb bolts out faster than a cat seeing a dog.
“You were saying?” Harry turns back to YN.
“Look,” she points to the other theatre, the one she’d been standing in front of when Harry bumped into her. “The next showing starts in a bit.”
Harry stares, trying to figure out what she was asking.
“We could watch it?”
“I thought we shouldn’t do this again?”
“Shut up,” she starts walking away.
“Isn’t this illegal?” Harry catches up to her. “I don’t even want to watch this movie.”
“Actually you do,” she grabs his arm and pulls him up the stairs even though he’s following her anyway. Harry tries not to focus on the exact part of his arm she’s touching but it feels warmer than usual. “And secondly nobody is going to kick us out. It doesn’t even matter, do something illegal once in a while.”
Harry follows along with her and they end up having a lot more fun at the second movie. He actually finds it funny and it reminds him of watching these during the holidays with his sister and mum. YN leans her head on his shoulder during an emotional scene and Harry feels like he’s made of clay until she takes it off and laughs at the next scene.
“You had fun, admit it!” YN says as they walk out of the theatre. It was close to midnight now and Harry was planning on walking home.
“Maybe!” Harry doesn’t.
“Liar,” she skips ahead of him. “Secretly you thought my romcom was a lot cooler than your Ape movie.”
“Planet of the Apes, and you enjoyed that one.”
“I’m not denying it,” she shrugs. “C’mon I know you’ve got a sister don’t you watch romcoms with her?”
Harry seems disturbed by the idea, “Not that sort. We watch holiday ones during Christmas but-“
“Oh my god like the Holiday?”
“Yeah I’ve seen that a billion times. And there’s one with Keira Knightley-“
“Oh I bet there is,” she nudges him and Harry blushes. “She does seem your type.”
“Yeah and you probably love Jude Law in The Holiday.”
“Well yeah he’s alright,” she pouts her mouth and doesn’t finish her sentence.
“No way,” Harry laughs. “It’s not Jude Law.”
“You know who’s peng? Tom Hardy. There’s a man I’d watch in a romcom over and over.”
“What?” Harry didn’t know who that was but now he was curious.
“Yeah. You should look him up. Anyway, my ride’s gonna be here any minute so I’m staying here.”
“Oh. Yeah right.” Harry thought they were walking home together but she stays near the closest bus shelter. “Well bye.”
“Bye,” she waves him off.
He doesn’t think he’d see her again that summer. But the next morning she sends him a text saying it was fun and he should come over some time to broaden his romcom education. He thinks she’s joking but the following Tuesday she shows up at his house with DVDs and Percys and although Harry’s mum is surprised to see a girl friend at the house, she orders them pizza and his family gives him the den all to themselves.
After watching two movies back to back and feeling sick from all the junk they’ve consumed they lay on the floor. As evening falls through the wispy curtains of his front window Harry asks YN about her summer and uni. She’s cagey and likes to turn questions around on him but it’s nice talking to her like that with most of her guard down. It almost feels like they’re friends.
***
YN shows up at Harry’s house after dinner. His butt is glued down on his sofa ready to settle into a night of playing video games but the ringing at the door interrupts him.
“Harry!” His sister calls out from somewhere. He was closest to the door and on his way there he peeks through the curtains of the den to see a familiar head of hair. In a cap.
“Hey!” She walks right in.
“Hey…” Harry looks at her get-up: a tanktop and gauzy skirt paired with the trainers she always wore.
“Oh YN,” Harry’s mum pokes her head down from the staircase. “You haven’t been around in a while how are things?”
“Hi Mrs. Styles.” YN was always the perfect angel in front of his parents but his mum was right, it had been a couple weeks since she came by. “I’m good! I’ve been working a few shifts at the shop I do summers at. I had the day off I’m trying to convince Harry to come out with me.”
She was, Harry thought. And she had a summer job?
He’s reminded that no matter how much closer they got, she was always somewhat of a mystery.
“Oh where are you heading out?” Harry’s mum walks down a few steps and sits down.
“There’s a get-together of some of our school friends. Harry never shows up to these things so-“
“Harry,” his mum joins in. “You should go!”
“I never even said no, jeez!” Harry grows flustered.
“But he was totally going to,” YN says to his mum. She laughs and Harry feels peer-pressured.
“Fine! I’ll go.”
“Well be safe,” his mum gets back up. “Make good decisions.”
Harry glares at YN when his mum clears the area and she smiles sweetly back at him.
“Oops.”
“For the record I don’t want to go.”
“Exactly,” she smiles. “Now where’s your room we need to put you in something better than that.”
He was in very comfortable sweatpants and a tee. By the time he was leaving he was in was a short sleeved button-up layered over the same tee and shorts he didn’t even know he owned. She’d forced him to take his glasses off and wear contacts then ruffled his hear with gel and she’d been so close every one of Harry’s senses had been hyper-tuned to her. YN had been oblivious.
“I can’t find my phone,” Harry pats his pockets down as they go downstairs.
“Just leave without it! We’re gonna be late!”
“Can you just call it?” Harry’s halfway up the steps. “I can’t leave without it.”
YN rolls her eyes and calls it. It rings from the den and she walks towards it.
“Seriously?” She walks back out. “You never changed my name?”
Future Prime Minister YN with a heart. It had stayed the same since their group project.
“I guess not,” Harry suddenly feels even more self conscious.
“You can keep the heart,” she goes into his contacts after holding his phone up to his face.
“Hey I never said you could go in!”
“Shush!” She smirks as she updates her name. “There.”
“You don’t want to change the photo?” Harry asks and sighs at her new name: HRH 💖
“No time. Let’s go!” She pushes him out the door.
“I’m going I’m going!” Harry closes the door behind him and they set off down the road.
“You’re so lucky your mum’s so chill,” YN says as they walk.
“Where are we going?” Harry asks.
“My mum thinks I’m at Raina’s watching movies or some shite. Your mum actually like, encouraged you to go out. She didn’t even give you a curfew.”
“Well I never do this,” Harry replies. “What is this anyway.”
“Another bonfire-“
“Does Raina do those like every week?” Harry remembered something about this that night they bumped into each other at the cinema.
“No,” YN says, offended that he would criticize her friend in any way. “The guy she’s seeing right now knows a guy. They do them like a couple times a month. If they did it every week don’t you think someone would catch on?”
Harry shrugs.
“Anyway, you have a decent closet why do you always dress so…boring?”
“I don’t dress boring,” Harry shoves his hand into his pockets. “I’m just comfortable.”
“I’m comfortable,” she points out.
Harry eyes her outfit again, she looked nice and her legs looked particularly nice in the skirt. Harry looks up in the silence he’d just created to find YN staring at him with a raised brow.
“Had a good look?” She punches his arm.
“Ow,” Harry rubs his arm but he deserved it. He’d been oggling. But ever since she’d gotten into his face to run her gelled fingers through his hair, and the cloud of her shampoo or perfume whatever it was closed in around him he’s having a hard time not glancing at her every opportunity.
“Have you got anyone you’re seeing?” Harry asks.
“Nope,” she pops her p. “With uni starting I didn’t really want to let a guy distract me and fuck with my feelings.”
“Wow,” it slips out of Harry’s mouth.
“What?” She narrows her eyes. “And we’re going right here.”
They turn the corner and she asks Harry again what his reaction meant.
“Nothing. I’m just surprised you’re not having a summer fling or something.”
“God Harry, do you think I just date boys to get off or something? I’ve barely had a boyfriend-“
She cuts herself off.
“What?” Harry missed what happened.
“Nothing.”
“Aw c’mon you can’t say ‘nothing’ now,” Harry pushes. After knowing YN this long, she was still scary, but he’d learned where and how to poke at her to get more answers without getting his head bitten off. “You’ve dated plenty of guys.”
“For someone with his nose in a book all the time you claim to know a lot about who I’m dating.”
“It’s hard not to miss what everyone’s talking about.”
“So you believe all the rumours? In that case it’s probably true you cried your first time.”
“What?!” Harry flushes. “Who said that?”
“But rumours are true right?”
“Fine. You just always had one of the football blokes nearby I just-“
“So you just thought I dated the whole team?”
Fuck, Harry realizes he’d screwed up when she starts to speed walk away. He’d spoken before thinking about what it might sound like from her end.
She starts to walk ahead and Harry fastens his pace to catch up. He reaches out and clasps her shoulder. “YN wait I’m sorry. I didn’t think-“
“Whatever,” she brushes his hand off.
He felt awful. He tries again, grabbing her arm this time and she comes to a stop.
“I’m sorry!” He says again. “Just forget I said anything.”
He’s surprised to see her teary eyes when she turns to him.
“What?” She snaps. “Never seen a girl cry before?”
“No I just—I didn’t mean to make you cry-“
“Oh you didn’t make my cry don’t worry,” she huffs. “I just hate how everyone in school always judges me based on their own fucking insecurities.”
Harry pauses, it was true. And he knew YN was only as cutting as she was so she could be taken seriously—so nobody would walk all over her just because she was a girl. He shouldn’t have made that comment, he knew that. He knew better but apparently he still had things to learn.
“I shouldn’t have judged you like that,” Harry mumbles. “I knew better.”
Her mouth parts slightly, YN wasn’t expecting Harry to say a combination of words that actually sounded better than an apology. She forgives him, but she doesn’t let him know.
“Well…you can make it up to me.” YN threads her arm through Harry’s. At first he doesn’t quite know what to do—despite their budding friendship YN rarely showed any affection or even friendliness in public. This was different.
“How? That sounds a bit sinister.”
“You’re going to get drunk with me. I’ve never seen you drunk before, and I want to be able to have embarrassing pictures of you to use next time you make me upset.”
“No way!” Harry unthreads his hand, regretting the decision a little.
“So you’re just gonna go to a party and watch everyone else drink? Your mum would be disappointed!”
“Trust me my mum doesn’t want me to get drunk,” Harry corrects her. “And I don’t drink for a reason. It really doesn’t take much to get tipsy.”
“Really?” YN eyes him. “But you’re tall.”
Harry shrugs, suddenly his heart thuds in his chest as he catches sight of the smoke of the bonfire. This was real—he was actually going to a class party with YN as his company. He had no friends there. This wasn’t his scene. What was he thinking?
“Have we got to do-“
“We’re going,” YN takes his hand and drags it the rest of the way. “We’re going to uni next year and you’re not going to be a party virgin.”
“I’ve been to parties!”
“What? D&D parties?” YN snorts. “You’re going to an outdoor party with drinks and getting drunk. I want you to let loose. Show everyone Harry the nerd is kind of funny?”
“Kind of?” Harry tugs her hand back. “You snorted at my jokes a couple weeks ago.”
YN looks back at him and Harry’s breath is momentarily caught in his throat. The light of the bonfire reflects in her eyes that crinkle at the corners as she looks at him. She has an amused smile fixed on her face. She’s relaxed completely, unguarded.
He wanted more of that, he realizes.
“Oi it’s about time!” Someone notices YN and waves her down. Harry’s forced to follow. “Brought a date did you?”
“Not my date,” YN rolls her eyes.
The group, amongst whom most had been in a lot of his classes, simply stare at him expecting a name or something. Blimey, he realizes nobody recognized him. YN did a good job with her makeover.
“Good,” one particular bloke—tall with a shaggy overgrown mop of hair peels away from the group and slides his arm around YN. She distances herself in one languid move and continues on.
“Are you lot alright?” YN asks. “It’s Harry?”
“Hey Harry,” a few of them say with a removed friendliness. They still couldn’t place him. Harry would have been offended if this wasn’t the last summer he would see them all.
“Okay?” YN turns to Harry with her eyebrow raised and a joke in her eyes like they were on the ins of something together. It warms Harry’s chest with a gentle ease.
“Harry,” shaggy-hair says. “How d’you two know each other?”
“I’m gonna show Har to the drinks,” YN continues ignoring the guy. Harry’s dying to know who that is. “Anyone seen Raina?”
“She was over there a little while ago,” someone motions towards the fire.
This satisfies YN enough. She turns, “Drinks
“Yeah,” Harry feels lighter being here knowing nobody really recognized him. Like he could be anyone. Maybe he was getting a taste of what being at uni would feel like. He liked it.
He asks YN who that guy was when they get enough distance.
“Oh him? We went out a few times, hooked up at a couple parties. He seems to think that means I want him around at any given moment but he’s a bit clingy.”
A bit was an understatement but Harry stays quiet.
“He looks old.”
She laughs, “Yeah maybe cause he’s 21?”
“What’s he doing with a bunch of teens?” Harry asks, puzzled.
“Oh Har,” YN pats his shoulder and laughs. “Let’s get you a drink.”
“Just one drink,” Harry insists.
But after downing the disgustingly hoppy beer YN hands him Harry starts to feel even better being here. Nobody recognizes him, he has YN keeping him company (after she goes to Raina for a bit and comes back grumbling about her new boyfriend), and the energy at the party starts to really take off as someone turns on a playlist and people really start to mingle.
“So you excited about uni?” YN asks. They’re both sitting on a large rock. Yn has her knees tucked into her and her cheek rests on top. She seemed down after coming back from Raina.
“Yeah!” Harry says. “Finally get some bloody freedom, away from this place.”
“This place?” She slides her cheek across her knees to look at him. She looks beautiful, Harry thinks, before sliding his eyes away. It was still hard for him to maintain eye contact with her despite all the evenings they spent together.
“School. These people.”
“Hey they didn’t even recognize you today,” she chuckles. “I did a good job.”
She reached out and brushes one of his curls. Harry inadvertently leans in closer to her.
“I look the exact same,” Harry scoffs.
“No without those big ass glasses you actually look different.”
“Call me Clark Kent then.”
“Clark Kent.”
Harry looks at YN with an are-you-serious expression and she laughs.
“I didn’t actually mean to call me Clark-“
“I know,” she says softly. “I’m trying to annoy you.”
“That’s not hard to do.”
“Hey!” She punches him lightly. “That’s mean. You’re mean when you’re drinking.”
“No I’m not,” was he? He was just being himself here.
“No…you’re not,” she agrees. “But you’re honest. Anyway, you’re living on campus right? That’s lucky.”
“Why don’t you?” Harry asks.
“I can’t,” YN turns her face away again. “I’ve got to stay at home. Things are…complicated. So I’ve just got to commute.”
“Do you think we’ll hang out at uni?” Harry asks and then flushes as he realizes he said it out loud.
“Yeah? Why wouldn’t we?”
Harry shrugs. “We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”
“Look at us now,” she leans into him, nudging his shoulder, and the warmth of her pressed into him is a balm to his melancholy. “We’re not gonna have the same labels in uni. Nobody knows us. We just get to be ourselves.”
“I hope so.” Harry says. “Should I get another drink?”
“Really?” YN sits up. “You want another?”
“Yeah!” Harry suddenly feels energized. “Why fucking not?!”
“Alright!” She hops off and he follows. “You also swear a lot more when you drink. It’s funny.”
“Sorry,” Harry apologizes immediately.
“Don’t be, I like it.” She says and Harry’s heart skips a beat. He floats the rest of the way to the drinks.
He downs half of another beer before he’s recruited to do a keg stand. He’s pretty sure it’s YN’s pretty-boy that jostles him into that crowd. He’d never done one before and YN tries to pull him away but tipsy and brave he gets instructions and allows two strangers to hold him up while he drinks what feels like the equivalent to the Thames.
The boys standing around cheer him on when he stands back up with the longest time out of everyone tonight. If he was anything, Harry was a winner. And he feels powerful: he’s actually seen and celebrated tonight for doing something as stupid as a keg stand. Why didn’t he do this more in school?
“Make way for the goat!” One of the guys shouts.
“You’re all wankers!” Harry shouts. “I just owned you all!”
“Harry,” YN’s hand clasps his and while he shouts celebrations back to the guys he’s dragged away by her.
“It’s Harry right?” A girl he’s never seen before stops YN on her trek to get him far away from the drinks. “I’m Marva.”
“Marva!” Harry pulls his hand from YN and shakes Marva’s. “Nice to meet you…Mara.”
“Yeah nice to meet you,” she smiles. “You’ve got really nice eyes.”
“Thank you Mara. You have really nice teeth.”
“Fucking hell,” YN mutters then louder she says, “Sorry Marva we gotta go. Maybe you can catch up with-“
“Okay I just wanna say that was sick what you did,” Marva points to the keg.
“I’m king of the keg,” Harry says and YN mumbles something to the side but Harry’s too swept in winning, in getting attention from this beautiful girl, to hear.
“Yeah, uhm could I get your number?”
“Uh,” Harry tries to remember his number but it doesn’t come to him. He should remember his number. Why isn’t it coming to him?
“Or I could give you mine?” She says after Harry stands there silently for an uncomfortable minute.
“Yeah,” Harry hands his phone over but his mind keep trying to push through the slosh to remember his number. Soon enough he’s walking away with YN again. “Why is my number? It’s a set of numbers…”
He’s mumbling, an anxious feeling creeping up his chest as he tries to remember.
“Hey,” YN finally allows him to stop. She senses the panic rising in him and lays a hand on his chest. The buzzing stops immediately. “Harry look at me.”
Harry looks down at YN, she was one of the most beautiful women he’s ever seen. He wishes he could hold her face for eternity. He would live in peace.
“Hello?” She snaps her fingers. “You’re not blinking are you alright?”
“Probably not!” Harry laughs. “I just got hit on by a gorgeous girl did you see that?”
“Yes,” she rolls her eyes. “She was impressed by your ability to drink upside down. What a catch.”
“I am a catch,” Harry motions to the water behind them. “I’m a fish in the sea.”
“Oh my god,” YN laughs. “You’re ridiculous is what you are. That’s a river I thought you were smart.”
“I’m cool now.”
She brushes his hair again, “give a nerd a new hair style,” she drags her hands over his eyes, “put him in contacts,” she continues tracing her hand down his face to his chest, “put him in new clothes-“
She cuts herself off when Harry grasps her hand against his chest. He was sure she could feel his heart racing inside.
They stare silently at each other, the darkness cushioning them on either side until it feels like they’re the only two beings in the night. Like they’re drifting in the dark, tethered only by hands and gazes.
Harry tilts forward, YN doesn’t move back. So he closes the distance and presses his lips to hers, they’re as soft as he imagined. They’re the best lips he’s ever kissed.
Maybe he imagines it, maybe it was a drunk fantasy, but for a brief second she presses her lips against his; she closes her eyes and kisses him back.
The next second, she’s shoving him backwards and scrambling away. Her look of shock and betrayal cuts right through the fog in his brain.
“What the fuck?” She shouts. “Did-did you just fucking kiss me?”
“I’m sorry!” Harry feels his heart in his throat, why did he think she would ever want to kiss him? She was YN, he was just Harry. “I don’t-I’m not I-“
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She wipes the back of her hand against her mouth, adding assault to injury. “Why would you do that?!”
“YN,” Harry stumbles forward but she peddles backward. It’s another punch added, almost deflating him entirely. “I didn’t mean—I’m drunk I’m sorry-“
“Being drunk isn’t a fucking excuse,” she spits.
“I know! I’m sorry!”
“Goddamnit! You’re just like every other asshole of a guy. I thought we were friends! But of course you get drunk and try to kiss me-“
“It’s not like that!” Harry tries to tell her. He was just braver drunk but he’s been in love with her a long time. After hanging out this whole summer he just thought they had a moment there. He read the signs wrong; apparently a bookworm could read wrong.
Maybe he would never be good at this whole people thing.
“Then what?” YN seethes. “Then why the hell—why did you try to kiss me Harry? You don’t even like me why would you kiss me?!”
“I…” he doesn’t know what to say. Of course he liked her. He more than liked her; YN changed his life and he’s starting to like who she makes him be.
But nothing will make this situation better. And the worst part is he feels her slip away, right through his fingers. It’s like one of those jelly toys from when he was a kid; the harder he gripped the easier it slipped away.
“Get fucked Harry,” YN swears. She turns and leaves. She leaves him and he doesn’t think she’ll ever come back.
When the rush of adrenaline subsides Harry empties the contents of his stomach. With his head swimming he picks himself up and finds his way out. With a final glance at the party he’d just felt king of, he spots YN tucked into the body of shaggy-hair and his stomach turns. Why did he ever think she’d want him? Girls like her didn’t end up with guys like him. Why did he ever come to this stupid party in the first place and get drunk? This wasn’t him. Uni or not, maybe he was never meant to change all that much.
***
Harry looks around his half of the dorm he’s just finished putting together with a proud smile. At last the day had come, he had successfully escaped the shackles of school and all its taunting and made it to the uni of his choice. Despite only being a 1.5 hour train ride from home Harry chose to get the full uni experience and live on campus. His life was going to change, he could feel it.
That is, until his roommate walked in.
Messy hair, backwards baseball cap, crewneck and baggy jeans and massive headphones on. Harry already types him in his mind—how the hell did the dorm board pair the two of them together?
“Aw marra,” he holds his hand out sideways and Harry clasps his hand and lets his body gets tugged into his roommate’s bony shoulder. “Harry right?”
“Yeah,” Harry tries to find his balance again. “Roderick?”
“Just Rod yeah,” Roderick throw his duffel bag onto the bed and points behind him. “Give me a hand with the other bags?”
Harry wasn’t much for lifting heavy things but he didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with someone he’d be living with the next year. So he goes.
“When did you get here?” He asks.
“Last night,” Harry wanted to get in before everyone else and avoid the crowds of people. He knew it would be a good way to meet others and make friends—his sister told him the first week was when you made most of them, but he did what we wanted.
Rod barely hears him as they get the last of his bags. “It was packed to shite trying to get in here. Where’d you come in from?”
“London,” Harry answers.
“And you’re staying here? On campus?”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to do the commute everyday. Felt like a waste of time.”
“Yeah that’d be crazy.” His roommate agrees.
“What about you?” Harry remembers to ask.
“Sunlun,” he replies. Harry hadn’t heard of it, and reminds himself to look it up later. “I was right ready to lose it driving here. My mam drove me-“
“Oh is she around?” Harry asks.
“No,” Rod laughs. “I’m not starting school trailing after her. But I promised her I’d have a meal with her after moving my—hey you should come!”
Harry has a hard time keeping up with Roderick, despite having longer legs than him he walks as fast as he talks and he talks with an accent that takes a minute to filter through for understanding.
“I couldn’t-“
“No you’re coming,” Rod claps Harry on the back. “She would love seeing that my roommate’s someone like you.”
Someone like you, what did that mean? But on some level Harry knows just by comparing Roderick’s outfit and Harry’s slacks and spotless crewneck.
Harry has no choice but he gets a free meal out of it. Roderick’s mum is sweet and by the end of the meal he understands his roommate a lot better, knows everything about where he’s from—Sunderland, and is invited to “drop by for tea” anytime he’s up north.
Roderick invites Harry to a get-together for first years happening somewhere off campus but Harry feels sensed out and tells him he was calling it a night. Rod looks disappointed but leaves without him. Harry almost feels disappointed in himself. He was supposed to have a different life being in uni, but he didn’t want to make old mistakes and try to be someone he wasn’t.
***
Freshers week is both invigorating and exhausting for Harry as he tries to navigate all of the personalities and social groups without falling back into his usual ways. He attends the talks and the tours, one in which he meets Mikey who was also planning on joining debate club. Harry goes to mixers and breaks so much ice he’s sure he could get a part time job as an ice sculptor.
Harry also attends the workshops and he meets a few more friends there, but mostly when he signs up for clubs he’s interested and goes to their mixers he finds people he clicks with very easily. He doesn’t spot Rod once or anyone else he would have known from school.
On Thursday Harry heads to Newsroom Society Club which was a fancy title for the uni’s reporting club. He has a few new friends he’s made, Florence from one of the workshops and Gabriel who lived in the same hall as Harry as well as Mikey. They were all interested in being part of reporting—the newspaper or the podcast.
Harry stumbles into a projector when he spots her.
“You alright?” Gabriel grabs Harry’s jacket to hold him steady. All eyes are on him as the slideshow on the wall tips off balance and he’s bright as a tomato.
“Yeah I didn’t see that there,” Harry lies.
“Kinda hard to miss,” YN pipes in from where she stands.
Looking at her reminds Harry of the summer. It felt like a dream looking back on it, how they became friends and then quickly drifted off after he stupidly misread her cues and tried to kiss her. Although it was one of the few times he had gotten drunk and he was out of his depth when it happened. But YN had avoided him after that. He knew they were going to the same school but he didn’t think he’d see her this early on.
Harry’s new friends eye YN, assuming she was being rude just because. But when Harry acknowledges her they settles down.
“YN. Hi.” Harry waves awkwardly.
“Harry,” she says coolly.
“You’re here for the paper?”
“The show actually,” YN nods. The girl she’s talking to touches her arm and motions she was heading elsewhere.
“Oh me too,” Florence pipes in. “I’m Florence by the way.”
“I’m Mikey,” his other friend says as if Flo opened a gateway to YN. “I’m also interested in it. Not sure if I’m staying though.”
YN eyes his friends and returns her gaze to Harry. “Neat. I’m YN.”
“You two know each other?” Mikey asks.
“Yeah,” Harry says as YN says “Unfortunately.”
There’s an awkward beat as the group tries to figure out if she’s joking it not. When her lips curl into a small smile and they take the cue to laugh. It amazed Harry how well YN could command a group. Even now.
“Are you going for any other clubs?” Flo continues asking YN.
“I was thinking tennis, I used to play.” YN says and Harry’s surprised to hear that. He’s reminded he didn’t know her much—he never really got to know her that well despite all the time together. She was a closed book on a lot of things. “How about you?”
“Yeah I’m thinking of joining the volunteer committee!”
“Yeah what do they do?” YN asks. “Obviously volunteering but like-“
She doesn’t need to correct herself any further as Flo launched into a onboarding speech about volunteer committee. And Harry’s mesmerized by YN as she listens to Flo attentively, it’s different to the way she interacted with him or Mikey or a lot of people. When she feels him staring her eyes flick up to meet his and then back to Flo. She does it again and he takes the hint, looking away.
He flushes remembering the summer, how things started so well and ended so terribly.
YN ends up sticking to their group as the club organizers gather everyone to do a small introduction of the Newsroom Society. When it ends and they’re left to mingle Harry’s friends ask him what they were going to do for lunch.
“I’m easy, we can go anywhere.”
“I wanted to catch the fencing match they have going on at 2,” Gabriel says. “I might stay behind-“
“Let’s just do the caf.” Harry decides.
Florence turns back to YN who’s with her friend again. “Hey we were gonna grab lunch in the caf would you want to join? Both of you?”
YN meets Harry’s eye and an awkward energy sizzles between the two. It happens so quickly.
“Soph?” YN asks her friend.
“Eh,” she shrugs. “Okay. I’m Sophie by the way…”
Introductions are made all over again and YN and Harry are left herding the crowd from behind at the end if it.
“Hi,” Harry says as they fall into step.
She eyes him first before responding, “Hi.”
Silence as the group ahead chatters away.
“How’ve you been?” Harry attempts small talk.
“Fine.” She replies without returning the question. Harry gets the hint and grits his teeth. It was frustrating knowing she had glued herself shut and it would require a tool he didn’t have to get her to open again.
At lunch she continues to gloss over anything he says and talking with everyone enthusiastically but him, making him feel like he was in secondary all over again.
“We should do this again,” Florence suggests. “You guys are fun.”
Harry thinks Flo just liked having girls to talk to since most of the friends she’d made so far had been Harry and his.
“Yeah,” Soph agrees. “Maybe we’ll all make the Newsroom Society. Flo I think I’ll come to the volunteer thing with you next week just text me when it is.”
Somehow Harry’s friends intermingle with YN’s and by the time classes actually starts he’s seen YN socially more often than he had in secondary.
“YN,” Harry catches her walking out of their international business course. He’d found they had two classes together despite deciding different majors.
She glances up at her name and upon seeing Harry continues walking.
“Hey YN,” he walks ahead enough to stop her.
“Hey. What?” She asks.
“Can we talk?”
She raises a brow.
“C’mon,” Harry turns and hopes she’ll follow. She does. He leads them to a seating area for students in the building’s courtyard. “We should talk.”
“About?”
“Us.” Harry fidgets. “Look, I know what I did last summer wasn’t right. And being drunk wasn’t an excuse. I…I misread the signs and I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to betray your trust like that and. Yeah. I’m really sorry. If we’re gonna hang out and be mates, it’s weird when you’re always mad at me.”
She stares at him for an uncomfortable period and Harry can’t hold eye contact the whole time.
“How many times did you practice saying that?” She asks with a straight expression.
He laughs, “A few times.”
Like the sun after a thunderstorm, her smile slowly brightens the rest of her face as it stretches over her face.
“For the record, don’t ever try to kiss me ever again.” YN lists on her fingers. “Secondly, there will never be signs between us as anything more than friends so just…don’t look for them. We’re just friends.”
“Got it,” Harry mock salutes.
“I’m not done,” she holds up three fingers. “Thirdly, it’s nice seeing you be less…secondary Harry.”
“What?”
“Y’know like, bookish awkward nerdy Harry. You’ve actually got friends, I saw you at a couple parties. It’s nice!”
“Oh,” Harry didn’t think YN thought about him at all. He thought he went back to being a nobody but she was still noticing things about him. Things he thought only he had picked up on.
She was right—he felt more himself the longer he was at uni. It wasn’t easy but he found it easier to make decisions about people and friends, emotions and conversations when the pressure to fit into a box fell away.
Of course, Harry still struggled connecting with his roommate. After declining his initial invite to a party Rod mostly kept to himself and sometimes Harry was asked to give him privacy a few hours some evenings. Harry usually obliged, wanting to still be friends with Roderick.
One of the parties YN saw him at must have been one Rod invited him to. It was the first time he’d really spoken to him since that first day. And Harry had gone to the party just to reduce the friction with Rod. It went over well, he’d even chatted up a girl.
“Anyway,” YN hitches her bag onto her shoulder. “My next class is much later in the day so I’m gonna find a place to crash until then.”
“When is it?”
“Like, 5?”
“Shit, you commuted for our 10 and have to stay that late?”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “It was the only way I could fit both classes into this semester.”
“D’you…” Harry reconsiders the rules she’d given him. He didn’t think this was breaking any. “D’you want to come go my dorm? You could…nap or something.”
Her face lights up, “Wait really?”
“Yeah?”
“Um yeah? If that’s alright if-“
“Yeah,” Harry’s pleased to be able to offer something that’s made her light up. “Yeah c’mon. My roommate should be out. My next class is at half past 1 though.”
“That’s enough time for a nap,” YN says as she falls into step beside him.
“You don’t have to leave.” Harry tells her. “You can stay while I’m in class.”
That’s how Harry finds himself walking out of his dorm quietly so as not to wake a sleeping YN. She had knocked out soon after getting into his sheets, and he’s thankful he’d just washed them over the weekend after accidentally spilling tea all over them.
He felt bad that she had to commute for nearly 2 hours and stay the whole day for an evening class. He gives her an open invitation to use his dorm as a hotel when she wanted. She’d corrected him it was more like a motel, and then said his bedsheets smelled surprisingly nice for a motel.
Harry has a smile for most of his walk to class.
Near the end of class his phone vibrates with a text.
Roderick: there’s a girl sleeping on your bed?
Shit, Harry didn’t think he’d be back before him.
Harry: that’s just YN, sorry hope you don’t mind.
R: nah I just wasn’t expecting it lol
H: she’s just crashing
R: she single?
H: what happened to the girl you were hooking up with last week?
Despite not talking a lot, Harry still had the lowdown on who Rod was hooking up with because of the revolving door of girls.
R: mate. That was last week.
Harry rushes back from class but to his surprise he finds YN sitting in bed braiding her hair while Rod leans against his desk explaining something about Sunderland.
“Oh hey Harry,” YN says when he walks in.
“Hey,” Harry tries not to sound too out of breath. “Uh I see you two’ve met.”
“Yeah. YN’s pretty cool, where’ve you been hiding her?”
“I’m not-“
“Ew,” YN cuts him off. “Do they not teach manners in Sunderland?”
Harry watches, for the first time since he’s met him, Roderick stammer and look uncertain.
“Anyway,” YN gets off the bed and adjusts her clothes. “Thanks for letting me crash.”
Harry watched Rod get a hold of himself and YN put her bag back together again. That was the privilege of being so beautiful, she could shame guys like Rod into behaving themselves.
“See you Friday?” YN tells Harry. They had a Newsroom Society meeting. Harry ended up making the cut for the paper along with Gabriel and Flo. YN had made it for the podcast and this week was when they first got assignments.
“Yeah,” Harry says. YN walks past him, squeezing him arm and walking out.
“Marra,” Rod blow the air out of his cheeks. “She’s….something. You should invite her to the party Friday if she’s on campus.”
“Yeah I’ll ask,” Harry says. Weird how the tables have turned, he thinks. Here he would be, inviting YN to a party.
***
Harry doesn’t get a chance to catch up with YN until after Newsroom. He asks her if she was doing anything afterwards.
“Nope,” she rubs her temple. “I have a Saturday shift to work so I was just gonna head home after this.”
“Oh.” Harry says. He forgot she worked. “I was gonna invite you to this party-“
“You?” She points to him and laugh. “You’re inviting me?”
“Erm yeah?”
“I love it.” She says seriously.
“Yeah,” a smile tugs at his lips. “I know. But if you’re busy-“
“Oh no. I’ll show up to a party you’re inviting me to, where is it?”
Harry gives her the place. She tells him one of her friends was trying to get here there too.
“Whatever, I’ll just suffer the consequences tomorrow. Although I’m not dressed for a party at all.”
Harry eyes her hoodie and jeans. Even he knew YN dressed up more for parties.
“Too bad you’re not a girl,” she sighs. “I could just borrow something from your closet.”
“How about the friend you mentioned?”
“She lives a town over so she commutes. Wait, let me see your closet maybe we can make something work.”
“Don’t you make fun of my closet?”
“No I make fun when you wear it. It might look hot on me.”
The idea of YN looking hot in his clothes forces the blood to rush to his head and he has to take a few deep breaths before trailing behind.
Rod’s nowhere in sight when they get to his dorm. Harry unloads his backpack and splays out on his bed, tired from the day and really not wanting to go to any parties.
“This could be cute,” YN unhooks a plain white tee from his closet and throws it on his bed. She picks up a sweater and a short-sleeved button up. She holds them up to her and instructs him to turn around while she tries it on.
Harry’s so tired that turned around he ends up falling asleep, half his body still dangling off the bed.
While uni was really fun for him, and getting to explore different sides of him and learn a whole lot, it was a constant rotation of something. Sometimes he wondered if he should drop a class or a club just to give himself some breathing room. Or sleeping room. But Harry wasn’t a quitter. Instead he was tired a lot of the time and felt like he was constantly catching up.
“Hello,” Harry’s woken by a vigorous shaking. YN peers down at him, lashes long and coated in mascara probably. Her lips are painted a deep pink and she’s put her hair down.
“How did you…” Harry blinks at her.
“I had some makeup in my bag, I just touched it up while you slept.” She sits down beside him. “Now what are you wearing and when are we leaving?”
“I’m just wearing this,” Harry motions to his jeans and hoodie. She raises a brow. “Wait what are you-“
He notices what she’s wearing. His white tee that hangs loose on him has been tightened into a single point on YN’s ribcage, baring her midriff. She’s kept her jeans on but somehow despite only swapping out one item of clothing she looks magnetic.
“Wow.”
“I know right,” she gets up to allow him the full picture even though he didn’t want to ogle any more. “I just went with one of your tees, used a hair tie to style it. I’ll wear my bomber on top. And you can change your hoodie at least. You’ll look like a slob in that, it’s not going to impress any girls.”
“What if I don’t want to impress any girls?”
“Don’t forget I caught you flirting with Sophie last week.” She warns him.
It was embarrassing, Soph had been talking through one of the articles they were assigned to think about for Newsroom and it had turned flirty when Sophie started teasing him. Harry had recently felt more confident in the girl department and he’d flirted back until YN had dropped into the conversation pretending to gag at Harry.
Harry wondered if Sophie would be at the party. He should have texted her to ask.
“Let’s not talk about that.”
“I would actually love to talk about that,” she grins. “But I do want to head out. So wear this and let’s go.”
She throws Harry a crewneck and taps her foot. When she doesn’t make a move to look away he changes in front of her and doesn’t meet her eye.
“You’ve got a tattoo?” YN sounds surprised as he gets his arms into the crewneck.
“Huh?” Harry realizes she’s staring at his ribcage. He forgot he had a tattoo, not often looking at himself naked in the mirror. “Oh yeah. Caleb and I got it for our 18th before we went to uni. He’s moved to Canada for uni so-“
“You’re full of surprises aren’t you.” YN says in a quieter voice than usual. Harry’s hands are still trapped in his sweater, halfway to his head, when she steps closer and traces her hand over the numbers. Her hands are cold and unexpected and he gasps.
“Sorry,” she looks up at him but he can barely look at her. She was touching his bare torso. “Was that cold?”
“Yeah,” Harry clears his throat.
“Any others?” She asks.
He shakes his head, his voice sticking in his throat. He couldn’t move, he was too busy concentrating on breathing.
He slowly pulls his jumper on the rest of the way and only when they head out does he feel safe enough to talk. He tells YN how he planned on getting more tattoos eventually, once he figured out what he liked. It was a bit scary being so permanent but he liked the way he could express himself or hold memories on his skin.
They talk about it until they reach the dorms the party was at.
“Catch you inside,” YN says as they enter. “Don’t get too drunk.”
“Never again” Harry shouts after her. She waves without turning around.
He thought they would hang out here together but he finds himself wandering the dorms until he spots Mikey. He becomes absorbed in Mikey’s group of friends and forgets he’d been here with YN.
At some point Harry finds himself the centre of attention of a girl from his intro to biology class. Mary. She’s cute with a shoulder-length brown hair and animated eyes. When she smiles at Harry he feels his heart flutter.
“What about weirdest?” She asks Harry. They were talking about their shared interest in cults.
“Raelian,” Harry responds. “Have you heard of them?”
“Ooh no tell me about it,” she shuffles closer to him in the stranger’s room they were talking in. Harry had been nursing his drink for the last couple hours and he’d nearly made it look like it was done.
His phone vibrates in his pocket and he ignores it. When it goes off again Mary raises her brow.
“D’you need to get that?”
“I dunno,” Harry pulls out YN flipping him off on screen. He still hadn’t changed her photo.
“Harry!” He hears his name shouted from the hall just as the call ends.
“Is somebody actually calling you?” Mary furrows her brows.
“I don’t-“ his name is shouted again but louder.
The two of them shuffle to the hall and YN’s unmistakable face comes into view.
“Harry!” She says in a loud and happy tone. “I found you!”
“YN,” Harry glances at Mary nervously. She seems concerned. “What happened?”
“What didn’t happen amirite?” She elbows him. “Anyway. I don’t feel well and I am going home.”
“Drunk?” Harry scratches his head. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You’ve got like nearly 2 hours on the train.”
“And?” She shrugs. “I’ll sleep it off.”
“You can’t do that.” Harry insists.
“Well good thing you’re,” she points her finger into his chest and tilts forward. “Not the boss of me. Oh hey. We haven’t met!”
She spots Mary beside him and she bows to her.
“Heh. Harry. And Mary.” YN points between them.
“D’you need help?” Mary asks. “With her?”
“I don’t need help!” YN shouts. “I’m cool. I’m fun. I’m totally alright.”
“You’re really not,” Harry grits his teeth. He was finally hitting it off with Mary and of course YN had to go and get drunk and ruin it.
Technically he did invite her to the party though. Did that make her his responsibility? Harry wasn’t too sure about that sort of thing.
“I did an amazing job at Ring of Fire,” YN slurs. “Phe-nnnnn-omm-enal.”
“I am going to get her out of here,” Harry tells Mary. He twists his mouth to the side and hopes he looks as sorry as he felt. “I invited her so…”
“That’s alright! That’s what friends are for right?” She smiles. “I’ll see you in class?”
“Yeah!” Harry nods. “I’ll see you.”
With a final exchange of smiles Harry grabs YN by the shoulders and gets her out of the building. The whole time she talks about random things from the night that Harry couldn’t care less about.
“YN why did you get so bloody drunk,” Harry says outside his building. It was a co-ed so it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for both of them to go in but Harry wanted to sneak her into his room.
“I didn’t mean to,” she says. “I wasn’t even gonna stay this long.”
Her voice pitches down and she becomes droopier in Harry’s arms. His arms hurt; he should use the gym on campus more often.
“What happened?” Harry continues to entertain her.
She doesn’t say until they reach his room. He prays Rod would still be at the party and breathes a sigh of relief when the other side of the room is empty.
“Sit here,” Harry places YN on his bed and finds a water bottle for her. “Drink.”
“I can’t, I need to piss.”
Harry groans. “Why didn’t you say earlier?”
“I forgot,” she whispers. “Sorry.”
He points the toilets out to her and leaves the door open a crack so she can find her way back. Her mascara’s running when she gets back.
“Were you crying?” He asks.
“No! I tried to take this stupid stuff off.” She sighs. “It really is waterproof.”
Harry shakes his head, YN was a right state and he didn’t really know what to do. She’s always the one in control and in command. He remembers his sister using makeup wipes but he didn’t have any. He improvises with kleenex but she complains that it hurt. He tries dousing one in water but the makeup barely budges.
“Just let me sleep in it,” she complains.
“And get it all over my bedsheets?” Harry shakes his head. “No way.”
“Oils,” YN leans back in his bed anyway. “If you’ve got oil. Or balms. Whatever.”
Harry rummages through the room and manages to find a hair product his sister bought him with oils. He puts some on the kleenex but YN is snoring in bed by the time he gets up to her.
“C’mon,” he taps her face. “Did you seriously fall asleep already?”
“No,” YN cracks an eye open. “I’m up.”
“Good. Here use this.” He offers her the wipe but she whines until Harry gives in and helps her wipe it off. It makes his heart race and he tries not to breathe her in too much. Despite smelling like a brewery, underneath that she smells like YN. The one he knew last summer.
“You can’t sleep in my bed with this on.” Harry complains. Who knows where those jeans have been.
“M’not sleeping in my underwear,” she mumbles. “You wish.”
“Trust me I don’t,” Harry didn’t even sleep in his underwear. “I’ll give you some sweatpants. Please change into them.”
“You’re the worst,” she whines. But does as he says, moving like a sloth. She peels off his tshirt and slides into his sheets and Harry avoids looking at her in her sports bra. At least it wasn’t a lacy one.
She was just a friend. They had both made an agreement. Friends slept in the same bed. He’d probably shared a bed with Caleb before—this was fine.
Harry creeps under his sheets and tries to keep space between YN and himself but she tucks herself into his side and is out like a light.
***
Harry wakes to a shock of cold on his thigh. His eyes rip open and he yanks himself away from the freeze.
It takes him a moment to register YN giggling beside him.
“What the fuck!” Harry groans and turns on his back. At some point he’d turned towards YN and they’d probably slept facing each other. It was better than any other alternative he figured.
“Sorry,” she says without sounding a single bit sorry. “I just had to do it.”
“I literally let you crash in the same tiny bed as me and you repay me like that!?” Harry says to the ceiling. Sleep still tries to pull him back in but he fights it—with YN up he probably wasn’t going to get any more sleep.
“Okay no I shouldn’t have done that sorry.” She apologizes. “You wouldn’t happen to have like paracetamol or-“
“It’s in the desk drawer—what are you—ow!”
YN had started climbing over him as he answered and nearly kneed him between the legs.
“Sorry!” She whispers. Harry glances at his roommate to find him sleeping in his bed. He hoped Rod was too drunk to notice YN in his bed when he came in.
Harry decides to just get up then and eventually he walks YN to the bus terminal both of them full on caf coffee and breakfast. She was going to cut it close for her shift but she didn’t seem to care.
“Thanks for taking care of me last night,” YN says as the bus comes into view. She doesn’t look him in the eye as she says it and he can barely look at her saying it. “You didn’t have to and you did.”
“It’s nothing,” Harry says, equally uncomfortable with YN’s vulnerability.
“I saw an ex,” she meets his gaze. “I didn’t think I’d run into him after all this time. That’s kinda why I drank more than I intended. I wasn’t supposed to inconvenience you—hey, weren’t you talking to some girl last-“
“Yeah,” Harry hoped Mary wasn’t too weirded out by YN. “It’s fine. I’ve got class with her.”
“Oh I’m sorry,” she slaps her hand to her forehead. “I hope I didn’t make things weird. I owe you.”
“It’s alright,” Harry finally meets her eye and realizes it was alright. He could be friends with YN and maybe this could work. “It’s what friends do.”
“Really?” She asks.
He nods. “I’ll help you home from any party.”
“Awww,” she wrings her arms around Harry’s neck and he takes a step back to steady her. He forces his brain to think only friendly thoughts, and not how steady his hand feels on her lower back or how nice her hair smells, as he returns the hug. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”
She leans back and pats his face. “You’re growing up so much. Look at how much nicer you are.”
Harry blushes and she laughs at him as she runs to catch the bus. He watches the bus wink out of sight and sighs.
It was in part thanks to YN he’s grown so much, she forced him out of his shell and pointed out all the ways his intellect can get in the way of being a nice person. And being out of school helped the rest of the way; Harry’s contemplative on his walk back home.
***
“What about orange juice and biscuits?” Mary asks.
Harry thinks about it before shaking his head, “No. it doesn’t make sense.”
The two were having dinner together in the caf. Ever since the party last month they’ve spent more time together in between classes. They weren’t dating but there was a heavy chemistry between them. Harry didn’t realize, Mary was just waiting for them to make the first move.
“Crisps and jam?”
“Why?” Harry scrunches his face imagining the weird food combination. Mary was reading off an article she was reading when he sat down at her table.
She shrugs, “Apparently it’s moreish.”
Harry liked Mary a lot but he sometimes felt he paled next to her, like if he asked her out and she really got to know him she might not like him as much. So he kept her at arm’s length.
“What’s more-ish is the bile coming up my throat thinking of that.”
“A lot of these are pregnancy cravings!” Mary says. “What do we know?”
“Who’s pregnant?” Flo asks as she sits beside Mary. Mikey joins the table too.
“Nobody’s pregnant,” Harry corrects. “We’re just reading an article.”
“No actually, the computer science prof that everyone hates is pregnant. She’s not teaching next semester anyone who’s interested should take it then.” Flo informs the group.
“Can you imagine?” Mary turns to her. “Being so hated that the one semester you’re not teaching there’s a massive waiting list on your course?”
The group begins to discuss this particular prof and Harry fades into a listener. Mary catches his eye a few times and sends a bright smile his way and Harry keeps it tucked within.
Now a couple months into uni Harry was starting to find a rhythm that he was able to ride. He had more friends than he’s ever had, regularly went to parties and hung out with them, Rod and him were good friends by some way of YN, and uni challenged Harry’s brain in a good way.
Him and YN didn’t hang out very much but he often saw her at parties, in the Newsroom, or if he came back to his dorm while she napped. If had become part of their regular schedule for her to use his dorm to nap and Harry was more than happy to let her. Rod was too—even happier than Harry sometimes.
“Are you going to the Halloween thing Harry?” Mikey asks.
“Huh?” Harry had zoned out. “Uh I think so. Yeah. Why not?”
“Awesome,” Flo says. “We should go together.”
“We’re not doing matching costumed Flo,” Harry says for the tenth time this month.
“Why not?!” She cries. The table becomes noisy again as they argue the same thing they’ve argued since October started. Harry feels at home.
***
Just finished my mid-term, Harry texts Mary. We should celebrate with drinks later.
Yeah after I finish mine later today, would love to. Mary texts back.
Harry smiles at his phone and switches chat to YN.
Are you still at mine?
She doesn’t reply and Harry figures she’s either sleeping or maybe writing a mid-term. He knew she had one later this afternoon—the same class as Mary.
Uni turned out to be a small world, he’d found a few people he already knew in these halls and somehow new friends and old acquaintances had all mingled together.
The good thing was now that he regularly wore contacts and started putting in some effort in how he looked, a lot of his old classmates either walked past him with no recognition or spoke to him like they weren’t the reason he had one friend in secondary.
It still took some adjusting to: here he was, bottom-rung at his old school, asking someone at the top rung if she was still sleeping in his bed. It was mad.
Harry turns the key of his door and freezes at what’s before him.
His roommate Roderick sits on his bed with his back to the wall and someone looking very much like—no it was YN because her jacket lay on his bed, straddling his lap. YN and his roommate were making out.
“What is this?” Harry asks when his senses return. “What’s going on?”
“Oh hey Har,” Rod looks past YN. He was so casual, Harry felt a little crazy at thinking this was a big deal.
“Oh,” YN turns and unhooks her legs from around Rod. “You’re done your exam. How was it?”
Were they insane it was he just a prude? Harry’s roommate was making out with his friend. That regularly crashed in his room. Has this been going on for a while?
“Good. Fine. YN can we talk?” Harry asks.
“Sure,” YN climbs off the bed and fixes her lipstick whilst passing the mirror. Harry nods to the hall and she steps out. “What’s up?”
“What…what’s going on there?”
“What? Rod?”
“Obviously!”
“Oh my god Har, it’s nothing serious we were just making out.”
“For how long?”
“I dunno? Why do you want to know?”
“No like how long have you two been hooking up?”
“We were just making out today why’ve you got your panties in a twist?”
“So this is the first time?”
“No…we made out at a party last week. Anyway I was just studying on your bed after getting a nap in and he walked in. It got flirty, one thing led to another-“
“I’m not comfortable with this.” Harry clenched his teeth. He didn’t know why but it felt wrong they were doing this in his room. After he’d opened it up for her to give her a break from the constant commuting. What if things go sour between them and Rod takes it out on him? What if she ruins the vibe of their dorm?
“Harry,” YN lays a hand on his shoulder with a serious face. “You know I’ve kissed boys before. Done even more than-“
“This isn’t a joke,” Harry brushes her hand off. “I don’t feel comfortable with you doing…that in the room.”
“So now you’re deciding who I can see-“
“No!” Harry shouts a bit too loud and someone on the other end of the hall looks up. “No. You know that’s not what I’m saying. I don’t care who you hook up with YN. Just not in my room with my roommate. Do whatever you want with him at parties but not in my room. I don’t care what you do. Just…not in my room.”
Harry shuts up once he realizes he’s repeating himself. He hopes she understands.
“Fine.” She does her classic move. She shuts down. “I’ll be a devout virgin in your room. Outside I’ll be the wild child I am.”
“YN don’t twist this,” Harry sighs. “Why do you do that?”
“I’ve got an exam in a couple hours.” She opens the door. “I should go.”
“Already?” Rod says as they walk in.
“Harry’s made a request about us,” YN shoots him a look and Harry wants to take that look and throw it back at her. He was going to break it to Rod differently knowing how tenuous the balance of their friendship was. But now she’s just dropped it like a bomb in the middle of their dorm.
“What?” Rod looks at Harry.
Harry flushes but he tries to look at Rod when he tells him, “I think it’s weird you two making out here. You can do that anywhere just not here. My roommate and my friend…it’s weird.”
Rod blinks, Harry thinks he’s zoned out until he shrugs. “Nee bother. I respect it Harry. I’ll catch you out there then YN.”
YN looks between the boys, her hands holding her bag are curled into fists and with one last angry look to Harry she exits the room.
“Doesn’t look like she’s too chuffed with you man.” Rod pipes in from behind.
She wasn’t chuffed with him half the time, Harry was now used to it.
***
The Halloween party is packed like sardines and Harry considers leaving. Mary had come down with a flu and she’d also been avoiding him the last week. Gabe said she’s probably tired of him not doing anything about their mutual crush, Flo thinks she needs space, and YN says she found someone new to fantasize about but Harry thinks the last one is mostly to get under his skin.
Ever since that day in his dorm YN’s gone back to being bristly with Harry. It doesn’t bother him most days but it does frustrate him on a few.
“Harry!” A familiar face waves him down. The party was in off-campus student res and it was decorated like somebody had gone batshit on Amazon. Just walking toward Sophie, Harry had gotten a faceful of smoke, fake cobwebs, and bubbles for some reason.
“Soph! How’s it going?” Harry hadn’t seen Sophie since she quit Newsroom a few weeks ago. With midterms and club deadlines clashing she decided she couldn’t do both and left the club.
“So much better,” her brightened eyes and large smile fixed on her face clued Harry in that she’d already started drinking. “But I miss the Newsroom crew. How is everyone?”
“We’re fine—you know you could still hang out with us? We’re around.”
“Ugh I know,” she sways towards him. “But I feel like I hardly have time to be social. Social. Does that sound weird—so-shul?”
“I think you’re a bit drunk Soph,” Harry points to her cup.
“Oh yeah,” she laughs. “What about you? You don’t even have a drink!”
“I…I was gonna go get one.” Harry lies. He was actually gonna go home.
“Okay! Someone had shots going.”
She grabs his hand and it tingles. She races around until she finds the half-empty vodka and demands Harry do shots with her. He nearly chokes on it and coughs uncontrollably which sets Soph off.
“Are you alright?” She slaps his back harder than she looks like she could. “You need a chaser hold up!”
She disappears behind the table and pulls out lime wedges from god knows where. She instructs Harry how to do it even though he didn’t want any more but she doesn’t relent.
The second time is a lot smoother but Harry realizes he really did not like vodka either.
“Soph! Har! You two know each other?!” Roderick suddenly walks in on them, crashing the two with an arm around both. “Small worlds!”
“Hey Rod,” Soph’s glow dims a little.
“Now what kind of hello is that? And what are you supposed to be?”
“Scream queen right?” Harry asks as Soph says “Scream Queen duh?”
Rod frowns and takes his arms down. “Well I can make you scream, qu-“
“Alright,” Harry and Soph eye each other. Harry has been to enough parties with Rod to know what level of drunk meant what level of no filter. And it was best they left him alone now. “We’ll see you around mate.”
“Thank you,” Soph whispers in his ear as she loops her arm and they walk away.
“What’s going on with you two?” Harry asks. He’s learned enough to know Sophie soured at the sight of him.
“Really?” She asks.
“Really—what?”
“Him and YN were hooking up a few weeks ago. He was just…ekgh.”
“That’s not a word,” Harry laughs.
“I know!” She throws her hands up, one of which holds a knife.
“Alright,” Harry holds his up. “It’s a word.”
She throws her head back and laughs, then wields the knife against his throat.
“Woah, Soph.”
“It’s fake!” She laughs again.
“Yeah thank god,” Harry lowers it and she tumbles into him with the pressure she had put on it.
“Oops,” she smiles up at him. “Hey how d’you know Scream Queens?”
Blood rushes to Harry’s head as she looks up at him through her lashes. Soph was beautiful—she always had been. But tonight she looks particularly beautiful. It could be the vodka. But he wanted to kiss her.
“I watched it over the summer with…” Harry had watched it with YN. This was YN’s friend. Maybe he shouldn’t kiss her.
“Hm?” She inches her arm up and loops it around his neck. Her head tilts to one side and Harry feels the vodka flood his brain while his blood rushes another direction. “You’ve got really nice eyes.”
“So do you.” Harry barely gets out.
“Our babies would have amazing eyes.” She says with complete seriousness. Obviously she was drunk.
“Yeah. Uhm,” Harry tries to push her away. He does, or he tells himself that. But when she stands on the balls of her feet Harry felt it was rude to not meet her halfway. Not press his lips against her strawberry-flavoured plush ones. It felt amazing.
“D’you wanna go somewhere?” She whispers in his ear.
Harry doesn’t want to. He just wants her to shut up so they can keep kissing.
He leads her gently to the wall and continues kissing her, displaying what he’s learned in his two months at uni. And the noises she makes does unspeakable things to Harry.
“C’mon!” She urges to him. “Surely one of the bedrooms are free!”
At the thought his mind clears for a single moment. Should he be doing this? Was his first time really going to be at a Halloween party with Soph?
“I don’t have any-“
“That’s alright!” She tugs him back to her. “Let’s just see where the night takes us.”
“You’ve got to lose the knife though,” Harry says against her lips.
She laughs and tucks it into his back pocket. “Okay?”
Her laugh scatters away the remaining rational thought and he follows her wherever she takes him.
***
“Alright team,” the head of Newspaper stands addressing the crowd. “This has been an incredible year of reporting. I think we’ve done a fantastic job and I want to commend you all on your efforts and time lent to our humble club. Our final edition is going to print today, and the year’s final episode releases this Friday. So do give it a listen. Next year we’ll be back invigorated with more stories to tell. Have a great holiday all!”
Harry’s eyes roam the room, feeling content at being part of this hard-working group.
Despite only a semester on the Newspaper Harry felt really bonded with everyone. The team was big, split into print and podcast and yet despite not knowing everyone, the passion for stories and reporting was palpable. Especially release weeks.
Over the semester Harry had gotten even closer to Florence and Gabriel, it made Newsroom feel even more collaborative. And they often grabbed a bite after Newsroom or they would sometimes go to Gabriel’s and play video games. YN would join occasionally.
YN, only being a first year, was often frustrated being sidelined by seniors. Her friends often heard about it after particular Newsroom meetings. Still, YN on the podcast team made waves and Harry knew because her name was often on a lot of projects or on the lips of a lot of seniors. It made him proud to be her friend, often it reminded him of how he used to think about her. But Newsroom was a perfect example of how they both had separate strengths and how they flourished in each of them. He’s glad he realized that last year.
Harry’s eyes continue to dart to the door, checking his phone. It was weird y/n didn’t show up today when she should have. Especially the final meeting.
When the group goes for dinner in the caf Harry spots their friend Sophie.
What started as hooking up at Halloween ended in a few other hook-ups over the last month or so. Each time Harry felt incredibly guilty but Soph was really nice to him and nice to kiss too. Plus, Mary had stopped hanging out with him without another word and he wasn’t exactly sure what he did for that. So he’d given her space.
“Y/n wasn’t at today’s meeting, shame.” Flo says to Soph. “D’you know where she is?l
“No, that’s strange. I saw her earlier today?” Soph looks at the group.
“Me too,” Gabe adds. “She’s around.”
“Yeah it is strange,” Harry comments. “She’s usually on time, or at least sends us a text if she can’t make it.”
“I hope everything’s okay,” Flo scrunches her brows.
“I’m sure it is.” Sophie reassures her.
She turns to Harry with a secret smile, one hand sliding onto his thigh. “Any plans after this?”
“Oh!” Harry startles as her hand slides higher up his thigh. This was so…public. “Maybe. Uhm. Soph can we talk?”
He’d wanted to talk to her all week but had been so busy with exams. He thought about it a lot and really didn’t think sneaking behind y/n’s back with her friend was right. Especially after he asked her not to hook up with Rod in his room and she stopped.
Sophie shrugs and follows him off to the side.
“We need to talk,” Harry starts, he waves between both of them. “About this.”
“Yeah?” Sophie asks.
“Yeah. And. About Y/n.”
Sophie just notices the serious tone to Harry’s voice. She stops playing with her hair and stands taller. “Okay. What about her?”
Harry takes a deep breath, trying to articulate his thoughts. “I’ve just been thinking with us being her friend, she doesn’t know about us. I don’t want to sneak behind her back give her another reason to have trust issues—she’s been through a lot.”
“Yeah,” Soph agrees. “Y/n’s strong. She’s got like, that tough quiet strength she just exudes it always. I admire that about her.”
Harry nods, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Exactly. She’s really loyal to her friends, and I don’t want to screw anything up. I just…don’t think she’d approve of this.”
Sophie’s eyes soften with understanding. “Oh.”
“What?”
“You…care about her don’t you?”
“Well uhm yeah she’s my friend I-I yeah-“
“Like care about her.” Soph cuts off Harry’s stuttering. He felt like an idiot.
“Uhhh…”
“Be honest,” Soph curls the side of her mouth. “It’s not like we’re dating I don’t like care if you do.”
“Yeah fine. More than I probably should yeah,” he sighs. “But she’s made it clear we’re nothing more than friends. And I’m fine with that but we go way back and she’s helped me though a lot. I just don’t want to lose her. As a friend. But you’re a really great person too Soph I don’t want to lose. And I don’t want it to get complicated here.”
“I get it,” Sophie shrugs. “But it doesn’t have to be complicated. Or a secret. We’re just having fun!”
“Yeah I just don’t want to jeopardize anything.”
Unbeknownst to Harry and Sophie, y/n enters the caf then and spots the two before spotting their usual table. She heads towards Harry and Sophie first, curious as to why they were separated in what looked like an intense discussion.
“Fine. I get it!” Sophie continues.
“I’ve screwed up with her enough.” Harry says as y/n gets within hearing distance. “I hate feeling like I’m walking on egshells around her.”
“YN’s a tough cookie,” Soph agrees. “I’d be scared to be on her bad side.”
“I’ve been on it. Kinda made my life hell. It’s like facing a lion with just a stick.”
“You poor thing,” Soph touches Harry’s cheek and laughs just as her phone vibrates. “Oh that’s Emmy hold on.”
Harry smiles as she steps away but it dies as y/n steps into view.
“Oh y/n…how long-“
“Walking on eggshells? Didn’t realize being around me was such a burden-“
“No y/n that’s not the-“
“Save it Harry,” her eyes flicker with hurt.
“No seriously!” Harry tries to explain. “I wasn’t saying it like that!”
“You compared me to a fucking lion!”
“Let me explain-“
“After everything I told you about me I thought we got each other Har-“ Y/n cuts herself off as her throat closes with tears. She was not the type to cry in front of anyone, especially a boy. She waits for the feeling to subside. “It’s pretty clear where I stand. And by the way, talking me down isn’t going to make you look good with Soph.”
“Y/n please,” Harry feels her slipping away again and he envisions taking her by the shoulder and giving her a good shake. He hated when she did this, like the tides at a beach she retreated so quickly all he was left with was sand. She never left enough time for someone to grab her.
“Just…whatever Harry.”
With that she turns on her heel and walks away, the noise in the caf suddenly comes roaring in on either side of Harry. He wants to turn the volume dial all the way down and run after her but he knows neither are possible.
“What was that?” Sophie reappears.
“She heard the wrong end of our conversation.” Harry says with dread. “I didn’t mean for her to hear it like that. She must think…I don’t even know what she must think.”
“Mmm,” Sophie squeezes Harry’s shoulder. “Just give her space. I’ll ask her what she heard and explain don’t worry. She’ll come around.”
Harry wasn’t so sure.
***
Harry watches as Mary enters the bar and looks around. For a moment he can just be another bloke seeing Mary for the first time wondering what she’s like with her cropped hair and animated brown eyes. He feels his heart picking up speed the longer he watches her—he can’t believe it took him this long to ask her out officially.
Although it wasn’t entirely his fault.
Harry didn’t think Mary would ever be interested in him on a deeper level—he definitely wouldn’t date himself. And when Mary began to make excuses about hanging out last year, Harry took that as a big glaring sign he was right, instead of just asking her outright.
Then there was the tryst with Soph. And the fallout with y/n who cut him out of his life like she was scissors through wrapping paper. Harry acted like it didn’t hurt him but it did; after all the time they spent together he didn’t know how y/n could be so cold with people she called her friends. She didn’t even care about his explanation.
But Harry’s sister had given him an earful one night during Christmas break, about dating the girl he was really into and not being such a coward. It took him a whole month to work up the courage but on Valentine’s Day he’d asked Mary to be his. It was cheesy but she loved it. They’d hung out a few times and last week Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. He was officially in a relationship!
Mary catches his wave from the front and she breaks into her toothy smile that squeezed his heart every time it was directed his way. Falling in love made the whole world feel soppy. Harry’d never experienced something like this; in a world of learning and achievements this was one he felt really proud to get to.
“What are you smiling so hard about?” Mary teases as she reaches him. Harry kisses her and keeps her hand in his as they sit.
“Just this girl, can’t stop thinking about her.”
“Must be a lucky lady,” Mary grins. She was head over heels too.
“Nah I think I’m the lucky one.”
“God,” Mary pulls her hand away and presses them to her blushing cheeks. “You’re damn charming when you want to be Harry.”
That wasn’t a word anyone would ever use to describe him. Yet Harry feels over the moon to hear it. Here was proof he was changing—he was finally growing up.
The new couple have a few drinks with their food, they talk about school, friends, and the upcoming Easter Break.
“I’m heading home too,” Mary was originally from Liverpool. “My mum’s sister’s coming in from Australia for Easter. She’s got these little rascals I haven’t seen in years so I’ll have to see how big they’ve gotten now.”
“Are those the rascals who stole your Taylor Swift poster?”
“Signed poster,” Mary corrects him. “And yes. As payback because I caught then stealing their dad’s smokes. It’s been 3 years and I still haven’t gotten that back.”
“You really think they kept it?”
“Well we’re gonna find out,” Mary grinds her knuckles into the palm of her other hand. “I’m older and stronger now I can take them.”
Harry laughs, he loved seeing Mary when she was joking like this. Otherwise she was a bit like him when it came to studying and being serious.
“Well you’ve got a boyfriend now. I’ll make the trip if it means getting that poster back.”
“Would you!?” Mary reaches out to him. “That’s actually so sweet.”
Harry’s chest fills with warmth as she kisses him, and that sparks a different hunger. They pay their tab and head out hand in hand back to his dorm.
Rod isn’t in and they take advantage of that.
Roderick and Harry had continued their friendship despite y/n disappearing from his dorm. They’d gotten to the point where Harry declined a couple parties and Rod didn’t take it personally, and Harry actually helped Rod out with some of his studies. They worked out together and there was a better balance.
He did see y/n at parties sometimes. A couple times with Rod too. He tried to talk to her the first couple times but she always danced away just as he got to her. So he stopped trying. She was frustrating.
“Hey,” Mary kisses his jaw. “Where’d you go?”
“Sorry,” Harry had gotten lost in his head again. “I think Rod’s gonna be back soon-“
“Oh,” Mary sighs. “Okay. My roommate’s a shut in, too bad we can never go to mine.”
“If I asked him to not come home he wouldn’t,” Harry realizes Mary wanted to cross some bases too late. He really should stick to being in his body more often. He should have messaged Rod as soon as they headed here.
“Maybe next time,” Mary smiles sweetly. She wipes the side of Harry’s lips with her thumb, that’s when he realizes she was wearing lipstick. It was a subtle colour but not as much when it’s smeared on her chin. Something about seeing it like that feels endearing to him.
“Until then,” he pulls her back to him and kisses her hard, she responds in kind. Just as Harry slips his hand below her tee the doorknob jiggles. He sighs, “Fuck.”
“It’s alright,” Mary whispers below him. “That was fun.”
He peers back down at her, her lipstick is even worse but she’s looking up at him like she’s seeing him for the first time. Note to self show Mary how much I like her, Harry realizes.
This time he uses his thumb to swipe at the smudged lipstick. She smiles at him like he hung the stars.
***
Harry would have taken the train home last night to avoid the crowds but it was his last day with Mary before being apart for 2 weeks and he wanted to make the most of it. So now he pays the consequences with a packed train and barely any leg room.
The guy next to him plays some video game on his phone, the person across from that guy is already napping with her mouth open. Harry waits to see who takes the seat across and his heart drops when they finally take the seat and look up at him.
“For fuck’s sake,” she mutters.
Y/n. Of course it would be her. She’s cut her hair since the last time he saw her—now she has a fringe and he’s pretty sure layers with how much they flick outwards from her face.
“Y/n,” Harry greets her. This was going to be one long train ride. Although he wasn’t sure what she was doing here—did she move on campus this semester?
“Harry…” she says with a studied coolness.
“Nice to see you.”
“Is it?” She asks. “Look I’ll just find another-“
She gets up but Harry’s faster. He stretches out his long leg to block the corridor. She’s stuck within the 4-seater.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping you in,” Harry says with a small smile. She would be forced to sit in front of him, he would finally be able to get her to talk.
“Harry don’t be so immature move your leg.”
“That’s your seat just take it y/n.” He motions to it.
“Harry!” She tries to climb over it but Harry just raises his leg and it throws her off balance. She nearly falls backwards but Harry springs up fast enough to balance her. That’s how he finds himself standing in her personal space, one hand on her lower back and the other clutching her arm.
“Sorry,” he mumbles.
“Get. Off of me.” She replies.
He lets her go and she actually sits back down. Harry glances around and flushes as he realizes everyone around them had started staring.
“Nice hair,” Harry tries again as the train leaves the station. By then they’d been sitting in silence for at least 15 minutes.
“Yeah. Whatever.” Y/n brushes her bangs.
“So are you on campus now?” Harry continues casually.
This both surprises and irritates y/n. Usually he was very sensitive to when she was being a bitch to him, but now it seemed he was getting some enjoyment out of talking to her despite her attempt at staying cold; something had changed with him.
“No.” She answers as clipped as possible.
“So you’re taking the train home today because…”
“God Harry,” y/n sighs. “I had my last exam and stayed out too late. Now stop asking me questions like I’m in a bloody interview. Leave me alone!”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing the last couple months,” Harry grumbles. The look she gives him could cut him in half.
She studies him, what’s changed she wonders. He still didn’t meet her eye completely but he was challenging her a lot more. She wouldn’t have minded it as much if she wasn’t recovering from a killer hangover.
“So won’t be hard to continue.” She glares.
And that’s how the remaining hour or so is spent sitting across from his friend or ex-friend, whatever. In silence. Apart from a few glances her way he buries his nose in his book and texts Mary as she boards her own train.
Of course, they get off on the same platform and when Harry’s mum catches sight of y/n she insists on giving her a ride home since y/n was just going to take the bus. The two of them sit in silence as Harry’s mum asks them a dozen questions. The ride ends with an invite for dinner and a non-committal yes from y/n.
“You guys get into a fight or something?” Harry’s mum asks as they drive to their home.
“Or something,” Harry mumbles.
“It was like the the bloody DMZ in here.”
Harry shrugs. “It’s just y/n being y/n.”
“I saw her a couple weeks ago at M&S,” Harry’s mum continues. “She didn’t look so good I offered her a ride but she said she was waiting for her sister to finish her shift. D’you know what’s going on with her?”
Harry thought about it but couldn’t think of a single thing. Y/n kept her cards very close to her chest.
“No. She doesn’t share much.”
“Well do you ask?”
“No but even if I did she would just shut me out,” Harry suddenly feels defensive.
“It’s still nice to be asked,” his mum says. “Knowing someone cares enough.”
Harry looks at his mum, the words she’s saying makes sense. But it surprises him to hear them and realize just how much it made sense. How come he’s never realized that?
Maybe he was a shittier friend than he realized.
So Harry gives it a few days and shows up at y/n’s house. This time he knew exactly where to find her.
“You are?” One of y/n’s brothers answers the door. He was a couple years older than them.
“Harry I uh-is y/n home?”
“Maybe,” his brother continues to scrutinize Harry until he squirms. “Wait here.”
He waits for an eternity, sitting down on the stoop while he does. Finally the door opens behind him and y/n joins him on the stoop.
She’s in a blue sweater and pyjama pants. Harry’s surprised to see little powerpuff girls all over them. His sister used to watch that Friday evenings.
“What’re you doing here?”
“I just want to talk y/n,” Harry had practiced looking her in the eye. Just talking to her like a friend. He looks at her now. “You’ve been icing me out for months now it’s unfair. Sophie told me she told you what we were talking about, how you walked in when it sounded wrong and you’re still mad about it?”
She stares at him for a beat before sighing.
As she exhales she grows smaller in front of him until she’s drooped over, her arms circle her knees, and her head rests atop them—she’s the size of a pumpkin.
“I’m not mad at that,” she admits. “Sophie explained you didn’t mean it like that. I was more offended just at the fact that you two were talking about me. But I didn’t realize you two were close…”
“Yeah. I’m sorry about that-“
“That,” she cuts him off. “Is mostly why I was upset with you. You made such a big deal that I was hooking up with Rod meanwhile you were banging one of my friends? Behind my back?”
“We weren’t-I wouldn’t say bang-“
“Doesn’t matter Har!” Y/n sits up again and Harry feels the clouds break for a sec as she uses his nickname. “That wasn’t a great way to find out. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Harry didn’t know. Or he did: he didn’t think him and Soph were going to be more than a one time thing and when it was, he was ashamed a bit. He didn’t think he would go to college and have a casual relationship as his first one. It wasn’t something he necessarily wanted public knowledge.
“Maybe I was scared. I dunno. I just know I’m really sorry.”
They sit in silence for a few seconds, Harry hears the hoover turn on in yn’s house.
“Why’ve you got to be so fucking honest for,” y/n finally says with a sigh. “Makes it so hard to be mad at you when you’re all sincere and vulnerable.”
“Sorry,” Harry repeats.
“Stop it!” YN exclaims.
“Fine!” Harry’s heart pounds. “I don’t give a fuck about how you felt. Happy?”
Y/n freezes and slowly turns to stare at him. A smile ever so slowly tugs at the corner of her lips. She almost looks proud?
“Harry!” She grins. Then she punches him square in the bicep. Then gasps. “Have you been working out?”
Harry had been; in between class and clubs and dating, he started working out last winter with Rod.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me y/n,” Harry jokes and y/n snorts. The two look at each other at the sound of it before bursting out in laughter.
“I don’t know where that came from!” Y/n says through laughter. “I literally snorted!”
“You sounded like Peppa Pig,” Harry also has tears in his eyes. He missed hanging out with y/n.
Once they get ahold of their laughter Harry bumps his shoulder into hers. “It’s nice you’re talking to me again.”
She looks like she wants to say something to Harry, her eyes grow intense as she fixes onto him, her chin wobbling, but then it passes. Harry ignores the spark of disappointment.
“Yeah we’ll see.” She says with a half smile.
All was right in the world again, Harry thought.
He should have known, though, being friends with y/n would never be that simple.
*
TAGLIST: hmu if you want to be added
#writingsfromhome#harry styles x reader#harry styles fic#harry styles#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#fic#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#college!harry#ya harry styles#enemies to friends#idk#harry stylesxreader#things to learn#harry styles series#how the HELL has it been over a year since part 1#HOW#nerd!harry
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ELLIE!! SO happy that totk finally released bc there's a chance you might hyperfixate and give me the yandere link content that sustains my life force. oh and uh, cuz we waited so long for this game too, of course!
prrrrr i really do love yan Link! so many potential avenues! i was replaying totk recently (bc i was so excited for it i literally blazed thru the whole gam 8 days after release LOL) and some gems really cropped up:
1. Link makes you a little dream house in Tarrey Town to keep you safe and to take advantage of your inherent housewifery. He's so feral you don't even think about leaving even when he's gone for long stretches of time, because you know he'll track you down and drag you back home because you're not the hero silly! :) you stay home :) where it's safe :)
2. Yiga clan member reader who is constantly being hunted down and "rehabilitated" by the Hylian hero. Which is incredibly frustrating to you because a.) ur trying to kill him and b.) the other yiga quickly lose respect for you/shun you when they find out you're practically Link's little playtoy. Especially when he goes x2 as feral on the other yiga in battle when you're around cause he's bricked up at the very sight of you, and you end up getting chewed out by Kohga for letting him hit it and just escape afterwards.
3. You work at one of the stables or the little inn at Hateno village and Link falls so hard for you he's downright creepy. He's constantly hanging around and bringing you gifts and stuff you didn't ask for but you can't just tell him to go away cause...he's the hero. So you kinda just have to deal with his awkward stare and the fumbled kisses he steals behind the barn and try not to hurt his feelings because what are you gonna do if the hero of time decides to quit saving Hyrule because he got rejected?
4. You're part of the Gerudo/live in Gerudo town and Link is undeterred in his attempts to woo you, even though he can't step foot in town or he'll get locked up. So he either dresses up in the vai outfit or just lies in wait for you to leave the city for one reason or another, and then ambushes you and follows you around like a weird little stalker until you love him. Bonus if he scares off another suitor or saves you from a Molduga or--my personal favourite--your sand seal gets spooked and takes you far out into the desert and strands you by accident, and you're forced to accept Link's help when he comes to save you. And now, you owe him.
5. Much like Link, you're a fellow adventurer/wanderer/merchant/etc. and bump into him out in the wild. Maybe you share a campfire for a night and swap stories, or you give him directions, or you just wave at him in passing, and now Link is completely obsessed with you. He stalks you through the wild areas of Hyrule and never lets any harm befall you, be it monsters or gloom pits or pools of malice or just general unluckiness, and while you don't realize it's him you slowly feel less and less alone when you're out in the field. You swear you can even feel some kind of warmth when you lay down in your tent to sleep, like someone's curled up right next to you....
6. Link kidnaps you and takes you to Hyrule castle where he forcibly makes you pretend to be a princess. He dresses you up in pretty gowns and kills all the monsters lurking around so you'll always be safe, and he acts like you're his damsel in distress that he's constantly saving even though you're just some farmer girl he picked up off the side of the road and fell in love with. You're the pretty princess, he's your loyal knight, and if he does a really good job at "saving" you, maybe you'll let him stay in your room for the night when he keeps watch...?
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Day 5: Camping
Ink telling ghost stories around the campfire with Blue and Dream :) The Star Trio is very silly, I like their dynamic a lot
Dream by Jokublog - Swap Sans by Popcornpr1nce - Ink by Comyet/Myebi
#undertale#undertale au#utau#undertale multiverse#sans au#sans#inktobertale2024#inktale#inktobertale#ink!sans#swap!sans#dream!sans#digital art#krita
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New month, new sticker designs for my Patreon members to vote on!
The theme this month for my monthly sticker club is “Campfire Tales,” inspired by the nostalgia I have around swapping spooky stories, urban legends, or creepy things that happened to a friend of a friend of a friend during sleepovers or around a campfire making s’mores during the summer.
October is obviously THE spooky month, but summertime presents a lot of opportunities for spookiness as well.
Which option do you like the best? Which one do you think will win?
#art#artists on tumblr#illustration#art of the day#sketch#daily sketch#doodle#sticker art#sticker design#patreon#patreon art#monthly sticker club#making stickers#urban legend#spooky art#cryptids#cryptid#bigfoot#mothman#ghost stories#nostalgia
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"you love me?" "i always have." valentines confessions w rockstar!james!!!!!!! love u happy valentine’s day!!!!!!
you and james have a weird relationship.
james is a rockstar, and he drags you along to every venue when you’re available and done with your job.
journalism is easy to move around and you can write wherever james is depending on the story, and it makes your friendship work.
you’re there for his successes and he’s always there when you get big stories to cover- you’re each other’s biggest fans.
except, you think james has changed. he’s become more than a friend and it’s happened when neither of you were looking.
james is practicing his drum set when you find him, drumsticks banging on the miniset in his house and you feel your heart speed up.
he’s prettiest at home in nothing but sweats. his curls are inky and a little damp, his brown arm muscles bulging as he hits each drum.
you’d come over to talk to james about the bouquet he had sent to you.
it wasn’t just real flowers, they had lego lilies and tulips in a separate vase- your absolute favourites.
“jamie,” you say, quiet as a mouse compared to his drums. “james.”
he stops, looking up at you breathing hard, and then smiles.
“hey pretty girl,” his smile spreads wider at your bashful smile. “you got the flowers?”
he’s too pleased with himself at your shy nod.
you reach into your bag and offer your own gift to james. you’re not sure when you both started getting each other valentine’s day gifts, but it was a cute tradition.
“open it, maybe you’ll use this one for longer.” you confuse james but when he comes over to you and rips off the wrapping paper and sees the box he gasps.
“no fucking way!” he all but screams, hands quick to take off the lid and reveal black drumsticks with his initials engraved into them.
“baby!” his tugs you into his chest and if it were sirius or remus all sweaty and pulling you into them, you’d push them away.
but james is warm, he smells like a campfire, toasted vanilla and home.
“turn them over,” you whisper and james does so quizzically.
‘my big drummer boy,’
“i love you,” the confession comes quick from james, effortlessly, like he’s said it for years.
you pull back and look up at him, “you what?”
his smile ages him down, transforms him to seventeen year old james who put chocolates in your bag, or that one ring that you never leave home without.
“i love you, i’m in love with you. i adore you, whichever variation you’d like to hear pretty girl; but it’s all true.”
“you love me?” you ask stupidly and james laughs, his lips press to your forehead.
“i always have, loved you forever and a half.”
you beam and wrap your arms tighter around his middle, “i love you james, always have, forever and more than a half.”
he laughs again and squeezes you to his chest. “wanna go out? the press will think it’s a regular day out for us, and really we’ll be snogging in the middle of the ivy.”
“whatever you want jamie, as long as i eat ice cream at some point,” and you do, james buys one ice cream that you both share, the taste of mint chip swapped on your tongues.
#jamespotter#james potter#james potter imagine#james potter one shot#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter x black!reader#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x yn
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Security Measures
It’s been a long time since I wrote anything… but I decided IM BACK BABY!
It felt like it was time for some good old fashioned smut. I really went back to my roots with this one. I still personally prefer to refer to this character as Peter Ballard, and that’s gonna be his name in the fic. I apologize if that’s not your thing, but you don’t have to read it 🫶🏻
Genre: Porn with minimal plot
Rating: so crazy explicit lmao. Minors please leave 💞
Tags: dom!Peter, sub!female!, bdsm kinda?, edging, fingering, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dubcon? kinda?, choking, hitting, hair pulling… all that good stuff
As always, I appreciate any and all feedback. You know I love to hear you, baby 🙏🏻
Hawkins National Laboratory was going to be the biggest story in my journalism career. Like many children in this area of Indiana, I had grown up hearing all kinds of rumors, stories and conspiracies surrounding the mythic brick building in the woods.
Being a casual column writer for the Indianapolis Recorder gave me access to plenty of information, but most of it felt so mundane compared to what I might be able to uncover in the source of all my childhood nightmares. Through my boss, I was able to secure an interview with one Dr. Martin Brenner, the supposed mastermind behind the madness. The only question now was whether or not I would learn the truth.
Parked outside of the structure, it felt no different than those creepy campfire tales my friends and I had swapped in our youth. This time, however, I knew I was going to go inside. I was going to settle fact and fiction.
I smoothed out my smart pencil skirt and clutched my notepad and two pens close to my chest (I had to have two, just in case one ran out in the middle of the interview, but I had tested them both twice before leaving the house). My modest high heels clicked against the pavement before stopping at the tall glass front door. I took one final deep breath before pulling it open.
The lobby was beyond what I was expecting. Panels of sleek, dark wood lined the walls, and a kind-eyed brunette woman sat behind a mahogany desk with a warmly lit lamp set atop it.
“How can I help you?” She spoke, folding her fingers together and resting them on her appointment book.
“I have a two o’clock with Dr. Brenner,” I replied. I could feel my knuckles turning white around my notepad.
The young lady glanced down at her calendar before tapping twice on my name.
“You’re right on time. I’ll buzz you through the main doors. Go down the hallway and go through security. They’ll guide you from there.”
“Thank you so much,” I responded, already making my way around her desk towards a set of hospital-like doors. She pressed a button behind her desk, sending a buzzing ring throughout the lobby, followed by the click of the door’s lock. I swung it open and entered a lengthy hallway lined with sterile white tile.
Scents of various disinfectants stung my nose as I rushed down the corridor. My watch read twelve minutes before two, and I prayed whatever security measures I had to clear wouldn’t take long.
Around the hallway’s corner stood a second pair of doors with a metal detector and X-ray machine before them. A slender, blonde-haired man dressed in all white stood patiently with his hands clasped in front of his belt next to the machinery.
“Hi, I have an appointment with Dr. Brenner,” I sputtered, paying no mind to the orderly as I set my belongings on the conveyor belt into the X-ray.
“Just remove your shoes, jacket and anything in your pockets,” his gentle voice instructed me.
I followed his orders, sending each of my items into the machine before I stood tall in front of the metal detector. The spotlessly clean man mirrored my stance on the opposite side. Our eyes met for a second before he silently raised two fingers and motioned me towards him with them. I felt a sting of intimidation rush through me as he locked his eyes on me while I stepped forward. My heart skipped a beat when the metal detector beeped.
“It’s okay. Step out and try again,” he commanded, his eyes still motionless.
I did as I was told, stepping backwards and then forwards. The metallic chime rang out once more.
“Are you wearing any jewelry?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly.
“None at all…” I trailed off, touching my earlobes, fingers and neck.
“…Any I can’t see?” He spoke softly.
My eyes shot up to his, half offended by the question, “No.”
“One last time, then. Raise your hands above your head this time.”
I repeated my action, raising my hands as instructed. As predicted, the machine buzzed again.
“I’m going to have to pat you down. We’ll step into the security office for some privacy, okay?”
“Excuse me?” I spat, feeling my eyebrows raise with my temper.
“You don’t have to,” he smiled kindly, “you can always leave.”
I wished in my heart that he was joking, but I could tell he was deathly serious.
“Fine,” I spat, shaking my head in disbelief.
“You can put your shoes back on,” the orderly spoke gently. He picked up my blazer and notepad for me as I slipped my feet back into my heels impatiently.
“Let’s get this over with,” I sighed.
“Right this way,” he gestured into an open door. I walked in before him, nervously kneading my knuckles.
He set my items on a sterile steel table and turned to face me as I glanced around the office. The walls were the same bland tile, nothing on them except for a clock, which read ten minutes before two.
“Please hurry, I don’t want to be late for my meeting,” I pleaded, feeling the rising urge to tap my heels.
“You won’t be, I promise,” a cheeky smile spoke, “I’m Peter by the way.”
“Great, nice to meet you Peter. Let’s go,” I hurried him, not bothering to introduce myself to the security guard orderly that I would never see again.
“Arms out, feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed. I obeyed yet again.
His palms clasped around the top of my right thigh and began to slowly pat inches at a time down my leg.
“You don’t have a female security guard to do this?” I huffed.
“I’m afraid not. The only women here are the nurse and the secretary,” Peter sighed. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the response.
Once down to my ankle, he raised his hands to check left leg, but the tip of his thumb grazed me where I was most sensitive, causing my breath to hitch. I prayed he hadn’t noticed as he worked his way further down.
“Nothing yet…” he reported once down to my foot.
A lightbulb went off in my head. My IUD. I had a copper birth control device in my cervix. Could that have set off the metal detector? Surely copper couldn’t trigger it. But what else could it possibly be? I knew that I genuinely had nothing, but how could I tell Peter that without proving it?
Peter began to pat down my right arm, from shoulder to wrist, before moving to my left.
“Listen, I swear I have nothing. I’m just a journalist…” I began to bargain.
“I actually do believe you, but it’s just laboratory protocol,” Peter grinned. His eyes shone a bright blue even in the dingy fluorescent lighting, and I felt a twinge of happiness that at least he was a gentleman.
“The metal detector indicated something at waist level, so I’ll need to examine there further. Again, you may leave at any time.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through my nose.
“Okay. Let’s get it over with.”
“I’m just going to slide two fingers into the waist band of your skirt, okay?” Peter informed more than he asked.
“Okay,” I nodded with a deep breath.
As he had narrated, his slender index and middle fingers from each hand slipped into the top of my skirt next to my hip bones, resting atop the hem. As I exhaled, the pressure on his knuckles decreased, the warmth of them abandoning the crisp caress of my blouse.
“Just going to slide them around to the back now,” he gently described his action. As promised, those slim fingers slithered around my hips towards my spine.
With his arms around my waist, I paused to glance at his sapphire eyes, preciously surveying his work. A breath left his lips and cascaded down my chest just as he lifted his touch from my body.
“All looks well, but I’m afraid that means I still have searching to do,” Peter sighed, clasping his hands in front of his belt buckle.
“This is ridiculous,” I fumed, “look, it must have been a fluke. I promise I just want to go to my interview and then leave.”
Peter’s doe-like eyes blinked innocently as I ranted.
“I believe you, miss, I really do. Unfortunately, it’s not my decision. You may either continue, or leave the facility,” his honeyed, overly calm voice stated.
“Fine. What next?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.
Peter cleared his throat as his eyes darted to the floor between us before responding, “I’ll need you to remove your skirt so I may assess what’s underneath.”
“Assess what’s underneath? What are you, a fucking cop?” I protested, my voice growing in volume with each syllable. Peter didn’t bat an eye.
“You’re welcome to leave at any time, but this is protocol,” he assured me, “I’ll turn away while you undress.”
I thought back to all the time I had spent dreaming about being able to interview Dr. Brenner. The countless nights of sleep I lost staring at my ceiling dreaming about what I would write and what questions I would ask. Was I really going to back out now? Could I just chalk this up to one of the things a girl has to do to fulfill a dream?
I silently nodded and Peter turned on his heels to face the door.
The parting of the zipper was the only noise in the uncomfortable silence. I shimmied my skirt off my hips, allowing it to pool around my ankles before picking it up and grasping it timidly at my waist. The cool, sterile air brushed across my bare backside, sending a wave of goosebumps up to my neck.
“Okay,” I spoke shakily.
The orderly turned back to me and immediately placed his hand on my skirt. I allowed him to take it, kneading my fingers anxiously with nothing left to protect my modesty.
Peter crouched curiously at eye-level with my panties. I felt like a common whore standing before the stranger in nothing but my undergarments and high heels. Of course, today was the day I had decided to wear garters instead of regular pantyhose, which only amplified my bashfulness.
“Could have been these,” he noted, slipping his index finger beneath one of the nude garter straps holding up my stocking, snapping one of the metallic clasps against my thigh.
I felt my heart rate increase dramatically beneath his touch. Blood rushed to my core, causing a noticeable temperature increase between my legs. The visual alone of golden blonde locks kneeling before me was enough to create a knot in my abdomen that grew harder and harder to ignore.
The orderly tsked and shook his head, “I think that’s too small of an amount of metal. It must be something else.”
My palms began to grow clammy as I debated telling him about my contraceptive.
“Could there be something… inside you? A medical device, perhaps?” Peter asked, his eyes shooting up to mine from between my legs. I had to tell him now.
“Yes,” I spat out, feeling my stomach turn, “I have a copper birth control device.”
“I see…” he trailed off, shifting his gaze to the floor.
“That’s it. I know that’s all. I was just scared to tell you, I had this crazy idea that you would have to confirm it or something.” I blurted, vomiting my words all over him.
A silence grew between us, and Peter’s choice not to disprove my absurd theory became increasingly worrisome. Finally, he rose to his feet, returning to his polite stance with his hands held above his belt.
“I”m afraid that actually is the case,” Peter finally confessed.
My head fell back as I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes imagining what exactly this process might look like. I glanced back at the clock on the wall. I had seven minutes left.
“You better be fucking fast,” I voiced sternly, turning back to those blue eyes.
“Not a problem. Remember, you may leave at any time,” he reassured me.
I nodded as he gestured towards a padded table lined with parchment-like paper, beckoning me to lay back across it. I relaxed back against it, closing my eyes as the orderly shuffled over and stood patiently next to the table.
“Would you like to remove your undergarments, or would you prefer I work around them?” He asked cordially, as if any of this process was anything less than crass.
“I’m in a hurry, just do what you have to do,” I instructed, closing my eyes and clasping my hands above my stomach.
His fingertips wasted no time snaking under my panties and pushing them aside. I exhaled slowly as his warm touch glided over my pussy.
“Breathe for me,” he guided. On my next inhale, he slipped a finger inside me.
Something between a pornographic moan and a wince escaped me, and I found myself biting my lip to prevent more from following it.
“You’re doing such a good job,” that silvery voice cooed.
A twinge of shame crawled from my stomach to my chest as I realized that I was already dripping wet from the interaction. Something about his maintained innocence -everything from his crisp white uniform to his “this is strictly protocol” attitude”- ignited a craving I didn’t know I had. Whatever it was, I knew it was going to make me miss my interview.
“Okay, I think I feel the string,” Peter remarked, shifting his body to give his arm a better angle.
I felt his finger begin to slide out of me when I jolted my eyes open and gripped his wrist assertively.
“Are you sure?” Was all I could managed to spit out.
I lessened my grasp on his wrist and relaxed slightly, “I mean. Are you positive? You don’t need more time?”
“I’m fairly certain, I mean…” he trailed off, clearly missing the memo.
“Peter,” I finally spoke his name, “I think you need to check more thoroughly.”
“Are you sure? You’re going to miss your interview…” those blue eyes batted at me, and suddenly I wasn’t the one feeling so bashful.
“Fuck my interview,” I moaned, guiding his middle finger up to join his index inside me.
“Oh my,” Peter’s voice dropped an octave and those precious blue eyes shifted infernal.
“Please?” I urged, shifting to allow him better access.
“I don’t know,” he falsely contemplated, sinking two fingers into my pussy as he spoke, “are you going to be good for me?”
I choked on a moan rising in my throat before closing my eyes and nodding rapidly. Peter clicked his tongue, uncertain of my answer. I squeezed my eyes tightly and allowed my chest to relax. The grim, florescent light suddenly felt warmer as his slender fingers thrust into me.
“Jesus,” he remarked, slowing his pace, “tightening up on me already, hmm?”
I whined a vague response, bucking my hips against him. Wordlessly, Peter grabbed my leg nearest to him and swung kit over his head so it rested atop his shoulder and stepped forward, forcing my back to arch to accommodate him. Whimpers flowed freely from me as he quickened his pace, and I couldn’t help but open my eyes to look down and take in the sight of his fingers sinking into me.
With his free hand, he reached up and snatched a fistful of hair at the crown of my head and jerked forward, “That’s right, watch my fingers fuck you.”
Whimpers fell into wanton moans, and Peter switched to using his middle and ring finger, curling devilishly where I needed him most.
“Shit, Peter, I’m going to c-“
Before I could even speak the words, the orderly removed his touch entirely from my pussy and released his grip on my hair. My leg slid off of his shoulder, hung carelessly off the edge of the table. Dumbfounded, my misty eyes searched for his. Peter stood motionless, watching me with no readable expression on his face.
Once I had managed to find my breath a little, he spoke, “Are you done?”
“What? No, I was about to and you-“
The back of Peter’s hand landed a heavy smack across my cheek as he leaned in close to whisper, “Are you done being a needy bitch?”
Holding my stinging cheek, I gazed up at him in erotic trepidation.
“Y-yes,” I whispered, not even convincing myself of my answer.
“Good,” he praised, creeping his hand back to my pussy, “let’s continue.”
My panties were pushed to the side once more, and my body lurched forward onto Peter’s fingers as they writhed back into me. He leaned over me, placing his free hand at the base of my neck and whispered in my ear, “I knew you were fucking dirty the second you walked around that corner.”
I felt myself grip him tighter as he accused me, enthralled with his whorish perception of me.
“Fuck, I’m so glad you had to search me, Peter,” I panted, squirming beneath him as his grip on my neck grew stronger.
A sinister chuckle crept from his throat, “I know, baby. Almost like it was meant to be, hmm?”
His question would have felt more ominous if the orgasm that I was fighting against wasn’t growing stronger by the second. I writhed beneath him harshly, now with the intention of staving myself off until Peter was ready. I spread my legs further for him, wrapping my right calf around his waist to give him direct access. My toes curled against the inside of my shoes as I struggled to pull him closer to me.
“Please, Peter, I can’t hold it back much longer,” I squealed, my vision blurring as I starred up at the bleak white ceiling tiles.
“What’s that? Are you begging me to let you cum?” Peter mocked, slowing his pace ever so slightly.
I nodded intently, feeling my chin brush against his knuckles.
“Almost. I know you can hold out just a little longer. Can you do that for me?” He positioned his face just inches from mine, tilting his chin up so he still looked down upon me. Appearing pathetic no longer mattered to me, I just wanted him to grant me release.
“Yes,” I told a half-truth. If he quickened his pace in the slightest, there would be no more waiting.
The stern grip on my throat vanished, his hand now working its way to the collar of my blouse. Without breaking eye contact, Peter effortlessly undid two of my buttons, leaving my sternum and the center of my bra exposed. Nimble fingers pushed the cup of my bra to the side, leaving half of my chest fully exposed. He traced around my nipple slowly at first, sending a shockwave sensation through my abdomen. As my pleasure peaked higher and higher, Peter’s lips swapped with his fingers, sucking teasingly at my flesh.
“Christ, I can’t- I have to-“ I stuttered between breaths.
“Go ahead. Let me hear you cum,” Peter permitted.
My leg’s grip on his waist doubled, and in my senseless passion, my hands clawed at his shoulders and across his back, finally releasing myself upon him. A stream of curses and lustful whimpers echoed through the overly-hygienic office, mixing flawlessly with Peter’s determined grunts as he pushed himself. Peter lifted his head from my chest as my climax began to fade, a bead of sweat falling from his furrowed brow to my sternum. His sapphire eyes bore into mine as the two of us panted back and forth.
“Taste yourself,” Peter commanded, sliding his fingers out of me and up to my tongue. I obliged, pleased at how his scent mingled with my taste. Pearly white teeth smiled approvingly at how eager I was to fill his request.
“I have a confession to make,” the orderly informed, bracing his weight on his palm, now resting next to my head.
“Yes?” I replied, slipping his fingers out of my mouth and holding them delicately between my own.
“I always set off the metal detector when pretty girls come through.”
#stranger things#jamie campbell bower#jamie bower#peter ballard#001#henry creel#vecna#stranger things 4#fics#peter ballard smut#001 smut#smut#henry creel smut#peter x reader#x reader#my work
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Pipabeth HC bc no one is asking for it and I am for the people and by the people so I will be doing a public service, you’re welcome.
Piper definitely is the big spoon, especially whenever Annabeth has nightmares about Tartarus, but they also flip-flop.
Percy, Jason, Nico, and Leo all had a bet on which girl would end up making a move first, turns out THEY were the ones who had to help both of them to make a move.
Annabeth “Shut up” x Piper “Why don’t you make me?” Type of energy.
Piper is WHIPPED like Annabeth could say ANYTHING and this girl would do anything she says.
Piper is a beach girl while Annabeth is more of a mountains and city girl.
Piper was nervous meeting Fredrick for the first time, and considering Annabeth’s history with him, she wasn’t sure how it would go. (He awkwardly said something about Piper’s height, apologized and then offered to show Piper his World War 2 collection)
Annabeth was even more of a nervous wreck meeting Tristan for the first time, especially since how much he and Piper’s relationship started to improve for the better.
Ends up becoming good friends with Tristan and Tristan shows Annabeth baby pictures of Piper, much to Piper’s dismay.
Annabeth loves to fidget with Piper’s hair, absentmindedly or for stimming purposes and Piper loves it.
Annabeth is a Clairo diehard and Piper is 100% a MUNA fan.
Piper takes Annabeth to LA Pride a couple of times while visiting.
They also make an annual Pride celebration at Camp, they also got Nico and Will to organize it as well.
When Annabeth realized she had feelings for Piper, the poor girl was a flustered MESS around Piper or whenever Piper came into her line of vision.
Annabeth realized her feelings for PIper after remembering the Temple of Fear situation they were both in, she didn't get ANY sleep the entire night because the poor girl was overanalyzing the SHIT out of every touch, word, and gaze they had shared.
Normally, Annabeth is witty and knows what to say at any given time with anyone. But when she realized how attracted she was to Piper, the girl became a bumbling mess.
Piper was also a big gay disaster, she was able to hide it a bit better (only enough that Annabeth couldn’t tell, but everyone else knew about her feelings)
Piper once ran face-first into a tree when Annabeth came up from the lake after swimming once, she didn’t hear Percy’s warning in time.
The Aphrodite cabin and Athena cabin, at some point in time when it got ALL over the camp, tried to scheme a plan to get these two idiots to confess.
Lacy and Mitchell teased the SHIT out of Piper when they figured out Piper was into Annabeth.
Percy and Jason were also insufferable as well to Annabeth, purposely leaving her alone with Piper, “conveniently” having only one seat open which was next to Piper at the campfire.
At some point, Leo, Jason, Nico, and Percy shoved/“accidentally” locked the two girls into a closet at the big house.
Let's say the two were in there longer than the boys planned.
Annabeth loves to talk about birds and plants if she's not talking about architecture.
Piper loves to infodump about the stars and planets surrounding the solar system, she also talks a lot about her heritage and all of the stories that her Grandpa Tom used to tell her, it's one of Annabeth's favorite things to listen to whenever Piper misses her dad or her grandpa.
Piper is 100% into cheesy romcoms, Annabeth is also into them but very secretively and Piper drags her into her cabin alone to watch them.
Sometimes, Piper and Annabeth will sneak out of their cabins at night to go stargazing.
Annabeth is the one to say "I love you" first to Piper.
Piper and Annabeth swap sweatshirts and return them once either of their perfumes wears off.
Whenever Annabeth gets jealous, she makes it quite obvious, scowling, subtly rolling her eyes, yawning, and glaring at the girl who is flirting with Piper. It usually ends with Annabeth dragging Piper off to the nearest closet depending on the situation and tension.
Whenever Piper gets jealous, she gets more protective and wraps her arm around Annabeth's waist, or subtly reaches out for her hand to hold.
Piper is more careful with her charmspeak around Annabeth because of how potent it can be for someone, especially if they're in love and or extremely attracted to the person with the ability.
She's said some things like; go jump off the dock, as a joke without realizing she used her charmspeak and Annabeth nearly jumped off the dock before Percy and Piper stopped her. It was winter when she did that.
Piper has a four-pack and Annabeth literally cannot take her eyes off of Piper's mid-drift whenever she wipes off sweat with her t-shirt.
Piper gets all flustered whenever she sees Annabeth beat up people during her hand-to-hand combat classes, and she had to step out early because she judo flipped the shit out of Jason and she thought she was literally going to die.
During the Fourth of July fireworks, Piper found a good spot with enough privacy that none of her nosy half-siblings could spy on her and Annabeth admiring the fireworks (and each other)
Annabeth has warm hands and Piper has cold hands.
Piper loves pastels while Annabeth likes neutral colors.
Annabeth has stolen like 12 of Piper's hoodies and refused to give them back, not like Piper is complaining.
Annabeth adores fall and winter, while Piper is more of a spring and summer girl.
Piper has a massive sweet tooth but specifically, she has a taste for sour candy.
Annabeth also has a sweet tooth, but she likes salty things like chocolate-covered pretzels and sea salt caramel.
Annabeth sends Piper cute couple date ideas from TikTok.
Piper just sends Annabeth a whole bunch of stupid memes, plus recipes to try out.
Annabeth cannot cook to save the LIFE of her, like both the Apollo and Demeter cabins have banned her from trying to help out in the kitchen.
Piper is pretty skilled when it comes to throwing down in the kitchen, and Annabeth likes to come up behind her and wrap her arms around Piper's waist and watch her.
Annabeth makes a MEAN Spotify playlist, especially since she's had to rebuild Olympus for the Gods after the first Titan war, she's gotten especially good with making a playlist to lock in and work.
They both have made playlists for each other, and they swap playlists whenever they are together or when they're apart.
Whenever they miss each other, Piper has Annabeth's New York City sweatshirt and wears it to sleep.
Annabeth has a necklace Piper had given her and one of Piper's hoodies that she sleeps in.
Whenever either of them are on quests, they carry pictures of each other.
Piper got the shovel talk from both Percy and the entire Athena cabin (it wasn't too threatening), but it was still a talk.
The same goes for Annabeth, Jason, Leo, and the entire Aphrodite cabin.
For their first date, Jason and Leo were kindly asked (forced into) the Aphrodite cabin to emotionally support Piper, who was picking out an outfit.
Percy and Grover were in the Athena cabin, also emotionally supporting Annabeth, who was also picking out an outfit.
They went to a secret swimming hole at a more secluded part of the camp, had a picnic, stargazed, swam, and kissed.
Percy, Jason, and Leo were spying on them at some point and Piper caught them, so they beat them all up when they were heading to the spot.
#lgbtqia#pipabeth#piper mclean#beauty queen#annabeth chase#piper x annabeth#they're in love your honor#and they were roommates#pjo hoo toa#pjo series#hoo piper#bi annabeth chase#useless lesbians#gay people#piper and annabeth#lgbtq#wlw#wlw shit#percy jackson#platonic percebeth#pipabeth headcanons#pjo headcanons#heroes of olympus headcanons#leo valdez#jason grace
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ava only fully understanding now what mary had lost in shannon, having picked up more of the story than mary had been willing to share in those scant few weeks before her disappearance. having had time to sit with herself and be able to look back and see the way mary had been so thoroughly wrapped around an absence, a corpse, and now in the aftermath clinging so tightly to her, to this idea of what she could have done to bea had she not survived
picking the story out of bea like unwrapping a wound. nights in switzerland with the windows open and the lights off and the whole world reduced to beatrice’s voice.
talking about mary so precisely, never slipping on the grammar. always mary is, like words alone could bring her home. but then the shift, inevitable, as beatrice draws the past out of her pocket like an old receipt and smooths it onto the table so that ava can look, breathing in a half-forgotten scent.
cedarwood and oil paint drying (‘it takes a very long time’). turpentine and a mug full of paint water and shannon’s mouth against it. charcoal dust and pencils scattered over her desk. boots propped by the door.
how mary would look at her. the glancing touches, the way they’d hold each other after missions and it made beatrice think of atoms colliding at great speed. turning into light, turning everything to dust.
beatrice looking down at her hands as the grammar shifts to shannon was.
when ava phases, her body turns to diffuse light, threads of scattered gold. she wants to ask beatrice if there’s ever a trace, a sketch, a silhouette of someone else inside that light.
she doesn’t ask, but when mary comes back she tells ava that she sees shannon everywhere. in the light falling down behind the hills. in roof tiles and old hoodies and too many pairs of boots.
‘do you see her in me?’
‘i see her in beatrice. with you it’s… more of a feeling.’
‘like a vibe?’
a slow, fond smile. ‘sure. it’s like a vibe.’
both of them roasting marshmallows on a campfire and beatrice just visible between the trees, stooping to collect more wood. when mary speaks again her voice has an ache inside it.
‘sometimes when i’m standing next to you i forget where i am, and it’s like i’m catching her light, casting her shadow.’
ava taking her hand, putting her head on mary’s shoulder and feeling a sudden surge of warmth in the halo. like a hand reaching out to grasp them both.
but all she says is, ‘you fucked up your marshmallow.’
they swap sticks so that when bea comes back she kneels next to ava, puts her hand over ava’s hand to teach her how to do it right. mary shaking with silent laughter as ava pretends to be clueless for the sake of bea saying, ‘here, like this. close but not too close to the flames.’
ava thinking too late, i’m already in the fire. i’m already alight.
kissing bea when she’s finished her demonstration and making her taste-test the perfectly cooked marshmallow. mary groaning and ava laughing into bea’s mouth, tasting sugar, carbon, fire.
watching mary sit next to the dying light as bea sets up their sleeping bags. ava privately of the opinion that they definitely don’t need two of them. then turning, seeing mary upset the ashes, look into the sky, lips moving.
maybe it’s prayer. ava knows she prayed to beatrice on the other side.
going into the tent and kissing bea slow, tender, hiding an apology in her mouth, on the inside of her arm, between her breasts. knowing she was almost an absence, like shannon. a loss, a thing of light and dust. knowing mary will never unravel it from her bones. but knowing, as she did when she kissed bea the first time, that love is worth holding, worth having. even for an instant, for the length of a kiss and a goodbye.
that a house is only ever haunted because someone lived in it, slept in it, painted its walls and ate meals in the kitchen. she wakes up in the morning and mary’s there, making coffee, telling ava that shannon always put a spoonful of sugar in hers, but no milk.
‘bittersweet?’
‘yeah.’
and ava knows from bea that mary drinks her coffee unsweetened, but sometimes with a little milk. and yet watching as mary pours out the coffee and empties a sugar packet into hers. sipping it and looking out at the trees, at the forest, at all these places shannon has never touched.
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three weeks of @stranglethorn-bonfire-bash arts <3
week 1: the real hidden treasure was the strawberries eaten along the way
week 2: spooky stories around the campfire with temperance, rulka, and yfaera. the story was written by my darling wife, and you can read it here
week 3: for team swap, a final, heroic battle between a val'kyr gwetha, fairy knight celiath, and a villainous gargoyle christopher over sandcastle prime real estate :)
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Martyn didn’t tell anyone about the voices, not the first time around. He didn’t need that - didn’t need the Red Army, and certainly not his King, thinking he was losing it. They were at war, for crying out loud. Who cared whether there was a malevolent- spirit? entity? occupying his brain? It’s not like it was doing anything other than speaking cryptically whenever he lost a life or was on the verge of losing one, so he was relatively okay with sharing a bit of his brain space with It. Whatever It was. Maybe the others had heard It too, but nobody had said anything because they all thought they were crazy too (fair).
They’d talked about death, of course, on those long nights (there had been many, and little else felt meaningful to talk about, because death and dying was the whole point). Martyn or Etho would ask first, usually - what was it like when you died? Did you… see anything? And Ren would launch into a tale as dramatic as ever about his blood spilling on the altar as his Hand decapitated him, and Martyn would feel a little sick at the memory, and Ren would end the story sheepishly admitting he didn’t see anything. Just darkness, and then he was alive again. BigB would laugh and with measured optimism say he didn’t know, and that hopefully things would stay that way. And so they would go around the campfire like that, swapping stories of the… not the afterlife, but the in-between, perhaps, and when it came to Martyn’s turn he’d give a quick “Uh… nothing. Yeah, it was just- just total darkness for me too. Kind of boring, really, you’d think there’d be something.” No mysterious voices were mentioned, not by anyone, and Martyn wasn’t about to be the first.
The second time, It became Them. The first time could have been nothing, just his brain trying to rationalise death, but this time? Either he really was losing it, or they were real. Or… both, as it turned out one very rough morning after Grian killed Timmy and Mumbo. They were… different this time. Less concerned with his own deaths, more concerned with his kills. Kill, singular, really.
They tasked him with killing Grian, in exchange for Mumbo and Timmy back, and he failed. Miserably. He hadn’t minded trying - he welcomed the excuse, really, since Grian had been the one to destroy the Southlands to begin with - but. It didn’t matter. None of it did. He had been naive to think that it would be as simple as that. And there’d been something else, too. Something too much for his dying brain to comprehend, so much so that thinking back on it even as a green life in peak health made him simultaneously feel like his head was going to explode and like he was being spied on. So for a while, he just… didn’t. The third time was a sort of reprieve, in a way. He pointedly avoided thinking about Them at all, and to Their credit, They also did not bother him for once. Having Cleo in the back of his mind was quite enough stress. They weren’t happy - they weren’t even friends - but they had an understanding. He saw too much of himself in Cleo. Enough that he knew that if he told them about Them, they would believe him. She would believe him, and she would see right through him and pity him. And so he played the game. They lived, they survived for a time, and they died, and for once that was all there was to it.
He thought this time might be the same. The constant ticking was enough to drive anyone mad - cynical as ever, he figured that was probably the point, right. But more than that, the fourth game felt like it was designed for Martyn to lose. He wasn’t like Timmy (thank God for that) - he was a survivor. Not a winner, no, but a survivor. What good was that, though, when his time was running out either way? He thought he’d experienced desperation before: desperation to protect his king; desperation to bring Timmy and Mumbo back; desperation to get a kill; none of it compared to the ever-increasing desperation of running out of time, the hyper-awareness of exactly how long he had left to live. He had to get more time. Get more time, and perhaps win one of these damn things for once. Not that it would change anything… probably? He’d have to ask Scott. He’d asked Grian before, what it felt like to win, but all that Grian had said was that it felt like losing.
That night, as they enjoyed a (now blissfully unobstructed) nighttime view, Scott told him, “It felt like being free, for a moment. And then for an even briefer moment it felt like I was looking down on the world, like- like I was outside of it looking through a window, if that makes sense. And then I was dead, so it didn’t even really matter.”
“I might as well not even bother winning, then, I can just go up to Skynet when TIES aren’t looking and that’s basically the same thing.”
“Honestly? Yeah. Not worth it. But we might as well try anyway, because giving up is just kind of sad and I am not letting Jimmy outlive me. Besides, I want to win again out of pure spite, ‘cause whoever’s up there probably already hates me anyway for the boogeyman thing. Both boogeyman things. I don’t kill someone, I get smited literally out of the world for winning, and then when I do kill someone I’m ‘ruining the suspense’! These games are rigged!”
Scott doesn’t notice the change in Martyn’s expression - he’s too busy glaring at the sky to notice something dawning on Martyn’s face, equal parts realisation and apprehension.
“You think there’s someone up there, what, just watching us kill each other over and over?” Martyn asks, his voice measured.
“I mean, maybe? Someone’s gotta be running these - other than Grian, I mean. Grian’s in charge, yeah, but even he can’t change his timer, right? And sometimes even when nobody else is around, like when I’m just mining for diamonds - do you not get that feeling, like there’s someone watching you?” Scott replies.
He was only ever meant to watch.
A fragment of a fragment of memory flashes into Martyn’s mind, and the words spill out before he even consciously processes what it is that he’s remembering.
“Scott, I- I heard them once. Not even once, actually, it was more like, what- five or six times? They’ve never- you’ve never heard them?” he says, but the bewildered expression etched onto Scott’s scaled face tells him all he needs to know.
“Heard them? Martyn, they’re- they watch, that’s all they do, they don’t talk to us. I’ve never heard them. But,” he added hastily, “I believe you. You’re my ally, and there’s just no reason why you’d make that up anyway. What would even be the point, unless this is supposed to be your idea of a ghost story.” Which was as fair a reason as any for believing your friend slash bodyguard’s experience hearing unknowable beings in his mind, Martyn supposed.
“It’d be a pretty crap ghost story to scare you with, seeing as it only ever seems to affect me,” Martyn chuckled a little, his tension already fading away. “I’m gonna be honest, I’ve never actually told anyone about it before. Never really had anyone I could just sit down and talk to about it. No thanks to you last time around.”
“Yeah!” Scott said simply, in the tone of voice that Martyn can’t help but smile faintly at upon hearing it. “I’ve told you and Pearl like a million times, it was your own fault Cleo and I were better soulmates for each other. You’re not doing bad this time though, apart from, you know, trying to boogey me after we became allies. So I guess I can listen.”
Martyn didn’t tell Scott everything - admitting the context in which they had told him they could bring Mumbo and Timmy back was just a bit too embarrassing. But the rest he explained as well as he could remember - it almost felt like it had happened to someone else by this point, and maybe in a way it had. He wasn’t a Hand of the King, or a grief-stricken Southerner, or alone and hated by a soulmate simply because they were too alike. They were him, but not in the same way that the man stargazing on a manmade island with his friend was him. The memories felt borrowed, almost.
“…And you’ll tell me if they come back? Even if they want you to kill me and they’ll reset your timer in exchange or something?”
“Probably?”
“I let you kill me to give you time. You are not going to find a better friend than me on this entire server.”
“Alright, fine.”
(my friends and i were talking about how if martyn ever did decide to get anyone involved in the watcher lore, scott joining in would absolutely slay. ive never finished a full piece of writing in about eight years and i wrote this in one go and its 4am now be nice to me olease. and also for clarity this is mid session 4 before martyn actually hears the watchers again)
#limited life smp#limited life spoilers#inthelittlewood#smajor1995#grian#mean gills#mem writes#<- AOUHHG#mean gills my sillies…
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