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jawllines · 4 years

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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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weirdthinkingdragon · 4 years

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Welcome To The Family (1/???)

Yandere EraserMic household x reader

Finally decided to start writing it! I’ve never babysat in my life, so if this is incredibly wrong I’m sorry. No warnings for now. No idea how many chapters this is going to be right now, but for sure at least 3-5.

I’m on my way to babysit two new children. Well, a child and later in the day a teenager when they get back from school. It’s beyond astonishing somehow being the one selected to babysit two children of heroes. They’re adopted, but that makes it all the more strange. I can’t complain much though. They’re paying a rather large amount and asked me to keep quiet about it. I have to go there early in the morning and be there most of the day. They also warned me some days I may have to babysit them longer than others. They did also warn me a few of their students may come by to hang out with Eri for a bit.

My fist knocks on the door four times. Yamada- hopefully, I remembered who is who correctly- opens it. He lets me in with a giant and welcoming smile on his face. In the living room were the other three. Eri, and the other which must be Shinsou, look at me cautiously. Eri hides a bit behind the black-haired adult while Shinsou seems rather watchful and wary of me. I crouch down to her level but stay a bit away to introduce myself. “You must be Eri. I’ve heard a lot about you. My name’s Y/N. I hope to get along with you.” This is true, I’ve been informed by the two about what she has been through.

The black-haired man confirms with a small nod down to her as she looks up at him. Whatever that was supposed to be about, it helped make her take a step away from him and look at me more.

Aizawa- hopefully, I’m still correct- looks at the clock. “We need to go now.” the blond nods and leaves for their rather expensive-looking black car. Aizawa leaves as well. Shinsou glares at me one last time before he starts to head towards the door as well. “Don’t do anything you will regret.” He threatens and leaves too.

Eri sits on the couch still timidly staring at me. To say it felt awkward between us is an understatement. “So, Eri, would you like to show me your favorite toys? Or maybe there’s a show you really like we could watch for a while?” Like a lightswitch, her eyes light up like she was just told she could have all the candy in the world. She then takes off up the stairs for presumably her bedroom. I wait in the living room for her return. I take a moment to examine the living room better. There are hardly any pictures on the walls. There’s only one with the four of them and a bunch of teens. Must be his class. They look like a chaotic and lively bunch. The light gray couch is in the middle of the living room with a large flat screen T.V. in front of it. To the left of the couch and a little behind is a matching gray loveseat with a giant cat tree between it and the wall. Huh, so they have a cat or possibly two. Surprised they’re not in the living room. The black stand under the T.V. matches the coffee table in front of it. There’s a door straight from the main entrance I entered from. My guess is either a bathroom or the kitchen. Next to it is a flight of stairs that Eri went up. That must lead to the bedrooms. There’s another door next to the stairs. A closet maybe? Or maybe another bedroom.

Eri comes down a few minutes later with five stuffed animals in her arms. A green rabbit with matching green eyes, a brown teddy bear with beady eyes, a blue galaxy patterned fox with turquoise eyes, a yellow dog with blue eyes, and a cute tiny light gray unicorn with glittery pink eyes. It looks like her and seems like her favorite with how it seems a little worn. They’re all so adorable that I think my heart might have melted.

“Aw, what are their names?” She proudly holds them up and says their names. The one that got me was “Deku”. Doesn’t that mean useless? How would a child know that term? More importantly, how are the adults allowing her to name it that?

“Deku? Why is it named that?”

“He saved me. I wanted a stuffed animal like him!” She cheerfully says. I’m not going to question why they chose that name.

“They sound like amazing people! I can’t wait to meet them someday!” She smiles at me. It quickly becomes sad instead. “But I won’t be going to the school with them anymore…”

I try to think of how to make her feel better. Those two must be the ones her fathers warned me will come over at some point. “Well, maybe I could ask your parents if they can come over someday after school.” She enthusiastically nods.

It grows quiet between us again as she holds her stuffed animals.

I look back at the cat tree. “I see you have a cat tree. Do you know where the cat is?”

“We have three!” she cheerfully informs.

“Three? Wow! I bet they keep you safe, huh?” I question. She shrugs. “Mochi is too big to even jump on the bed.”

“Mochi? Cute name!”

“Mrow” came a sudden voice from the cat tree. There’s a box part on the floor I somehow missed earlier. A rather fat cat saunters out of it. “Mochi!” Eri cheerfully yells and goes over to it. It’s an orange tabby. She tries to pick him up and miraculously succeeds. It’s so comical I can’t help but laugh. A child carrying a cat that’s almost as big as her. She waddles over with it and places them on the couch between us. They just yawn, stretch, and lie down right where they were plopped. They roll over to show their belly. I rub the belly of it. How could I not? Once again, it doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.

“What are the names of the other two?” I ask.

“Sundae and Oreo! They’re brothers!”

“Are they as big as Mochi?” She shakes her head. “No. My dads went to buy things that feed the cats when we are not home.”

“That’s good! Maybe later we could try finding the other two and have a tea party or something.” She looked like she was nearly screaming in excitement at the news. “Only one of my dads likes to do tea parties with me.”

I smile. “Well, now you have two that do!”

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Many hours later, she decided she wanted to do the tea party. We were able to find the other two cats which were sleeping on her dads’ bed. Eri told me they were in there since I didn’t go in there out of respect. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring a dress or suit to change into for her. I’ll have to remember that for next week so I can do it when not babysitting.

Oreo and Sundae were rather difficult to settle down into chairs around the table. They’re tuxedos and an easy way to tell which is who is apparently the white eyebrows on Oreo that makes him look always angry. We just gave up when they decided to sit on the table instead of the chairs.

The tea set is a pastel green with interesting shiny gold lines decorating it. It’s a great contrast to the small dark red table it’s on in her room. She has tons of drawings with her, Shinsou, and the two adults covering her walls. There’s also a few with a green-haired and blond with her. There is nothing in the teacups as she passes one to me. “Why, thank you, Eri!” She smiles and nods. That smile needs to be protected.

It’s hard to think someone could do something so evil to such an innocent bean. I’m beyond glad she’s in a much better home now. I’ve only known her for like half a day, but if something were to happen to her, I’d kill everyone around me and then myself. She looks behind me and lights up more. “Toshi!”

I turn around to see Shinsou leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed and a glare aimed at me. How long has he been there? Man, he’s incredibly quiet. I understand why he doesn’t trust me yet. I’m still a stranger after all. It would be more concerning if he did trust me immediately. I give him an inviting smile. “Welcome, Shinsou! Why don’t you come to our tea party instead of standing there? I’m sure Eri would be more than happy to have her brother join!”

“Yes! C’mon Toshi, please?” She begs. He shakes his head. “You two go ahead. I’d rather watch for now.” He says, hardening his glare at me. Eri doesn’t seem to notice his glare and goes back to her chair. How cute though, a protective brother! She deserves nothing less.

After that, she wanted to show me her favorite show. Shinsou sits rather close to her between us. Seems a bit excessive, but whatever makes him comfortable I guess. Checking the clock above the T.V., it was almost time for me to go.

Shinsou goes to the bathroom, but something tells me he’s testing me. I mean, I didn't do anything before he came home, and wouldn’t Eri have already run to him if I did do something? Well, with the villains around you can’t be so sure.

Eri swings her feet while sitting farther up on the couch. “Are you going to come back tomorrow?”

“Of course! We still have so many things we have to do together!” I reach over and go to rub her head. She flinches so I take my hand away and think for a moment. How can I get her to trust me without any problems occurring? “Hey, Eri?” She looks at me again with trust, yet a hint of unease still in her eyes. Please don’t tell me I just royally screwed up. “How about this. I do to myself what I’m going to do to you, and you can allow it or not. Like this.” I say, and gently rub the top of my head. I bring my hand halfway to her and wait for her reply.

It takes a moment, but she gives me a small nod. I rub her head, making her give a big smile to me.

At that moment, the door opened to reveal the two men. They were tense as we locked eyes, but that went away when they noticed Eri was smiling at me.

“Welcome back you guys! Eri and I had so much fun today. She even brought me to her tea party! Your cats gave us quite a bit of trouble to involve them though.” I inform as Eri goes to hug Yamada and then Aizawa right after.

Shinsou comes into the room as well. Like a silent conversation, he gives a curt nod to Aizawa, which he returns.

Yamada smirks at me. “But what’s important is… Did ya succeed?”

I shrug. “Kind of. We got them to stay on the table instead of the chair.” He snickers. “That’s those devious two!” He looks down at Eri. “Ya must have had a lotta fun, huh? Sad to miss the party!”

I decide to leave so they get more time as a family before they have to go to bed. I don’t need to interfere with that. I wave to her as I go to the door and put on my shoes. “See you tomorrow, Eri!” She waves back, shocking the two adults. Wonder why they’re shocked about that. Maybe she doesn’t usually trust new people as fast? Well, I’ve always been pretty good with children.

I wave at the three men as well and leave excited for what tomorrow might bring.

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I have rather big plans for this story. Hopefully I keep up with it, and I promise it will get better later on.

#EraserMic household #yandere present mic #yandere eraserhead #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere x reader #yandere mha x reader #welcome to the family

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 3 years

Note

U kno what I'm thinking about, demonrry sitting in the dark on angels birthday for like hours waiting for her to return all because he wants to be a dramatic lil shit

He’s just sitting on the ground, sulking in nothing but his underwear and fuzzy socks, wearing a birthday hat and blowing a party horn sadly.

‘You’re pathetic.’ Onyx’s voice rumbles in his head, full of cruel amusement.

‘It’s like watching an episode of Naked and Afraid.’ Nimbus’ higher pitch chimes in, a cackle following his insult.

Harry spits out the celebration prop in his mouth, brows furrowing as he snaps at his dogs aloud, well aware that they can hear him from downstairs. “Shut up before I cast you back to Hell.”

Onyx ignores his threat, continuing to badger him. ‘Why are you being so dramatic? She’ll be back in a few hours.’

“I miss her. I always have to wait to celebrate her birthday after it’s over.”

‘So? At least you get to do it. Just because it’s late doesn’t make it any less meaningful.’ Nimbus reasons easily, and Harry sometimes wonders how a hellhound can be so wise while simultaneously being a top tier dickhead. But then again, they say a dog is a direct reflection of its owner; like father, like son.

“Just let me throw a fit in peace.” Harry grumbles begrudgingly, fiddling with the gold foil tassels hanging off the end of the cardboard toy. “I deserve it.”

‘People are dying, Kim.’ Onyx quips sarcastically, and Harry almost laughs at the pop culture reference. It’s pretty amazing how quickly his dogs have taken to the 21st century ideals— he figured they’d struggle a bit to adapt since they rarely visit above-ground, but a few episodes of reality television and access to drama channels on YouTube appears to have done them well.

“I just want her to see the cake I made her, okay? I worked really hard on it!”

‘The longer she goes without seeing it, the better. It looks like shit.’ Onyx taunts.

Harry groans in exasperation, chucking the party blower at the wall in a futile (and humiliating) attempt at making an exaggerated statement. “It’s not my fault I ran out of baking powder!”

‘Well, the cake looks like it went through a landslide. I say you just chuck it in the bin and buy one at Publix.’ The other mutt suggests, his tone taking on a dreamy hue. ‘Get vanilla bean with raspberry filling. I like that one.’

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion. Just leave me alone and go sniff each other’s arses.”

‘Oh, and do meringue instead of regular frosting!’ His brother tacks on excitedly. ‘It’s fluffier and not overly sweet.’

The demon blinks at the ground, mildly stunned. “How do you two know all this?”

‘Zumbo’s Just Desserts.’ The hounds answer in unison.

Harry scoffs in disbelief. “You’re a pair of the most lethal predators in the world and you spend your free time watching Food Network?”

‘And you’re one of Lucifer’s most renowned demons, not to mention a likely candidate to become the next Prince of Hell, but you’re sitting here decorating cakes with pink hearts and blubbering like a clingy idiot, all on behalf of an angel. Not the pot calling the kettle black.’

The young man purses his lips pettily. “Touché.”

‘Exactly. And what else are we supposed to do?’ Onyx argues hotly. ‘You won’t let us hunt anymore!’

“Because last time, you almost killed the neighbor’s cat.”

‘How were we supposed to know cats are off limits?!’

“Common sense. It had a collar and a name tag.”

‘And an attitude. Muffin had it coming.’

#demon!harry

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thrndlngs · 3 years

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ this is how you fall in love, e. kirishima.

v part one. ❝ VODKA SPRITES.

previously on, TISHYFIL. next on, TISHYFL.

author’s note: this was such a long chapter, hopefully you guys don’t mind this. this is the chapter that makes ur friendship with kiri u know spice up a little. this takes place in the club, so there’s drinking, suggestive comments + etc.

“YOU LOOK NICE,” TODOROKI COMPLIMENTED you as he held the car door open for you, gesturing for you to enter before entering his side. you aren’t sure how the ‘beach day/movie night’ had shifted into a literal club night but - you wouldn’t miss the chance for one last ‘hurrah’ with your high school friends. besides, todoroki did manage to get the VIP section at the infamous downtown club - so did you really have any room to complain?

“who do you think is going to have get helped out of the club tonight?” you asked, turning your attention to your friend as he cants his head in thought.

“it depends, i have my money on sero and tetsu,”

“really? you don’t think kaminari? like, at all?”

“not this time, he’ll be to busy dancing with jirou that he won’t even remember there’s alcohol.”

“huh, i didn’t even think of that. now that the cat’s out of the bag he’s a little bit more..” you trail off, looking for the right words as todoroki finds himself chuckling.

“openly affectionate?”

“yeah. i’m happy for them though. i think they balance each other out,” you added, turning to admire the view of the city, even sticking your hand out to let the wind go through your fingers.

“have you found someone tobalance out with yet?”

“not yet. i mean, i like someone, yes but.. i don’t want to like, ruin our friendship in the process y’know?”

“so you’re going to suffer in silence for all eternity?” todoroki asked and you almost think he’s joking but, his facial expression said otherwise.

“i mean - not for eternity but, for a while yes. i just, like, are my feelings really worth ruining that friendship?”

“you don’t know if it’ll ruin the friendship though.”

“yes i do.”

“no, you really don’t,” he begins, pulling the car into the valet lane as he turns to you with an unreadable expression. “look, if you’ve never listened to anything i’ve ever told you, you need to listen to me now. got it?”

it’s not like he’s really giving you a choice here, so, you simply nod and try your best to muster the best ‘you got it’ smile you possibly could. both tenya and shoto were your best friends and you loved them both but tenya had shoto beat in the advice department by a long shot.

“you’re not a clairvoyant and you’re definitely not a fifteen year old who can’t deal with the fact that her crush doesn’t like her back. so this is what you’re going to do alright? you’re going to go up to him, tell him how you feel and deal with whatever happens after. or you can suffer for the rest of eternity dealing with the immense amount of guilt of not telling your high school crush that you didn’t like him. your choice.”

and with that, he exits the car and hands valet the keys to his sports car and makes his way around it to help you out.

TODOROKI’S ADVICE HAD BEEN STUCK on loop for majority of the night. you had your fair share of alcoholic beverages but, you weren’t as bad as some of your friends (you handed your twenty to todoroki two hours ago with a frown as you saw both tetsu and sero swinging their shirts in the air). you hadn’t spoken to kirishima yet (he’s to busy hyping up his very plastered friends) but you did manage to take a few shots with bakugou and mina. so that left you with, deku, uraraka, shinsou, iida and tsu - the six of you basking in one another’s company.

“i really wanna dance,” you whined, pouting as you eyed the dance floor.

“then go! that’s where everyone else is at anyways.” tsu informs you, following your line as sight as uraraka’s jumping out of her seat.

“do you really want to dance or do you just want to get kirishima’s attention?” shinshou asked, taking a sip of his drink as you rolled your eyes.

“let’s go then [your name], i’ll go with you. come on!”

“see! that’s the spirit!” you squealed, joining your hands with the brunette as the two of you made your way to the dance floor. you were grateful for your bubbly friend, whatever you wanted to do, she was right there behind you - making sure you had a partner in crime alongside you. so there thetwo of you were, hands interlocked and dancing your lives away in the dimly lit nightclub, drinks in the air.

“i hope you don’t mind me stealing [your nickname] for a dance, do you?” the familiar voice asks and you start choking on the drink, hand flying up to cover your lips. you already knew what uraraka’s answer would be, you could practically feel the excitement radiating off of her.

“oh! go ahead! their all yours! bye!” you’re cursing her out, mentally of course. you almost contemplate whether or not to ‘go to the bathroom’ and hide in there forever. not because you aren’t capable of handling your tiny crush on the redhead but because you didn’t need any of your drunk friends seeing the two of you and possibly spilling the beans -

“maybe you are a space cadet.” kirishima teases, eyes roaming your outfit choice.

“rude, eyes up here kiri.”

“i was...” he trails off, cheeks reddening as he scratches the back of his neck nervously. he’s been caught, he knows this but he refuses to admit it. “admiring your exquisite fashion choices.”

“yeah, okay. how are you enjoying the night mister hype man? sero and tetsu don’t need you egging their antics on anymore?”

“ha. it’s going great and you know, i would like to inform you that i’m the best hype man.”

“oh yeah? and how do i, submit an inquiry on how much it’ll cost me to hire said ‘best hype man’?”

“well, for you, it’s free. won’t cost you anything.”

“interesting,” you say through parted lips, canting your head to the side as kirishima mimics you, his own arms around your waist now. “are you sure there isn’t anything i can do to pay you for these services?”

“nope, nothing, nada, zip. for free because you’re—”

“your favorite person in this entire world? yeah i know. now dance with me.” and just like that, your back is against his chest and your swaying to the beat of the new song, in your own little world again as kirishima scrambles to keep up. he can’t - not at first at least (it takes him a few seconds to remember that this is his high school crush dancing with him) and it isn’t until you move his hands to your hips that he realizes the situation the two of you are in.

“if i had known you danced this good i would’ve hyped you up first.” his lips barely brush your ear and your breath hitches in your throat for a moment, this was really happening, wasn’t it? part of you is glad that you guys had a raincheck on the movie night.

“i was busy doing other things.” if ‘other things’ is code for: getting drunk so you didn’t have to remember if you embarrassed yourself than yes, you were doing other things.

“like,” he pauses, debating on whether or not he has it in him to ruin the moment the two you of you are having - if he doesn’t.

“like what?”

“your boyfriend.”

“my— my boyfriend?!” you shouted over the music, turning to face him as he turns his gaze, lips pursed.

“you know, iida.”

in hindsight, you aren’t really sure what made the situation funny enough to double over in laughter. it could’ve been the alcohol or just the fact that you were in disbelief that he thought you were dating your best friend - kirishima on the other hand, doesn’t think it’s funny.

“you think i’m dating iida? oh my god — his brother was my babysitter. he’s my best friend, i couldn’t — god, ew i think i threw up in my mouth a little.”

“oh.”

“i shared a bed with you! if i was dating iida or anyone else i wouldn’t - kirishima, do you really think i’m that kind of person? i’m offended!” you’re not but you might as well milk the situation for shits and giggles, right?

“no! i don’t think you’re that kind of person but i just thought,”

“you thought some very unmanly thoughts.” you teased.

“i know i just—yeah i don’t know what i was thinking.” he’s laughing along with you as you roll your eyes, taking your hand in his. hopefully, he doesn’t realize how sweaty your hands are -

“can we continue dancing now kiri?”

FOUR MORE HOURS PASS AND you’ve lost count on how many vodka sprites you and had drank, the two of you are sitting on the very comfortable couch while majority of your friends were making a very poor attempt on figuring out who was going home with who. kirishima, has an arm on the back of a couch while you are fidgeting with the rings on your finger trying to stay grounded.

“what’s on your mind?” kirishima asked, leaning over as you take in a breath, trying to muster your best ‘not suspicious’ smile you could possibly muster.

“nothing, literally nothing. lights are out and they’ve been out for,” cue you checking your imaginary watch for added dramatic effect, “two hours now.”

“how much have you drank?”

“enough to know that todoroki gives the worst advice.”

“huh, you know, i feel the same way about bakugou.”

“fuck them — we don’t, we don’t need their advice,” you inform the redhead, pointed finger in his direction as he nods furiously in agreement.

“agreed. who needs best friends and their shitty advice anyways?”

“yeah, i mean, who cares if i suffer for eternity you know, as long as i have,” you take in a breath, pointed finger now poking at kirishima’s unbuttoned chest. “—long as i have you. i don’t care if i have to suffer for eternity.”

“why would you have to suffer for eternity?”

“because kiri, if i don’t — if i don’t like you know, tell you, then i’ll have this ‘immense’ guilt for eternity but it doesn’t matter you know? because i can be damned for eternity for all i give a shit. long as i have you kiri —”

to say he’s concerned is an understatement. his hands are placed on your shoulders as he tries to understand the rant you’re going on. “i don’t get it. what is it?”

“ugh, doesn’t matter! doesn’t matter.”

“it does.”

“it doesn’t! i can’t — i can’t jeopardize this on some fantasy i had when i was a teenager!”

“[your name!] what are you talking about!?”

“—if i tell you, you have to promise nothing will change.”

the sudden change in your expression meant that whatever you needed to tell him was something serious so he agrees immediately. “i’m a manly man. i don’t break my promises.”

but you don’t tell him. not at first at least, the sudden realization of the situation you’re in starts bubbling in your chest and it honestly feels like you might throw up (or maybe it’s the alcohol getting to you). so you take in a breath, trying to ignore the fact that kirishima’s thumbs are tracing over your sweaty knuckles - or the fact that he’s leaning in and asking if you’re okay.

“talk to me,” he’s worried - it’s written all over his face and it’s either now or never.

“i think — i think,”

“you think?”

“i really want to tell you but, i don’t want to — i can’t lose you because of my own selfish reasons.”

“hey, hey, you’re not going to lose me okay?” kirishima reassured you, hands now at the sides of your face.

“i like you. i’ve liked you since our firstyear of UA kiri,” your voice is above a whisper now and you’re almost certain that it’s just the two of you in the club -

you can feel his warm breath against your lips, the two of you to busy trying to process what you had just said to recognize how close the two of you were.

kirishima panics, saying the first thing that comes to mind, “your breath smells like vodka sprites.”

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ⋆☾

TAG LIST,

@asahisimpnation ♡ @the-fandoms-georgie ♡ @willowtree42095 ♡ @speedmetalqueen ♡ @tryingmyves

#kirishima x you #kirishima x reader #mha smau #bnha drabble #bnha smau #mha drabble #( accidentally deleted the first post.#sorrY YALL JDKDAHKJD )#( eijiro kirishima ) / * series. .#╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ this is how you fall in love ┊ eijiro kirishima .

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fbfh · 4 years

Text

thankful for my (found) family - demisquad + reader thanksgiving special

2.4k

platonic everyone + reader, implied future/potential leo x reader if you look real close, thalia has a girlfriend that I had to make up bc they never mention hunters of artemis but go off rick, calypso is not included bc she acts more like an antagonist imo, gif doesn’t have anything to do with it besides nostalgia lmao

happy thanksgiving <33

You and Leo are cooking in the kitchen

You have been all day

The doorbell rings, and Annabeth goes to answer, binder full of travel plans in hand

“That should be-”

Clarisse enters with a loud greeting and a hug to everyone in arms reach

Percy’s loud cheers echo from the living room as he calls out the new score of the football game he’s keeping everyone updated on

She drops her bag, hopping over the back of the couch to watch with Percy

“Woah woah, catch me up Jackson! What'd I miss?”

Hazel is helping Rachel make cute diy table settings and party favors

Rachel, as with most art projects she takes on, is very focused on making it Martha Stewart levels of cute and amazing

Frank and Piper are keeping everyone updated on the parade

Frank pops down the stairs, calling out, “The last performance just ended, the dog show starts in 5!”

Hazel drops what she's doing and exclaims, “THERE’S A DOG SHOW?!”

She runs upstairs to watch with Frank, her yellow dress swishing behind her

You chuckle, calling over to Annabeth as you mix batter in a bowl, " Hey Annabeth, how are the travel plans looking?"

She shuffles through some papers in her binder

"Magnus and Alex had another layover, but they should still be able to make it in time. Thalia and her hunter friend will be here in 10, and Travis's flight got delayed because of a sudden snow storm."

"Really?" You reply, "This time of year? That's pretty ironic for a son of Hermes..."

"I know, I'm looking at some shuttle services to see if that would be faster…" Annabeth replies

Nico enters, stealing a couple appetizers, "This is so stupid, I could just go get him."

Will, right behind him, eats the appetizer Nico hands him and replies, "No you can't. Doctors orders."

Nico starts to protest

Will shoots him a look

"Boyfriend's orders."

Nico tries in vain to stare him down, "… Va’ a farti fottere." he says, cracking a smile

"Love you too," Will counters

You and Leo shoo them out of the kitchen before they steal more of your recipes

Jason and Grover walk by with a bunch of pillows and blankets, setting up guest rooms.

Grover calls through the pile of fluff he's carrying, "Hey, we're gonna need a few more pillows-"

Jason, over his pile of bedding, corrects, "A lot more!" And Annabeth runs over to help carry some of the blankets he's about to drop

"-A lot more pillows…"

You grab your keys

"okay uh… Grover, do you want to head to the store to get some more pillows-"

Leo, vigorously sautéing something adds over his shoulder, "And basil! And, uh… red wine vinegar, olive oil, and potatoes."

You rip a piece of paper off the notepad on the fridge and scribble a quick list

You're probably going to need some more ice, too

Tyson, very distressed, holds up an empty container of mellowcream pumpkins, declaring, "THERE'S NO MORE BABY PUMPKINS!" :(

you loudly add candy pumpkins to the list

Rachel approaches.

"Are you going to the store?"

"Yeah," you reply, "how's crafting going? You need anything? "

"We're almost out of glitter and mod podge. It's not looking good. We could use some more fake leaves, warm toned glitter, and rhinestones - the nice ones."

Grover looks slightly lost

You narrate as you add to the list, "Fancy rhinestones, mod podge, fake leaves, red, yellow, orange, and brown glitter…"

Tyson, still distressed, yells, "AND BABY PUMPKINS!"

You hold up the paper, "Already on the list, bud, Grover's gonna get them!"

"What if he gets the wrong kind?" Tyson asks

You, turn to Grover quietly, "Grover, can you take Tyson?"

Grover nods

"Hey Tyson, Grover has a lot of stuff to get, could you go be his shopping buddy? That way you can pick out the right baby pumpkins."

He doesn't look convinced

He wants to keep working on a secret project he’s been doing out by the garage

"And…" you add, sweetening the deal, "you can get two candies for the way home."

He agrees

You turn to Grover; "I'll call you guys an uber-"

"I'll drive."

You all turn around, shocked to see Reyna awake.

You thought she was still passed out

She showed up at 9am and immediately fell asleep from traveling all night

"Reyna, hi! Are you sure-"

"We'll be fine, I need to stretch my legs a little." She proves by rolling her shoulders

"Okay, as long as you're sure," you hand her the paper, re-entering the kitchen

She takes the paper from your hand as you shut off the beeping timer and grab a pair of oven mitts from the drawer

Reyna examines the paper, "...This is a weird list. Where are we supposed to get all this?"

Leo moves to the side as you pull out the rolls from the oven, using tongs to set them on a wire cooling rack, "Maybe target?"

Leo, still very focused on cooking, announces, "If you get me generic brand spices I will burn this place to the ground."

"O-kay," you turn back to Reyna, laughing, "there's a Wegmans and a Joanne's right next to the TJ Maxx, you can probably find everything there."

"We'll be back within the hour." She states, taking your keys.

Rachel meets her at the door. "Here, use my card. Also, make sure you get the flat backed swarovski crystals. And please pick some glitter with a nice color shift!"

You remind them to call or text with any questions and be safe

Heading back into the kitchen, you fill up a big bowl with carrots, celery, cucumbers, and mushrooms

You grab two cutting boards, knives, peelers, and a plastic bag for the peels, tips, and tails

You set it all down on the coffee table in front Percy and Clarisse

“Can you guys get the relish tray started?”

They agree, and immediately return to yelling at the referee

You shake your head laughing, and head back to the kitchen

“How we looking, Sparky?”

“Stuffing cups just went up in the oven, pie crust dough is chilling, and the green beans are almost done sauteeing. Rolls are cooling - could you stir the cranberry sauce? - and… the turkey is going up as soon as the stuffing is out.”

You stir the sauce as you continue talking

“Great! We’re making good time so far. Oh, I found a recipe for brown sugar pie, which Frank requested - apparently it’s a Canadian Thanksgiving thing - so I figured if you’re doing turkey I can handle the pies.”

He pours some cooking wine into the pan, and shakes it as the alcohol burns off

“Sounds like a plan, babycakes.”

You laugh at the nickname, and grab butter, salt, some herbs, and a stick blender to finish the potatoes

A few minutes later, you hear the door open

Reyna and the boys are back already? That was quick

You wonder if they need help bringing groceries in

“Eeeey get over here you knucklehead!”

Bags drop, and you hear Jason laughing in protest

You poke your head out of the kitchen, and see Thalia with Jason in a headlock

In spite of the fact that he’s about half a foot taller than her, she’s still noogie-ing him, pretending she can’t hear him objecting through his laughs

She finally lets him go, greeting everyone as he adjusts his glasses

She bear hugs Annabeth, punches Percy in the arm, and high fives and hugs pretty much everyone else

You run up the stairs to the guest room Grover was setting up before he left

You finish making the bed head back down, meeting Frank and Hazel on the way

"Oh, Hazel, what did you think of the dog show?"

"It blew my wig!" She says giddily

A confused smile settles on your face

"It was awesome and she loved it," Frank translates smoothly

He and Will are understandably best at deciphering 40s slang

Thalia is introducing everyone to Amber, a girl she’d met on the hunt and become really close with

You greet her, and turn to Thalia

“Your room is all set up if you wanna get settled in,” you turn to Amber, “and yours will be ready soon,”

They share a look

“Oh,” Thalia starts grabbing their bags, “that’s fine, we can share a room. We share a tent on the hunt all the time, right Ambie?”

"Oh,”

And then it clicks

“yeah, however you’re comfortable.”

You grab one of the bags, and help them upstairs

“Why don’t you guys take a while to settle in, I’ll tell the others you’re resting.”

They thank you, and you start to leave

“By the way,” you poke your head back in, “you two seem really cute together. Welcome to the family, Amber.”

She blushes and Thalia gives you an appreciative look

You nod and head back down

You let the others know they’re going to nap for a little while, and not to wake them up

“Hey, any travel updates?” You ask Annabeth, on your way back into the kitchen

“Alex just texted, she and Magnus are finally on their way, should be here in the next few hours. As for Travis…”

She holds out her phone, showing you Travis’s tiktok

He’s filming the mirror in the airport bathroom

“So uh, my flight’s delayed, I’m bored, I’m gonna fuck with some people,” he holds out a hand full of stickers that look like outlets

He records himself putting them around the airport, then gets people’s reactions when they try to use them

He ends the video asking for more prank ideas

You look back up at Annabeth, holding back a laugh, “Seems like he’s doing okay,”

“Oh,” she replies, “that’s not all.”

She scrolls up, showing the next prank video where Travis goes around the airport having fake phone conversations to get people’s reactions

Conversation topics including ‘I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but slept with your grandma’, ‘hey bro I can’t come to the party, also turns out I’m going to be your stepdad’, ‘hey dude remember that old lady we used to cat sit for? Well, I found out I got chlamydia from her, so…’, and ‘yeah man, I’m so excited for the poetry slam. Also, it turns out my jazz fever is actually syphilis.’.

Your hand flies over your mouth, trying not to laugh loudly enough to wake Thalia and Amber

“Yeah,” Annabeth says, fighting her own laughter, “he’s doing okay.”

You start putting together ingredients for pie filling

“That is the most in character thing I could have imagined,” you laugh, and Annabeth shows Leo the videos

“There’s a bunch more, too,” she adds, “Around making tiktoks, he found a bus heading this way. He’ll be here in a few hours.”

“Cutting it close,” you muse, filling pies, “I’m glad he’s not stuck at the airport though. How about Connor?”

“Haven’t heard much from him, but he said he'll be here in time for dinner."

A little while later, Thalia and Amber re enter, joining Percy and Clarisse in the living room

The door opens shortly after, and Tyson enters, arms full of containers of candy pumpkins

Reyna and Grover are right behind him

You take Grover's bags, announcing that Thalia got here a little while ago

He bleats excitedly and runs to hug her, Reyna right on his heels

Piper and Tyson bring in the rest of the groceries

Tyson sets down the last bags in the kitchen, looks out the window, yells, "IT'S ALMOST SUNSET!", and runs back out into the back yard, presumably to finish his mystery project

Everyone eventually makes their way to the living room, nibbling on appetizers and watching classic Thanksgiving specials

The food is almost done, all that's left is decorating the pies and a little tidying up

You walk over to Leo, placing your hand on his shoulder

He looks up at you

"Why don't you go take a quick shower and change before dinner," you muse, knowing the hoodie and jeans he's been cooking in all day isn't the outfit he'd picked out, "I'll wrap things up in here,"

He thanks you, dramatically presses a kiss to your forehead, and exits the kitchen

You decorate the pies distractedly, catching the doorbell right before the second ring

You smile at the people about to enter

"Annabeth," you call, "Magnus and Alex are here!"

She drops what she's doing, and runs over to greet them

Leo is back down stairs a short while later

His brick red hoodie replaced with a burgundy one - his fancy hoodie as he calls it - a heavy flannel layered on top, and a beanie pulled over his almost dry hair

His pyrokinesis makes you forget how cold he gets sometimes

You're about to go upstairs to change out of your cooking clothes when Tyson enters dramatically

"The surprise is done!"

Everyone files outside to see what Tyson made as he leads you all out to the garage

Perfectly attached to the side, is a very small horse stable

"Wow!" Percy starts, "Great job, dude!"

Tyson is beaming as he's showered with confused praise

"So uh," Percy ventures, "what did you build it for?"

"Maybe something like this?!" Descending voices declare in unicen

Travis and Connor land in front of you on no other than Blackjack

Everyone erupts into cheers

“I thought you were stuck at the airport! What about those tiktoks?”

“Saved in my drafts, baby!” Travis laughs

Percy greets Blackjack and everyone else heads back inside with Travis and Connor

You run upstairs to shower quickly and change, and are back downstairs just in time for appetizers and drinks

You're about to take a sip of coffee when the door opens

An irregular set of footsteps echoes into the room, along with a familiar voice

"Ah, children, I hope there's room for one more,"

Everyone turns in surprise as Chiron enters the room

After lots of warm excited greetings and making sure he has a warm cup of tea, he settles in to chat for a while

"I was on my way to meet with my more, ah, rambunctious cousins, but I couldn't let a day like today pass without stopping by."

After two cups of tea and lovely conversations, Chiron heads out to meet up with the other party ponies

Thalia, Percy, and Will get all the food on the dining room table while Rachel makes the finishing touches to the centerpieces

Everyone finds their seat, and you make the first toast

"I think I can speak for everyone when I say I'm thankful for you guys - my found family."

Every glass is raised

You can all drink to that.

#Heroes of Olympus #heroes of olympus headcanons #heroes of olympus x reader #Leo Valdez #pjo imagine #also the thing nico says to will means go fuck yourself in italian #bc he is a warm gushy affectionate boyfriend #:)#I was gonna put a translation but i think it's funnier if you google translate it yourself #especially if it says fuck you or some shit like that #never fails to make me laugh #also this was the first thanksgiving i can remember not being debilitatingly dissappointed on #so uh #i'm rlly happy abt that thanks mom ily #yeah when you cut a narcissist out of your life your debilitating dissappointment rates plummet #it's a nice feeling #lmfao oversharing hours are coming to a close #I hope you all had a good day today #if you don't celebrate american thanksgiving i hope your thursday was nice #ily all and I'm so grateful for all of you #I'm gonna try to answer all your nice asks soon i have had zero social juice or i would have done it already #cause i really wanna <333 #I love you babes #you're all the best xoxo #fr how did I manage to attract such nice people to my blog #not gonna look this gift horse in the mouth #anyway good night I hoep you enjou six or so pages of domestic hoo holiday fluff #bc I sure did uwu

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

Get a Clue {ACOTAR}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 30.

All installments co-written with @snelbz

Warning: language.

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

I know, I’m a little past the date....but, we wanted to post anyway. :)

Prompt sent in by @photofeesh

Elain was dressed in her finest 1950s attire. It was her first character-themed murder mystery party, and she had decided there was no better time to throw it than on Halloween. The theme? Clue. And since none of them knew their character until everyone arrived, they decided to dress in 1950s wear, due to the fact that the board game had been invented around that time.

The girls used to love playing Clue as children.

Nesta would always get pissed if she didn’t win, Feyre was usually doodling while they were playing, and Elain just loved to have fun; but, no matter how the game went, they all got excited to play together. It was one of Elain’s fondest memories of her childhood: playing board games on rainy days with her sisters.

“I look ridiculous!”

Elain rolled her eyes as she adjusted the gloves that she wore. “You look handsome!”

He stepped out of his closet. The blue ascot tied around his throat was loose, but he tugged on it as if it were a noose.

The dark blue naval uniform looked like it was made for him, but it hadn’t been. It had belonged to the girls’ papa and seeing Azriel wear it brought a huge smile to Elain’s face

He couldn’t complain when she looked at him like that. “I’m not putting the hat on,” he grumbled.

His hair was slicked back, and Elain found herself wishing that she was born in the 50’s so she could look at Azriel like this every day.

Heading downstairs to make sure everything was ready, she paused to press a kiss to his cheek. “Yes, you are,” she said, with a smile.

She could hear Azriel groan as she took to the stairs, knowing full well that he’d do anything to please her.

Mor was in Elain’s kitchen, sealing the final envelope.

“No!” she yelled, clutching all the envelopes to her chest. “I haven’t hid them yet!”

Elain chuckled. “I have to take out my chicken!”

Mor narrowed her eyes but hurried away, nonetheless, taking her envelopes along with her. When Elain mentioned that she wanted to throw a murder mystery party, Mor was the first to volunteer to be the mediator of the whole thing. Mor definitely had a flare for the dramatics, but she also loved to know things others didn’t. Therefore, she offered to be the one to hide the envelopes and watch everyone else go crazy trying to figure out her riddle.

It wasn’t long before everyone arrived. Feyre and Rhysand first, having sent their three-month-old infant away with a sitter for the first time, even though the sitter was just Rhysand’s sister. Cassian and Nesta showed up next, and ten minutes late, in true Nesta fashion. Lucien was the last to arrive, bringing a plate of brownies. Unlike Nesta, Lucien’s late arrival was excused, considering he had to work until 6:45 on the opposite end of town.

“Do we get to eat first?” Cassian asked, his stomach grumbling so loud that everyone could hear. Elain had to admit that the 1950s were kind to the men in their lives.

Cassian looked like an old-time greaser in his rolled up jeans, his black Converse, his plain white tee, and his leather jacket. A cigarette rested behind his ear and his newly cropped, chin-length hair was greased back. He was the complete opposite of Nesta, who wore the cutest, knee-length circle dress. Her hair was in tight curls, and she finished her outfit with a pearl necklace and white gloves.

They were the living image of Danny and Sandy.

Elain felt the sudden urge to sing, but controlled herself.

Feyre and Rhys, however, looked like the President and CEO of a very well established 50’s business. They weren’t, obviously, but the vest, wool overcoat and thin tie Rhys wore and the very smart, but powerful sheath skirt and top Feyre wore would have fooled anyone. The red bowler hat she wore complimented the look flawlessly.

Then there was Lucien in his khakis, suspenders, plaid button down tee, and slicked back, fiery red hair.

Elain’s friends had done her proud. “Dinner is a part of the game. So, if you all would follow me to the dining room table.”

No one complained at that request. Cassian was the first to sit down, and Nesta was rolling her eyes as she joined him to his right.

“As we start our meal, I’m going to pass the basket around. There’s an envelope for boys, and an envelope for the girls. Pick your character.” As Elain sat down, she held her basket to her right, where Lucien was sitting, already filling half his plate with corn.

She adjusted the floppy, but adorable hat on her head and said, “You can tell us all who you are, but the rest of the information needs to be learned throughout the night, as you’re being asked questions.”

Nesta took the basket from Lucien and she and Cassian both removed a small piece of paper. She glanced in the envelopes. “Why do the guys have an extra character that the girls don’t have?”

“Someone has to be the dead guy,” Mor shrugged.

“Sweet,” Cassian said, grinning. “I hope I get to be the dead guy.” He looked at the slip in his hand and groaned. “Man. I’m Colonel Mustard. I don’t get to be the dead guy.”

Without a word, Azriel dropped to the floor, making Feyre jump.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

He looked up at her with a smirk. “My name is Mr. Boddy. And I’m the dead guy.”

Azriel was laying on his stomach and when Elain rolled her eyes and held the basket out to Feyre and Rhys, he knocked the stupid hat off of his head.

If he had been murdered, the hat never would have stayed on anyways.

“I’m Miss Scarlet,” Feyre announced. “You?”

“Professor Plum,” Rhysand snorted. “Of course.”

The basket got back to Elain, and she picked the last slip of paper from the girl’s envelope. She beamed, “I’m Mrs. White, which means Nesta must be Mrs. Peacock?”

Nesta held up the slip in her hand that proved Elain was correct.

“And Luce is Mr. Green,” Elain said, giving her best friend the side eye.

Lucien grinned, stuffing his mouth full of chicken.

Azriel reached up from the floor and stole a roll from the basket.

“So, how does this go, Mor?” Cassian asked, his mouth full.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Nesta muttered.

Cassian didn’t bother swallowing. “Okay, mom.”

“Well,” Mor said, clapping her hands together as Azriel dragged his entire plate down to the rug beneath the table. “On the back of your slips is a character description. You all need to follow the character description, along with the other details noted on your paper. We’ll start ruling people out until someone realizes who the killer is. In each room, there’s an envelope, hidden. Throughout the party, when you find an envelope, there are clues that will help you rule out specific characters, weapons, and rooms. I have an envelope inside my jacket pocket. Inside that envelope is the killer, the room in which Mr. Boddy was killed, and the weapon that was used to kill him.”

“Does the killer know who the killer is?” Cassian asked.

“We just picked our characters two seconds ago, Cass,” Feyre snorted.

“No,” Elain said, politely. “The murderer was chosen at random.”

“How do we know you didn’t rig the game?” Azriel asked, voice muffled by the table.

“Because,” Mor said, eyeing Azriel under the table. He smirked as he took another huge bite of green beans. “I am nothing but an honest woman.”

“This is actually your house though,” Cassian said, pointing at Azriel. “And Mr. Boddy is the owner of the house in Clue. What if I would have been the dead guy, would we have had to be at our place? A two bedroom apartment with three cats wouldn’t have been near as fun.”

Elain was pinching the bridge of her nose and sighing quietly.

Cassian took a drink of his wine and muttered, “It would definitely have been one of the cats.”

Mor rolled her eyes. “Everyone understand the rules of the game?”

A series of nods rounded the table.

Elain smiled brightly. “Then let the game begin!”

“Can we finish eating first?” Cassian asked, his mouth still full.

Nesta just sighed, and shook her head.

“I hope so,” Azriel muttered. “No telling how long it will take you lot to figure out who killed me, and I’m starving.”

“You can eat while you play,” Elain said, pointedly toward her fiancé.

“You mean while I’m dead?” He asked. “Because I’m dead, I can’t answer any questions, so…”

He trailed off and shoved a forkful of chicken into his mouth.

Nesta cleared her throat. “Professor Plum?”

“Yes, Ms. Peacock?” He said, falling into character.

She stood, picking up her wine glass. “I’ve run out of wine, will you accompany me to the kitchen? I’ve got some questions I need to ask you.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t out of wine.”

With a heavy sigh, Nesta said, “I’m trying to be in character.”

He took a drink of his own wine, but said, “Sounds like your character needs to get her story straight.”

Looking him dead in the eye, she tipped her glass back and drained it. “Okay, now I need a refill. Plum, you’re with me.”

Her heels clicked on the hardwood as she headed for the kitchen and Rhys glared at Cassian. “Now I’m not going to get any information out of her.”

Cass smirked. “I know.”

Rhysand just shook his head as he followed Nesta into the kitchen. Cassian was instantly eyeing Lucien, who was sipping from his wine glass.

“Mr. Green,” Cassian began, cordially.

Lucien blinked. “Yes, Colonel?”

“Shall we leave these ladies alone and go for a walk of our own?” Cassian asked.

Lcien lifted an auburn brow. “Sounds like you’re flirting with me, Colonel.”

Azriel snorted from his place on the rug.

Cassian grinned. “Don’t let Peacock hear you. She gets jealous.”

Lucien laughed as he pushed himself up from the table. The men, with their plates in hand, went into the living room.

Elain faced Feyre, who was already watching her with narrowed eyes.

Feyre glanced down at her card. “Where were you at five this afternoon, Mrs. White?”

Elain didn’t skip a beat. “Changing the sheets in the master bedroom, of course.”

Feyre sipped from her glass. “And why was there need to change the sheets?”

Elain’s cheeks heated. “Shut up, Miss Scarlet, goodness.”

“Can I go be dead in the living room?” Azriel asked from the floor.

“Shh, you’re dead,” Feyre said, not looking away from the face of innocence in front of her. “What I meant was…” A dramatic pause. “There wasn’t blood on the sheets from where you stabbed him with a knife was there?”

Azriel murmured from the floor, “Jesus, Feyre, bury the lead.”

“Of course not,” Elain said, a hand pressed to her heart. “I always change the sheets on Tuesday.”

From the floor, “It’s Friday, babe.”

“…on Friday,” she corrected herself.

Feyre narrowed her eyes at her sister again, standing from her chair and walking around the table to grab a roll. “Your story checks out. You’re off the hook…for now.”

“I think a better question is where were you at the time of the murder, Miss Scarlett,” Elain asked, eyeing Feyre.

“Easy,” she said, pausing with a hand on her hip. “Professor Plum was teaching me a lesson.”

“Boooo!” Clearly, the rug hadn’t liked Feyre’s innuendo.

“You know, you’re loud for a corpse,” Elain said, looking down at Azriel, and back to Feyre, who was smirking. “And could he corroborate that story?”

“Professor Plum!” Feyre called.

He poked his head in from the kitchen a moment later. “Yeah?”

Feyre gestured to Rhys. “Go ahead.”

Clearing her throat, Elain asked, “Where were you at the time of the murder, Professor?”

“Banging Miss Scarlet,” he replied, without missing a beat, smirk growing.

Feyre’s grin widened.

Elain cleared her throat. “Thank you…Professor.”

“Anytime,” he winked, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

“Is that all?” Feyre crooned.

Elain cleared her throat. “How is it that you know Mr. Boddy?”

Feyre’s brows scrunched together, unsure of how to answer, but then Elain cleared her throat and gestured down at the notecard in Feyre’s hand.

“Oh,” Feyre began. “We are….having an affair, it seems.”

“My, Mr. Boddy, Professor Plum. You sure do have a long list of lovers, Miss Scarlet. Perhaps a jilted lover had found out about your affair with Mr. Boddy. Or maybe Mr. Boddy found out about Professor Plum?”

“I was open about my promiscuous lifestyle,” Feyre said, yawning dramatically. “Now if you'll excuse me, Mrs. White, I’ve grown bored of this conversation.”

Elain’s mouth fell open but she did nothing more as Feyre dramatically made her exit.

Azriel snorted. “Ouch.”

“Hush, dead man,” she whispered, harshly.

The dead man's grin only widened.

As Elain made her way into the living room and snatched Lucien from Cassian’s attentions, someone new soon filled them. Mrs. Peacock perched herself on his lap.

“Well, hello,” he said, dragging a hand up her thigh.

“Colonel,” she said, with an over exaggerated southern drawl.

Cassian snorted. “I don’t remember Mrs. Peacock being a southern bell.”

“Instead of what you don’t remember, how about we talk about what you do remember?” Nesta reached into the pocket of his jacket. “How exactly did this wrench come to be on your person?”

Cassian took a long drink out of his glass of wine — which he used as an excuse to look at his character slip — before saying, “My cat broke down today and I had to fix it. Must have accidentally brought it with me.”

Nesta blinked, then whispered, “Your…cat, Cass?”

Cassian’s brows drew together as he looked back down at his notecard. “Car. My car. I meant….car. My car broke down, hence the wrench.”

“And when did your car break down?” Nesta continued, after she rolled her eyes.

“This afternoon,” Cassian shot back.

“At what time?” Nesta asked.

Cassian looked back down at his notecard. “At four-thirty this afternoon. I then spent the rest of my afternoon working on my car, until I came here, of course.”

“For someone who’s been working on his car all afternoon you sure are clean,” she noted.

“I, uh-.” Cassian froze and glanced down at his card, for some fact of information that may help out. “I always carry a change of clothes with me. It never hurts to be prepared.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Prepared for what?”

He squeezed one of her thighs. “Prepared for anything.” He smacked her ass and asked, “What about you, Mrs. Peacock?” He enunciated the last word.

“What about me?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I can’t help but notice I missed you in the parlor for drinks,” he mused, raising a glass of whiskey to his lips. Nesta blinked. She wasn’t even sure where he’d gotten it from, the glass of wine was still sitting on the table beside him. “Mr. Boddy was also suspiciously absent.”

Nesta’s brows rose. “What are you implying?”

Cassian shrugged. “That Miss Scarlet wasn’t Boddy’s only lover.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed with such distaste that it was hard for Cassian to stay in character. “Is that what you think, Colonel?”

Cassian cleared his throat and muttered under his breath, “Just a side note, I love it when you call me that in that damned accent.”

Nesta gave him a small, mischievous grin. “Noted.”

“I think,” he began, slipping back into character, “Mr. Boddy told you your secret tryst was over and you retaliated.”

Nesta chuckled and squeezed Cassian’s leather covered shoulder. “A good theory, but you should have done your research, Colonel.” Cassian’s eyebrows furrowed but Nesta continued. “Mr. Boddy was my brother. Estranged. I was here tonight to make amends.”

He asked, “Peacock is your married name?” She nodded. “What happened to Mr. Peacock?”

“Nothing you can prove,” she said, with a smirk. “But I wasn’t present for drinks because I was doing drugs in my room.”

Cassian blinked. “Oh.”

“Yes, I have a drug problem.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really? Or are you making that up to throw me off?”

“Heroin.” Nesta’s face was deadpan and he was about to suggest they have a talk with Elain after the game when she smirked. “No, I fell asleep in my room. I had a long drive in and needed a nap before I was pleasant for company.”

“I see,” Cassian muttered. “Now, back to Mr. Peacock… Are you completely over him? Or…”

Nesta rolled her eyes but pressed a kiss to Cassian’s lips before pushing herself off of him and walking toward Lucien on the other side of the room.

“Finally, time alone with the colonel.” Cassian looked up to find Feyre, sipping from a glass of wine, plopping down on the couch beside his chair.

“That sounds terrifying coming from you,” Cassian mumbled.

“Don’t tell the professor,” she said with a wink.

“It’s fortuitous that you were wanting to speak with me,” Cassian said, matching Nesta’s overly dramatic southern drawl. “Cause I was wanting to speak with you, Miss Scarlet.”

“Oh?” She crossed a leg and raised an eyebrow.

“Rumor has it you were quite familiar with our late host,” he said.

“Rumors can sometimes be true, and sometimes be false,” she said, adjusting her hair. At some she’s ditched the bowler hat. Cassian was willing to bet that it had something to do with the fact that her cheeks were as red as her hat was. And her glass was nearly empty again. A year of not drinking had turned Feyre into a lightweight.

“So, which was it?” Cassian pressed. “True or false?”

Feyre’s eyes narrowed as she finished off her glass. “Butler!”

With a snort, Mor came to Feyre’s side with a bottle of white wine and refilled Feyre’s glass. Before she left, she coughed, “Under the coffee table.”

Both Feyre and Cassian blinked as she walked away.

As Feyre started sipping her new glass of wine, Cassian was reaching under the coffee table, where he pulled out a manila envelope that read Living Room.

Feyre’s brow arched as she snatched it away from him and opened it up. She pulled out a single, white feather. “What the hell is this?”

“A clue,” Cassian whispered, taking it away from her. “A white feather.” He was looking around at all the characters, trying to scope out what their notecards said about their personalities. “What does it mean?”

Feyre stared at the feather for a second before saying, “I dunno, I’m too drunk to form a thought.”

“Is it from a hat? One of those ridiculous things women wear around their necks like a scarf? From a pillow? Feather-duster?” Cassian guessed, then gasped. “What if it has to do with the color and not the feather itself?” His eyes shot to Elain. “Mrs. White is the murderer?”

Feyre shook her head. “I may be drunk, but even I know you can’t have a case based on one clue, Colonel.”

“No, but one clue can get you closer to solving it,” he replied, tucking it behind his ear.

Feyre looked at Cassian for a moment with the most serious of expressions before bursting into laughter. Cassian shot Rhysand a look from across the room, but Feyre’s husband was watching her with the utmost adoration.

And so the night went on.

There were arguments and accusations and all the while, the wine continued to flow. At some point, Azriel excused himself to open a bottle of whiskey, which he generously offered a glass of to his brothers and Nesta, before he retook his spot on the floor, bottle still in his hand.

Nearly two hours later, the entire group was back in the living room. Azriel was in a chair now, thank the Cauldron, but now there was a prop knife jammed between his arm and side, “stabbing” him. He silently continued to sip on his wine, watching in amusement as Nesta and Rhys yelled at each other, arguing over whether he was stabbed or beaten over the head with a pipe.

“There’s not nearly enough blood for him to have been stabbed!” Rhys said, extending his arm towards Azriel.

“It’s not real,” Nesta cried, enunciating the words. “Did you expect Elain to let Mor spray her house in fake blood?”

“If she were committed, she would have,” Azriel said, but Elain glanced over at him and he became as quiet as the dead man he was pretending to be and put his glass back to his lips.

“I’m right,” Nesta hissed.

“Uh, no, I’m right,” Rhysand argued, his arms crossed. “I know who the murderer is, I’ve figured it out.”

Nesta scoffed. “That’s shit, but okay, go ahead.”

Rhyasnd lifted one brow. “Fine. Murderer? You. Weapon? Rope. Room? Kitchen.”

Nesta rolled her eyes but looked at Mor alongside everyone else.

Mor looked back and forth between Nesta and Rhysand before slowly shaking her head.

“Ha!” Nesta yelled, pointing her finger at Rhysand. “You failed!”

“My gods, I’ve never loved you more,” Cassian muttered, sipping from his glass.

“I win,” Nesta announced, simply.

Rhysand was not going down easily. “No, you do not win.”

“No?” Nesta asked, crossing her arms, as the rest of them watched her and Rhysand’s little display. “The killer is Miss Scarlett. Weapon? Rope. Room? Bedroom.”

The room was quiet for a moment before Mor said, “She’s right.”

“She killed him because he was going to end their affair, essentially cutting her off from the lifestyle she had grown accustomed to living,” Nesta said, not a hint of doubt on her face.

Rhys looked to Mor who shrugged. “She’s right again.”

Rhys breathed, “Damn it,” and dropped down next Miss Scarlett.

Who had been drooling on the arm of the couch since nine o’clock.

Rhysand shook his head as he looked down at his sleeping, drunk, passed out wife.

“I’m right?” Nesta repeated, and looked to Cassian with wide eyes. “What do I win?”

Mor hesitated. “What do you win?”

Nesta nodded, looking at Elain. “Yeah, I won, there’s a prize, right?”

Elain sucked in her bottom lip. “There’s….cake.”

Nesta followed Elain’s gaze to where the half-eaten cake sat on the dining room table.

“You win half a bottle of whiskey,” Az said, leaning forward and setting the bottle

and the fake knife on the table in the center of the room.

Nesta raised an eyebrow as she looked at Azriel. “That’s almost completely empty.”

He shrugged. “You got to enjoy your prize early.”

She rolled her eyes, but smiled and grabbed the bottle regardless. They all couldn’t help the smiles on their faces, all except for Feyre, who Rhys had gathered in his arms, ready to take her home. More laughs and love had been shared tonight than some people got to experience in a lifetime.

None of them had a clue how they got so lucky.

#31 days of halloween #acotar #late #sjm #fanfic #oneshot

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immabethehero · 3 years

Text

Chase’s Bday Present Pt 1

Runs in holding a latte *wheeze...* I’m here! And I have three presents for Chase because I’m indecisive as hell! So! Here is the first birthday present, a sweet little ditty I wrote!

CW: talk of food, slight body horror and stitches mention (Robbie), and Soft Anti

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Septic house was in disarray. Jameson Jackson frantically polished the stairway and furniture until it sparkled, Marvin the Magnificent washed the dishes while Jackieboy Man dried them, and Antisepticeye cleaned up the living room seats. All the while, Dr. Henrik von Schneeplestein, MD, PhD, MVP, FFS, loomed over all of them, barking orders while cleaning the floors. Robbie the zombie was the only one not under Schneep’s scrutiny, having wisely taken shelter in the laundry room, folding clothes and ironing while waiting to put the next load in. Sirius and Sam, Marvin’s cat and Henrik’s dog respectively, had taken to hiding upstairs.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Anti said as he vacuumed up the couch and cushioned seats. “It’s just Chase. He’s seen this house before, why bother cleaning it?”

“Chase hasn’t been here in awhile! I want him to receive a warm welcome back!” Henrik explained. “I do hope he enjoyed the cottage with Stacy and the kids though.”

“It’s only been two weeks! Not much has changed since!” Anti groaned.

“Jameson turned you into a turtle,” Marvin pointed out. Jameson snickered at the memory.

“Henrik tried his first bit of magic!” Jackie added. “Managed to turn Jameson into a duck!”

“See? Loads happened while he was gone,” Henrik finished. Anti rolled his eyes and went out to beat the rugs.

“Jameson, can you tune the piano? One of us might want to play something upon his arrival, and we can’t have the piano broken when we do so,” Henrik asked. Jameson nodded and happily left his cloth on the staircase, hands aching to touch the piano.

Henrik put the vacuum away and turned to the flower vase on the living room table. Daffodils. They didn’t seem quite as bright as they did earlier.

“Do you think we should change the flowers in the vase?” Henrik wondered out loud.

“Daffodils are Chase’s favourite flowers!” Anti yelled from outside. “I think we’re okay!”

“They look so dull, though,” Henrik remarked.

“I have an idea!” Marvin cried out. He dried his hands and ran over. “Stargazer lilies are also Chase’s favourite flower! Jameson and I have been growing them in our garden while he was gone. I can pluck a few and replace them!”

“Aren’t they poisonous to cats?” Jackie asked, nervously looking over at Sirius, who had descended to lie on the steps.

“Sirius hates flowers, the smell bothers her. She won’t go near them. But just in case-” Marvin picked up the vase and put them on the dining room table, then summoned a forcefield to keep Sirius away. Just for good measure, he also created two plastic cucumbers and placed them around the plant. Henrik and Jackie snickered. Marvin could hear Sirius scowling at him.

“I’ll get some lilies!” Marvin said, picking the daffodils up and running out. He almost collided with Anti, who was holding at least six rugs. Anti threw the rugs down one by one, then flopped onto the couch, yawning.

“Anti, don’t tell me you’re tired already!” Henrik said, sighing exasperatedly. “There’s still so much to do!”

“Like what?” mumbled Anti, eyes threatening to close.

“Like a treat! I was thinking of making a sweet dessert for Chase!” Henrik announced.

“But we just cleaned the kitchen!” complained Jackie.

“Relax, I’ll clean everything when I’m done,” Henrik reassured. “You go rest, I’ll be hogging the kitchen for a while!”

Jackie nodded and gratefully stumbled over to the couch, hoping to catch some winks before Chase’s return.

“Can I help?” Robbie asked, finally emerging from the laundry room.

{I can help as well!} offered Jameson bouncing back from the piano.

“Thanks guys,” Henrik said. “This is a new recipe we’ll be making: Cheddar Biscuits.”

Robbie and Jameson froze and stared at Henrik quizzically. “What?”

“Cheddar biscuits. Stacy emailed me the recipe,” Henrik explained. “They’re apparently really good.”

“Even the name sounds like a treat!” Jameson sighed. “Let’s make them!”

Henrik, Jameson and Robbie spent the next hour or so in the kitchen. Jameson and Henrik did the bulk of the work, Jameson mixing dry ingredients while Henrik did liquid, while Robbie shredded cheese and melted butter with pieces of garlic in them.

Finally, they clumped the mixture together and spread butter on them, then popped them in the oven and washed up the dishes.

When they were done, at least 24 golden brown scones had been made. The six egos marvelled over the glorious little treats. Even Sam and Sirius couldn’t resist coming over and squeezing through to sniff the food. Anti reached a hand out, only to have it smacked away by Henrik.

“Wait until Chase is home, you greedy monster!” he scolded. Anti grunted in frustration.

The biscuits were placed in a little basket with two napkins on top to keep them fresh, then hidden in the bottom cupboard next to the oven, where Henrik kept his coffee beans. No one with a braincell dared to go near Henrik’s coffee supply, and only few ever survived getting in.

“Everything is finished! We can rest now!” Marvin cried in delight.

“Can’t wait for Chase to see!” Jackie said happily. “How long before he returns?”

Henrik checked his watch. “Not until 6 o’clock at the latest!”

The egos collectively groaned in frustration. Only 1:30 pm and now they had to wait!

“You woke us all up at 6:30 in the fucking morning for this?! We could have slept a little longer you know!” Jackie snapped.

“Yeah, especially after you kept us all up with you Facetiming Chase until midnight last night!” Marvin added.

“If Chase notices the bags under my eyes, it’s because of you!” Jameson griped.

“At least everything is ready now!” Henrik reasoned. “Now all we have to do is wait! And not mess up the house in those few hours! If you want to do something, make sure it involves little movement or anything that could shake the house up. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking a nap!” He flounced upstairs, leaving the egos to find any activity to pass the time.

Two hours passed. Jameson taught Robbie how to play cribbage. Jackie and Anti attempted to teach Marvin how to play, or rather, cheat at Mario Kart. Henrik switched between pacing the front hallway and playing Solitaire and Bio Inc Redemption on his laptop.

“Henrik, do sit down and relax!” Jameson finally said after Henrik got up for the thirteen time.

“I can’t help it! I miss Chase! I want to talk to him again!” Henrik moaned.

“You spent three hours with him on Facetime last night!” Anti exclaimed.

“There is a very big difference between Facetiming someone and seeing them in person!” Henrik retorted. “Do you know how hard it is to talk to him and not smell his vanilla scent or feel his warm embrace? I miss seeing him at the table with his messy hair and stupid puns. I miss hearing his laugh in person. I miss him so badly.”

“Are we jokes to you?!” Marvin demanded. “We miss him too, Henrik, but we have each other. You literally said you enjoyed sitting next to me on movie nights!”

“I know… maybe I’m just being too clingy,” Henrik sighed, sitting down beside Marvin.

Anti snapped his fingers and Mario Kart showed up on Henrik’s computer screen. “Here. Try playing a few games with us and he’ll come sooner.”

Another hour passed. Jameson read. Henrik screamed in fury as he lost another round of Mario Kart. Anti laughed at him. Marvin gave up and started playing Animal Crossing. Jackie grabbed a snack and watched Youtube. Robbie and Sam were fast asleep on the floor. Jameson laughed softly and conjured a blanket to put over them, then went back to his reading.

Henrik was raging so loudly they almost didn’t hear the doorbell. Jameson was the first to hear it. He whistled to get the others’ attention. Robbie woke up and groggily rubbed his eyes.

“Do you hear that?” Jameson asked, putting his ear up to listen. Another ring. Then a voice cried out, “Hello? Are you going to let me in? Did you already forget me? Have I been kicked out?”

Henrik gasped in delight and almost threw his laptop onto the floor, but Anti was quick to save it as the doctor jumped out his seat and dashed over the front door, swinging it open.

Chase Brody stood in the doorway, still playing with the doorbell. He jumped when he noticed the door open.

“CHASE!!!!” Henrik squealed, throwing himself on the vlogger. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!” Chase giggled as Henrik showered him with kisses and squeezed him tightly. Sam danced around them, barking happily.

“Hello, Henrik. Long time, no see.” Chase waved to the others. “Hey guys!”

“Chase! Welcome home!” Marvin said, running over to hug him. “We missed you too, but probably not as much as Henrik.”

“Yeah… Henrik? Could you let me go, please?” Chase wheezed. Henrik was starting to suffocate him. “I… can’t… breathe…”

“Come inside! We made treats!” Robbie cried, dragging Chase in by the hand.

“Did you now?” Chase sniffed the air. “Ooh, I can smell it!”

“We also ordered some chocolate snacks from Shawn Flynn’s Sweet Menagerie, just to celebrate your return!” Jackie added.

“Sounds awesome!” Chase exclaimed.

{Come, make yourself at home!} Jameson said. Chase was led to the couch, where his feet were propped up and a blanket was thrown over him. Sam jumped up beside him and curled up next to him, lying her head on his lap.

Henrik and Jackie set the table while Jameson and Anti got the food out. Chase would have happily gotten up to join them, but he was too tired to move, and Sam wouldn’t budge.

Marvin chuckled when he saw the sight. “Why don’t we eat in the living room tonight? Turn on Netflix and have a little movie fest?” The egos were quick to agree, and Henrik served Chase’s plate to him ona tray, choosing to sit next to him. Sam moved to the other side of the couch, letting Henrik in.

“Here you go! Dinosaur nuggets with mashed potatoes!” Henrik announced, setting the plate down. “Jameson convinced me to mix garlic butter into the potatoes this time, like you used to do!”

“It smells delicious!” Chase exclaimed in ecstasy. He dipped a nugget in the mashed potatoes and ate it, humming happily.

“So what movie are we watching?” Robbie asked, grabbing the remote.

“You’ve probably seen quite a few new movies at Stacy’s cottage,” Jackie told Chase. “Why don’t you decide?”

Chase shrugged. “Just a few. None of us could ever agree, so it was rare for us to watch a new movie. But we all agreed on this sweet little film.” Chase flipped through Amazon Prime until he found a title called This Beautiful Fantastic.

“It’s about a girl who wants to become a writer and slowly learns how to become a gardener.” Chase pressed play and they watched the film. Chase, Henrik and Sam on the couch, Marvin on the purple reclining chair, Anti on the teal green armchair, and Jameson, Jackie and Robbie on the ground.

Halfway through the movie, Jackie remarked, “That father reminds me a lot of you, Chase. I can see why you liked it.”

“Vern?” Chase asked. “He’s just a dad trying to raise his kids. What makes you think I’m like him?”

“You’re both sweet, and a total dork,” Marvin said. Chase playfully threw a pillow at him. Marvin snickered and exaggeratedly hugged the pillow. “I’m keeping this.”

“You both love cooking,” Jameson added.

“And you’re a devoted family man!” Henrik interjected.

“You are all so kind to me,” Chase said with a sigh. “I don’t deserve you guys.”

“Shut up, of course you do!” Marvin said.

“No I don’t!” Chase playfully retorted.

“Shhh, lies!” Jackie hissed, smiling.

“Stop!” Chase cried, blushing. “Seriously though, I didn’t think I would be getting the royal treatment after only two weeks away. I really didn’t do anything.”

“Funny, that’s what we said whenever we returned from vacations and travels,” Jackie remarked. “That didn’t stop you from throwing us a welcome back party.”

“It didn’t stop you from giving me a cake after my 100th successful surgery,” Henrik said.

“Or taking me to a fancy restaurant on my first full day without popping a stitch or losing a limb,” Robbie added.

“You bought me a handsome vest when I got that role I so desperately wanted,” Jameson reminisced.

“You’re a wonderful test subject for all my new spells,” Marvin said.

“You always celebrate us and our successes,” Jackie said. “After all you’ve done for us, I think it’s safe to say you deserve the best from us.”

Chase felt his eyes water up. Face red, he looked down, feeling embarrassed. He rubbed his eyes, smiling. “Thank you. You guys are always so sweet.”

Henrik gently kissed his forehead. “Welcome back, Chase.”

Chase finished wiping his eyes and looked up. “So. What happened when I was gone?”

Henrik grinned. “So, remember when I told you about getting magic lessons from Marvin? Funny story...”

~~~~~

@milo-kno, here’s your punishment >:3 Part one!

@graysun, @florenceisfalling, @miishae, @lonelyseiren, @goldenoceanaart, @egopocalypse, @oasisofgalaxies, @fleecal, @kofi-kiing, @myspatialspace, @jo-ann-ahh-2, @huffletrax, @gemstone6, @dumbasticart, @lunaarmada,@meteorshowersfillthesky, @uhhbeans, @the-pastel-kitsune, @bupine, @climbing-starrs, @the-spawn-of-loki, @jadehowlettthewolf, @obsidiancreates, @rammypaige, @hollenka99, @cest-mellow, @randowaffle, @green-protects, @dezi-popp, @badlypostedeverything, @crystalninjaphoenix, @milo-kno, @pixelpixie-pix, @why-killed-markiplier

#apparently i can write #immabethehero #jacksepticeye #chase brody #writersofjack #writers of jack

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enviedear · 4 years

Text

that damn american ᵒⁿᵉ

do you respect yourself?

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which y/n l/n meets draco malfoy on the first night of the transfer. she decides she doesn’t enjoy him much after he asks her if she respects herself.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 2k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

aaaa okay first chapter i’m so excited lets just jump right in :) you should note this a modern au without voldemort.

your first thought as you exited the hogwarts express was ‘holy shit, i’m literally a sea away from my mom right now’.

you genuinely couldn’t believe that, one, she agreed this and two, that you were here.

well, of course she agreed. so long as your brother, quinn came as well. that took a lot of convincing since he’s dead set on becoming a professional quadpot player. after the school confirmed that quadpot matches would also be held at hogwarts, he had no choice.

“i really gotta learn how to pack. this backpack is heavier than me, i’m killing my shoulders right now, y’all.” april fusses, thick southern accent dripping off her words.

“jesus christ, i can hear you complaining over my music. i didn’t sign up for conan gray featuring april everson.” sophie snides, turning the volume up.

april gives her an annoyed look and begins walking toward the carriages, you and sophie trailing after the tall girl.

“ah, are you the transfer students?” a scottish voice asks.

you look to your side and spot an older woman.

“yeah, well, some of them. i think the rest are still on the train getting their stuff.” you respond, thinking of your brother and the other remaining fifty something students.

“in that case, the three of you can go ahead and get into a carriage. but when you get to the castle, wait in the lobby please. i’ll be with you shortly.”

the three of you nod and hop onto an awaiting carriage.

“they’ve really got the whole ‘old wizarding school’ vibe down pat.” sophie says, staring at large castle.

“for real. ilvermorny seems so modern compared to this place.” you add.

“well girls, i think we should go in instead of waiting out here. i wanna see more!” april shouts, throwing her hands up at the castle and sprinting inside.

“last one in is a pukwudgie!” sophie laughs, running inside.

you roll your eyes and walk in, “sophie you are a pukwudgie.”

the ginger shrugs, “whatever. i didn’t come up with the phrase. but check out this decor.”

you look around the castle lobby and see the numerous amounts of stone statues and portraits of old wizards. it’s vastly different from ilvermorny. your school decorates its lobby and school with art from the students, quadpot trophies, famous wands, and banners of the graduated students. it’s much more, lived in.

“i like it but it’s kinda remindin’ me of narnia,” april smirks, “wonder if i’ll meet my very own peter pevensie.”

“i’d much rather meet my very own plate of dinner. even though dad said british people can’t cook.” sophie says.

“what if they don’t have pie! as the president of the ilvermorny pie fan club, i will cause a scene if i don’t get pie.” april jokes.

“april they eat beans on toast here. i think you’re going to have to ask your mom to send you pie.” you giggle.

the woman from earlier walks in, your fellow ilvermorny students following behind.

“ah, we’re all here,” she says, walking to the staircase in front of you. “my name is professor mcgonagall, head of gryffindor house. now, you’re all going to be sorted. the first years have just finished. and i must remind you that where ever you are sorted, you will remain. the point of this program is to have you meet new young wizards and learn about hogwarts. i understand that you had more leeway at ilvermorny choosing houses, but the sorting hat never makes a mistake. now, follow me.”

sophie whispers to you, “i heard that the house rivalries here are enemy like.”

at ilvermorny the only real rivalry is between your house, wampus, and april’s, thuderbird. but it’s more of a sibling rivalry, no actual bad blood.

you quite enjoyed the competitiveness of your house, which you shared with your brother. the both of you loved sport, just in two different ways. he was his best out playing quadpot while you enjoyed cheering him on with the wampus cheer team.

entering the dining hall is a wild experience. the hogwarts students are looking at all of you with a mix of impressed and curious faces. when you all reach the end of the hall mcgonagall lifts a hat from a stool and calls out a name, “taylor allen.”

you watch the horned serpent get sorted straight into ravenclaw and clap along with everyone else. the names continue on until april is called.

she smiles up on the stool and awaits the sorting hat’s decision. after a full minute the hat shouts, “SLYTHERIN!”

april looks surprised but her smile doesn’t fade as she sits down at the slytherin table.

next is your brother who seems to be basking in female attention more than the experience of the new school. you can’t blame him though, he seems to gain fans where ever he goes.

the hat barely touches his head before again, shouting, “SLYTHERIN!”

you furrow your eyebrows at this. you didn’t expect the both of them to end up in the same house, and it leaves you worried that you might be left in a house all alone.

after more names are called, most of them going into hufflepuff or gryffindor, you hear your name.

“y/n l/n.” mcgonagall says.

you make your way to the stool, ready to hear what the hat has to say. the moment it touches your head it begins speaking, scaring you only slightly.

‘ah, competitive like your brother and a will to succeed like your friend. you could do good in hufflepuff, you’re loyal to your core. or maybe gryffindor with that daring attitude. you’re just too complicated for that though. i know, better be, “SLYTHERIN!”

there is no way.

you slowly walk to april and quinn, who look equally as suprised.

“now, y/n, i know we’re friends but i don’t think we’re too much alike to be getting sorted into the same house,” she looks at quinn. “you said they based this off your personality, didn’t ya?”

your brother scratches his neck, “well yeah, that’s what i thought.”

“well whatever, at least we get to be together!” you smile.

“yeah but what about sophie? it would be a bummer if she doesn’t-” april is interrupted by mcgonagall calling, “sophie yates.”

you give april a worried look and she returns it.

sophie however looks utterly content with the tattered hat upon her ginger head. she’s got an amused smirk on her face, and throws the both of you a wink.

“SLYTHERIN!” the hat bellows.

sophie rushes toward the table and sits beside quinn who has a bemused look on his face.

“how in the world did we get so lucky?” you laugh, grinning at your friends.

quinn sighs, “how in the world did i get so unlucky. i’ve got three snitches around me at all times now. it was bad enough being in wampus with just y/n.”

april rolls her eyes, “quinn no one is going to snitch on you. unless you pull another stunt like you did in fourth year.”

“i’ve told you like ten times! i didn’t mean to give you the damn puking potion.” he groans.

“you shouldn’t have been trying to give it to anyone. you’re lucky i only told mom. if headmistress wilma would have found out you would’ve been straight off the quadpot team.” you point.

your conversation is interrupted by a deep voice. in the front of the room behind a podium, stands an absolutely ancient man. headmaster dumbledore.

“i’m so happy to welcome our first years and our ilvermorny exchange students. i know you’ve all been waiting to eat so i’ll make this short. this is the beginning of a new school year, and i can’t wait to see what it has in store. now,” the man raises his arms, “let us eat.”

dinner was good. but nothing like an ilvermorny dinner. there were no burgers, quesadillas, pie, or salmon. you were going to miss all the diverse food back home, but the slytherin common room sure made up for any complaints.

the room was dark and brooding, but it somewhat reminded you of the wampus common room. instead of the windows showing a jungle, the habitat of the wampus cat, the slytherin common room is underwater.

“dude this is baller.” quinn say to his friend and fellow teammate, sebastian.

sebastian grins, “i can’t wait to take pictures down here. i bet i could make a dope album cover.”

sophie laughs, “yeah so long as you actually finish a song.”

the boy makes a face at her before walking toward the boys’ dorm with quinn.

“having them both here is going to kill me.” you say, eyes narrowed as you watch them walk up the stairs.

“oh who cares! whatever trouble they make is on them. enjoy your year y/n.” sophie says, sitting down on the green couch.

you nod and take a seat on the rug, facing her and april. by now, it’s only the three of you in the common room, everyone else flooding to the dorms.

“speaking of enjoying things, i made us all a new playlist on the train ride.” sophie smiles, pulling out her phone.

“if you put any weird shit on it like you did the last one i’m going to kill ya. there was no reason to add ‘i beat my dick today’ to a playlist with lorde on it. it was disgraceful.” april teases

you laugh and grab the phone out of sophie’s hand. you look at the playlist titled, ‘the time they went to hogwarts’, and notice it has only one song on it.

“there’s only one song soph.” you state, confused.

“exactly,” she says snatching the phone back. “we’re going to add the rest over the course of the year. i want it to tell a story.”

“what’s the first song?” april questions.

“doin’ time by lana. because it’s still summer, we have to represent ilvermorny, and the song hits.” sophie says, drawing out the last word.

“well, go ahead and play it. we might as well break in the new common room with april’s shit dancing.” you joke, sticking your to tongue out at her.

she flips you off as sophie starts the song.

the three of you dance around the common room and sing off key, aside from sophie, who has had plenty of practice in the thunderbird choir.

you’re leaning on a desk, ‘seductively’ swaying your ass against april as sophie records the two of you, when you hear a throat being cleared.

april and you spin around, making eye contact with a tall platinum blond.

“what in merlin’s name are you doing?” the boy sneers.

you chuckle, “dancing. why? do british people not dance?”

“of course we dance. but usually we respect ourselves while doing so,” he looks at sophie who’s still recording. “and what is that? how did you get music to come out of it?”

april’s eye bulge, “you mean the phone. honey, i knew y’all weren’t a fan of muggles but you have to be lying about not knowing what a phone is.”

the boy still looks both confused and irritated.

“and what was that little comment about respecting yourselves? are you trying to suggest something?” you say, eyes cold.

“i’m merely asking if you respect yourself. i’ve never met a decent woman who dances like that.” he snides.

“you’re a dick.” you say, simply.

“and you seem to be a bint.” he huffs,

you furrow your brows, “what the fuck is a bint?”

sophie calls from behind her phone, “i’m guessing whore from context clues.”

the boy smirks and grabs a book from the coffee table, “i’m draco. draco malfoy, and if you’d like to not be called a bint i suggest you refrain from grinding against other people in a public area.”

“well, draco malfoy, you’re a little fuck and i could care less what you call me. suck my dick.” you smile sarcastically.

you hear sophie mutter a faint, ‘worldstar’, which causes april to break out in a fit of laughter.

the boy makes one last disgusted look at the three of you before walking up the stairs.

you turn to your friends, beaming, “looks like we’ve already made a friend.”

#—myfics !#draco malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #harry potter #draco x you #draco malfoy series #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x american! reader #draco x ilvernmorny! reader #draco x poc! reader #draco x black!reader

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the-evil-authoress · 3 years

Text

GX Month Day 6: “Heartfelt Appeal”

You find two characters that click so well, look them up...and there’s no content! ‘Why?? Someone please make content!’ The pleas go unheard. You’ll just have to make it yourself. Show some love for your rare pairs today!

MORE FANTASYSHIPPING! 8D

Year 2’s Duel Monster Spirit Day! Friendly reminder that ‘Mana’ is the name Dark Magician Girl gave when she introduced herself to Syrus last year.

Colorful banners and streamers hang from the entrance hall once more, market tents set up in the main yard with flashy signs and flags announcing their wares or food or other activities. Syrus stares at it all with the same wonder as last year, and peers through the throng of students hopefully. His other friends have already gone off to find the activities they like best, be it duels or carnival games or the kissing booth, so Syrus is free to wander at his leisure and search.

It’s stupid, it’s silly, and Syrus still wonders if last year was a fever dream regardless of the way Christina keeps teasing him and the ghost of arms he sometimes feels around his shoulders. But still, he hopes and maybe this year he can confirm it for sure.

“Syrus!” a voice calls out that tickles his memory and Syrus swings to face-

“Mana!” Heat floods his cheeks. Dear Ra, did she get prettier or is he just hopelessly, stupidly crushing? “You...you just disappeared last time,” he squeaks out the first thing that comes to mind that isn’t a jumbled mess of pretty hug magic like, and wants to kick himself when Mana’s expression falls.

“I know, I’m sorry,” she says, looking so sad it physically hurts. “I didn’t want it to end that way. I lost track of the time and I wasted too much of it showing off.” Her voice turns a bit bitter before she shrugs it off and smiles again. “But not this time. This time you have my full attention.”

“No, no!” Syrus frantically waves his hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean- I what?”

Mana giggles and leans down. “Just for today, you have me all to yourself!” Winking, she taps his nose and Syrus wheezes as his heart makes a valiant attempt at pounding straight out of his chest. Leaning back, Mana clasps her hands behind her back. “So what do you want to do?”

“Ah, well, um, we, we could, we could check out the carnival games,” Syrus finally stammers out a full sentence. Gods he hasn’t been this bad about it since the beginning of the year!

Mana only giggles again as she takes his hand and heads off toward the game booths. “Don’t go hiding in a trashcan on me now.”

Syrus’ brain freezes for a full second. “YOU SAW THAT?”

“I see everything Chinatsu sees! Well, almost.”

Who the hell is Chinatsu?!

It takes a solid 30 minutes and two botched carnival games to finally work himself out of that last anxiety attack, but finally his heartrate feels normal and he doesn’t want to die of mortification. If he dies he won’t get to see Mana smile or hear her squeal over the stuffed Happy Lover she won from the last game. Her throwing arm is ridiculously good. She’s also amazingly child-like for...however old she’s supposed to be.

“Ooo! I wanna try that! I wanna try that!” she squeals, pointing animatedly at the food stall with an assortment of pastries. “The bean fishies! Chinatsu loves these! I always wanted to try one!”

Syrus orders them a taiyaki each and ends up going back for seconds when Manna practically melts where she stands. “It’s so rich and sweet~!”

The next half hour ends up devoted purely to letting Mana sample all the food at the festival and discover her favorites. They compare tastes and Syrus offers recommendations. Mana ends up leaning more towards milder flavors of the sweet and savory variety; too much flavor and she’ll gag on it even if she likes the taste. Syrus prefers saltier foods with just a tiny extra kick. Mana’s reaction to hot spices had been concerning but strangely fun.

“Hey, um, if it’s not rude to ask...” Syrus starts as they sit on a bench nibbling on dango. Mana tilts her head to show she’s listening and Syrus ploughs ahead before he can talk himself out of it. “Are you really the Dark Magician Girl?”

Manna chews slowly before swallowing. “What do you think, silly?”

He thinks she is, and he’d call it crazy if not for, well, everything else crazy about the last two years of his life. After literally sentient murder crazy light, he might be ready to believe anything. But then- “Why me?”

“Because you wanted to get to know me,” Manna says without missing a beat. “You didn’t just see a pretty face or a powerful mage; you wanted to know the real me beneath all of that.”

“Oh...” Syrus remembers that conversation. Christina asked him why he had a card crush on the Dark Magician Girl. Did she ask because...

“And because I want to get to know you too,” Mana continues and Syrus sputters as his poor heart makes itself known again. “I’ve gotten to watch you a lot but that’s not the same as interacting. I want you to show me who you are. And I want to show you who I am.”

“Me? But I’m...I’m not...” His eyes fall to the ground as he thinks of that embarrassing episode of hiding in a trash can, of his brother who he couldn’t even stand up to in the end, of the Society of Light that he did absolutely nothing to help stop and even got himself kidnapped by a digital woman and her duel monster lackeys.

“Syrus.” A hand on his cheek brings him back to face Mana’s deep green eyes. “You can do anything and be anyone you want to be. I mean, just look at you already.” She plucks at the yellow blazer and Syrus’ chest fills with pride at the reminder. That’s right. He did do that. All on his own. “You look so good in yellow!” Mana cheers and Syrus’ ducks his face away again. He doesn’t know how to handle all these compliments! “Believe in yourself, and when that’s hard to do, believe me when I say I believe you can do anything.”

Those words might mean more to him than any other praise or pep talk he’s gotten before, simply because they sound so genuine. He’ll hold those words close to his heart for the rest of his life, because someone as strong and powerful as the freaking Dark Magician Girl believes in him. Swallowing, he nods and clears his throat to find his voice. “So, um, what do you wanna know?”

Smiling, Mana stands and pulls him straight back to the carnival games. Oh, so they’re not talking more? Syrus has to admit to being disappointed.

“Favorite color?” Mana asks as they try to catch tiny goldfish and distracts Syrus from the extra shiny one he almost caught.

“Actually...it’s orange,” he amidst sheepishly. “But I look horrid in it.”

“Aw, I think you’d look cute in orange! Like a little pumpkin.”

“A pumpkin?!”

“Oh? I’m sorry, was that an insult?” Mana asks with such genuine concern and confusion that Syrus can’t even be mad.

Shaking his head, Sryus flips the question around on her. “What about you?”

Mana stares at the water in the plastic pool. “It used to be purple...but I think I like grey a little better now.” She looks up and smiles and Syrus can’t help but feel like he’s missed something significant in that response.

“Favorite animal?” Mana asks once they’ve moved on to a ring toss game.

“Dogs,” Syrus says immediately, then feels self conscious about it. “I mean, they’re loyal and fluffy and I’ve always wanted one, they look fun to play with-”

Mana laughs. “Dogs are man’s best friend, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Mine are birds.” Mana looks up to the sky. “Because they can fly. I always wanted that freedom.”

“But you can fly too, can’t you?”

“In spirit form. But I can’t go too far from my card. Like this I can only float a bit.” With a snap of her fingers, her feet lift a couple centimeters off the ground in demonstration.

“That’s so cool.” Syrus stares in awe as Mana sets her feet back on the ground.

“The silliest thing you’ve ever done?”

A deep breath as a laundry list of his most mortifying experiences assault him. Breath out. He digs deeper for an older memory less tarnished by years of ridicule and insecurity. “I wore a sand bucket on my head and called myself a king.”

Mana laughs, loud and sudden, and Syrus takes pride in his four year old self for managing to entertain two people. He doubts he’d share that memory with anyone else; it’s one of the few he has of Zane smiling.

“I used to hide in giant vases then jump out and scare the crap out of my best friend,” Mana says with a wide grin, and Syrus snorts because he can picture it clearly. “Master always scolded me, but his reactions were too fun.”

Her master? Dark Magician then? Syrus wonders what kind of person would get to hang out with both of them. Probably another powerful spellcaster. “What is he like? Your master? Or...is he here today too?”

“Mahad? No, his situation is different from mine so it’s harder for him to cross the border,” Mana says, scanning the festival for their next game. “He’s pretty strict, and doesn’t know how to take a joke. But he’s kind and selfless.” Her voice grows soft and wistful, then she shakes herself and scratches her cheek. “Honestly, we’re kinda opposites, but that’s what makes it fun.”

She points to a shooting game booth before eagerly charging toward it; Syrus shows her how to use the toy gun and manages to beat her at this game. He still lets her pick out the prize, giggling when she picks out a lucky cat keychain.

“Dream career?” The key chain sways as it dangles from her finger.

Syrus fidgets. “It may seem kinda obvious, but I wanna be a pro duelist. A really famous one,” he mumbles, eyes turning to the ground.

“I bet you’ll be more famous that Yugi!” Mana cheers and Syrus quickly waves his hand in front of him.

“No! No, I doubt that!”

“Do you wanna have kids?” she asks while they fish for balloons with little hooks on strings.

Syrus chokes and drops his string straight into the water. “I mean, uh, maybe?? I guess I’d like- like to settle down and- and have a family- eventually...”

Mana smiles, but it looks a bit sad. “Yeah. I definitely want that too.”

“Best childhood memory?” Nimble fingers rifle through the Senbonbiki strings before giving one a tug.

Syrus answers without hesitation. “Zane teaching me how to duel.”

The string is a dud without a prize attached; Mana turns from pouting to look at Syrus with curious eyes. “Oh?”

“Yeah... we...” Syrus looks away, tries to keep the melancholy out of his voice. “We had a good relationship back then.”

Mana hums, reaching out to take his hand and wander back through the festival. “I think...mine is meeting Atem for the first time.”

Atem. That’s Christina’s ace card. Syrus shouldn’t be surprised he’s a duel spirit too. “Are all monster cards duel spirits?”

“Not every card has a spirit attached, but I have noticed almost every design mirrors a creature or person that actually exists.”

“Weird.” Honestly, Syrus never thought about it before, but it’s really weird that a game on Earth could accurately depict creatures from another dimension. Sure, Pegasus based the original cards off carvings he found in Egypt, but those were 3000 years old! Some of the new archetypes look distinctly futuristic, and Jaden designed the Neo Spacians so explain that! Just thinking about it gives Syrus a headache.

“Have you ever lost a fight?” he ventures to ask as they nibble on chocolate bananas.

“Lots of times,” Mana laughs at herself. “Especially during training. And no matter how good you are there’s always someone stronger, so tactical retreat is necessary!”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Syrus nods. The sky’s getting darker. Will Mana still be here for the fireworks? “What’s it like being a spirit?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. “It’s...lonely sometimes,” she admits, voice soft, almost forlorn. “Not many people can see us. We entertain ourselves by watching the world and taking bets on what kind of trouble Jaden will get into next.” Mana shrugs and smiles, an obvious attempt to make light of the situation, but Syrus can see straight through it.

“Oh,” he says, wishing he could put his emotions into words that wouldn’t hollow.

Mana glances out at the darkening sky, voice soft as she asks, “One thing you really wanna do before you die?”

“Huh?” The question startles Syrus as much as the oddly wistful tone. “I guess...” He hesitates. One thing? The thing he wants to do most? That he’d regret never doing? “I wanna be happy. With someone I mean!” he quickly amends and the word babble spills out from there. “I wanna get married and buy a house and share my life with someone. I know it probably doesn’t sounds that ambitious but-”

“No, that’s a great ambition.”

Syrus can’t really name the emotion on Mana’s face. Nodding, he looks down at his feet and fiddles with his hands. “Maybe...if we get to know each other better...you could be that person?” He squeezes his eyes shut, not daring to look up.

An intake of breath. “Syrus...”

The boom rattles through his bones and Syrus screams, flinging himself towards the nearest source of comfort and shelter, straight into Mana’s arms. Oh. Oh, the fireworks! Prying his eyes open reveals bursts of color lighting up the sky as another boom shakes the air. He laughs awkwardly and rights himself, murmuring an apology.

“I don’t have much time left,” Mana says, colored light illuminating her mournful expression, and the dread seizes Syrus by the throat.

“Ki-kiss me properly this time!” Oh gods his voice cracked and got really screechy, but he said it! His hands fist against his legs, trembling as her heart goes off on another marathon, and what if she rejects him? What if he read this all wrong? What if-

“Okay.”

Her kiss lingers on his lips long after the fireworks fade and she disappears back to being a spirit. He can still feel her hand against his own, and this time he knows it’s real.

#gxmonth2021 #fantasyshipping #syrus truesdale #marufuji shou #dark magician girl #ygo gx #yugioh gx #yu gi oh gx #long post

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dweetwise · 4 years

Note

Can you do a continuation of pyramid head x dummy tick reader with killers and surviors that are flirting or make sexual movements to the reader?

i apologize to all dummy thicc reader fans for taking so long! i got two requests, so i’ll do survivors for this one and more killers for the next <3 warnings for some nsfw suggestive language!

Survivor Thirst (survivors X dummy thicc reader)

Following Pyramid Head’s warnings (and in some cases, a very big sword through the gut), the killers, thankfully, seemed to leave you alone, sticking to chasing and killing you normally.

Even the Entity appeared to notice your annoyance, not calling you into trials quite as often as usual. That left you with more time to hang out with your friends and sneak out to Midwich to see your boyfriend, and you couldn’t help but think of how nice it was to get a break from the crazy shenanigans and embarrassment of the last couple of weeks.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t have been more wrong.

It all started relatively innocently when Steve, after a trial, excitedly bounded over to you.

“Hey y/n, feel my shirt!” he said, a neverending smile on his face. You tilted your head in confusion, before reaching to grab the hem of his sailor costume shirt. It felt like normal fabric, a kind of cheap polyester, and you failed to see what the big deal was. Did he wash it or something? “It’s boyfriend material,” Steve finally quipped, smile morphing into a smirk at his own punchline. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved the teen away, hiding a small grin of your own.

The other survivors watched the exchange with varying levels of amusement. You thought they were just laughing at the horrible pick-up-line, but it would later become apparent that they took it as an invitation to try to get into your pants.

“Are you close with your father?” Ash asked you out of the blue when you were sitting by the fire, stoking the logs with a stick. The question took you a little off guard; normally, the man was all jokes and extravagant tales of his youth, and you never would have guessed he’d actually be interested in your past. Before you managed to answer, you saw a grin spreading over his lips. “Because you look like you need a daddy,” Ash leered, gaze glued to your generous cleavage from where you were leaned over the other side of the fire.

If you’d been able to reach him over the flames, you’re pretty sure you would have slapped him. As it stood, the disgusted scoff you made was sure to get the point across.

But then, there was Yui.

“So, uhh...” the biker started uncharacteristically meekly, approaching you in a semi-secluded spot in the corner of camp. “I saw you with the Pig the other day...”

Oh, fuck. If Yui had seen the killer glued to your back and sensually stroking your face, she must have gotten the wrong idea.

“Yui, shit, um,” you sputtered nervously, causing Yui to glance at you with hope shining in her eyes. “I don’t swing that way.”

At least you think you don’t. You’d always thought Yui was really pretty, but in a completely no homo way. Like right then, you could objectively see that she’s quite attractive, her crop top and short shorts showing off her muscular build—

Yui managed a quick apology and an awkward laugh, and you cleared your throat and squeaked out an “It’s fine”. Your eyes, as of their own accord, were glued to her ass when she walked away.

Okay, maybe a little homo.

If only Nea had been as sensible as Yui.

“Y/n, over here!” Nea called, waving you over when you walked back into camp after a stroll to Midwich. “Did I ever tell you about my cat?“

“No, not that I remember,” you said, sitting down next to her on one of the logs. “I know you like cats, though.”

“Mm-hm,” Nea agreed, her innocent smile morphing into something much more mischievous. “I sure do love a good pussy,” she practically purred, eyeing you up and down.

“You little brat—” you hissed, jumping back up on your feet while your face flushed red.

“So that’s a no?” the tagger had the audacity to wink at you, and you moodily walked over to the other side of camp to avoid the temptation of smacking her in the face with her own purple flashlight.

It couldn’t even have been a full day before you caught Dwight sneaking glances at you. He blushed furiously every time you noticed, and eventually you just let out a small sigh and made your way over, eager to get this over with.

“Something on your mind, Dwight?” you asked with a friendly smile, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt and even sitting down a respectable distance away from him so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea.

After a minute of nervous sputtering and trying to ignore the question, Dwight finally managed to spill the beans. “Feng said you, um, wanted to... k-kiss me?” he squeaked. You sighed long and loud, causing Dwight to nearly have a nervous breakdown. You tried to reassure and reject him without too much of your annoyance shining through, all while thinking of creative ways to get back at Feng for another one of her dumb pranks.

A couple of days must have passed and, thankfully, no more embarrassing incidents occurred. You were just about starting to think the others had managed to get it out of their systems, as no more potential suitors were lining up to harass woo you.

And then you unsuspectingly leaned over a log to rummage through your stack of items to look for a med-kit, and...

“Nice arse, luv!” David hollered from the other side of the campsite. In an instant you were up on your feet, glaring daggers at the brawler who didn’t look the least bit sorry.

When David proceeded to throw in a wolf whistle for good measure, you hurled your med-kit across the camp, turning on your heel and stomping out into the woods. Judging by the dull ‘thunk’ of the item hitting wood and David’s roaring laughter, you’d missed your target—his head.

Eventually you came across Jake in the woods, sitting quietly by a cluster of trees and stocking some of his toolboxes.

You slumped down next to the saboteur with a huff, crossing your arms and trying to think of how to get revenge on David. Jake glanced over in acknowledgement, but didn’t say a word before getting back to his task.

You felt some of your anger dissipate in Jake’s calming presence, watching him work with methodical composure. Jake may have been be a little anti-social, but at least you could always count on him to never think with his dick—

“We should fuck,” Jake said and your mind screeched to a halt.

“I beg your pardon!?” you squawked, causing him to finally turn to look at you properly.

“I think you’re hot. Do you wanna fuck?” he said, the same infuriatingly calm expression on his face, acting like he didn’t just proposition you in the crudest way possible.

You furiously stomped back to the campfire, leaving Jake alone with his tools and an angry red handprint on his cheek.

Upon your return the others, thankfully, seemed to sense your mood and nobody dared to bring up the David incident, leaving you to sulk in a corner in peace.

And then, Ace got back from a trial.

You saw him swaggering over, an annoying cocky grin on his face. He opened his mouth and—

“DON’T,” you warned, lifting your finger to interrupt him while giving him your dirtiest glare. Ace raised his hands up in surrender while one of his eyebrows cocked up in question. “I’m sick of being perved on! You guys are the worst!” you complained, taking the opportunity to give David the stink eye from across camp.

“Actually, I was about to ask if you’d like to play a game of cards?” Ace inquired, genuine curiosity in his voice. “You’ve seemed on edge for a few days, looked like you could use a distraction.”

You blinked in confusion at the words. “Oh,” you weakly managed, a blush rising on your cheeks and feeling a little bit like an idiot. Seems like chivalry isn’t dead after all—

“So, strip poker?” Ace suggested, the sly grin back on his face.

“You FUCKING—” you yelled while Ace’s hearty laugh echoed across camp.

--------------------------------

“So if you happen to come by any moris, nobody will really mind,” you finish your story, looking up at Pyramid Head with a sickly sweet fake smile that fails to betray just how much you’d like to get petty revenge.

There’s an echoing chuckle from within the pyramid, and then a couple of inquisitive grunts while he draws a hook shape in the air.

“Camping and tunneling?” you ask, feigning ignorance. “I think those are just legitimate strategies.”

#dbd crack #steve harrington #ash williams #yui kimura #nea karlsson #dwight fairfield #david king #jake park #ace visconti #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd fanfic #request #dweetwrites

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universe-n-3276 · 4 years

Text

Carrying the Moon

Chapter 11

“Hiii! We're back! "

"I'm in the kitchen!"

Alice picked Hero up from the stroller and went straight to Robbe. The final exams were approaching and both boys were spending most of their time studying at home or university. Sander was often in his atelier at the Academie to finish up his projects, so Hero spent his time with his grandparents or with the babysitter. That day, Alice had offered to take him for a walk in the park, while Robbe had stayed home on the books.

"Hi!"

"What’s smelling so good?"

“Hey, little bean! I missed you so much!"

Robbe took Hero in his arms and kissed his cheek. He felt so guilty because he couldn't take care of him these days and it was the same for Sander, but they both knew they were doing this for him and their family. Graduating with good grades would have guaranteed a better future for all of them. Besides, it was almost summer, and they would have much more time to spend together.

"I'm making lasagna. Do you wanna join us for dinner?"

"I’d love to, but I have a work dinner tonight."

"Next time. then."

"Sure."

Alice smiled, watching Robbe sit down with Hero on his lap and start taking off the small Ramones sweatshirt he was wearing. In such a short time, the boy she had seen grow up, had turned into a loving man and father. It seemed to come naturally to him, as if he had been predestined to be the father of that child, just like Sander.

"You're such a good dad."

"Thanks but I'm still learning. Sometimes it seems like I'm doing all wrong."

"That’s normal when you have kids, sweetheart. And you're still so young! When I had the twins, I was way older than you, and it was something I planned with my ex-husband for so long. Still, life likes surprises and ended up giving us two babies instead of just one. And I felt exactly like you."

"Sander is my favorite person in the world, so, to me, you did a pretty good job with him."

“Thanks! I'm so proud of him, he turned out to be such a wonderful human being. Both of my children are."

The boy couldn’t hold back the annoyed expression that was painted on his face. In the month everyone had begged Charlotte to try to be a mother, Sander and Robbe had talked a lot about how her behavior was extremely wrong and deplorable in their eyes. Not because she didn't want to be a parent, but because of the way she was acting toward that poor child. She refused to look at him, to touch him, or hold him. Then Hero had become their son and the feeling they felt towards the girl had strengthened, because after all, that torture had been inflicted on the person they both loved so much. Alice noticed Robbe's expression and smiled because it was not difficult to put herself in his shoes, she was also a mother after all.

"I know you think Charlotte did something awful to Hero, but I'm proud of her because she dared to take a step back, and stand up for herself."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I mean, I was scared of being a parent at 23, but now I couldn’t imagine my life being any different. Hero and Sander are my everything."

"You guys are such a nice little family, and thanks to you and Sander, I have the chance to be a grandmother to my little Hero here."

When the sound of the keys turning in the lock reached the kitchen, Hero clapped his hands happily, already knowing that this was the signal that heralded his papa’s arrival.

"I'm home!"

“Hi, baby! We're in the kitchen!"

“Hi, ma! Thanks for taking care of Hero today."

"Don't mention it, honey. I'm happy to help. Now I have to go, see you next time."

They all greeted Alice, and as soon as they were alone, Sander ruffled Hero's hair, then kissed Robbe softly, and he finally felt at home. Calmer, more relaxed, more himself, wrapped in the love that was so vivid between those walls. He couldn’t help but smile while his lips were still pressed to his boyfriend’s.

"Hi."

"I made lasagna!"

"Now I'm scared."

At that comment, Robbe playfully pushed Sander away, and looking him in the eye, he mouthed an unmistakable "fuck off", making Sander laugh out loud, but also Hero, who was always amused to see his parents bicker in that way.

During an evening, when all of them miraculously managed to take a break from studying, Sander and Robbe invited Jens and Lucas over for dinner.

That small meeting was supposed to be held in their friends' apartment, but Hero and his energy took up the space of ten elephants, so they opted to stay at their home.

At that moment, Hero was sitting on Lucas's lap, watching, completely captured, the people around him.

"I've been waiting for the moment when he will call me uncle since he was born."

Everyone laughed and Jens looked at his boyfriend with so much love in his eyes, that Robbe was sure, if they weren't both still busy with college, he would have asked Lucas to marry him long ago.

"When are you giving me another nephew, though?"

Robbe frowned as if Lucas had suddenly grown another head and Sander laughed, taking another sip of the only beer he had decided to drink that evening.

"At this point, if we were straight, I’d tell you that we’re using protection again, but that’s not quite the case."

"So you got tested?"

"No."

They answered in unison. Sander still was calm, Robbe was already completely embarrassed. He didn't understand why Lucas wanted to go through that topic. The wine he was drinking was probably already starting to kick in, destroying his brain-mouth filter.

"What? Why?"

"I hadn't sex with anyone while we were separated."

"I wasn't talking about you."

Robbe was trying so hard not to get involved into that conversation and he was throwing awkward looks at Jens, begging him to find a way to change the subject, but when the room became silent and he saw everyone's eyes on him, he understood that he had been called into question.

"Ow. Sander is still my first and only."

"What? He must be really good if you didn’t feel the need to be with anyone else. Even just out of curiosity. I mean, in my experience the Driesens are pretty passionate lovers, so I get that."

“Lucas, I love you, but just shut up. That big mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days."

"That’s exactly what you told me last night when I was giving you-"

"Oh, my."

Jens buried in his face in his hands, continuing to mutter incomprehensible words, while Lucas had a Cheshire cat grin on his face and was stroking his boyfriend’s. Then the conversation somehow shifted back to less embarrassing topics, as Sander got up and went to get their takeout at the door.

"Did he already called you dad?"

Robbe shook his head. That was a very sensitive subject for him. Two months had passed, and despite Hero already calling Sander papa and Alice oma, he seemed unwilling to call Robbe dad. This had started an endless series of thoughts on how Hero would never see him as a parent, and often he and Sander had ended up arguing, because, after all, it was Sander’s fault, if they had broken up.

Sander, who was holding three bags in his hands, had picked up the conversation. The way his boyfriend reacted made him feel bad, but he was convinced that Hero would say that magical word in a few days, also because, whenever Robbe wasn’t around, he tried to make Hero repeat that word until they were both exhausted. He walked over to Robbe and pressed a kiss on his temple, before setting the containers with the food on the table and going to sit next to Lucas.

"It will happen soon, don't get down on yourself."

Sander was immensely grateful for Jens' words and was Robbe too because smiled at him. Hero, who was still sitting on Lucas's lap, caught Sander's gaze and called his name to make sure he had his attention, then pointed his little grabby hands in Robbe's direction, causing an endless series of “aaaaaw”.

“You haven't seen me for a week and you want to go with your dad? Thanks, I'll remember it, when you’ll ask me to drink together your first beer!"

At Lucas' huffy comment, everyone burst out laughing and Robbe walked over to pick up Hero, leaving him a kiss on his head. The baby’s gesture only served to confirm Sander's theory. He just needed to say that word, to complete the puzzle.

"You are his favorite!"

Jens said, turning to his best friend.

“Hey, did you really have doubts about it? He has my genes after all."

After dinner, Hero fell asleep in Sander's arms, who promptly carried him to bed, and the conversation became more intimate and serious.

"What will you do if Charlotte wanted to get Hero back?"

At Jens's question, Sander stiffened and clenched his jaw. That was something he had struggled since he decided to become a father, both because he couldn't forgive his sister for how she treated Hero and because the twins hadn't spoken to each other for nearly a year now, and it had never happened before.

“My mother is Hero's legal guardian because here in Belgium you have to be at least 25 to adopt. I will use this year to find a job so that I can officially adopt him and Charlotte won’t be able to do anything about it. If she comes back sooner, I won't let her take him away. Robbe and I raised him. We are his parents. She is nothing to him."

His words were harsh, sharp, and angry. Robbe knew that Sander would fight hard to keep Hero with them. They had already talked about it before, but the tone never changed. Always so raw and emotional. Robbe put a hand on his boyfriend's back, starting to draw circles with it, to try to calm him down.

They had agreed, that once they were married, Robbe would legally adopt Hero, but also about the fact that everything should evolve naturally in that direction, without the need to push things due to bureaucratic issues. It was enough for Sander that Robbe felt as emotionally attached to Hero as any parent. He didn't need documents to prove it.

"However, she doesn't seem willing to do anything like that, or to get back to this side of the world."

"As if she had never done anything impulsive."

Sander knew that Lucas and Charlotte were still in contact and that nothing could break their bond. It didn't seem right that his best friend wasn't taking his side, also because he knew very well that he had loved Hero from day one. Maybe Lucas was good at not messing with his feelings and emotions. Or maybe he had simply learned to manage those things.

"The anger you’re feeling has made you forget that wanting to give Hero up for adoption was the only selfish thing your sister made during her life. She would never take him away from you. Trust me."

And perhaps Lucas was right, yet his words couldn’t erase the weird feeling that Sander was experiencing in his stomach for months

[previous] / [next]

#wtfock #wtfam #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #robbe x sander #rosander #drijzermans #sobbe #sobbe fanfic #wtfock fanfic #vds #van der stoffels #lucas van der heijden #jens stoffels #carrying the moon #chapter 11

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drunk-onsunlight · 4 years

Text

Day #4 of Promptmas

Chapter 4: Look out the window at that storm

Summary:

Ice skating date? Cute coffee shop I found online and passed the address to Peter so he could take MJ there. Spidey finally meets Black Cat in person, or something like that.

Chapter 1: Beautiful what’s your hurry?

Chapter 2: I’ll hold your hands (they’re just like ice)

Chapter 3: Mind if move in closer?

Concept: Ice Skating

Dialogue: “If you sing Jingle Bells one more time…” & “Do you mind?” “What? I’m cold”

December 20th

The day was particularly cold and MJ was trying not to kill Peter. He was on his tenth time humming Jingle Bells and it was just 9am. MJ opened the curtains and took a look outside, the snow was falling down slowly. She loved the view of the city she grew up in during winter season. The phone on her pocket vibrated with a new message, her friend was informing her about that guy that was bothering MJ so much, people saw her as a villain when she was trying to help the city. Not that she cared what people thought about her, maybe they will found out one day. She needs to make a plan for tonight, she can’t let them create whatever they are trying to do If that implies hurting people, innocent people like her friend.

“Michelle?” she had been so distracted by her message that she didn’t notice Peter calling her name

“Parker?” She placed her phone back on her pocket and turned around to face Peter. He was standing in the middle of the living room looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read properly

“What would you say if I tell you that I want to go ice skating… with you” the invitation took MJ off guard but she actually liked the idea

“yeah. Why not? Is Morgan going?” Was this a friendly invitation or actually was Morgan going and he still wanted them to bond even more?

“No, she is not coming. But if you want to invite her…” She really liked Morgan but she wanted to spend some quality time with Peter. Uni, Black Cat and her part time job ended up in not seeing her roommate a lot and she missed spending time with the loser.

“No. It’s fine. What if we go grab something to eat and then go ice skating?”

“Rockefeller Center?”

“There is no better place to go ice skating than Rockefeller Center, loser.” It was close to 10am, while they found something to eat it could be close to midday and maybe they could walk to Manhattan to be there late afternoon and finally ice skate together.

“I want to show you a place I found. I think you’ll love it” Peter’s eyes were shining with excitement.

“Then let’s go” They gathered their belongings and went out to the cold day.

They were walking quietly when she heard a little sound next to her, a mumbling of a song. Oh, no. not again.

“Peter, if you sing Jingle Bells one more time I swear to god I will push you while skating and I’m making sure you die” it wasn’t the fact that he was humming the song, it was that she seriously hated the song.

“Why you hate Christmas carols so much?”

“I don’t hate all of those but that specific one doesn’t make any sense. It’s the same verse over and over again” Peter didn’t say anything, he just looked at her for a few seconds and kept walking. They fell into a comfortable silence, MJ loved that. At first when they moved together there was awkward silences that none of them knew how to fill, but now it was different. They could be studying at 1am in complete silence, just the sound of their keyboards and the company was enough, no words needed.

“Here we are” Peter stopped on a corner. There was a really nice looking coffee shop there.

“Mighty Oak Roasters?” she didn’t recognized the name and when she took a look inside, she noticed a normal cafeteria with a particular bar and a huge machine on the back corner

“Yeap. Come on in!” he held the door for her and she moved inside the coffee shop

“Bar or table?”

“Bar” Not that she was thinking about how a date with Peter would be in this exact same place he picked for her, not sure why just yet but sitting with him at the bar made her feel more like a friendly thing and not the image she totally could see in her mind on one of the tables

“Welcome to Mighty Oak Roasters. What do you want to drink?” A very nice girl asked them with her sight on a small notebook on her hand. The huge menu was right in front of her behind the bar hanging on the wall

“Is our first time here so what do you recommend us?” Peter spoke first making the girl look at him

“Well… the coffee shop is focused on vegan pastries and using freshly roasted beans for coffee and self-sustaining tea” the girl was looking between Peter and her. Every time the waitress looked at Peter she stumbled over her words and tended to blush, MJ have seen that reaction many times. Peter was a handsome man, she wasn’t blind, she noticed him since high school and saw him grew up into a man, a handsome one for the matter. But above the whole situation with the waitress, MJ was very impressed. Peter knew MJ so well that he found this vegan self-sustaining place.

“Can you bring me matcha latte, please?”

“For me a mocha, please” Peter didn’t even looked at the menu, he was focused on MJ. He knew how to read her after so many years

“I’m impressed, Parker”

“I knew you would like the place” he was very proud of himself

“Not you first time here, right? You didn’t even look at the menu to order” his confidence dropped a little but kept it cool

“I found the place one day, it looked nice and searched for it later” that wasn’t the full story, MJ knew that much but she wasn’t pushing it either.

The tea was amazing and according with Peter, his mocha was pretty good too. They chatted while on the coffee shop about how their part time jobs were going. MJ decided to finally tell Peter about that photoshoot an agent had offered her to do and he was very surprise but supportive. He told her about how his job in The Bugle was demanding more of him, he never spoke about his famous Spider-Man pictures so she never asked. She told him about a few cases they were working on the lawyer’s firm with a new guy called Harry Osborn and his awful attempts of flirting with her.

The hours passed and soon it was afternoon so they decided to go to the ice rink. It was a half an hour walk, just to give it time for the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree to light up. When they finally arrived it was late afternoon, the air was colder than before and she could see lots of families already ice skating in the rink.

“You ready?” Peter turned around to talk to her. He wasn’t wearing a scarf given that he gave his to the snowman they built with Morgan, but he didn’t seem cold. He looked perfectly fine while she was very cold, she kind of missed wearing her leather suit beneath her clothes

“I was born ready, Parker” MJ knew that phrase always made Peter laugh

“oh. Get out of here!” she loved when he tried to mock her while trying to hide his laugh

It wasn’t the first time they went ice skating but it was the first time alone, they always went with Ned and Betty and even May. Peter was a little clumsy at first but after ten minutes he managed to do a little flip without MJ having to lift him off the ground. MJ used a little bit of her Black Cat abilities to show off. While Peter moved around trying to do his flip, she was skating backwards when she decided to show Peter something she used as Black Cat.

“Hey, loser. I’m going to do a little something over there. Try not to kill yourself while I do that, ok?”

“I’m not gonna die! Maybe I will do another few flips over here”

MJ skated backwards again, gain speed as she went around the rink without stop looking at Peter. Suddenly she opened her arms, then used her left toe to turn while lifting her right foot from the floor, that caused her to turn around in the air once and land on the outside edge of her left foot smoothly, then stopped in front of Peter with an easy smile.

“How did you do that?” Peter was looking at her like she had grown two more heads

“Saw it on an article about ice skating flips and seemed easy enough to try it” It wasn’t an easy flip, she knew that but she did that flip every once in a while when swinging through the buildings, it was easy to do that while trying to escape. The rope attached to her hip making her perfectly stabilized, her high heels allowing her to turn around once and land sometimes on another building, sometimes on the next corner of the same one.

“Easy? If I try that I probably end up breaking my neck”

“Yeap, you are too clumsy for those things, loser”

They kept trying to do more flips for about half an hour with Peter falling to do most of them and MJ laughing while he seated on the floor.

“Peter you are a mess! You’re going to be all bruised tomorrow. We should go home and get some rest”

“Sounds like a very good idea. Now can you help me stand up and stop laughing?”

“Why? Is really fun to see you trying to get up on your own”

“MJ!”

“Okay! Fine!!!” She took his hand and helped him get up. They moved to the door where they have left their shoes and put them back on. The ride home was full of laughter from MJ and lots of blushes from Peter. They got home by 8, they reheated the pizzas they made from the night before and watched some TV on the living room.

“I think I’m going to sleep. I’m tired. Thanks by the way, the coffee shop and the ice skating, I needed that”

“Any time, MJ. Sleep tight”

“And take care of those bruises, loser”

“will do”

She headed to her room and closed the door behind her. She checked her phone to see if her little friend was fine or if he had any news. She just had a new message from him “u comin’?” She was tired but she also needed to check on him, the situation was getting worst by the second. She replied a quick “yes. Stay safe” and putted her leather suit on. She looked herself in the mirror while adjusting her silver wig and black mask on, she looked exhausted but this was more important, she could sleep tomorrow, she didn’t have any plans after all.

She checked that nobody could see her and then climbed out her window. Her belt had everything she needed for her little mission. She climbed the wall and got to the rooftop of her own building. She saved her claws, the same ones she used to climb walls, and searched for her phone do a quick call

“Hi, Em. Where are you?” He was the only one that knew her real name and that was dangerous enough

“I’m going out but I need you to tell me what you saw or heard to go safe” it wasn’t time to do small talk and he knew it

“Prowler, something about some equipment to improve his damage on the city, something big Em. But in small amounts so it doesn’t call anyone attention. He was going to take the money tonight to a new place”

“where?”

“Commodore Barry Park at eleven thirty. But please, be careful”

“Like always. I will text you when I have the money”

“Bye Em. Take care”

She ended the call and threw her rope to the next building. She wasn’t as fast as Spider-Man was with his webs but the rope did perfectly fine and she used more the claws to climb than any other artifact she carried with her. She started moving to Brooklyn as fast as she could, she knew the park and knew that it didn’t have lots of places to hide a group of people with weird costumes on. It was going to be an easy task to find them.

She was at the park at eleven, the place was surprisingly empty, maybe it was the low temperature, she was freezing too. She decided to make a round on the park, she moved between the trees, her black leather suit helped her to hide on the shadows, but her wig made it a little more difficult so she needed to think where the moon was placed so her hair could camouflage with the moon.

She found a place above a small building that was near the park and soon she saw the Prowler walking through the park and placed himself under a big tree. If she moved quickly, she could take the money and run without making a big show. When she started moving closer to the Prowler she heard an explosion close to them. The prowler rolled his eyes and spoke to some kind of intercom but she could hear what he was speaking. A few seconds later a second figure with four mechanical arms appeared to her right, his suit was simple, like a mechanical octopus. Too late to get the money from the Prowler now, she will have to do the same from a few days ago, go directly to the warehouse and take the money from there.

A second louder thud shook the three where she was and now she could see the source of the sounds. Rhino was running to the small park and of course, spider-Man was after him. The Prowler and the Octopus man exchanged a look and then turned around and moved to opposite sides. The Prowler walked under the tree she was so she took her chance and jumped right behind him.

“I have heard a lot about you, Prowler” She always tried to change her voice when being Black Cat. He turned around to see her.

“Cat, you are not a myth then”

“I can be a nightmare if you want me to” She walked around him and put her chest closer to his back, she placed her right hand on his shoulder and moved down his arm, when she got to the bag in his hand she moved quickly. She pressed the little button on her palm and her claws popped out, her left hand was on his neck and her right was holding the briefcase handle. A third thud sounded, but this time Rhino took a tree to the ground with him. Prowler saw Spider-Man first so he released the briefcase and ran past Rhino.

“You own me Cat!” the Prowler screamed and looked back at her. His scream made Spider-Man look at her, the robotic eyes in his mask moved like he was trying to focus on her.

“Damn it” MJ cursed under her breath. She didn’t want Spider-Man involved in any of her business. His distraction made Rhino run away but he didn’t follow him, he started moving to her.

“You must be the famous Black Cat, right?” she could tell that he was changing his voice an octave lower, just like she changed her voice but she didn’t care who he was in real life

“If I’m famous then I’m not doing my job well enough” she needed to escape with the money so she started to use her most useful weapon, her charm. She wasn’t an idiot, the leather suit made all her curves stand out, her long legs with high heels made her taller than most men and she used all she could to escape from situations like this one without hurting anyone

“Well, famous for me. I have being searching for you, some petty theft, you are on and off the scene, not making big deals or causing lots of trouble. Wonder why” he knew basic information about her, she could handle that

“Well, I know more about you” she moved closer to him. She was taller than him for very little, maybe without heels he was taller, just maybe “you are an Avenger, one of the old ones. Not as old as Thor or Iron Man but old enough to have their respect. Very close to Iron Man, Doctor Strange and Capitan America. Connections with Wakanda because you are kind of a genius and you probably have rejected bigger projects to keep an eye on New York, so you probably live close too. And half the journalist love you, the other half hates you” She have studied him, there wasn’t enough information but what she got was enough to set him off

“Now I’m ashamed I don’t know any more information about you” he was following the conversation how she needed it to go. She moved to his back, let the briefcase on the grass and placed her hands on his waist

“Do you mind?” Spider-Man flinched at her touch and tried to move away from her. She could feel his hard muscles under the red and black suit

“What? I’m cold and you seem hot enough to help me warm up” she spoke to his ear and she felt him flinch. One of her claws climbed up his arm

“Easy Cat, those claws don’t seem friendly” she had to laugh at that. He knew what she was doing and she was ready to run away if necessary

“Just like those web shooters, I have seen what they can do”

“That’s why you are standing behind me?”

“Very good. You are a genius after all” she heard a little laugh behind his mask but his robotic eyes didn’t show any emotion

“Just very observant. Learned from a friend” she thought about Peter, how at first she observed him all the time and with the time, he learned to look around and take mental notes for later. He appreciated that tip as a photographer with The Bugle

“Very useful. So I should stop all this and just go, right? No need to distract you. Too smart and observant for that, Spidey” She grabbed the briefcase from the grass and started moving to a corner of the park

“Just one question before you go”

“Shoot” She walked backwards not running but not giving him a chance to get her

“Why?”

“Why are you Spider-Man and not a regular citizen?” she didn’t wait for the answer. She threw her rope to a nearby building and did the same flip she had done early on the ice rink. The toe of her foot gave her the impulse to jump while her other leg spun her around on its own axis to land on the corner of the building the rope was holding onto. With her claws she climbed the wall and searched for Spider-Man but didn’t find him.

She made her way home close to 1am. As soon as she arrived, she took her suit of along with her wig and mask, the briefcase was next to her window. She tried to be really quiet, she didn’t wanted to wake Peter up. She put on one of Peter’s shirts she had stolen from him a lot time ago. It was one of his science pun shirts and she liked the soft fabric and maybe the fact that when she took it, it smelled like Peter.

She was lying down on her bed, tired of the day but couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t stop thinking about Spider-Man and Peter. Spidey was nothing like Peter but at the same time there was something familiar with him, something that made her think about Peter when she touched him, when he question her for her actions and when he didn’t answer back to her.

“God, I need to sleep. I’m mixing everything up and that’s definitely not good” She spoke softly to the celling. Thinking about Peter was kind of an issue, but comparing Spider-Man and Peter was insane. Peter had clumsy movements when Spidey was agile in every one of his. Peter was shy while Spidey openly flirted with her. Peter had a strong moral compass while Spidey let her go even when he though she was a thief. They were totally different and she was just wasting time thinking about them.

------------------------------------------

Thanks to @spiderman-homecomeme fro the amazing opportunity to write :3

#spideychelle #spideychelle twelve days of promptmas #peter parker #michelle jones mcu

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dammitadolfnomorecake · 4 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 17 - prt1

Keeping up with the tradition, they all wound up back at Lance’s house. Keith and Pidge were bonding with Blue, his cat a ho when it came to pats... on her terms of course. Keith seemed mystified over what to do when a cat sat in your lap. Blue was a traitor, bunting up into Keith’s chin because she was a traitorous whore with no taste. In the kitchen with Hunk, Lance nursed a mug of warm wine mixed with blood, as Hunk baked. He couldn’t stop himself. He needed to unwind and Lance was happy to provide his kitchen for that

“Did you really break your phone, man?”

Lance looked over the rim of his mug

“Yep. Dropped it on my bedroom floor. It shattered on the spot”

“You said we’d talk... I’m feeling kind of left out man”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel left out”

“Ever since Keith came along, you’ve been acting weird. I know sometimes Pidge can be full on, but I thought we were tight”

“We are tight”

“Then what haven’t you been telling me? I’ve told you things I wouldn’t think of telling Pidge”

Lance felt as if Keith had gotten his wish and staked him through the heart

“It’s not like that...”

“Then what is it like?”

The vampire didn’t have a whole lot of options. He could confess he was a vampire and give Hunk a heart attack. He could keep lying, which was clearly hurting Hunk. He could claim Keith was threatening him, but then Pidge and Hunk would want to take things into their own hands... Fuck... He didn’t want to hurt Hunk. Lying really did hurt. His friends were so special to him that he hated having to distance himself... semi lies were as bad as the real thing

“Okay... okay... the truth is I’m not really over being sick. I’m still feeling sick most of the time and I’m not used to having company all the time. I didn’t want to tell you because you worry about me so damn much. I’ll recover, good as new, but I’m supposed to have spent this last week resting up as much as possible. I can’t help myself, I love hanging out with you and Pidge, so when you invite me I can’t say no. I pushed myself a little too hard to fast, but I promise I’m working on getting better”

Hunk’s eyes immediately welled with tears

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because all I need is to catch on some sleep. You and Pidge are my best friends. I want to make as many memories with you as I can. I also had a call that wasn’t great, so that’s been on my mind too”

“A call?”

“A work call. The woman was strung out of her mind, I had to call in a welfare check on her. It’s been exhausting, but nothing a few good nights sleep won’t cure”

“Man... I wish you’d told me. We could have gone back home...”

“It’s okay”

“It’s not okay. If you’re sick, you need to be resting. I’ll tell Pidge while you get ready for bed”

“Dude, I’m okay”

“Please, stop being stubborn! Pidge and I both know you’ve never been really well. You’re always so pale. But you never tell us anything. We’re your friends, we want you to rely on us”

He’d been told that by Hunk before, playing it off as a low immune had bought him about a years worth of silence on the matter

“I do. I love you guys like family. That’s why... that’s why it’s so hard. We’ll watch what Pidge filmed, then head to bed”

“Absolutely not. I’ll have dad come pick us up. Keith can crash at mine for the night”

“You don’t need to do that”

“I don’t need to, but I want to. Let me help”

Passing Keith off was a terrible idea. Keith didn’t mix well with others. If he snapped anything was likely to come out... but what Lance wouldn’t give for a night without having to worry about waking Keith

“His brother Shiro should be swinging around tomorrow to pick him up. It’ll be fine, it’s only one more night. Plus, if we don’t watch the film now we won’t be able to watch it all together as a group”

Sure, most of Keith’s face was hidden behind the mask but Lance could tell all his expressions from the way his muscles moved. His brain told him that at any rate. His imagination must have been filling in the blanks automatically based on what he knew of Keith’s personality

“You need rest”

“I’ll be resting on my chair. Nothing strenuous happening, other than being in trouble with Pidge for talking. We’ll watch the video, pick out what to keep and what to edit, then I’ll go straight up to bed”

Hunk sighed, picking up the closest tea towel off the kitchen bench as he did

“You better. I’ll still have dad pick us up. And you need to answer your phone”

“I only have my work phone and the home phone”

“Exactly. Two other ways of calling”

“I can’t promise I’ll hear them, but if I see you’ve called, I’ll call back. Deal?”

Holding his hand out, Hunk took it, his handshake firm

“Deal. Don’t go around worrying me like that, man. I’m still recovering from tonight. Did you see that grey stuff?”

“It was the light off the camera. From having the viewfinder open and in night mode. That’s my bet. That combined with dust. Anyway, anything haunting that place would have made themselves scarce thanks to Pidge. I wouldn’t want to be a ghost and on the wrong side of her”

“I thought she was literally going to blow steam from her ears. She was so cranky”

“Especially when Keith tripped. I thought she was going to go turn him into a ghost on the spot”

Lance snorted as he smiled. Keith would be the dopiest ghost. He’d probably actually turn into one, but go around thinking he was human

“So did I. Our little gremlin is viscous. How long do the cookies need?”

“10 minutes. Go on ahead, I’ll be in soon”

“Alright, buddy. Don’t forget to use the dishwasher instead of doing the dishes by hand. Tonight was hard on you too. You deserve to kick back and relax”

“Yep, will do”

Pidge had Lance’s laptop on her lap when Lance headed into the living room

“Pidge! You’re not supposed to be on there!”

Pidge jumped at being sprung in the act

“I was ordering you a new phone. What kind of idiot doesn’t use a lifeproof case?”

“Me when they’re not very lifeproof. You know there’s sensitive files on there”

“Relax. All I did was open the browser. I don’t want to know about your cases”

“That’s beside the point. How you feel if you were one of them. And, it’s not like I can’t buy a new phone from the post office”

“You can, but I’m picking out a good one”

“Nope. No. I just need a cheap one where I can message you guys, take photos of Blue, and watch cat videos”

“Pffft. No. Trust me, you need to embrace the future, no more living in the past. Now, what colour do you want?”

“I don’t care about colour”

“You’re hopeless! Here’s one for $1500”

“Absolutely no way. I can’t justify spending that much on a phone. No. I’m fine with a $120 cheapie”

“You’re not fine and those things are an insult to technology. Help me out Keith”

Keith’s expression said he was in for trouble. Keith would do anything to mess with his life further, including taking revenge by making Lance pay out an unreasonable amount of money. Give it enough time and everything flashy would become standard for much cheaper

“I don’t know if he’s allowed something, or if he’d just wind up breaking it”

“Damn! Nice one. Okay, I’m ordering your phone now...”

“Pidge!”

“... and it’s done. You can thank me later with a shitload of photos of Blue. She’s such a diva. You should make her her own socials”

Lance didn’t love socials. He didn’t love the fakeness. He wished people could see and love the things in them that they might hate because society had made them feel like shit. He only had socials because of Pidge and his Mami. Most of what he posted was of Blue and her perfect little toe beans... with the occasional, less than lady like, tongue blep as she glared at him. He wasn’t putting pressure on Blue to be perfect for an audience

“Seriously?”

“Yep. A new case is coming too. This one should be Lance proof. Do we need to think about putting child safety devices in place?”

“I don’t know, Pidgeon. Do I need to think about digging a shallow grave when I see the price?”

“Maybe... is it for me, or for you?”

“I don’t know yet”

“Then I don’t know either. Hurry up and sit down already, you can have your precious laptop back. I don’t see why you need the desktop set up and a laptop. Both are practically antiques”

“You did both builds last year”

Pidge moaned

“Exactly, antiques. A painful reminder of my youth”

“Keith, do me a favour and punch Pidge in the arm for me. She’s being an idiot”

Keith ignored him, scratching the base of Blue’s back where it met her tail, Blue purring. Everybody in the room sucked. If it worked and did what it was meant to, Lance was fine with it not being the latest and greatest

“Ha! He knows better than to hit me”

“Yeah, because he’s as scared of you as the rest of us”

Pitch ditched a cushion in his direction, that missed him completely

“Rude”

“Merp”

Keith simply snorted at the both of them, Blue was taking up too much of the hunter’s attention. Still, he was going to be the bigger man, no wet food for Blue until she came back and loved him again.

The next week of Lance’s life passed slowly. Very fucking slowly in parts. His thirst wasn’t getting better, Keith wanted to fight every day, he didn’t have the energy to keep up with his work, feeling like he was letting all his clients down. Something in his gut was trying to tell him something, and Lance wasn’t sure what it was. He hadn’t heard from Shiro. Keith’s answer to that problem was that Shiro would come back when it was safe. But “safe for who?” was a totally different question. Lance had found that gradually he was getting used to Keith’s presence. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like this kind of uneasy peace. Keith grudgingly ate Lance’s cooking. The idiot had burned toast... in the toaster. It didn’t take a degree to be able to put two pieces in and pull down the lever, but somehow he’d done it. He’d set off the fire alarms, waking Lance, who immediately went into panic mode. Smacking his arm on the wall, he’d burst the blood blister building beneath his skin, smearing blood on the wall, as he swore. Rushing into the kitchen, the toaster was on fire, Lance ripping the cord out the all and dumping the lot in the sink.

Swapping the washing from the machine to the dryer, Lance closed his eyes and counted to 10 before opening them again. He could hear Keith shuffling around in the kitchen. He could hear his phone vibrating on the bench. The way his coffee machine slowly came to life told him he had all of 5 minutes before Keith would be all up in his face demanding that they fight. He could be in the middle of vacuuming and Keith would still pop up and demand to fight. He seemed to be working out a style for himself and organising his thoughts as he did. He still hadn’t decided on Keith, but he had to give him some credit. He kept trying and he kept getting back up... He was still to get an actual blow in that Lance hadn’t allowed. Maybe he was sick from Keith continually beating him up? And maybe he was kind of enjoying things more than he let himself believe. Or maybe his defences were lower than normal thanks to still being sick.

“Lance! Message!”

So Keith was his answering service now? Where was that in the terms and agreements of having his house hijacked?

“I know! I heard! Some dick didn’t bring all his washing out!”

“That’d be you!”

Like fuck it was. His lapses didn’t count when it was his house and he was going through stuff. Watching Keith try to wash and live in two sets of clothes was painful, so now he had three sets, plus underwear and socks of his own. He had a whole damn drawer in the spare bedroom, the Hunter basically moved in

“Fuck off!”

So much for his calming breath.

Heading into the kitchen, Keith had coffee made for the both of them. Yeah, Lance would have preferred tea but Keith seemed adamant on conquering the coffee machine

“Who was the call from?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t check it”

Lance raised an eyebrow

“I thought that was your thing, snooping on people’s calls?”

“Very funny old man. You look worse than you did yesterday”

“Isn’t that good for you?”

“No. I can’t learn anything if you’re half dead”

“If only I’d known that all along. I would have been off the hook long ago”

“Ha ha fucking ha”

“Shut up drink and your coffee”

Snatching his phone up, Lance’s chest went tight, his stomach dropped and his knees nearly went with it

“What’s wrong?”

Opening the message recorded, Lance held it to his ear as his hands shook

“Hi, Lance, it’s Sally here. Your grandmother’s taken a bit of a fall. She was awake when we found her, but we’ve transferred her to Platt General hospital. I’m sorry to drop this on you. If you want to give them a call, they might have more information for you...”

Lance’s phone slipped from his hand, Keith catching it before he could break another one

“Lance?”

“I’ve got to go”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t concern you... fuck...”

He was getting teary. His Mami wasn’t as strong as she’d once been

“Hey...”

Brushing Keith off, Lance started scrambling to get ready, his head already dreaming up worst case scenarios. Had his Mami fallen or had it been something more? Had something happened? Was she not telling him something?

Racing out the front door, he made straight for his car. The key didn’t seem to want to go into the ignition, Lance screaming at it in frustration

“Move over, I’ll drive”

Lance nearly told Keith to fuck himself. He didn’t know why he’d followed him out. Sliding across the bench seat, Keith climbed into the drivers seat

“What’s happened?”

“It’s... I need to get to Platt general”

“You’ll have to give me directions. What’s going on? Who’s in hospital?”

“My Mami...”

Whatever smart reply Keith had for that died on the man’s tongue. Giving a nod, Keith got the key into the ignition, the old bronco starting with a rumble.

The drive to Platt was horrible. It passed in a blur as Lance prayed to whoever was out there that it wouldn’t be something major. Barking directions at Keith, Keith copped all his bad mood and worry, the hunter barely parked before Lance was rushing to get out the car. He hadn’t even bothered to clip in his damn seatbelt for the drive

“Lance, take a breath”

“Fuck you”

“Your teeth are fucking showing”

Oh... he was making a vampire face... fuck... he felt like he was about to throw up across his feet. He needed to see his Mami, and Keith’s presence was the only thing keeping him from completely losing himself. The hunter deserved a break

“Do you know what ward she’s on?”

“No. They didn’t say...”

“Okay, we’ll find out together”

Lance should have known Keith knew all about his family. Keeping his hand on Lance’s good arm, to keep him from running off, Keith talked to the woman at the front information desk, finding his Mami’s room with more patience than Lance had. He’d been here before with his Mami, so he should have remembered the way up to the floor, Keith nearly getting them lost because Lance couldn’t stop the flood of tears rolling down his face over the fact his Mami wasn’t dead. Finding the right ward, the nurse at the desk looked up at them like she was perplexed by their presence, telling them that only family was allowed to see his Mami. With choked words Lance explained that he was her grandson and emergency contact, which was apparently Luis on the hospital side of things. It wasn’t supposed to be him. Lance lived the closest, and he was the one who always made time for his Mami. When the woman looked to Keith, Lance explained that he was Mami’s other grandson, Keith not at all comfortable with the sudden promotion to family. Signing in, the nurse led them to his Mami’s room. She’d fractured her hip in the fall, and done a bang up job on her face, Lance nearly face planting as his emotions grew further out of control.

Propped up on pillows, Lance let out a fresh sob at his Mami’s face. Keith telling the nurse he’d call if they needed anything. His Mami looked so frail, far too frail, her complexion washed out, but when she saw him, she was raising her arms towards him

“Oh, Mijo...”

Walking over to his Mami, Lance wrapped his arms around her the best he could

“I’m okay. It’s just the silly head of mine. I got a little muffled”

“I was so scared”

“I know, you’ve always had a sweet heart. But you know it takes more than a fall to stop me”

Lance snorted a laugh, well aware he was snotting on his Mami’s shoulder

“I was still scared. Sally called to let me know”

“She’s got a big mouth, that one. They say I’m off to surgery soon, time for the good drugs”

“Mami!”

His mother chuckled, her strength wasn’t what it was, so Lance reluctantly drew out of her embrace to sit beside her

“Now, enough of that face. It’s a fractured hip, I’ve still got plenty of life in this old bird”

“You’re not old”

“Says you”

“Touché... fuck... I felt like...”

He felt as scared as when his Papi passed

“You didn’t lose me just yet. My face is sorer than the leg. I’m a tough old duck”

“That doesn’t make me feel better”

“That’s because you worry too much. Now, who is your handsome friend here?”

Right. Fuck... He didn’t know if his teeth were still showing... but this was his Mami and he’d never been that great at keeping secrets from her

“This is Keith... he knows...”

“Nice to meet you “Keith He Knows”... I’m hoping you did the driving and not Lance”

“Uh, yes, Ma’am”

His Mami laughed, her slight wince in the corner of her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Lance. She had to be in a lot of pain, despite what she was saying and how she was acting

“Gracious. Where did he find you. Miriam is fine, dear. Now, I know my son is a worrywart, so could be a dear and find him a cup of tea for his nerves?”

“I think I can...”

“Thank you. It’s nice to see Lance is making friends. He’s so insistent that he’s fine alone. I hope you’re a good friend to him”

Keith took the the opening to flee, Lance didn’t blame him. They weren’t friends... he didn’t know what they were

“Mijo, I’m okay. Where did you meet Keith “who knows”?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does when my baby boy is making friends... or is there something you’re not telling you Mami”

Lance groaned

“You sound like Pidge”

“Ah, she’s a smart girl. Sooo... you and Keith?”

“Aren’t like that... He’s a human for one thing”

“And?”

“And a single drop of my blood could change all that, plus, I’m pretty sure he actually hates me”

“Ooooh, my little Mijo is growing up!”

His Mami must have been high

“Mami, he’s a hunter”

“I can see how that could make things difficult... Is he here to kill you?”

How could his Mami sound so blasé about his death?

“He wanted to. But things happened. Now he’s annoying houseguest”

“I hope you’ve been treating him right”

“Mami!”

“Good chinaware and fresh sheets...”

Lance groaned

��Mami, it’s not like that. How can you be so calm?”

“Because I can tell he’s not going to kill you”

“How?”

“Just call it a Mami feeling”

“I think Mami’s feeling high”

“A bit. A bit annoyed this happened before bingo. That Andy Jefferies always wins the good stuff. His walker might have to go for a walk”

“Mami!”

“I’m just saying... oh, never mind. Luis should be here soon”

Fucking Luis...

“Don’t make a face like that, Mijo. He is your brother”

“I know and someone changed me from their emergency contact here”

“Well Luis and Lisa are thinking of making the move here...”

“I’m already here”

“I know you are, dear. But you can’t chase after your Mami forever”

“I’m pretty sure I can. I mean, vampire and that”

Lance injected scoff into his tone. He didn’t want to seem as jealous as he was. He’d always thought he’d had a special bond with his Mami, and the rest of his family all had families of their own... except for Rachel. She’d had a troubled life, thanks to him

“You know what I mean”

“I do, but you don’t get to think that you’re rid of me anytime soon”

“I wouldn’t dream of such freedom”

His Mami was viscous

“Now, give me hug. This old body doesn’t always like cooperating”

#once bitten twice stupid #17prt1

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