#(i apologize sincerely) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nadvs · 25 days

Text

out of bounds (part three)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | part two

» masterlist

Zach regrets coming to your cabin last night.

Not because your boss stopped by. Early this morning, he ran into Ruby and she didn’t even mention catching you together after hours. She doesn’t suspect a thing.

He should’ve known that she wouldn’t think he was breaking any rules. He has a reputation for being responsible.

He regrets coming over because now, when he sees you from across the loud dining hall at breakfast, he can’t reign in his rushing thoughts about last night.

You’d stood over him as he sat and his hands were on his knees, nearly brushing against your legs, and it wouldn’t have taken much effort at all to run his palms over your thighs as your fingertips ghosted over his face.

You looking down at him like that, having full control over him, stirred something deep in his core. The way you touched him was innocent, but it made his body tense with desire. You were so close to him, your presence so intoxicating.

He fell asleep thinking about your time alone in your cabin, but instead of remembering the reality of you stepping away, he imagined you straddling him in the chair he was sitting in, pressing your lips against his, and giving him permission to run his hands over your curves.

Zach looks down at his plate. He’s sure he’s blushing. It’s insane how fast his mind has run away from him. His longing for you is starting to feel like a need, like he might feel actual pain if he doesn’t get to touch you in some way.

But it’s not allowed. And besides, if it was, even though you’ve definitely been flirting with him, you might not even like him that much. Maybe if he asked if he could kiss you or touch you, you’d tense up and look at him with distaste. He’d hate to make you feel uncomfortable.

He clears his throat and tries to focus on work. Oliver is actually eating a decent amount for once. He’s still not really talking, but he seems a little more at ease.

Zach has to thank you for helping him figure out that apparently, the kid is very particular about his appetite. He’s excited he’ll have a chance to do so when you run morning drills together.

After breakfast, as scheduled, you approach the west field with your girls following closely behind, listening to them chatter about the weird dreams they had last night.

Seconds later, one of them calls your name.

“Yeah?”

“Who are we running drills with now?”

“Zach’s group,” you say. A couple of girls giggle.

“He’s so cute,” one of them says quietly. You look ahead. They obviously have a crush on him. So do you.

You’re kind of nervous to see him considering how tense things got last night, but when he spots you, he smiles, and it brushes away all your worry.

“About time,” Zach playfully scoffs when you reach him, his campers jogging up and down the pitch.

“What’d you wait, like two minutes?” you reply, dropping the bag of supplies you’re carrying.

“Hi, Zach,” one of your campers sing-songs, earning her friends’ laughter.

“Hi,” he says kindly. “You ready for some passing drills?”

You smile to yourself. He’s totally oblivious to the fact that he has almost every girl on this campground smitten.

After you finish setting up cones and soccer balls across the field, you stand next to Zach at the touchline. As the vet, he takes the lead, shouting instructions to the group of 18 kids.

You glance at him every so often, pretending you’re following along, when really, you’re thinking about last night. Every word and every touch you shared was light and friendly, but it was all over an undercurrent of tension.

You look out at the kids again, reminding yourself that you need to keep things professional, no matter how charming he is.

After the blow of Zach’s whistle, you walk along the line of campers practicing passing, arms crossed as you focus on their footwork. You offer compliments and suggestions as you pace up the field, and minutes later, you join Zach at the side again.

“So, is it working?” he asks. “Do you like soccer again?”

You smile. He remembers how you told him that part of the reason you came to work here was to rekindle your love for the sport.

Even though the job is tiring, you have enjoyed it quite a lot. It’s refreshing seeing kids get excited about soccer the same way you used to. It’s a good reminder of why you started playing.

“Yeah,” you say, your tone soft as you look out at the deep green pitch. “I came to the right place.”

Zach’s eyes trail over your profile. He couldn’t agree more.

A few minutes later, Oliver breaks out of the line and approaches you.

“Hey, buddy,” Zach says. He’s dreading that he’ll tell him he wants to sit out yet again.

“Can I have some water?” he asks. Zach realizes he’s looking up at you, clearly having found some comfort in you.

“Of course,” you say, fishing out a bottle from the cooler. “Did you like the waffles this morning?”

“Yeah,” he says timidly. “Thanks.”

“It was all Zach,” you say. “He’s the one who bought them and got up early to make them. I think you got the best counselor here.”

Oliver looks up at Zach with a small smile. It’s the first look of genuine happiness he’s seen on the boy’s face. After he drinks water, he rushes back out onto the field.

“I didn’t mean it,” you tease Zach. “You’re the worst.”

He laughs and resists the urge to playfully push your shoulder. Getting close to you is a bad idea, because he’ll only want more.

“You’re good with kids,” he says. He can’t help but think about you meeting his sister. He knows she’d like you. “Pretty sure that’s the first time he smiled since he got here.”

You were expecting him to tease you back, so the sincere compliment throws you. You meet his eyes, feeling the same sense of easy compatibility you felt last night.

The morning sun washes over his features in its orange glow. He’s so handsome that you almost forget you shouldn’t be staring.

“So, I’m better at this job than you are?” you say.

“Okay, whoa,” he replies. “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“Did not.”

You share a moment of laughter, but once it fades, you don’t look away from each other. Your heart starts to speed up like it always does when he gazes at you.

It feels like an elephant in the room, what happened the last time you spoke, and you desperately want to clear the air.

“Everything good after last night? You seemed…” You don’t want to use the word nervous. And upset doesn’t feel right, either. You decide not to finish the sentence. “Did you talk to Ruby?”

“She didn’t think anything was up,” he tells you. You sigh in relief, glad your jobs and reputations aren’t in jeopardy. “I mean, not that anything was up.”

You slowly nod, not sure how to take his words. Maybe it really was all in your head. Maybe your feelings are totally unrequited.

Zach catches the way your lips twist. He immediately feels anxious. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. And he definitely doesn’t want you to think he feels nothing for you.

“I mean,” he stammers, “that’s not what I mean.”

His muscles lose some tension when he sees you crack a smile.

“So, what do you mean?” you ask.

Zach looks down, digging the tip of his sneaker into the grass simply to have something to do as nerves fill his body. You have a ridiculous effect on him.

“Just that we weren’t breaking any rules.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “But, uh, if there was a rule I’d break…”

Your skin flushes, butterflies going wild in your stomach. He’s saying it without saying it.

“Same,” you reply. His gaze darts up to you. A pink hue spreads over his cheeks.

You both just indirectly confessed your feelings for one another and there’s nothing you can do about it. You blink a few times as you gaze at him.

“God,” he mutters with a half-laugh. “Don’t do that.”

“I literally didn’t do anything.”

“You’re…” He sighs and crosses his arms. “Looking at me like that.”

You tear your eyes off of him, stifling your smile.

“Like a coworker, you mean?” you reply. “Professionally?”

He laughs again, unsure of how the hell he’s going to last the rest of the camp season wanting a girl and knowing she wants him back and having to pretend like none of that’s true.

After the passing drill, you work on defense with your campers while Zach works on offense with his, then switch. For the last drill, you set up games of two-on-two.

You’re winded when you’re behind the touchline again, having run a drill with every girl in your group in quick succession. You’re downing water when Zach jogs up to you.

“Hey, your…” he says, pointing down. “I’ll just do it.”

In a second, he’s on his knee in front of you, tying your loose shoelace. You swallow your water, looking down, wondering how nice it’d feel to have your fingers in his tousled hair.

“Thank you,” you say, still a bit breathless.

He looks up with a smile. Your stares linger and then he straightens, standing beside you. And you’re supposed to keep your distance from this man? It’ll be impossible.

The rest of the day is a tiring blur. After dinner, you find Ami to remind her that you’re on one of the overnight shifts, so if she wants to see Malcolm after hours, your cabin will be free.

You only really do it for Zach’s sake so that he doesn’t get kicked out of his cabin again. Before you head over to one of the girls’ cabins to sleep, you text him: just so you know, i made sure ami knows i’m on an overnight so if she needs an empty cabin tonight, it won’t be yours.

Zach replies a few minutes later: You’re the best.

Then, a second text from him comes in: Professionally.

Over the next few days, your encounters with Zach are quick and friendly. He’s keeping his distance just like you are, avoiding any opportunity to have time alone.

It’s not until Friday afternoon, day seven of camp, that you’re scheduled to work another drill together.

When you meet Zach at the pitch, you’re endeared to see that Oliver is actually talking with him. As you approach, directing your girls to line up for a dribbling drill, you overhear them talking about video games.

“You can’t even get past the second one?” Oliver says.

“Does it count if my sister helps?”

“No!”

“Then, no,” Zach replies.

“But it’s so easy,” he says. “And you’re so old.”

“Alright, ten laps just for that,” Zach jokes. Oliver laughs and you smile to yourself.

“You are old,” you say to Zach when you approach them at the touchline.

“We’re the same age,” he replies.

“That’s irrelevant,” you say, then look to Oliver. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” he says. “We saw a badger yesterday. He was huge.”

“I hope he didn’t get too close.”

“Zach didn’t let us chase him,” Oliver complains.

“Probably a good thing,” you giggle, your eyes flitting up to meet Zach’s gaze.

You smile at him and even though it’s only been a few days since you had a proper conversation, he really misses seeing that smile.

Your campers settle into their own drills before merging, giving you and Zach a chance to chat privately.

“He’s really opened up,” you say, standing next to him.

“Yeah. He’s still not talking much with any of the other kids, but we talk all the time.”

“Baby steps,” you say, smiling as you watch Oliver practicing backheel kicks with another boy.

“I asked him if he’s making any friends, but he didn’t really answer,” Zach says. “I have a bad feeling they’re being rough on him and I don’t see it. I hope I’m wrong.”

“I hope you’re wrong, too,” you say sadly.

Zach gazes at you again, heart pinching from the way you frown at the thought.

“Tomorrow should be fun,” he says, changing the subject. “It’s a good break for us.”

You nod. Saturdays at camp are dedicated to fun instead of training, with plans to have a barbecue lunch by the lake, where campers will be free to swim and canoe.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you say. “Oh, have you been kicked out of your cabin lately?”

“I gave Malcolm a cut-off,” Zach tells you. “So, if he does need the place, there’s a time limit. Felt like a decent enough compromise.”

You’re glad he’s not having issues with his friend, but you do sort of wish he had an excuse to visit you when your cabin-mates are hooking up.

“Good,” you say simply.

Zach’s smile is tight, knowing you’re just trying to keep a professional distance like he is. But this sucks.

He refocuses on work.

“I was thinking of doing a round of Four Goal,” Zach says, pointing at the field. You nod, well acquainted with the games at this point, but still appreciative you get paired with vets for the support.

“But, they’ve been doing a lot of possession drills lately,” he adds. “Maybe Airball would be better.”

You glance at him to see the same pensive expression you’ve seen before. His indecisiveness is so cute.

“I can decide for you,” you say. He smirks, thinking back to that night in your cabin.

“Have I told you that you’re bossy?” he says.

“You have,” you reply, tapping his name-tag. “We’re playing Four Goal.”

“Deal,” he says with a chuckle, appreciative of how quick you are to choose. “You wanna take the lead?”

“Sure,” you say.

Before you can blow your whistle to get everyone’s attention, two of your campers come to grab water. You can tell by the way they’re eyeing Zach that they came solely to talk to him.

“Hey, Zach?” one of your girls says just loud enough to be heard over the shouting on the field.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

You’ve never been so glad that some preteen girls can be so unabashed, curious to hear how he’ll answer this.

“No way. There’s no time for girlfriends,” he says. “I’m married to this beautiful sport.” You smile, admiring how appropriately he handles the kid’s intrusive question.

Both girls giggle and rush back into the field.

“You realize that like, all the girls have a crush on you, right?” you laugh.

Before you step forward to call over all the campers on the field, Zach can’t hold himself back from flirting with you.

“I only care about if one girl has a crush on me,” he says quietly.

Your lips quirk into another smile.

“She does,” you say.

Zach purses his lips, blushing again.

You call over the campers and set up the game of Four Goals quickly. Within minutes, four teams are scattered across the field, attacking and defending goals.

You pace up and down the field on one side while Zach supervises in the other direction. Moments later, he raises his voice in a way you haven’t heard before.

“I don’t want to hear it again,” he says sharply to two boys. You realize that Oliver is standing to the side, arms crossed, looking down, and you rush over.

“We were just kidding,” one of the boys whines.

When you get close enough, you see Oliver’s eyes welling with tears, surely from whatever the boys said to him. It makes your heart ache instantly. You approach him and lead him off the field.

“You weren’t,” Zach says behind you. “That’s unacceptable.”

You lead Oliver to the main office, curious as to what was said, but not wanting to push.

You trained for this. In times of conflict between campers, one counselor should address the problem, and the other should separate the kids involved.

“You okay?” you ask softly, crouching down to his eye-level. Oliver only leans against you, sniffling. You gently pat his shoulder, letting him cry for as long as he needs to.

You confirm with Zach over the walkies that you’ll meet in the dining hall for dinner. When you make it to the building, you see him settle at the head of his table, clearly having instructed the two boys who were in trouble earlier to sit right next to him.

You ask Oliver where he’d prefer to sit. He tells you he wants to be at your table. Zach flashes you a small, grateful smile once he sees you sitting with Oliver, who keeps his head down, acting just like he did when he first got here.

Zach approaches Oliver as dinner wraps up and while you hang out with Ami by the dock during free-time, Zach sits next to Oliver at the campfire. You’re relieved when you see Oliver finally smiling again.

After lights out, Zach leaves his cabin to sit on the dock for some time alone. Minutes later, his phone buzzes with a text from you: i hope everything’s ok.

He looks up at the starry sky, wishing he could shake the heaviness sitting on his shoulders. Something that he lived through years ago was dug up today, a pale memory made fresh and cutting.

He never liked the discomfort that came with negative emotions and bad memories. It’s why he prefers to focus on having fun in the here and now.

But when he does find himself in this hole, he typically isolates himself, feeling like a burden for being anything but happy, so it’s jarring that while he doesn’t let many people see this part of him, he thinks about you sitting next to him right now.

You’re relaxing in your cabin when Zach texts you: Can you come to the dock?

The evening air is cool when you step outside. As you approach the lake, you see Zach’s broad frame in the distance, sitting at the end of the dock.

You settle beside him on the hard cedar wood, noticing that his work clothes have been swapped out for sweats and a t-shirt.

“Hi,” you say over the sound of the lake lapping against the rocks lining the shore and crickets chirping around you.

“Hey.” His eyes meet yours. They don’t have the brightness you’re used to seeing in them.

In any other scenario, you’d be worried about what sitting next to each other like this looks like to anyone who might see. But Zach’s clearly unhappy and the last thing you’re thinking about is your job right now.

“What happened?” you ask, replaying how sternly he snapped at his campers just a couple of hours ago.

Zach sighs and shakes his head, looking out at the lake.

“They were giving him crap for being shy,” he mumbles. “Calling him mute and mocking him, asking if he even knows how to talk. They didn’t know I was close enough to hear.”

Your forehead crinkles, your heart aching for Oliver all over again.

“Thanks for removing him from all that,” Zach tells you.

“Of course. I wish I could’ve done more,” you say. “He wouldn’t tell me anything, so I let him hug me until he stopped crying.”

“He just needed someone to be there,” Zach says. “And you were.”

You find relief in his words.

“He looked like he was feeling much better when you were by the fire,” you say, hoping to console him.

Zach nods gratefully and looks up at the crescent moon.

“Kids can be harsh,” he tells you. “Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, there’s bullying here. It sucks.”

He breathes out slowly, linking his fingers together. He’s in his head again. In the past. The bitter pain he’s feeling right now is another version of what he felt when he was a kid.

“He needs all the support he can get,” Zach says. “And you’ve been trying to help him since he came here. He’s not even in your group. You didn’t have to do all that, but you did.”

From the tone of his voice, you can tell he’s building up to something. He keeps his gaze fixed ahead, the moon and stars reflecting over the smooth plane of water.

Zach thinks back to the way you approached Oliver at breakfast on the second day of camp. He couldn’t make out your conversation, but he saw the pure kindness in your expression.

“I came here when I was a kid because my parents didn’t know what to do with me,” he admits. “I had no interests. No friends. I was really quiet and really shy.”

You tilt your head, your throat tight. You can’t imagine happy, outgoing Zach being anything but the life of the party like he is now.

“Kids at school would say the same kind of stuff to me that they said to Oliver today,” Zach explains.

He clenches his jaw as he thinks about the way he used to feel on the playground, being berated by other boys and pretending like he didn’t hear them.

“I’m so sorry,” you say quietly.

“I’m such a buzzkill,” he says with a humorless chuckle. “I just - I’m telling you this so you know that when you try to make a kid feel welcome, it makes a difference. Thank you for everything you do for him.”

Zach finally looks at you, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“My aunt and uncle ran this camp for as long as I can remember. My mom called them the summer I turned eleven, asking if they had space for me here. She just wanted me to find a hobby, you know? Something I liked. Even though I had no interest in sports at all.”

“But you ended up loving it,” you realize, a small smile growing on your face. The night you met, he said something about how he owed this place a lot. Now you know why.

“I did,” he says with a nod. “Don’t get me wrong, a lot of my teachers tried to make me feel better, but it never worked. Here… I belonged. I came out of my shell. People were nice to me. I fell in love with soccer and it’s why I come back every year.”

You don’t have the words to express how touching it is that he decided to share this with you, so you gently grip his forearm, stroking his soft skin with your thumb.

Then, you pull away, because now, the need to keep things strictly friendly is a thousand times heavier.

He doesn’t follow rules simply because of his tenure or because the directors are his family. It’s because of the impact they had, pulling him out of a dark place as a child. He probably feels like he owes them the world. He has a reputation, and a responsibility, to uphold.

“I’m so happy for you that you found this place,” you say. “And you help him, too, okay? A lot. Everything you did just to get him a breakfast he’d like is evidence enough.”

Zach breathes a quiet chuckle, his brows drawing together.

“Thanks, newbie,” he says.

“I’m sure it was really shitty hearing that stuff today,” you empathize. “Especially here. I’m sorry.”

He nods. You get how painful it is for him to see the beauty of this place be sullied. You get how important it is to be there for the kids who are outsiders.

He hates this walk down memory lane. While he doesn’t regret opening up, he needs a break from the tension, to come back to the present.

“You didn’t have to stop,” he says, eyes drifting to his forearm, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

You laugh, putting your palm on Zach’s skin again. He feels like he’s floating. He loves being touched and wants nothing more than to be touched by you.

“I don’t know how professional we’re being right now,” you say with a giggle.

“You kidding?” he says. “This is the definition of professional.”

Zach’s eyes wash over your face, looking at you like he’s in awe. He’s so happy that he met you and so frustrated that it had to be while you both live in the confines of workplace rules.

“In six weeks,” he says, “when the season’s over, what do you think about getting dinner with me?”

“It’s a date,” you say.

Another moment of peaceful quiet settles between you. He parts his lips to say something else, but no words come out.

“What?” you ask.

Zach sighs slowly, shaking his head ever so slightly. He runs his tongue between his lips. His stare drifts to your mouth. He feels completely helpless in the best way.

Slowly, he brings his hand up to your jaw, cradling your cheek so warmly and gently that your breath catches.

“Can I?” His voice is low and raspy, just loud enough to be heard over the crickets.

Even though you promised each other you wouldn’t do this, you couldn’t turn down his kiss if you tried.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His lips are soft and warm, pressing against yours with such sweet tenderness that your body goes numb. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re afraid you won’t be able to stop.

Zach pulls back, his nose nudging against yours.

“We should stop,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he says. “We should.”

But you lean in to kiss him again, your lips slowly parting, tongues meeting, tasting each other. You separate.

“This is a bad idea,” you whisper.

“Mhm.”

He kisses you for a third time, your lips smacking together with hunger and impatience. His body is on fire, never having wanted somebody this badly.

“Zach,” you say, finally finding the willpower to sit up, losing all contact with him. “We can’t. It’s too risky.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “I know.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Now that you know his history, you care more about him keeping his job than you do your own. “Six weeks. That’s all.”

“Fuck,” he whispers with a dry laugh. “That feels like forever.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard him swear and it’s unexpectedly attractive. You shuffle a few inches away from him, catching your breath, and take in his strong features in the moonlight, wishing you could go back to his cabin or yours and continue this.

“It does,” you agree, your eyes trained on him.

“You have to promise me you won’t look at me like that at work,” Zach says, his tone light. “For real.”

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say. “But you know what? I won’t look at you at all. How’s that?”

You stare forward at the gentle ripples in the water, your lips still warm from his kiss.

“That’s worse,” he says with a hint of a whine in his voice.

“There’s no winning with you,” you laugh.

You look over your shoulder, making sure nobody is around to witness you two alone like this.

“You can go if you’re worried,” he says after a moment.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek before you stand. He watches you disappear off the dock, leaving him with a yearning he’s never had to bear before.

When Zach lies in bed that night, replaying how mind-blowing it felt to kiss you, he accepts the fact that the rest of the season will be torture. Six weeks does in fact feel like an eternity.

The summer heat is harsh the next morning, perfect for a day at the lake. Counselors lead their campers to the water after breakfast, not backing down when some kids inevitably argue that they don’t need life jackets.

When you spot Oliver alone, throwing rocks in the water, you imagine Zach at his age, dealing with bullies, feeling lost and alone.

You approach him, exchanging kind hello’s, and an idea strikes you. One of your campers, Jemma, is one of the chattiest and kindest kids you’ve ever met.

“What do you think about going out on the canoe with me and Jemma?” you ask Oliver, pointing to the girl as she rifles through inflated toys. “She’s very nice.”

“Sure,” he says quietly.

When you ask Jemma if she’d like to go with you two, as expected, she happily accepts.

You lead conversation between them as you set out on the canoe, but Jemma soon dives into asking Oliver questions. His answers are short, but it doesn’t faze her, allowing her to ramble to her heart’s delight.

Every so often, you catch a smile on Oliver’s face, clearly happy he’s not expected to talk a lot. Eventually, his answers to her questions get longer, and he starts asking her things, too.

When you dock the boat about ten minutes later, you look up to see Zach leaning forward, holding the brim of the canoe against the dock, meeting your eyes.

“Why are you stealing my friend?” Zach asks you, nodding to Oliver.

“He’s my friend, too,” you reply, looking at the boy. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he says with a smile.

“Mine, too!” Jemma exclaims. Your heart warms when you see Oliver blush.

Once Zach helps the kids out of the boat, they run off together in their matching bright-orange life jackets.

“How’d you do that?” Zach says.

You smile, taking his hand as he helps you step up onto the dock. Just last night, you were kissing right where you’re standing. You quickly pull your hand back so nobody suspects anything.

“It was a long shot,” you tell him, “but it seems it worked.”

Zach smirks, feeling his chest tighten as he stares at you. Staying away from you is ridiculously hard.

“You think anybody would notice if I kissed you right now?” he asks quietly, heavy-lidded eyes travelling over your face.

You laugh and look around at the crowds of campers and counselors surrounding the lake.

“Think so,” you reply. “You can kiss me in six weeks.”

“Six weeks,” he echoes with a sigh.

Tom fires up the grill outside the dining hall as counselors help set up for a lunch picnic. Zach’s close by, bumping against you as he puts out stacks of paper plates. He keeps his eyes low, but you can tell by his dimpled smirk that he’s touching you on purpose.

As you pass by a table to move the cooler, a few kids playing tag dart by you, tripping you up and causing you to lose your balance.

You involuntarily yelp when you feel a sharp sting on your arm, realizing you just made direct contact with the scalding barbecue hood.

“Come on, guys!” Zach calls tersley. “Look where you’re going!”

You look down at the underside of your forearm, blowing on the burn.

“You alright?” Tom asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll go run it under some cold water.”

Zach wishes he could follow, but it’d be too obvious.

You reassure your coworkers that you’re okay when you come back, loud enough to make sure Zach hears you. You’re still flattered by his protective reaction.

After lunch, the kids go back to their day of fun, most of them swimming. Dinner is quieter than usual, likely because the campers are so tired out.

Once lights out hits, you’ve never been happier to be done with the day. You enter your cabin, which is dark and quiet because Ami has already settled across the campground for her overnight shift.

You sigh in relief once you’re in the shower, washing away the sweat and grime of the day, planning to do nothing but rest tonight. The burn on your arm stings under the water, so you do your best to keep it dry.

You’re lounging in bed in your empty cabin, still in your towel, when you hear a knock at the door.

You open it to see Zach standing there, his hair wet, his college t-shirt draped over his wide shoulders as he holds out something in his hand.

“Just thought I’d…” Zach’s eyes travel down your body. He’s never seen this much of your skin, the towel offering a view of your cleavage and your bare legs. “Uh…”

“Yeah?” you laugh.

“This,” he says. He holds out a small tube of cooling gel. “For your burn. It was in the kitchen’s first aid kit.”

“Thank you,” you say, taking the tube. “That’s sweet of you. It still hurts a little.”

You look down at your forearm as Zach rests a hand on the doorframe, leaning over as he stares at you. You feel warm from the way he towers over you, gazing at you in pure desperation.

You shouldn’t invite him in. It’s a risk. There would be no going back. But the way he looks so hungry for you, the way he smells like fresh laundry and strong body wash is so painfully enticing.

His heartbeat is loud in his ears. He’s still processing a lot. How good your lips felt against his last night. How angry he was when you got hurt earlier today. And now, how very close to being completely naked you are. This is absolutely impossible.

He’s looked at you this way before, but this is a new level of intensity, making your skin prick with excitement. The thoughts of what could happen if he came in rush through your mind.

“Why do I feel like we won’t make it to six weeks?” you say meekly.

“We gave it a solid effort,” he says.

“It’s been one day,” you laugh.

“And do you have idea how hard that day’s been for me?” Zach says, making you laugh again. “We’ll just do a really good job keeping it a secret. If you want to.”

You smile again. But, you can’t do it.

“We shouldn’t,” you force yourself to say.

He nods, trying to hide how sad he is.

“Right. Yeah,” Zach says as he steps back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you reply. “I just… I would hate it if you got fired because of me.”

“If I got fired, it’d be my fault. Not yours.” His lips curl in nervousness before he says his next words. “And you’re worth the risk.”

Your eyes are hard on each other, both of you fully aware that you’re close to teetering into dangerous territory.

Finally, you say the words that he’s been aching to hear.

“You want to keep it a secret?” you say.

“Yeah. Do you?”

You nod, your eyes wide.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

You glance past him into the dark to make sure nobody else is witnessing the second you officially lose all of your willpower.

“Come in,” you say.

(part four)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#and i sincerely apologize for ending it there #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader

179 notes · View notes