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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

Note

how about when they first noticed ezra was a nervous and anxious baby ?

Seperation

prompt: the moment when h and yn decide that Ezra needs to see a therapist.

warnings: angst

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—

It’s late at night, like 3 in the morning, and Harry was down in Atlanta for three games with the Braves.

Easton and Cash had long adjusted to their father being away for short spurts of time - doesn’t mean they don’t miss him but they know he’ll come back to them.

Ezra was another story.

YN felt dread anytime he went away for a game because her youngest got so anxious and had trouble sleeping.

He was usually okay during the day (Harry was gone for practice and obligations during most mornings and afternoons).

It was at night time.

She really didn’t want to call and bother her husband because he had just played a game that went into three innings of overtime and had gotten a gnarly bruise on his thigh from a ball hitting him as he batted.

When they’d FaceTimed after the game, about eight, he had been so exhausted in his hotel room that his eyes were nearly closing as he spoke to her.

Now at three, three in the morning, Ezra still hasn’t went to bed because of how fussy and tearful he was - babbling about his father.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” He was whining into his mother’s neck, his hot tears rolling down his cheeks and onto her skin.

“Ezzie, baby. We have to calm down. Mama’s here and daddy is okay, he’s just working,” She murmured to him for the hundredth time that night.

YN was sat in the den with him because she didn’t want him waking up his brothers or his little sister who just begun to sleep through the night for the most part.

At one point, she did stir for a night feeding, and as YN sat on her bed - Briar latched sleepily, Ezra was nestled tightly into her other side.

When it hit three-thirty, she began to feel herself get frustrated because she couldn’t fix the situation - no matter what she did.

She knew once tears began rolling down her own cheeks that she had to call Harry.

It was never that she was worried he would be mad that she called, she just felt guilty because he had worked so hard already that day.

YN reaches for her phone, taking a deep inhale before pressing his contact for facetime.

It rings three times before it’s picked up, completely dark in his room, and he rasps out drowsily, “Wha’s going on, mama? Y’alright? The babies alright?”

“I-I can’t get him to settle,” YN takes a deep breath, the sleep deprivation making her want to just break down and sob.

“Daddy? Daddy, daddy, daddy,” Ezra just chants, eyes wide on the screen, searching for his father to just appear but all he sees is darkness.

That causes him to just start bawling his eyes out when he can’t will his father onto the phone like he wants.

“Whoa, Ezzie. Sweet boy, c’mon. Y’gotta breathe s’daddy can understand you,” Harry coos, stirring to turn on the light and illuminate his pillow-creased face.

“Daddy!” His voice is shrill, high-pitched and it makes YN’s ears ring.

“Ezra Duke,” Harry says a little more firmly, “Daddy can’t understand you when you scream, okay?”

The little boy sniffles and tries to catch his breath, leaning into where YN is rubbing soothing circles into his back.

“Miss you,” His son whimpers sadly, bringing his voice down a notch, “Come home, please.”

“I am flying’ home tomorrow, bab. Daddy will be home around noon but you have to be good for mama,” He says, voice still smooth and calm.

“Now!” Ezra screams in a way he usually never does and then continues, “Now! Now daddy! Now!”

Both parents are taking aback, Harry with wide eyes and parted lips as he watching his son through his phone and YN just squeezes her eyes shut, exhaling out of her mouth.

“Mama, breathe,” Harry directs towards her, can tell how overwhelmed she is getting from all the chaos of his screaming.

“Daddy, daddy,” Ezra blubbers, green eyes angry and anxious at the same time, “Please, home!”

YN hears noise from behind her, to see her eight year old padding into the room with his unruly curls poking every which way.

“Mama, is Ezzie okay?” Easton wonders, knuckling his eyes sleepily and then Cash follows right behind him in his dinosaur pajamas.

“Fuck, he woke up the boys,” YN informs Harry tearfully, “I just…I don’t know what to do. I can’t do anything to make him feel better.”

The older boys peek into the screen to smile at their dad and Harry gives them a tense smile, “Hi boys, I know Ez is being loud but can y’two be good f’your mama and go back to bed?”

They agree, giving their upset brother a kiss and then their mom before talking quietly to each other as they walk up the stairs.

“Daddy? Home, please! Hold me!” Ezra wails, clinging to his mother’s neck tightly enough to hurt as he tantrums.

“This is the worst it’s ever been, he’s normally stopped before I’ve had to call you,” YN groans, rocking him swiftly against her for lack of a better idea.

“Wait…” Harry sits up, scrubbing a hand over his puffy face, “Has this been happening’ every time m’away?”

“It just started two to three months ago but he’s always been able to be calmed down within an hour or so,” YN replies, shushing Ezra as he babbles over and over again daddy, daddy, daddy.

Harry’s jaw tightens and his frown settles into a deep crease, “Well why a’ve you not told me that m’baby has been cryin’ for me when I’m gone? Do y’not think that’s important?”

YN recognizes his irritation and is running on less than five hours of sleep over two days and may he’s it back with an even sharper tone.

“We can’t change that you’re gone. I’m trying to handle it, Harry.”

“Y’not doin’ a bloody good job at it!” Harry bites back in frustration, heart pounding in desperation as he hears his son cry for him.

“Daddy, daddy, come on.”

Then YN looks at him with watering, hurt eyes, “I’m doing my best. You’re not here, I can’t make you appear. I’m trying to calm him down without having to wake you up.”

And Harry shouldn’t but he’s angry and misses his babies - all of them but especially the one who needs him the most right now.

“Y’dont think I deserve to know tha’ Ezra’s been acting like this?” Harry snaps before adding, “In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.”

And wow, those words hit her like a ton of bricks. It was instilling all the insecurities that she had bubbling in her chest.

In this situation, y’best isn’t good enough because he’s still crying and y’still haven’t been able to settle him.

Harry automatically knows that he spoke before he thought and he let his stressed out mind say untrue hurtful things.

He part his lips about to speak before YN cuts him off.

“If you can do it so much better than me, fucking good you. Then come home and fix this because I give up,” YN laughs without humor, finger finding the red button to hang out and disconnecting.

Harry tried calling back over and over and over but YN just hangs her head, sniffling, as she watches her tired, anxious little son finally drift off to sleep.

At some point, her phone stops ringing when he’s given up and it doesn’t ring again until for another thirty minutes.

She knew he was going to keep calling until she picked up - had been that way since they first started dating.

By now, Ezra was asleep in his room and YN was sat against their headboard - having tossed the tear soaked shirt she had on off and was feeding Briar once more.

The millionth facetime request comes through and finally she swipes to answer, he’s furious right as they connect, “D’you have any idea how worried I am? Y’cant ju-“

He stops himself when he sees his baby girl pop her head from her mother’s breast with puffy lips and look at the screen, “Dadadadada.”

“Oh, hi lil’ mama,” Harry changes his tone completely, face softening - “Did I interrupt y’eatin’? S’mama being so nice and feeding you?”

Briar just smiles with a gapped baby tooth smile, a dimple pushing into her left cheek as she does so.

“Guess I’m good for one thing, right? A fucking milk-maker,” YN scoffs at her husband’s opposite tone as she guides Briar gently back down to finish her meal.

Harry frowns, “Y’know tha’s not anything near the truth and tha’ I think you’re the best mama to our babies. M’just upset.”

“You told me my best wasn’t good enough, I can’t believe you would say something like tha’ to me,” YN begins to sniffle again.

“Sweetheart, m’sorry. I ju-“

“What did you call for, Harry? It’s nearly four-thirty in the morning and I haven’t slept for nearly two days now. I want to feed her and go to sleep,” YN’s voice is disconnected and exhausted.

“To talk, I didn’t say how I was feeling correctly-“

“When you come home tomorrow you can fix everything and I’ll let you because I’m not doing a good enough job,” His wife cuts him off again.

Harry starts to feel a ball of worry form in his throat as he hears how unemotional and distance his wife sounds with him.

He had totally said the wrong things as his wife was just trying to do her best at balancing four babies while he was away.

“Please, let me apologize-“

“I would like to go to sleep. Please don’t call back,” YN responds before ending the phone call and leaving the screen dark.

They rarely ever fought. Especially like this.

He’s man enough to admit that he cries after he tries calling back (even though she said not to) and it went straight to voicemail.

He tries facetiming in the morning, at around nine right before if flight takes off - surprised when it actually was picked up.

Harry only sees YN for a brief moment before she’s propping up the camera on the kitchen table so that Easton and Cash are in view eating pancakes and Briar is in her high chair with blueberries staining her chubby cheeks.

Ezra must still be in bed.

“Hi bubbies,” Harry greets with a smile as they’re curls shake as they look up with excited smiles.

“Daddy! You comin’ home?” Cash squeaks excitedly through a mouthful of food.

“Hi dad!” Easton chimes in, waving.

Briar is only half-interested, more taken by the fact that if she squishes the berries between her fingers they turn mushy, babbles out a, “Daddadaa.”

“I’ll be home in like three hours, ‘kay” Harry informs them - his heart aches to be there right now with theme

“Ezzie cried all night,” Cash let’s his father know.

“Mama cried too,” Easton whispers, like it’s a secret that he doesn’t want her to hear, “I think she is really sad.”

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, “I know. Ezzie was sad last night. Can I talk to mama?”

Easton looks to his mother off camera as she must say something to him to repeat to Harry, “Mama said that she is busy and she’ll see you when you get home.”

He clenches his fist off camera, trying to smile but he knows it’s terse as he says, “Alright, I love you all. See y’when I get home.”

Meanwhile, YN gets all the children settled after breakfast.

Easton, Cash, and Ezra in the backyard - the two older ones digging holes for bugs and the younger playing in the sandbox.

Briar was snoozing in the cradle of YN’s elbow as she sat on a chaise - watching the kids.

She hits the number she was looking for, waiting for it to ring, and then she hears, “Hillside Pediatrics, this is Jess.”

The office knew the family well because Harry is Harry Styles and they have four children who visit there.

YN inquires about therapeutic options for him, resources, and if they had any recommendations for where to take him.

Like the super mom she is, she manages to set up an intake appointment that evening (which was a miracle on its own), call Anne and ask to watch the other children, and then take a deep breathe.

Harry steps through the back door, dressed in his usual Yankees hoodie, Nike shorts, and trainers looking tanner than before.

“Hi bubbies!” He greets, basking in when all of his children look up and squeal excitedly at the sight of their father.

Easton and Cash are the fastest, racing to cling to each legs and nuzzle into his thigh with a tight hug.

Ezra is slower, by the time he’s arrived to his father - there was no room for him to shuffle in and he automatically lets out an earth-shattering wail.

Just like before.

“Daddy! Hold me! Daddy, hold me please!” His youngest son begs desperately, stretching up his arms, and letting hot tears stream down his cheeks.

Harry tuts, reaching for him and popping him on his hip but Ezra has other ideas - scrambling until his nose is pressed into the curve of Harry’s neck with his arms wrapped tightly around him.

“Ezzie, c’mon now,” Harry titters softly, reaching down to give both of his other boys a kiss on the head before they dart back off to play.

“Daddy, miss you,” Ezra blubbers sadly, Harry wincing when his son yanks a bit in his longer curls by the nape of his neck.

“Y’okay, daddy’s got you. Relax, breathe bubba,” His father reassured him, swaying softly back and forth until he’s just sniffing.

“We have an appointment with a children’s play therapist for him later at five,” YN tells him, shushing Briar who’s squeaking from the noise.

Harry takes a deep inhale, “Okay, that sounds like a good idea. Can we talk now since y’been ignoring my calls?”

YN bristles at the attitude in his tone, “Excuse me if I’d rather not be critiqued on my skills as a mother when I am sleep-deprived and stressed out.”

He clenches his jaw, speaking lowly with firmness, “Y’bein’ absurd! I didn’t critique to you, y’blowing things out of proportion! Y’the one who didn’t tell me this was going on!”

“It didn’t get that bad until last night! I could handle it - he would just be upset for a little before bed but he’d never got that anxious before,” She justifies, returning the glare he’s giving her.

“Didn’t think y’could mentioned it to me? I have a right to know, he’s m’baby too. I could have fix this yet you were letting him suffer,” Harry bites out but know as soon as it’s out of his mouth that he wishes he could swallow the words back down.

You were letting him suffer.

YN doesn’t even argue back, just starts bawling because of how hurtful those words were and how could he even say that?

“Mama, fuck- I didn’t, I’m just-“

His wife gets up without a word, using Briar’s blanket to wipe at her wet cheeks, and vanishing through the sliding back doors.

Ezra was snoozing peacefully on him and he couldn’t leave the boys outside alone so he resorts to sitting down on one of the outdoor couches and curse internally.

He couldn’t believe he was being so cruel. He just felt so….betrayed that she hadn’t told him what had been going on and he felt like he was letting down Ezra.

It was a nasty feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach because he was away so much from his family and it was stressful for everyone.

He wanted to cry at the idea of his son crying for him every night.

Harry starts to get anxious when YN isolates herself in their bedroom with Briar for the next upcoming hours.

He knocks softly, opening the door to YN turned on her side away from him, under the covers, with Briar asleep in her bassinet asleep.

“Mama? Y’awake?” Harry murmurs cautiously with a sandwich and chips since she’d disappeared and hadn’t been down once, water in the other hand.

“Are the boys okay?” YN asks quietly, not bothering to turn over to face him.

“Yes, babies are fine. They’re watchin’ Toy Story right now, eatin’ lunch,” Harry replies, eyes falling in his beautiful little daughter.

“If the boys are fine then I don’t want you in here,” YN tells him with an angry tone but low enough that it won’t disturb Briar.

Harry nearly whimpers.

“Baby, please. We need to talk-“

“If the boys are fine, I want you to leave me alone.”

Harry hesitates by the door, feeling helpless as he slips the plate onto the dresser in case she is hungry but he doubts she’ll touch it.

“Alright, I’ll leave y’be. Call me if y’need anythin’ or help with Briar,” He offers, trying to buy time in the room.

She laughs sarcastically, “Yeah, I’ll make sure you’re notified because I can’t do a good enough job myself.”

Harry sighs, running a hand through his hair, trying to conjure up the perfect words to fix this situation but it’s interrupted.

“Daddy? Daddy? Where? Hold me!” Ezra screeches as Easton stands outside the door with him, holding his hand.

“Dad, he won’t stop,” The oldest complains with annoyance as Ezra scurries to his father and up into his arms.

“Daddy daddy,” He chants into his father’s skin with relief.

“Thank y’East, Ezzie’s been sad lately. Huh?” Harry replies, thumbing at Easton’s cheek.

The oldest shrugs, “Not always. Mama cheers him up all the time with kisses and hugs.”

Harry gazes back to the lump under the blankets and feels himself getting choked up. He really really regretted his words.

He didn’t regret being upset with her. He regrets the cheap shots he took at his wife who’s just trying to be a full time mom to his babies.

“Mama?” Ezra squeaks at the word, realizing he hasn’t seen her recently and then he’s back to tantruming, “Mama, mama, mama. Where’s mama?”

“M’right here, Ez,” YN murmurs, flipping to her other side so that her youngest could see her. His face lights up and he scurries to the bed, scampering up until his mom is tucking him under the blankets with her.

Harry’s heart aches when Ezra whimpers quietly and burrows into her warm chest with happiness that he found his mother.

“Y’got him?” Harry asks, hand raking through Easton’s curls as he leans into his father’s side.

“Can we go play now, dad?” Easton asks impatiently, tugging his father out of the room and down the staircase.

Anne shows up and the two older ones are so excited, bouncing up and down as they tug her into the backyard to show her the holes they dug with Briar popped on her hip - gnawing on her shirt collar.

YN brings Ezra down the stairs, curls tamed with a bit styling mousse and a little adias x disney outfit that was the cutest thing ever. ***

Harry reaches out to take Ezra off YN but he whines and shakes his head, clinging to his mother like it was life or death.

“No daddy! Mama!” Ezra pouts angrily, glaring at his father with protectiveness.

He puts his hands up, “Okay, okay. Y’can stay with y’mama.”

The car ride is silent, Harry doesn’t know what to say and YN isn’t giving him anything to work with. He feels like he’ll just say the wrong thing again.

When they pull up to the building and Harry puts it in park, he’s startled when his wife just starts bawling into her hands.

Harry freezes for a second with wide eyes before rumbling, “Mama, sweetheart. Please don’t cry, it breaks m’heart, darlin’.”

“I’m…I’m no-not a good mom,” YN cries, “I wanted to tell you but I was scared. I don’t want you to think I can’t handle raising our babies.”

Harry pries her hands away from her face, cupping her cheeks and firmly staring, full conviction in his voice, “If I didn’t think y’could handle four babies then I wouldn’t have put them in you. I wouldn’t talk about putting more in you.”

YN’s eyes are watering, letting Harry swipe the tears away with his thumbs as she inhales deeply, “I am so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I don’t want you to worry when you’re away.”

Harry leans forward, kissing her harshly before whispering against her lips, “I don’t give a fuck about baseball in comparison to you and the kids. I’d give it up this second if y’asked. I want to worry because you’re the love of m’life and I’m y’husband - I’m here to support you and support our family.”

He continues, “I am a bit frustrated with you. I want you to tell me everything I miss when I’m gone even if it stresses me out or upsets me. Okay? But I shouldn’t have said hurtful things. You’re the best mama on this planet and y’treat our babies the best.”

YN nods, willing herself to stop crying as their appointment starts in ten minutes as she takes steady breathes.

“I forgive you. I’m sorry I let my pride get in the way. I just…I feel like you do everything for us and the least I could do is manage the kids,” She sighs with self-deprecation.

“Mama, just because one of our bubs needs therapy doesn’t mean you’re not doing a perfect job. We’ve always know Ezzie was an anxious baby. This is going to be good for him and for us, right?” He encourages, nosing at her cheek before she offers up her lips once more for a short kiss.

“I love you,” YN tells him, running a thumb of a light dusting of stubble on his jawline.

“Love y’more than anything,” He replies instantly.

Ezra is nervous as they step into the calming, peaceful office where there are neatly organized buckets of toys and shelves of books.

Patricia was a middle-aged woman with a kind smile who welcomed them in, she observed how Ezra had himself wrapped around his dad with hesitant green eyes peeking at her.

As they sit down, Patricia says softly, “This must be Ezra?”

They all wait for a moment before the toddler turns around to look at the woman and says timidly, “m’Ezzie.”

“Hi Ezzie,” The therapist greets and he gives her a cautious smile before nuzzling back into his father’s neck.

The discuss what has been going on. How Ezra has always been very nervous, anxious, cautious in a way that none of his other siblings are.

How he struggles when one of his parents is away from him, how he can get upset if he can’t find one of his siblings, or how much he worries about things most kids his age don’t worry about.

Patricia does an excellent job in calming down the parents, assuring them that it was nothing out of the norm, and that therapy would be beneficial for him.

She states that they’ll work a lot of feelings - being able to describe and recognize them. That will be one of the most important things.

Also working on his ability to calm down and cope with stressful situations, recommending once a week which of course his parents agreed to.

By the end of the intake, Ezra had ventured to take one of the baby dolls from a bin and bring it back to his father.

“Look daddy, s’a baby,” He lisps proudly, holding it up to show him.

“Good job, bubs,” Harry laughs, leaning to kiss his forehead - watching him toddle off to find more dolls to play with.

That night, after all the kids go to bed, and YN is finishing her final feeding with Briar in her nursery before putting in her crib.

Harry runs a nice, steaming bath with lavender bubbles and a candle burning with the lights dimmed low.

When she finds him, he slowly undresses her with warm kisses and praises of how good of a wife and mother she is.

They lay in there together, YN between his legs with her head rested on his chest, as his hands massage at her tummy and hips lovingly.

And yeah, everything is okay after that.

They get up the next day and everything is back to normal except now Ezra goes to therapy once a week with his parents.

(Ezra ends up working with Patricia until he’s in about sixth grade.)

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years ago

Note

fixing the '80s and '90s flashforward problem, "dallas"-style

Everyone aside from her children had passed away.

Lenny first, so long ago now that she doesn't even remember what his stupid laugh sounded like, and then in the march of time, she had lost Susie next. Her parents. Moishe and Shirley. Her brother. Shy. Joel and eventually Mei.

All of the people she once envisioned herself spending her life with are gone.

And the 90's have been rough so far. Halfway through the decade and Astrid had passed.

And Midge finds herself...

Bitter, more than anything else. At being alone.

She doesn't know why she bothers to come to these horrible industry parties. Everyone has heard all of her stories. Her comedy style hasn't evolved terribly. Everyone has heard all of her stories from the old days.

She's a lonely old lady, hauled out to remind people of the way things used to be.

Mrs. Maisel is a footnote in the history of comedy. Just like Lenny. Just like Sophie. Just another sad old tale of someone who used to be great. Her tale is told over and over in documentaries, but no one is interested in her in Midge Maisel now.

She sits in a corner, sipping her martini, watching the people around her - mostly strangers - and wonders when it will be her turn to leave.

"What was Lenny like?"

It's a soft voice from next to her, and when she turns, she sees the sweet, open face of Robin Williams, smiling at her.

Midge huffs and shrugs. "According to the documentarians, we didn't know each other too well."

"Oh, come on," Robin grins. "They don't know shit. And every time he comes up in conversation, there's always some old timer who complains that no one ever mentions you. Honey and Lotus, sure. But never Midge. There's a story there. I would love to hear it."

Midge takes a deep breath, and takes his hand, squeezing it gently. "So everyone knows how I got started in comedy. My husband leaving and my getting drunk and stumbling onto the Gaslight stage...showing my tits. Getting arrested."

Robin chuckles and nods. "Infamous."

She nods. "But what they don't talk about is the man sitting next to me in that police cruiser. Big sad puppy eyes. Cigarette hanging from his lips. Trench coat."

Robin smiles slowly. "Oh, I knew this would be good."

*****

She wakes up with a yelp, shooting upright and looking around her bedroom, panting hard.

Except it's not her bedroom.

It's a hotel room.

Not blue, it's not that particular night, but it's nice, and when she looks out the window, she knows she's still in New York, and when she looks a the décor, she knows she's not in 1995 anymore.

"Midge? You up?"

It's Lenny's voice, coming from the bathroom where she can hear the shower going.

She scrambles from the bed, realizes very quickly that she is naked (though this is her body from 1962, so she's not quite so self-conscious), and grabs the sheet to wrap around herself before rushing to the open bathroom door.

Lenny is stepping out of the shower, towel wrapped low around his waste. Dark hair wet, eyes curious.

"Morning," he grins.

She doesn't respond, merely stars to ransack the bathroom, in search of his little fucking bag.

"Whoa," he rushes to her, gently taking her by the shoulders. "Midge, what's wrong?"

"Where are the drugs?" she blurts out.

"There aren't any, anymore," he reminds her. "Remember? Dragged kicking and screaming to that fluffy treatment place in the mountains? Staying in this hotel while I apartment hunt for a livable place so I can keep Kitty?"

Midge stares at him.

Lenny takes a breath. "You must have had some nightmare if this isn't ringing any bells."

And it is. She remembers. She remembers visiting him in treatment. She remembers him deciding to go back to California for a little bit to spend time with his daughter. Yesterday he got back into town and checked in here - a nice place in the Village - while he apartment hunts. They had gotten dinner last night, and then came back here. She still feels the nice kind of sore from their activities.

Midge's lip starts to tremble. "It was a terrible dream," she confesses.

Lenny pulls her in, holding her tightly, stroking her hair. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart," he says quietly. "It was just a dream. Whatever it was, it wasn't real. Here, why don't you take a turn with the shower, and I can order us something nice for breakfast."

She doesn't respond, only lifts up onto her tiptoes to kiss him softly, holding onto him tightly.

When the kiss ends, she keeps holding him. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Me, too," he tells hers, rubbing her back. "And don't worry. We'll find me a nice apartment. I know yesterday's options were terrible, but there's gotta be something, right?"

"Right," she nods against his chest. "Of course."

#I hurt myself #au #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny #Dallas ending

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obxsummer · 3 years ago

Text

Loss of You // Pope Heyward

Pope Heyward x Routledge!Reader

summary: you had been in love with pope since you could remember, always pining and keeping him close. being forced to see him with girl after girl, you finally give up and pope has to suffer the consequences of your broken heart.

warnings: angst, cursing, reader is v sad not gonna lie

part of #obx2celebration

masterlist

ask me anything

Pope was the worst person when it came to catching hints. He was painfully oblivious and everyone knew, but it hurt you the most. You had been in love with Pope for as long as you could remember, and you hadn’t told anyone in fear of it ruining your friendship. You really wanted to be with him, but if you said anything, you didn’t want him to be with you out of guilt.

The Pogues were throwing a kegger, which was usual for them. You were seated next to JJ with a red solo cup in your hand as you watched people add to the crowd. “Big one this time, yeah J?” You asked as you nudged the boy’s leg with your foot.

JJ’s attention was on you instantly. “Oh, for sure. It’s probably your cute face that brought them here.” You shoved his shoulder lightly before flipping him off. You and JJ had always had a good relationship, but you couldn’t even tell him about Pope without the fear of him spoiling it for you.

The one person you maybe had a shot at telling was your brother, John B. He wasn’t the best secret keeper around, but he was loyal to you and your wishes as his little sister. He was always looking out for you whether you knew it or not. He was nowhere to be seen at the kegger at the moment, but he somehow always had eyes on you.

“So,” JJ turned his attention back to you once he had bored the girl he was talking to enough for her to go away. “When are you gonna tell Pope you like him?”

You choked on the drink in your mouth. “What the fuck, JJ?” You asked once you stopped coughing.

He shrugged innocently. “Look, it’s so obvious. You always look at him like he makes the sun rise every morning. I don’t know how he hasn’t picked up on it yet.”

You groaned and pressed the palms of your hands against your eyes. “JJ,” You huffed before looking over him. “You can’t say anything to him.”

He held his hands up in defense. “Y/N, I’m not gonna tell him shit, okay? You really should though, I would find it hard to believe he isn’t obsessed with you too.” You both searched the crowd for said boy only to come up empty handed. “Seriously, Y/N. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.”

You huffed when you finally caught sight of Pope. He had an arm up against the trunk of a tree, cornering a girl who was smiling while talking to him. Your head fell against JJ’s shoulder as you bit your tongue to keep the tears from pooling in your eyes. He followed your gaze after a second, arm coming to wrap around your back as he pulled you closer. “Shit, Y/N… I-”

“J, it’s okay, I promise. I knew it was too good to be true.”

It was hard to say that wasn’t the last time seeing Pope with another girl broke your heart. JJ had been there every second of it, watching your face fall each time until it just stopped falling completely and stayed that way. You were much quieter, clinging to your friends tightly when you all went out. It was like the outgoing personality you had disappeared along with Pope.

John B noticed first, Kie not too far behind. For once, though, Pope was minding his own business and moving about like nothing was wrong. Your friends were worried. You had never been through a big heartbreak, mainly just flings here and there if at all, but breaking up with someone you never dated was like mourning someone who died that you never got to say goodbye to.

“Y/N/N, you alright?” Your brother asked as he sat next to you on the concrete wall you were moping on. It seemed to be the only thing you did lately, feel pity for yourself. John B didn’t blame you, in fact, he wanted you to feel every emotion you could so you could process it, feel it, and recover safely.

You shook your head, finally admitting to your brother that not everything was okay. “I um… It’s really hard, JB, seeing someone you love with someone else when you feel like they should be with you. A-And I know it’s not Pope’s fault, I can’t blame him for not liking me, but it just hurts.”

Your brother pulled you into his side, his arm resting around your shoulders as he did his best to comfort you. “Look, bubba. I know you really like Pope, and I’m sorry you have to sit here and watch him act this way, but I want you to know that it’s okay to be upset. You’re allowed to be hurting, but I promise you, there is no reason for anyone not to like you. You’re the best girl I know, Y/N, and I’m your brother so clearly that’s saying something.”

John B always did his best to get a laugh out of you when you were sad. You let out a small scoff, tucking your head into your brother’s shoulder as he rubbed your arm. It felt nice to have someone comfort you, tell you it’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. You had gone in circles since you first heard Pope talk about taking someone on a date. You could only blame yourself, you didn’t exactly make a move either, but it felt too risky to put Pope’s friendship with everyone else on the line.

“Y/N, everything okay?” A shiver went down your spine at the familiar voice intruding your moment with John B. You sat up straighter, your brother’s hand falling from your arm before he gave you a reassuring rub on the head and stepped away to give you some space.

Once your brother disappeared from view, you looked up at the boy standing in front of you. “What do you want, Pope?” You asked, not sheltering him from the frustration in your tone.

He looked taken back at the hostility. “Whoa, are you mad or something?”

“Am I mad?” You repeated as you stood up to your full height, taking Pope head on. You had to do this now or you probably never would. “Yeah, Pope, I am really mad, and it’s not even your fault.”

“What does that mean?”

You groaned, mad at yourself that you had let things get like this between the two of you. “I loved you, okay? I loved you so much, and I never told you because I was worried things would change for us and our friends. I sat here and I watched you go with all these girls and make dates and I didn’t say a word. That’s my fault and I’m sorry, but right now, I cannot act like everything’s okay when it’s not. I’m not asking you to fix anything, I just need time and I need space.”

Pope was staring at you, mouth opened wide in shock as he tried to comprehend everything you just tossed at him. He shook his head slightly to clear the blur in his mind. “You… you loved me? Past tense, as in not right now?”

You glared at him. “Out of all I said, that’s what you grasped?”

“Yes, that’s what I grasped!” Pope tossed his hands about wildly. He was so confused. For once in his life, he had no idea what was going on. “Y/N…” He trailed off and shook his head slowly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” You snapped as you dropped your gaze to your knees.

“Like what?”

“Like you love me,” You finished, looking up to glare at him. Your chest was tight and you knew you’d end up crying to JB again later since you finally confronted the problem head on. “I’m moving through this on my own, processing and just… we’ll be back to normal eventually, Pope. I promise. I just need time.”

You didn’t give him room to reply as you stalked off, hands tucked in JJ’s hoodie that you’d been wearing. Pope stared at you as you walked, his own heart breaking as he realized exactly what he had done, what he had been doing. He always thought you were interested in JJ, never him. He distracted himself with other people, other things to do, so he didn’t have to watch the two of you interact in a way that made him hurt. It was now though, that Pope realized he had been hurting you all along, and he never realized it. He sank down on the wall you had been occupying and placed his head in his hands.

Now, it was his turn to grieve someone he never had.

#obx2celebration #pope outer banks #outer banks series #outer banks one shot #outer banks fanfic #outer banks netflix #outer banks x reader #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #pope heyward #pope heyward writing #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward blurb #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward one shot #pope heyward x you

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wkemeup · 4 years ago

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Sunrise (5)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 4.3k warnings: really flippin sweet fluff, more book recs a/n: to avoid confusion - the manner in which Bucky lost his arm is different in this series than in canon 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

For the first time since Bucky was discharged from active duty, he had a routine again.

The curtains were open before he took a shower in the morning; sunlight streaming in through the windows and casting a gentle glow over the apartment. It touched over books piled high on the coffee table, pillows neatly lined on the sofa, and blankets folded over the arm rest. Steve had nearly done a double take the first time he made his usual beeline to whip open the curtains to expose a dusty and unkempt apartment, only to find Bucky making coffee in the kitchen, freshly showered, and the sun shining high in the sky.

It had been almost a month since his first attendance at book club and he’d gone through nearly a book a week just to have the excuse to visit you at the library again for another. You’d given him your number after his first trip to the library with a binding promise to text you if he was held up in his apartment in pain again. You’d sworn to bring books straight to him and read them aloud if you had to.

You had laughed as you said it, like it was only a joke. Bucky had nodded along, but if he were honest, he would have liked that very much.

He’d arrange for times to meet you at the library at the end of your shift where you’d always have a book waiting for him. There’d be a few sitting on the shelf you’d set aside, but without fail, he always opted for the first one you presented to him. You hadn’t led him wrong so far.

After, though neither of you directly proposed it, you’d often find yourselves back at Luciana’s. It was like your feet simply carried you there, a silent agreement to spend as much time together as you could, even if you were both too afraid to admit it out loud.

He came to understand why Sunday was your favorite day of the week. Bucky started to take it upon himself to meet you at the library to walk you to the VA where he fulfilled his word to help move the couches before the usual members arrived. The look of surprise on your face when you bounced down the library steps and caught sight of him leaning on the pillar a few steps away from the busy sidewalk had been enough to convince him to never leave your side again.

Your smile was one he’d learned to memorize. He conjured it when the strangers bumped into him on the sidewalk threatened to collapse his racing heart entirely and it pushed him further. It was enough to convince him to keep going beyond the safety of his apartment walls and it was worth it every time. Just to see you smile at him like that.

***

“Have you started it yet?”

Bucky blinked a few times, reminding himself of his surroundings. You stood on his right side in line at Luciana’s behind a couple of tourists who were having a hard time discerning the difference between a cappuccino and an americano. He raised an eyebrow, confused, and you gestured to the book in his bag.

“Oh, I just flipped through the pages so far,” Bucky said, pulling the book from his bag; thick black cover with a small white illustrated creature staring up at the stars. Everyone's a Aliebn When Ur a Aliebn Too written by an author that seemed to go by a name as misspelled as the title, Jomny Sun. “It looks like a children’s book?”

You grinned and your shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It’s somewhere in between. You have to trust me on this one. It may seem young on the surface but it’ll tug at your heart strings. Hold your judgement until you’ve actually read it, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckled, nodding. “Hey, I never said I didn’t trust you. Just curious where you’re leading me on this one.”

“Be blind, Bucky,” you sang, teasing him. “I won’t guide you into a creepy forest or the bottom of the ocean, I promise.”

“Oh good. I was starting to worry.”

It was strange to feel so light again, but there was something about your presence that allowed him to let go of all the weight he carried. He could set down his baggage at his feet for just a minute to give his back a break, to stretch out his muscles and find relief in the solace. You would have offered to carry some of it yourself if he’d asked— of that he was certain. But it was a heavy load, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for you to see what was inside just yet.

The bell to the café rang behind him and a mother and her young son walked inside. The little boy held the woman’s hand as he scrunched his nose at the smell of the coffee, pouting up at her. A bright red backpack hung off his shoulders, Velcro ties over his tiny sneakers. The soles lit up as he walked.

“Mommy, I want to go to the playground,” the kid whined and Bucky watched you laugh to yourself from the corner of his eye.

“We will, sweetness,” the mother replied calmly. She bent down to brush the hair from the boy’s eyes. “Mommy just needs a bit of caffeine before we—”

“Whoa! What happened to that guy’s arm?” the kid gasped, a mixture of shock and amazement in his tiny little voice.

Bucky tensed up immediately, every muscle in his body turning to stone. When strangers noticed his arm, he was usually met with unwanted stares and hushed whispered, but children were a whole different story. They had no filter, no sense of the unspoken rules garnered by society; they were driven by their own curiosity and something as trivial as politeness did not get in the way of that.

“Oh, honey,” the mother gripped tight to the boy’s arm, lowing her voice in hopes Bucky hadn’t heard him, “you can’t ask things like that.”

“Why not?” the boy replied innocently. “Where’d it go?”

Bucky could feel your eyes on him, studying for his reaction, but he couldn’t offer one. He was stone, after all. A frown tugged at your lips to see the sudden distress wash over him and he felt an aching puncture of embarrassment deep into his stomach. It only took the mere mention of his arm to wipe him to a blank slate, to throw him back to the battlefield where it was torn from his body. Any unexpected reminder of it usually did.

You nodded at him, offered a small smile, like you were trying to tell him it would be alright. Then slowly, you turned around and knelt in front of the boy.

“Hi,” you said sweetly, catching the mother off guard.

“Do you know what happened to his arm?” the boy asked, must to the dismay of his mother.

“Mason! Oh God, I am so very sorry,” the mother quickly apologized, flustered as she desperately tried to hush the boy. He pressed his face into his mother’s arm.

Bucky stole a glance over his shoulder to find you kneeling on the floor beside the boy, smiling at him as he clutched a plush triceratops to his chest. You tilted your head at him, trying to get a better look at the boy.

“You want to know what happened?” you asked softly. He nodded, arms wrapped tight around his stuffed toy. You glanced up at Bucky and his eyes narrowed on you, heart beating a little faster, stomach twisting, before you turned back to the boy. “He did something really brave.”

Fuck.

Did you know?

Did Sam tell you?

Bucky’s legs started to feel weak.

“You like superheroes, huh?” you continued, pointing at the image of a man in a red cape flying on the boy’s t-shirt. The boy nodded shyly. “They swoop in and save the day with their super strength or magic powers, right?”

The boy started laughing, he was smiling again, standing free from his mother’s hold. She was staring at you like you were akin to one of the characters on the boy’s shirt. Bucky felt the stones cracking around his body, freeing him from their grip.

“Is he Super Man?” Mason whispered, glancing up at Bucky with such wonder, it took him by surprise. The boy was so small, no older than four years old. Bucky didn’t know the last time he’d even talked to a kid that young and yet here you were, at the boy’s level, making him laugh and smile and easing the concerns of his mother.

“No, he’s not,” you laughed for a moment. Then, you softened, gathering the boy’s attention again. “My friend here doesn’t have super powers. So, when he saved someone, he got hurt. But I think that makes him very brave, don’t you?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically, grinning so wide Bucky wondered how it was possible your smile could be so infectious. The mother mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ in your direction as the boy quickly changed subjects to the sprinkled donut he was going to eat for snack. She caught Bucky’s eye for a minute and nodded at him, almost in appreciation. He pressed his lips to a thin line. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say anything back.

You ordered his usual coffee and one of the freshly baked muffins, then a drink and a pastry for yourself. In Bucky’s distraction with the kid, he hadn’t noticed you pay before he had a chance. He felt like he was in a bit of a trance as you led him back to a table in the far corner of the shop, away from the windows and the customers.

“You alright?” you asked as you slid into your chair opposite him.

“Did Sam tell you?” Bucky blurted out before he had a chance to bite his tongue. It was the last thing he wanted you to know about and he had half a mind to storm up to the VA just to rip Sam a new one before he shut himself off in his apartment for a few weeks.

It was the reason for the reoccurring nightmares that hadn’t let up in the last month, even when he’d started to have more good days than bad. They’d celebrated him for what he’d done, given him a medal, and thanked him for his service. The very thought of it made him want to vomit.

“Hey, hey, Bucky look at me,” you called gently, your voice at the end of a dark tunnel. He blinked, adjusting to the light. “Sam didn’t say a word about what happened. I had a theory and I made a guess. You’re clearly a good man. It didn’t feel like much of a stretch. That’s all.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, staring down at the muffin as he picked at the paper cup. He heard you sigh, surprised that he couldn’t find a single sliver of impatience in your voice. When he looked up again, you smiled sweetly at him and asked him about Alien – Aliebn? – book; quickly lost in tangent of your favorite pages and moments you were excited for him to read.

He was grateful for the change in subject, but more than that, it gave him a chance to just admire you. There was nothing strange about watching a woman, studying the intricacies on her face and the passion in her voice, when she was speaking right to him. He nodded along, doing his best to actually take in what you were saying, but he was so easily distracted by the brush of steam touching your nose, the press of your lips into your cheeks, the lines on your forehead, and the way your eyes seemed to light up the entire city block.

The kid, his arm, and nearly six years of combat were quickly forgotten when he had the chance to watch you like that. You hardly let him get a word on, too caught up in your own excitement for the novels you placed in his hand, but he didn’t mind. He preferred to listen to you anyway. Your voice had a calming presence about it; soothing and gentle, loving and joyous. If it weren’t for the clock hanging on the wall above your head, he might have sat there all night with you.

“We should probably head over,” he pointed out reluctantly, gesturing to the clock as it approached six.

You frowned, following his gaze to see the time had slipped by quicker than you realized. As you began to clear off the table, throwing the scraps in the garbage and setting the mugs on the counter for Luciana, Bucky began to wonder if maybe you would have sat there all night with him, too. If only he could find the courage to ask.

***

Bucky removed the clip from the book, closed the back binding, and slumped back into the cushions. The room was still pretty quiet, everyone’s noses still down in their books as the soft strum of Simon & Garfunkel played from the speaker by the coffee table. He glanced over at you as you sat beside him, a little closer than usual, though he didn’t mind. Your hip brushed his every so often when you adjusted position. It was a kind of closeness that left him wanting more.

You were only halfway through your own book, but you could clearly sense him watching you because you slowly looked up in his direction, a pointed smile on your face.

“You were right,” he admitted, his voice a hushed whisper in effort not to disturb the other members. “Surprisingly deep considering it’s a children’s book for adults.”

“Hey maybe we need pictures on our pages, too,” you whispered back, teasing him with a nudged to his right shoulder. He laughed, leaning back comfortably against the couch as Tony’s eyes glared over in his direction from the top of his book. He pressed his lips together to keep quiet.

You snickered into Bucky’s shoulder, lips pressing against the sleeve of his jacket and he had never wanted to remove that layer more in his life; to actually feel the imprint of your mouth instead of just the press of your face, to feel the heat in your breath breathe through the thin layer of his t-shirt. He shivered.

“Alright kids,” you said aloud, setting your book on the table. “Times up for today.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! I’ve only got one chapter left!” Clint whined, stretching out dramatically along the table he was laying across.

“Glad to hear it, Clint,” you smirked, hands planted firm on your hips. “Finish on your own time.”

A couple of ‘ooo’s rang out and it reminded Bucky of his days sitting behind a desk in class in grade school and a kid would get called up to the principal's office. Clint took it in stride though and seemed to bask in it, throwing up a pose in face of the chorus.

The crowd quickly dispersed after that, though a few of the older members lingered behind to update you on how far they’d gotten in their books. Bucky watched you from a distance as he started to move the couches back into place, mesmerized by the glimmer in your eye as you spoke to them, a soft hand resting on the crook of their arm, nodding along with a smile on your face – always so genuine in every interaction, in every bone in your body.

Bucky had practically finished arranging the entire room by the time you walked back inside. Your jaw dropped, wide eyes meeting his.

“You didn’t have to do all that by yourself!”

Bucky shrugged. “How long were you doing it on your own before I came along? Take the help when it’s offered, Y/n.”

You smiled at that. “Still. I appreciate it.”

“It’s really nothing,” Bucky said simply.

He hadn’t felt a drive like this is years. Not even before his final tour and the destruction that came with it. He hadn’t remembered what it felt like to want to lift even the smallest of burdens for someone else just to see the weight slip from their shoulders, just to see them smile. He found himself wanting to carry everything you had, even if it started with arranging the heavy furniture of the empty VA library.

You chewed on the edge of your lip as you watched him approach the door, your jacket in his hand. He had wanted to hold it open for you, to let you turn your back and slip your arms through the sleeves, but it just wasn’t something he could do with one hand, and instead, he placed it to hang over your forearm.

A longing for a world in which you met him before his body had been put through the shredder ached deep into his gut. It started to push a frown onto his lips, but then your voice broke through and he shook it away.

“Ready?” you asked, gesturing to the door and he nodded, following closely behind.

There was a sudden nervous energy in the air he didn’t expect, and for once, it wasn’t coming from him. He glanced over at you as you walked in line with him to find you fidgeting with the zipper of your jacket, hands wringing into the fabric, and hair falling out of place and down into your eyes. You exhaled a few tense breaths as Bucky opened the main door for you, following behind as you stepped out onto the side walk.

The two of you stood there for a minute, neither one making a move to leave. You kept glancing back at the VA, then to your watch, barely able to look in Bucky’s direction and he started to feel that familiar twist of anxiety in his stomach.

“Hey, are you oka—”

“Do you want to go for a walk?” you blurted out before he could finish, biting down quickly on your lip as if to stop yourself from saying more.

Bucky froze, confused. He glanced down at his watch. It would be dark soon. “Now?”

A flash of embarrassment quickly passed over your features and Bucky’s stomach dropped.

Was it possible that you just wanted to spend more time with him? That maybe you could crave his presence the same way he did yours?

“N-No, no, you’re right. It’s late. I’m sorry,” you muttered quickly, arms folding protectively over your chest. You kicked at a stone on the sidewalk, watching as it rolled over on its side. “I should, uh, I should head home then. I’ll see you later, Bucky.”

“There’s a park nearby,” Bucky offered before you could turn away. You lifted your head.

“Yeah?” A cautious smile hung on your lips as you stepped closer to him.

Bucky nodded, trying to push away the shaking in his hand. “Yeah, come on.”

A couple minutes passed by in silence as you walked along his side. Every so often, your knuckles would brush up against his hand, a nervous laughter between you as you pulled away. It happened so quickly each time, he never had a chance to respond. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure he would have had the courage to twist his fingers into yours, hold your hand tight to his own, feel the warmth of your palm and guide you along the cobblestones to the small space of greenery amongst brick and steel and concrete.

“I hope you don’t mind me keeping you out late,” you said slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you waited at the intersection to cross the street.

“Not at all,” Bucky replied sincerely, offering you a small smile in hopes to ease your nervousness. Part of him wished he said more, maybe told you that spending time with you was the best part of his day or that you were the reason he was getting out of bed most mornings, but it was too big of an admission. It could scare you away and that was the last thing he wanted. Before he had a chance to decide, the light turned and you stepped out onto the street. Bucky followed closely behind.

The entrance to the park was bordered with a dark metal fence, an arch way carrying over the brick walkway decorated with flowers and vines. You crossed underneath, pausing to stare up the twisting of the leaved through the pattern in the arch, a delicate finger reaching out to touch the tip of a petal. You looked back at Bucky with a smile twice as wide on your face and he hung his head, a breath of a laugh in his chest.

The park was mostly empty for a Sunday evening. The last remaining streams of sunlight lit up the greenery, touching over the flowers and the reflecting into the pond at the center where a family of ducks were waddling along the edge. You seemed to like that, watching how the babies followed the mama along the rim of the water. Bucky turned to his right to find you imitating their walk, chasing after them until they stepped into the water.

Meanwhile, Bucky found a bench sitting under an old oak tree. Its branches hung draped over the bench enough to provide a shadow from the closing sun. It faced the west side of the park, where the sun was setting just over the tops of the buildings and illuminating the sky in brilliant shades of golden orange and vibrant reds.

“You want to sit for a bit?” Bucky asked, gesturing to the bench. His feet were a little tired from walking through Brooklyn all day with the library, the VA, and now this. It was more than he usually did these days – not that he minded. He’d happily allow his legs to be a little sore if it meant more time with you. He’d walk through busy streets for miles if it was you he was walking towards.

You plopped down on the bench on his right, sinking into the old wood. You glanced over at him, hiding behind a strand of hair that had fallen down into your face.

“Thanks for amusing me.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, chuckling to himself. “You act like I don’t want to be here.”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, swinging your feet off the side of the bench. “It’s just... and I hope this isn’t a strange thing to say but... I just like spending time with you. Wanted a little more of it today, I suppose.”

Bucky swallowed, his throat feeling suddenly very dry. His heart stammered a bit inside his chest, butterflies causing chaos in his stomach, but it didn’t make him want to run. He felt no drive to escape, to push those sensations so far out of reach he turned back to the numbed and empty version of himself he’d been occupied by for months before he met you. They were frightening feelings, yes, but they were pleasant ones, ones he welcomed and invited inside.

“You can have as much of my time as you want,” Bucky said as the words fell off his tongue. No filter, no second guessing. No chance to bite his tongue. You looked up at him with a kind of hope in your eyes that made his cheeks start to hurt from how much he was smiling.

You settled back in on the bench, gazing up at the sunset as it lowered behind the buildings. Brush strokes of softer tones blended into the fading blues in the sky, giving way to the moon and stars as they emerged beyond the clouds.

He glanced down at your hand as it rested on the bench by your thigh. There was hardly even a breath of air between his pinky to yours. You were so close; it would only take one instant of courage to bar the space between you.

Be brave, Barnes.

Testing the waters, Bucky allowed the very edge of his fingers to brush over your knuckles. Your skin was softer than he’d remembered from that first handshake in the VA nearly a month earlier. He felt your breath hitch like a jolt of electricity had rushed though you, though you didn’t tear your eyes away from the sunset. Your thumb ran a tender line along his hand as you turned your palm up. Bucky swallowed.

He slipped his hand into yours, curling his fingers to the space between your own, and for a moment he just let himself feel.

He felt for the slight give in your hand, the twitch in your movements as you settled in against him. He felt the gentle sway of your thumb as it painted a line along his, comforting sweeps like you were reminding him you were there. He felt the chill in your skin – cold hands, like he remembered from before – and the heat of his own.

Then, your head on his shoulder. Your legs crossed towards him as you leaned in closer and he made no efforts to move. A gesture like that would have thrown him in a tailspin before he met you; to be this close to someone, to anyone, to sit in the vulnerability of allowing someone to know and feel him.

He looked back up at the sunset. It had nearly dipped below the horizon now; only a few glimpses of color remaining in the sky and the shine of the lamppost just a few feet away.

You sighed in a contented hum, circling your free hand to rest on the inside of his bicep, hooked around his arm. You held him against you like a teddy bear, just wanting to feel more of him.

It was a strange sensation, he thought; this new urge to want to give you as much as his body could offer.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you

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kimnjss · 4 years ago

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just hanging out | jjk

⤑ series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: fluff!... some angst at the end if you squint.

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.9K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: lmao second hand embarrassment probably.

⤑ A/N: hey :( love you all who have been enjoying this story nd sending your thoughts in - they really make my day. so thank youu! let me know what you think x

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 16:49

Casual. You're constantly reminding yourself the entire time you're getting ready. This was supposed to be casual. This was not a date. So there was no reason for you to go through the process of getting ready for a date. You didn't shave, just took a regular shower with the regular soaps.

Spent very little time in the mirror when getting dressed, there was no need for frilly shirts or form-fitting pants. Instead, you settled for a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie that Taehyung had lost a little while back. Minimum makeup, hair up, and out of your face.

Needed to cement it in your mind that this was not a date. Steal away any reason for you to act like it was one. No matter how much you knew you'd enjoy the whole shebang, candlelit dinner, romantic walk admiring the night sky, kiss on the doorstep – you had to ignore that.

Bottle it up and stuff it down because there were many things you didn't know about Jungkook and the bits you did know weren't great. His shitty friends being at the top of the list. So, until you were sure he wasn't like the lot of them... not dates were what you'd settle for. Because at the end of the day, you wanted to see him.

It's a thirty-minute drive from your house to Jungkook's and you spend the entire car ride agonizing on how this 'not date' was going to turn out. And then immediately scolding yourself for freaking out over something that shouldn't matter as much as you were making it out to be.

For all you knew, he probably was just waking up... barely remembering that he had plans with you. Most likely hopping in the shower just minutes before you were said to arrive. Mmh, Jungkook in the shower. Droplets of water rolling over his tone skin, following the dips and ridges until...

It's hard to shake the image of Jungkook showering out of your head once you've got it there. Even with his insistent need to wear baggy clothes, it didn't take a detective to see that the kid was ripped. No doubt spent hours in the gym working on his arms, his abs, his thighs...

Nope. Not going there. No reason to go there when you were on your way to hang out, innocently hang out with a guy that you were just barely friends with. That's all it was. Two people getting to know each other after clicking the first time they talked. God, the way you clicked with Jungkook was unbelievable.

He made you laugh. And it was weird because you don't remember ever feeling this comfortable around someone this quickly. Jungkook was different. At least you hoped he was. Instantly, you're shushing your thoughts. Refusing to mentally put so much pressure on something that more than likely become nothing.

Getting your hopes up too early was the reason why people got hurt in the first place. So this wasn't a date. And you weren't going to expect him to treat it as such. Just hanging out to get to know each other. That was it.

That was it. Your new mantra as you shove your car into park, heading up the walkway to his front door. Knocking while repeating those four words to yourself. Casual. That was it.

You're not even waiting a full minute before the front door is being pulled open, revealing a fresh-looking Jungkook. Dark hair falling in pretty waves, on either side of his pretty face. He seems to be glowing and you feel it throughout your entire body when he smiles.

A baggy pink sweatshirt swallows his figure, paired with equally loose gray sweatpants. His house is spotless when he lets you in, obvious that he spent the duration of the morning cleaning. The smell of Lysol still lingered in the air. Even the white socks on his feet seemed oddly clean.

You can't help but smile at the effort, allowing yourself to believe that all the trouble was for you.

Once he's setting your shoes in his extremely organized coat closet, he's leading you through the house. Smiling big as he gives you a mini-tour of the first floor and you swear you're paying attention. You're trying your best at least, but it's hard to concentrate on anything that wasn't how cute he looked.

“And this is the arcade,” He's showing off both rows of teeth with his broad gesture into the room located at the end of the hall. Obviously proud of this part of the tour.

As he should be. When the kid said arcade, that's exactly what he meant. Old school game machines lined the walls, ones that you'd actually find in an arcade. Some games that you've never heard of before. All with the high score name: 'Koo'. A dramatic two-person car racing game tucked in the corner.

There's a curved 90 inch TV mounted on the wall, in front of it on a stand is every game console ever made. He has his laptop set up in the room, with two monitors and two gaming chairs in front of it. In the middle of the room is the most comfortable L shaped couch.

All you can say is, “Whoa.” And he's laughing at your reaction.

“It's my favorite room in the house. Well... aside from,” His eyes shift up, obviously gesturing to upstairs where his bedroom is.

The insinuation has a blush darkening your cheeks, but you choose to ignore it, stepping further into the room with a tiny gasp. “You have Skee-ball!?” He's right behind you as you rush across to the room to where the game is set up. A manicured nail pressing against the start button, grinning wide up at him as the balls roll down.

Bright red numbers flash on the screen, the high score followed by his name: 310...Koo. A smirk instantly settling onto your features as you reach for one of the bright-colored balls. “I'm gonna beat that,” Lifting a finger to point at the numbers on the screen.

Jungkook is letting a loud laugh leave his lips, a pretty smile settling on his features as the sound dies down. “That took me two weeks... good luck,” Drawing your hand back, you release the ball on the swing. Watching as it travels upward toward the slots, dropping right into the gutter.

It takes four throws before you're getting it right, the ball traveling up the slope and directly into the 40 point slot. You're letting out a loud whoop, arms lifting in slight victory.

Eyes wide, you're turning your head to face him. “You saw that!?” You're shocked that he's already looking at you. With this soft lovey look that you were the one to hang the stars in the sky. And it makes you wish that this was a date because if it were you'd be able to let yourself enjoy the feeling that comes with the way that he's looking at you.

But it's not a date. So you don't. Shove the fuzzy feeling away with a shake of your head, reaching for another ball from the rack and thrusting it forward.

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 18:08

Jungkook is scary good at games. Like scary good. If he wasn't matching your score, he was doubling it. Didn't even graze his high score in Skee-ball and every game after that was his domain. And he was having fun beating you, the smile growing on his face each time you were crossing your arms with a pout – claiming the game had to be rigged.

Foosball to Car Racing to Dance Dance Revolution (he had way more rhythm than you'd expect). You've settled down quite a bit since you first showed up at his house, finding it easy to relax around him. He was cute when he got competitive, not like you were much of a competition in these games... but it was nice to see him like this.

The scrunch of his nose as he focused on the screen. The cute dimples that popped out whenever he won. And how he mindlessly sat close to you, engulfing you in his sweet scent. There was just something about being with Jungkook that made you feel at ease, could someone who made you that comfortable really be as bad as his trash friends?

His shoulder brushes against yours as he settles further into the comfort of his couch, his thumbs moving over the controller quickly. Implementing combo after to defeat your character. In the fourth round of Mortal Kombat and you've only one once.

“Hey! You said you'd let me win,” He's laughing, not even letting your character get up before the large K.O. letters appear on the screen and his person is giving their little victory remark. A dramatic huff leaves your lips, the controller being tossed to the side to cross your arms over your chest.

All he wants to do is lean in and kiss that pout off your lips. Has wanted to kiss you since he beat you in table tennis. You're so pretty and he can't hold back from moving closer to you, guiding your movements just so he can have an excuse to touch you. And he doesn't miss the way you blush. The cute giggles that you let out when he flirts with you. Making him want to flirt with you more just so he can hear the sound.

“I tried,” He speaks through a laugh, taking in the skeptical look on your face. “I did! You're just so bad,” His eyes watch your fingers move around the controller, switching the screen to the character choice.

Gasping when his words sink in, landing dainty punches onto his shoulder. “You're mean! Rematch. I'm not bad,” Jungkook's pressing start on the game as soon as you both have picked your characters, leaning back against the couch as he instantly starts trying out combos on you.

Your whines and protests are cute. It's all he can focus on when he's supposed to be paying attention to the game. And the shout of triumph you let out when you're managing to knock his character down squeezes at his heart, he can't help but turn to look at the smile on your face.

“Look at you losing!” He's sure his health bar is at the end by now, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. In awe, because how could someone actually look like that? So effortlessly... beautiful?

The tip of your tongue poked out the corner of your lips, brows furrowed as you work hard to take him down. So wrapped in the game, you don't even realize that he had stopped playing. It's his luck too, no telling how embarrassed he'd be if he was caught staring. Yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Not until you're jumping up excited, clapping for yourself and your win. “Did you see that?” Your body is whipping around, forcing a surprised look on his face. Worried that you might've caught the way he had been looking at you. “I just fucking destroyed you! You can't even say that was beginners luck, either.”

You're lifting your hand for a high five, which he's happily giving to you. His smile matching yours as you flop down on the couch beside him, thighs grazing over each other and he feels it in his chest. “Do you want a chance to redeem yourself?”

Not even a minute is spared for him to answer because you're already starting up a new round. He's got his game face on now, shaking himself out of the daze. “Can you believe I just kicked your butt?” There's this taunting look on your face and all he wants to do is lean over and kiss you.

He takes for teasing you instead. Noticing your ridge posture that he had commented on in your picture. “I don't know how,” A large hand reaches over to touch your back, your body automatically leaning into his touch. “Your form is all off, it had to be luck.” Just a bit of pressure is applying to your back and you're slouching forward.

With a laugh, you're rolling your eyes – reaching a hand back to swat his away. “Watch me beat you like this too. I'll even let you pick my character,” You've been using the same girl since you started playing while he's surfed through the entire catalog. He's taking you up on the offer, picking one of the bulkier characters that don't do all the jump moves you seem to love so much.

And you still beat him.

This time distracted by the frustrated rants from you whenever your guy doesn't do what you tell him to. Time runs out and he ends up having less on his health bar and you're taking that as a proper win, lifting your hand for another high five.

Jungkook congratulates you quietly, more so trying to figure out just what was going on inside his chest. He's had girls over before. In much more intimate settings than this... but never has he felt like his heart was about to burst through his chest. This unbearable feeling to be close to you and it's quickly becoming all he can think about.

You're just so pretty. And you look oddly sexy in your sweats. But it's not just that. There's something else that he can't really place that's pulling him to you. Making it hard for him to stop thinking about stupid things like holding your hand or kissing your cheek. Imagining if days like today were the norm and after he'd grow tired of playing games, you'd let him stretch out his head in your lap – playing with his hair.

And it has to be crazy because this was only the first time the two of you were alone. The late-night texts being all he had to back up knowing you, but at the same time, he felt like he knew you. Like he's known you well. He can't describe it either, but he's almost positive that you feel the same.

“Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza?” You've already whipped your phone out, reluctantly putting a bit of space between the two of you as you scroll through your phone. Jungkook is quick to agree, fingers moving over the buttons on the controller to switch the TV.

No idea why he all of a sudden feels so nervous. “Sure,” He's managing to mumble out, but you're not listening. Already putting together a pizza for both of you. “Do you, uhm... do you wanna watch a movie? Something on Netflix?” Your thumb is stilling on the screen at the mention of Netflix.

Yoongi's playful warning ringing loudly in your mind. 'Playing video games was just Netflix and Chill with more steps,'. But there was the chance that he was actually tired of playing games and wanted to watch a movie with you. It didn't have to be that serious, you had been going at it for hours.

“Yeah, go ahead. Pick something.” His body slouches back on the cushions, scanning through the movies halfheartedly before choosing a random one with a really long title. After tapping his fingers against the screen, the neon orange lights in the room are dimming. A comfortable warmth settling around you.

Jungkook watches as you take your time putting the order together. The beginning credits playing on the screen and he's not even paying attention, too busy with his eyes glued to you. “I got meat lovers, you like that, right?” Setting your phone aside, you allow yourself to sink into the comfort of the cushions.

“Mmh, my favorite.” Not a lie. It really was. And the fact that you had chose it without knowing just added to everything about you that made him want to kiss you. A small smile spreads across your lips as you nod, turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

The two of you sit side by side, watching the characters on the screen, but you're not listening. It's hard to hear over the pounding in your chest. The nervous bounce of his leg as if he was waiting for something. And you have no idea what because the pizza is no where near being on its way.

A pretty girl is in an argument with her male lead, something about debt and you're trying your hardest to follow the storyline. Although, you have no idea what this movie is and why he picked it.

It's the thick yawn from beside you that catches your attention, Jungkook's arms lifting over his head in a stretch. You don't think much of it, other than the fact that he's being a little dramatic with his stretch. Until the arm closest to you is dropping down, not at his side like it had been before but around your shoulders – gently tugging your body into his side.

“Did you just do the yawn move on me?” You can't help but laugh. Even through the darkness, you can see the pink tint on his cheeks. “Shh, this is my favorite part.” You're actually positive that he's never seen this movie before, but don't put up a fight. Instead, you let yourself lean into his chest.

He's warm. And smells like flowers. His eyes don't move from the screen as he's reaching down, soft hands reaching for the outside of your knee. Slowly, he's lifting your legs onto his lap, only glancing in your direction briefly to gauge your reaction. Leaning back when there's no sign of you wanting to move.

“Your feet are so small,” Toes curling at the random attention, you're leaning over to reach for his face attempting to pull his focus. “Don't make fun of them! What the heck?” He's laughing loudly at you, allowing you to move his head. Shifting his focus from your feet to his face.

Your fingers are cold against his warm skin, but he can't keep himself from leaning into your touch. “They're cute.” Big eyes scan over your face, smiling softly when they're landing on yours. “You're cute.”

Almost instantly, the atmosphere in the room seems to shift. And you're not sure how he did it, but the way he was looking at you, the soft whisper in his voice... you can't but melt in his strong arms. Basically sat in his lap and it's nice. Jungkook takes his time with inching forward, entering your space which has your hand falling from his face.

He's quick to replace your hand with his one your cheek, tilting your head up toward his. You're sure he's going to kiss you. It's obvious with the slight pucker of his lips, the droop of his eyes, he's tapping a rhythmic beat against your knee ten times faster than the rush of your heart. He was going to kiss you.

Jungkook was going to kiss you and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Nerves on a ten because this wasn't even supposed to be a date. And now you were in this situation and you weren't the least bit unhappy about it. You wanted him to kiss you and it's a new feeling that you don't fully understand. It freaks you out.

Just inches from your lips and your face is twisting up, head jerking back before he can reach you. “What are you doing?” Instantly hating yourself for the embarrassed look on his features that slowly morphs into a puppy dog pout.

“I was going to kiss you...” Jungkook mumbles out sheepishly, dropping his arm from your body to push his hair back. Making an effort to put some space between the two of you, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

Because in his mind he had done everything right. Had been making you laugh all night, set some type of mood, told you that you were cute. And you seemed to be enjoying yourself... so what was he missing?

“Why would you do that? This isn't a date, Jungkook.” The mantra that you thought you had worked into your head seemed to be slipping. Not sure when you had forgotten what this was supposed to be, but now it was all rushing back to you.

The reasons you had rejected going on an actual date with him in the first place. And the realization of how stupid you were to think that this was a proper substitute for it. No matter what you decided to call it, it didn't erase the fact that this... tonight, with him... felt like a date.

And it wasn't supposed to.

“Do you kiss all the people you just hang out with?” It's wrong to put the blame on him and only him, but you can't help it. You're a mess in your head for a plethora of reasons, because it had been obvious. How he was looking at you, his arm around you, your legs in his lap... everything that you decided to ignore.

But in the same breath, he told you this wasn't a date... so why bother with all sweet shit. Turning movies on for one reason. Maybe you were reading too deep into all of this? Maybe you were overreacting. Jungkook didn't act like his friends when he was with you, maybe he was really different.

“Oh, come on, Yn... are you being serious?” He doesn't look all too embarrassed anymore, just a little bit sad from the rejection. It's fine, though. He'll live. “Dead serious, Jungkook. You got me here saying this wasn't a date. You need to stick to that,” You felt strongly on that part.

You had told him you didn't want to go on a date with him and even though this 'not date' was literally the same thing, he shouldn't act as if you had said yes to a date. Right? He should keep his word, that way things wouldn't get messy. Like right now.

Jungkook seems to put it together in his head, nodding his head in agreement – yet, the pout doesn't leave his lips. “Alright, alright. Fine. My bad,” He's tugging at the rolls of fabric on his sweats, avoiding eye contact with you. Dark hair covering his eyes, all you can really see is the pink of his lower lip.

And you feel bad, even though you know you shouldn't. It's not like you would've hated kissing him. It was just too nerve-racking to think of doing right now. You didn't quite understand it yourself, so there was no way you could go and explain it to him.

Instead, you're extending a finger. Poking the tip of your nail into his knee. “Don't pout. Come on, you'll miss the best part.” Referring to the movie that you're both watching for the first time, but it has a smile pushing onto his lips. His head lifting and gaze shifting onto the TV screen.

“Sorry,” He mumbles out after a moment, but you're not sure if he's apologizing for the almost-kiss or something else. Either way, you're flashing a genuine smile in his direction, lifting a hand to playfully shove at his shoulder. “Don't worry about it. It's fine,”

It really was.

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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writingfandomfeels · 4 years ago

Audio

Tadashi Hamada - Drunk Karaoke

A/N: I wrote this yearssssss ago after first falling for Tadashi Hamada and being inspired by this clip of his voice actor Daniel Henney singing on YouTube for a different role. I hope you can listen to the audio and enjoy imagining Tadashi serenading you in this story <3 “No.” Tadashi breathed, staring at his phone.

“What?” You asked, approaching him.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no! This can’t be happening!!!”

“What is it?” You repeated yourself.

“I only got 65% on the last assignment! I don’t understand, I worked so hard!!!” He huffed.

You searched yourself for some way to encourage him. “There’s other assignments right? I’m sure you’ll do better on them. Maybe just check with the professor on what you were getting wrong and see if you can make up for it?”

“No, not in this class, she’s very strict. Absolutely no makeups, she’s warned us. I could still check why though so at least I’ll know… ”

“Why don’t you come out with us tonight?” Fred offered, suddenly appearing in the back of the emptying nerd lab. “Yeah, you won’t be able to hear back from that teacher tonight anyways and you got nothing else to do. Have a little fun for a night. Wasabi is DDing”

You looked to Tadashi, curious his response. Your boyfriend wasn’t much of a bar goer but he did go with his friends on occasion, usually as the designated driver though.

He sighed. “Yeah, okay, might cheer me up after all this.”

You crowded around the bar, each taking turns ordering. Except Fred. He took 3 shots and ran off to dance. Wasabi got a diet coke since he's the designated driver and Honey ordered a martini. Everyone looked surprised when Tadashi got ready to order too.

He shrugged at their expressions. "It's been a long terrible day that I really just want to forget."

"Well if you're in the mood for forgetting..." Gogo paused and ordered some complicated drink then slid it to him. "It's my own little concoction. Strongest stuff I've ever had."

Tadashi eyed it hesitantly.

"I...don't know Gogo," Honey said looking at Tadashi. "You don't have to drink anything if you don't want to." She reminded him.

He shrugged. "Why not. What have I got to lose." He said and began drinking Gogo’s concoction.

"Hey! Look! It's karaoke night!" Wasabi said turning his attention to the stage opposite the bar.

Honey gasped. "Tadashi! You should sing!!"

You looked at him shocked and impressed. "You sing?!!"

He shook his head. "Only in the shower or when I don’t notice I’m doing it. I'm not nearly drunk enough for karaoke."

"Well then! That can be arranged!" You laughed and ordered him a shot.

He chuckled. "I would have never thought you the type to get someone drunk and take advantage of them." He teased.

"What can I say," you shrugged, "I love singers”

"Oh, do you?" He asked watching, interested.

You smiled at him coyly and he quickly took the shot. Not long later, he's making dumb jokes and like a hyper little kid.

He giggled as he stared at you.

"What?" You smirk.

"There's two’a you." He giggled more. "This is so awesome. I love having two’a you. But wait which one is the real you ‘cause I don'wanna acciden’ally kiss someone who's not my girlfriend." His eyes grew big as he slurred. "Whoa, yeah, that would be bad....but two of you!!!" He exclaimed excitedly again.

You laughed with Honey and Gogo at him.

"So does that mean you're drunk enough to sing for me now?" You asked.

"Sing?! OHH YEAHHHHH I WAS GONNA SIIIING FOR YOUUU, okay okay just....just wait here...." He said and got up from the bar stool, stumbling a bit. "Just stay here..." He held his hands up, "I'll I'll be right back...okay?"

"Okay, I'll be here." You smiled.

"Okay." He said and started to leave but then ran back to kiss you, catching you off guard, and then ran back to the stage.

Gogo chuckled at your surprised look. "Yeah, he gets a bit clingy when he's drunk."

"A bit clingy?!" Honey said as if what Gogo said was a terrible exaggeration.

Gogo chuckled again. "Okay, a lot clingy! Once he wouldn't let Honey go to the bathroom alone."

"He kept saying I was his best friend and not to go but I was like ‘Tadashi I really have to pee! And what about Fred he's your best friend too?’ Thankfully that got him distracted enough to tackle Fred with hugs instead of me." Honey explained.

You laughed at the story with the girls.

"Next up! Ta-" the MC paused and looked at Tadashi who was just off stage "dude, I can't read your handwriting… what does it say?"

Tadashi just grabbed the mic from him instead.

"Heeeelloooooooooo Sanfransokyooooo! It is I, Tadashi Hamada, here to serenade you.....buuuuuuuut mostly just my girlfriend ‘cause she's a dork waffle and got me drunk so I would sing to her." He slurred. "But it's okay ‘cause she's really cute. Okay! This is a song! Called...ahh....umm....a thing, I dunno......anyways I umm OH! Oh it's starting!!! Everyone it's starting, shhhhh! Wasabi it's starting, look, shhhhh!!!"

You and the group laughed at him and Honey got out her phone to video it. Frankly, you were quite impressed with his talent.

When he had finished, the whole bar applauded like mad. "Thank you!!!" He shouted and dropped the mic. He picked up his baseball cap that had fallen while he was head banging, then jumped off stage.

You got up off your barstool to meet him. "You were amazing!!!!" You shouted over the new music playing. You reached your arms out to hug him but he pulled you into a sloppy kiss instead.

"Let's dance." He grinned and pulled you deeper into the crowd.

Moments later, you bumped into Honey again.

"IVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU GUYS EVERYWHERE!!!" She yelled over the music. "YOU GOTTA COME SEE FRED!!!!" She dragged you off behind her and soon you come within view of a mechanical bull that Fred was totally rocking.

Having a few drinks in yourself, you decide you want to try it too after Fred. Tadashi didn’t realize this at first though, so got upset when he saw you getting on it.

"WhAdder youuu doing?!!" He scolded.

You shrugged. "Giving it a try."

"No no no no no!!" He said, running over and trying to carry you away from it. "I don't want you to get hurt!"

"But Fred didn't get hurt." You pointed out.

"But Fred is a idiot so even if he did I woulden’ be too worried. But you’re too pridddyyy t’ fall an’ break your face. Fred can break his face if he wants though." He slurred and pulled at your hand. "C'mon let’s do something else.” The drunken boy looked around the bar for something else to do.

“LOOK DARTS I LOVE DARTS DON’T YOU LOVE DARTS?!" he said excitedly and pulled the darts from the board then backed up. "I'm sooooooooo good at darts, just watch me," he said, giving you a charming crooked grin and a wink.

He threw the first dart and it hit the edge of the board. The second hit about 2 inches from the target, and the third....hit your forehead.

"Aaahhhhh!!!" You grabbed at your temple before looking down to see the bright red blood on your hands.

"OH NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" He rushed over to you. "I'm SO sorry Y/N!!!!!" He apologized, looking at the cut and hugging you. "We gotta get Baymax! Baymax!! BAYMAX!!!" he began calling and wandering a little. "OW! BAYMAX! OW! BAYMAX! ACTIVATE!!"

You held your stinging temple and ran after him, grabbing his arm with your non-bloody hand. "Hun, Baymax is at home." You pointed out.

"Oh" He paused, looking worriedly at the dripping blood. "Well let's go find him then!!!" He said, determinedly scooping you up into his arms and heading to the doors.

Once outside he wandered up and down the street almost whacking your head on a light post. "Umm..." he hiccupped, "where are we??"

You laughed. "How bout we get Wasabi to drive us instead?"

He nodded, setting you down and going back inside with you to find your friend.

***

“Aghh, my head…” Tadashi groaned the next morning.

You rolled over in bed to face him. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

He looked at the bandaid plastered to your forehead. “Did I do that?” He moved his hand up to his head, groaning again. “Everything is so hazy.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t that bad.” You reassured.

He turned over to pick up his phone, checking the time to see how late the two of you had slept in. In doing so though he noticed an email notification.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe it.” He breathed.

“What?” You asked curiously.

“My professor… she’s actually going to let me make up my grade!”

“That’s amazing!!!” You cheered.

He looked at the time again. “Not if I don’t make it to meet her!”

Tadashi jumped out of bed, instantly regretting the fast movement.

You cringed as you watched him place a hand to his mouth, willing himself not to vomit.

Hurriedly he changed out of his pyjamas and into the first clothes he could find.

“Good luck!” You called after him as he rushed away.

#tadashi hamada #tadashi hamada imagine #tadashi x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #tadashi imagine #big hero 6 x reader #big hero 6 imagine #big hero 6 #big hero six #bh6 x reader #bh6 imagine #my writing

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the-broken-truth · 3 years ago

Note

Lady dimitrescu s/o bonding with the daughters?🙍‍♂️

(Ex: giving cassandra fighting/hunting tips)

Broken Truth: A Little Father-Daughter Bonding Time? Let's get writing!

- Bela Dimitrescu -

"Here, Bela." A deep voice called out as a buff hand held out a white hard-cover book with the title 'Creatures of Greek Mythology. Bela looked up from the book she was reading, locking eyes with the only male of Castle Dimitrescu that wasn't turned into wine or dinner - [Y/N] [L/N], Husband of Alcina Dimitrescu & Step-Father of the Dimitrescu Sisters.

"What's this, Father?" Bela asked as she placed her bookmark in her place before closing the book in her lap and took the book from her step-father's hands and looked at it closely.

"I noticed that you are fond of books that regarded Ancient Civilizations & Unknown Creatures. This is a book I've had since I was a child living in Greece (The Reader is Greek in this case)." The man exhaled as he took a seat in the chair beside the blonde-haired girl.

"Your book?" Bela looked at the book again before looking at her step-father. "Then this must be important to you, Father. Why would you give me this?" Shee asked.

"My mother told me that I would have a family of my own someday and I would want to give them my most prized possession - that book was the last thing my father gave to me before I never saw him again. I have read it more than 1,000 times by now; I'm sure Athena would be annoyed with me if I read it again." He explained.

"Who's Athena?" Bela asked.

"She's the Greek Goddess of Reason, Wisdom, & War." He said.

"DID SOMEONE SAY WAR?!" Cassandra's voice echoed in the room.

"There is no war, Cass!" [Y/N] yelled back.

"But, I heard war!" Cass retorted.

"Then go read a book about war!" the man replied.

"Reading about war!" Cass confirmed.

"She likes war, now." [Y/N] said as he looked back at Bela.

"Wait - If Athena is the Goddess of Reason, why is she also the Goddess of War?" Bela questioned.

"Well, she's not the official Goddess of War - that title belongs to Ares, The God of War. He and Athena kinda have a bit of a... sibling rivalry going around about that since most of Athena Followers see her strategy about war more successful than Ares' - they call her the Goddess of War." [Y/N] explained.

"They're siblings?" Bela's eyebrow rose.

"Half-Siblings: They have the same father but different mothers." The man corrected.

"Who is their father then?" Bela asked.

"That would be the King of all the Gods - Zeus, God of Lightning & King of Olympus." He said.

"Olympus?" Bela questioned.

"The Realm of the Gods." The father said.

"THERE ARE OTHER GODS?!" Bela questioned as the man chuckled to himself.

'This is going to be a long night.'

Sure enough, it was - Bela constantly asked questions with everything her father said, even at the dinner table - she wanted to know more. The man just chuckled as he chewed on his steak while his wife gave him a glare that said...

'What have you done?'

- Cassandra Dimitrescu -

"Whoa! Oph!" Cassandra landed face-first on the floor of her step-father's training room, once again parried against and sent face-first into the ground.

"I've told you once and I'll tell you again, Cass; you can't overthink when in a fight, it gives your opponent time to get you when you're distracted in your thoughts." [Y/N] said as he rolled his wrist, letting it pop before placing it on his hip.

"I don't get how you do it, Papa." Cassandra groaned as she picked herself off the ground and turned to face her father. "You move too fast for me to keep up."

"I move fast because I don't think - I let my body move for me." He said with folded arms.

"What do you mean? Bela told me that the brain controls all movement so how can you move if you don't think about it?" Cassandra asked.

"Have you ever heard of instinct, child?" He asked.

"You mean while those animals?" Cassandra asked.

"Not like that. Allow me to put it like this - has your body ever suddenly stopped, for now, reason just in time for something to almost hit you or you almost trip on something?" The father asked.

"Ummm. Once - Dani got mad a threw a knife but I stopped walking just in time for the knife to hit the wall in front of me." She remembered.

"That's what I am talking about - you were mindlessly walking and your body stopped just in time before the knife hit you. Your body sensed danger and stopped to keep itself from getting hurt." [Y/N] explained.

"So...if I don't think and I'm attacked - my body will react on its own and stop itself from getting hurt?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes. The body knows it needs to be protected and will not let anything hurt it but overthinking can cancel that instinct and you get hurt in the process." He explained.

"Oh...Can we try again?" Cass asked.

"Not tonight, little bug. We can try after breakfast in the morning. Deal?" He said as he rose to his feet.

"Deal, Papa." Cassandra smiled at her father figure - she was happy her mother chose him.

- Daniela Dimitrescu -

"Daddy? What's that in your hand?" Dani asked as she looked over at the small glowing box in her father's hand.

"This? It's my Smartphone." [Y/N] said as he looked up from his phone.

"Smartphone? So, it knows stuff?" The girl asked with a tilt of her head - she looked like a confused red-haired cat. "Well, it does if it's connected to the internet - that's why I got the Wi-Fi Box set up in the study." He said.

"Wi-Fi?"

"It's Wireless Internet."

"What's Internet?"

"The...World Wide Network - you can do almost anything on the internet. You can buy things, watch videos, play games, or whatever you want."

"Can I torture people on it?" Dani asked.

"Well...you could but I don't think you should." Her father said.

"How can I use the internet?" Dani asked.

"You need a piece of Smart Tech - Like a smartphone, a computer, or a smart TV."

"How do I get one?" She asked.

"I'll order some for you and your sisters, I have one for your mother already coming."

A Few Months Later - Dani became the mistress of the internet and then asked her father for a PS4 for her birthday. At night, you can still hear the wild cackling of the witch who devoured the souls of noobs in Call of Duty.

- The Dimitrescu Sisters + Alcina Has Had Enough! -

"Let him go! Father is going to tell me more about Greece!" Bela yelled as she pulled on her father's right arm.

"No! Papa and I are going to train so that I can master my Ultra Instinct!" Cassandra said as she pulled her father's left arm.

"As if! Daddy and I are going to play Call of Duty together! There's a team who wants to go against us and I need Daddy to help me crush their souls!" Dani yanked on her father's foot.

[Y/N]'s teeth locked in pain as he was being pulled apart by his daughters - he was happy they wanted to spend time with him but this was painful.

"That's enough!" He was suddenly yanked upward from them - they all looked up to see their mother with her husband's head buried into her chest.

"Give Father/Papa/Daddy back!" The sisters demanded.

"No! Listen here, you little gremlins, I haven't been able to spend time with my own husband because of you and your hobbies. You can do what you want alone because I have going to have my husband to myself if it's the last thing I do" Alcina said as she marched off with her husband slowly suffocating in her breasts.

#resident evil 8 #alcina dimitrescu x male reader #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

The New Kid

A Mark fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: the new kid in town is nerdy, quiet, and cute. The two of you grow close, but could he be hiding a secret that might put your life in danger?

Pairing: Spider-Man!Mark x female reader (Mary Jane?)

Other Characters: best friend!Haechan, Ex-Boyfriend!Jeno, Villain!Taeyong

Genre: Superhero! Sci-fi, fluff (enemies? more like awkward classmates to lovers), some angst and violence, comedy, a little suggestive?

Warnings: a little cursing, minor mentions of verbal abuse, gun usage, some violent acts, blackmail, hostage situation

Word Count: 10K

(A/N: alright well..this shouldn’t have been this long but I had a lot of fun with this one so I hope you enjoy it😂, Spider-Man Mark is just so adorable my heartssnsjksjsjksk. Also..barely proofread, so mistakes, I know they’re there, but I pretend I do not see them😌)

—————

“Good morning class! Everyone please welcome our new student, Mark Lee!”

Your teacher held her arm out as she welcomed Mark in your Chemistry class.

Your head snaps up from your notebook.

A boy with round eyes and short brown wavy hair walks in.

“Hi..” he gives a thin smile and a small wave.

Your first thought is of how adorable he is. Your second thought is of how he looks nervous to enter a new school just a month after the year has started.

The class is silent with the exception of a few sniffles and music blasting through headphones.

Please don’t sit here, please don’t sit here.

You didn’t really have anything against him, you just loved having a table all to yourself.

“Please..sit beside y/n, for now.”

Damn it.

Mark pulled the chair out and sat beside you.

“...hi.” He said as he placed his backpack down.

“Hi.” You raise your eyebrows and open your notebook.

You just had to sit next to the awkward new kid. Perfect.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

You and Mark worked on your first project together. You had to come up with a presentation for the fall science fair, so you had to work well together.

“It’s a chance for you guys to get to know each other and build yourselves!” Your teacher said excitedly but the truth was that you weren’t thrilled to be working with anyone.

You rolled your eyes and turned to Mark.

“Alright..where do we start?”

“Well, the instructions say to combine water and salt first, so I guess we’ll start there.” Mark puts his round glasses on and smiles at you, but you frown.

“Okay, you’re the nerd so..” you raise your brows.

Mark chuckled. “We barely know each other.”

“Come on, who in the world wears glasses like that, You look like Harry Potter.”

“I love that movie, is that a bad thing?” Mark asked with genuine confusion.

“Harry Potter is great and all, but what horror movies do you like?” You started to doodle in your notebook.

You loved horror movies, you loved autumn and everything dark and dreary about it.

“Hmmm..I don’t watch horror movies..”

You gasp and drop your pen. “You don’t..watch horror movies?” Your eyes widened like you had been hurt deeply by his lack of taste.

He returned the same look of shock. “They’re not my thing.”

“Aish..what a loser..” you say under your breath.

You turned back to your notebook and continued to doodle.

“So where are you from anyway, Potter?”

“I’m from Toronto.”

“I see, and this little town looked appealing to your parents, didn’t it?”

He nods and looks at the side of your face, noting how under your bleak persona and poor attitude, was a pretty face and gentle touch. He could tell from the way you delicately drew in your book.

His senses also picked up on your relaxed blood pressure and steady breathing.

He saw every pore and heard every breath you took, your lashes looked extremely long as well, bringing about a dazzling gorgeousness to your eyes.

The very surface of your round lips was soft and plump, there was a shade new to him that rested at the center.

“Mark?” You turned to him.

He quickly looked away and shifted in his chair.

“Y-yeah..I’m living with my aunt here..my parents passed away a while ago.”

“Oh..I’m sorry..” you looked down at the table.

“Hey. You don’t have to feel bad about it..”

Mark smiled softly as he heard your heart rate speed up from nervousness.

“Mark..I-“ the bell rang and you thanked the heavens for it.

Mark turned and grabbed his bag before you could say anything else. “Well, I’ll catch ya later.”

“‘CaTcH yA LAtEr’” you mocked him to lighten the mood. “Yeah, Potter, I guess we’ll work more next time..”

He laughed.

His eyes became small lines and his cheeks puffed up, he was adorable, like a kid in a candy store.

You turned away before your face became hot.

———

[1 Month Later]

“The new kid is kinda cute..” Haechan took a sip of his juice while the two of you ate lunch.

“God, I wish I was in your class, do you think the counselor will change my class schedule now if I come up with a dumb excuse?”

You rolled your eyes. “Nah, I don’t think she will, and even if she did, why would you want to be in a class with that nerd?”

Mark was sitting by himself at a table in the corner, he was reading a book while chewing chicken tenders.

Haechan pouted. “But just look at him..I bet he’s the best kisser, do you see those lips?”

“Ew Haechan! He’s my partner in class, I don’t want to think about his lips!” You gagged and started to peel your banana.

Mark could hear you, he could hear everyone’s conversations in the cafeteria for little did you know of his secret.

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t give him a chance, even though you gave a notorious school douchebag named Jeno one?” Haechan glared at you.

You kicked his shin under the table. “We don’t say that name here anymore.”

Haechan hissed. “You’re closer than I’ll ever be to that cutie..you better take advantage of that, I bet he’s super nice too.” He rested his chin in his hands as he swooned over Mark.

You rolled your eyes then locked eye contact with Mark just as you stuffed the banana into your mouth. You were frozen. The banana was about halfway in and Mark never let your eyes go.

You chomped on it and looked away.

Mark giggled and went back to reading his book.

“You open your mouth pretty wide for a girl that doesn’t know how to use it..” Jeno snickered as he walked by your table.

Your mouth was full so you couldn’t come up with a quick comeback, but luckily, that’s what Haechan was there for.

“Oh, shut up, big head. Like you could fill anyone’s mouth with that chicken nugget of a wee wee!”

You nearly choked and covered your mouth as you laughed.

Mark, who was over 30 feet away, laughed too.

Jeno quickly turned around to walk back to your table, but ended up colliding into Taeyong, the scary and filthy rich senior that everyone stayed away from.

Him and his posse, complete with Yuta and Johnny, were tall seniors that gave everyone death glares. Even the teachers weren’t safe. Taeyong’s father was the wealthiest man in town, he was a kingpin so he possessed a lot of power.

Jeno raised his hands. “Whoa, bro, I’m sorry.”

Taeyong steadied himself and pulled his hands out of his pockets. The entire cafeteria froze, you all had never seen anyone get in their way. Taeyong walked around in black clothing and never took his hands out of his pockets for it ruined his nonchalant attitude.

The black haired boy crossed his arms and stepped towards Jeno.

“If I were in the mood..I’d tell you to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness..” his intense gaze made Jeno tremble. Hell, even you swallowed hard from fear.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

Taeyong’s mouth tilted into a smile, he rubbed his thumb along the side of Jeno’s face. Johnny and Yuta stood behind him while they smirked and chuckled at Jeno’s subordinance.

“I know it won’t.”

He walked away and out of the cafeteria.

Jeno scurried back to his group of friends while the rest of the students resumed their lunch.

Mark didn’t like the sound of this guy. He knew who his father was and he knew that he would be the only that could stop him and save the innocent lives threatened by him.

Later that day, you were getting ready to leave school when Haechan popped up behind your locker as you closed it.

“Shit!” You jumped when he popped up.

He cackled. “You know, for someone that watches a lot of horror films, you sure do get scared pretty easily.”

You huffed and swung your backpack over your shoulder. You didn’t notice Mark behind you and your bag nearly smacked him in the face, but thanks to his senses, he ducked quickly.

“Y/n!” Haechan saw Mark behind you.

“What?” You said as you turned.

Mark was there behind you, squatting below you awkwardly and looking up at your face.

You furrowed your brows. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get a peak of something down there?”

Mark shot up straight and shook his head.

“N-no, no I’m sorry I was just..I know we are a little behind..but I was wondering if you wanted to work on the project together after..school, or-or something..” he looked nervous to talk to you. He kept looking to the side to dodge your eyes.

“I can’t today..I’m-“

Haechan butt in excitedly. “Oh! That works perfectly! Y/n, I was actually coming to tell you that I can’t go to the movies tonight! I have to do some extra work with my partner too! We can all study at Starbucks!”

You turned to him and glared. ‘What the hell’ you mouthed.

His eyes grew. ‘Just say yes’ he mouthed while nodding towards Mark.

Mark still looked to the side.

“Fine..meet us at the Starbucks on 10th at 5..loser.” You gripped the strap of your bag while walking away.

Mark chuckled at the nickname you gave him. He thought you were different, cute, but different.

At Starbucks, Mark was there before you were and ordered coffee for you.

“For me?” Your eyes widened.

Mark nodded and smiled widely. “Yeah! I don’t know if you like cream or sugar, so I got it black but everything is over there if you-“

You giggled and Mark swore he saw heaven when you smiled. “I know how it works, Mark, thank you for this.”

You rarely said his name, but he felt weak when you did.

Haechan and his lab partner joined the two of you. You did some more research for your project and talked about it while Mark jotted down important notes.

Haechan and his partner, Renjun, were supposed to be doing the same thing, but Haechan was too busy staring at Mark’s eyes.

“Haechan..Haechan!” Renjun tapped his hand.

They continued to work and as everyone got more tired, you noticed that Mark wasn’t jotting down notes like he did in the beginning. He was watching you talk, he liked watching your lips move and hearing your soothing voice. His eyes were locked on your face; it made your heart tremble.

“Mark?” You raised your brows and bit your bottom lip.

“Yeah..yeah!” He shook his head to come out of his daze.

“Did you catch anything I said? You've been staring for at least five minutes now..”

“I was..focusing.” Mark averted his gaze to the ceiling.

You shook your head. “You’re weird, Potter.”

Mark licked his lips and looked at the table. “I’m sorry I’m just a bit tired..”

“Me too! I think we should call it a night!” Haechan stretched his arms out and up high.

He cleared his throat as you all started to pack your things away.

“Mark..so we’re all going to the movies to see that new horror film, “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark” tomorrow. Wanna come?”

You kicked his shin again.

“Mark doesn’t like horror movies.”

Mark scratched the back of his head. “Well, I only said I don’t watch them, not that I don’t like them..”

You sighed.

“Perfect! So we’ll see you tomorrow at 8! This is so exciting, it feels like a date!”

“Haechan!” You stood up from the table, glaring into his skull once again.

He shrugged his shoulders and stood up too. The four of you walked towards the door.

Mark only laughed awkwardly.

“Hey.. y/n..”

You paused and turned around. “Yeah?”

“Will you be alright..getting home at this time?”

You laughed out. “I’m fine..I take the bus at this time all the time!”

Mark nodded.

He was caring and it was strange for you, for someone to genuinely care about you for the first time in a while.

He had his own car. An old Hyundai that got him where he needed to be. He had parked it outside of the Starbucks.

He waited with you at the bus stop right outside. Haechan took Renjun home.

“We can wait in my car if you want..it’s kinda cold out here.” He asked as you pushed your hands into your hoodie and shivered.

“My mother told me to never get in cars with strangers.” You turned to him and smiled.

He chuckled and stepped forward on his toes.

“Well, if that’s what you consider me to be then..I won’t push you..”

You shook your head. “Mark..you’re weird..I was just teasing, take me to your chariot before I freeze to death, please.”

You got into his car and the two of you sat in silence.

You checked your phone and saw that your bus was running about 20 minutes late.

You sighed and leaned back into his car seat.

“Do you like this town so far?” You looked out the window as you spoke.

Mark loved being near you, you calmed him down and his senses didn’t go crazy like they usually did. Sometimes everything was so unbearable, but not when he was around you. He was happy that no one was in danger while he spent the evening with you.

“It’s..alright..” he spoke honestly, finding it difficult to lie about how he struggled to adjust to his new life, without his uncle, without his hometown friends, without his “normal, super power-less” life. He had been bitten by a spider and given these powers just a few months before moving.

“Do you miss your friends?”

“Of course..” he swallowed hard as he remembered playing basketball with his buddies.

“And your girlfriend..”

You let it slip out before thinking. Why did you care?

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend..”

You turned to him with bunched up brows. “Boyfriend?”

Mark giggled. “I don’t have either..why do you ask?”

He smirked as he tilted his head.

You scoffed. “Oh, Potter, don’t give me that look..I just wanna know more about you.”

“What about you? Tell me about yourself.”

You swallowed hard. “Well..I think this town is boring..my parents are divorced and missing half the time..I broke up with my asshat of a boyfriend, Jeno, before school started..and now I’m stuck here with the school loser.”

“Stuck?” Mark raised his brows. “You can jump out any time you want and stand in the cold.”

You put your hand on the door handle but he quickly leaned over and placed his hand on yours. Your breath hit his neck. He turned to you with wide eyes as he realized that he was actually touching you.

You froze.

He froze as well. “I’m..I’m kidding, you shouldn’t leave until your bus gets here.”

He sat down in his seat and cleared his throat but you still felt his soft hand on your skin.

You chuckled. “You’re so strange, Mark. I guess it’s a Canada thing.”

“I like..spending time with you, if I’m being honest. I don’t have many friends here but you’re..cool.”

You turned to him. “Cool?? You think I’m cool?”

Mark put his head on the steering wheel and sighed, realizing the mistake he made. “Why did I say that?”

“Haha! Potter! You can’t take it back!”

The two of you spoke about music and entertainment. You told Mark that you were happy to see that he was going to try a horror movie with you tomorrow. You finally opened up to him as he did to you also.

You both laughed and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

He was a breath of fresh air in this town.

————

[The Next Day]

“It’s going to start in 5 minutes, where is he?” Haechan huffed as he looked at his watch.

You stood at the front of the movie theatre and looked around for Mark, but he was nowhere to be found. Was he really ditching you? You bought him a ticket and popcorn which had gotten cold by now. The ads that played before the movie were almost done. Haechan gave up and went into the theatre with Renjun. You stood there alone, awkwardly waiting like someone that was being stood up for their date. You looked at your phone but there were no texts or calls from Mark.

“Hey, I know you..” a voice spoke out from behind you.

You felt a sense of relief.

That was, until you turned and saw him.

Taeyong stood there with his hands in his midnight black trench coat, his hair was neatly parted to the side and two gold chains dazzled around his pretty neck.

“Are you alone?” He stepped towards you, a chill ran through your body and it wasn’t because of the temperature outside.

Your face fell, you stepped backwards away from him.

“I’m—I’m fine, thank you.”

Taeyong smirked when he saw your face of worry. He looked smug, dangerously handsome and cool.

“Whoever it is you’re waiting for...they’d be a fool not to show up..” his voice was deep, giving you goosebumps as you stared.

Was he flirting with you?

You laughed awkwardly.

A girl in a thin black body con dress walked up to him and grabbed his arm.

“Ready, babe?” She flipped her hair as she stared at him, but he still looked at you.

You felt bad for her. Yeah, she looked good, but at the cost of freezing in 20°F weather? Not even a gorgeous man like Taeyong was worth that.

“Sure..” he said smoothly.

They both walked into the theatre. You followed soon after. You found Haechan and Renjun and joined them. Haechan gave you a questioning look but you shook your head.

Mark never showed up.

He was too busy stopping a robbery downtown. It was him against 7 heavyweight champions trying to rob a bank. They were Kingpin’s men, but Mark used his web to bind them to the counters until police came.

By the time he finished, the movie was almost halfway done.

He sighed and grabbed his mask off while in a dark alleyway. He unlocked his phone.

You to Mark: where are you, loser? The popcorn is getting cold.

He smiled to himself. You got him popcorn, one of his faves.

You to Mark: gonna eat this by myself if you don’t show..

The next text message was a picture of Sour Patch Kids candy, the watermelon kind that he also loved.

You actually remembered him telling you he liked watermelons one day in class.

He closed his eyes and cursed quietly. He wanted to get close to you, but he was already messing things up.

————

[The Following Monday]

You threw your backpack down and sat in your seat in class.

Mark walked in soon after.

“You ignored my texts..” he said softly.

You ignored him and put your Bluetooth earbuds in.

He sighed then looked at his notebook.

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me?”

You bobbed your head and started writing as music played.

Mark looked around. Everyone had their heads down, they were either writing in their books or reading. So he put his hand behind his back, he quickly shot a web out to your ear bud. It malfunctioned and suddenly stopped working.

You took it out and looked at it.

“What the hell..” you whispered, genuinely confused as to why it burnt up while actually in your ear.

“Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t show up on Friday, but something happened..I wanted to be there, and—“

You finally turned to him. “Yeah, you chickened out. I’m sure you had better plans for your Friday night than to watch a stupid horror movie with me.”

Mark frowned. “No, no it’s not like that at all.” He wanted to be there with you and watch your face as you enjoyed something dear to you, he wanted to share popcorn and gummies, but those moments are a part of normal life for a normal teenager. He couldn’t have that.

“Really?” You raised your brows and placed your head in your hand. “I know what being second place in someone’s life feels like, Mark. It’s the same crap my parents and my ex put me through..I won’t go through it again.”

Mark shook his head and leaned towards you.

“I’m not like them, I’m here for you, give me a second chance..”

“Hey! Less talking about the weekend, more writing about science!” Your teacher called out.

When class ended, Mark followed you through the halls.

“I had something personal to take care of, y/n. Can we see a movie tomorrow or something?”

You shook your head and gripped the strap of your backpack. “There aren’t any movies out right now that I’m interested in..”

“Okay, umm how about a pumpkin patch?!”

You turned to him with wide eyes. “What are we? 10 years old?” You scoffed and turned to walk then bumped into someone’s broad chest.

You looked up slowly. It was him. “Oh..I’m sorry.” You exhaled.

“Be careful, I might just bite next time..” Taeyong’s smile gave you the creeps. It bothered you that you were seeing him more frequently.

Mark took your hand suddenly. “Hey..we’re gonna be late.” He spoke firmly and glared before taking you out of Taeyong’s sight.

Mark kept pressing you for a second chance as you continued to walk to the cafeteria.

“Okay, fine. Umm there’s this Halloween party this Friday, I don’t really want to go, but-“

“Let’s go! We can get something to eat after, my treat!”

You nodded quickly just so he’d leave you alone.

“Okay, Mark, let’s just get through this week.”

———

[Friday Night]

Haechan helped you out of his car when you got to the party. You wore a tight white dress and a feathery halo along with a small pair of wings.

You looked amazing with glittery makeup and white heels as your accessories.

Haechan dressed as a zombie and did a spectacular job on his makeup. He looked like he had really been bitten on the neck and the virus had spread throughout, leaving him grey with purple and green veins throughout his face.

You pulled your dress down and waited in the kitchen for Mark.

You grabbed yourself a beer and cracked it open.

Haechan drank with you as well.

He swallowed hard. “The nice refreshing taste of piss.”

“Yup, seems about right.” You winced and put the can down.

“Well, well..it seems the Virgin angel has arrived.” Jeno walked in behind you and grabbed a beer. He was dressed as a devil. The two of you had long since talked about dressing as the angel & devil pair for Halloween as a couple, but now that you had broken up, you didn’t think that he'd still do it.

You rolled your eyes. “What happened? Were your natural horns not enough?”

Jeno chuckled and tilted his head. “We’re playing 7 minutes in Heaven next..I’d ask you to join, but I know you’re just a teaser, never a pleaser.”

You scoffed, but Haechan jumped in.

“That’s what your little friend over there said last night when you pulled your pants down.”

Jeno flipped him the bird and walked away.

You went to the bathroom and checked your makeup. You looked wonderful, your boobs stuck out and your dress hugged your curves perfectly. You rarely dressed like this but it was nice to look and feel..pretty., you quickly fixed your lipstick and left.

As you turned the corner, you ran into him again.

“Ahhh..perfect timing, I did say I would bite you the next time we ran into each other.” Taeyong’s eyes widened.

You backed away and laughed.

He was dressed fittingly as a vampire. He was dark and mysterious like one, so you weren’t surprised. He looked even more handsome than usual in his dark eye makeup complete with black liner and red eyeshadow.

But the way he stared made you..uneasy.

His gaze trailed from your lips to your cleavage as he eyed you up and down.

You stood there in silence.

“Do you—“ he started to pose a question as he stepped forward but his girl walked up and hugged him from behind.

She squeezed him gently, but Taeyong looked annoyed. “Let’s go upstairs, baby…” she said lowly while looking into your eyes with an evil glare.

Haechan came and grabbed your hand. You turned away from the two love birds and followed him, never once worrying about what Taeyong had to say again.

“He’s here!” You heard Haechan gasp.

Mark walked in. He was wearing a...Spider-Man costume.

You giggled at how cute he looked in it. You saw his cute little butt as he spun around looking for you through the crowd in the house.

You raised your hand. “Mark!” You called out to him.

He finally saw you and started to walk over.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. He was adorable as he giggled.

“Why Spider-Man?”

He shrugged. “Eh—I like the way my butt looks.”

You laughed and took his hand to the living room where a few people sat on the floor a circle.

They spun a bottle and whoever it landed on would be placed in a closet for 7 minutes in heaven.

Two members from the group were missing so you and Mark took their spots as they did whatever they were doing in the closet. He helped you squat down while pulling your dress down your thighs.

You rolled your eyes as Jeno held his new girl crush close to him. If he wanted to be with her in the closet, why did he sit beside her? You thought to yourself.

Everyone took turns spinning the bottle and when it got to you, you spun it fast, hoping that it wouldn’t land on someone that you knew, that way it would be just as awkward for the both of you.

Mark watched the bottle spin and based on the speed and rotation of the beer bottle, he knew that one end would end up pointing to you and the other would point to..Jeno.

As it spun, he placed his hand behind his back.

He looked up and pointed to the kitchen with his other hand.

“Oh my god, what is that?!” He yelled, causing everyone to turn to look at whatever he was pointing at.

You turned as well, so Mark quickly shot a small squirt of his web to increase the speed a little.

“What are you talking about?” You asked when you turned back to him. Everyone else turned back too.

“Oh, I could’ve sworn I saw a rat..maybe it was a decoration.” He shrugged his shoulders.

The bottle slowed down to a halt and just as you dreaded. It landed on you and..Mark.

Jeno laughed out loudly.

“What’s so funny?” Mark gave him a look of annoyance.

“It’s just that..she’s the biggest prude I know, good luck bro, she doesn’t give it up.”

“Maybe because she doesn’t want to..I mean, have you thought about how much of an asshole you are?” Haechan spat out.

Mark looked at you as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“Y/n..you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to..”

Jeno chuckled again.

You didn’t really want to be this close with Mark, but you had to. You had to prove Jeno wrong, even if you and Mark did nothing but stare at each other. You wanted Jeno to know that you weren’t a prude like he thought.

You stood up and nodded. “Let’s go..”

The two of you stood in the tight closet awkwardly.

The light was dim, but you saw Mark’s features clearly. His dainty nose and high cheekbones, his wide eyes and cute lips. He looked to the side nervously.

The truth was, you looked amazing in your dress. He felt his face become warm when he looked at your cleavage. The glitter made your skin sparkle even more than it usually did.

“So…” you stepped up and down. “I’m glad you came..”

“I’m glad I came too.” He swallowed hard. “Oh.. that, uhh, sounded weird, I’m sorry..”

“Mark..” you giggled. “You don’t have to be awkward, it’s me..it’s just that I’m wearing tight clothing for once..”

He chuckled and looked into your eyes. He raised an eyebrow, making your stomach weak.

“It’s not just that..” his voice is lower, quieter so no one can hear the two of you.

“What is it then?” You smirk.

He stares at your lips and as he’s about to answer a red alarm blares out in his head. His senses are tingling, someone is in trouble.

He squints and turns away. “I-i have to go…”

You step forward. “What? Are you..okay?”

You place your hands on his shoulder.

He loves the touch but can’t stop this nagging feeling. He had to go where his mind told him to go, he had to tend to whatever needed him or else he'd go insane from the noise.

“I can’t explain it, it’s like a migraine, I..just have to go.”

He turns to head through the closet door but you step in front of him.

“Mark, if you leave it’ll just prove Jeno right. Please just 5 more minutes, I’m sure you can stand being with me for just that.”

“I can’t. I have to go.”

You scoff and continue to block the door. “What? Do you have to run home to your aunt or something? Are you out too late?”

Mark shakes his head. “Y/n..it’s not that, I just—“

“Gotta be a good boy and go home now?” You teased him to buy time. You really didn’t want Jeno to gain any satisfaction from learning that the two of you did nothing.

“Y/n..” he looked intensely into your eyes. His eyes then floated down to your lips as he watched you nag at him.

“Mark, what is it with you? You bailed on me last time! Do you hate being around me or what?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you hard and sudden.

Your back hit the closet door causing it to swing open.

But Mark didn’t care, he still held your face close to his and caressed your mouth. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the feeling of him on you. The way his tongue traced over your bottom lip for permission to enter, the way his nose poked your cheek.

You opened your mouth and turned your head to deepen the kiss.

Sparks flew between you and you both felt giddy. Blood rushed through your veins. Mark’s senses were calmed for a bit as they focused on what he felt right now with you. The building tension and the satisfying release.

You fell into him more and more. Even as the others cheered while watching, the two of you were consumed by each other.

You feel butterflies flying around without any intention of stopping and then..he pulls away. Your eyes open and you see your red lipstick all over the handsome boy’s mouth, confirming that what felt like a wonderful dream was actually a reality.

He stares at you through low eyes and licks his lips while panting.

Your lips are still parted while you too breathe heavily.

Your eyes are round and beg for more. Mark wants it too.

You look at his lips and lean forward, but he backs away and swallows hard.

“Catch ya later!” He runs out of the house as you stand there in shock.

Haechan’s mouth falls open.

“Oh...shit.”

———-

[The Next Day]

Taeyong listened to his father complain about the new superhero in town while at dinner.

“I don’t know where this little shit came from but he’s ruining EVERYTHING. We can’t get a simple delivery done without him popping up.”

Kingpin slams his fork down.

“He shoots a web here, he shoots a web there, and suddenly, my men are down and out! Tell me how that makes sense?”

“I’m sure they will stop him soon, he’ll get tired and give up.” Taeyong’s mother continued eating.

“Christ, I’m stressed and then we get a call from your teacher saying that you’re not showing up for class?!”

His father turned his attention to him while pointing a finger.

Taeyong shrugged.

“What the hell you moving your shoulders for? Answer me!”

Taeyong puts his fork down and sighs. “That class is a waste of time..”

“No, the only thing that’s being wasted is MY time and MY effort to get you to good college, you think I want you to end up like me?” His father’s voice rose.

“Is that such a bad thing?” A smirk fell across Taeyong’s face, irritating his father.

“Listen to me, boy, you could never handle the shit i handle, so DONT even think about it. You take your sorry ass to class and you graduate and go to college. Make something of that pea-sized brain of yours.”

“Honey..” his mom placed her hand on his father’s, but he lifted it and waved her off.

“Don’t! He’s like this because you spoil him. He’s a spoiled little brat.”

Taeyong continued eating, he was used to being insulted by his father.

“Dont speak like that, you’re just stressed because of Spider-Man, dear.”

“Shut it! You know that it’s true, you know he’s worthless!”

He stood up and gave Taeyong a frightening glare.

“You got one chance to prove me wrong, boy, make one more mistake and you’re out and on the streets with the druggies!” He huffed and left the dining room.

Taeyong sat quietly, gripping his fork in his fist and thinking about what to do. How could he prove to his father that he would be able to take over the business?

———-

[Monday]

You didn’t say a word to Mark for the first few minutes of class.

It was awkward but Mark didn’t seem to be bothered. He simply did his work in his notebook while listening to his music.

While the teacher was busy, you turned to him.

“Mark?” You whispered and leaned forward to get his attention.

“Mark?”

He still moved his head to the music.

You tapped his shoulder.

He turned to you with large eyes and took his headphones out.

“Yeah?” He said innocently.

“What do you mean by “yeah?” Are we not going to talk about the party?”

Mark smirked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You nodded. “Mark, what was that about?” You knew what it was, you felt it every time you looked at each other. You had a developing crush on the boy you called a loser, you were just trying to hide it but it was becoming difficult as he was perfect in every way.

His cute eyes, nice lips, beautiful brown hair..you loved it all.

But most of all, you loved how sweet and caring he was, how he spoke to you and made you feel like you were the center of the universe as his entire focus rested on you.

He licked his lips. “I...did that to help you prove your boyfriend wrong.”

You blinked rapidly. “That was the only reason?”

“Um..yeahhh.” Mark looked to the side and moved his head in a “duh” motion.

“Oh..okay..” you looked down at your notebook and continued writing, feeling disappointed. But what did you expect? For Mark to confess his love for you? What a bizarre thought. You shook it off.

Later that day when you were at lunch, Haechan asked you about Mark.

“So what did he say?” He asked with his mouth full.

“He said he was just covering for me.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Ahhh..I doubt it though, you guys made out like..really made out, it was sexy. If I knew you could kiss like that, I would’ve kissed you a long time ago.” he raises his eyebrows.

You made a look of disgust. “Ew! As if!”

You and Haechan giggled and continued eating.

You looked over at Mark’s usual eating spot in the cafeteria, but he wasn’t there.

“Where’s that big head, Jeno?” Haechan tilted his head when he realized that Jeno didn’t pass by for his usual snarky comment session.

“Hmm that’s a good question, I don’t see Mark either.”

“Oooo..are you waiting for a round two with him?” Haechan teased, but something didn’t feel right.

You stood up. “Hey, I’ll be right back.”

Haechan nodded and you turned away to walk around the halls.

You peaked down all of the corridors looking for him.

You eventually went outside to the soccer field and heard whimpering behind the bleachers.

You walked towards it and saw three boys gathered around another boy in the middle. The boy in the middle was crouching down and holding his stomach.

You walked faster.

“Give me his glasses!” You heard one of the boys say.

“He had these ugly things on and still couldn’t see us coming..”

You recognized the voice.

It was Jeno. As you got closer you saw Jeno raise his foot to kick at the boy on the ground, and to your surprise, it was Mark.

“Shit…” you ran closer, but Mark grabbed Jeno’s foot and threw him to the floor.

Your eyes grew as Jeno’s back pummeled down into the ground with so much force, you swore the floor shook. How was Mark that strong?

Jeno groaned in pain. The other two boys stared in shock before turning back to Mark and delivering blows to his chest.

Mark couldn’t take on the two of them.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” He called out to them, he was holding back for their safety.

“Hey!” You yelled as you got closer.

“Oh..look who showed up..the school slut..” Jeno said as he stood up straight and winced from the pain in his back.

“You gave it up to the new guy, y/n? Wow, I guess you are like your mother..”

“Hey!” Mark called out to him, but the other two boys held him up by the arms to keep him from hitting Jeno again. Jeno balled his fists up and was about to hit Mark in the chest.

“You’re an asshole, Jeno!” You ran up to him and swung hard, landing a clean punch to the side of his unexpecting face.

“Hey, what the hell is going on here?!” Vice Principal Kim called out.

“Shit.” You held your hand as a stinging pain shot through it.

The two boys let go of Mark and ran, leaving you, Mark, and Jeno to the mercy of the vice principal.

You sat in detention with a wrapped hand. Mark sat a few desks behind you and Jeno sat in front with a pretty black eye.

You are proud of yourself for doing something you should’ve done to him long ago.

You watched the clock tick for an hour as you sat there with nothing to do.

Mark felt terrible for getting you involved, he would’ve handled it on his own but you jumped in to help him and now you were hurt.

After detention, you grabbed your backpack and left without talking to Mark.

“Hey..” he ran up to you.

“Hey..I’m sorry..about that, I didn’t want you to get involved..”

“It’s not your fault, Mark, it’s just that..I’d rather be alone right now..” you had to walk home after missing the last bus.

“I’ll drive you home, it’s the least I can do.”

You turned to him and raised your brows.

“Without your glasses? Can you even see my face right now?”

Mark laughed. “Actually..I have something to tell you…”

“Go on..”

“I don’t need the glasses, I just like it when you call me Potter.”

A smile creeped across your face as you felt it become warm. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Mark drove you home as the two of you talked about Jeno’s look of shock.

“His face was priceless!” Mark scrunched his nose up and laughed gloriously.

You enjoyed watching him laugh, and without his glasses, he looked even more handsome.

You reached home and sighed. “Ahh..great, now I have to explain to my parents why my hand is swollen..”

Mark lifted your wrapped hand gently. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” He bunched his brows up.

“And if it did, could you take the pain away?” You smirked.

Mark nodded. “I wish I could..”

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I took boxing class in the 9th grade..” you teased him but his eyes widened.

“Boxing class?! That is so cool!”

You giggled. “Mark, you’re so gullible!”

“Oh..” he looked down in defeat and blushed.

A moment of silence rested between the two of you.

You stared at his lips. “Well..I should get going..”

Mark parked across the street from your house so your parents wouldn’t see you coming out of a strange car.

You unbuckled yourself seat belt.

“Hey..” Mark said softly.

You turned back to him and watched his parted lips.

He leaned in closer as you swallowed hard. He was so close, just a few more inches.

Your phone rang out and you looked down.

Shit, Haechan texted you.

Mark smiled and leaned back into his seat. “I’m sorry, um..thanks again.”

“You’re welcome, Potter.” You winked and got out of the car.

He got out of the car and watched you head home.

But his spidey senses started to blare, something was coming, but you were texting on your phone as you crossed the street.

Everything happened in slow motion. The pick up truck speeding towards you, the steps you took to cross the road. You were moving too slow.

He had calculated it all. If he ran to you, he’d be too late, if he jumped in front of the truck he’d be too late and he’d get hurt.

There was only once thing he could do given the amount of time he had.

He stretched his arm out, flicked his wrist and shot a long sticky string out to your back. Once it latched itself onto your jacket, he yanked you back hard.

The truck sped by right in front of your eyes as you gripped your phone and looked up. You didn’t know what was happening or why you were flying backwards all of a sudden.

Your heart races, but soon you were in Mark’s arms. The truck came to a screeching halt once the driver realized that he almost hit you.

He spun you around to face him, not realizing that you were now entangled in his web.

You look terrified. “M-Mark..what the—“ you were out of breath, you looked down and saw the strings coming out of his skin.

Mark’s eyes widened as he looked down as well. The truck sped off after realizing that you were okay. It was just the two of you now, standing there in shock.

“Y/n…”

You let out a shakey breath. “Y-You're..him..You're—“

He put a finger over his lips. “Shhh..you can’t tell anyone.”

“S-spider-Man? THE Spider-Man??”

Mark nodded slowly.

Your mouth dropped.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Mark looked into your eyes and pleaded, his arms still held you tight to his chest.

You nodded but no sound came out.

He licked his lips and smiled. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Mark..holy shit, I’m gonna..”

“Please don’t pass out on me, I don’t want to carry you to your parents while you’re unconscious..”

“But Mark..I mean, you’re like.. a superhero..that’s so cool.” You grinned and still looked at him through surprised eyes.

Mark blushed. “You think I’m cool?”

“Oh, my God why did I say that?” You rolled your eyes.

Mark looked at your lips and it was your time to kiss him.

You placed your lips on his while taking his face in your hands. He hugged you tighter and kissed you back, diving into you like you were a breath of fresh air that he needed. You both closed your eyes and embraced the moment as your pulses ran fast and eventually matched.

You stood there for a few minutes while kissing and hugging like you were in a movie.

Neither you nor Mark noticed a car that was parked 50 feet away.

But not just anyone’s car, Taeyong’s car.

He had trailed Mark’s car after he saw the two of you leaving school. He had nothing better to do and just wanted to see what the two of you were up to, but then he saw how the web shot out of Mark’s hand quickly and how you flew back into him. He saved your life, all while thinking that no one would see him.

But he was wrong, and now Taeyong knew what he needed to do.

———

[The Next Week]

You and Mark hadn’t things official yet, you both were scared for what would happen to your friendship. But that didn’t mean that you didn’t want to kiss him for hours on end.

Mark felt the same way. You had been paired up with someone else at a different table in class. The two of you were now departed and he wasn’t happy about that so he made sure to keep an eye on you.

You finally ate together too. Haechan had his suspicions when he saw the two of you smiling at each other for no reason, but he didn’t say anything.

Then one day, you didn’t show up to class.

Mark texted you the entire night before and even sent you tik toks to laugh at. He knew you were fine and if you were skipping class, you’d definitely let him know. You didn’t respond to the texts he sent during the day.

His spidey senses tingled, he knew something was up.

He called you while at lunch. And to his surprise, you answered.

“Y/n? Where are you?”

There was silence over the line for a brief moment, then you sniffled. “Hey, Mark. I’m home today, I just needed..a break.”

Mark paused. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Mark, I’ll see you later. Please don’t come and look for me.”

“H-“ he started but you had already hung up.

He pursed his lips and looked intensely at his screen. Something was definitely up and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out what it was.

So after his last class, he headed to your house and knocked at the door.

When you didn’t answer, he walked around the house, looking for a way to get in without causing any damage.

He eventually found an open window on the second floor and after looking around to make sure no one was watching, he climbed up the side of the house and entered through it.

He stood up straight and saw that he was in your room, but you weren’t there.

Then he saw what looked to be a body under the blanket on your bed.

“Y/n?”

He quickly lifted the blanket and jumped in horror. It was a slide-sized Spider-Man action figure.

He had a sticky note on his face that pressed “press my belly button.”

Mark pressed the button and heard it speak through its fake mouth.

“Oh, hello, Spider-Man, or should I call you Mark?”

His eyes widened as the male voice spoke.

“Well..it doesn’t really matter..see, I’ve got your lovely girlfriend here with me..”

Mark here’s your muffled screaming in the background.

He grits his teeth.

“And she is here, waiting for you at the very top of the largest building in the city. I know you’re new here, but I’m sure you can find it.”

Mark curses to himself, he was caught with you and by some bastard that he didn’t know. Did Kingpin have his men follow him?

“Oh, and that nice friend of her’s, hmmm Haechan is it? He’s outside her house, but he’s probably all tied up.. don’t be late, Markipoo, we wouldn’t want y/n to hang out with me much longer..”

The recording stops playing. Mark runs out of the house, but stops in his tracks.

He’s too late.

Johnny and Yuta stand beside Haechan’s car. Haechan has JI mouth covered by a piece of fabric but his eyes are open and wet with tears.

He lets out a loud scream when he hears Mark.

They tied him to the hood of the car while the engine runs. He was literally tied up.

“Hey!” Mark calls out and runs towards them, but Johnny places a brick onto the gas pedal and puts the car in drive.

Haechan screams even louder as the car rolls down the hill fast.

Mark runs after it, struggling to keep up as it speeds down the street.

Johnny and Yuta stand back and laugh.

Mark had to find a way to beat, he had to calculate his speed so he could overrun it and stop it. Or he could shoot webs out from the back and pull it towards him.

His mind runs at 100mph as it goes through every possibility while he pants and runs.

“Haechan! Don’t worry! I’ve got you!”

The car is too heavy, and it’s going too fast, so he can’t hold it with his spiderweb material.

He leaps forward and up into the air, landing just a few feet in front of the incoming car.

He puts his hands in front of him and braces for impact. He had never taken on such a huge task before, he prayed that he would be strong enough to take a 4,000 pound car going at 80 miles per hour.

He grunts and presses forward onto the top of the car, causing it to make a loud skrrt sound and a huge dent to form. He uses his legs for stability as he struggles to stop it from going any further.

But he slides downward in his two feet.

“Shit.shit.shit.shit” he murmurs out.

Haechan cries to the heavens for help.

Mark pushes forward even harder while gritting his teeth. He lifts the hood slightly.

With a loud groan and harsh grip, he tears the engine out to stop the car.

The wheels slow to a halt and Mark places the car down.

He stumbles on his feet and nearly passes out, but he had to keep moving, he had to find you.

So he quickly puts his mask on before people come outside of their homes to see what the ruckus is about, then he unties Haechan.

“Oh my God..oh my God, what the hell?!”

Haechan panics and shakes.

“Mark, you’re—you’re..the guy..”

“Haechan, we can talk about this later. What is the tallest building and where can I find it?”

Haechan points in the direction of the tallest building in the town. It’s 1,000 feet high and is owned by none other than Kingpin.

Mark’s eyes narrowed as he clenched his jaw.

He swings through town quickly to get to you.

Once at the building, he decided that it would be faster to climb.

Meanwhile, Taeyong has you tied up and gagged.

Tears stream down your face.

“It’s such a shame things had to be this way..I kinda liked you.” Taeyong strokes your cheek with his thumb.

His phone rings.

“What is it?”

“He should be there soon.”

You hear a man’s voice say on the other line.

Taeyong gives a devilish smile and looks back at you as he hangs up.

“Perfect.” He winks.

He steps forward to you and takes your bound wrists in his hand. He takes your gag off with the other.

“Would you like to beg for your life now?”

“Fuck you, Taeyong! I never did anything to you!”

Taeyong smiles when you curse. “You’re right. All you did was go to class and look pretty...oh and decide to date a superhero. You had to expect us to use you as leverage.”

You shook your head. “Taeyong, you’re not like your father, you’re better than him! Please don’t do this.”

Wind blew your hair back as Taeyong had opened one of the floor-to-ceiling windows on the top floor.

Taeyong’s smile fell when you mentioned his father.

“I know I’m better than him, sweetheart, I get right to the source of my problems.”

He strokes your cheek again. “You know..you’re a lot prettier when you don’t speak, but right now..I want you to scream for me.”

He suddenly pushes you out the window but grabs the end of the rope that has tied your hands up.

You let out a blood curdling scream as you stare down as the tiny people and cars so far below you. You cry even harder.

“Just like that, sweetheart, you sound beautiful.”

He smirks and ties the rope to a pole to keep your body dangling.

“Mark!!” You cry out when you see him in his Spider-Man suit climbing up the building towards you.

“No! Don’t come any closer! It’s a trap!!” You try to stop him but Mark doesn’t stop, you’re right there and he has to get to you.

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout..” Taeyong sings to himself as he picks up his father’s machine gun.

He aims it out of the window and at Mark.

“Down came the rain and washed the spider out.”

He pulls back on the trigger, allowing bullets to fly in the direction of the crawling Spider-Man.

“Mark!!” You cry out once again as Mark let’s go with one hand and dangles with the other. He quickly moves from side to side to dodge the bullets.

He regains his position and continues climbing.

“Oh, he’s a stubborn spider.” Taeyong grins and unloads on him again, this time never stopping.

He moves it from side to side to catch him.

A bullet flies right over Mark, breaking his suit and cutting his skin. He curses then looks back up.

He had to pay attention, he had to get to you.

Taeyong goes maniacal with the gun but he just can’t seem to get him.

He stops when he’s out of bullets and Mark is just a few feet away.

You think he’s given up because he’s lost, but Taeyong got just what he wanted.

“Okay, sweetheart..” he unties the rope from the pole and holds it in his hands. “It’s time to fly like the beautiful angel you are.”

You look back at him with wide eyes. “Taeyong!”

He lets go of the rope. You fall out through the window fast and past Mark.

Mark throws his head into your direction and leaps off of the building towards you.

He tries to fly down fast but he can’t keep up with your falling body, he’s so close but he can’t get to you.

You cry and think about your life, you never imagined this would be how you’d die.

You see Mark coming after you with all his strength, you know he’s doing his best. But it was impossible, there’s no way he’d get to you in time.

And so you felt yourself lose consciousness.

Your head fell back and your body fell limply.

“No, no, no, no don’t give up on me!” Mark yells and stretches his arms out, he shoots two strings from his wrists.

They latch onto you, he pulls back as hard as he can, your body flying into his arms as he still falls down the side of the building.

He spins around and shoots another string onto the building. His fall stops abruptly and his body flings itself into the glass. He holds you in his arms to protect you from the shattered glass.

You both fall onto the floor of an office. People jump up and yell in shock.

“Oh my god..it’s Spider-Man.” a few people say with gasps.

But Mark is focused on you. He doesn’t feel the pain from the impact, for his heart breaks for you. He unties your hands and holds one of them in his own.

“Y/n..y/n.. please talk to me..” leans over you and shakes you gently. Your body lies limply. Your mouth is slightly parted and your eyes are still closed. He hears a faint heartbeat.

He starts to tear up when you don’t respond.

“Y/n, I’m sorry..” he lifts his mask off and kisses you on the cheek.

He doesn’t care who sees him and can possibly expose his identity.

“Please..just wake up..tell me you’re okay..” he then kisses you on the lips.

Your eyes flutter open when you feel his soft lips on yours.

You place your hands on the side of his face, the people in the office clap and cheer.

You breathe him in before kissing him back. He pulls away and smiles down at you. His wavy brown hair hangs over your face and his eyes are teary.

“Are you crying, loser?” You give him a small smile.

Mark laughs and kisses you again.

Once you assured him that you were okay, Mark hunted Taeyong down at one of his father’s warehouses. Taeyong, Johnny, and Yuta waited there for him with a gun and several weapons, but they weren’t prepared for Spider-Man’s speed, strength, and agility, especially when all three were amplified by Mark’s anger. He gave them all an ass whooping they’d remember for the rest of their life, then had the cops come to arrest them. Mark didn’t go into much detail, but you knew that Kingpin, disappointed and hurt, disowned Taeyong and left him on his own to deal with his own actions.

When Taeyong tried to tell him who SpiderMan was, Kingpin called him a fool and deemed him mentally unstable, for a scrawny and nerdy kid with Harry Potter glasses couldn’t possibly have been the Spiderman that was kicking their asses.

Everyone thought Taeyong was crazy and Mark was never identified by the people in the office room.

Johnny and Yuta gave Taeyong up and admitted that they didn’t know who Spider-Man was, for if they had gone along with him, they’d only look crazy too.

Taeyong was arrested for attempted murder of both you and Haechan and sentenced to life in prison. He was tried as an adult and without the assistance of his wealthy father, didn’t stand a chance at getting away.

———

[December]

Finals were over and you could finally celebrate with Mark.

You joined him for the Winter Dance while dressed in a long, sleeveless icy blue dress.

“You look beautiful, like a princess.”

Mark blushed as he took your hand and led you to the dance floor.

You smiled and laughed out. He too looked dashingly handsome like a prince in his black suit and a bow tie that matched your dress. His hair was parted to the side and smoothed back, he didn’t have his glasses so he looked older, more mature.

The two of you swayed side to side. You laid your head on his shoulder and drank in the scent of his cologne. He smelled like flowers, his touch felt warm on your bare back.

There were stars decorating the dark gym in order to set the mood. White snowflakes also danced across the ceiling.

“I...have something to ask you..”

His low voice vibrates against your chest.

You raised your head and looked at all of the beauty marks on his neck and jaw. Funny enough, they were in all the places that you wanted to kiss.

“Yeah?”

Your soft voice makes him weak, he wants to hold you like this forever.

“Will you..” he clears his throat and glances down at you nervously. “..be my girlfriend?”

Your face lights up, you smile widely.

“I thought you’d never ask, Potter.” You kiss him on the lips and spend the rest of the night together.

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obeiii-mee · 4 years ago

Note

Hey! I have a really loud and particular laugh that seems to carry quite literally throughout my house and there have been many times people have bought it up with me (I can’t help it my laugh is just loud & contagious!!). Could I request the bros reaction to MC who quite literally is unable to laugh quietly and ends up being heard through the whole of the house? Thank you!🥰

This is so sweet, geez imma get cavities. I also have a very loud laugh and I startle people a lot when I start laughing so I get what you mean!

These HCs are probably written a lot better because suddenly I’m full energy and motivation-

———————————————

The Brothers with an MC who has a loud and particular laugh:

Lucifer:

-He’ll never admit it but whenever you start laughing or even smiling, he can’t really stop himself from doing it too

-Like, he looks at you as you start cackling about a funny meme Levi just showed you and he’s holding back a smile-

-Because, even though you have such a loud and some would say ‘obnoxious’ laugh, he thinks you just sound so precious

-He really struggles to show that he’s not affected by you as much as he actually is

-Even if you start laughing at an inappropriate time, he’d likely not even tell you off properly

- Would never say anything of the sort to your face, but he low-key admires you

-He thinks it’s amazing that a simple human like you that has experienced so many horrible things every since they arrived in literal hell, can have the ability to laugh so heartily even now

-If you’re in public and start doing your boisterous laugh, he will keep a stoic expression on his face

-There’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks if you look close enough, though I doubt anyone is crazy enough to point it out

-In private though? Appreciate these moments y’all, because it’s one of the few rare times you’ll see him laugh freely

-Even when he’s around his brothers and trying to keep a straight face, you can see his lips threatening to curve upwards

-Basically, he thinks you’re baby and your laugh makes him feel at ease

Mammon:

-I head canon that he also has a very particular laugh because he gives off those kind of vibes

-He probably doesn’t even notice how loud you are when you start wheezing

-Normally, he’d join in and start laughing with you as the rest of the brothers take out their sound blocking ear muffs for the third time that day

-You two are loud ok?

-Poor Lucifer who not only has insomnia and is a workaholic, he also has two idiots giggling to themselves in the middle of the night

-When I said Mammon is trying to get a laugh out of you any hour of the day

-I mean any hour

-He will wake you up to just hear your voice and then proceed to run out as you start yelling at him

-Even if he were to notice it, the worst reaction you’re gonna get out of him is a bit of teasing

-“Ya sound like you’re dyin’ over there human. You alright?”

-When in reality, he’s even more smitten with you because your laugh is just another one of your amazing qualities

-Mammon does the stupidest shit in front of you to make you and hear you laugh because it warms his heart

-Even if he wouldn’t admit it, to you or to himself

-The only time he ‘doesn’t like’ it when you laugh is if you’re poking fun at him with his brothers

-That gets him all huffy puffy and sad

-For a minute, before he’s thrown himself onto you again

-Greedy for money and greedy for affection of course

Levi:

-ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap

-“YOU SOUND JUST LIKE THE MAIN CHARACATER’S LOVE INTEREST FROM THIS NEW ANIME I’M WATCHING! IT’S CALLED: PEOPLE KEEP TELLING ME I’M IN LOVE WITH MY BEST FRIEND BUT I’M ACTUALLY NOT, THOUGH WHOA THEY HAVE SUCH A PRETTY LAUGH!”

-Catch him rambling about it for five minutes straight

-Before stopping abruptly, flushing from head to toe and starting to stutter like he forgot how to speak

-This usually has you laughing again, in a more sympathetic and encouraging way and he just...dies

-He doesn’t like his laugh, at all

-He thinks it sounds really awkward and tense

-So he’s low-key jealous about your rather impulsive laugh because it’s so sweet??? And amazing and cute??? Just like you???

-But at the same time, it’s hard for him to be jealous of it when he loves it so much

-Why do you think he keeps coming to you whenever he finds funny memes or compilations online???

-“I don’t expect a normie like you to understand but look at this.”

-He gets a stupidly cute kick out of knowing that he is the one making you laugh

-I suggest trying not to laugh too much while he’s playing video games because your laugh distracts him so much

-And he will throw his headset at you

-Affectionately of course

Satan:

-He doesn’t give much of a reaction besides a quirked eyebrow and a quiet ‘Oh?’

-Sure, he doesn’t really like it when his brothers are being noisy either because they’re laughing too loudly or because they are fighting gladiator style outside his room

-But you’re the exception

-The only person in that household that could get away with interrupting his reading/work is you

-May come as a surprise to some, but sometimes Satan does get worried for you

-If he hasn’t seen you in a while he might start thinking that something is wrong

-But then he’d hear you laughing from downstairs and he’d smile and think “Eh they’re alright.”

-He thinks your laugh sounds so much more endearing than his own psychotic laugh 🥰🥰🥰

-Will throw one of his precious books at any of his brothers if they make fun of the way you laugh

-Basically, he has the biggest heart eyes for you but he’s too good at hiding it

-Laugh with him whenever something embarrassing happens to Lucifer and he will be so pleased and happy for the rest of the day

Asmo:

-“MC my dear, has anyone mentioned what a wonderfully charming laugh you have? And that says something coming from me.”

-Asmo also has a very noticeable laugh

-Not exactly loud but it could be considered obnoxious (to his brothers) and he giggles all the time when he’s very excited

-Having Asmodeous as your partner is basically the same thing as dating your best friend

-Despite being the Avatar of Lust, your relationship with him is super healthy and even he takes comfort in that

-You’d both be chuckling to yourselves in Majolish or something because this bïtch is hilarious if he wants to be

-“Oh my Lord Diavolo! MC, look! I found the perfect outfit for Mammon!!”

-And it’s a Disney princess dress the size of a fuckn toddler

-You guys laughed so hard you got kicked out >:(

-But you ended up buying that dress for Mammon anyway lmaoo

-Spending too much time with Asmo is similar to the whole “I’m trying to be quiet in class but me and my friend keep laughing every time we look at each other”

-The way both of you have to strain yourselves from full on cackling when Lucifer has a go at either of you 😌

-Except you seriously can’t laugh because you will be ✨murdered✨

-“What do you mEAN YOU DON’T LIKE YOUR LAUGH, YOUR LAUGH IS GORGEOUS! NOT AS GORGEOUS AS MINE OBVIOUSLY BUT IT EASILY COMES IN SECOND!”

-That’s the kind of hype he gives you all day every day

Beel:

-The first time he properly heard you laugh was when you started making puns and you were laughing like crazy at your own jokes (samesies)

-And he just loves seeing you this happy because he gets happy and then he doesn’t even want to eat anymore, he just wants to hug you

-“I like your laugh. Do it again for me?”

-Your heart went doki doki

-It’s common for Beel to make you all flustered without meaning to and then you nervously start laughing again because you feel so awkward

-BUT your face brightens up so much when you start laughing or even smiling and he can’t help himself from complimenting you

-Your joyous and loud chuckles always cheer him up

-To the point where he completely forgets how hungry he is

-Took you a while to figure this one out but his mood sort of changes with yours??

-If you’re visibly sadder than usual, he his morale is also surprisingly low and he starts eating more than usual

-In comparison to when you’re all bubbly and doing that beautiful laugh of yours and he gets like these butterflies in his stomach instead of the usual pangs of pain and hunger

-So now he just wants to hear your voice in general on repeat for the rest of eternity

-Im not crying you are

Belphie:

-“You’re too loud dumbass, I’m tryin’ to nap here.”

-Will deadass throw a pillow at your face if you wake him up

-Like hes so rude and for what?

-He loves you and your annoying as fuck laugh, he really does I promise

-It’s a special, unique part of you and all that sappy crap

-But keep it up and you will have a very cranky boyfriend to deal with for the rest of the month

-He can be such an ass at times if he’s in a bad mood

-“I should tape your mouth shut.”

-“Kinky-“

-“Shut up.”

-But as much as he hates being woken up by somebody else, he would much prefer waking up to your voice rather anyone else’s

-You usually wake him up in the mornings to get ready for RAD and you start giggling every time he pulls a face at you and complains that he doesn’t wanna

-“What are you? An alarm clock?”

-And then he just sort of pulls you to him and goes with a completely straight face:

-“You’re annoying but you can be my alarm clock if you want to.”

-He’s either flirting or is so sleepy he’s being unusually soft hELP

—————————-

Thank you for reading! And for all the reblogs and follows. You guys don’t even know how much I appreciate your support. Especially at times when I’m not as motivated to write and now that the fandom has fizzled out a bit.

Also imma have to make a master list soon or something

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me mc #🌸 comfort #⭐️ requests #☂️ demon brothers #💞 protective bois

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jawllines · 4 years ago

Text

He’s too far in thought, he realizes, when Ellie comes and waves her hand in his face, “Are you okay?” She asks quietly, eyes wide as saucers, “Maisey said you look like her aunt when she zones out and she’s depressed.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, one that expels the air from his lungs as he nods, “Yes, Ellie, I’m okay. What’ve you painted, hm? Can I see it?” She grins, her cheeks pudgy and rosy as she runs back to her seat and picks up the canvas she’d been working on. It’s a sun and a moon, both with rather cryptic looking faces on them, and Harry had never so perfectly had to manage his poker face, “Whoa!”

“I think that might just be the coolest thing I’ve seen in my entire life,” Y/N appears behind him, Oliver more or less clung to her pant leg as she’s reaching over his body to set a box of juice down on the oak table for him to disperse among his campers, while holding her hand out for the canvas, “May I see it, Miss. Ellie Bellie?”

Ellie smiles shyly at her — she always got so shy around Y/N, but never in the way where you would think she’s nervous. No, she gets shy the way you might when meeting an older sibling’s friend and wanting to desperately try to impress them. Harry knew as much, considering he would attempt to perform for each and every single one of his sister’s friends growing up (and each time, Gemma would make a few colorful threats to deter him). No matter how quiet Ellie gets with her though, she’s always the first to ask if they got to play with Y/N that day.

Harry still doesn’t like the other camp counsellors but Y/N’s an exception

part 1

(tw: mentions of suicide)

ii.

Psst.

Harry was typically a heavy sleeper. When he was younger his mum used to joke that he could sleep through an earthquake-induced tsunami if someone allowed him to. An alarm would have to be pretty loud to stir him from his slumber, and unless he was on edge, a mere call of his name would not drag him from whatever dreamland he’d submerged himself within.

Psst.

There had only been two things before that could notably wake him. His mum, who was the sweetest person on this planet yet managed to be the cruelest being on earth when he needed to be up for something, and his childhood cat Molly, who sits on his chest and makes it hard to breathe (which, from what he’s learned, encourages his brain to panic and wake him up so he could fix it). Other than that, he was blissfully unaware of the world for hours at a time.

Yet, there was something stirring him now. A low sound that puzzles him as he toes the line between consciousness and his dreams, aware of the blankets that cover him but still dancing on a stage with his limbs thrashing wildly and people shouting his name.

Psst.

Was it an insect? Maybe he was performing outside then -- a crowd of thousands in an outdoor field to see him for... .what was it that he did again?

Psst.

Oh, he’s dreaming, isn’t he? How deep in his dream is he? He thinks this is the first time he’s ever been asleep and realized that he was asleep...he could probably conjure something up, right? Manifest something that he’s always wanted, try his hand in lucid dreaming. If only he could focus apart from the insect zipping past his eardrum.

Harry, please wake up, we’re being haunted -- or murdered, or something.

Harry’s eyelids flutter like swallowtail wings, his gaze blurry and unfocused as he comes to. He’s confused, piecing together the puzzle that always presents to him when he’s just woken up and has to readjust to the world around him. The whole process of it took nothing more than 10 seconds, maybe 15 if he’s really out of it, but that’s only because thoughts run through his mind at a hundred miles a minute.

What time is it? The room around him his pitch-black apart from a very small amount of light illuminating beneath the curtain covering the window he’s beneath, so it couldn’t be morning. Potentially early morning, but he would say that would be 3-4 AM. Did he need to be up? He didn’t think so, actually, because there’s no alarm buzzing him awake and as far as he’s concerned, he hadn’t signed up for any early morning shifts at the bookstore as of late. The last time he went in at 5 to open up shop while the owner was on vacation and Harry was more or less ran down by a mother raccoon when he’d stumbled upon her babies after getting out of his car -- Harry had been reluctant to go before sunrise since.

Where was he? He knows he’s not at home, that’s for sure. The sheets smell like him but not him enough to be at his own place -- and the bedding isn’t as soft either. He knows he hasn’t passed out at someone’s house because he only does that if the person is close enough to him that he would recognize their scent, or if he was too drunk to get home, but that was usually accompanied by a wicked headache and a sour stomach. No, where he was smelled like wood and generic fabric softener. There was an air conditioning unit that rattled and rumbled from where it was fixed to the wall, he felt a tension in his neck that he only experienced at one place and, yeah, he was at the camp.

He was at camp, in a cabin with Y/N, who slept with the lamp on because she hated the dark, was the owner of the voice that had woken him up in the inky black room.

“Hm?” He hums, brows pinching as he lets his eyes shut again, only to open them a few seconds later, “Wha’s wrong? Why is your light off?”

“I don’t know,” her voice is still just a bit over a whisper, and Harry wonders why she doesn’t just speak up now that she knows he’s awake, “I woke up a little bit ago and thought maybe there was a storm that knocked the power out or something, but I checked the weather and it’s been clear skies all night. I think our power line was cut which is like -- straight out of a horror film.”

Harry sighs, a bit of him regretting the number of horror movies they’ve been watching once they finally got to watch Midsommar (in three days, they’d sifted through six different movies -- two movies a night and each one managed to horrify Y/N more than the last). He begins to press himself from the bed, his eyes adjusting to the dark around them, making out slivers of shadows, “I’ll go check --”

“No! Are you crazy?” He hears her bed frameshift with her as she moves, “That’s just asking for a maniac to come for us. Plus I keep hearing noises and I can’t tell if it’s like...like little raccoon feet or a one-armed hook man.”

“Alright, then go back to bed.” Harry begins to lower back down to the mattress but a sharp whine leaves her throat, “It’s dark when you close your eyes.” It’s silent for a moment, but then Harry feels a bead of guilt dribble through his body. He sighs, reaching up and wiping his hand down his face, “What do you want to do, yeah? If you don’t want me to go out there. Do you want to stay up?”

She’s quiet, Harry is straying further and further from the state he would’ve been in to fall right back into his dreams but he tries to wipe away the irritation the best he could. What he reminds himself is that four days prior, Y/N had trekked out in the forest toward a lake despite her unremitting distaste for the woods in the dark and slapped Jack clean across the face because he was being rude to him. And he was going to ignore her? Fall asleep while she’s frightened? Harry could be a prick, but he wasn’t the bleeding antichrist.

“I...um, well, I don’t want us to stay up, no, we’ll be so cranky tomorrow,” she shuffles in the sheets, “I dunno’, I’m sorry, you can go back to bed, I’ll be okay.”

Harry isn’t sure what to do but in his half-awake state, the next few words that leave his mouth seem like just the temporary fix necessary for them to get the last few hours of sleep that they can, “Do you want me to read you a story or summat?”

She giggles quietly, “No, it’s okay, really, go back to sleep, okay?”

What Harry could have said was I can’t now, knowing that you’re awake and scared, but instead he utters a simple, “No.” He sits back up, patting blindly for his phone in his sheets, slipping his fingers around it, and tapping it awake. His screen blinds him with its brightness, so he lowers it before finding the flashlight. It lights up the floor at his feet and subsequently at its edges, he can make out Y/N’s shadowy figure. She’s sat up, curled in her blanket, wrapped around her head, and giving her a pseudo-nun appearance. She waves at him lamely and he struggles not to roll his eyes, “Maniac be damned, I’m gonna go out there and look for the breaker. Maybe the arseholes broke their vow of integrity.”

He wouldn’t be surprised if Jack or one of the others came around and switched the breaker off, just to be inconvenient for the morning. They’d left them alone for four days sure, but Harry figures that it’s not so much four days of silent reflection and questioning why they feel the need to be such pricks to him, and more so four days for their anger to fester and brew. If not for the fact that Y/N slapped him then made him find laundry detergent and commanded the others to go get his clothes, then for the way she acted like nothing had happened the day prior. Jack’s cheek was still a stingy, red splotch, Oliver and Brandon were straight-faced looking irritated, and Y/N -- well, Y/N had never been more content with her day. She was having a blast with her kids playing bean bag toss, they did their little dance when one of them got it in the hole of the board, and when they were all getting drinks, Y/N offered to grab Harry his. He watched as she went to the cooler around the same time Jack did, they both reached for the last Dr. Pepper, and Y/N plucked it up and handed it to him before grabbing both her, Harry, and Mitch’s lemonades.

He thinks it’s the sincerity that she holds, that would aggravate him had he been in their shoes. Y/N was completely unbothered by the night prior and Harry could tell, just like when he doesn’t reciprocate their maleficent tendencies towards them -- it was digging under their skin.

(She makes Harry laugh when she comes back with their lemonades, handing him one and uttering, “I let the prick have the last Dr. Pepper, and I’m regretting it.”)

And while he’s hoping that they haven’t turned their target to her out of spite, he wouldn’t change what had happened for the world. It had made the two of them that much closer, and in the following day’s Harry had poked and prodded Y/N’s brain a bit more. Especially after what he’d seen on her page, he was intrigued by her. Intrigued by how she saw life, why she came at things the way she did, what built her up to be the person that she was in these very moments that he’s speaking to her. Harry hasn’t asked her about her old college roommate and he doesn’t plan on it either -- he doesn’t feel like he could, or he should.

Harry has lost people before and he thinks the worst thing someone could do was to bring it up unprompted. He knows that it’s probably always on her mind but even then, maybe it isn’t at the forefront of it. Maybe she’s just trying to have a good few weeks, separate herself from the real world for a while, and he would be cruel to dig up something that she may not be ready to just up and chat about. No matter how curious he is about the whole situation, and no matter how much he wonders if she treats him the way she does because of what happened. If the topic was brought up by her he would openly and freely discuss it as long as she was comfortable, but he wouldn’t give her the third degree.

So he minds his business and focuses on trying to get to know her better instead.

He can’t say that it doesn’t change how he treats her a bit though. Harry is much. . .gentler, than he had been. He tries to be less critical of her unwavering optimism and seeks to understand where it was coming from instead. If he’s in the right mood he’ll attempt to match it, which makes for a good day with their groups, who he finds -- despite the small age gap -- have begun to kindle very close friendships. Mrs. Graham had even commented on it one of the days after they had a riveting game of balloon tennis.

“You two make a good team -- putting all these other counselors to shame. And to think you were pouty about having to share a cabin.”

It was true, they did make a good team. Harry thinks that them sparking a friendship had made the whole experience much more enjoyable for everyone involved.

All of this together gives insight into why Harry is willing to stuff on his shoes at 3 AM and go out in the dark, muggy night to check and potentially fix a breaker. And no matter the number of times he assures her she does not have to come out there with him, she keeps hold of her ‘no man left behind’ mentality, pulls on a pair of flip flops, and pads out after him.

Had they been in any other cabin, finding the breaker would have been much easier. They’re typically on the backside in the upper right corner, surrounded by a little cage with a lock similar to that of an animal crate. The struggle with their cabin was that the backside was basically in the woods, so he had to dodge low hanging branches and tangles of ivy to get even remotely near it. He hands Y/N his phone and she shines the light over the metal box, her hand steady despite how she looks back and forth and all around them like she’s making sure there are no red eyes glowing at them. The world around them is silent apart from the chirp and groan of insects, the scutter of an animal somewhere in the far distance makes Y/N huff a weary sigh but otherwise, nothing comes out to attack them. Harry restarts the breaker, they go back inside, and the lamp on its dimmest setting is switched on how they had fallen asleep with it.

They both breath out in relief, Y/N dives back into her bed and Harry flops down atop of his covers, giving himself a second to feel the cool air from the conditioner fan over him.

“Theoretically,” Y/N begins as Harry lets his eyes fall shut, “If there were some creature in the forest --”

“There’s no creature in the forest.”

“I know, but theoretically --” She continues again, but Harry is quick to cut her off once more.

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he tells her, “Go to sleep.”

Once more, Y/N falls silent, but a quiet, “Thank you,” was the only thing to leave her mouth.

. . .

A summer thunderstorm wasn’t abnormal during camp, which is why the recreation center and the art building are beneficial. It keeps everyone preoccupied and entertained with well-insulated walls to mute whatever carnage is taking place outside, which makes for less frightened children and an easier time for everyone involved. Harry liked being active and running around with his campers, sure, but he also really enjoyed a nice, calm, relaxing day trying his hand at DIY projects and abstract paintings. Plus it gave him the chance to wear the camp hoodie that he had spent a pretty penny purchasing, which was made of the softest fabric he’s ever felt and was far more comfortable than the t-shirts that they normally wear.

Y/N had also bought the hoodie, Harry saw as she stepped out in it after her shower this morning, and she seemed to be drowning in it but in the best way. The fabric pools off of her, but she looks cozy, and well-rested despite them waking in the middle of the night. He thinks she looks pretty cute, but he kept the thought to himself and instead asked her if she wanted his extra granola bar for breakfast.

They alternate throughout the day, between the rec center and art building, and on the schedule, it appears that most the day he would be with Y/N’s group (which he prefers) and a few times he’s even with Mitch as well, which is nice. Mitch doesn’t grow to like many people, but he liked Y/N well enough -- he thought she was oddly entertaining (or so he’s told, Harry) and good for a chat. The only times he and Y/N were not with each other were when the activities were age-specific, but even then, it wasn’t like anyone was in a different room. They were all just at different stations within a big room in the art building and the recreation center was more or less free for all.

Harry wondered when he started basing whether or not a day was going to be good by whether or not he and Y/N were able to be around each other, but he decided not to think about it too much. Lately, he’d been a little more on edge with whether they were together, simply because of Jack and the others. He didn’t want them fucking with her, and even though she’d proven that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, he still worried, especially knowing he would be the cause of it.

Y/N doesn’t seem the least bit distressed about it, or as far as she was letting on -- she’d not expressed any thoughts or concerns that they would be spiteful towards her. Hell, the only thing she had told him the night after was that she hoped she didn’t make things worse for him. For him. Why was she so willing to defend him? What did she get out of being so kind?

“I especially like how multidimensional it is — purple and pink stars? Beautiful, I love those two colors together,” she places her hand on Oliver’s head, and it’s then that Harry notices he’s holding something, “Harry, Oliver here wanted you to see the flower he drew because I told him how much you like lilies.” As bashful as he always is, he holds out the paper toward Harry. It was cute — a singular, yellow lily and he could tell that Y/N helped him draw it, but the paint and crayon marks all over the page suggested she left the color duties up to him.

“Oh my goodness,” Harry gasps, looking at the painting, flipping it to Oliver and pointing at it, “You did this?” Oliver nodded excitedly, “It’s gorgeous.”

“I think our groups are the best artists,” Y/N motions to her table, only a meter away from them all working diligently on their projects, “Charlotte is over there doing an artistic interpretation of the both of us, we are not allowed to see it until she’s finished. Mikey is doing his own rendition of Disney world, I see Maisey is creating a beautiful tree -- Noah is that a cowboy you’re drawing?”

Noah barely looks up from his paper, very carefully dragging the tip of the marker in a circle, “Yes.”

“And Noah is drawing a cowboy! Modern-day Van Gogh’s, all of them.” Harry smiles as Y/N drags a stool up beside him, positioning it in a way so that she could watch both her kids and speak with him, “I heard they’re having one of them party things tonight, I didn’t know if you wanted to go or not.”

“Hm, I dunno,” his brows knit together as he lightly scratches a mosquito bite on the inside of his forearm, “Do you feel comfortable with going after what happened last time?”

She suckles her bottom lip into her mouth, gnawing on it as she nods her head, “Mhm,” she looks around them for a second, making sure that none of the kids are paying attention to them before she lowers her voice, “Mitch said that you used to go to all of them last year, and would like -- have a good time. I hope that I’m not ruining that for you.”

“How would you be ruining it for me?” It’s true, Harry hasn’t gone to any of the parties that they’ve been doing since the very first one he’d escorted Y/N away from. Not for any other reason apart from he was just spending time and hanging out with Y/N, or he’d be too knackered to even think about leaving the nice, cool setting of their cabin to be in the muggy heat with drunk college students. He had much more fun not attending, and other nights Mitch would come around and chill with them too. . .he had all he needed then. Didn’t need the booze for a good time.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t know if you weren’t going ‘cos of what happened the first time and you felt like you couldn’t leave me out or. . or something like that.”

Harry shook his head, “No,” he answers, “We can go tonight if you would like, but it’s unnecessary for me. I’m good either way.”

Although Y/N appears unconvinced, they have little time to go further into the topic because Charlotte is running up to them, a big grin on her face, “I finished!”

“Well give it here,” Harry holds out his hand, waving her over, “Let’s see it.”

On the paper are stick figure versions of he and Y/N, with big grins and 12 other little stick figures surrounding them. Above Harry’s stick figure, there’s a pink arrow and a very five-year-old esque writing of HUSBAD (Harry presumes it’s supposed to be husband), and above Y/N’s in the same fashion, she’s written WYFE. It’s then Harry realizes that Y/N’s figure has a veil on and Harry’s has a bowtie, “This is for you twos wedding! So thens when they take pictures you can has this one.” Charlotte chirps brightly and Y/N and Harry both cast each other a disbelieving glance.

“Whoaaaaa,” Y/N is the first to break their silence, a smile pulling at her lips, “This is really good Charlotte! I didn’t know Harry and I were getting married, though.”

Charlotte nods quickly, still grinning at them, her bottom canine missing as she gleams, “Me n’ Mikey thinks you should!”

Y/N turns toward him, nodding toward Charlotte, “Well, the god’s have spoken. Where’s my ring?”

Harry coughs on a laugh as he hands the paper back to Charlotte, “This is really good, Bug. Why don’t you and Oliver go help Josie finish her coloring pages, hm?”

The both of them head the short way back to their table, hiking up on the small stools and Harry makes sure they’re all settled before he turned back to face Y/N, who was biting down on a grin, “Don’t start --” he began but she’s already started, shaking her head.

“Listen, it’s okay to be in love with me, but you should really try to tone it down. . .the kids are starting to notice.”

Harry scoffs before he proceeds to tease her,, “How d’ya know they aren’t basing it off your actions, huh? Giving me love eyes every couple minutes like nobody would see.”

Y/N mocks offense to his words and he tries to keep up the facade, but his sheer delight for getting in a teasing match with her overcomes him and he can’t help his smile. Harry loved teasing people -- loved making them flustered or reducing them to a bashful mess by his words alone. Y/N, however, was much less into flustered gazes and sheepish tendencies, and more so ready and willing to give him it right back. He’d met his match -- if he teases her she’s teasing right back (if she hadn’t started it in the first place), and both of them found mutual pleasure in it.

“You can’t use my love eyes against me, I can’t help but give them to everyone I’ve ever met” she tells him, feigning sincerity before an additional anecdote, “You know my college roomie always told me they’d get me in trouble one day, and she had never been more right, ‘cos they did once at a party. She wouldn’t shut up about it weeks after it’d happened.”

Harry feels his body tense just a bit at the mention of her, and he tries not to let it show on his face that he’s surprised how she so casually brought her up, “Yeah? What’s the story?”

“The little ears around us suggest that I tell that story later,” she checks her watch, before looking back up at him, “Oi, we’ve got five minutes until we’re in the rec center. You get to pick what we all do since I picked the last rotation.”

. . .

This time when they’re on their way to the party, Harry lets Y/N walk in front of him as he directs where she was to go. Opposed to when they had first made this journey together, Harry feels far more protective of her than he originally had. Plus, he’d seen how clumsy she could be and after the earlier storm, the softened dirt and broken off tree branches from the billows of wind made for a much harder terrain to navigate, so he felt more comfortable being able to reach out to catch her if need be.

Harry was wary of going to the party tonight but Y/N had been borderline insistent that they attend, “Mitch says he misses you at these things and Niall told me he could only stand Shaun theorizing about the universe and us not being the only life form so many times before he snaps. I say we’re needed.” Harry never minded free drinks, and a potential fuck at the end of the night, so he wasn’t all too worried that he would be having a good time. He just hoped that the others would allow Y/N to have a good time. And he knows he’s being paranoid, because they hadn’t necessarily targeted her for anything prior to or after the lake incident, but he still worries. . .he can’t help but worry.

But he wouldn’t hover. Once they got to the clearing, he helped Y/N get her drink and she sought off after Niall while Harry went over to Mitch, the two of them promising to meet up again in a little bit. He didn’t hover, but he did watch semi-closely, eyeballing Jack and the others, making sure they were staying away from her. Apart from a few less than friendly looks thrown in his direction though, they seemed to be keeping to themselves which Harry was ultimately very thankful for.

The night goes by as these nights usually do -- he and Mitch drank, had a laugh, gabbed about music for a while, some of the drama going on around the camp (Y/N had an ear for gossip and eyes that could make anyone tell her anything, so Harry’s had a door to all the melodramatic events happening throughout the counsellors). It was a bit weird when Stacey -- one of the counsellors he’d only ever briefly spoken to -- had come up to them, and a little weirder when she borderline propositioned him for something more than a chat in the woods, but Harry politely declined. Told her that he was pretty exhausted after a long day and was probably just going to have a few more beers and retreat back to his cabin.

He passes it off as a fluke. . .maybe he’d been making eyes at her and hadn’t realized it. But then Mia makes her way toward him and Mitch, and this time Harry’s brows furrow when she starts chatting him up. This one he entertains for a little while before eventually ebbs away from the conversation, because he and Mia had a fling once, but Jack convinced her and the free world that he was a prick, so she called it off. He didn’t necessarily understand why she would want to start that up again, or what “little birdie” put a bug in her ear that he still thought about her (as she said one did).

It was after Cara had finally left after coming around to chat with him, that Mitch began to chuckle lowly at his side, shaking his head slowly, “Jesus Christ,” he tilts the nozzle of his beer against his mouth, and when he pulls it away, his lips are shiny from the liquid, “She really is working hard.”

“Huh?” Harry feels desperate for an explanation as to why three times he felt as if he were being propositioned for a romp in the woods when he was not actively pursuing one. He had a feeling that it was the others trying to get him alone so they could enact some sort of piss poor attempt at fucking with him without Y/N spotting and tearing them a new one over it, “Are you in on something that I’m not, ‘cos m’feeling pretty fucking lost here, man.”

Mitch nods his head, and Harry follows his gaze to Y/N, who is speaking with her brows dipped inward to Cara, “A few days ago she’d been asking me and Niall what you were like last year, and we told her just the same, jus’ a lot more ‘fornication’ is how Niall put it,” he smirks softly with a shake of his head, “And she seemed all concerned, asking us if we thought she was holdin’ you back or something. Personally, I told her if you wanted to sleep with someone you would have whether she were around or not but she didn’t seem very convinced.” A snort leaves him as he motions towards her again, still as amused by her ideas as he had been when she’d first explained them, “Guess she’s trying to set you up.”

“Oh fuck me,” he exhales so forcefully, it whips the delicate plumes of smoke from Mitch’s cigarette into a misshapen huff. Why was she so concerned with it? Harry hadn’t once expressed any avidity in needing to spend time with someone in that manner -- he could go without sex for three weeks. . .did she not think he could? Was he exuding nymphomaniac tendencies? He surely hadn’t thought he was -- a few quick handies in his nightly showers typically tide him over just nicely for a bit of a dry spell. And what was her business that he hadn’t slept with anyone since they’ve gotten here? Why was she speaking about him with the others what she could as easily ask him? What she had as easily spoken with him about, albeit leaving out a pretty large portion of it.

For the first time since they had begun getting along, Harry was irritated with her. He’d never been one to brood, however. He liked things to be up front and honest as soon as possible if the situation allowed for it, to stop his mind from taking an idea and running away with it. He held little interest in playing mind games with people.

Which is why he hands Mitch the rest of his drink, fixes his heavy cardigan around his shoulder, and sets off in her direction. He dodges many bodies, avoids an empty cup on the ground beside what he could only presume to be a sticky puddle of liquor, and narrowly makes it past a playful fight between Oliver and Brandon who were wrestling one another. Y/N doesn’t realize that he’s making his way to her until he’s just a meter or so away, when Niall catches a glimpse of him and attempts to be inconspicuous in the way he pinches her side. She gasps from the way his nails had accidentally bit into her skin, flinching from the pain before her gaze had settled on him, “Harry!” She cheered but his face doesn’t soften as it usually does when they see one another, which alerts her to his disapproving gaze, “Oh, what’s wrong?”

“Can I speak with you for a moment?” He inquires, motioning out past the trees. Enough trust had been built into the foundation of their friendship for her to not question him. Instead, she passes her drink off to Niall and follows Harry into the woods -- he wouldn’t go so far that they wouldn’t be able to see one another from beneath the curtain of leaves shielding away the moon, but just far enough that nobody would be eavesdropping. In any other situation he might wait to bring this up until they’ve made it back to the cabin, but Y/N’s intentions had been clear that the person he was taking home tonight wasn't supposed to be her.

She pauses with him at a particularly thick tree trunk, and places the arch of her foot against one of the jagged roots that carved its way through the earth, “Is everything okay?” She balances herself with a hand against the bark, wincing when it jabs into her skin, “I was keeping an eye on Jack n’ them I thought so they wouldn’t try messing with you, but did they say something?”

That does melt him some, Harry was strong enough to admit that. Just as he had been concerned with her wellbeing, she was just as much concerned for him, and he appreciated that. And while it does threaten to soften him down to his core, he still had questions that needed answers, and he wouldn’t let up until she responded to them.

“Why are you sending girls over to me?”

Her brows raise, but less in shock of learning the information, and more so with wonder how he’d found out she was the one sending them their way. The surprise dissolves into embarrassment quickly, her shoulders slump and she casts her gaze deeper into the forest, “Dammit,” she doesn’t hide her disappointment from being caught, or even feign confusion to try and pass the blame off coincidence that every girl who had come up to him had subsequently talked to her prior, “I was hoping you would be less observant.”

“Y/N.” He says her name sternly, and her shoulders drop dramatically further as she steps down from the tree root.

“Listen, in my defense I just felt awful!” She admits, waving her hand toward the party, “Jack had tried telling me a few times about how you just fuck people and leave them, blah, blah, blah, right? And I wasn’t paying any attention to him, but it made me curious to what you were like last year, so I asked Mitch and Niall. You came to these things all the time and you had fun -- then I come ‘round, ruin the first one, and you’ve been hanging out with me since. I just. . . I wanted you to be able to have fun and not feel like you have to worry about me, y’know?”

A ‘v’ sits between Harry’s brows, “What is it your business what I’m doing, hm?” He fixes his cardigan from where it slumps off his shoulder once more, “If I wanted to sleep with someone then I would. Do you think I can’t set something up myself?”

“No, of course not, I just thought --”

“You didn’t think,” he cuts her off, and Y/N’s arms curl over herself instinctively when a cold brush of air rolls past them, “You should have just came to speak with me about it, I could have told you that I didn’t need anything like that, and that would have been that. Don’t go behind my back trying to orchestrate things for me, okay?”

He wanted to say it -- he needed to say it, because Harry wasn’t some sex driven lecher that everyone at this camp tried to make him out as. He thought Y/N had known that too, but he guesses he was wrong.

But he wasn’t expecting her to look so fucking defeated by it. A guilt weighs on his being when she nods, tipping her head down, “Okay, yes, I won’t anymore. I’m sorry,” her fingers dig into her bicep, as she breathes out, a shiver rattles through her that she tries to be inconspicuous about it, “I wasn’t thinking -- I wasn’t thinking how it would look.”

Harry sighs, peeling his cardigan off of his arms, revealing his bare arms to the chill but he ignores it in favor of holding it out to her, “Put this on,” he wiggles it some, “I know you’re cold.” She takes it from him carefully, looking up, brows raised slightly as if to ask if he’s sure, “Go ahead.”

“I really am sorry,” she tells him, pulling the patchwork cardigan over her arms, it hangs off of her, and Harry swallowed thickly. She’s. . .cute -- Harry had always been able to admit that. Her face is sweet, her eyes exudes nothing but understanding, kindness, and such a soft glow that Harry couldn’t quite explain. He finds that those eyes give him great comfort and warmth, because now when they’re tinged with the contrition she feels and Harry feels cold.

“I know,” he murmurs, he holds out his hand for her, and very carefully Y/N slides her hand into his own, “Do you want to go get pudding?”

A small smile pulls at her mouth.

“Yes please.”

. . .

Niall lets them use the key after a few dozen promises to be careful with it. They trek the familiar way, mindless chatter fills the air around them until they get to the cafeteria and their voices quiet in case the security guard is looping around. Y/N reveals her hand from the shield of his cardigan sleeve, Harry watches as the fabric pools around her arm, toward her elbow, and produces the key (that Niall only trusted her with). They creeped into the kitchen, pulled open the large refrigerator door, and the pudding sat in rows on the bottom shelf.

They both choose vanilla this time, having tired themselves out on chocolate, and they sit at the spot they had last time, across from one another. He can tell, despite his peace offering, that Y/N still feels upset about what had happened earlier and it sullies his mood. She’s still chatting but not with as much heart as she typically has, and Harry couldn’t stand it. He just wanted her to giggle as she teases him again, without feeling like she’s tip toeing on eggshells around him.

“Hey,” Harry starts, dragging her attention towards him where it had previously been scooping the sides of her pudding container, “Would you stop being so. . .tense? Is this about earlier?”

Y/N clears her throat, opening her mouth and furrowing her brows like she was about to deny it, but she relents, shoulders dropping, “A little. I still feel bad about everything,” she shakes her head, dragging the edge of the spoon around the plastic, “About everything, not just that you aren’t able to sleep with someone. I came in late, ruined you having your own cabin, woke you up with my alarm, made you get out of bed ‘cos I’m afraid of the dark and -- I just feel like this massive burden. I feel like this massive burden on everyone.”

Harry is alarmed by this sudden confession, but his body ultimately rejects the notion that she could ever be a bother, “How are you a burden to anyone?” He inquires, shaking his head, “You’re such a ball of light that just swarms through rooms. The thought of you being a burden is akin to the thought of Satan being a saint. . .it doesn’t sound right.” Harry sets his pudding down, though he keeps his hands fixed around the cup and the spoon, “Don’t know what gave you that idea, but the last thing you are is a burden. Who gave you the impression that you were?”

She wipes tiredly at her eyes, “Nobody in particular, it's just,” she shakes her head, “Even now, I wanted to make your night good, and then I fucked it, and now you’re here with me instead of having fun at the party. I just feel silly.”

“Don’t.” Harry tells her simply, “I like to spend time with you, and I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

The tension in her shoulder releases, “Thank you for this, I’m sorry m’just saying the same thing again and again. Back at home it feels like everyone is just. . .so hyper aware of me -- they’re always being so careful, or overly concerned and I always wonder if it feels like a heavy weight on their shoulders, like I’m forcing a piggyback ride.” She shrugs her own, reaching for the second pudding cup, “It’s just shit, so I overthink everything all the time to try not to be a burden, but I keep making it worse. Or at least that’s how it feels.”

Harry tilts his head to the side some. He’s not usually someone who pries and probes people for information, but he’s never been more curious about Y/N than in this moment. When he thinks of Y/N at home, he thinks of sunshine pooling in the hallways through casement windows, her spinning around the kitchen in a dainty floral dress that billows around her as she stirs homemade jam. Harry imagines her amongst woodland creatures who coax her to the forest with songs, escorting her there as she gambols freely.

He could not imagine her going home and feeling like a burden. Hell, he would have thought that she considered everyone else a burden -- that maybe it was draining to be the absolute light of everyone’s life. Yet here she stood, seeming worn, and broken.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why is everyone hyper aware of you at home? You don’t have to answer if you’re uncomfortable.” He says it delicately -- he means it. . .if she didn’t want to share this with him, then he wouldn’t force her, but he wants to open up the possibility. He wants her to know that he’s an open ear if she so chose to utilize him.

“Um,” her gaze does shift downward -- she suddenly appears so small, “Are you sure?”

Harry nods.

“I just -- it's not that I don’t like bringing it up, I just don’t want you to treat me any differently than you would knowing it, yeah? I think that’s what I hate the most.” She notes, “So do you promise that you won’t -- you won’t start tiptoeing around me?”

“You’ve got my word.” Harry vows, but he has a feeling he knows what she is to say.

The sleeve of his cardigan covers her hand as she brushes the hair from her face, “In freshman year of UNI, my roommate was Mrs. Graham’s daughter, Penelope.” She straightens out in her seat, “We didn’t like each other much at first but we had grown very close -- um, once she threw away my fruit snacks and so I dunked her toothbrush in the toilet, but I felt guilty and went out to buy her a new toothbrush,” a laugh leaves her at the memory, as she rolls her eyes at herself, “That was what we had going for a while, but a late night heart to heart kind of made us closer. She told me things that. . .she’d been through a lot that nobody should have to go through, you know? She was bullied a lot growing up—in high school it was bad, people used to always gang up on her over stupid shit.” Harry hums, encouraging her to continue, and she stirs the pudding around mindlessly, “And we were just close after that. We had a flat together sophomore year and most of junior year, she’s my best friend,” she swallows thickly, “I didn’t realize how sad she was. . .I didn’t realize what she was still holding onto, and she -- we went home for Christmas break, and she never came back.”

Harry feels his stomach sour as her eyes bead with unshed tears, “Oh, Y/N,”

“It’s alright. I’m okay, I’m fine as I can be -- I’ve -- I’m mourning and I miss her, but I’m trying to be strong. Most days I am, but everyone at home just expects me to be this fragile thing, y’know? The days I’m happy, and chatty, they think I’m faking it. And some days I do, yeah, but. . .it’s just disheartening when everyone pretends to know what’s going on in my head.” She plants the pudding directly in the center, leaving it there and retreating her hands to her lap, “Mrs. Graham told me she felt the same. That’s why I came in last minute -- I’ve got all my volunteer hours settled and everything but she said it might be nice to get away.” A slow, easy sigh leaves her lips as she blinks the tears away, not one drop trickled down her cheek, “It is nice, but I still worry that I’m a strain on people around me, even if not for the reason I am at home. And I’m sorry to like, info dump all this on you,” she laughs a little in spite of herself, “You can’t ask me things, unless you want an hour long explanation.”

Harry reaches out his hand for her, for the second time that night, and once again she slowly slips their fingers together, “Thank you for sharing that with me, I know it must have been hard,” he squeezes her hand, “But I understand you a bit more now. I’ll keep my promise, I won’t treat you any differently, but before that --” she blinks at him, waiting, “I think you might just be one of the kindest, strongest, most caring people that I have ever meant. I know you would never do anything to intentionally hurt me or add stress onto my life, so you don’t have to worry about that. You don’t have to try with me. We can just exist together, yeah? We’ll exist without burdens and without worry.”

The look in her eyes, was one that Harry had never seen before. One that makes him melt in her touch.

“I would like that.”

. . .

“I can’t swim.”

Harry was crouched down to Maisey’s height, fixing purple mermaid floaties around her arms. The day was not unusually muggy, but there was an additional itch to jump belly first into the cool watered lake. He had woken with a revitalized need to pry a star from the morning sky as it shifted from an inky purple to an early, dusky morning blue -- and give it to Y/N. He had decided after their conversation last night -- after they’d gone to bed and Y/N fell asleep cuddled in his cardigan -- he had an overwhelming, and an all encompassing want to hold her.

Which made it hard to part ways this morning, but he managed. And maybe he played out an image in his head where he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek before they went to wake their respective cabins, or maybe he didn’t (but if he did that’s his own problem). He is quick to convince himself it was because she’d shared a piece of herself with him that he doesn’t think she lets many people see, and Harry always develops a bit of a platonic crush on his friends at some point or another. He questioned whether or not he was in love with Mitch for a solid four days once. . .sometimes he just let his heart get carried away.

He had been enmeshed in these thoughts as he got his campers ready for their time in the lake. At first glance, a ton of children in the lake seemed like a horrible, and faulty idea, but they took precautions so that everyone was safe. Every child wore floaties and/or life jackets no matter how proficient their swimming abilities. There was netting about ten meters out so that the children and counsellors couldn’t float out toward the middle, and they worked it so that only three children could be in per counsellor at a time, so that they could keep an eye on everyone. Harry wasn’t so nervous because he was a strong swimmer, and his kids were a little older, but he could tell Y/N had been a little jittery about it. It’s why Harry told her that while she was out in the lake with her little ones to let him know, he would come out with her to bring her some additional comfort that even the floaties could not provide.

Harry had been pretty sure all of his kids were excited to go to the lake and he was grateful for that, until he looked up to see the nervous, large blue eyes of Jackson, downcast after he had spoken the words. The unprompted admittance confused him as he turned to face him, “That’s okay, buddy, we’ve got floaties for that.”

Jackson did not seem convinced, shaking his head fiercely, “No, I -- I can’t swim.”

“J.J. is afraid of the water,” Noah exposes the truth just as easy as he takes a sip from his juice box, equipped with his own blue arm floaties, “He didn’t want to say though ‘cos --”

“Noah!” Jackson cuts him off, betrayal laced within his features.

“--’cos he didn’t want to seem like a wimp, but he almost drowned when he was little.”

Jackson looked as if he could cry, and Harry shook his head quickly, “Hey, hey, hey, c’mere buddy,” he motions him over, and he comes easily, stepping before Harry who had not bothered to leave his already crouched position, “Explain to me what’s going on, yeah?”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, a frown prevalent on his mouth, even as he speaks, “When I was little little, my big brother pushed me into the pool and I went under the water and my mom had to come in and get me because I can’t swim good.”

Harry pulls his lips back, reaching out to squeeze Jackson’s shoulder, “I’m sorry to hear that buddy. I won’t force you to get in the water if you don’t want to, but I do want to tell you that if you feel more comfortable, we could try a life jacket instead of the floaties? It’ll keep you more buoyant -- more bouncy in the water.”

“Aren’t those for little kids?” Jackson inquires, brows pinched, but Harry shakes his head and points toward Y/N, never more glad in that moment that she had the age group she did, along with her views on not making them do, wear, or say anything that she wouldn’t herself. She’s got the life jacket swung around her arm as she clips Oliver into his own.

“Y/N’s going to wear one too, and she’s not a little kid. I’ll wear one as well if you’d like.” He promised him. Albeit looking reserved, Jackson nods softly with his hands in little fists, worrying his lip between his teeth. The poor thing, Harry thinks -- he used to be afraid of water too. Nobody wants to conquer that fear suddenly, let alone with a group of people that may or may not poke fun because they’re kids and kids are jerks sometimes.

Harry finds him a life jacket -- a cute one with a shark on it, that he helps him clip on, and fits it to his body with the straps. Next, he needed to find one for himself, but he wasn’t entirely sure where they kept the counsellor life jackets, so he called for Y/N where she’d been a few meters away and she popped her head up from where she was like a meerkat. Her eyes softened when she realized who had called her, and a gentle smile pulled at her mouth, “Hey hubby,” she greets him, much to the delight of Charlotte, who claps giddily, “What d’ya need?”

“A life jacket, please. Where’d you get yours?” Harry tries to be decent -- tries desperately to keep his eyes to himself, but he finds that this is surprisingly difficult when Y/N is in her swimsuit. It wasn’t obscene in any sense of the word -- in the pamphlet they get when they sign up, it is very clear that speedos and bikinis were not appropriate, and therefore not allowed. If a child couldn’t wear it, then you shouldn’t bring it -- was the apothegm that they chose to live by in reference to dress code.

This, however, doesn’t mean that Y/N’s swimsuit didn’t suit her well. It was fitted in a way that wasn’t too tight, yet wasn’t too loose -- like it might have just been made with her in mind. A simple one piece of nylon and lycra colored a powder blue, that barely showed off that much more of what she wears to bed, and yet his mind still flutters elsewhere. To unwise places, that he drags himself from before clearing his throat and forcing himself to look around the lake so it appeared his eyes were just scanning everything.

“You’re in luck,” Y/N jogged the short way from where they stood, back to where her kids were all gathered, playing happily in the sand. Beneath what Harry had assumed was just a cluster of towels, another life jacket was hidden beneath the fabric. She hands it toward him with a triumphant grin, “This was the last one. I grabbed it for you in case you just wanted to float rather than keep your legs kicking -- you had a big lunch, didn’t want you to get a cramp.”

Harry hates how his heart balloons in his chest. There was no reason to be a melt because she had thought of him -- that she had him in mind, so she snatched the last life jacket, and hid it beneath towels so nobody else could have it. No reason to feel all mushy from the way that she unfolds it for him, a silent prompt that she’s going to help him pull it on. And there was certainly, absolutely no good reason for how stupidly affectionate he feels when she strokes her finger along the heart tattoo on his forearm mindlessly, before murmuring, “You make me wanna get covered in them. Maybe I’ll just go and get all of yours.” She looks down at the ground, “Maybe not the toe, my feet are ticklish -- think I would kick the artist.”

He recruits Y/N for the process of easing Jackson into the water -- Noah and Elinor are floating and bobbing about happily at their sides, while Charlotte and Mikey playfully kick and float close to their older counterparts (if not practically on top of them). There was a chill bite to the water when they had first stepped in, but as they walked out further and sunk a bit deeper, the cold eases up. The cool air soothes them from the sharp bite of the scorching sun, Jackson holds his hand so tightly Harry thinks his fingers may go numb, and he figures Y/N is feeling the same way, if her soft, “Loosen your grip up a bit, Sweetheart, you’re gonna take off my hand.”

Eventually, Jackson relaxes. He finally understands that the life jacket will keep him afloat and holding onto Y/N and Harry wasn’t a necessity. Once the idea of this settles in his brain, he is more willing to let go and enjoy himself. It feels wonderful to see that he’s having fun, and even better when he sees the smile on Y/N’s face from this small victory. Last year, he hadn’t felt this parental over the children last summer, but something had changed. . .something that made him feel like he was a bit of a parent.

It has to be Y/N. There was something about her that just oozes mother figure for these kids, even if she wasn’t intending to do so. She kissed the bandages over their wounds to take away the hurt, she praised the ground they walked on, picked them up if they asked, danced with them, encouraged them, treated every single child as if they were her own. Harry believes she’ll be a beautiful mother one day, if that’s what she’d like, and whoever the father or mother was she had chosen to spend her life with, they were unbelievably lucky. He just hoped they would understand that.

Y/N floats into his line of sight, “Are you okay? Ellie said you look like Maisey’s aunt again, whatever that means.”

Harry snorts, before nodding, “Yeah, I’m fine. A bit tired.”

An understanding gleam overtakes her, “Y’know, I did think you seemed a bit snoozy,” she reaches out for him, squeezing his shoulder softly, “D’ya want to have a sneaky nap? I could watch the kids.”

“But I like having you both,” Jackson whined, shaking his head quickly, finding their hands once more, reassuring that his grip was tight as ever, “Please stay.”

“Yeah,” Noah splashes over to them, sliding his arms around Harry’s neck, wetting his hair with the water clinging to his life jacket, “You two are fun together! We always have so much fun -- Brittany said her counsellor always yells at them when they ask her to play with them.”

Elinor was quick to add, “And Ro’s counsellor falls asleep during art days! He doesn’t even help them stay in the lines, and they’re little like Oli, and Charlotte.”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in the prettiest little pout -- Harry finds himself wanting to pluck it with the pad of his thumb, “That’s silly, isn’t it? I have so much fun with you guys, I couldn’t imagine not playing. Right Harry?”

Nodding his assent, he reaches up, settling his hands around Noah’s arms and bring him along with him as he kicks them closer to Y/N and the other three, “It is silly. Some people just aren’t as fun as Y/N and I, Bug, it’s proven fact. They did the scientific method and everything.”

Oliver gleefully pushes himself up on Y/N’s shoulders, flopping back into the water and bobbing, “I love yous!” He chirped brightly, “Yous guys are my favorites! I love yous.”

The sight is adorable, especially as Y/N wriggles around and holds her arms out so they could hug, which Oliver happily accepts, “I love yous too, button.”

They have fun -- for hours, as they switch out which kids are in the water, spend time on the beach with all of them, making sandcastles, burying one another, chatting and playing. It was very freeing; Harry could easily tell that he and the others were having far more fun than any of the other groups were -- Mitch and Niall had gravitated their groups closer to them when Y/N and the kids began to pour sand over the top of him. Even Cassidy came around with her kids after they had heard them all giggling and laughing and wanted to know what was going on. Harry was having fun, and maybe he was just mushy, but he credited it to the joy Y/N was exuding. It was hard not to be in a good mood when he was around her.

By the time the sun sat a little lower in the sky, casting the shadows of trees over the sand and cooling them to the point of chilling. The kids washed their feet and hands beneath the rush of water from a yard hydrant, wrapped up in towels, and headed toward the dining hall for their dinner. There was a taco bar today, and Harry found that Y/N and he had a mutual love of tacos as a whole. She showed him how she adds feta crumbles, even let him have a bite of hers to see if he would like it so he could decide whether or not to put it on his own (it was delicious, she was right).

Once dinner was finished, everyone was exhausted. They all gathered around the campfire, one of the counsellors strummed a song on his guitar, they all had s'mores and then they dispersed. Not even the rush of sugar from the chocolate and marshmallow gave any of the children an umph in their step; they were all so sluggish and slow, dragging their feet through the dirt on their way to their cabins. Harry’s group barely kept their eyes open as they stalked to the showers, washing off the lake water and sand that had been clinging to their bodies. After they brushed their teeth, they all but face planted in their beds and snores soon filled the quiet air of the cabin. They only made him realize how exhausted he was from the day spent baking in the sun, floating and kicking in the water.

He trudges back to his cabin, where he finds Y/N had already showered off. She was face down in her pillow, her back slowly rising and falling with each gentle breath she took. She hadn’t covered in her blankets -- no, instead she used his cardigan as a makeshift cover over her body, and Harry thinks it might just be the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The patchwork swallows a good portion of her body, the sleeve flopped limply by her head. . .he could imagine her crawling into bed. Could imagine her putting her knee up first, dragging the cardigan that had been lying limply over the post with her and just letting it drape over her body. She probably wasn’t thinking she would fall asleep. . .probably thought she would just lay there for a minute before gathering the strength to get beneath her covers.

It’s adorable -- Harry hates how adorable he finds it, actually. If he could crawl in beside her he would, but instead he ambles to the bathroom, starts up the shower, and climbs in.

The water his hot -- boiling drops pelt his skin, washing away the grime and sweat that felt as if it’d been caked onto his skin. It felt good; to cleanse and scrub himself free of the lake, massage shampoo into his scalp, soften his curls with the conditioner, and just allow himself to revel in the feeling. Showers feel wonderful - a renewal that he deemed necessary by the end of the day. And when he gets the temperature just right, it soothes the aches and soreness in his bones, turning his muscles to softened jello. By the time he slipped out of the shower, he was practically boneless and thought he’d be lucky if he made it to his bed before dropping to the floor and falling asleep.

He expects Y/N to still be asleep when he leaves the bathroom, but he’s surprised to find her sat up in her bed, his cardigan pooled around her body and a deep frown on her face.

“Oh!” He’s started some -- he really thought she was out for the night, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“It’s morning?” Her face further turns to that of distress and Harry bites down hard on a chuckle.

“No,” he responds, “It’s not morning. Only about 10PM, so you’ve got plenty of time to rest still.” She looks around groggily, rubbing at her cheek with one hand while she fisted his cardigan in the other, pulling it closer around her body, “Why don’t you get beneath the covers, Babe?” He asks her, and she’s quiet for a little while. The only inkling Harry receives that she even heard him was how she tries to shuffle and wriggle the covers down with her still stretched out on the bed, stuffing her legs into the blankets first, then sliding the rest of the way smoothly. All the while she clings to the cardigan, holding it tightly, resting her cheek on it. Harry doesn’t know if Y/N’s just far more affectionate than he had even thought prior, or if she was just half awake and doing things she wouldn’t do if she was fully conscious. Vaguely does he remember her saying something about typically cuddling with a teddy at night -- how she stuffs her face against it because it always smells like her fabric softener.

He wonders if that’s why she snuggles with it -- he wonders if she likes the smell of him, so she buries her nose in the fabric and breathes it in as she rests.

Harry hates this. He hates how inconceivably soft he’s been feeling, but he can’t help it. Y/N had found him worthy enough to poke inside her brain -- she opened up to him in a way she expressed she’d not been opening up to many people about. It made him feel closer to her.

But he told her he wouldn’t treat her any differently after finding out. And if he suddenly started expressing more affection, he fears she would think he was only doing it because of what she told him. He just wants to be. . .he just wants to be gentle with her. Doesn’t want her to ever think that she’s a burden to him, because the anecdote had made him question and second guess how he’d been treating her their entire time here. Of course, he was never intentionally cruel, but some of the situations he thinks about the two of them in, and how he responded, makes him cringe.

He switches off the overhead light, her dimmed bedside lamp and muscle memory guide him to his bed. Harry climbs in, shivers as he adjusts to the warmth beneath his covers, and breathes a soft sigh of relief to have finished with the day.

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice startles his eyes open, which he’d not been aware he’d closed.

“Hm?” He hums -- he had thought she’d fallen back asleep already.

“You’re okay?”

A soft smile plays at his mouth -- she asks him every night before bed, he’s noticed.

“Yes, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

She nods, “You did really good today,” her voice is muffled from her cheek mushed against his cardigan, “The kids had a lot of fun, they were telling me. I had a lot of fun too.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he reaches to thumb the hairs of his eyebrow down, “And thank you. You always do really well with the kids.”

She’s quiet for a minute, and once more, Harry thinks she must have fallen asleep, but the shift of the mattress tells him she’s changing position and Harry notices once more that his eyes have closed, “I’m glad you’re my roomie.”

Harry utters the words, that two weeks ago he thinks he would have spit at.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re my roomie too.”

. . .

Harry was drunk.

Typically, he didn’t allow himself to get very drunk at these little parties. He trusted the others so little, he had no doubt in his mind that any moment he was slightly impaired in some way they would take it upon themselves to prey on his weakness. This means he only ever gets mildly tipsy -- drinks enough to feel good but caps himself when he thinks he might start stumbling.

But he just didn’t cap himself today. Not for any reason in particular -- their day hadn’t been difficult. They helped their kids through a mildly strenuous obstacle course throughout the morning, cooled down with them drinking juice boxes and eating popsicles and by 2PM they were inside doing little DIY projects. Harry burned his finger with some hot glue, but otherwise it was a pretty easy smooth kind of day that they didn’t get often. He and Y/N hadn’t gotten to spend much time together, which he wouldn’t admit loudly was a disappointment, but he and his kids had all agreed that they missed her.

(And when they had seen her and her group walking into the art room, the lot of them had erupted in cheers, Noah, Eli, Maisey being the loudest of them.)

They had a pasta dinner that was surprisingly filling, they told “spooky” campfire stories and ate s’mores, he got his kids ready for bed and he went off to the cabin. He and Y/N were going to one of the parties tonight, not because they had such spectacular luck with a good time before, but because they were coming up on some of their last nights here at camp. It was a bittersweet feeling -- Harry remembered being more than ready to flee last year, counting down each day, each hour dragging on longer than the last. This time, it felt like it was coming too quick. He would miss the kids, he would miss the busy days some. . .and sure, he was happy to go home and take a shower that stays hot longer than five minutes and rest on his soft, cozy bed, but he would miss not having Y/N right across from him.

That was what he was having the most trouble coming to terms with, he thinks. The idea of them not having to spend every moment of every day with one another after doing it for three weeks almost sounds wrong. It's the same feeling he gets when he knew he and Mitch wouldn’t have such easy access to one another once they went back home. Being at this camp sort of felt like being stuck in a time loop where the outside world doesn’t exist, so it’s very easy to forget that they all have lives outside of here. They all go to class, go to work, go home, study, eat and sleep.

He and Y/N live relatively close to one another -- only about a ten minute drive up the street with only one turn and it's into her apartment building -- but he wonders if they’ll utilize it. He wonders if their friendship is tied to this camp and if that’s where it will remain, or if she even wants to be friendly with him after. Harry hadn’t considered that maybe she was only putting up with him because they had to live together and she didn’t want it to be miserable. Had he questioned if he was even enjoyable to be around? How does he ask her that without sounding entirely too desperate or needy?

So partially, he drinks to ease some of the worry in his mind. Harry doesn’t think he would “break down” or something like it if they weren’t able to continue being friends -- like a forgotten summer love that he might think about throughout the fall, and message her to see how she was doing -- but he certainly wouldn’t be delighted if that’s how it ended up. Harry thinks there’s so much more to Y/N that he would like to see, and know, and hear. Three weeks isn’t enough time, Harry decided, but in the same breath he wondered if she had thought it was more than enough.

Harry knows she cares for him, at least a little bit. He knows that he cares for her and her wellbeing; he was fond of her. From what he knew of who she was fundamentally, down to her core, Harry knew she was selfless and kind -- it was hard to find people like that, who were that, without it being cakey or clouded by something else. She was transparent in who she was and her feelings regarding most things, and Harry valued her honesty.

And she was just so damn fun. Every moment with her he spent, the air filled with laughter; she brought a slice of sun in her pocket wherever she went and Harry was consistently being warmed beneath it.

The fact of the matter is, Harry doesn’t know how he could meet someone like Y/N, and get used to the idea of her not being in his life after three weeks. If he could refuse it he would, but what was he going to do? Kidnap her and take her home with him?

He’s sat on the tree root, opposed to standing beside it like he usually is, with his back pressed against the bark of the tree and he ignores the jagged, uneven trunk against his skin. Mitch was beside him, leaning lower than he was with his jacket bundled up and stuffed behind his head, his legs kicked out as far as they would go and because of this, his foot rested against Niall’s lap. Niall was pleasantly gone himself, a bit louder than normal but also zoning out every so often.

He was a good guy, Niall -- he had good opinions, and he chatted him and Mitch up about guitars often (he was typically the camp’s go to for an acoustic guy if they ever wanted campfire songs). Harry thinks they could probably be really good friends, if not for the fact that Niall was so barefaced in his crush on Y/N.

It was obvious, Harry thought. He’d thought it was obvious from the first moment he spent a prolonged period of time with both he and Y/N -- his cheeks got rosy when she touched him, he stuttered over his gratitude if she complimented him, and if she went out of her way to do something (like when she’d stuffed her hand into a thorn-bush for his guitar pick that had flung from his fingers, and subsequently got all scratched up), he would look at her how someone might stargaze.

Harry doesn’t know why he doesn’t just ask her out, if he likes her so much. It almost irritates him how skittish Niall seems to get at the prospect of it; to run away from those warm, nice feelings that she provides is silly. It reminds him entirely too much of himself and he loathes it.

Tonight had been no different, only Y/N was dancing back and forth between them and a few other counsellors (Harry only recognized one of them , who was called Rosie and had been in his first year maths). Harry watched her most of the night, in the least obnoxious and creepy way he could, just because. . .well, she was nice to look at. He liked how her body animated as she spoke, or how she nodded her head as someone was speaking to her -- it was an encouraging nod, and her eyes locked onto theirs like they might be telling her where the fountain of youth might be located, or the secrets to the universe.

She was cozy today -- it was cooler out than most of the nights that they had experienced, with a chill breeze that had even stirred goosebumps on Harry’s arms (and he was all but swaddled in his hoodie). Y/N had a light fitted sweater that she sometimes slept in -- not heavy enough to shield her from the icy terrain that winter would provide, but enough to fight past the harsh summer night breeze that threatened to help a storm roll in within the next few hours. Loosely, he let the images of her cuddled close to him invade his brain. What it might feel like, how the knit would brush against his skin, if she would hide her face in his neck or spider around him as the big spoon and burrow against his hair. Y/N struck him as someone who liked to do more of the cuddling than being cuddled herself.

He would miss her when they had to leave. Harry worried who would just exist with her, like they had been doing. He worried about her going back to a place where she felt like a burden -- he would be around, wouldn’t he? If she allowed him to, he could be there for her, but he doesn’t want to seem pushy. By all definitions, they had really just met -- Harry had known Y/N for approximately 17 days, but it felt like so much longer. He wonders if he had known her in a past life, or if it was the fact that they spent almost every day all day with one another for at least 15 of those 17 day -- he finally understands how everyone in the Love Island villa always goes on about how a day in the outside world feels like a week where they are.

It’s not like he’s professing his love to her, for fuck sake. He just likes her -- whether it be platonic or not, Harry thinks Y/N is just delightful.

“Your little girlfriend’s not with you?”

Harry had forgotten how Jack’s voice sounded how grating nails against iron pipes might make someone feel, mostly because they hadn’t spoken in quite a while. After Y/N had slapped him, he had kept to himself, resorting more to disgruntled glares and probably pissy comments he was murmuring to his mates about him. If someone asked Harry, he would say that him and his friends were afraid of Y/N -- she posed a good threat to them. Sure, they hadn’t understood the extent of her words that night (like how and why she knew Miss. Graham), but they were enough to rattle them. No matter being in university, or within the range of 20-23 years old, nobody wanted to be scolded by a woman in her 40s, nor did they want to be kicked out of a camp counsellor position, or to have their volunteer hours revoked.

So they had left him alone, which Harry thinks may have been such a strain for them he would be surprised if they hadn’t popped a blood vessel. Even if they wanted to, he was always with Y/N -- they never really had the chance, and if they did, they didn’t really take it.

Which is why he is both surprised and incredibly annoyed with Jack’s sudden appearance.

“Piss off.” Harry responds, nursing his beer bottle closer to him.

“You’re always so ill-tempered,” Jack leans up against the tree, “Just wanted to have a chat. Like why Cassidy suddenly wants to break things off after chatting with you and Y/N. Got any ideas?”

Harry’s brows dipped in confusion, “What? What are you on about?”

“Don’t act like you don’t fucking know,” Jack rolls his eyes, “Cassidy and I are doing just fucking fine for six months, but we come here, she starts chatting with you and now all the sudden she’s ready to break up. What the fuck did you say, hm?” He nudged Harry’s side with his foot, “Fucking Y/N wasn’t enough, you had to fuck Cassidy too?” He kicked him this time, harder than before.

Harry, who did not take too kindly to being kicked, rolled his eyes and pushed himself to a stand, “Dunno why you’re so fucking insecure that you think me being around has anything to do with Cassidy finally seeing what a prick you are, but this needs to stop,” he handed his bottle to Mitch who took it wordlessly, “I’m not fucking Cassidy, I’ve never fucked Cassidy, so if you could just grow the fuck up and recognize that maybe she broke up with you, because you’re awful to be around, that would be great.”

Jack, which Harry had expected, took more of a physical approach, giving a shove to Harry’s shoulders, and Harry’s back slams against the tree behind him, “Fuck you,” he spit, “You all holier than thou ‘cos you’re dipping your dick in Miss. Rainbow Bright? What do you know about me, hm? You’re just a dumb fuck who has to be here because you’re a no good druggy fuck with anger issues. How does it feel knowing you’ll amount to nothing after UNI?”

There isn’t a lot that could get under Harry’s skin. A lot of people could say a lot of shit that he brushes off and lets go, but there are two things that he really just can’t. One of them is when people try to speak poorly of his mum, and the other, was when someone pretends to know his situation when they don’t have a fucking clue. Who was this trust fund bastard to tell him he was a druggy fuck? That he would amount to nothing after UNI? Harry worked two jobs to set himself through school and keep himself fed, with a roof over his head, just so that he could live the life he wanted to after university.

Maybe it was silly to punch him, but it felt good to. Harry reared back his fist and it collided with his jaw, making Jack stumble backward, his hand flying to his face, “You fucking --” he swung in return, only he catches Harry’s shoulder because Harry moved out of the way in anticipation. Niall narrowly dodged being caught in the crossfire as he rolled out of the way.

The fight didn’t get too far, however, because when Jack was gearing up to swing again, Y/N appeared and easily wormed her way in between them, “Are you serious right now?” Her brows were furrowed -- she looked legitimately pissed off, and, well. . .it made Harry take a step back at least, “Thought we had a chat about this, hm? You were going to leave him the fuck alone -- no, look at me, not him,” she grabbed at his collar, giving a sharp tug when his angry gaze had flittered back toward Harry, “I’m not an angry person, Jack, I don’t like being mean, or cruel like you seem to be so fond of, but I can and will be if I need to and I promise you that. Don’t you ever speak to someone like that again, yeah? What you were saying was just awful.” She lets go of his collar, taking a step back and sighing in a sharp huff, “I can’t speak for Cassidy, but if I had to guess she probably cut things off because you’re a jealous bastard who questions every interaction with another person and try this alpha male persona to scare other people away. It must be exhausting.”

Jack shook his head, “We were fine --”

“You thought you were fine. Things aren’t always what they look like, alright? The sooner you understand that, the easier your life will be.” She nods toward the center of the clearing they were in, “Go get some ice from the cooler, and go the hell back to your cabin. You’re not a fun drunk.”

Albeit reluctantly, Jack follows her orders and slinks his way to the cooler. The others around them had grown quiet as they had watched the confrontation unfold, but they soon all lost interest once they realized nothing more would happen. Y/N turned to face Harry, the anger on her face immediately dissolving, as she shakes her head, “What a dick. I’m so sorry he spoke to you like that,” she takes ahold of his wrist, the hand that he had punched Jack with, running her thumbs over his reddened knuckles, “I told him -- after the lake, I told him that he needed to leave you alone or I’d do something about it. Dunno what I was gonna do, but I was going to do something -- I will --”

“Hey, hey,” he cuts her off, “It’s okay -- it’s okay, come on, let’s. . .let’s go to the cabin, yeah? Should we go back to the cabin?”

Y/N looks at him like he was batty, “No shit we’re going back to the cabin! I’ve got to give you like a full medical look over. He slammed you into the tree, and honestly, you bruise like a peach.”

They make the trek back to the cabin, relatively quiet, Harry still attempting to process what had happened and what Y/N had said. Had she really spoken to Jack after the fact and threatened him if he messed with Harry again? The softest, probably sweetest person he knows, had taken Jack off to the side and told him if he didn’t leave Harry alone she was going to do something about it. Not only that, she grabbed him by his collar and told him off in front of everyone. It made his heart race, the thought of it, and his cock twitches in his pants at the moment on repeat in his mind.

Once they get back to the cabin, Y/N has him take his hoodie off with her in the bathroom so she could visualize his back and shoulder. Jack may be short-tempered and smaller than Harry, but his punches still packed a great deal, so a nice, reddening bruise was forming quickly around his shoulder. On his back there were scrapes from the tree bark, Y/N tells him, and a ton of little bruises that had begun to form as well. She makes him stay still as she retrieves the first aid kit from their medicine cabinet.

“Y/N,” he started, and she hummed to encourage him to continue, “When did you speak with Jack privately?”

She clears her throat, plopping the first aid kit down on the sink counter and unclipping it open, “The morning after the lake,” she answers without hesitation, “I wasn’t trying to like, fight your battles or anything, but I needed him to know I wasn’t bluffing when I told them I would rat them out, and worse if the situation allowed it. I hate bullies,” she pulls out a small tube of bacitracin, tutting her tongue as she squeezes it out on the tip of her finger, “And I hate how they treat you. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

“You didn’t at all,” Harry remarks softly, jolting when her fingers very carefully graze over one of the tender areas on his back, “Thank you, actually, for sticking up for me again.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I think I’m pretty scrappy when I need to be,” she giggles to herself, “Like, if need be, I would take on the Queen for you. Might be an uneven match though, she’s pushing 100.”

Harry spins around to face her though, “Y/N, I mean it,” he tells her seriously, their gazes locking, “Thank you for everything. For dealing with my attitude, for sticking up for me, for helping with the kids, for making this experience bearable, for being such a positive light,” he sighs, “You’re amazing, you deserve amazing things.”

Y/N looks taken by his words -- he wonders if she’s as lost in his eyes as he is in hers. Her mouth falls open gently, like she may be searching for what to say back to him but can’t come up with anything. He worries that he’d said too much -- that he freaked her out or something. He wasn’t trying to, he was just so grateful for her, he didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to express it.

He is about to apologize for being too forward, when Y/N pushes the short distance and connects their lips together.

Harry’s confused for a moment as his brain registers what’s happening, but when he feels that she might pull away, his body finally seems to wake up. His hands find her face, cradling her jaw in his hands as he reaffirms the kiss and lets the butterflies in his body take over in hoards. He’d given thought to kissing Y/N, sure, but he’d never thought it would happen. Not only that, he’d never thought it would feel this nice. She tastes like the pineapple wine coolers she’d been sipping on that night, her lips still a bit sticky from the residue of the alcohol on her soft lips.

She’s gentle in how she kisses, like Harry would have guessed -- careful too, and cautious with how her lips parted from him only to fix back together. A pool of heat had formed in Harry’s lower belly and rose to his chest, stirring his heart in flutters when her tongue slid into his mouth and met her own. Harry hadn’t realized just how badly he wanted to kiss her until their tongues are sliding against one another, and his hands are slipping down from her jaw, caressing the delicate skin of her throat, skating down her chest to her hips. He squeezes her sides and pulls her closer to him, feeling the knit of her top rub against his bare torso. It was as soft as he’d imagined it’d be.

Had she been wanting to kiss him for as long as he wanted to kiss her? Normally, Harry could tell how badly someone wanted to kiss him by the act alone, but with Y/N he was so caught up he couldn’t focus. She was calm and soft, but the longer they kissed, the more ardent she became. It was the tiny moan that had left from her mouth into his own, that made him lightheaded. He had to pull away to breathe but his forehead pressed against hers as he breathed in, “Harry?” Her voice is low, she says his name like a secret, “Was that okay?”

His response is to press their lips back together, but this time only for a moment, before he withdraws. Harry loops his fingers around her wrist and brings her with him back into the main room, flopping onto her bed since it was the closest and urging her to climb into his lap. She straddles him, and just as soon as she’s within reach, he slides his fingers at the nape of her neck and pulls her back to his mouth.

It was good -- it felt so fucking good, Harry couldn’t begin to describe it. He held her close, and tried as he might to stave off his cock from ruining the moment, the longer they kissed the harder he got. How she was positioned at first made it so she couldn’t really feel him, but when she tried to get closer to him, she scooted her hips forward and rubbed up right against him. A gasp leaves her as she parts from him, looking down, having lifted her hips, “I’m sorry,” she apologizes and Harry gives a startled laugh.

“I’ve got a stiffy, and you’re apologizing?” He chuckles with a shake of his head, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I’ve got a pretty girl in my lap kissing me, s’kind of hard not to get hard. We can stop if you want.”

“I don’t want to stop,” she answers with no delay nor doubt, as she lowers back down, resting her front on his prick and with this she gives an experimental roll of her hips. Harry hisses in a breath as she does it again, her own little moan slipping from her mouth. She was only in a thin little pair of shorts, and Harry had chosen sweatpants for the night, so there was little fabric truly separating them. Harry was thankful for it as she continued to roll her hips against him, sponging kisses from his mouth, down his jawline, to the curve of his throat. She fixed her lips there, lulling her tongue over the skin before she started suckling at him and Harry’s hands danced along her back, stroking up and down it, feeling her, holding her closer. Each roll of her hips made him harder, and he was desperate to know if she was wet. If he pushed his fingers into her shorts, would they come back slick from her arousal? Would she watch him as he slid them into his mouth to taste her? Would she let him split her thighs and lick straight from the source.

His mind was overcome with filth, smutty images entangle once innocent thoughts as she brought the blood to the surface of his skin. When one of his hands left where it had latched onto her hip and slowly maneuvered around to her front, she paused, but left her face dipped in his throat, “Are you wet for me?” He asks her quietly and she nods through a little shiver, “Yeah? Bet you soaked through your little panties,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers past the elastic bands of her shorts and underwear, but left his fingers just past them, “Answer me.”

“Yes,” her voice trembles, she swallows thickly and the muscles in her abdomen contract beneath his fingers.

Harry hums low, slipping his fingers down further and he dips between her slick folds, “Oh, Sweetheart,” he presses a chaste kiss to the side of her head, “Is this your first time getting wet for me?” She shakes her head, “Hm, really? So you’re like this often? Do you take care of it?”

“I -- yeah,” she stutters over a moan as the pads of his fingers roll over her swollen clit slowly, feeling it flick beneath them, “At night, sometimes I will in the shower if I can’t. . .if I can’t wait anymore.”

He feigns a gasp, “Oh my goodness,” he speeds up the slow lull of his fingers, “Your showers are always so fast, doll, you’re really that quick to cum?”

Harry may not be able to see her face, but he can hear the pout clear in her voice, “It usually isn’t that fast! Just with you, it is -- when I think of you, it’s always quick.”

He thought it would be impossible for his cock to be harder than it already was, but her words make pre-cum bubble at the tip, and when he dips his fingers back into her slick little hole, he gets even harder. Gliding his fingers from her panties, he draws them up to his mouth and presses them past his lips as he’d wanted to. Y/N has withdrawn from his throat, watching him do it with glassy eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders, digging her fingers into grape sized dents at the muscle. Her mouth falls open as he sucks her juices away, his eyes fluttering and a groan torn from his throat.

“Get on the bed,” he instructed and Y/N followed without question, crawling from his lap and lying her head on her pillow as Harry stood, and repositioned himself. He takes a hold of shorts and drags them down her legs, wriggling them off her ankle and tossing them elsewhere. His lips finds her ankle first, before he’s peppering and sponging kisses down her leg, the parts that he had tended to throw over his shoulder. When he gets to her thighs, he makes the kisses slower, softer -- he suckles and nips at the supple skin until he’s right before her center, only to switch to her other thigh and push kisses up and down the length of it.

Y/N’s whole body trembles with each shaky breath she gives. She’d spoken no words until he was positioned right in front of her core, looping his fingers in the waistband of the little cotton pair she had on, pulling them up toward her hips so the fabric stretched out over her. He could see her pussy beneath it, made out the outline of her swollen lips and engorged clit -- it made his mouth water.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want,” she tells him, and his gaze is pulled back up to her -- she looks apprehensive.

“What?”

She shrugs, “I know some guys don’t really like to so --”

“Do you want me to eat your pussy?” Harry asks her bluntly, and he revels in the way her eyes widen, and how bashful her face turns as she looks away, “It’s a yes or no question, honey, if you don’t want me to, I can come back up and kiss you while I make you feel good with my fingers. If you do want me to, I’m g’na pull those panties to the side and make you cum on my tongue -- either I’m good with.”

“I -- yes,” she answers, her voice meek, “Yes I want you to.”

Harry smiles softly, “Poor thing, How many stupid boys were refusing to eat this sweet little peach?” He runs his thumb up and down her slit, visualizing where the wet spot had grown and soaked her panties so that the fabric thinned. Leaning in, he nosed at her clit and she inhales, “God, I’m so excited — you’re okay with this? You’re okay with me eating this little pussy out? Need you to let me know because once I start sweet girl, I’ll be in heaven.”

“Yes, please, please lick me.”

“So polite,” he suckles a kiss at the very innermost part of her thigh, before licking one, long stripe up her center through the fabric. She moans, pushing her hips down toward his mouth as he drags his tongue over it again, and again, and again. He soaks it with his spit, teasing her — he wanted to pull her panties to the side and suckle and slurp between her lips until she came — but he wants her to beg for him. Wants to hear that she wants him just as much as he wants her.

He smiles against her as he hears her getting impatient, little huffs between each moan. She whines, her hips bucking up against his tongue — he looks up to her, watching as her chest rises and falls quickly. The fingers of one hand are dug into the sheets beside her, while the others rest between her teeth. Her brows were tilted, lips pouted, whimpers come more frequently the longer he suckles and laps on the fabric, drenching it.

“Harry,” she finally works out, shivering when he pauses just over her clit and flickers his tongue over the top of it, “Oh, please just -- please.”

“Hm?” He hums against her, jolts, inhaling sharply, “What is it, baby? You’ve got to use your words.”

“Please stop teasing me,” she tells him, “Please take them off.”

And Harry may love to tease, but he wasn’t cruel. Wasn’t a bloody monster, was he? So he slides his index and middle finger in between the fabric and her core and tugs them over to the side -- he didn’t want to waste any time wiggling them down her legs. No, instead he dips his tongue in between her lips and slides it flat and straight up to her swollen clit. The groan that leaves her is sinful -- it makes his cock twitch in his pants, his heart slamming against his sternum as he suckles and her fingers find his curls. She digs her fingers within the strands, rocking her hips up to meet his mouth, and for a moment, Harry just leaves his tongue out and flat for her to grind against. Harry thinks, if he could spend the day just strapped to Y/N’s bed, willing, ready, and waiting for her to come use his mouth how she pleased -- he would be inconceivable happy.

Eventually he wiggles his face back into her, sliding his tongue back and forth before he latches his lips back around her silky folds. The swollen little button crying desperately for his attention was where he spent most of his time, lapping, or lulling his tongue in circles around it. She keens, her heel digs into the mattress and begins to slide down but Harry grabs a hold of her thighs and pushes both of them up, so her knees are to her chest. The new position makes her cry out his name raggedly, and Harry was teeming with carnal desire, and so horny he thinks he would barely have to hump against the mattress to cum.

“I’m close,” she warns him, mewling, “I’m g’na cum, I’m -- oh, please don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

Harry doesn’t think he’d stop if he was paid to do it. He doubles his efforts, sucking harder, sliding down to tongue at her hole while his fingers wrapped around and spun little circles into her clit. His other hand he reaches up with and slides his thumb into her mouth and she accepts it graciously, as it muted her moans that grew louder and louder the closer she got.

When she cums, it’s beautiful -- Harry wishes he would be able to see it on repeat, how her back arched upward and her hips bucked loosely as she pulsated around his tongue. Her mouth hangs open around his thumb, her eyes squeezed shut, the fingers in his hair tighten and her other hand wraps around his wrists and holds him tightly. The initial lurch of it subsides and she melts into the mattress, trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving beneath her sweater.

After he thoroughly cleans her (until she’s twitching and jumping away from his tongue), he crawls up her body, pushing her sweater up over her breasts, “Can I fuck you, Darling?” He asks her, a small smile on his mouth when she leans her chest closer to him so he can reach behind her and unclip her bra. Tugging the cups away, he grabs them carefully, thumbing over her nipple, “If you don’t want to, that’s okay, don’t feel bad about it, just let me know.”

“I want you to,” she rushes to tell him, nodding, “Do you have a condom?”

He dips his head against her chest, breathing out a sigh, “Fuck me,” he utters, shaking his head, “No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”

He usually does -- Harry always keeps a few on him, but he remembers very vividly he and Y/N had blown his last one up just a few nights prior and drawn a face on it. For a moment he feels hopeless, a sad pit forming in his stomach because the thought of fucking Y/N sounded like paradise and he only brought one bloody condom that he wasted.

“It’s okay, we’ll do it next time then,” she tells him, and Harry feels a joyful spike in his overall demeanor. Next time -- she wanted there to be a next time? And if she wanted there to be a next time, then they would have to see each other after the camp. . .they would spend time together, Harry could learn what she was like in her normal day to day. He was eager and delighted, and not even just at the prospect of pushing into her (which he was also pretty damn excited for), “I mean, if you wanted to do this again, then, yeah -- right? We’ll hang out after camp is through?”

A smile threatens to split his cheeks, “Of course we will,” he tells her, nosing at her jawline, “And not just ‘cos you promised to let me fuck you. I was hoping we would see each other still but was worried that you might be sick of me.”

Her brows pinch, “Sick of you? Dummy, I thought you would be sick of me!” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at the both of them, “We’re so stupid, we ought’a communicate better.” Y/N presses at his abdomen, “C’mon then, I’ll spin around and you can fuck between my thighs. I did it once with a boy -- I just shaved in the shower last night too so it should be soft.”

Y/N flips over, scooting her bum in the air for him as she cuddles a pillow to her face, her ankles locked in place and her thighs squeezed together. Harry wiggles out of his pants and boxers before he lets a glob of spit fall onto his stiff cock that had soundly slapped up against his stomach, slicking it up nice and wet so the glide between her thighs wouldn’t be too dry. One hand he lays palm flat to her bum, stroking the skin there with his thumb while the other hand navigates his prick, tipping it down and fitting it between her warm, soft thighs.

It felt good; Harry groans wantonly as he pulls out and sinks back in, watching himself disappear between them. She wiggles her bum at him and Harry playfully swats it, chuckling when she squeals and giggles, “You’re so fucking cute,” he coos before bending over, stretching himself over her so his chest was pressed to her back as he started steadily fucking in between her thighs. One hand he uses to cup her breast and tweak at her nipple while the other he slides down to her pussy, finding her swollen little button and rubbing it.

Harry’s skin prickles as she moans, her legs falling open just slightly but he tuts his tongue, “Keep them nice and tight for me, baby,” he murmurs, and she nods, tightening the channel for him once more. He won’t last long, he knows it -- he can feel that pool of heat crackling in his lower belly. His blood buzzes in his ears as he fucks his hips forward, their skin slapping together sound in their little cabin. Her breasts bounce with each thrust he gives, she’s beginning to cum again from the ministration of his fingers, and Harry’s nearing the end of his rope.

“You feel so fucking good,” he’s just a breath away from her ear, “You’re gonna make me cum.”

He nibbles at the shell of her ear and lets his eyes flutter closed, his senses on overload. All he can hear, and taste, and smell, and feel is her. Dizzy and overwhelmed, Harry feels as if he may burst at the seams.

“Cum,” she murmurs, “Please, I want you to feel good -- I want you to cum.”

That’s all it takes -- the little push of her words has his hips stuttering as he cums, spurting long stripes between her thighs, some catching her skin, some landing on her sheets below them. His world fizzles out, static splinters through his body as warmth rushes through his veins, and his toes curl hard enough to lock up. As he comes back to, he giggles, the last of his orgasm drooling from the tip as he pushes a kiss to the back of Y/N’s head, “Stay still, lemme go get us a rag.”

His legs feel like jelly when he stands, fleeing arse naked to the bathroom and returning moments later with warm, wet rags. He cleans her first, careful in how he works her underwear down her legs before he pats gently around her thighs and at her center. She’s sensitive, so a few times she twitches and flinches from him but eventually relaxes as she holds tightly to the pillow. He wipes himself off a bit haphazardly, more concerned with getting Y/N somewhere to lie down as he gently tugs on her arms, “C’mere, poor thing, I came all over your bed.”

“Yeah, you jerk,” she says puckishly, letting him guide her over to his bed, climbing in and immediately snuggling beneath his covers. Harry is not too far behind her, and at first she snuggles up close to him, she hisses and squeals before trying to shuffle away, “Why are your feet like ice?” She asks him, her words accusing, like he’d come in the bed with intent to freeze her.

Harry shrugs, “I dunno’ I usually wear socks to bed to keep them warm.”

“Socks? To sleep?” She slowly wiggles her way closer to him, despite the words that follow, “I don’t think we can share a bed, you’re batty.”

“Guess you’ll have to go sleep on the jizzy bed then.”

Y/N laughs, and Harry feels it vibrate through his body as he holds her close to his chest, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They’re quiet for a moment, as they both settle, taking deep, slow breaths, allowing themselves to slip towards sleep.

Before Harry could get there, Y/N murmured his name.

“Thanks for being my camp ‘husbad’.”

Harry smiled to himself, and held her a little closer before he teased her.

“You can say thank you next time with an 18 carat diamond.”

#WRITING #WOOOOOOOOOOO #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT #YAHTZEE :D #IT WAS FUN TO WRITE #IM GONNA DO A SMALL PART 3 TO TIE THINGS UP IN A LITTLE BOW #HAPPY READING #harry smut

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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

Text

Gold Rush ↬ t.h

Gif by @parkeraul :)

A/N: I'm in love with that song 🙈 also here's my super late contribution of professor!tom 😋 cause I've been procrastinating on the wandavision au (in my defence though, it's taking a lot of brainstorming 😂) anyway here you go-

Wc: 2.6k+

Warnings: lemme know if you find one :)

Summary: He taught British History and you chastise yourself for not auditing for that subject earlier.

Pairing: Professor!Tom x Student!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

Waking up with a start, you groan at the shrill sound of your alarm. With a sigh that was more of a grunt of annoyance, you tried to reach for your phone at the side table, hissing when you felt the corner of your elbow hit the table, pain shooting up to your shoulder.

Great, you weren't even up yet and your day was already going shitty. You just hoped that your professor won't be grumpy about you being late for the millionth time this semester.

You hated cultural architecture. You had nothing against the course, but You hated your professor with a passion and wished that you could burn your textbooks for all you cared, right in front of your teacher's eyes, watch him writhe in fear as you banished the very existence of your material.

You were being dramatic, but in your defence, your professor was an old bastard who never left an opportunity to reprimand you, going as far as letting you know how uneven your margins were on your latest project.

He wore birkenstocks with a three piece. You wouldn't trust him with your assignments.

Getting out of your dorm room was work, hard work. But you got out, brushed your teeth and wore what you hoped were presentable clothing.

"You look hungover." Your roommate, Stacy, commented, spitting in the sink as you scowled at her.

She was straightforward, outspoken and somehow managed to look like one of those Victoria secrets models that you loathed, even at seven in the morning. You hated her.

(You didn't.)

"Thanks, I hope I smell too. Want that son of a bitch- what's his name, Wilson, to suffer for giving me that C minus on my thesis." You grumbled, rubbing your hands through your hair to flat them out.

"You really hate him, don't you." She snickered, popping off her shirt. You tried not to look, not wanting to come off as a pervert, but damn, she was fit. You contemplated her words, frowning at your own reflection.

You looked disheveled, the dark eye bags under your eyes very apparent as you tried to mask them with foundation, setting your hair for the millionth time. Oh well, you were presentable enough. Sweatpants would have to do for your only class today, you could binge Netflix after this wretched class.

"I do. I hope his third wife divorces him and he loses his thermos of coffee in the subway." You said, adding your look finally before wearing your shoes.

"That's cruel, didn't know you had it in you." She snickered, patting your back and following you as you closed the door, "Well I have to go to my boring science lectures now so, see you later hun."

"Yeah, enjoy your chemistry period with your boyfriend!" You cheered sarcastically, rolling your eyes and hugging her to tell her that you were only joking. Your relationship was this, of jokes and hugs and kisses. You considered her your best friend.

Rushing towards the gates of your university, you hastily tightened your loosening hair tie, adjusting the straps of your bags. You were pretty sure you had broken your record of being late to your class. You may hate the professor, but you actually enjoyed the subject.

Wheezing as you ran past the late comers, you nodded at the receptionist, hastily signing yourself in. You would blame your clumsiness for what happened next, because one second you were fixing your sande on the foot of the fountain, and next thing you knew you were crashing into a firm body, your nose hitting the random stranger’s chest.

"I’m so sorry! I’m kinda late to class and I wasn’t looking and- whoa, ow.” You rushed your words, groaning when you felt blood rush from your head to toe, nose throbbing with double vision, a reminder of your clumsiness.

“Whoa, hey calm down, it’s okay, I wasn’t looking either.” The stranger said, his thick South Western accent snapping you out of your self pity.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks instead, not anticipating your face in a flush this early in the morning, when you got a good look at the stranger. He was good looking, in his black high turtleneck and brown checkered pants. He had a small leather satchel clutched in his hands, face looking as flushed as you felt when you realised that you had been gawking at him.

He was probably no older than his mid twenties, making you wonder what he was doing in your university. He was too old to be a student, and too young to be a professor. But then again, you wouldn't judge him for joining college late.

Right?

"S-sorry, you um, you must be really late, you should go." He stuttered, your heart fluttering at his dimpled chin and thick accent. His eyes were gleaming in the morning sun, captivating in a way that left you in awe.

"Um yeah, I am." You nodded, composing yourself, hoping that you didn't look too sleep deprived or disheveled, "where are you going, if you don't mind me asking."

"Um, the architecture wing?" He said, unconsciously stepping besides you.

"Oh, I'm going that way. Is it your first time coming here? Haven't seen you around." You asked, trying not to stare at his sharp jawline and the way the morning sun hit him just right, illuminating and accentuating his curly brown hair.

"Yeah, it's my first lecture, so um, looks like I'm late too." He smiled. It was infectious, you noticed as you mirrored his expression.

"Oh, you're a student?"

"Actually, I'm a professor. Just transferred from UCL."

So you were right, he was a professor. He looks so young though. You thought, nodding at him, your thoughts interrupted by his laugh. Looking at him with confusion, you raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, everyone says that. I started right after finishing graduation so, I guess I'm not much older than you." He smiled, kicking the small pebbles littered around the set grassy ground. It had just rained, the smell of wet ground still fresh.

"I said that out loud didn't I?" You smirked, ducking your head to hide.

"You did."

Entering the building, you realised that you hadn't asked which subject he taught, crossing your fingers and hoping that he would replace the old bastard that taught you cultural architecture.

"I forgot to ask, which lecture do you teach?" You asked, looking for your class in the end. The hallways were empty, it was way past your first lecture and all the students were already in the auditorium.

"Oh, uh, British History." He answered. You didn't let disappointment show too much on your face, smiling shyly before gesturing towards the class, "that's you."

"Oh, um thank you." He smiled, pursing his thin lips together as he walked towards the class. You could hear screaming of the students as you both neared the classroom, you still standing by the door, "I didn't get your name."

His question snapped you out of your disappointed gaze,

"Oh, it's Y/n. Y/n L/n." You said with a smile.

"Pleasure to meet you Y/n, I'm Thomas Holland, but you can call me Tom." He said awkwardly, before turning back to his class, who had yet to notice him.

"The pleasure's all mine Professor."

For the first time in your college life, you didn't feel like tearing your hair off during your lecture, your thoughts wandering around. You wanted to berate yourself for not paying attention, but your thoughts kept going there.

It was funny, how you met him not long ago and he was already taking up residence in your brain. You could not control your feelings after all. Something akin to nausea or excitement eased into your stomach when you pictured his smile, his black turtleneck that accentuated his biceps and pectorals. The little rebellious eyebrow and the tiny scar above it.

It made your heart flutter, everything seemingly seemed to stop around you. It scared you a bit, how You had managed to envision the little details of his face in your brain after such a short duration.

You didn't realise that you were smiling until you felt a nudge on your side, making you nearly jump on your seat.

"What?!" You hissed, scowling at your classmate.

"Who're you thinking about?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows as she leaned towards you. You had known her long enough to know her name but never bothered learning, and you were too scared to ask now.

"It's none of your business." You muttered, glancing up to see your professor scowling at a student as they stood up.

"Well okay, but did you hear about the hot new professor? Apparently he's teaching British History, I regret not taking that as a subject now." She said, her cheeks flushed with excitement. You furrowed your brows, feeling a pang in your chest at the realisation that you were probably just another girl with a stupid crush on the hot professor, that there were already girls who would die to feel his touch.

"How do you know about him?" You asked, raising an eyebrow as you try to act nonchalant. You weren't being subtle, apparently, because you could see her snapping her bubblegum with a smirk, leaning forward as if trading secrets.

"You kidding right? Everyone knows about him, you got a crush on him or something?" She suggested, scooting close enough to make you squirm.

"I literally just met him, and ew, he's a professor, why would I see him that way?" You whisper, willing your heart to stop palpitating at the thought of said professor, your gut twisting in anticipation.

"I don't know girl, he's hot and young and so much better than this bastard." She sighed, leaning on her palm with a fake dreamy expression.

You went back to ignoring her after that, noticing how her notebook said 'Eloise'. At least you didn't have to ask her her name now.

Your class went surprisingly well, or maybe it was because you weren't paying attention and thinking about him again. You really needed to get a grip on yourself.

Walking out of your class, you decided to go to the cafeteria, your stomach begging for your attention.

Setting your things on a table, you took out your phone to scroll through Instagram, before switching it off and looking around the cafeteria. You didn't know what you were expecting to see, but your stomach was gurgling with hunger and nothing made sense when you were hungry.

Walking to grab something to eat, you pick up your bag, hanging it over one of your shoulders before getting in the line.

Just as you were about to turn with your bun and cup of coffee, you crashed into someone for the second time that day. Cursing your clumsiness, you heard a familiar British accent curse not very colourful words, making you stumble over as you tried to wipe off the hot coffee off his shirt.

"Hey, it's okay." He said, stopping your frantic gestures by holding your wrist with his to cease any movements.

"Professor Holland! I'm so sorry, it's like, I'm just clumsy. I have no excuse." You sighed in resignation, mentally facepalming at spilling your coffee at the hot professor.

"It's okay darling, I've had much worse spilled on me." He smirked, his hand still holding on to yours. You had started walking away from the location, and yet his hand didn't let go, "You know, I used to babysit during my college days."

"Oh, babysitting, right of course." You chuckled awkwardly, chest heaving with the sudden close proximity with the professor, dissipating the not quite PG thought that just occurred in your mind at his words..

"Sorry for-" You said in unison with him, chuckling.

"You go first." He said.

"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on You, it must have hurt and I ruined your shirt and now there's a big splotch of coffee right in the middle!" You said, circling your fingers around your palm as you walked with your back to the exit as you walked out of the cafeteria, food forgotten and him following your pace.

Before you could continue your awkward blabber, you were standing in the garden outside, leaning against a pillar with the garden in your view looking golden in the setting sun. He was standing in your view, the shadows around his jaw making it look sharp enough to cut glass.

Taking a breath, you looked up at his smiling form with confusion when he didn't answer, instead leant onto the pillar next to you.

"You were... gonna say something?" You reminded, smiling awkwardly as you fiddled with your fingers.

"Oh? Oh! Oh yes yes, You know, I was kind of disappointed that you weren't in my class, Mister Wilson talks very highly of you." He said, folding his arms on his chest, it made his biceps bulge.

"He does?" You looked at him with surprise, guilt panging in your chest when you remembered yourself bad mouthing the professor not long ago.

"Yes, says you're a bright student with a bright future." He answered, leaning his head back so that his neck was exposed, Adam's Apple bobbing as he gulped, his hair falling into place perfectly against his forehead. The arch of his neck was beautiful, tracing it with your eyeballs as you imagined which other curves of his were as beautiful, immediately dismissing those thoughts, chastising yourself for thinking such a way of a professor.

"That's… sweet of him. I've never heard him compliment me once in the two and half years I've been in his class." You chuckle, leaning your elbow on the pillar to get a better look at his side profile.

"Hmm, he says he's hard on you because he wants you to do your best..."

You stopped listening past that, your breath growing more erratic the more he talked, his smooth voice washing over you like warm honey with a squeeze of lemon. Swallowing a sudden lump in your throat, your heart leaping, leaving you nauseous and in a dream like trance.

Tom noticed immediately, noticing your slouched posture as you stared at him with a small smile, the upturn of your lips so inviting that he almost dived in, wanting to know the feeling of them what they felt like against his.

He wasn't the kind to date his students, in fact, he rarely dated after joining uni and becoming a professor.

He strictly believed that student/teacher relationships should end in only a professional non romantic set up. That was all up until he crashed into you that morning.

You had been in his mind all day, stirring him crazy as he imagined your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your subject of interest, the say your fingers fiddled with the ring you wore on your index finger.

He wondered if this feeling would last forever or become a vague memory, an attraction of hearts that didn't last but felt good till it did. If he was rushing, or if you even felt the same way.

He was smart, of course that's how he became a teacher, but he still couldn't place your feelings.

So when he saw you staring at him, his heart leaping in his throat at your adorable smile, the only logical answer his brain gave was that you liked him too. Temporary attraction or not, he wasn't one to look a gift horse in it's mouth.

Next thing he knew your lips were crashing onto his, your chest pressed against his firmly as your hands reached up to the base of his neck.

Your fingers were soft, tongue swishing against his as he opened his mouth to let you enter. His hands automatically reach for your waist, holding onto firmly as he slammed you against the pillar.

The sun was nearly down, the last of the rays hitting the garden, lighting you both up in a golden glow that left you breathless with a fire raging in your souls.

"What do you say that I audit for British history? I'd like to learn more lessons from you, Professor Holland." You said, breathless against his chest, hiding your nose against his sternum, blood rushing to your ears as his warm hand burned against the bare skin underneath your shirt.

"That would be great darling, anything to see your pretty smile every morning."

A/N: let me know what you think! :)

#tom holland x reader #professor! tom holland x reader #professor!tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland x you #spideygirl writes

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seconds-not-decades · 2 years ago

Text

Time and Oblivion

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Fem! OC

Author's Note: Hello and welcome. This is my long-awaited season three fic and I will be posting daily.

Warnings: Season 3 spoilers, slightly long post, cursing, and mention of abuse (if you squint hard enough).

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World's Biggest Ball of Twine

~ * ~

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989, 16 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began. Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got seven of them.

~ * ~

It was morning now. Klaus and Diego were watching little Stanley as Five and Karina retrieved their breakfast.

"That little delinquent is your son?" Klaus asked Diego, obviously holding back his amusement.

"Allegedly my son," Diego corrected him flatly.

Klaus laughed now. "That's so funny!"

"Wait, who's…who's the mother?" Five frowned as the two joined them at the table.

"Lila," Diego casually replied.

"Excuse me?" Klaus stared at him.

"Whoa, Lila's here?" Five was stunned.

"Since when did she get here?" Karina added, though she glanced at Stan and then Diego in confusion. More or less confused by the genetic/biological side of their relations.

"Was," Diego corrected again. "She dropped him off in my lap last night then bolted."

"I don't much care for that one," Klaus commented.

"Don't," Diego held a finger up.

"Technically, she's family," Five pointed out.

"She was trying to murder us, like, yesterday!" Klaus exclaimed.

"Yeah, like I said, "family"," Five retorted.

"Diego, is she coming back?" Karina inquired.

"Well, she goddamn better be because we got more important things to be dealing with right now!" Diego shouted to Stanley.

"Calm down. Shh!" Klaus hushed him.

"Where's Luther?" Viktor walked up to the table.

"Who cares? Probably out for…a run," Diego paused when he noticed his new appearance.

"Mmm! Love the haircut," Klaus complimented as Five eyed Viktor thoughtfully, taking a sip of his mimosa.

Viktor smiled softly. "So I, uh, talked to Marcus last night."

"Wait, what? You talked with the enemy?" Diego questioned. "By yourself?"

"Somebody had to do something," Viktor replied.

"Who elected you, Vanya?"

"It's, uh, Viktor," Viktor corrected Diego.

"Who's Viktor?"

The four then looked at Viktor in slow realization.

"I am. It's who I've always been," Viktor said, glancing around at them. "Uh, is that an issue for anyone?"

"Nah, I'm good with it," Diego replied.

"Yeah, me too. Cool," Klaus agreed.

"Proud of you," Karina winked at him, taking a sip of her mimosa as well.

"Truly happy for you, Viktor," Five rounded out the compliments. "But last time I checked, you don't speak for this family."

"Okay, well, it's fine, okay?" Viktor returned, sitting down with them. "Marcus totally gets it. He doesn't want a war any more than we do."

Diego quickly shook his head. "What are you talking about? He tried to homicide us!"

"So did Lila, and you had a kid with her," Klaus shot.

"That's not the point!" Diego shot back.

"We made a deal," Viktor continued. "He's gonna give back Five's briefcase, then we're gonna get out of the timeline. We're gonna meet later today for the, uh, the handover."

"Oh, thank God!" Klaus applauded while Five was in disbelief.

"That's a rookie move. Dude is playing you," Diego scoffed.

Viktor eyed him. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, but maybe we can use this. And we turn it back on them, and then we wipe them the hell out."

"Diego, stop, please," Viktor was exasperated. "And you're not gonna, like, do anything today."

"Except bond with your spawn," Klaus patted Diego's shoulder.

"Alleged spawn."

"I will get the briefcase, and then we will all go back and fix the timeline," Viktor announced.

"Hey, we're not going anywhere!" Five cut in. "This is a perfectly acceptable timeline!"

"Yeah, why don't you tell that to Allison, who's upstairs grieving her daughter, who doesn't even exist here!" Viktor remarked.

"He has a point, we really did want to meet Claire," Karina slowly admitted.

"Not to mention, we've been replaced by a bunch of blobs and cubes and birds and shit!" Diego added rather loudly.

"News flash, geniuses! It's not about us!" Five announced, shooting Karina an apologetic glance from his outburst. "Take a look around. If you hadn't noticed, there's no doomsday. There's no apocalypse. The sun is shining. Birds are doing whatever the hell birds do. That's all that matters. We're done messing with time." He grabbed his glass before glancing at Karina. "And I don't know about you, my darling, but I'm officially retired." He got up and left to go back to the buffet.

"Is he wearing aftershave?" Klaus questioned in Five's wake. "I'm concerned."

"What about you?" Diego eyed Karina.

"As insufferable as this timeline may be, I understand where he's coming from and not going to lie, I want to be done with time traveling too," she replied. "Though my only downside is I won't have a chance to reunite with my mother ever again. But, who am I kidding, I came to terms with that years ago."

"Because of your um…history with The Commission?" Viktor looked at her sympathetically.

"Unfortunately. Wasn't really fond of the idea of putting a target on my mother's head."

And with that, she quickly followed after Five. She made it over to his side when suddenly the electricity went out. Everyone groaned as Five and Karina looked around in confusion before everything went back up.

"Hey," Klaus whispered to Five. "What do you say we get outta here, huh? Take a little…road trip."

"What are you talking about?" Five started to fill up his plate with food again. Karina went off to get some more fruit.

"I'm talking about a sojourn to the countryside. You and me, the wind in our hair. Thelma and Louise on the open road," Klaus grinned.

"You know they die in the end, right?" Karina eyed him.

"Holding hands, living our best life, my little cherub!" Klaus continued in a whisper to both of them, "Listen to me. I nearly died from Luther's sleep farts last night. We need to get out of here, get some fresh air! Hell, Karina should join us! I don't want to keep you lil love doves apart!"

Five and Karina turned to face him.

"Sounds fun, actually," Karina shrugged. "Could do with a change of scenery for once in my life."

"Okay, I'll bite. Why us, Klaus?" Five questioned.

"Because you said…you said you're retired, and that's what retired people do," Klaus replied. "And don't you two deserve some fun?"

Karina didn't hear that. She was too busy staring at the empty lobster tank in confusion and concern.

"Um…Five…?" she tapped his arm.

"Yes, my angel?" he returned.

She pointed to the tank. "Are my eyes playing tricks on me or do you see it, too? Or rather, not, see it…?"

"There's no lobsters," Five observed in slight disbelief.

"Excuse me?" Klaus asked.

"There were three lobsters in that tank a minute ago," Karina blinked.

"Yeah, well, you know, maybe Chet blended 'em into a morning smoothie," Klaus dismissed them.

Five looked at him and smiled. "You're an idiot, but we're in."

"Whoo!" Klaus cheered enthusiastically. "Come on. We'll get a few road sodas for the journey. Sometimes, you gotta clear the head out," he rambled as he, Five, and Karina began to head off.

"Guys, wait. Where are you going?" Viktor asked them.

"Get the rats out of the maze, you know?" Klaus continued, not knowing he had spoken to them.

"Come on," Five nudged him.

Karina glanced back at Viktor. "We're going on the road for a bit. We'll be back. Good luck with Marcus."

If Viktor wasn't meeting up with the Number One of the Sparrows, she would have suggested inviting him too, but, unfortunately he had to miss out this time.

~ * ~

So here the three were. Cruising down a countryside road in a car they borrowed from the hotel. Five was in the passenger seat, Karina was in the back reading a book, and Klaus was (safely) driving. "The Oogum Boogum Song" by Brenton Wood was playing over the radio.

"This actually isn't so terrible," Five admitted.

"See? Told you," Klaus returned.

"Come to think of it, my whole life I've been under the gun," Five mused. "Missions for Dad, working for the Commission, trying to survive the apocalypse. I was always looking around every corner, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's nice to just breathe."

"Good for you, man. Retirement is suiting you," Klaus nodded.

"It is nice to get out and just be for a little bit," Karina added, flipping a page.

"Maybe someday we can actually have a proper wedding," Five put in, glancing at her through the rear view mirror.

She smiled softly. "Maybe."

"Oh! Uh…All right!" he jumped and reached down to pull out a map. "So, I've circled all the roadside attractions along the way."

"I'm not sure we're gonna have time-" Klaus hesitated.

"We have the Brownsville Big Nickel. Oh, Ricky's Bakery has award-winning pies."

"Well, if you just let me explain…"

"Or there's this Cow Henge. That's it-don't-"

"Listen to me. Just shut up for two seconds, okay?" Klaus spoke over him loudly.

Five paused some and Karina glanced up, intrigued to hear this.

"Just two seconds? All right?" Klaus requested.

"Okay, I'm all ears," Five rather sarcastically replied, shooting him a look.

"We…are going to Pennsylvania…to find…my birth mother!" Klaus announced. Yay!"

"Excuse me?" Five and Karina both stared at him, stunned.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I just needed somebody or somebodies to come with me for emotional support," Klaus apologized.

"Oh, emotional support, like a Schnauzer?" Five shot.

"Yeah, yeah, and I knew you wouldn't come if I told you, more or less Karina, so what was I supposed to do?"

"You're goddamn right I wouldn't have come, Klaus!" Five scoffed. "You know why? Because I am supposed to be retired!" he rather aggressively continued.

"I know!" Klaus returned.

"Eh, I'm Switzerland in this fight," Karina put in and Klaus snorted.

"This was supposed to be a carefree road trip," Five commented.

"Well, it still can be, babe," Klaus casually returned.

Five eyed a roadside sign. "Ball of Twine? Klaus, turn! Ball of Twine!" he suddenly grabbed the steering wheel. "Turn!"

"What? Five!" Klaus exclaimed.

"Five! You're gonna land us in a ditch, my doll!" Karina cried as the tires on the car screeched and jerked everyone.

"It is one of the best ones! Come on!" Five shouted.

"Five, we're gonna die!" Klaus was freaking out. "Whoo!"

"Five, good Lord, chill out!" Karina told him as he cut off two other cars and they honked at him.

"I don't care, Klaus! Let go!" Five continued. "You know what? No twine, no birth mother!" he declared.

~ * ~

As a result of Five's bold, reckless driving…the three were now standing and staring at the Ball of Twine.

"Yeah, you know. I don't know why, but I thought it'd be a lot bigger," Klaus admitted thoughtfully.

"Seems pretty big to me," Karina shrugged, blushing ever so slightly when she felt Five's fingers lace around hers.

"Ehh. Here's the real question," Five said. "How do you know your birth mother is in Pennsylvania?" he looked at his brother curiously.

"Well, because I was on the ass end of a two-week bender, and I can't tell you the exact date because we were boofing Xanax and the whole business, but Amy Winehouse was at the top of the charts. So that puts us somewhere, where? In the mid to late aughts?" Klaus started the explanation. "I helped myself into Dad's office, looking for the key to his safe 'cause he had Pogo lock up all the stealables. But instead, I found a treasure trove of our family history told in expired check stubs." He paused for a second. "I was too messed up to, uh, do anything about it, too scared to look her up. But always in the back of my mind, I wondered why she sold me off for three grand. I mean, come on, she couldn't have held out for five? Six?"

"You see anything about my mother?" Five was blankly staring at the ball of twine.

"No. Sorry," Klaus was genuinely sorry.

He turned to look at him again, but he was curious. "Why now?"

"Well, duh. Dad disowns us. Grace isn't Grace. Ben's…gone. Now just felt like a good a time as any to find out who I could've been if I didn't grow up in this stupid family," Klaus lamented.

"Well, can you really call what we had a family?" Five pointed out.

"No. It's more like a-" Klaus began.

"…Institute for Snarky Delinquents," Five finished for him and Klaus laughed from that. "And not a good one at that," Five added.

"But what is family? What is it?" Klaus asked. "It's like some kind of giant…ball of twine that can never be untangled."

"A giant ball of obligation I've been pushing uphill my entire life," Five chimed in.

"A giant ball I've hopelessly tried to hold onto and keep together," Karina muttered.

"Yeah. And the older you get, the bigger it gets."

"And the more you try and untangle it…You watch it roll down the hill…you lose it all and can never make it the same again," all three ended in unison.

"And what's the point?!" Klaus exclaimed. He looked at Karina. "What was your family like? I mean, I realize now that we barely know you still. Besides running around trying to stop the end of the world. All I remember is that you fell out of the sky and my brother claimed you to be his wife. Which, honestly, should have been the first sign of the apocalypse because none of us thought he'd even want to get hitched!"

Five smacked him and Karina laughed softly.

"My family? Never really had one. Dad died before I was born. Mom met another guy when I was three. Wasn't long before he showed his true colors and left us painfully colored quite often. No matter what we did, we couldn't ever find an escape from him and Mom was too terrified to even think about calling in help. Then the Handler kidnapped me when I was thirteen and well…we're circling back to what exactly is family?" she sighed.

"For all its worth and brokenness, you're part of ours," Five looked at her. "Sorry, not sorry."

"And hey, I'm glad you came along," Klaus piped up. "Both of you. You're…a good…brother. Oh, and sister-in-law, of course."

Five and Karina both smiled at him, rather touched and honored and appreciative.

"All right, all right. You say nice things about me now," Klaus said.

Five clicked his tongue and patted him on the shoulder. "Eh, let's go find your stupid mother." He took Karina's hand and led her off to the car.

"Love you too, tiny, lovestruck dancer!" Klaus scurried after them.

~ * ~

The three continued on their journey to find Klaus's mother. The road was evenly lined with tall trees. Cows were on one side as a bunch of Amish people went about their day. Klaus parked the car outside a farm and the three got out.

"Son of a bitch. Klaus is Amish!" Five was stunned.

"This explains everything," Klaus commented.

"How does this explain anything?" Karina frowned.

"Because look! Look at this place!" he exclaimed. "This is everything my childhood was missing." He started walking towards the farm.

"Hey, uh, Klaus?" Five rushed after him.

"Yeah?"

"Wait up a minute," he got to his side. "Doppelgänger check. You feel anything strange? Uh, itching, sweats, gas, anything like that?" he had a hold of Klaus's wrist.

"No. No, I feel great. Apart from the old rash on the tackle, but what can you do?"

Five and Karina watched him go.

"All right, good luck," Karina wished him.

Klaus turned to look at the couple. "What? Wait, you're not coming?"

"This one you gotta do alone," Five returned.

He sighed. "Alone? Yeah, okay." He sulked some as he walked off. "Yeah, I can do that, sure."

The two watched him leave and went back to the car. Five drove off to a nearby grassy pasture and parked there.

"Well, this is certainly an interesting road trip," Karina commented, seeing Five join her in the backseat.

"Yeah. Who the hell would have thought Klaus was Amish?" Five whipped out his map again.

"Still thinking about all those attractions?" she flipped open her book.

"I mean, for once Klaus is right. That's what retired married couples do."

"I suppose."

Five sort of sprawled out, letting her lay on him, so the back of her head was resting on his chest. He had an arm slung over her comfortably.

"What if Klaus does find his mother?" Karina spoke up thoughtfully. "Do you think there might be hope to find yours?"

Five sighed. "I don't know. I don't think there is, since those check stubs he came across probably don't exist in this timeline."

"That's unfortunate. You could have found your real mother."

He nodded quietly and then risked the question. "What about yours?"

"Mine?" she glanced up at him but her eyes were glossy. "I…you know what? I hate saying this but, this is a new timeline. I don't feel like she would be my mother in this world." She sighed. "I don't want to accept it, but, I don't want to give myself false hope."

"I'm sorry," he returned softly and guiltily. "I-I know you wanted to see her again and that this was supposed to give you the possibility of reuniting with her."

"It's not your fault. None of us knew Sir Reginald would mess with the timeline like this."

"Yeah," Five mumbled.

The two fell into a comfortable silence for a little bit. Karina ended up falling asleep on him as Five sung along to the radio.

"You don't even know my name. But every time you pass me by, girl, it makes me wanna cry," he was obliviously singing as a wave of energy passed through the air and caused the cows to moo. "It's a cryin' shame," he continued as the distressed mooing caused Karina to stir slightly. "I go inside the-" Five broke off when the energy wave jolted the car.

Karina inhaled sharply, shooting wide awake now. "Five? What was…that…?" she faltered when she saw the now empty field.

"What is.…?" Five strung out when he looked out as well.

The two slowly got out of the vehicle as Five looked around.

"Oh, can't we get one fսcking day off?" both of them complained in unison.

Five whipped out a marker and immediately set to work, scribbling equations all over the car.

"Isn't this technically vandalism?" Karina was helping him.

"The marker's erasable, love of mine. Makes things cleaner," he replied distractedly.

She just clicked her tongue and nodded slowly.

"Five! Karina! Five!" Klaus suddenly screamed in the distance as a huge clamoring crowd of Amish chased him down the hill. "Start the car, would ya?!" He looked back, panicking. "Oh my…shit, shit, shit! Five! Karina, get your husband's attention! Start the car!" He flailed his arms. "Five! Karina! Start the car!"

Karina looked back. "Oh for God's sake, how in the world did he manage to piss off the Amish? Five, my doll, we need to go!"

"Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry!" Klaus fretted, finally closing in on them as Five turned around.

"Why can't you just get along with people, huh?!" he exclaimed as the three raced to get into the car.

"I tried. Really, I did. I tried!" Klaus reached the car door while Five and Karina jumped inside.

"Wait, wait, wait!" an Amish woman cried.

"Hold on a second!" Klaus raced over to her as the Amish crowd continued yelling and running towards them.

"Come on! Get in the car, Klaus!" Karina yelled.

"Klaus, it's now or never! Klaus!" Five added loudly.

Klaus sulked off with the bundle of papers the woman gave him. Five got the car started and drove off to safety.

Klaus flipped through the book. "This whole timeline's chock-full of riddles. Get this. My mom died here before I was even born!"

Five slammed on the brakes, making them screech as he and Karina stared at Klaus.

"What did you just say?!" they both exclaimed.

~ * ~

The three got back to the hotel and burst through the front doors, rushing inside. Allison was at the bar while Viktor and Diego were sitting at a booth.

"Okay, gather round, people," Five announced with a sigh. "Where is-" He looked around confusedly. "Where's every-Where's Luther?"

"Haven't seen him," Allison replied dryly.

"Who knows?" Diego added.

"Anybody know where-okay, you know what? We got bigger problems to worry about right now," Five announced.

"Like what?" Allison remarked.

"This," Five opened up the leather journal to reveal six women.

"Who are they?" Viktor questioned.

Five flipped through the pages. "These are our mothers." He got to a page and Klaus put his hand on it.

"That one's mine," he whispered.

"They're all dead," Five continued. "They all died on the exact same day, October 1st, 1989."

"That's our birthday," Viktor commented.

"Not anymore, it isn't. They all died before we were born."

"That's dumb," Diego jumped in. "If we weren't born, how can we exist?"

"Exactly," Five agreed.

Viktor looked at him. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, when we jumped here, we created a time paradox."

"Not just any paradox," Karina sighed.

"This is the grandfather paradox," Five said seriously.

"What the hell is a grandfather paradox?" Klaus questioned.

~ * ~

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #luther hargreeves #tua #viktor hargreeves #aidan gallagher #tua s3 #tua season 3 #tua five #tua fanfic #tua fandom #lila pitts #number five

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