#now watch me not post another drawing in a week or two

[elisa6102]

Silent admiration 💕

[bellswlw]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ it’s cold here without you ⇨ e. williams

ellie williams x afab!reader

wc: 6k

part 1.5 | part two | masterlist

summary: after Ellie manages to finally get you to pose for her after arriving in Jackson months ago, you two attend the winter dance and it’s then that you realize you might like ellie as more than just a friend…

cw: bff!ellie, mutual pining, jealousy, drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, inexperienced reader, artist!ellie, some fluff, edging (r!receiving kinda), love confessions, making out in semi public space (???) basically grumpy x sunshine, gardener!reader —lmk if there are more tags to add pls—

a/n: this was going to be angsty and sad but then this just happened so enjoy! (please be nice this is my first public wlw post and first fic i’ve been proud of in a minute so pls, pls just don’t be mean. i’ve been so nervous to post this all week help) proofread but there’s probably still some mistakes tbh

From the moment you walked into Jacksons gates, Ellie knew something. Something so small rang in her ears. So much so it almost hurt, it made her want to wince at the sight of you like you were a walking orb of fire and you had just exploded right in front of her.

She knew when you met Shimmer for the first time, she knew in the dining hall, and at the library and the school and the church. Especially at the church. She knew she would never be able to let you go. But she knew she would have to, eventually.

|

You spun slowly around in Ellie’s desk chair, your head resting back as the smoke filled your lungs more and more with each rotation.

“Please. I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone else there.” you say up into the ceiling while you wait for a response. You hear the crackle of weed burning straight through Ellie’s chest before anything else.

Her voice drops a little low when she finally speaks, the smoke falling from her lips like fog rolling over a still lake. “I’m sure Dina will be there. And Jesse. And literally everyone else.” Ellie was stretched out on the futon from across the room, caring less about the stupid winter dance.

You look at her then, a little dizzy and absolutely appalled that she wouldn’t want to go and watch people get drunk and dance to No Scrubs while high out of your minds.

She was never the type for large happy gatherings, but you figured she would go if she got to sit and watch for entertainment.

“Not everyone.” you whispered to yourself with a quick raise of your eyebrow before glancing at your hands quick enough to avoid Ellie's eyes that were suddenly boring into you.

Ellie sat up; the joint now glued to her lips.

“It’s a fuckin’ winter dance. In the Church. C’mon, how fun could it really be?”

You look up. Seeing how her eyes never left your face. Like you were meeting her there, through a dirty window with the reflection of her hazily standing beside you. A window that hasn't been buffed out yet, just a little foggy. Just a little.

“Well, it would be more fun if you went with me. Please. Just for an hour? Then we can come back here and do whatever you wanna do. Even if it's just sitting around. And you can draw me… if you want to.” you added the last part in a hushed tone, like the words were timid to come out.

But you had been secretly hoping she would since you got here.

You loved watching her draw, her fingers tracing over the paper so gently, like it was skin. Almost like it was yours. You wished it was… sometimes.

She looked away from you, drawing in another drag before she rested her elbows on her knees, legs spread wide.

Ellie had been wanting to draw you since the day you got here. The shape of your hips and the slope of your neck had haunted her pages for months. Erasing and sketching them again and again from memory. She wouldn’t let the opportunity pass her up and spit her out.

She sighed, trying to gauge if you had really meant it. Your tell wasn’t working since you were already beat red from just offering yourself up.

“Fine. Let’s just do it now, while we have time to spare.” was what she said instead, swallowing back her excitement and clearing her throat.

Ellie reaches over to you, handing you the joint and gently flexes her hand in your direction to tell you to finish it.

There wasn’t much left, maybe a little more than a roach. You took it from her a little eagerly, wanting the smoke to smooth your lungs and the quickend beat in your chest caused by Ellie’s hand grazing yours.

It didn’t take very long or much for you to feel it. You were such a lightweight.

Ellie of course found it hilarious when she realized. Catching on and laughing at you from across the room when you started giggling at the word “Infectious.”

Maria had said your laugh was “infectious” in the stables and considering the circumstances, it was true. Only, this time Ellie wasn’t immune to it. She had followed suit and ducked her head over her shoulder away from you to collect herself while shimmer groaned in relief.

“It’s just so—“ you cut yourself off, burying your face in your knees while sitting on the floor against the side of Ellie’s bed frame.

The distance was necessary since you had only met a few days prior.

Ellie looked up at you, with her brows pulled together in confusion before she put two and two together.

“Wait. Are you high?” she asked with a chuckle.

The room was clouded with a thin layer of smoke, barely enough to be able to see to the naked eye.

Your eyes had shot open wide, terrified.

“You are! Holy shit, this is good.” her voice carved the words into you then, the goosebumps running through your legs until they reached your core and exploded there with millions of needles with nowhere to go. You were soaked.

Ellie hadn’t laughed that hard in a minute, with her hand flat on her stomach to try and help the coiling feeling deep in her stomach.

“That’s fucking hilarious.” she murmured, her head falling back against the futon before taking a hit so big her cheeks had funneled in.

“Shut up.”

You were bright red with embarrassment and Ellie couldn’t look you in the eye without the image burning into her mind for the next week.

You think back on it now and what took place only a few hours before, letting a dry chuckle fall from your lips and echo into the quiet of the room.

Ellie’s still for a moment, but then joins in and laughs hard enough for her body to jolt with each exhale.

“What?” her tell floats to the surface immediately as she wipes the bow above her lip nervously.

“Do… do you remember that one time–” You stifle back a small laugh with your hand, slightly doubled over in the chair and your other flat against the coffee table for support.

“What?” she asks again, an unsteady smile creeping its way in.

“When… when we were– I can’t!” you confess, letting out a burst of laughter and slowly sliding down onto the floor.

“What?!” Ellie exclaims, a laugh finally falling from her lips while her hands tense out in front of her.

“When we were in the stab… stables. And I met Shimmer? And then I was petting her ears and all of this sudden, she rips absolute ass! Do you remember that?!” you let out a laugh, deeper from within your stomach causing you to hold onto it with both hands as the giggles ate you alive.

Ellie lets the smile on her face break, and then after hearing you kick your feet against the floor she erupts too, leaning over a bit to join in.

“You got so scared!” she exclaims, which only sends you further into a fit of laughter, breathing heavily for a few seconds and then starting right back up again.

“It was… It was so loud! An– and long?!?”

Ellie eventually joins you on the floor, laughing hard enough to where a vein is popping from her neck, just noticeable enough to where if you reached your hand out to touch it, you could even feel her pulse.

She looks over at you, seeing your eyes pinched shut and your smile wider than she’s ever seen it before. It was incredible.

As your laughter subsides, your eyes find their way to Ellie’s. Watching you, of course.

“Oh,” you say with the smallest giggle attached, then letting it fall away to join the burning embers that lifted the hair off your skin.

She smiled at you, fully now with no hesitation. “Can I draw you?” she asked, not looking away once. Her voice became a little rusted, and it chipped on its way out of her throat like a stone on pavement.

You fought the urge to crack. “Sure.” you said instead, and looked away from her quickly just to pull your eyes back to her slightly parted lips.

Ellie’s smile faltered a moment, resting on her side next to you. She didn't want to get up. She wanted to keep this image of you alive inside her head for the rest of her life. She wanted to keep you forever. Obviously she knew she couldn’t. She’d fuck it up sooner or later.

“What?” you ask, gaping at her with so much love plastered on your cheeks it almost looked fake. Too saturated. Too real. Ellie had the urge to swipe the pad of her thumb across it just to see if it would smudge. She knew it wouldn’t. She just wanted an excuse.

Instead, Ellie glanced away –finally– and lifted a hand to the right side of your face, tucking a single strand of hair behind your ear gently. You froze.

“Just um, put this right here.” she whispered.

Her eyes were glued on yours. The beautiful emerald that made your heart freeze in time just jumped into a millions beats per minute with the touch of her hand alone.

Ellie’s hand was still hovering over your jaw, like she was afraid you would fade away if she let you go.

But she had to. She knew that, some part of her had to know that.

Her hand fell back at her side, and Ellie cleared her throat one more time.

“Um, stay just stay how you are. I’ll draw you just like this, yeah?” you were too stunned to speak, so you nodded once and swallowed back the butterflies that had just burst in your stomach.

“Okay.” you could hear the smile in her voice as she got up on her feet in one quick motion, leaving you to stare mindlessly at the door.

You felt like you were posing naked for her somehow, like she had stripped you clean and she would be basing her art off of you. You hated how self conscious you suddenly felt, but selfishly you loved how excited she got.

And just like that, you're burning up again, your cheeks catch the flint and light is bursting from beneath your skin.

You smother it. You act calm, and cool, and not like you are the horniest you've ever been around someone you could never have.

You don’t move a muscle when Ellie sets down pads of paper, jars of brushes, ink, parchment paper, water color, and charcoal all within a minute or two and is sitting down next to you again.

She put her hands to her mouth, unable to keep her excitement hidden. “Okay. Um. Just, uh, yeah just stay exactly how you are. Try not to move. Or laugh.” you can’t help but let the smirk sink into your face before playfully scoffing under your breath.

You followed her instructions word for word. You didn’t move. No matter how badly you had to pee. You wouldn’t move until she was done.

And so far, it felt like you had been posing for what felt like 2 hours based on how many pieces of paper Ellie had already used, and the fact that the water was completely dark with no more room for ink. Or that her fingers were coated in charcoal and it had smudged on her face as she tried relentlessly to keep the stray hair behind her ear.

But you watched her. You watched her hands dance across the paper like skin. Your skin. –on paper anyway– You noticed her tongue dipping in and out of her mouth as she concentrated on capturing the curve of your arm and the texture of your jeans that made you want to crawl out of them.

Ellie couldn't get the images of you on paper fast enough. There were so many. She had to get it absolutely perfect: the slope of your nose, your crooked hairline caused from laying on your side, the delicacy of your fingers as they rested on the curve of your hip. She had to get all of them out right now or else she would have to keep memorizing and sketching and staring.

Secretly, she wanted to keep a few for herself too. To remind herself that you were real, and that she had you at one point. Ellie only had so much ink and charcoal left, but she didn’t care, she would use it all. She would draw you a million times if it meant you would look at her like this just one more time. She would do anything… anything for you. If she just had the chance, she’d take it. Instead of running away to catch the lungs that were sprinting away from her.

But she would try, with all the power and love she's ever had. She would give it all to you, and you wouldn’t even have to ask. Ellie would give it up willingly, she would beg you to take it from her and say “I don't know what to do with it.”

“Hm?” you ask from your position on the floor. “Do with what?” and her eyes flickered towards you.

She forgot you were really there. That you weren’t another dream. That you could see her.

Ellie cleared her throat and her voice broke when she spoke again.

“Um, the drawing. It’s done. I don’t know what to do with it.” she looked at you one last time before you shot up from the floor and sat next to her.

“Can I see it?!” you said, cheery like a child who had just had their picture taken in a cardboard cutout stand.

“Yeah.”

Ellie turned the pad over to you, and just when she thought she hated it you covered your mouth with both hands and let in a sharp inhale.

You were quiet for a moment, and Ellie was still a little worried you saw right through her until you turned to look at her with tears pooling in your eyes.

“Oh, Ellie. Holy shit. This is the best one yet.”

She let herself feel a little proud then, a smile fighting its way onto her face once again. She never knew why she was always fighting it, it would happen nearly every single time.

“That’s just because I made you look so good.” and she nudged you a little.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m serious. It’s beautiful Els.” and you turned away to look back at the drawing before blinking away the tears in your eyes.

There’s a moment there, where the two of you are staring at… you. “No one’s ever drawn me before. It's weird looking at myself like this.” and you then felt Ellie’s eyes burn the side of your face, begging for you to look at her.

You tilt your head slightly, not stripping your eyes away from the page until the very last second.

Ellie was blushing. She was fucking blushing.

She looked away the second your eyes had found hers.

“Here, you can have it.” and she folded the page into your hand and held it there for a beat.

A beat too long.

The glass was clearing up, the fog dissipating into thin air at lightning speed.

You cleared your throat in hopes to silently slice the tension that was building around the two of you.

“Thanks.” you let your eyes fall to your lap. “We should uh, probably get ready.”

Ellie looks away again, patting her thighs as she exhales swiftly. “Yeah. Yeah, let's do it.”

|

“Come on, I don’t wanna be the last one there! It’s already started.”

You leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, actually watching Ellie fix her hair. It was pulled back into a low bun, and the layered pieces kept falling forward, not wanting to swoop back with the rest of it.

“I just, I can’t get this fucking— oh, god dammit!” she exclaimed, letting her hands fly out at her sides and grip the edge of the bathroom counter to take a breath.

“Here, let me help you.”

You took a step off the frame, pulling a pin from your hair and gently stepping up to Ellie to slide the pin into place. You must have accidentally got her scalp because she squeezed one eye shut and let a small wince escape her lips.

“Sorry.” you said, and tapped the pin to make sure it was snug.

You felt Ellie’s eyes on you from the reflection of the mirror. Of course. They were burning into you like the reflection of a magnifying glass.

Ellie’s hands grip harder on the countertop, watching your delicate fingers play with the pin. Collecting strands of her hair and then gently sweeping them behind it as gently as she can so as not to poke you again.

“Thanks.” she says instead, and lets go of the counter with a gentle push. Her hands have a red mark from her grip that when she flexes her hands, she feels her skin pull with resistance.

“Yeah.” you look away, even though you feel the warmth radiating off of her. Sending something through you.

“Okay. Let's go before we’re stuck outside. I heard they are checking for ID." There's a joke somewhere in her voice, but it gets buried by the sudden feeling of your hand twisted in yours.

“Ellie, your hand is freezing.” you say, entirely missing the joke she was trying to make and placing your other hand around hers.

She looked down to see her hand barely covered by both of yours, and she lets the feeling of your skin melt into hers like molten lava.

She was always lighting you on fire. Now, you were warming her up, meeting her halfway.

|

The dance was better than Ellie had expected. The room was full of people in cowboy boots and actually square dancing. Not just in the movies like she thought.

And you were smiling from ear to ear, happy to see so many people laughing and having fun while they still could. So of course Ellie was happy to be there. She fucking lived to see you smile like you were right now.

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you want anything?” Ellie said against your neck, yelling over the music.

“No! I’m gonna dance.” and she nodded, eager to let go of your hand. She didn’t want to lose you in the crowd. She didn’t want to lose you, period. But of course, she would eventually.

Your hand fell from hers as you made your way into the line dance, knocking your feet back and forth on its heel and toe while clapping your hands along to the music that was actually ‘not that bad’.

Ellie’s standing at the bar, a drink in her hand with no intention of actually drinking it. She wasn’t that big a drinker, but she wanted to keep herself busy while trying so hard not to stare at you from across the room.

It wasn't working, obviously.

She was actually glad she came, because she had never seen you this… bright. You were floating across the dancefloor like some kind of angel. She couldn’t place you. Not here anyway. You looked so out of place, with your smile wide and cheeks completely beet red from dancing, it's like you were more saturated than everyone else, like you were literally glowing.

She snaps out of it when she sees you heading over to her, a smile plastered on your face and sweat beading just above your top lip.

“Oh jeez, they weren’t kidding.” you say to her, out of breath and laughing a little.

“Who?” she asks.

“Tommy and Maria. When we were all putting the flyers up they said it would definitely be an owl here.” and you couldn’t keep it together, laughing into your hand and leaning forward into Ellie’s shoulder.

“That… was terrible.” she smirks.

She loved it.

You pull back, flexing your hands out wide at your sides before letting out a short exhale. “No, but seriously. You guys might not party very often, but when you do it gets crazy. I was drowning out there!”

“You seemed to be doing fine to me.” Ellie offered up. She was flushed.

“Oh yeah? You try going out there. It’s not as easy as it looks.” and you tilted your head playfully, emphasizing your point.

She looked down at her glass then, breaking away quick enough to avoid your eyes.

“That’s what I thought. Now, where is the bathroom?”

And Ellie took the smallest sip from her glass just before pointing to her right and bending her wrist the same direction. “Through the doors and on the right.”

You smiled at her, touching her arm with clammy hands. “Hey, dance with me when I come back?” your grasp on her was slipping away, waiting for her answer before letting go completely.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You beamed, completely unable to hide it this time. You thought you maybe didn’t have to, that you would maybe… finally… be able to clean this goddamn window for good.

You call out to her before disappearing, “Oh hey, you were right! Dina’s here!”

The second Ellie registers what you said, suddenly Dina has appeared into thin air and is dancing with someone a few feet away.

And again, a few moments later, Jesse appears from your left, a matching glass in his hand.

“She’s uh… putting on quite the show.” he says, and it's then that she looks up at her, watching as she gets dipped and the music fades out.

“I give you guys two weeks until you're back together.” and she chuckles.

“Not gonna happen.”

She looks away from him briefly, glancing into her drink that’s gone warm.

“She uh, say something to you?” Jesse asks before looking at her again.

“Make it one week.”

While Ellie’s attention is turned towards Jesse, just then Dina comes over and draws it back toward her.

���Ellie, hey!”

Jesse adjusts his posture, standing taller. It’s so obvious he wants her back.

Dina takes the drink from your hand, shooting it back and placing it on the bar behind you with a thud.

“Dina.” he says, lifting his glass, almost like he was offering it up to her.

“Jesse.” is all she says instead, eyeing him slowly.

“C’mon,” she says, and grabs Ellie’s hand.

“Wait, I was gonna–” but it's no use, because Jesse is talking over you from the bar.

“Hey! Don’t forget we're headin’ out early, so get some rest!” and before Ellie can even look back at him all the way, Dina is already talking again.

“Yes sir.”

Ellie is looking down at her feet, trying not to trip over them as Dina continues to pull her farther into the crowd of people.

“You're such a dick.” she murmured.

Dina’s hands fell easily on her shoulders moments after she placed Ellie’s on her waist.

Just then, you came out from the bathroom trying to pick through the crowd to find her, seeing the empty glass and missing spot from the bar.

You make your way over to Jesse, who you were kind of surprised to see there since he wasn’t much of a partier.

You go to ask where Ellie went, if she had somehow missed her walking into the bathroom… but the words die in your throat when you see her smack dead in the middle of the floor, with Dina rubbing her cheek against Ellie’s and a sly smile on her face.

“I hate these things.” Jesse said.

You glance over at him, noticing he was watching Ellie and Dina too.

“Tell me about it.” you say, looking back at Dina.

She has her arm wrapped around Ellie’s neck, a single hand pulling the same strand of hair that has been falling out of place all day.

The same one you pinned. The same girl who had drawn you just 2 hours ago.

The same girl… that was kissing Dina.

She… she kissed her.

Your windows shattered, shards falling to the floor like needles and with the heartbeat that had been run over and sliced clean in half.

You feel yourself wince at the sight, and before you think twice, you're up from the bar and leave through the back.

You fucking blew it.

|

Ellie’s hands were stuffed deep inside her pockets, walking around Jackson like a lost puppy.

She hadn’t seen you since the dance. Which to you both felt like a lot longer.

She looked for you afterward, apologizing to Dina before pulling away from her to ask if anyone had seen where you went, if anyone saw you leave with Jesse and wondering what the fuck just happened.

When you got home, the second you closed the door behind you you couldn't help but let the hot tears stream down your frosted cheeks.

You had tried so hard, so hard to let Ellie see how much of her you liked, and completely obvious you made it seem.

You posed for her. Not naked, but the act still made you think it was worth something. So much so that when you pulled her drawing from your backpocket, slightly smudged from dancing all night and when you had pulled it out on your way home contemplating throwing it away.

You shoved it under your pillow instead, climbing in bed shortly after and rocking yourself to sleep and trying to get the image of Ellie’s lips out of your mind.

Ellie showed up the next morning, knocking on your locked bedroom door.

It had scared her, how raw her voice sounded, and how at the same time it had never sounded softer than when she said “Hey, you in there?”

And when you didn’t reply, you could hear her let out a small sigh before stepping away from the door.

You pulled your covers tight over your head and shut your eyes tight with regret.

Eventually, you realized you had to get up to go to work. It was cold out, but luckily you had gotten to work in the greenhouse since it was a low leveled job and you enjoyed it. Plus the warmth helped too.

The greenhouse door was cracked open by a hair, a dead giveaway you were inside. You still never figured out how to latch it all the way closed, and it seemed to get heavier each time you went to move it.

Ellie pulled her lip to the side, nibbling nervously on the inside of her cheek. She felt so fucking stupid, letting Dina kiss her like that. Letting her dance with her. She was such a fuck up, as per usual.

She was walking around aimlessly, bored, and confused.

She didn't know what to do without you. It was so routine with the two of you.

You would meet Ellie at the stables after her patrol shift was over (which was usually in the mornings) and then you would hang out together at hers. And she would usually find you in the dining hall or the library if you were scheduled there.

But since the dance, she hadn’t known where you were, and it's like she had never been to this version of Jackson without you in it.

She had, years ago, but she could never remember what it was really like. Almost as if it didn’t really exist without you.

And just as she was about to head home, with the sun barely peeking out from behind the clouds, she spotted the multiple greenhouses. With one in particular that had a light striking a clear view of you inside.

Ellie pulled her hands from her pockets, a close lipped smile breaking on her face instantly.

She nudged the door with her body and her head barely visible to you from the other side.

But you felt her there. You didn’t know how, but you could tell she was standing outside the door before you saw her.

“Holy shit it's warm in here. Now I see why you always pick this over patrol.” and she watched as you plucked leaves from the tarragon plant.

“What are you doing?” you asked, not looking at her.

Your hands started to shake mildly, and you tried not to give into her eyes that burned a hole in your heart.

“Looking for you. I Thought I’d find you here.” she said, closing the door all the way (of course she'd be able to) and fumbled with her hands, a little nervous.

“I’m almost done here. I just need to take these clippings and a few other things.” your hands carry a tremble now, and Ellie can see it.

She takes a step closer to you, and it's unavoidable not to look at her now.

“Can we talk about last night?” Ellie asks with her hand flat against the workbench and her brows are pulled together in a frown.

“There's nothing to talk about. I just… I wanted to go home. I didn’t wanna bother you and Dina. you seemed like you were having fun.” as you tied the twine around the clippings, Ellie's hand covered yours on an exploded scale.

You turn your head, looking at her and seeing right through her.

“C’mon. Don’t be like that. Dina… was just being Dina. She didn’t mean anything by it.” Ellie's thumb started to form small circles on your skin, drawing you in, inch by inch.

Ellie took a small step toward you, her other hand reaching up and cooling the burning of your neck.

She leaned in toward you, and her lips grazed yours before kissing you softly. It was wrong, it was so so wrong.

You closed your eyes and a single tear rolled down your cheek fast enough to transfer to Ellie’s.

You pull your hand back from hers, taking a complete step backward and trying to conceal the tears that wanted to run down your cheeks freely.

“Do you like me, Ellie?”

The words had shocked the look off her face, only for her to reposition her brows into a confused glare.

“What?”

“Do you like me.” and there is a quiver in your voice. Her figure becomes blurry, but before she disappears completely you tilt your head and wipe your tears on the sleeve of your shirt.

“I– Yeah. Yeah, I like you. Why would I kiss you if I didn’t like you?”

“Why would Dina?”

Her head drops down between her shoulders as she sighed. She didn’t know. She didn’t. But she knew that she would rather freeze to death than lose you, she knew that much.

She pulled her lips between her teeth “I– I don’t know. I- She- Dina kissed me, okay? And she asked me to dance. I didnt– I wanted to dance with you, I wanted to…” she couldn’t say it.

“What?”

“I wanted to kiss you, alright. I wanted to even before then. Before the dance or before the stables. From the moment you got here I knew. I just didn’t know. I do now, I swear.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to say everything, anything. Your lips were sealed with hot tears streaming down your face.

“Can you say something?” Her voice is merely a whisper like a jagged piece of ice dragging across your skin just light enough to form goosebumps.

You pinch your eyes shut and let your hands shakily wipe the salt water from your face.

“I– I… Ellie. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say, this…”

She takes a small step toward you, grabbing a hold of your wrists gently enough for your back to meet the opposite wall of the greenhouse and boxing you in around the floor to ceiling plants that were on either side of you.

“Just, say something, please.” Ellie gave your wrists a little shake, freeing them from your face.

She looked worried now, and the thought of her thinking you didn’t like her sent a strike of sadness through you.

You move your hands fully away from your face and let them fall at your sides, lacing your fingers with Ellie’s slowly. She’s looking down at them, and swinging them softly from side to side.

“I… I liked you too. From the beginning I mean. In the dining hall when you sat next to me. I liked you then, I still do.” you confessed.

You felt the fire in your cheeks and you couldn’t meet Ellie’s eyes and you made way with her chest.

She leaned down an inch to place her forehead together with yours. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You let out a breath, a scoff even. “I tried! I was trying this entire time. And plus, you just said you realized you liked me. I wasn’t sure.”

Her words rang through you. You shook with anticipation.

“Is that why you left last night? Because you were jealous?” and Ellie’s voice rose to a mocking tone, tugging on your hands in a playful manner.

“Shut up. I was not.” and you look away, the smile bolted across your face proudly.

“You were! Say it, say it please! Tell me how jealous you were. C’mon, tell me tell me tell me!”

And it's then that you smash your lips against Ellie’s to meet her halfway with just the very tip of your toes.

Her lips were warm with lust, her hands breaking from yours to find the soft spots behind your ears with a swipe. Ellie exhaled into your mouth immediately and your head met the back wall of the greenhouse with a soft thud.

Her tongue swiped against your bottom lip, begging for entrance that was obviously unnecessary by how quickly you parted your lips for her. She rubbed slow circles over your jaw, and soon enough her hand was traveling down the curve of your hip and squeezing there. Just enough to express a moan from you.

Ellie smirked against your lips, drawing back for a breath before kissing you harder now, not hesitating or double checking for dominance. You were absolutely floored.

Your shirt had ridden up just mere inches, and her hand was met with the small piece of bare flesh there, causing you to let in a sharp inhale through your nose.

Both of Ellie’s hands are playing with the button of your jeans, fighting to get them undone and pulled down just below your pulsing cunt.

Once her hand finally finds the band of your underwear, it's over. You were already completely unfolding right in front of her.

Your mouth falls open, and a moan slips from your lips, a little louder now as you arch your back to be flush with Ellie. She bends back the band of elastic, traveling down to reach the very top of your pussy she can already feel how wet you are for her.

Just then, both of your hands fly to grip her inked forearm. A silent warning.

“Your hand… ‘s cold.” is all you can make out.

Ellie pulls back to take a look at you. You're absolutely flushed. “D’you want me to stop?” It was genuine. She wanted this to be perfect for you. She wanted to get it right.

“I– I want to keep going, but I-” and Ellie uncoiled her hand from beneath your pants to rest it on your hip.

“I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for.” she let her arms straighten against you, waiting for you to reply.

“I’m ready. Really. I just don’t really wanna… do it here. It’s kinda dirty. And also probably illegal. And I really do have to take that stuff in.”

Ellie smiled. “You’re cute. Why don’t we take them together, and then, if you want, we can go hang out at mine?”

You looked at her with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Push the Sky Away - Part Three

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x original female character (Lorra Stark) Chapter warnings: Mild angst. Smut. Word count: ~6.7k

Summary: Aemond writes a letter and makes a thousand mile journey. Series masterlist.

Author's note: For @sapphirehearteyes. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Lorra,

Since we are parting ways, perhaps forever, I feel I must unburden my heart. You are the fond object of my affection and my desire.  You, and you alone, are the keeper of the key to my heart.  Please don’t be alarmed -– I don’t expect your favour -– but I can’t, in good conscience, not reveal myself.

I do not wish for a betrothal -– nor will I -– unless it is to you. Since the moment I laid eyes upon you, it has always been you. 

With love, Aemond

Aemond casts his eye over the ink as it dries on the parchment, a hot wave of embarrassment flowing through his body and flushing his cheeks. He has never spoken so plainly with regard to his feelings before, though he has never had such strong feelings to express until now. He quickly rolls it up, before he has the opportunity to change his mind and cast it into the fireplace, sealing it with wax and ordering for it to be sent by raven to Winterfell straight away.

The days pass without word from Lorra. Each of Aemond’s visits to the ravens’ tower end in disappointment when he finds no reply from her. Barely contained rage causes him to clench his hands into fists, stalking away from the maester every time he is told that nothing has arrived.

He wonders if his letter arrived in Winterfell before she did, if perhaps the lack of her response is due to her not yet having had a chance to read it. He ponders on whether he had chosen his words carefully enough, if he could have made his feelings clearer. Will she return to him, or grace him with a letter of her own? As the days bleed into a week, and then another week after that, Aemond’s frustrations simmer to despondency as the sad realisation dawns upon him that Lorra has no intent of writing back to him.

“Your mother asked that I give you time, and I feel that we have waited long enough.”

Otto’s voice rouses Aemond’s attention from the flickering flames of the hearth that he has been staring into, lost in thought, and he turns his head watching as his grandsire settles into the seat across from him.

“It has only been a fortnight since Lorra left King’s Landing,” Aemond replies quietly, returning his focus back to the fire.

“Yes, and almost half a year that you have wasted on a failed courtship,” Otto shoots back, his tone sharp. “Time is not on our side, Aemond. You must marry before the King passes, to strengthen Aegon’s claim to the throne. I intend to write to Lord Baratheon to–”

“I do not want a Baratheon girl!” Aemond hisses, head snapping towards Otto, eye wide and nostrils flared in anger.

Otto sighs in frustration, shifting in his chair. “What you want is of little consequence. You will take your dragon, once I have dispatched a raven, and you will fly to Storm’s End.”

Aemond draws in a breath as the realisation of what he should have done two weeks ago dawns upon him. He gives a slight nod, his eye meeting the weary gaze of his grandsire. 

“Yes, I will take Vhagar. But I will fly North to Winterfell.”

“That is reckless.”

“I can win back the favour of the Starks. Without recklessness I would not be the rider of the world’s largest dragon.”

“An impulsive act that cost you dearly.”

“Yes, my impulsivity may have lost me my eye, but I shall not allow my own inaction to lose me the woman I love.”

Aemond rises from his seat, walking towards the door. In his mind the matter is closed.

“And what if you fail?” Otto calls after him.

He stops momentarily, bowing his head as he considers Otto’s words, then turns to look at him over his shoulder. “If I fail then I will accept whoever you choose for me to wed.”

The journey North the following morning is one of the longest that Aemond has ever taken on dragonback. Even wrapped up in riding leathers, he can feel the bite of the cold at his flesh as he leaves behind the temperate climate of the Crownlands, his body shivering as his gloved hands grip tightly to the reins of Vhagar’s saddle.

Usually Aemond leans into the ebb and flow of the weightlessness that he feels while in flight, but all sensations are dulled by the racing of his heart. No journey feels like it is long enough for him to prepare what he intends to say when he eventually faces Lorra. Will she be prepared to see him, or will she simply turn him away? The idea of the latter causes dread to gnaw at the pit of his stomach.

He glides in a slow circle above the fortress of Winterfell, scoping out where best to land his mount. There is no way he can land close to its walls due to Vhagar’s size. It is insult enough to the Starks to arrive uninvited, without the claws of his dragon causing their walls to crumble.

Satisfied that he knows the layout of the land, Aemond brings Vhagar to land on a grassy embankment on the southern facade of the castle, dismounting and making the rest of the journey on foot.

It is early evening as he approaches, and he is met at the gates by several members of Winterfell’s garrison, their man-at-arms demanding he state his business. Unsurprisingly, there are no Starks present to greet him, but his dragon has doubtless been spotted and alerted them to this arrival.

“I am Prince Aemond of House Targaryen. I request an audience with Lady Lorra Stark,” he states simply.

He is escorted to the Great Hall, disappointed at the absence of Lorra as he enters. Her father, Rickon, is seated alone, his gaze stern as he looks upon the Targaryen Prince. Rickon does not stand to greet him, the informality taking him aback as the garrison bustle out of the hall, leaving just the two of them.

“I hope you will forgive the lack of formal greeting,” Rickon says gruffly, “the raven carrying news of your arrival must have been waylaid.”

Aemond swallows thickly, clasping his hands behind his back. He had not expected a warm reception from House Stark, however, this appears to be outright hostility.

“My visit is unplanned, my Lord, and I apologise for the intrusion. I will speak plainly, I have travelled to Winterfell with the intention of resuming my betrothal to your daughter. I had hoped to speak with her.”

Rickon scoffs, his eyebrows raising slightly. “If I could, I would send you back the way you came. However, it is not my intention for the people of the North to fall foul of the Crown, so I am obliged to offer you the hospitality of our House. You will dine with us this evening and leave upon the morrow.”

Aemond’s heart sinks, fearing he has failed before being given the opportunity to redeem himself, and he has not even laid his eye upon Lorra yet, let alone been allowed to speak to her.

He is shown to his bedchamber, changing out of his riding clothes into more appropriate attire for dinner.

As he enters the dining hall, he freezes, feeling his throat run dry as he spots Lorra seated at the table. In their time apart he had forgotten just how beautiful she is and the sight of her is enough to steal away all the air from his lungs.

“Come, sit, eat,” her mother, Gilliane, beckons from her seat beside Lorra.

Cregan and Rickon flank one side of the table, while Lorra and Gilliane are sat at the other, leaving the only available spaces at either end of it, either next to her mother and father, or Lorra and her brother. Aemond opts for the latter of the seating arrangements, hoping it will give him an opportunity to speak to her.

“I hope the food is to your liking. We were unaware we were to have a Royal visitor, otherwise we would have prepared something befitting a Prince.” Gilliane tells him with a tight smile.

Once again, Aemond is reminded of his intrusion, feeling the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment. He forces himself to look at her, keeping his tone polite.

“It is a fine spread, my Lady, you have my thanks.”

He lowers his voice, inclining his head towards Lorra. “The food is of little importance to me, I wished only to see you.”

“And now you have,” she replies simply without looking at him.

Her response is like a dagger to Aemond’s chest, he recoils slightly, opening his mouth to speak, but thinks better of it. There are a thousand things he wishes to say to her, but not in the company of her family, and so the rest of the meal passes in slow, uncomfortable silence.

When they retire for the evening, Aemond seizes his opportunity to talk with Lorra alone as she walks back towards her quarters. 

“Wait,” he calls after her, striding ahead of her and standing in front of her to block her way. “Did you get my letter?”

Lorra sighs. The expression upon her face as she looks up at Aemond makes his heart ache. She looks tired and sad, and the guilt he feels at knowing he is the cause seems as though it may swallow him whole.

“I did. Pretty words, though they are empty and expressed far too late.”

Aemond’s stomach drops into free fall. His fingers twitch uselessly at his sides, eager to reach out and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, to comfort her. Though she is standing before him, it feels as though a chasm stretches between them, she has never felt more far away.

“Is it too late?” He asks quietly.

“You are leaving tomorrow.”

“Give me one week. A week is all I ask to win back your affection, to prove to you I am a man worth marrying.”

“I gave you six months!” She cries frustratedly. “I am not prepared to waste anymore of my time on a man who does not know how to love. I have no interest in a match that is purely political.”

“Nor do I, not anymore, and I will prove it to you. One week, please.”

Lorra bows her head, toying with her fingers for a moment as she thinks, before looking back up at him. “I shall give you three days.”

She steps around Aemond, walking away and leaving him alone in the castle corridor.

As hard as he tries, sleep will not take Aemond that night. It is not the chill of the Northern air that robs him of rest, as he had anticipated, the hot springs upon which Winterfell is built keep the castle surprisingly warm. He is exhausted from the long journey, and yet his mind will not quiet long enough to allow sleep to take him.

He has just three days to prove to Lorra that he is worthy of her. His station alone is not enough, a royal title is of obvious no concern to the Starks. Aemond has spent his entire life believing that duty alone is sufficient, that love in a marriage is a fanciful, unnecessary component. Lorra has challenged all of that – for her, it is a requirement – and it terrifies him, not the change in mindset itself, but how readily he is willing to accept it.

Aemond drifts off eventually, awakening to the metallic clash of blades outside his window. He rises slowly, groggy with fatigue and walks towards the sound, watching quietly as Lorra and Cregan spar together in the early morning light of the training yard below.

He smiles softly as he looks upon her, noting how quick she is. She is steady with her blade, yet light upon her feet. Though they had trained side by side many times at the Red Keep, he was always too preoccupied with the movement of his own sword and opponent to appreciate her skills fully. Immense guilt washes over him as he remembers how poorly he had treated her the first time she had asked to spar with him.

Now he has the opportunity to remedy that. Aemond dresses quickly, making his way out into the courtyard.

Cregan and Lorra come to a stop at his approach, eyeing him carefully as they lower their weapons.

Aemond gives a polite nod to the elder Stark, before turning his attention to Lorra. “My Lady, would you care to train?”

“I already am,” she says cooly, earning an amused smirk from her brother.

“With me,” he adds, straightening to disguise his discomfort.

“You wish to spar with me? I thought such things were beneath you.”

“I was misguided, allow me to correct the error of my ways.”

Lorra looks questioningly at Cregan, who gives an easy shrug. “Blades are over there,” he nods towards an assortment of weapons propped against the stone wall of the yard as he walks away.

Aemond snatches up a sword, walking back towards Lorra as she takes up a fighting stance. As he takes in the fire that blazes in her bright blue eyes he wonders if perhaps he has made a grievous error in judgement. Challenging the woman he has wronged to a fight would give her ample opportunity to exorcise her vexation, and he half expects her to simply run him through with her blade.

“I am not a child,” Lorra breathes heavily, the flat of her sword pushing back against Aemond’s as she blocks his attack. “You will not appease me with a disingenuous attempt at feigning interest in me.”

“A thousand mile journey is far from disingenuous,” he retorts, side stepping as she swipes at him. “You took the time to get to know me, and I have the genuine desire to do the same for you, though the time I have puts me at a disadvantage.”

Lorra scoffs, dodging as Aemond strikes forward, meeting the resistance of her blade once more.

“You fight well,” he tells her, stepping closer, his chest heaving with exertion. “Visenya Targaryen was said to be a fearsome warrior queen, I dare say even she would be impressed. A trait I would be proud for my wife to possess.”

She blinks rapidly, lowering her gaze and her sword as she steps back, light pink dusting the pale skin of her cheeks. “Flattery will not work upon me.”

Aemond finds boldness in Lorra’s sudden coyness, dropping his sword hand to his side, he closes the gap between them, crooking the finger of his free hand beneath her chin and tilting her face up to his. “Are you certain of that?”

He smirks when she says nothing, and pulls away to place his sword against the wall.

“Come with me,” he tells her, gently grabbing her arm and pulling her along with him towards the gates of Winterfell.

“Where are we going?” She asks with wide eyes as her steps hurry to keep up with his lengthy strides.

“To do something I should have done months ago,” he replies, never slowing his pace.

They pass through the gates and around to the south facade, icy wind nips at their skin and Aemond regrets his impulsive decision for a moment, wishing he had given them both the opportunity to don a coat before heading out, but he supposes in a moment it will not matter, not with the warmth of what he is to show her.

Vhagar is exactly where he had left her when he first landed, though she is now curled up in a sleeping position, the vast expanse of her having squashed the long grass around her completely flat.

Lorra slows, hesitating as the hulking frame of the dragon comes into view and Aemond looks back at her, his grasp slipping from her arm to her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Do not be afraid,” he reassures her, “when you are with me, Vhagar is no danger to you.”

Lorra shakes her head, though she does not pull her hand from his, a gesture that causes Aemond’s heart to soar.

“I am not afraid. I just do not understand the meaning of this.”

“I mean to introduce you, something I ought to have done in the first place, but I foolishly refused. Vhagar is the most important thing in the world to me…well, she was, now I find that someone else occupies that place in both my heart and mind.”

Lorra’s face softens, her big, blue eyes filled with uncertainty as she looks between Aemond and the sleeping dragon.

“Come,” Aemond beckons her forward as he resumes walking. “She is most docile when she is sleeping.”

The air turns humid from the heat that radiates from the great, slumbering beast as they approach her, and Aemond rubs a hand across the hardened heat of her scales, earning a gentle rumble from the dragon which gently quakes the ground upon which they stand.

“Does she not get cold? I cannot imagine the North is a suitable climate for such a creature,” Lorra says, staring up in wonder at Vhagar.

“She is fire itself,” Aemond explains softly, “she is not fond of the cold, but she is able to keep herself warm. Here–”

Aemond takes Lorra’s hand, feeling it tremble beneath his own as he presses it gently against the dragon’s scales, encouraging her to stroke them.

Lorra giggles, continuing to run her hand across them, even after he has pulled his away. “She is not as soft as I expected her to feel.”

“Hmm,” Aemond agrees, watching with a faint smile. “She is old and battle hardened.”

“What will you feed her while she is here?”

He grins, a faint chuckle escaping him at her question. Heat spreads rapidly through his chest at the care that Lorra shows for Vhagar, enquiring after her comfort and wellbeing.

“She is large enough to feed herself, too big even to house within the Dragon Pit of King’s Landing. I have never had to feed her, she fends for herself well enough. I daresay whatever sheep happened to be roaming here have met their end at her appetite.”

“My father gave me a direwolf pup when I was a child,” Lorra tells him, as she continues her absentminded stroking. “When he was old enough to fend for himself, I released him into the forest. It did not seem fair to keep such a creature cooped up in the confines of a castle. Direwolves are not like dragons, they cannot be controlled.”

“The idea that we control the dragons is an illusion. They obey because they choose to. My bond with Vhagar is the only reason she listens to me.”

Lorra turns, her eyes meeting his. “Is there anyone that you are bonded with strongly enough that you will listen to them?”

“No,” he whispers, leaning down so that his nose brushes against the tip of hers, “at least not until now.”

She blushes, turning her face away. “We should be getting back, but thank you for this, truly. I shall not forget it.”

Though Lorra had declined to kiss him, Aemond’s hope feels restored as he sits beside her at the supper table that evening, stirring his spoon through a steaming bowl of rabbit stew.

“We should go hunting tomorrow,” Lorra says to him with a bright smile.

“Making the Prince earn his keep?” Cregan asks with a chuckle.

“If luck is on our side, we may be able to serve Aemond’s favourite for supper, he is fond of roasted venison.”

Aemond sips his wine to hide the smile that tugs at his lips that she has remembered such a detail about him.

“Do you hunt?” Cregan asks Aemond, raising an eyebrow.

“I have never needed to,” he responds simply, doing his best to ignore the feeling of shame that washes over him as Lorra’s brother regards him with narrowed eyes.

“You will need more than luck if you hope to fell a deer between the two of then,” Cregan scoffs, returning his attention to his stew.

“We do not have to go, if you do not wish to,” Lorra tells him apologetically.

“No, I want to,” Aemond insists. “Even if we are fruitless in our endeavours, the time spent with you will not be wasted.”

She grins at him. A dazzling, brilliant expression that lights up her entire face, and makes Aemond’s heart squeeze in his chest as he realises just how much he has missed the sight of it.

Aemond walks Lorra back to her chambers later that evening, stopping as they reach the door. 

“Well, I suppose we both ought to get some rest. We have an early start tomorrow, if we are to go hunting,” she tells him.

“It is still early,” he reminds her, “and I have only three days. It would be foolish to cut the first of them short.”

She raises her brows in surprise at this. “What are you suggesting?”

“I thought perhaps you would permit me to come inside so that we can talk for a while? I promise not to overstay my welcome.”

Lorra chews her lip in uncertainty as she considers his offer, before nodding. “Very well.”

Aemond looks around as he walks through Lorra’s chambers, he has never been somewhere that is so personal or intimate to her, and is eager to learn what he can of her from the space. The rooms are decorated with soft furnishings in greys and pale blues, the colours of her house, with ornately carved wolves’ heads and figures upon the shelves that house her books and personal effects. It is clear she is proud of her Stark heritage, just as he is of his Targaryen ancestry.

He casts his eye over her bookshelves, until his attention is drawn to the parchment upon her writing desk. He recognises it as the letter he had sent to her, picking it up as he reads the familiar words he’d written weeks before.

“You kept it…” he utters softly.

“I did,” Lorra confesses, seating herself on the edge of the bed.

Aemond allows the note to flutter back down upon the desk, turning to face her. “Can I ask, what had you planned to do?”

She sighs, fingertips plucking anxiously at the cotton of the bedspread. “Truthfully, I do not know. I wrote back to you countless times, but tore all of my letters up before I sent them. They were filled with hateful, angry words, which I know I would have regretted.”

Aemond nods, though it pains him to know she could ever think such things of him. “And how do you feel about me now?”

“You have made a good effort to redeem yourself, though I would be lying if your rejection of me back in King’s Landing does not still hurt. I am ashamed to admit that I wept most of the journey back to Winterfell. I had not expected you to come all this way just for me, but I am glad you did.”

Cautiously, Aemond steps towards her and, seeing no sign of protestation from Lorra, sits himself beside her on the bed. “It pains me to know you believe your feelings are unrequited. I should never have let you go.”

“Then why did you?”

Aemond presses his lips into a tight line, a wave of unease washing over him. His first instinct is to pull away, to tell her he does not wish to speak of it, yet he knows if he is to have any hope of winning her back he needs to speak openly.

“When I was a child, I watched my father break my mother’s heart more times than I care to count. The irony of it is that theirs was not a marriage borne of love, yet he managed to hurt her just the same. I swore to myself that I would never allow myself to be placed in such a situation, that when the time came I would do my duty, and matters of the heart would not interfere. Then you came along, and you changed my perception of everything that I believed to be true.”

“That is not a bad thing,” Lorra says softly.

“No it is not. But I have lived my life keeping a comfortable distance from others, I always have. I was content in my loneliness, or at least I thought I was. It is disarming to have someone enter your life and feel that you are willing to risk the comfort found in solitude just to keep them at your side. I have never longed for anyone, and yet when you are not near me I find myself looking for you. I did not know what to do with that.”

“And do you now?”

“I am willing to learn.”

Softly, Lorra cups Aemond’s face in her hands. His eye flutters closed, leaning into the warmth of her palms.

“Will you let me in fully?” She whispers. “Let me see all of you?”

He feels her fingertips creep up his left cheek, gently tapping at the leather of his eyepatch, and lurches backwards, heart pounding.

“It would frighten you.”

“I do not scare easily,” she reassures him, placing her hands back upon his face. This time he does not pull away, though he sits rigid as he allows her to lift the patch away from his head, keeping his seeing eye downcast as he holds his breath, fearing her reaction.

Her touch is featherlight as she traces the scar that runs the length of his face, and when he dares to look back up there is warmth in her gaze, where he had anticipated disgust.

“You are beautiful,” she murmurs.

Shock paralyses him momentarily as she leans in, pressing her lips to his, but he is quick to recover. His fingers thread themselves into the silken ebony of her hair as he kisses her fiercely. The soft plushness of her lips feel every bit as divine as they had the first time, his cock stirring in his breeches as their mouths part enough for his tongue to brush against hers.

Lorra presses her forehead to his when they finally break for air, both breathing heavily.

“We really ought to sleep,” she tells him quietly, “tomorrow is an early start.”

“Oh…yes, of course,” he utters, a hint of disappointment in his voice as he rises, preparing to return to his own room.

She grips his arm, stopping him. “No, stay, please.”

Aemond’s pulse races at the suggestion, yet he nods all the same. Stripping down to their undergarments, they lay snuggled together beneath the blankets. It is an odd sensation to hold someone; she lays with her head upon his chest and his arms wrapped around her. Aemond has never done this with anyone before, but he finds that he enjoys the sensation of her flesh against his, her warmth is comforting. Pressing his nose into her hair, his nostrils fill with the familiar scent of rosemary and lavender. Sleep comes much easier to him that night.

As she had promised, Lorra ensures they awaken early the next morning to ready themselves for a day in the forest. They each take a crossbow and a quiver of arrows, though Aemond is uncertain of how much use he will be with his. His disfigurement leaves him at a disadvantage when it comes to the use of ranged weapons.

“I am assuming you can ride a horse?” She asks, as she leads Aemond to the castle’s stables.

“I am not as proficient as I am on dragonback,” he admits, “but yes, I can ride.”

“I have had the stable hand saddle Cregan’s steed for you,” she tells him, stroking a gloved hand over the velvety snout of a large, black horse. “He is more even tempered than any of our other geldings and less likely to throw you off.”

She winks at Aemond as she walks towards her own mount, and he watches with a smirk as she climbs into the saddle of a strikingly white mare.

“Her name is Nymeria,” she tells him proudly. “Cregan’s is named Rhoyne.”

The ride through the forest is peaceful, their horses trotting at a leisurely pace, side by side, beneath a blanket of deep green fir trees so thick that Aemond almost cannot see the sky above them.

“Your Baratheon girl must not be pleased that you are here,” Lorra says eventually, glancing over at Aemond with a demure smile.

“I have no Baratheon girl,” Aemond tells her.

“Oh?”

Aemond tightens his hold on the reins of his horse, his posture stiffening slightly. “It is…regrettable, what you overheard between my grandsire and I. The truth of the matter is that he had intended to send me to Storm’s End to petition Lord Baratheon for the hand of one of his daughters in marriage. I refused.”

Lorra laughs softly. “He cannot have taken that well.”

“He was not pleased, no. I came here instead, on the promise that I would secure an alliance with House Stark.”

She says nothing, averting her gaze towards the trees, and they continue to ride in silence. Aemond glances at her every so often, hoping to catch her eye, but to his disappointment she is always on the lookout for game, or is at least pretending to be. The quiet hangs heavy between them, the only sounds are the gentle hoofbeats of their mounts and the distant chirping of birds.

“I know it is not ideal,” he tells her, no longer able to bear her silence, “to have this obligation hanging over us, but it is my duty. But I need you to know, I am not choosing you out of duty. To have you in my arms as I did last night was no easy thing for me, and it is not something I take lightly.”

“I know,” she says softly.

“Do you think that joining our Houses is even possible? Your father and brother do not seem fond of me.”

“Lords of the North are not quite so tyrannical over their daughters as they are in the South. My father and brother are wary of you because they are aware you have hurt me. But my father will respect my decision and pose no opposition to an alliance with your House, if I choose to marry you.”

“So, you accept?”

Lorra laughs, rolling her eyes. “I said if.”

They lapse back into a more comfortable silence, though there are no deer to be found. Aemond can feel his teeth begin to chatter, despite how warmly he is dressed, he has not acclimated to the chill of the air of the North. It nips at his skin, feeling as though it seeps into the very bones of him.

“I think Cregan had the right of it,” Lorra sighs, “we are to have no luck today. I expect our chatter has likely frightened off any deer we might have hoped to see.”

“Do you wish to turn back?” Aemond asks hopefully.

“You are cold. Fortunately, we are close to one of my favourite places to warm up.”

Aemond’s curiosity is piqued, and despite the cold that stiffens his joints, he continues to ride alongside her, until the trees clear, revealing an opening in the side of the rock face.

Lorra dismounts from Nymeria, securing her reins to a nearby fir tree, and Aemond does the same for Rhoyne.

“In here,” Lorra gestures towards the rock face.

Aemond’s brow furrows, but he follows her in regardless, immediately enveloped in warmth and darkness alike, the furs and leathers he is wrapped up in suddenly feeling much too hot. He picks his steps carefully, walking slowly behind her until light from an opening above them beams daylight down upon a steaming pool of vibrant blue water, nestled within a basin among the craggy stone.

“Hot springs,” Lorra tells him happily, unfastening her cloak and allowing it to drop to the ground. “It is the best defense against the cold while out on a ride.”

She begins to undress and Aemond freezes, his first instinct being to look away, but he finds that as more of her flesh is revealed to him he cannot keep his eye from her. Desire flickers hotly in his lower belly as he looks upon the swell of her breasts, the inwards dip of her waist, and the curve of her hips as she peels her clothes away from her body, dropping them to the floor, before stepping into the water.

He is taken aback by just how brazen she is, unashamed as she turns, once submerged up to her thighs, and looks at him with a grin.

“Are you going to join me, or just stand there gawping?”

Aemond’s eye widens, he opens his mouth to speak, but finds no words will come to him.

Lorra giggles. “Shall I turn away?”

He clears his throat, shaking his head. “N–no…”

His breaths come shakily as he disrobes, wishing to get it over with as quickly as possible. Once fully bare, he steps into the water, his lack of modesty almost forgotten with the sigh of relief that leaves him as the heat of the water soothes the ache of the cold in his joints.

“You forgot this,” Lorra tells him, stepping towards him and reaching for his eyepatch.

“Wait.” He grabs her wrist, stopping her. “I need to know…if you have not decided if you wish to marry me, then why are you doing this? Sleeping in the same bed with me, bathing together. If this is all a game to you, then I can go no further.”

Lorra lowers her gaze, pursing her lips. “I do want to marry you, my feelings have not changed. But I cannot accept that you have changed on words alone. I need to see that you desire me as a husband desires their wife, I need to know it is real.”

Aemond pulls away his eyepatch, discarding it to the side with the rest of his clothing, and pulls her to him by her waist. He inhales sharply as he feels the softness of her dampened skin meet his. “Is this real enough for you?”

The ends of his long, silvery hair are beginning to form loose waves due to the humidity, and her fingers reach up to stroke through them.

“Do you think you could grow to love me?” She whispers.

Aemond’s thumbs trace lazy circles against her sides as he gazes down at her, carefully considering his words. “I am not certain I know what love is. I think of you often, I crave your presence when you are not there. I feel a sensation akin to physical pain when you are sad, and your happiness serves to elevate my own. Perhaps that is love? And if it is, then I believe that I already do.”

Lorra smiles, her blue eyes shining as she looks up at him. Her hands press gently against Aemond’s chest, pushing him back to sit on a ledge, submerged in the hot spring, where the water rises to just above his navel. She sits astride him, the brush of her thighs and womanhood against him making him painfully hard. His breath hitches, as he clings to her waist like a lifeline.

Her fingers caress his jaw gently, and she kisses him softly, their lips meeting slowly and tenderly in an unhurried gesture of affection.

“I would marry you tomorrow, if I could,” he utters against her lips, “wed you beneath the heart tree in your godswood, in the tradition of the Old Gods.”

“Really?” She sighs as Aemond presses his lips to her throat, his hands sliding from her waist to travel up her torso and palm roughly at her breasts.

“If you wish it, once we are married we can return to Winterfell and do just that.”

“Mmm…I would like that.” She tilts her head back as Aemond lowers his mouth to her chest, capturing a hardened peak between his lips and suckling gently.

Aemond has never desired anyone like this before, though he has never cared for anyone in the way that he cares for Lorra. He craves her touch, the need for her making him feel as though he teeters on the very edge of madness.

He removes his mouth from her breast, an appreciative groan rumbling in his chest as she begins to roll her hips against his, and his lips capture hers once more, gripping her hips to urge on her movements against him.

If he had known she would feel this exquisite, he would have barred the doors of the Red Keep and forbade her from ever stepping foot outside of it.

He pulls away, breathless as he stares up at her. “I want to marry you in the tradition of Old Valyria too. Once Aegon is King, and our ancestral seat is returned to us, we will travel to Dragonstone and do just that.”

“What does that involve?” She asks huskily.

“We shall wear the traditional robes of Old Valyria, red and white, and you will have a beautiful headdress.”

He pauses, eye fixated upon her as she raises up slightly on her knees, causing him to hiss through his teeth as she grasps the length of him, positioning him at her entrance. His stones tighten, mind going utterly blank, rendering him speechless, as the tight heat of her sinks down upon him, his fingertips push into the flesh of her hips hard enough to bruise.

She stills once seated fully upon him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Keep going,” she urges, “tell me more.”

“We will use dragon glass–ah, fuck!” He screws his eye shut, hips bucking up to meet hers as she moves against him.

“Use dragon glass to what?” She asks teasingly, her pace never faltering.

Aemond swallows thickly, the pressure building at the base of his spine almost too much to bear. “To…to slice against our palms...the blood that spills is collected in a cup which we will drink from.”

Lorra whimpers softly in pleasure, the rise and fall of her hips becoming more urgent, causing the water to lap in gentle ripples against their bodies. Aemond snarls at the increase in pace, pressing the flat of his palm tightly against her lower back, as he buries his face in the crook of her neck.

“Is that all?”

“No…” Aemond’s voice is strained, struggling to get the words out against the haze of pleasure that overwhelms him. “We will use the same dragon glass to cut our lips, the resulting kiss in addition to the combined blood we have consumed serving to bind us together forever.”

“If that is your wish…”

“Yes…bind yourself to me…”

Lorra gasps, her arms tightening around him as he feels her insides spasm around him in quick, successive pulses, her body trembling against his. He continues to thrust up into her, until the pressure within him gives way, causing his cock to pulsate as he holds her to him, spilling inside of her.

They remain as one, wrapped around each other in the steam of the hot spring as they each struggle for breath, slowly recovering.

Aemond strokes Lorra’s hair away from her face, running his fingers through it as he takes in her blissful, relaxed expression. In this very moment, he has never been more certain that this is love, and to experience what he has just felt makes him feel foolish for having pushed it away for so long. There is no doubt in his mind that there is no one else in the world for him, only her.

“So, will you?” He asks gently, continuing to stroke her hair. “Bind yourself to me?”

She gazes at him softly, a lazy smile upon her lips. “You have barely used two of your three days yet. I am sure there is lots more convincing you could do until they are up.”

Aemond smirks, tugging her against him in a tight embrace. That is an arrangement that he is more than happy to satisfy.

[buckys-little-belle]

Hello i dont know if your taking request right now but if you are then i have a request for bucky if you do request on him maybe like headcanons of what you think he would do to keep you entertained at the stark tower just a thought no pressure to get this done sending love and remember to be safe. Thank you for your time.

xoxo , Kae Kae <3

Stark Tower Blues

Bucky Barnes x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Talks of eating, talks of naps, fluff, protective, sweet, and thoughtful Bucky

Notes - I made this into headcannons because that made more sense to me, but if anyone wants a fic based on one specific headcannon let me know? Also, this is so short, I apologize!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽.

☆ When Bucky is on a mission and you're on your own (with supervision by another team member who stayed behind) he's got full days planed. Your meals are in the fridge premade, you have activities in bins that are scattered around his living quarters and other common areas. He keeps you busy with drawing, colouring, trips to the outside playground, movie nights, and new toys, so busy you don't have time to really miss him.

☆ When he is there he's got you stuck to his hip, your colouring in a chair in his office, playing with toys by his side when he's in meetings, and he begrudgingly bought you an Ipad so you can watch movies with headphones when you get tired of playing by his side.

☆ He always brings a blanket and a stuffed animal in his backpack whenever the two of you leave the tower on official business. He's put you down for a nap in the back of a car, on a random office couch, at Sam's house, really anywhere, he's always ready for a post meltdown nap.

☆ Bucky keeps your favorite snacks on every floor of the tower, Tony doesn't know it, but Bucky has hidden snacks quite literally everywhere. It helps for when you're hungry and he doesn't have time to rush up four or five floors to get you something to eat.

☆ He was one of the loudest voices when it came to getting an outdoor playground set up in/at the tower. It's in a room with a bunch of windows and fake grass with air circulated from outside no matter the season, so it's both an indoor and outdoor playground. He wanted you to have a place to run around and something to jump and climb on that was still protected and secure.

☆ He began movie nights with the whole team. Mr antisocial himself gets everyone together once every two weeks to watch whatever movie your heart desires. He takes you out to buy snacks and pick out a DVD at the local movie rental store and he lets you set up the living room seating, blankets, and pillows in whatever way you want.

[gravehags]

the burn between our hearts

Pairing: Ghouls/Ghoulettes x f!Reader

Rating: Mature

Tags: ghouls doing ghoul shit, depression, tender emotions, surprise papa

Words: 2,524

Summary: You have never felt so lost, so empty before, and you are unsure if what's wrong with you can ever be fixed.

a/n: THIS IS IT the final installment of the ghoul bicycle series. I have had so much fun writing this and who knows, might be tempted to write a little more if inspiration strikes me. See end of post for another note.

~~~

33 days.

It’s been 33 days since you’ve seen or heard from any of the ghouls.

You spent the first two and a half weeks of that in your room, sobbing wildly in bed while Sister Marguerite sat next to you rubbing your back and murmuring words of comfort to you. Truth be told, the steady presence of the middle-aged sister provided a warmth that you desperately needed. She never spoke ill of the ghouls and what they had done to you, instead telling you to be patient. That the Unholy Father always provides. That there’s always more to a bad situation than it seems. All difficult words for you to believe when your heart had been shattered the day after you had left Aurora’s room. Your mind was torn - on one hand you had come to expect this: being cast aside once they were done using you. On the other hand…you really thought you had something special with them. From your first time with Swiss to your last time with Aurora and every interaction with every ghoul in between, you felt like you were finally home. That you had finally found your place in the Ministry, by their sides.

Or not.

After most of your tears dry and your depression lets up to the point where you can leave your bed, you become angry. Fucking infuriated. Even before they were your lovers, they were your friends. And they just ditch you and act like you don’t even fucking exist anymore? Fuck that. One evening, you get so mad you stride down to the ghoul den and begin banging on their bedroom doors, cussing and cursing their names. How dare they treat you like you’re disposable? But that’s been the story of your whole life, you suppose. Everyone gets tired of you eventually. With one last slam of your fist against the wall, hard enough to bruise and shake Cumulus’ door, your tears begin to slip out once more.

“FUCK YOU!” you shout, unsuccessfully holding back a sob. The silence in the corridor is deafening so you turn on your heel and leave without a glance backwards. You don’t see the door at the end of the hall cracking open and eyes watching you go.

You return to your chores in the abbey, ignoring the sneers and dirty glances your fellow siblings give you. You’re well aware you’ve been a nuisance to everyone, being holed up in your room and shirking your duties, and you're wracked with guilt. Sister Marguerite assures you sweetly that it’s okay, everyone goes through rough spells and your absence hasn’t caused any undue burden on the rest of the siblings but you have a hard time believing her. You attend your duties but without any real life in your eyes or spring in your step. When you cry, silently, every once in a while, your sniffles draw rolled eyes and scoffs. The siblings don’t say a word to you, until one day, the dam breaks. You’re in the library and let out a small, embarrassing sob as you shelve a book on love magic when a loud slam echoes throughout the library.

“You are so fucking ridiculous, do you know that?”

You don’t realize she’s talking to you until you turn slightly and see her searing gaze. It’s Sister Tamsin. You don’t know her - not really - but she’s well-liked by a lot of people in the abbey. She’s never spoken to you before this and you frantically wipe your tears as she walks closer to you. A small crowd has been attracted to the two of you now, multiple pairs of eyes shifting between you both.

“Acting this way because of the fucking ghouls. Like you’re supposed to be special or some bullshit. Honey, the ghouls fuck everyone. They can’t help themselves. All of us have had a ghoul proposition us at some point, you’re just the only one stupid enough to fall for it. They’re nothing but fucking animals–”

“They are not animals,” you say loudly in a shaky voice but Tamsin isn’t done berating you.

“--oh look at that! She finally uses her mouth to speak instead of just opening it for ghoul cock and cunt. Go on, sweetheart. Tell us all how those beasts love you so much. Their little whore. Their–”

The slap echoes throughout the large room, but both your hands remain clenched into fists by your sides. Looming over Tamsin’s doubled-over form is Sister Marguerite, looking like fury personified in her neat habit.

“You little cunt,” Marguerite spits, causing your eyebrows to raise. You’ve never heard her swear before. “You know just as well as everyone else in this room - in this whole abbey - how sacred the ghouls are. Summoned by our own Papa from the realm of the Unholy Father to help him spread the word of our ministry. And you dare defile their name - and the name of those they have chosen - for petty cruelty? You are nothing, Tamsin. A jealous little gnat. And rest assured, Papa will be hearing about this.”

No one in the room is stunned quite as much as you as Marguerite abandons the red-faced, humiliated Tamsin in order to come to your side and escort you out of the room with her arm firmly planted across your lower back. When you finally step out of the library, she shuts the door firmly behind her and grabs your biceps, pulling you into a hug.

“Enough is enough,” she murmurs, rubbing your back. “I’m relieving you of your duties for the day. Take care, hon. Go back to your room. I’ll be having a word with our Papa.”

With one last squeeze she hustles down the hall, skirts flying and you’re left shell-shocked in the empty corridor. You rub at your eyes with the heels of your hands before doing as she requested.

Three days pass.

Three days and not a single soul dares look at you sideways let alone speak to you. You notice, with a twisted sense of satisfaction, that Tamsin is nowhere to be found. Not in the library, not in the gardens - you haven’t seen her at mass or in the dining hall. When you quietly ask Marguerite about her she just gives you a beatific smile and says, “she’s no longer a problem for you.” Something within you warns you not to inquire further so instead you go back to your normal life. After you finish a shift in the kitchens for the evening, you step out into the cloisters and head for a small courtyard you enjoy. You plop down onto a stone bench with a heaving sigh, trying to ignore the constant ache in your heart as you breathe in the evening air.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your head whips to the side and when you see a figure dressed in a red tracksuit and the earnest face of Papa Emeritus IV you jump up.

“Papa!” you gasp, curtsying before him. “I–no! Please, sit.”

He lowers himself next to you, putting his gloved hands on his thighs and taking a deep breath.

“Nice out, eh?” he asks quietly. You’ve never seen Papa like this - out of the majority of his papal paints and elaborate robes - and you certainly have never spoken to him in conversation like this.

“Beautiful,” you say, folding your hands in your lap. His eyes lower to watch you rub your fingers anxiously and worry at your cuticles. Gently, he reaches over and places a hand over yours.

“I know you’ve been hurting, sorella,” he murmurs, thumb grazing over your knuckles.

“You…you do?” All of a sudden you’re filled with dread at the thought of your poor mental state and shirked duties being reported all the way to Papa. You open your mouth to explain yourself, to apologize profusely but he speaks first.

“My ghouls,” he begins, “are very peculiar creatures. They don’t take well to most humans.”

“Oh?”

“Sì, sì…they are very protective of each other and of me. And…they don’t take human lovers.”

“They…don’t?”

“Not at all, sorella. Which makes you a very peculiar creature yourself. Something that my ghouls noticed straightaway. Something that they have spoken to me a great length about.”

Your stomach does a backflip and he looks at you with his mismatched eyes.

“Sorella, they wanted me to tell you…it is time. Go to them. Go to the last door at the end of the hallway this evening. I apologize for not telling you more - telling you sooner - but they had much to accomplish and wanted this to be a surprise.”

Your heart feels as if it’s going to burst through your ribcage and tears form in your eyes as you regard him.

“Papa…” you say quietly, your voice cracking, “thank you. Ave Sathanas. Thank you, Papa.”

He smiles at you warmly, and reaches up to briefly cup your cheek before jerking his head towards the corridor behind the two of you.

“Go on, cara. They are waiting.”

Before you can doubt yourself, you plant a brief kiss on Papa’s cheek and scurry off. As you make your way on the familiar path to the ghoul den, your hands shake by your sides. What did Papa know? What did Marguerite know, always reminding you to have faith and patience and guiding you with a gentle hand? When you enter the corridor you force yourself to take a series of deep breaths. Swallowing hard, and guided as if by an invisible hand, your feet take you down the wide corridor, all the way to the door at the end. Your pulse thunders in your ears and after a beat, you raise your fist and knock twice before placing your hand on the knob and turning slowly.

What meets your gaze after the door creaks open instantly brings tears to your eyes.

They’re there - all ten of them - standing in various spots in the large room staring at you. When you choke out a pathetic sob, Swiss is by your side in an instant.

“Hey, babygirl,” he says quietly, hand rubbing between your shoulder blades. “Do you like it?”

When you look up at him quizzically, he gestures to the room. You hadn’t even noticed the setting for all the ghouls you adored so dearly. A bed - a ridiculously enormous bed - is pushed against the far wall. Surrounding the large piece of furniture is a collection of thick cushions and pillows of varying sizes, blankets draped here and there. A dresser stands by the opposite wall and a doorway leads to a darkened room you assumed to be the bathroom. Eyebrows drawn in confusion, you look around at them.

“I…I don’t get it.”

“It’s yours,” Cirrus says, stepping forward and taking Swiss’ place at your side. “It’s what we’ve been doing all this time. We can’t bring a mate into the den and not make them a nest.”

She says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but your jaw falls slack and you hear Aether let out a soft laugh.

“Mate?” your voice is comically high pitched as your eyes dart from Mountain to Sunshine to Aurora, perched on the end of the bed.

“If you’ll have us,” Cumulus supplies quickly, “we’re not going to assume but…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You can’t suppress the hurt in your voice and all at once they jump up and crowd around you.

“Love, like Cirrus said, we couldn’t tell you until we made a proper place for you,” Rain says softly, soothingly, “that’s how it’s supposed to be. The pack has to provide for you.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t say anything, though,” Phantom supplies, wringing his hands, “it…it wasn’t right to make you hurt like that. I told the others, but–”

“--But it was better than making you feel like you’ve been strung along. We had to make our intentions perfectly clear by doing this,” Mountain says calmly, gesturing around the room.

“I thought…I thought you didn’t want me anymore. That you didn’t care about me. That you never cared about me. I–” your words break off in a loud sob that has you doubling over on yourself and the ghouls looking anxiously around the room at one another.

“Honey, I’m sorry. We’re so sorry,” Cumulus says as she steps forward to embrace you, “human emotions can be…difficult for us to understand. We’ve never done this before, you know that? We’ve been telling you for so long that you���re special, that you’re perfect. If we didn’t want you we never, ever would have made this for you. You’re the one. You’re the only one for us.”

When you pull back from Cumulus’ arms, uselessly wiping your tears from her shoulder, she cups your face in her palms.

“We adore you. All of us.” The others nod emphatically, all reaching out to touch you in some way. It doesn’t feel real to you, but you drink it in all the same. Gently, you let go of your anger, of your doubt, and allow yourself to be filled with the perfect, aching love that surrounds you in this room.

“Thank you,” you whisper, squeezing Swiss’ hand in your left and Aurora’s in your right. “This is…wow. All for me, huh?”

“All for you,” Sunshine confirms, brushing your hair away from your face. “Does that mean you accept our offer?”

You let them squirm, just a little bit by remaining silent for a few seconds. When the “yes” leaves your lips, the room erupts triumphantly and suddenly your face is being smothered in kisses. When Swiss picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed, you can’t help but laugh, thinking of your first time. The ensuing days of celebration are filled with as much love as lust, your naked form barely allowed to ever leave the bed and always surrounded by the sounds of pleasure. You’re thoroughly exhausted by the end of the third day, abbey duties completely forgotten and body limp in the soft sheets. Gently, so as not to wake your pack, you raise yourself onto your elbows and look around the room. On your right on the bed is Dewdrop, snoring softly, while Cumulus curls up behind you. Phantom has found a spot at the bottom of the bed and Swiss and Aurora are intertwined on a cushion across the room. Cirrus, Sunshine, and Rain sleep soundly in a pile next to them while Aether lies curled into Mountain. You smile as you regard the forms of your lovers - all ten of them, you want to laugh - and lower yourself back down into the pillow. Cumulus stirs and murmurs something into your hair, and you reach a soothing hand back behind you to scratch gently at her scalp. Dew’s eyes open briefly, glowing in the dim light of the room and he gives you a sleepy smile. Leaning over, you place a soft kiss on his forehead and run your thumb along his cheekbone.

And for once in your life, here at the abbey or otherwise, you are at peace, you are held, and you are loved.

~~~

a/n: if you're wondering what happened to sister tamsin well. ghouls get hungry, don't they?

[severalforraelee]

The Girls Part 14: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Photo credit to Team Scuderia Ferrari

Word count: 4,410

Written by raelee / Posted Oct 10

Masterlist

Formula 1 Masterlist

The Girls Masterlist

“I heard you were in Monaco and didn’t come see me,” Lando accuses as soon as I answer his FaceTime call.

“You were already in Mexico,” I answer defensively.

“Yeah, but asking me would’ve still been nice.”

“Why would I ask if I already knew that you weren’t there?” I question.

He opens his mouth to respond but stops, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. I watch his eyes flicker on the screen, and as I’m about to ask him about the sudden movement, he answers my unasked question.

“Where are you right now?”

“Oh, uh,” I laugh nervously, causing Lando to squint at me. “I’m actually in my new flat.”

“Your new flat?” Lando raises his eyebrows at me.

“Yeah, Charles and I actually moved in together.” I wince, waiting for the earful that I’m about to receive.

If Lando doesn’t like Charles even staying at my flat, he’s going to hate that we live together now. Even if I told him that Charles is gone half of the year and we stay in different bedrooms he still wouldn’t be happy about it.

Lando opens his mouth, about to speak again, when his doorbell suddenly rings. I thank whatever God is listening in on our conversation for that. 

“Hold on,” he tells me like I have another option, heading towards his door so that I’m left staring at his ceiling. I hear muffled voices before he returns.

“Who was that?” I ask, hoping that the question will distract him from our previous topic.

“The delivery man,” he answers.

“Oh, what’d you get?”

“It’s not for me.”

I give him a questioning look at the response.

“They’re birthday presents for Ada and Lucy.”

Ada and Lucy's second birthday is coming up. They’re so excited to have a day that’s just dedicated to celebrating them. They’re especially looking forward to being able to eat cake and junk food all day, and open presents.

Unfortunately, it also falls on the day of the grand prix in Brazil. So Lando and Charles, two of their favorite people, won’t be able to celebrate their birthday with them on their actual birthday.

It’s going to be extremely difficult to explain to the girls why we’re celebrating, but why we’re not celebrating with the ones that they love.

“You didn’t have to buy them anything, Lando,” I insist.

“They’re my nieces, they’re going to get spoiled.”

“Well, thank you. We appreciate it. Were you going to come to London soon to celebrate with us?” I question.

It’s at a weird point in the season right now. There’s only a few races left until the season ends and winter break starts, so the atmosphere is weird. There’s a lot of testing and media duties for the drivers to do, so they’re at one of their busiest points, but everyone is ready for the season to just be done so they can get a little break.

“Well I was actually thinking that I could give them the presents in Brazil.”

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. “Like… you give them to Charles and Charles gives them to Ada and Lucy?”

“No, like you, Ada, and Lucy come to Brazil to watch the grand prix and McClaren will throw a birthday party for them, and I can give them their gifts then,” he suggests.

“Oh,” I’m taken by surprise. It’s honestly something that I hadn’t considered. “Lando, the grand prix is in like two weeks, that’s very short notice.”

“Yeah, but you already said that you don’t have classes on Fridays. And I think you said you work every other Friday and if I did my math correctly, you would have off that Friday,” he explains.

“I have a class on Monday in the afternoon, so if we flew back Sunday night or Monday morning I would still be able to make it…” I shake my head.

I can’t believe I’m considering this.

Going to a grand prix would bring the opposite of what I want for the girls. It would draw attention to them, especially if McClaren hosts a birthday party for them. After all of the drama on social media and people spotting us as a family of four out in public and posting about it, it makes me worried to go to Lando and Charles’ home away from home.

But… the girls have been showing more and more interest while watching the races lately. And I would love for them to be at a race to see their father and their uncle in their element. Plus meeting the people that Charles and Lando surround themselves with the majority of the weekend would be nice.

“I’ll have to think about it, Lando,” I sigh. “It just might be too hard and too soon after going to Monaco.”

“I get it, you don’t want to see your brother,” he jokes.

I roll my eyes. “Oh no, you caught me.”

“Let me know what you decide, alright? I can fly back and help you fly out with the girls, and I can pay for your flights and hotels and everything,” he offers.

I take a deep breath, gearing up to tell him that he doesn’t need to worry about that and I could figure it out myself. Then, I stop. “Okay, Lando.”

~

“You know what would be great?” Charles asks.

“What?” My eyes shift from the textbook in front of me to my laptop screen that has the problem pulled up, working through it in my head while also trying to carry a conversation with Charles.

“If you came to the Brazil grand prix with Ada and Lucy so that we could celebrate their birthday as a family.”

My head snaps towards where he’s set up on a FaceTime call on my phone leaned up against my water bottle.

“What?” I repeat my earlier question, although this time with surprise. My heart flutters when I catch that he referred to the four of us as a family. I know that I do it, but it’s nice to know that he does it too.

“Yeah, you know. We could celebrate their second birthday on their actual birthday, they could have a little party at Ferrari,” he suggests. “It’d be fun.”

“Have-”I pause at the question that I’m about to ask, already not believing the words that are about to leave my mouth, but Charles urges me on. “Have you been talking to my brother at all?”

“What? Why would you ask that?”

He’s a terrible actor.

“Because he said the exact same thing,” I deadpan.

“Great minds think alike.”

I sigh. “I’ll tell you the same thing that I told him. I’ll think about it.”

“If you’re worried about traveling with Ada and Lucy, I can fly back and fly out to Brazil with you three,” he offers.

“God, you really did talk to Lando,” I murmur. “You know what? Fine. If you and Lando can come out and help me fly out to Brazil with two toddlers and all of our luggage, we can spend their birthday at the grand prix in Brazil. I’m sure they would love that.”

“You’re not going to regret it, mon amour,” he grins enthusiastically. “I’m going to call Lando now to figure out all of the details.”

“Okay, have-”The phone call ends before I can finish my sentence. “Fun.”

I roll my eyes at the clear excitement on Charles’ face, but can’t hide the smile that’s growing on my lips.

~

“Lando, can you grab a bag, please?”

It’s like deja vu, except this time Lando is the one holding Ada and Lucy’s hands while I walk alongside Charles who struggles with the bags once again.

“No, I’m escorting Ada and Lucy right now,” Lando denies. Charles gives him a look of disbelief. “Uncle privileges.”

“Charles, just let me grab-””Not you, mon amour,” he declines, heaving a bag higher onto his shoulder.

I roll my eyes at his stubbornness but don’t persist any further.

I’m just surprised that I’m in the airport for the second time this month, jetting off on yet another international trip. I’m shocked that I’m doing this at this point in my life, nonetheless with two toddlers by my side.

Of course I have help from Lando and Charles (although, is Lando really help?) but after trying so hard to keep my daughters out of the public eye, taking them to a place where people from all walks of life attend is crazy to me. I can’t help but feel weirdly proud of myself for how far I’ve come.

“Are you okay?” Lando’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I return his gaze. “You just kind of zoned out there.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I smile at him and he smiles back.

And they’re genuine smiles. I really am fine.

~

Charles gets us in on Friday without having to deal with any of the media. I’m secretly relieved- as much as I’ve tried to reassure him that I don’t mind the media and fans, we’ll just have to hide the girls’ faces as best as we can, he’s taking all precautions to protect their privacy as best as we can.

“What are my nieces wearing?” A voice snaps me out of my quiet bickering with a whining Ada.

“Shirts and jeans,” I answer, picking her up and into my arms.

“Ferrari shirts,” Charles smirks at Lando.

“Ugh,” Lando wrinkles his nose in disgust. “That won’t do.” He glares at Ada’s gray Ferrari T-shirt and Lucy’s red one. “I’ll find something else for you.”

He disappears before Charles and I can say anything else.

I roll my eyes, a point for Charles not to comment on it, before we make our way into the Ferrari garage.

“Y/N!” I’m pulled into a pair of arms as soon as I enter. I don’t recognize the arms- he’s gotten much more muscular over time- but I do recognize the cologne.

He still needs to use less of it.

“Oh, Carlos,” I wrap my free arm around him.

When I was Lando’s assistant and Carlos still drove at McClaren, we became close because of their close friendship. I didn’t tag along on all of their outings, I hate golf, but we would go out to dinner and for walks together.

We became close fast.

And it was difficult when I had to end that friendship.

I pull back, wiping at the light tears in my eyes at the sudden rush of emotions hitting me. Luckily, Carlos doesn’t comment on it, leaning in closer to brush his thumb against the little girl in my arm’s cheek.

“And this must be Ada, I see you in all of your mother’s stories.”

“Is everyone on your private story’s list but me?” Charles whines.

“Step it up, Charles,” Carlos grins at his teammate, brushing a strand of Lucy’s hair behind her ear. Her cheeks blush as she stares at him.

“Oh no, no boys,” Charles scolds gently, turning away so that Lucy could no longer face Carlos.

To my surprise, Ada’s staring back at Carlos. Not in a bashful way like her sister, but in a curious way.

“I heard it’s your birthday,” Carlos says to Ada and Lucy.

“On Sunday they turn two,” I explain.

“Well I got you birthday presents that you need to open today.” He grabs two nearby bags.

“Carlos, they don't need anything. Especially not today, it’s not their birthday yet,” Charles tells his teammate.

“They’re opening them anyway.”

Carlos’ tone leaves no room for argument and the girls have already focused on the bags, so Carlos hands them over to open.

They’re toddler sized Ferrari hats, but on the brim there’s a 55 and they’re both signed by Carlos.

“Really? You signed it too?” Charles looks unimpressed. I can’t help but laugh, which earns a grin for Carlos and a glare from Charles.

“They could make a nice buck off of it one day.”

~

I try to subtly walk through the paddock back to the Ferrari garage to meet Charles after showing the girls the cars on the track for qualifying, but it’s not easy with a tired toddler on each hip while trying to look out for any phones recording or taking pictures of us.

An arm suddenly pushes on my back, guiding me towards a different garage.

“These are my nieces,” Lando’s familiar voice announces proudly to the group of mechanics and engineers.

“Ew, Lando, get your arm off of me, you’re all sweaty,” I whine.

He rolls his eyes but removes his arm, reaching out to forcibly take the exhausted girls from my arms into his.

“No, you must be tired from the race, I can hold them,” I reassure them.

“Let me spend time with my girls,” he disagrees.

“And who might you be?” One of the mechanics raises an eyebrow at me flirtatiously.

Before I can handle it (in other words, embarrass myself) Lando speaks up, glaring at the mechanic. “She’s my sister.”

One of the other mechanics nudges the guy and mumbles something. All I can manage to hear is ‘Leclerc.’

Speak of the devil and he may appear.

“What are you doing here?” Charles asks in confusion, resting a hand on my waist gently and stepping around me to wave at his daughters.

“Lando pulled me in here,” I explain.

“Did you come to spy on the enemy, Leclerc?” A man I’ve only seen in photos approaches. Well, he’s really just a boy.

“Oscar Piastri,” my face lights up at the sight of him and I step forward to shake his hand. “It’s so great to finally meet you. You know, I loved your overtake in F2 in Bahrain-””Now hold on,” Lando interrupts me. “Are you telling me that my sister is actually an Oscar Piastri fan?”

“Yes, I really am,” I admit, watching as Charles wrestles Ada out of Lando’s arms.

“I can’t believe this, my own sister likes my teammate more than she likes me,” my brother says in mock disbelief.

“Why wouldn’t she? I’m the one decorating the cake for her daughters’ birthday party on Sunday,” Oscar grins smugly.

“Birthday party? On Sunday? Here?” Charles repeats parts of the sentence, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, that’s what he just said. Do you need your ears checked or something?” Lando questions jokingly.

“You can’t have a birthday party for the girls here on Sunday. We’re having a birthday party for them in the Ferrari motorhome,” Charles says.

“Well I’m their uncle that they rarely see, so they really should be spending more time here with me, and that includes having their birthday party here,” Lando responds.

“And I’m their dad, so they should have their birthday party in a familiar environment. And that’s surrounded by red,” Charles narrows his eyes at his competitor.

As if they both suddenly remember that I’m there, they turn to look at me with expectant gazes. As soon as I recognize the expressions, I laugh.

“Oh hell no, you’re not dragging me into this. Figure it out yourselves.”

They turn back to each other in defeat, narrowing their eyes at each other once again. This is going to be a long weekend.

~

“Oh my god,” I gape at the screen, hugging the girls tight to me as Charles crosses the line for a second place finish. “Dad came in second place, girls.”

The girls, despite not knowing what I’m saying, clap their hands in excitement, causing the engineers and mechanics around me to laugh.

“Are you going to the podium?” One of them asks.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I frown, fighting myself internally.

On one hand, it would be a great opportunity to remind Charles that I care about his career and success. Having his daughters at a race with him to watch him for the first time and then to get a podium, I know he’d be a little disappointed if we weren’t to go to the podium celebrations.

But on the other hand, I’m still worried about Ada and Lucy’s privacy. I know that pictures of their faces are already out there, but I want to do all that I can to prevent more of them from getting out. I want them to be able to have that privacy to decide what they want to do in the future instead of always being known as Charles Leclerc’s daughters. And a grand prix with cameras and strangers everywhere… they’re bound to constantly be on camera, especially with the controversy surrounding their existence and sudden appearance.

“Are you worried about their faces being seen?” Another mechanic asks. “Because I have a solution.”

I give him a curious look and he grabs two nearby helmets used for decoration, putting them over the girls heads. They squeal in excitement and I laugh.

“That’s genius.”

Together we make our way to the podium, crowding together behind the fence for Charles, Max, and Sergio to drive up. Everyone around me is polite, making sure to leave me plenty of room with a toddler on each hip.

When Charles pulls up and sees us, an expression that I’ve never seen before appears on his face. It lights up and it’s full of adoration, and he practically runs over to us.

He rips his helmet off, throwing it haphazardly on the ground behind him before leaning forward, lifting the visor of Ada’s helmet and placing a kiss on her nose. He does the same to Lucy and I smile at the gesture, expecting him to move on to the guys beside me to celebrate with them.

To my surprise, he pulls me into a hug, Ada and Lucy squished between us.

“Happy for you,” I confess to him, choking back the sobs that want to escape. He gives me a soft smile, able to tell that I’m seconds away from crying.

Thankfully he moves on to the guys before I start bawling my eyes out. I don’t know why I feel like crying. Maybe because this feels so… natural. Being at grand prixs again, surrounded by all of the drivers and mechanics and engineers. Taking my daughters to grand prixs, showing them the world that their uncle and dad were raised in and now are dominating.

Maybe it’s the pride that I feel for Charles, who’s having such a great season.

When Charles is up on the podium, I do let a tear slip.

~

“Good, I was just looking for you. They’re setting up the birthday party at the McClaren motorhome right now,” Lando catches up to the four of us as we walk back to the Ferrari motorhome.

“Lando, the Ferrari motorhome is already getting their birthday party ready,” Charles informs him slowly.

“Well, I already told you that McClaren’s going to host their birthday party.”

“And I already told you that Ferrari’s going to host their birthday party.”

Once again, the two stare each other down.

God I’m really getting sick of this.

“Guys, I have something to show you,” Alex suddenly appears, breaking the tension.

“Oh thank god,” I mumble, following behind him as he begins to make his way down the paddock.

“Is it in the Williams motorhome? That’s such a far walk,” Lando whines. I hear a thump, then another thump as Lando hits Charles back.

Alex holds the door open for us and Ada and Lucy enter ahead of everyone else. All of the sudden, a bunch of people jump out from behind the furniture in the room, shouting “Surprise!” and blowing party blowers.

Ada looks around shyly, clinging to my leg, while Lucy takes a step forward with a wide grin, loving the attention. There’s people from all the teams here, from employees in the communication departments to mechanics, engineers, and drivers.

I recognize a lot of the faces even years later, but there’s some new ones as well.

“Thank you for this,” I murmur to Alex as Lance Stroll and Esteban Ocon manage to pry Ada off my leg to dance and Lucy watches in a trance as Fernando Alonso and Sergio Perez engage in a conversion in Spanish.

“Of course,” he grins at me, knowing how much easier it is to have this party at a neutral location. Not only to stop the fighting, but also to hopefully mend the relationship between Lando and Charles.

It’s only when Ada and Lucy blow out the candles on their cake that it hits me. I have two two year olds.

Of course I know that they’re not the small babies that I once cradled in my arms or fed bottles to, but it’s so much harder actually realizing it. They’ll never be as little as they are now.

And right now… they’re not even that little. Right now they’re holding their own forks, feeding themselves cake while trying to keep it off of themselves as best as they can. They’re real people with thoughts and emotions, and they no longer need me as much as they once did.

It makes my heart hurt.

I glance over at Charles, thinking of his reaction when we found out that I wasn’t pregnant. If anyone’s the father of my girls, I’m glad that it’s him. It makes me curious about my future children… what their dad will be like. If it’ll be Charles.

“Why is she staring at him like that?” Alex’s question snaps me out of my thoughts.

My cheeks blush, thinking that I’ve been caught, but once I follow his sightline I see Lucy staring at Carlos, batting her eyelashes at him.

“She’s trying to flirt with him,” I inform him.

“That’s flirting with him?” Esteban raises his eyebrows in disbelief. It’s literally just staring creepily at Carlos and blinking quickly. She needs to work on it.

“I wonder where she learned that from,” Lily giggles, nudging me.

“That’s a classic Y/N move,” Charles chimes in.

“What? No it’s not,” I deny, reaching over to push his shoulder teasingly.

“Please, do you not remember?”

“Remember what?”

He grins at me and it’s like we’re the only two people in the room. “Remember when we would lay in bed at night on a race weekend and you would bat those pretty little eyelashes at me, ‘Oh Charles, can you please go get me a chocolate bar from the vending machine?’”

“I never did that,” I exclaim.

“Yes you did, on multiple occasions. I’m surprised we were never caught with how often I would have to buy you damn chocolate bars,” he teases.

I laugh and he joins in softly.

Someone clearing their throat snaps us out of the moment and I suddenly remember there’s people around us.

“Um, let’s move on to presents,” I announce awkwardly.

Ada and Lucy get so much stuff. Esteban gets them a book on how to learn French- I guess he doesn't know much about two year olds, Pierre gets them mini purses from Louis Vuitton, Lando had two toddler sized play cars sent to our new apartment but gives the girls practically the whole Barbie aisle for the party, and Max gets them a baby shark toy (something about how good the song is).

Slowly, everyone begins to leave, and Lando and George keep the girls entertained while Charles and I begin to clean up.

“Well I’d say the party was a success,” I say to Charles, bending down to pick wrapping paper off of the ground.

“Yeah, Albon did a great job hosting. Ada and Lucy had a lot of fun,” he glances over to where they’re playing with their new toys.

“So did the drivers,” I chuckle.

I begin to rise at an angle, hands full of wrapping paper as Charles bends down at an angle to grab some more wrapping paper. I turn my head at the same time he ducks his down, his lips landing on my own.

We kiss for a split second, lips moving against each other in sync before I remember where we are and pull away with a quiet gasp.

My eyes look over at the group of four, seeing them still playing. They didn’t notice the accidental kiss at all.

The damage is done as I look over at Charles, who’s staring back at me with wide eyes and an open mouth. I stare back with blushing cheeks.

“Are you guys almost done?” Lando calls out, breaking our staring competition.

“Yeah, just a little bit longer,” I agree, not breaking the gaze with Charles.

~

We don't have the chance to talk about it.

As soon as we get back to the hotel, both girls are sent into meltdowns from the sugar high and a long, exhausting day. Then, since they’re both throwing a fit, once one begins to calm down the other one begins to overreact which sends the other one into a fit again.

Finally Charles and I manage to bathe them, change them into their pajamas, and get them to bed.

If I’m exhausted, I don’t know how Charles feels.

I can feel his eyes on me as I anxiously fold one of Lucy’s dirty shirts.

I look up, meeting those hazel eyes that I’ve become so accustomed to seeing. Now I don’t know what I would do without them.

“So…” I start awkwardly.

He just looks so good like this. Hair messy from a long day, in just a casual T-shirt and gym shorts. It’s his dad look. The dim light from the hotel lamp casts a warm glow on him, making me want to just reach over and pull him into my arms.

Before I can even react, he takes two steps forward, hands gently placed on my biceps as he turns me towards him. He leans down and my hands reach up to grab the back of his biceps as our lips meet.

It’s an anticipated kiss, and god, was it worth the wait.

His lips are warm and comforting, like pulling on a sweatshirt straight out of the dryer. Like it’s meant to be, and although you know it can’t last forever, you’ll savor it while it’s happening.

His hands slide down to my waist and my arms wind around his neck, pulling him as close to me as I can.

It’s Ada and Lucy’s second birthday. And it’s also the day that Charles and I kissed twice- once on accident and once on purpose.

This may be one of the happiest days of my life.

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[leafofkudzu]

Hello and happy impending December! The first Saturday of said impending month fast approaches, which means it's time for another art party hosted by my guild, Verdant Shield [VS]! I had been toying with the idea of a Wintersday themed party for this month, but since the holidays are a ways off still, let's instead kick back and take in the warm wintry vibes of the Zelechor Hot Springs!

For those who aren't familiar with art parties, they're a concept carried over from Final Fantasy XIV - in-game get-togethers for artists/writers/creatives of all types to hang out, chat, and create together! Get your favorite character/look together, head to the location, find someone that catches your eye, and create! Afterwards, everyone posts their creations in a shared tag (ours is #VSArtParty) so others can see, interact, and share! Tl;dr: the ‘goal’ of an art party isn’t to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community!

Time and /squadjoin information is under the cut, but will also be posted again via reblogs as the squads go up on the day of the party!

Location Information:

The Zelechor Hot Springs is a location that's been suggested a few times, and met this month's loose criteria for a wintry theme, so tada! It's about halfway up the West side of Wayfarer Foothills, and has a convenient waypoint literally directly at it, no mounts or funny trickery required!

This might be the most useless map image yet, but ta da!:

Time & Squad Details:

The time zone weirdness from last month has now sorted itself out, so unless you're in an area where Daylight Savings Time doesn't apply, things should be back to their normal times again!

As we always do, we'll be having two parties - one on EU servers and one on NA ones - with an hour break in between, though people often jump directly from one to the other so don't be surprised to see things running late and/or starting early!

The first party will be on EU servers and begin at 9pm Central European Time (aka 3pm Eastern Standard Time or 4 hours before in-game reset). I'll be hosting on my EU alt account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Aemryn of Dusk for an invite.

The second party will be on NA servers and begin at 7pm Eastern Standard Time (aka 1am Central European Time or at in-game reset). I'll be hosting on my main account, so to join either /squadjoin or whisper Zhalsi for an invite.

Closing Words:

My apologies for the slightly delayed post, and also for the strange format of the image - I'm on a trip out of the country atm and apparently forgot to bring the right external drive with all my stuff on it! But I still have computer access, so don't you worry about the hosting of stuff, I'll be just fine!

Thank you all for coming out to these, I know I don't talk much aside from fielding whispers from people wondering what's going on, but I do enjoy watching everyone have fun and make such good memories together! These events are the highlight of each month for me, for sure, and I can't wait to see you all again next week! ♥

[artemis32]

also the first person to come to mind when you said someone stubborn enough to ignore aizawa’s glare was bakugo, I feel like that would stress aizawa out so bad

platonic yandere aizawa shouta iii

Fun fact my top three favourite characters (in no specific order) in bnha are Aizawa, Bakugo and Shigaraki, so this is perfect

Also I finished this before any of the other subjugation drabbles as requested, but I'm clearing out my drafts, so hopefully I'll be able to post a few more this week

platonic aizawa masterlist

bnha masterlist

Class 1a was up to something. Aizawa knew they were.

They weren’t good at being sneaky, and for the past two weeks, they’d been behaving strangely.

Ever since the class had seen you, he’d been slightly on edge, waiting for something to go wrong. And he knew that it would sooner or later.

Class 1a were disruptive and oftentimes insubordinate. They couldn’t follow the rules and they got into trouble more often than Aizawa could keep count of.

They were troublemakers.

Aizawa knew that.

Which is why he was so suspicious of them.

They had been perfectly behaved in lessons, quiet and diligent, completing every assignment he’d given to them. They hadn’t spoken out of turn or argued once within the past two weeks. Most suspiciously though, must have been the fact that they hadn’t once brought up the question of who you were again.

It made him uneasy.

It made him annoyed.

But instead of addressing the matter as he probably should have, he kept quiet, curious to see what exactly they were up to.

He found out by the end of that week.

****

“Okay sweetheart, I’m leaving now. Are you sure you don’t want to come with me? You’re more than welcome to, it won’t be long.”

You huff out a laugh. Aizawa was running errands and had been repeatedly questioning whether you wanted to come with him. You were sure he was trying to guilt trip you into joining him.

It might have worked.

It was working.

But you were a model student, as so, your homework and assignments had to come first - much to your father’s displeasure.

The only respite was that you’d be staying safely within the walls of UA, specifically in the apartment, which made your father feel much better about leaving you by yourself.

Sometimes you think he forgets that you’re a teenager – old enough to be home alone for a few hours.

“Yes, I’m sure dad. I’ll call you or Mr Yamada if there’s an emergency. I’ll see you later.”

He huffs, accepting that you wouldn’t change your mind.

The hug he draws you into is crushing and he presses your face into his chest. You feel his chest rumble as he lets out a laugh.

“Don’t let Hizashi hear you call him that, you know how much he hates it.”

You scowl slightly. The eclectic blond often insisted that you call him by his first name, or the ever-endearing title of 'Uncle Zashi', making a habit of reminding you every time you happened to accidentally ‘forget’. You enjoyed his company, but his persistent attitude grated on your nerves sometimes.

“Don’t you dare tell him.”

Aizawa laughs again before reminding you to stay safe and call him in the case of an emergency.

You bid him one last farewell before shutting and locking the door. Paranoia seemed to be one of your father’s defining traits when it came to you.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re set up in the living room, surrounded by snacks, stationary, and papers scattered over the floor and coffee table.

****

Three hours later, you decide to call it quits for the day, packing up your belongings and returning to the living room to flop down on to the couch.

You’d been laying on the couch, watching a rerun of some old movie your father enjoyed, when there was a knock at the door.

Thinking nothing of it, you haul yourself up and make your way to the door.

It could have been anyone - Midnight or Present Mic, here to keep you company or watch over you at your father’s request, or it could have been another teacher, here to drop off paperwork for your father. Perhaps it was your father himself, having forgotten his keys.

Living amongst a group of heroes and heroes-in-training makes you comfortable, and you don’t bother checking who is at the door before flinging it wide open.

Two boys and a girl, all around your own age stand before you. One of the boys and the girl look surprised, eyebrows rising, creasing their foreheads. The second boy remains impassive, his dual-coloured eyes trailing over you, head to toe.

“Can I help you?”

They continue to stare at you for a moment before the pink-skinned girl harshly elbows the blond boy next to her.

He exclaims in pain before clearing his throat and smiling widely. 

“Hi there. I was wondering if Aizawa sensei is home?”

If your father had passed one trait on to you, it had to be his suspicious nature. You straighten slightly, nudging the door closed a few centimeters.

“Aizawa sensei is out running a few errands. He should be back soon - would you like to leave a message?”

The boy with the dual-coloured eyes leans forward slightly, his upper body now crossing over the threshold into your apartment.

“May we come in?”

Though he poses it as a question, he doesn’t wait for an answer, already pushing past you and into the hallway behind you.

Your protests fall on deaf ears, and the boy and girl still in the doorway seem to panic alongside you, scrambling in after him.

“Todoroki, you can’t just barge in like that!”

The dual-haired boy - Todoroki - ignores them and chooses to look around the apartment instead, taking in his surroundings with an air of disinterest.

“I have a question. Answer truthfully and we’ll leave.”

His two friends, still panickedly trying to urge him out of your house, still as he speaks. They stare at one another, then at Todoroki, before nodding and looking at you.

By now, you’re anxious and wary, eager to get them out. You take a deep, calming breath.

Doing as they say seems to be the best decision. You didn’t want to stir up trouble, and you definitely didn’t want your father or another teacher stumbling upon the scene.

“Fine, one question and then you’re gone.”

You cross your arms and press your mouth into a hard line, attempting to cover up your anxieties with an air of anger.

The three agree to your terms, Todoroki humming lightly before speaking.

“Is Mr Aizawa your father?”

It’s a loaded question, one you aren’t sure you want to answer. 

While you and your father hadn’t tried to cover up the fact that you were his daughter, you also hadn’t gone out of your way to announce it. The fact that the three standing before you were so curious that they went as far as to basically break into your house to get an answer made you concerned. 

Their eagerness made you believe that it would be best to lie. Then again, what would you tell them - being honest may be the only way to get them to leave without a fuss.

You nod slowly, hesitantly.

“Yes, he is.”

While the boy and girl let out noises of disbelief, Todoroki doesn’t seem to be surprised.

“See guys, told you.”

The blonde boy splutters for a moment, shoulders slumped in defeat.

“Is that all?” You ask apprehensively, still tense and nervous.

An unspoken question lingers in the air.

Will you leave now?

Todoroki nods, thanking you before calling for his two companions.

At the door, he pauses, turning to you one last time.

“Can I ask that you keep this visit a secret, just for a while. Don’t tell Aizawa sensei that we were here. Please.”

His demeanour is serious, though it seems like more of a demand than a request.

You’re already nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, sure.”

Regardless of whether he asked you or not, you wouldn’t have told your father of their visit. The last thing you needed was for his paranoia to be proven correct. 

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, and he definitely didn’t need to know that three students - three of his students - had been to his home to see you while he was away. Worse, that they knew you were his daughter.

If he found out, you’d never hear the end of it. In fact, you were slightly afraid he may never let you leave the house again.

No, you definitely would not be telling him about their visit.

By the time your father returns home hours later, you’ve scrubbed the memory of the three students from your mind, and he seems none the wiser.

The two of you have dinner and talk for a bit before going to bed.

You make no mention of the day’s events, and he doesn’t ask.

****

For the first time in what could have been years, you were in trouble. Big trouble.

From the moment you entered the apartment, it had seemed eerily still, too quiet to be natural.

When you first entered the living room, you saw your father sitting with his back towards you, posture straight and still. He didn’t turn to greet you and you feel a growing sense of unease when he tells you to sit down.

“How was your day?”

You’ve known your father long enough to recognize his tone, to know that he’s not asking because he’s actually interested.

Right now, your father, the ever stoic Shouta Aizawa, was furious.

“Answer me.”

“It was fine, classes were good.”

“Hmm. How about yesterday? What did you do yesterday?”

You’re wringing your hands now, fingers gripping at each other in a feeble attempt to mask how obviously your hands are shaking.

“Y-Yesterday was good, same as today, classes and whatnot...”

You trail off awkwardly, unsure of what exactly he wants to hear. You don’t ask though, some sense of self preservation telling you to keep your mouth shut.

“And the past weekend? How was your day on Saturday. You had some time alone, what exactly did you get up to then?”

Staring down at the floor, you clear your throat and try to think of an excuse.

“Ah, well, I got a few assignments done and made dinner.”

His hand on your shoulder almost makes you jump.

“Sweetheart, look at me.”

You don’t want to.

You don’t want to look at him, you don’t want to see his anger or disappointment or whatever other negative emotion lays there at the moment.

But his grip tightens slightly on your shoulder, not enough to hurt, just enough to grab your attention. So you close your eyes and take a deep breath before looking up and meeting your father’s gaze.

He’s angry. Angry and disappointed and everything that you feared he would be. But most of all he looks concerned, worry pinching at the juncture between his eyebrows and at the corners of his mouth.

“What happened while I was out?”

You weren’t often emotional, and you definitely didn’t cry. Crying was pointless, it didn’t change anything.

But you had to bite your bottom lip and press your nails into your palms to stop yourself from bursting into tears in that moment.

It rarely happened that you kept anything from your father. You told him everything, no matter how big or small.

Truthfully, keeping a secret this big for as long as you had had been weighing you down. You felt guilty. Granted, you weren’t exactly lying to him, but it pained you to hide something like this from your father.

And so you cracked.

A few hot tears rolled down your cheeks as you sniffled, wiping at your nose with the sleeve of your jacket.

“Three of your students came to the apartment. They asked to see you but I said you were out.”

Aizawa’s grip on your shoulder had lessened, his arm wrapping around you, shifting you closer to him.

“Is that all?”

You debated lying to him, only for a moment. It technically wouldn’t be lying, you just wouldn’t be telling the whole truth.

The idea deflated quickly once his hand came up to brush away a few tears, his thumb gently rubbing at the soft skin under your eye.

“T-They just asked if I’m your daughter or not, they left after that.”

He hums again, staring at you for a few seconds longer. It feels as if he’s pining you in place, pressuring you into talking. Evidently, you have nothing else to say.

“Can you tell me what they looked like sweetie?”

****

You imagined that this is how criminals felt.

Under any other circumstances, it might have been funny.

Before you, lined up in somewhat of an identity parade, were a the three students from your father’s class, along with a few other guilty-looking students.

Three girls, five boys, all standing pin straight, facing forward. 

In the room next door stood the rest of the class, the remaining twelve students standing in silence.

Your father’s fury, evidently, had not been aimed at you. 

Well, not fully.

He was admittedly quite upset with you for not being truthful with him, but his anger was mainly aimed at his students for interfering with his personal life. With his family.

“Sweetheart, I’ve seen how high strung you’ve been over the past few days. I was concerned, but I didn’t want to overwhelm you so I gave you some space. But today one of my students let something slip and I put together the fact that they must have had something to do with the way you’ve been acting recently.”

You didn’t want to outwardly expose the three students who had come to see you that day, but your father had threatened to punish the entire class, so you’d caved and described them as best you could.

So here they stood, not once making eye contact with you.

"Go on," your father said, staring them down with a harsh glare, one like you'd never seen before. You knew your father could be strict with his students, but this was something else.

They all bowed forward at the hip, staring straight at the ground as they spoke in sync.

"We're sorry."

You stand in stunned silence for a few short moments, before shaking your head.

"Oh, um, it's fine. Thank you for the apology. And I'm sorry too."

The blond-haired student from before tries to raise his head, a wide smile on his face before your father's hand meets his neck, holding his head down.

"Did I say you could look up?"

"Sorry sensei."

Aizawa hums, glancing at you.

"Sweetheart, you can leave now. I'll see you later."

As much as you'd like to argue, you don't. Instead, you nod and bow to the eight students before you, bidding them goodbye before making for the door.

****

Aizawa couldn't find you.

He'd stayed behind to have a little chat with a few of his students, intent on returning home to you afterwards, but now, fifteen minutes later, you were gone.

You weren't in the 1A dorms and you weren't at home.

There was nowhere else that you could be, so where had you gone?

He begrudgingly made his way back to the dorms, resigning himself to spending his afternoon with the troublesome students of class 1A.

Only, he didn't have to go very far to find you.

Not with the small crowd of students trying, and failing to hide in the bushes next to the dorms.

He sighs heavily, walking up behind them silently.

Crouching down, he whispers, "What are you looking at?"

The yelps Denki and Sero let out are both panicked and silent, though they quickly scramble back to where they were, shushing Aizawa with flapping hands.

He quirks an eyebrow. Whatever they were spying on had to be interesting if they were brave enough to shush him.

Aizawa shrugs and cranes his neck to see what has them and their friends so intruiged, and-

Absolutely not.

There, sat on a bench in the hidden garden next to 1A's dorm room, was Bakugo Katsuki.

Accompanied by you, his daughter.

And unless his eyes deceived him - was he blushing?

Having seen enough, Aizawa stands and pushes between the students clustered behind the bushes.

He calls your name, and you look up with a start, eyes wide and dazed, your cheeks strangely flushed.

"Dad?"

You and Bakugo both jump up, and you head towards Aizawa while Bakugo slips away.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were going straight home? And why were you with Bakugo?"

You laugh awkwardly, deflecting his questions as you grab his arm and head towards your own apartment, away from the 1A dorms.

"Sorry dad, I got a bit caught up. Hey, how'd the interrogation go?"

You were trying to distract him. Aizawa knew that.

But your father was nothing if not willing, so he let you get away with it, making a mental note to look into what you were doing with Bakugo Katsuki of all people later.

****

Of all the students in your father's class, Bakugo was the one he thought would stay away from you. Far away.

Unfortunately, nothing seemed to be going his way lately, and Aizawa was infuriated to learn that Bakugo had taken a liking to you.

While he may have his own strong suits, he was definitely not the type of person your father would want you to end up with. Honestly, if he had it his way, you would remain happily single and by his side until both of you died.

But those plans were put on the back burner for now.

He learnt, from a collection of camera feeds and fearful student reports, that you had indeed been on your way back home after your father's intervention, but you'd gotten caught up exploring the grounds around the dorm area.

No one could fault you for that - it was Aizawa's fault really, he never let you out on your own, especially not to explore.

It was something he'd have to work on at a later date.

While on your little adventure, you'd run into a feisty blond.

Bakugo had been tasked with clearing away the autumn leaves around the 1A dorms, a minor punishment for some or other misdemeanour, and he'd caught your attention.

That wasn't unusual - you were curious when you wanted to be. It was a trait that your father both loved and loathed.

What was unusual was that Bakugo had played along.

Aizawa knew that Bakugo knew you were his daughter. That meant that he knew not to snap at you or treat you with his usual brutish attitude as he did with his classmates.

He knew that, but he couldn't understand why Bakugo had taken such a liking to you. Aizawa knew you were perfect, but he also knew that he was biased when it came to his opinion of you.

Well, he thought, I'll just have to ask him myself.

****

For the first time in all his years as a teacher, Shouta Aizawa was stunned to the point of silence.

He never imagined the conversation would take a turn like this.

"Sensei?"

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the heavy fog over his mind as he throws the quizzical blond a hard look.

"No."

"No?"

He'd never felt any genuine anger or violence towards any of his students, but this-

"Well sensei, we met a while ago. She- I knew she was your daughter, so I tried to keep my distance but, well..."

"I'm sure you understand what I mean."

"We've known each other for a while. "

"If you'll allow it-"

The conversation replayed in his head as a series of broken sentences and snapshots.

He felt off-kilter, unsure of himself in the worst way possible.

The only thing he knew was that, at this moment, someone was threatening to come between you and him - threatening to take you away from him, to steal you from him.

"No," he said sharply, "Stay away from my daughter."

It was Bakugo's turn to look shocked, though he was faster to calm himself than Aizawa was.

"Sensei, is this to keep her safe, or because you don't want to share her?"

It's a strangely phrased question, one that would puzzle anyone. Anyone but Aizawa.

He understood exactly what the hotheaded child in front of him meant by the word 'share'.

It spelt trouble in more ways than one.

"No. You asked and that's my answer. Now go back to your dorm," he says, waving him out without another word.

Bakugo nods and leaves without further argument, not once looking back.

Aizawa slumped back in his seat.

Bakugo knew what you meant to his teacher, beyond what most people thought they knew - he understood the lengths he'd go to to keep you safe and happy. The fact that he'd left without a fight proved as much.

More concerning than that though, had to be the fact that Bakugo was the same as him. He had the same unsettling urge to be with you, to be the only source of your attention.

Aizawa had seen it in his eyes, but heard it moreso in his words.

Share.

No, he wouldn't share you. Not with anyone.

[helladirections]

Under Summer Skies

(the long awaited Campfic)

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

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

MASTERLIST | PATREON | USS TAG | WRITING TAG

Deleted Scene - Campout Extra 1: Lemon Over Ice

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

Preview:

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

Read below or on AO3 or Wattpad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really, with kids this young?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally a knock at the door.

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

The girls shrieked.

“Yeah, come on in,” YN replied. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your middle name?”

“Edward.”

“How many years have you come to camp?”

“This would be m’tenth.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Pink.”

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

“What color is your underwear right now?”

“Blue.”

“Boxers or briefs?”

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

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

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

“Ooh tell us the story!” 

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

“Oh was YN your first kiss?!?!?” 

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

YN nodded at the memory.

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

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

“And your counselors were asleep?”

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

The campers laughed. 

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

He looked over at her for reassurance and she nodded. 

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

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

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

“Harry, do you have a girlfriend?” 

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

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

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

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

“No, no I don’t,” he answered softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Everything,” he answered quickly.

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

“Ok, next question?” 

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

His smirk spread across his face. 

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

“That means yes, you totally do!” 

He shrugged. “Alright, who’s next?” 

“How do I know if a boy likes me?”

“Who was your first crush?”

“What do penises taste like?”

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

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

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

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

“Except not who you like!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry smirked. “So did I.”

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

She turned back to see him shrug. 

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

“Really?”

“Yeah, why would I mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

YN nodded, kicking a pebble lightly with her toe. 

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

“Which part?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, sorry.”

“Lookin’ at the stars again?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Y’cold?”

“Hm?” she asked.

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah. If you don’t mind?”

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

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

“Thanks,” she whispered. 

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

“What?” she giggled.

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not that she ever could.

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you going tonight?”

YN couldn’t help but chuckle. 

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

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

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

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

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

“But sometimes counselors lie,” the girl insisted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well hello darling,” he greeted her softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked back at him quizzically. 

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

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

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

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

“Are y’eyes closed?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

YN sighed, feigning discontent. 

Harry just raised his brow, challenging her.

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

“Fine, just this once though, ok?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Do the honors?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harry!” 

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

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

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

“Hey, stop that,” YN interrupted.

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

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

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

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

Again, he nodded.

“Great, tell me those things.”

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

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

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

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

“Towards the lake?” 

“Yeah, why not?” 

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

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

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

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

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

He kept his focus straight ahead as he nodded.

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

“Mhmm.”

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

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

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

YN shivered as a cold wind blew through them. 

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

She shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What game?”

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

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

“What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Out with it!”

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

“So, a praise kink?” she clarified.

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

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” 

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

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

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

“Yeah? Y’think so?”

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

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

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

YN’s eyes went wide for a moment. 

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

“Ever?”

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

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

“What’s taking y’so long?” he whined.

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

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

Now she was confused. “What?”

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

“Harry!” 

“No, I’m gonna make you say it.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, really? Never?” 

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

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

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

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

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

YN couldn’t keep from laughing at that. 

“Ok your turn,” she declared.

“Shoot.”

“How big is your dick?”

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

“You’re just saying that!” 

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

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

“Well now I do, yeah.”

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

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

Harry laughed. 

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

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

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

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

She stopped short, but his gaze never left her.

“And you were thinking about...?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

“Harry!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

“You look like shit.”

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, H.” 

“Of course.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Duty calls.”

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

“So you’re saying he can’t last?” 

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

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

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

“Forgot my water bottle.” 

“Have some of mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Here lemme just...” 

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

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

“See, Dream Team.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sounded scared. 

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

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

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

“No,” Harry deadpanned. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Obviously.”

She smiled softly. 

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

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

Harry sighed through the speaker. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what?” 

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

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

Harry groaned on the other end. 

“That was terrible.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?” 

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

“Been thinking a lot about you, H.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m yours?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” 

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

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

But she didn’t ask. 

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

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

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

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

“Yeah...see you.” 

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

“YN!” she whisper-shouted.

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

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

“Yes...” 

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

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

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

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” she sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YN playfully whacked him on his arm.

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

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

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

YN held her breath. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Think you can get past me, Styles?”

“Maybe.” His dimples were on full display.

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

Harry shrugged. “Maybe I am.” 

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

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

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

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

“NO! This is for Red Team!” 

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

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

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

“Never!” he answered. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are we, 15?” YN teased. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?” He admitted. 

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

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

“Are y’alright? That wasn’t too..?” 

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

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

“No, I’m fine H.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, you’re not a virgin are you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me neither.” 

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

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

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

“Harry?” 

“Yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Making what obvious?” 

“That... that I want you.” 

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

“Want me how?” she asked, breathless. 

“Want you like this.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What does that mean?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Should probably head down now,” she said. 

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

. . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

“How much time do we have left?” 

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

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

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

“Eager today, hm?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“And...?”

“Yes,” she breathed out desperately.

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

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

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

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

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

“I know,” he cut her off.

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

“Take off your shirt,” she demanded. 

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

“Like what you see?” he teased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nodded. 

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

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

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

YN felt the cold air meet her center and shivered. 

“Won’t be cold for long, I promise.” 

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

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

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

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

“Harry...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll try.”

“Good girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She giggled at that. 

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

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

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

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

“Gonna let me help, then?” she asked softly. 

He nodded in response as YN hooked her fingers in his waistband and pulled his pants down. When his length sprang up and nearly hit his stomach, she had to pause. YN wanted so badly to admire his cock, to appreciate his body the way he had done for her, or maybe even more so. But they didn’t have time. She could swear it was both longer and thicker than what he had described while they were drinking a few days ago, but she could easily be remembering wrong. Regardless, it had no business being as pretty as it was. Solid, a thick vein running up the side, his head sensitive and nearly purple as he started to leak. 

But right as she was about to reach for it and get to work, Harry stopped her. He grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips where he kissed each of her knuckles. 

“Wait, no babe,” he told her. “We don’t have time and I want... I want things to always be good with us, yeah? I made you feel good, and next time it can be my turn, ok?” 

With a few minutes left over, the two of them opted to stay where they were in her bed, YN resting her head on Harry’s chest and their arms wrapped around each other. This was the type of holding close she had been secretly hoping he was talking about up on the ropes course. She heard his heartbeat eventually start to slow down, and his breathing stretched out. If they had more time, they definitely would have both fallen asleep like that. 

But they didn’t. With five minutes left until electives ended, at the time they should have been walking out of the door, YN and Harry groaned in a very unsexy way as they pulled themselves out of the bed. Harry threw his clothes back on quickly, but YN had to dig through her shelf to find a new shirt and make sure to hide the dirty one at the bottom of her laundry bag. 

After changing, YN turned around to see Harry looking at her with a smile.

“What?”

“Nothing just...” he placed a short kiss on her lips. “Alright, now we can go.” 

It was like that for a few days, then, spending that quality alone time together in her cabin during hours off. On nights off they had to get more creative with their locations - the storage room on the field, behind the infirmary, in the oversized bathroom, on a platform hidden behind some trees that no one ever used. It was risky, sure. But it was exciting, and fun, and new. YN didn’t really care where they were or what they were doing as long as they were doing it together. 

Harry was so good with his words, too. So many years of practice made him great at getting her worked up just by what he said to her and how he said it. Sometimes he would whisper something naughty in her ear during the staff meeting when they were surrounded by their peers. But mostly he spoke to her in that perfect way while he was knuckles deep inside of her, or his head was buried between her legs, or his dick was inside of her mouth and his hand was on the back of her head. 

They always felt like they had limited time. Even on nights off, there was a curfew and the ever-present risk of getting caught. They were hardly the first couple to hook up at camp but still, no one wanted to get caught in the act. So with the risk and time limits hanging over their heads, they never felt safe enough to really go for it, to fully give themselves to one another in the way they really wanted to. 

YN didn’t mind though. Ever since that night on the cliff, she craved Harry’s lips on hers. It was like a drug. She started getting distracted while he was talking to her because instead of staring into his bright eyes, she was gazing longingly at his plush lips. On more than one occasion she caught herself right in time before leaning in to kiss him in front of campers. When they finally got to be alone, the first thing she would always do is attach herself to him by the lips and swear she would never let go. 

They weren’t always being naughty while they were alone though. Oftentimes they were doing the same thing they had always been doing, just with some extra affection. They still snuck into the kitchen to steal snacks but hid in an empty room so they could give each other kisses between bites. She told him about her day with her head on his lap as he played with her hair. And she scratched his back lightly while he was face down on her bed complaining about a camper. Sometimes they held hands and walked through the forest at night, reminiscing over old memories. And a lot of the time they held each other close, cuddling warm and cozy without saying a word. 

One night they decided to hike to the hidden campsite that was never used anymore and do some more stargazing together. They sat down on a big rock and Harry wrapped his arm around YN to hold her close and keep her warm. Like they always had, they would point out shapes in the stars to each other, discussing the universe or whatever else was on their minds. But what was on their mind tended to be them together, and in between, they couldn’t keep from kissing each other. YN even caught Harry looking at her when she was trying to point out a puppy she had found in the stars. 

“H, you’re not looking,” she chastised him softly.

“I’m looking right where I wanna be, babe.” He left a kiss on her cheek before finally turning to see where she was pointing to. 

And when it was quiet, they would talk about the future. They discussed their career paths, and how YN always wanted a little home with a picket fence and a dog. And Harry told her about the garden he always dreamed of when he was little. She told him about the cities in America she was considering when it was time to leave camp and start a year-round job, and Harry desperately tried to convince her that London was better. 

“But it’s so foggy and gray, Harry,” she had complained.

Harry shrugged. “Sure it’ll brighten up if you’re there. You’ll see. I’m taking you in September, and don’t even try to stop me.” 

And she didn’t. She loved the idea of getting to visit London with Harry, finally seeing the places he had been telling her about for years. But mostly she wanted to see him in his other comfort zone - camp was definitely a home to him but his real home, she was sure, would bring out something else in him that she might not have been able to see yet. And she always wanted to see more of him. 

One day they decided to do things a bit backward. Instead of sneaking out at night, they each slipped out of their cabins early in the morning, before the sun was up. YN was giggling to herself when she found Harry at the trailhead for the cliff in the corner of the field. They were each still in their pajamas, wrapped up in sweatshirts and bracing the chilly morning air. They made it up the hill in time to watch the sunrise over the camp together. The wind was sharper up there, so YN brought herself close to Harry, hugging him tightly and tucking her head under his chin. He held her close, rubbing up and down her back to help keep her warm as they looked out at the pinks and oranges in the sky together before quickly hurrying back down and into their cabins before anyone could realize they were missing. 

YN was notoriously not a morning person, but it was impossible to say no to Harry if he suggested something so special. To make it up to her, he had her coffee and breakfast waiting for her in the cafeteria that morning. 

Even in her sleepy state, Harry was able to make her laugh at breakfast that morning. They always laughed together, but in the recent days since they kissed they had been laughing even more. It was a big lift, considering Harry had been making her laugh for years. But for some reason, every word that came out of his mouth seemed funny, and she couldn’t keep herself from giggling. She was just as bad as some of her campers, except they would run away as the giggles broke out. With nowhere to run, YN was relegated to childish laughter right in front of Harry. But he never seemed to mind. She could swear it made him smile deeper. 

Harry took that laughter to heart, apparently. Because after his little move at capture the flag worked on her, he was desperate to catch YN like that again. He practically chased her around the pool until the lifeguard actually blew a whistle at them. She slowed down to a walk, but not for long as he rushed up beside her, grabbed her by the waist, and jumped into the deep end with her screaming. They came up for air laughing and gasping for breath. YN tried to shove him a bit, but Harry just swam away, daring her to catch him. 

And YN didn’t hold back anymore, either. Not that she really was before. But when he walked into dinner wearing a yellow shirt that showed off his honey skin tone and gray shorts that were a bit shorter than his regular tan line, she couldn’t control herself.

“You look hot,” she told him after looking around to make sure no one was in earshot. 

He shrugged. “I was out in the sun all day. Here I got you that salad dressing you like,” he said, passing a plate over to her. 

Harry had always taken care of her, asking if she needed water, reminding her to grab a jacket. He redoubled his efforts in that area. Refilling her water for her when the line at the fountain was long, reminding her to actually eat her meals when she got distracted by a needy camper, even bringing an extra one of his sweatshirts one evening because he knew that no matter how much he reminded her, she would always forget how chilly it gets once the sun goes down. The effort was big enough that YN noticed, like really noticed. And for the first time, she realized that he had been doing some of these things all along. And maybe if she wasn’t so dense she would have noticed that he didn’t just treat her so well because they were best friends, but because he cared so deeply for her that he couldn’t help it. 

YN did nice things for Harry as well. In addition to the onslaught of hugs he was receiving, she gifted him the clay pot she had made in art a few days prior. She painted it rainbow, and when she gave it to him she promised that on their next day off they would buy potting soil and a nice plant to grow in it. She snuck some of his dirty clothes into her bag when it was girls’ laundry day and he was running out of clean socks. Over the years she had made Harry countless friendship bracelets, but it was always because he asked her. Now she was making him one of the biggest she’d ever made and wouldn’t even let him pick the colors because the colors are based on my impression of your aura. You can’t give me any hints. 

The campers definitely noticed that something had changed between them as well, but for once, YN didn’t really mind their badgering. She started answering their questions a little bit more coyly. Instead of saying no when they asked if she was dating Harry, she would respond “well, what did I say last time? Do you think anything is different than the last hundred times you asked?” They were so intrigued by him, begging and begging for him to come by their cabin in the evening again, that YN finally relented and invited him to bring his guitar to sing lullabies. 

That night was a good deal for YN anyway. She got to spend more time with Harry, listen to his beautiful singing voice, and even put her campers to bed earlier than usual. His voice was nothing short of angelic to her ears, and apparently, the kids agreed. Most of them drifted off within fifteen minutes of his arrival. And although he was technically supposed to be singing to the campers, he spent most of the time looking directly into YN’s eyes. After most of the campers had drifted off, he played both Landslide and The Chain by Fleetwood Mac, which YN knew were two of his all-time favorite songs. His voice was soft and calming as YN eventually tucked herself into bed. 

Before he left, Harry gave YN a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Sleep well, baby,” he whispered to her, careful not to let any lingering ears hear the pet name. 

Already under the blankets and cozy, YN decided it was probably best to call it an early night. Not long ago she had been kept up late because she was thinking of Harry - but this night, she felt comforted and safe even just by the memory of him being there. She imagined he was in the bed with her, innocently cuddling up close to each other. That night she dreamt of his voice singing only to her while she rested her head on his chest, his arms embracing her, warm under the blanket in a room by themselves.

It might have been fun and games for the campers, but trouble came in the form of other staff noticing that things were changing. No one could really point to anything in particular because if they said it out loud, it sounded like the kind of stuff they always did - sitting together at meals, gossiping during programs, spending nights off together. What had changed was in the unspoken moments - the way they looked into each other’s eyes, the vibe let off while they were together.

It had gotten to a point where Mitch had actually reprimanded the two of them for spending too much time together and not enough time with their campers. They tried to argue that they were often together because they were with their campers, but it was to no avail. The ultimatum was that if they weren’t sitting with their campers at the next meal time, they wouldn’t be allowed in the same age group next session. And that was a risk neither of them were willing to take, especially not now. 

So they sat at the table eating their soggy tacos for lunch surrounded by 11 and 12-year-olds and pretending like everything was exactly the same. YN tried desperately to follow the stories the kids would tell, to understand the gossip they were spinning, but she always lost her way. Harry, on the other hand, was right there with them. He really shined while he was doing his job. He listened, he made them laugh, and he gave great advice. The girls were still coming up to him with random questions after his promise to always be honest with them after that first night in the cabin. 

And honestly, even while YN was surrounded by kids, she had a pretty narrow vision of Harry. She was practically blinded by the light he was letting off. Multiple times the kids had to reach around her to pass the sauce because she wasn’t paying enough attention. And normally she would have felt guilty - she really prided herself on her job as a counselor. But at this point, she didn’t really care as much as she cared about listening to whatever words came slowly dripping out of Harry’s mouth. 

So they met the ultimatum, but only barely. 

At dinner, Mitch instructed them to sit completely separately from each other. They needed to show the campers that you should be friends with everyone! And as hard as it was, both of them knew they had to do it. A little time apart would be ok. And they weren’t truly apart anyway, they were only sitting at different tables for one hour for dinner. How bad could it be? 

YN honestly thought it wasn’t too bad at all. At first, she was frustrated because after spending days completely absorbed in Harry, the thought of losing one of their favorite moments of the day together was going to be difficult. But she ended up sitting with a group of campers and Niall, and she already knew he could be fun after they were color wars captains together. He was funny and made her laugh with his dramatic stories and big gestures. The kids ate up every word that came out of his mouth (including when he told them to eat their vegetables). 

“Y’know,” he turned to her when the kids were mostly distracted. “On color wars day, when we went back to the cabin after lunch, he was all mopy and grumpy,” Niall told her. 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. But he always gets like that when you’re not around.” 

This was news to YN, but she couldn’t say she was surprised. She often felt out of sorts when they were separated too, and after the way he had been treating her so sweetly recently... 

“He was so cranky I had to mess with him so of course I put a peeled banana in his pillowcase that night. Didn’t laugh as much as I had hoped but, it helped.”

YN laughed at the story, and she kept laughing as Niall told her about more pranks and jokes he had pulled on Harry and others. And because she couldn’t see the look in Harry’s eyes from across the room as he watched her laughing at Niall’s jokes, she thought everything was fine and dandy. She happened to be standing next to Niall during closing circle that evening, and while the arm around her waist wasn’t Harry’s, it was nice being supported by someone over the age of 12. When the song ended, the kids all started to hug each other goodnight, so naturally, YN gave Niall a quick hug and then sought out Harry who was on the other side of the room. 

YN was excited to get a moment to talk with Harry after being separated from him for most of the day, but as she approached him she saw a deep furrow in his brow. Her smile dropped quickly as she cocked her head to the side, questioning him.

“Why’re you so grumpy?” 

“Not grumpy,” he denied, voice deeper than usual. 

She smiled then, reaching up to push back a curl of his hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. Grabbing his face lightly, she used her thumbs to try and smooth out the crinkle in his brow. His gaze softened a touch, but not as much as she had hoped. 

“Definitely grumpy about something...” 

He sighed. “Just... I mean just because we weren’t allowed to be together today doesn’t mean y’gotta be all over Niall, y’know?” he said softly so no one else could hear. 

At first, YN thought he was kidding and started to chuckle. But when his expression didn’t change she realized how serious he truly was. 

“Oh babe, I wasn’t all over Niall. He’s a nice friend, gives good hugs. No need to be jealous.” She used a gentle tone, hoping to soften him up a bit. 

“‘M not jealous,” he insisted. “It’s just...” he grabbed her hand and pulled her body closer to his, but still not as close as she knew he wanted. Whispering in her ear he finished his sentence, “You’re mine, ok?” 

“Course, H. We’re the dream team.” 

“No,” he shook his head. “We’ve always been the dream team, but now you’re really mine...”

“Oh.” She didn’t know how else to respond. The comment made her insides feel like melted marshmallows and the campfire that burnt them all at the same time. 

“I don’t like to share,” he admitted. 

YN stood there for a moment, thinking until a lightbulb went off. 

“You don’t have to share me, H. In fact... meet me by the parking lot again tonight. Think it’s a good night for our spot, yeah?” 

They agreed, and YN gave him a short kiss on the cheek goodbye, immediately blushing and looking around to see if anyone saw. She thought she might be in the clear, but just in case, she started brainstorming excuses. Harry could apparently see the gears rotating in her head because he cut off her thoughts.

“Tell them it’s a British thing - they won’t know any better.” 

And the line worked because the girls definitely had something to say when they were back in the cabin. They were so thoroughly convinced that YN and Harry were in love that the little one started asking things like “What’s the nicest thing he’s ever done for you?” and “Does he like to cuddle at night?” She brushed them off as usual, but it was getting harder every day to keep up the charade. Before they had gotten together it was annoying but fun to field their questions. But now? Now it was getting to be a bit of a struggle because camp rules required them to never find out the truth. 

She clicked the walkie-talkie three times as she headed out the door, and smiled when she heard three clicks in return. Practically skipping down the hill, she made her way to the parking lot where Harry was already waiting for her. Although this time she was hoping he had no alcohol with him. 

When they were still a few yards away from each other, YN couldn’t help but jog, jumping up into his open arms. She stood on her toes, arms around his neck, and kissed his lips eagerly. It was difficult, though, because both of them were smiling like teenagers. 

“Your hair looks nice,” she told him, dragging a hand through his locks after they separated their lips. 

“You’re only saying that because you want to get in my pants,” he teased.

She shrugged. “No, I think your hair looks nice and I wanna get in your pants.” 

He kissed her nose sweetly and then turned his attention away from her and back to the trunk of his car. 

“Listen I have a few things I thought we could bring with us...” he trailed off as he searched around in the endless dark void. 

“You are not drugging me up again, Styles,” she demanded.

“Don’t worry babe, wouldn’t even dream of it. I have... ah!” He looked proud of himself as he pulled out what looked to be an old blanket.

“Y’always get cold, even with a sweatshirt, so I thought we’d bring some blankets. And I knew you’d forget your water, so I brought some extra.”

“Take such good care of me, H.” 

They walked hand in hand down the path on the way to their old spot, recounting their days to one another. For the first time in a long time, they actually had new information for each other after spending some time apart. One of Harry’s boys might’ve sprained his ankle during sports time, causing a whole scene and refusing to go to the infirmary. And one of YN’s girls had gotten a crush on an older boy that she couldn’t stop talking about. Both of them, it turns out, had to field more questions than usual from their campers regarding their relationship. 

“Getting harder to convince them nothin’s happening,” Harry told her. “I think they see the way I look at you.” 

They reached their spot, the small stage in the middle of the clearing near the lake. Harry spread out one of the blankets he had brought and they laid down on it, on their backs so they could look up at the sky.

It was quiet, except for the rustling of the trees as the wind blew or the scurrying of a small animal a short distance away. She held his hand, interweaving their fingers as they settled into their peaceful surroundings. Even with all the other new fun things they were doing together, nothing would ever beat this - stargazing in their spot together. And for the first time in a long time, YN’s head wasn’t spinning with scenarios or ideas or questions. She was just content. Harry was with her, the stars were above her, and she was content. 

“After the summer, I think we should travel together,” he stated out of nowhere.

She laughed a bit. “Sure, H. You gonna pay for that on your amazing camp salary?” 

“I’ll find a way.” 

It was quiet again for a moment. 

“Can I wear your yellow sunglasses tomorrow?” she asked softly.

“Sure.” 

Another pause. 

“What do you think the stars would taste like?”

At first, she wasn’t sure if he was serious, but he asked the question softly so she considered it.

“Putting aside the fact that they’re like... fire or whatever...” they both giggled. “I think, like, metaphorically, they look like they taste like honey.” 

“Honey?”

“Yeah.” 

She didn’t explain. And he didn’t ask. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I like having you with me.”

“Always been here, babe. Was waiting for you to realize it.” 

She rolled over, then, to give him a quick kiss on the lips, though they were both smiling through it making it a bit difficult logistically. 

“I just wanna tell everyone that you’re mine,” he admitted quietly. 

“Everyone?” YN started. “I think you really just wanted to tell Niall today.” 

Harry laughed. “Yeah well... someone has to tell him eventually, hm?” 

“Tell him what, exactly?” she challenged. 

He looked at her with confusion. “That you’re mine?” His voice went up a bit at the end. 

“Is that a question? What... what does being ‘yours’ mean?” 

And he answered her question much like he did her question up on the cliff. 

“It means this-” He rolled over, kissing her deeply and bringing his hand up to rest on her jaw. 

YN wanted more answers, she wanted to get him to actually explain things for once. But more than that she wanted to keep feeling his lips on hers and his hands on her body. She would never get completely used to the feeling of kissing her best friend, but it was so good that the nerves faded away quickly. 

She reached to bring one hand up into his hair and the other one around his back. He rolled further on top of her, still hovering a bit but allowing their bodies to touch. She felt surrounded by him, and his smell, and the heat coming from his body. They were rolling around making out on an old blanket atop an abandoned stage, it was comfortable, and she never wanted the feeling to end. 

“Haven't... haven’t done much star g-gazing,” she stuttered between kisses. 

“Fuck the stars.” 

“Or you could fuck me.” 

He stopped then, backing his face away from hers so he could look into her eyes. Waiting a moment, he left ample space for her to take back her comment, to say it was a joke, to withdraw consent in any way. But she didn’t. She bit her lip, staring up at him like he was the entire universe, and silently begging him to do more. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, YN,” he replied breathlessly. 

“If I can’t finish, that’s on you.” 

He chuckled at her response before kissing her again, this time with more desire and urgency. Using his arms to support himself, he readjusted his legs so one was against her center, and started rolling his hips into her. She gasped into the kiss and he bit down on her lower lip lightly. 

Without stopping his movements, he whispered to her between breaths. “I think... you’ve always been mine... just didn’t know how... how to tell me.” 

And he wasn’t wrong in that assumption. She had always been his best friend, his default partner, his confidant, his dream team. And he was just as much hers, she just never realized that when he reminded her to drink water or gave her his sweatshirt it was because she had him utterly and completely whipped for her. 

“Tellin’ you now...” 

“Tell me then. Tell me you’re mine.” 

He practically growled at the last phrase, digging his hips into hers with more force and causing her to gasp again. Every bit of his body felt good, and she was only barely touching him. Her grasp in his hair got tighter, and her fingers curled in to grab at his shirt on his back. 

“Yours... I’m yours.”

“Fuck.” Harry hung his head low, trying to even out his breathing. “That’s by far the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me... I can’t... YN I can’t wait any longer. Gotta make you mine for real. Gotta... shit.” 

“You wanna fuck me?” she filled in for him. 

And again he groaned at her words. “Fuck yes, babe. I... shit I don’t have a...”

“It’s ok,” she cut him off. “I... I’ve got an IUD and I’m clean and you...”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m clean. Promise. Shit, you sure you’re ok with this?” he asked, giving her another opportunity to back out. 

But she didn’t need it. She was confident that she wanted this as she had never wanted anything else before. 

“I... yes Harry,” she told him. “Just...” 

His head snapped up to look at her when he sensed her hesitation. 

“Just haven’t done this in a while, so I might not be... I’m a bit rusty, ok?”

Harry gave a comforting chuckle.

“Baby, all you gotta do is lay there and look pretty. And you’re doing a damn good job at that. Doesn’t matter what you do, I think I’ve made it pretty clear I’m crazy for you.” 

YN wasn’t typically the most assertive in sexual situations, but in this case, she couldn’t wait any longer. She used her leverage on the back of his head to bring his face down closer to hers and continue kissing him, slipping her tongue between his lips until he opened up and allowed for the intrusion. Their tongues worked together, dancing and drawing shapes around each other furiously. 

Her grip in his hair tightened again and her hand on his back searched for anything to grab onto. He audibly groaned as she started scratching lightly at his skin. She used the opening to further explore his mouth with her tongue, silently begging him for more. 

“Gonna... gonna fuck you so good... make sure everyone knows... knows that you’re mine,” he said between breaths. 

“Yes,” she told him. “Yours... I’m yours... make me feel so good...” 

He groaned at that, her words clearly affecting him as he left his spot on her mouth and allowed himself to lick and suck at the tender spots on her neck instead. At first, she let out a disappointed whine at the loss of contact, but the disappointment quickly turned into pleasure when he bit down harshly on a soft spot right below her ear. 

Slowly, he continued a trail of kisses down her neck, to her chest. Her shirt was in his way and clearly frustrating him.

“Gonna take this off, ok?” he asked, pinching her shirt. 

She nodded and sat up a bit to help him lift the shirt over her arms. He had seen her without it many times now, but he still stopped for a moment to stare and appreciate her body in front of him. 

Mumbling to himself, she barely heard him say, “shit, y’so fucking beautiful... love y’body so much.” He said it quietly, clearly out of pure admiration. 

As she was about to beg him to move, he leaned back down and picked up right where he left off, leaving small, wet kisses to the tops of her breasts. He made his way down a little lower, pulling one of the cups of her bra down and biting down a bit harder just next to her nipple. She whined lightly, but he soothed the area with kisses and then leaned back to admire his work.

He had left a deep, pretty mark, not far from her nipple where it was sure to always be covered. She felt like he was claiming her, and it felt amazing. He continued kissing around the area, hands exploring her body, but he wasn’t moving fast enough. 

“Harry... please do something...” 

“I am doing something,” he teased. 

“Do more.” 

“What do you need, darling? Tell me.” 

She huffed, grip in his hair once again tightening until she heard him hiss against her skin in response to the pain. 

“Touch me,” she breathed. “Need you to touch me.” 

“I am touching you.” 

“No... touch me... here.” 

She took his hand and dragged it down her body to rest above her core. There was a heat swirling in her stomach, stronger than ever before. She could tell she was wet between her thighs and her body had never been more ready for him. 

“Shit, YN,” he groaned. “This mine too?”

She nodded her head.

“No. You gotta say it... say it and I’ll touch you.” 

“It’s yours.” 

“What is?”

“My...my...” in most situations, she hated the word that she knew he was trying to get her to say. But for the first time, she finally understood why it could be so hot because in this moment it was the only word that accurately described not only her body but the way she was feeling. “My pussy is yours.” 

And that’s where Harry just lost it. He moaned at her words, hanging his head between his shoulders for a moment to catch his thoughts and his breath, shaking his head. 

“The things you do to me...” he mumbled beneath his breath. He looked back up at her, “gonna take this off, ok?” he slipped his finger beneath the waistband of her pants. 

She nodded her head, and he got to work stripping her of her pants, then his own top layer of clothing until they were left in their underwear with a blanket draped over them. He kissed around the tops of her breasts before grabbing the other cup of her bra and pulling it down to match the other and expose her to him further. His tongue swirled around her nipple, hand pinching and pulling at the other one. 

“Harry,” she gasped between breaths. “Feels good but... want you... please.”

“I know baby, but you know how big I am. Gotta make sure you’re ready for me,” he told her between kisses. 

“I’m ready I promise I’m-” 

He cut her off with a desperate kiss to her mouth. As she caught her breath, he moved a strand of hair out of her face and behind her ear. 

“Know you feel ready. Just want to make sure. Wanna make my girl feel good, yeah?” 

She nodded her head silently. Hearing him call her his girl did a number on her, and she felt it deep in her tummy. She was his, she had always been his, and she always wanted to be his. 

Harry trailed down her body, leaving a string of kisses in his wake. The moisture from his mouth mixed with the cold night air gave her the chills so she reached for a blanket, but Harry stopped her. 

“Take my sweatshirt, babe,” he whispered. “Wanna fuck you in my clothes.” 

YN was completely surrounded by all things Harry, then. His blankets, his sweatshirt, his mouth. It all smelled like him and she couldn’t keep from taking a big deep breath inside of the hooded jacket. His smell was so nice - had always been comforting but now even more so. She would buy candles of it if she could. 

Harry spread her legs wide, hands on her thighs and thumbs stroking over her skin gently as he looked at her. 

“Look at that...” he mumbled, mostly to himself. “So pretty... look at how wet you are, how swollen that clit is. Is that all for me?” He looked back up at YN, waiting for her to answer. 

She knew now that he needed to hear her words, so in addition to nodding she told him, “yes, all for you.” 

“Because this is my pussy, right?”

“Yes, H. Yours. It’s yours.” 

He couldn’t take it any longer and started working over her center with his mouth and his fingers. 

“Gonna... make you cum... before I fuck you... make you feel good... then make you... mine,” he told her in a low voice between licking and sucking and kissing on her folds. 

She let out an unconscious whimper at that. She knew he would make her feel good - he always did. But something about the way he said it this time made her eyes roll into the back of her head. In desperation, she wanted to respond to him, to hype him up and make him know how wonderful he was making her feel. But she couldn’t get the words out, whines and moans and groans taking their place.

“That’s right... good girl... let it out just like that...'' he encouraged her. “Geez, y’so fuckin’ wet for me.” 

With one hand he stroked her inside walls, driving her crazy, the other sitting firmly on the inside of her thigh to open her back up again every time she tried to close around his head. His hand was a warm and comforting presence on the cold and quiet night, and she let out a gentle sigh. Her sigh was cut off though, and turned into a bit of a squeal as he sucked harder on her clit, curling his fingers inside of her and hitting her best spot. His tongue lapped at her wet folds, hungrily taking everything she would give him. 

It didn’t take long - it never did with Harry. Compared to the other guys she had been with who never made her cum even once, Harry’s ability to do it so quickly and consistently blew her mind. He knew what he was doing before he even touched her, but then he took the time to learn her body too. Harry knew what she liked, what felt the best, what drove her over the edge. He knew which pulls of his hair meant she was feeling good and which meant that he needed to slow down and give her a break. He knew the way her body shuddered when the pressure was building, and he knew the way she tasted after that bubble burst. 

Usually, after she finished, he would kiss back up her body until he reached her mouth and whisper sweet things to her as she came down from her high. But this time, he kept working where he was. He was gentler on her sensitive nub, but his fingers moved faster. He spread her out, opening her up for him and adding in a third finger. YN gasped at that, one hand flying to her own chest and the other finding purchase in Harry’s hair again. 

“H... fuck... s’a lot... feels... a lot,” she told him from above. 

“I know darling,” he comforted her, removing his mouth and leaving careful kisses at the top of her thighs. “But m’cock is gonna be even more. You still want it, right?” 

He was giving her another out, an easy out, and wanted to make sure. They both knew that once you fuck your best friend, there’s no going back. But YN never wanted to go back. It didn’t even feel possible to go back. She just wanted him. And she told him as much. 

“H... make me yours... I want... I wanna be yours.”

Harry sat up on his knees then, one hand with fingers still inside of her and the other getting to work on his own briefs. His cock sprang free, hard as ever and practically leaking from the purple tip. YN’s eyes went straight to it, as they always did. She could never get herself to look away. He looked too pretty. And that pretty thing was about to be inside of her. 

She moaned his name, begging him to hurry up, and he got the message. Removing his fingers from her, he made a show of licking each one. He tapped her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, where he inserted his first two fingers. She closed around him and sucked lightly, tasting herself on his skin. 

“Fuck,” he groaned at the sight. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m waiting for,” she teased back. 

He chuckled before hovering his body over hers and lining up his cock with her center. Slowly he dragged the tip up and down her folds until she let out another little whimper. 

“You want my cock?” he asked her. 

“Yes.” 

“Lemme hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” 

She took a breath. “Want... want your cock, Harry. Want to feel you inside of me. Want-”

He cut her off then as he entered her, entering her slowly and stretching her out. 

She let out little gasps as he went deeper.

“Good girl... know you can take me...” 

She couldn’t help but moan at his words, but her eyes were screwed shut. 

“Look at me, baby. Please...” Harry begged her softly, his words practically a whine. 

Opening her eyes, she gazed up at him like he hung the stars and the moon. But when he pushed in a little further she squeezed her eyes closed again, the feeling tight and the stretch a little tingly.

“S’really big, H.” 

“Relax, baby,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “Gotta relax for me, let me in...” 

She let out a deep breath signally for him to continue until she was completely full of him. Waiting a moment, he gave her time to get used to his size, and he took a moment to get used to the feeling of her around him.

“Fuck baby, ‘slike you were made for me,” he whispered into her ear.

She whined at that, and he took it as a sign to start moving. He started slowly, both of them moaning at the feeling. Dropping his head down to her shoulder, he bit down lightly, causing her to gasp. Her hands came up to his hair and his back again and she held onto him like he was going to float away if she didn’t. 

“Feel so good,” he whispered. “So fuckin’ tight. So...fuck... so good... y’pussy feels like heaven. M’not gonna last very long.” 

“That’s ok, just... just keep going. You’re so big... stretching me... so deep... fuck... Harry, please.” 

She didn’t know what she was begging for, but she knew he would give it to her. And he did, as his hips started snapping against her harder and faster. Her moans and groans and gasps filled the air around them, but neither of them cared since they were far away enough from the rest of the camp. It was just them, under the stars, together. 

“Sound so pretty,” he mumbled between thrusts as she gasped and moaned into the night air. “Best sound in the world... wanna hear that... hear you all the fucking time,” he groaned. 

Harry reached down again then, rubbing her clit with his thumb as his thrusting continued. She accidentally held her breath, only releasing it when his lips met hers in a sloppy kiss. Their lips hardly even touched as they panted into each other's mouths, savoring the feeling and the moment they were having together. 

Her hands frantically searched for something to grab onto on his back, but upon finding nothing she resigned to digging her nails into him lightly. Apparently, that was the right decision, because his movements only sped up more. 

“Tell me how you feel,” he instructed her.

“So good... fuck H you feel... I can’t even...” she let out another gasp as his tip went deeper than ever before, and she felt his smirk against her own lips. 

“Too good for words, hm?”

She nodded her head in agreement. 

They were both trying to hold off for as long as possible, but with the days, weeks, and years of build-up, it was nearly impossible. Both of them knew it was going to be over soon, but neither of them wanted it to end. 

“Fuck... Harry,” she moaned again as he increased the pressure rubbing on her clit. Her body reacted to the change, contracting on his dick and making him see all the stars that were never there. 

“Think you can... can cum again?” he asked her. 

“I don’t... maybe but...” 

“Gonna make my girl cum again,” he stated, sure of himself. 

“Yes, yes I’m yours,” she cried out again, followed by a long whine as the head of his cock brushed against her g-spot. 

He lifted her legs then, her knees bending over his shoulders as he pushed into her again, the new angle giving him deeper access. From higher above her, he could see her breasts wiggling with the movement of her entire body. But she could tell he was looking mostly at the place where they connected, where it was wet and messy and amazing. 

“Mine,” he growled again. 

She nodded her head, unable to make any words come out of her mouth anymore. There was too much happening all at once. The pressure building in her lower stomach, her clit throbbing below Harry’s thumb, her walls being stretched by his length. It was so much, too much. 

“Too much,” she told him.

“Want me to stop?”

“NO!” 

“Then it’s not... not too much,” he concluded, never losing his pace.

“Gonna... soon... almost...” she still couldn’t get her words out, but he was able to decipher her message.

“It’s alright baby,” he whispered. “Cum for me. Want you to cum again for me. Then I’ll cum inside this pretty pussy... my pretty pussy... make you mine. All mine.” 

And she completely lost it at his words. Her back arched up and she pressed up into his warm chest. Her head rolled back as much as it could on the hard surface and her eyes squeezed closed as she felt tears starting to form at the edges of her vision. The feeling was white hot, like a star exploding somewhere in distant space, a mess to experience but beautiful to the viewer. 

So beautiful, in fact, that Harry let his own release go shortly after. He shot ropes and ropes of warm cum, filling her. His hips kept moving, thrusting slower but not giving up, even though he was through. She whimpered at the feeling, both of them fucked raw. When he was too sensitive and just couldn’t take it anymore, his hips eventually stilled. He kissed her neck and shoulder until he could catch his breath but made no move to slip out from inside of her. As they both caught their breaths, YN started rubbing Harry’s back lightly. He hummed at the feeling. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

“You never... you never answered my question?”

“Which question darling?” 

YN tried to think back, her mind still foggy from the two intense orgasms. 

“What do you mean when you say I’m yours?”

There was silence for a moment, their hearts beating in unison but still fast. Most if not all of his weight was on her, and his body was like a furnace keeping her warm. 

“Means I get to do that again.” 

“Will you still be my best friend?”

He laughed at that, before realizing she was serious.

“Of course, sweetheart. Always. Best friend, dream team, girlfriend. They aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Girlfriend?” she asked, a cheerfulness in her voice. 

“Mhmm...if that’s... if you want that?”

“Yes!” she answered quickly. “Want it with you.” 

Harry smiled before kissing her lips lightly. She could see his pupils were still mostly blown out, although it might have been a reaction to the dark night around them illuminated only by the stars above, which they had stopped looking at ages ago. 

“Alright then,” he started. “Looks like we should probably get my girlfriend cleaned up and ready for bed, hm?” 

He made a move to change his position, to pull out of her and do what he had said, but she stopped him with a firm grip.

“Not yet, just... lemme stay like this for a couple more minutes.” 

MASTERLIST | PATREON | USS TAG | WRITING TAG

Deleted Scene - Campout Extra 1: Lemon Over Ice

[ogfangirl]

What if we get married this week?

| A/N: I got this idea after watching the F1 video of the drivers being asked which one would get married in Vegas, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since.

- this story is set a few years ago, around 2020-2021 for reference.

• please let me know if you’d like a part 2!

✨ Daniel Ricciardo x Reader ✨

———————————————————————————

The bustling lights of the Las Vegas strip painted the backdrop to your spontaneous adventure with Daniel. Two days into your vacation, the city that never sleeps had lived up to its reputation, offering a continuous flow of excitement and celebration. As fatigue finally caught up with both of you, an unspoken consensus settled in after a hearty dinner: a quiet night in the hotel.

On this fateful Monday evening, post-room service, and amidst the glow of the TV, you and Daniel lounged on the bed. American reality TV played in the background as you, the first to get ready for bed, watched Daniel draw a bath. In the dimly lit room, you found yourself scrolling through TikTok, stumbling upon a video of a Vegas elopement. Intrigued, you quietly opened Safari, embarking on a journey to understand the ins and outs of these impromptu ceremonies.

Over a year had passed since Daniel’s heartfelt proposal during the challenging times of the pandemic. The absence of wedding plans had invited a barrage of inquiries about the impending nuptials. Responses like “it’s coming along” had become your default, but the truth was, the overwhelming thought of planning a wedding had left you at a standstill. All that truly mattered was the commitment you and Daniel shared.

As you dived into research, a TikTok-induced black hole unfolded, showcasing the seemingly convenient and easy process of Vegas weddings. The pieces seemed to align perfectly: your friends were due to arrive the next day, potentially turning this spontaneous decision into a shared celebration. However, a barrage of questions flooded your mind—how would your family react? Were these weddings even real? What if Daniel didn’t share your excitement?

He was all about spontaneous moments, but maybe this was pushing it. You’ve waited over a year to since the engagement, so why couldn’t you wait another year? So many thoughts flooded your mind. How would your family react? are these weddings even real? What is Daniel doesn’t want to?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Daniel coming out of the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist, “babe, have you seen my shorts?” He questioned as you laid there frozen. He startled you, but not because of his abrupt entrance. Your eyes scanned his body slowly. There were beads of water dripping from his hair down to his toned abs, you couldn’t help but bite your lip. The unintentional show momentarily captivated you, reaffirming your desire to marry him. Next thing you knew his face was an inch from yours, and he sported the biggest smirk. He reached down toward the floor on your side of the bed and picked something up, “found them” he smiled and placed a quick kiss on your lips.

“Must’ve forgot them there when we left for dinner,” he winked at you causing you to snap out of your trance. You watched as Daniel quickly put his shorts on and dropped the towel off back in the bathroom. Your throat felt dry as you went back to brainstorming ideas of how to tell Daniel you wanted to elope. “Can you grab me a water bottle please?” you requested, seizing the opportunity to regain composure. Heart pounding, you contemplated how to bring up the topic of elopement. As Daniel fetched the water, nerves tightened their grip.

With both of you now in bed, an air of quiet contemplation hung between you. “Are you sleepy?” you asked, eyes fixed on the TV. “No, not really,” Daniel replied, wrapping an arm around you. The hushed ambiance created an opening for the unexpected.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Daniel began, adjusting himself to sit up, eyes locked with yours. A chuckle escaped you, familiar with the unpredictability of his inquiries. “I have a crazy idea, but you have to hear me out, okay?” he pleaded, capturing your attention. “Oh jeez,” you chuckled, this could mean anything coming from him. He looked at you with a serious expression as he searches your eyes for any sense of hesitance. He paused for a moment before continuing.

“What if we get married this week?” The words hung in the air, sending shockwaves through your thoughts.

Staring at him in disbelief, you waited for an explanation. “I know you want a nice, big wedding—and so do I. But what if we do, like, a Vegas wedding, you know, like in the movies? Just me and you. I think it’ll be fun,” he rambled, attempting to gauge your reaction. “Okay maybe not,” he back tracked at your lack of communication back to him. “No, no, no,” caught off guard, you kneeled in front of him, revealing your phone screen with the Vegas wedding research. “I was just looking at that,” you exclaimed, excitement bubbling within.

In a moment of synchronicity, you both realized the alignment of your thoughts. “I want to get married in Vegas, let’s get married tomorrow” you jumped up in bed. Laughter and joy filled the room as Daniel, equally exhilarated, pulled you onto him, both of you reveling in the spontaneity of the decision. This happens a lot between you two, where you’ll be thinking the same thing simultaneously. It was one of the reasons why you two worked so well together.

“You’re serious right?” He steadied you with his hands on your biceps. “I’m so serious,” you affirmed, wrapping your arms around his neck. Daniel, still in disbelief, sought reassurance in your eyes before sealing the decision with a kiss. You jumped up and he pulled you onto him as you wrapped his legs around his waist. The biggest rush of happiness and adrenaline came over both of you as you jumped in bed like children. He spun you around with the biggest smile on his face before he stumbled back and steadied himself on the wall. Both of you bursted out laughing before taking a seat back on the bed.

“I can’t believe it,” he was shocked, “we’ve done it again” he laughed at the fact that you guys were thinking the same thing once again. “We always do,” you smiled back at him.

Daniel paused for a second, “wait-“ he spoke up looked at you, “when were you looking that up?” he questioned as he picked up your phone to look at the website once more. “While you had a bath. I saw a TikTok about it and I fell down a rabbit hole,” you explained sheepishly. He looked at you in awe before placing another kiss on your lips, which caught you off guard. “How soon can we do it?” he inquired, the rush of happiness and adrenaline palpable. “I think as early as tomorrow,” you responded, pulling out your phone once more.

“But everyone arrives tomorrow,” Daniel interjected, hesitating before realizing the perfect twist. “How funny would it be if everyone came in and we surprised them with our wedding?” you both chuckled at the prospect. “I don’t know if they expect any less from us, if I’m being honest,” Daniel joked.

“Look it up to see when we can do it” he motioned to the phone in your hand.

You both huddled together, scrolling through the marriage page, searching for the soonest available slot. Daniel suggested a picturesque chapel he had seen during your earlier explorations of the city. The excitement grew as you found an opening for a wedding ceremony the next day. With wide smiles, you booked the slot and exchanged glances, realizing the spontaneity of the decision. The anticipation of surprising your friends with a Vegas wedding added an extra layer of thrill. As you closed the browser, you looked at each other, the reality sinking in that you were about to embark on a spontaneous adventure of a lifetime.

Daniel grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement, “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of planning. You both brainstormed ideas, figuring out the details of your unexpected ceremony. From finding a suitable outfit to deciding on the perfect location in Vegas, the two of you were immersed in the excitement of the impending nuptials.

Part 2?

[joeybsversion]

I miss yous

Joe Burrow x Reader

You and Joe work through a messy break up

“Who Dey!” Ja’Marr stuck out his hand for a high-five from Joe. “What’s wrong, bro?” He asked as Joe blinked his way back to reality.

“Good game, Ja’Marr.” He pulled the cigar from his mouth and gave a weak smile.

“You should be celebrating, Joe. That was a big game. What’s going on?” He asked taking a seat next to Joe.

“Just tired.” He lied. “Like you said, big game.” He pressed the cigar to his lips again.

“You miss her, don’t you?” Ja’Marr questioned. He took no response from Joe as a yes and patted his friends back as he walked off.

Across the city you finishing another drink, making yourself look busy so you didn’t have to watch Joe’s post game interview.

You pulled yourself from the couch and stumbled into the kitchen to pour another drink, your best friend close behind.

It had been 4 months now since you and Joe had broken up. Seeing his face all over TV didn’t make it any easier as they progressed their way through the division. The breakup was messy, Joe was away for a game and neither of you really got any closure. With work and taking care of things at home, you weren’t able to travel as much this season with him. You both had wanted to keep your relationship private but it almost became too private. Not even the two of you knew what was going on some of the time.

“You’ll be fine without him.” Your friend reassured you as she watched you down another drink.

“I know. I’ll probably even be happy.” You lied.

“So what’s the problem?” She asked, taking the now empty plastic cup from your hand and tossing it into the garbage.

You stared at his face on the screen across the room. The rest of our friends are watching his post game interview and celebrating another win. “It would have been easier,” you paused “to have been happy with him here.” You looked down. “I’m going to head home.” You pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber. “I’m tired.” You lied, much like Joe had done to Ja’Marr earlier that evening.

“Meet you at my place?” Tee stopped by Joes locker on his way out. They team always celebrated at Tee’s after the games.

“I’m pretty tired, might just head home. Next weeks a big one and I want to make sure I’m ready to go.” Joe lied, taking another long draw from his cigar.

“Ok man, I understand.” He walked towards the door “but if you change your mind you know where to find me.” He hollered as the door swung shut behind him.

Joe pulled on his hoodie and closed up his locker. “Time to get out of here.” He mumbled to himself, digging through his bag for his phone and keys. “Another night alone.” He sighed.

By the time he left the stadium, the sky was dark and it was starting to rain. As he got home, he dropped his bag at the front door, headed upstairs, and got into bed. You were still on his mind as you had been every day for the past 4 months, he so badly wanted to hear your voice. But you hadn’t reached out even one time since the breakup. He figured you had moved on and were fine without him.

Joe pulled out his phone and clicked through until he found your contact. Everything in his head was telling him not to text you. It was almost 2:30 AM now, you were asleep he thought to himself. But he didn’t care. Without another thought, Joe fired off a text “I miss you.” It read.

The rain was coming down hard now and it was pitch black outside. “I should’ve left a light on.” You mumbled as you climbed out of the Uber and made your way to the front door. “Where is my phone?” You fumbled through your bag trying to find it so you could use it as a flashlight. “There it is.” You heard it buzz and dug it out of the bottom of your bag. As you pulled it out you saw 2 new messages pop up.

yourbffsname: Let me know when you make it home!

Joey: I miss you

“I must be so drunk.” There is no way Joe texted you thought. You flipped your phone around and used the light so you could see to unlock the door.

You made your way to your room, quickly threw on an old sweatshirt Joe had left here and climbed into bed. You plugged in your phone and saw you had 2 new messages.

Joey: Alot

Joey: And I want to see you

You froze. Was this really happening? Was it some sort of prank? He should be celebrating with the guys, right?

Joe put his phone down, took a few deep breathes, and covered his face. He wanted you back so bad. He picked up his phone again, checking for a reply but nothing had come through yet. And then he did the unthinkable, he pressed the call button and placed his phone up to his ear.

“Hey.” He croaked out. “Did I wake you?” He asked.

“Hey…. No, no. I’m up.” You replied.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes waiting for each other to speak.

“How are you?” Joe asked.

“You can’t ask me that.” A tear slipped down your cheek. You tried to stay quiet so he wouldn’t know you were crying. “You can’t ask me how I’m doing…” you paused “after you tore me apart.” You managed to whisper into the phone.

“I’m sorry, baby.” His voice cracked. You thought he may be crying. You couldn’t talk without sobbing, so you sat quiet for a few minutes. “I miss you,” he whispered, “I’ve tried to tell myself I don’t. And I think I mean it too when it’s 4 PM and the crowd is going wild and we’re seconds away from winning another game. But before I know it, it’s 2 AM and I’m in bed staring at the ceiling and there’s a tiny ache in my heart that wishes you were here. I can’t close my eyes because it’s too hard to decide if I’m more scared of your absence or the possibility that I’ll always miss you.” His voice cracked again and you were almost positive he was crying now. “I miss how we use to talk. I miss our calls. I miss going to sleep knowing you were still mine the next day,” there was a long pause, “I’m missing you like shit tonight.” He croaked out. “This just sucks because I still care, I still want to fix things, and I still want you. I still want us. I still need closure.” He sighed. “I need you to say something.”

You sat in silence for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say next. “I miss you, Joey.” You whispered. “I really miss you.” Another tear rolled down your cheek. “We keep on exchanging ‘I miss you’s” you said, “but it’s sad because neither of us did anything to just see each other again.” You finished, referencing how you hadn’t seen each other since before you broke up. “I don’t think I can come to terms with how things ended,” you paused, waiting for him to say something. “You told me you loved me in the morning on your way out to the door,” you used your sweatshirt sleeve to wipe your eyes “and that night when you got to your hotel for the game, you didn’t anymore.” You cried out.

“I never stopped loving you.” He interrupted. “I’m sorry for how things ended….” There was another long pause as you both sat in silence. “I read through our old messages earlier when you use to tell me how much you loved me and I would tell you that you meant everything to me,” he continued, “those words are still true. I want to fix things. I’m sorry for hurting you.” He sniffled.

“I’m sorry too.” You cried.

“Come over, baby.” He said.

“Joey, it’s almost 3 AM. It’s late.” You reminded him.

“Please.” He whispered. “I need to see you.”

“Good night, Joey.” You whispered and ended the call.

You put your phone down, dried your tears, and rolled over. It was best to sleep this off and see how you felt in the morning. You really did miss Joe, but you were nervous to see him.

As you drifted off to sleep you heard knocking on the front door. “What time is it?” You rolled over and pulled out your phone. It was 4:27 AM. You had a message from Joe.

Joey: I can’t wait until tomorrow. I’m coming to see you and make things right.

He couldn’t actually be here you thought. You imagined the noises. It’s way too late and it would be too crazy for him to be here right now. You rolled back over.

Joe couldn’t fall back asleep after your call. The next thing he knew, he was standing outside your front door, knocking a firm sound against it. You opened the door, still half asleep, your face showing a mix of confusion and happiness.

Joe reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you onto the porch with him in the rain. He puts his lips against yours and his hands in your hair. You can feel the uncertainty behind the kiss, but you don’t stop.

When you pull back he looks at you and says “Your favorite way to be kissed is in the rain, you hate the color orange but will always wear it on game day. You love sleeping in on the weekends and vegetables disgust you.” He lets out a big breath before continuing, “You’re still on my mind and I don’t think that’s ever going to change.” With a watchful eye he looks for your reaction.

Your mouth turns up into another smile and you crash your lips together again

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

yippee ki-yay, it’s valentine’s day!

Howdy! This is simple, I promise, and not nearly as scary as you might think, I’m really not trying to stress anyone out, this should just be something fun and easy to get some extra writing practice and bring the fandom writers together. So I’m gonna lay out the rules and explain what’s going on, and then y’all are free to go crazy!

Below, you’ll find a list of 26 prompts relating to Valentine’s Day and other similar topics, so your first order of business is to pick a prompt or two, or three, or five, I’m not your boss, that’s up to you - but just pick a prompt from the list!

Write something. Draw something. Plan something. Just make something. Make something with your chosen prompt, featuring any character, any ship, anything at all you want, just as long as it’s an Outsiders-focused piece.

Once you’re finished with your masterpiece, post it, mention me, @rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me, and tack on the tag #yippee ki yay valentines

And that’s all! Plain and simple, easy peasy, nothing to sweat about. Now for another important piece of information.

This event will run from today (the 13th) until mid-next week on Wednesday (the 21st).

Feel free to do as many or as few as you want!

☆ - corny valentine’s stuffed bear/other animal

♡ - “Hold on. They broke up with you?”

☆ - baking together

♡ - “Wanna be my Valentine?”

☆ - valentine’s chocolate

♡ - “I love you.”

☆ - long distance valentine

♡ - “This holiday’s the worst.”

☆ - being bothered by an ex-lover

♡ - “Did you just…kiss me?”

☆ - secret admirer

♡ - “You didn’t need him/her/them anyway.”

☆ - exchanging love notes

♡ - “Did you wanna dance?”

☆ - cooking dinner for their loved one

♡ - “God, you’re gorgeous.”

☆ - offering a cheesy bouquet of flowers

♡ - “You gonna kiss me or what?”

☆ - being mistaken for a couple

♡ - “It’s not much, but I got you this.”

☆ - love confessions

♡ - “You look good. Got a date?”

☆ - first kiss

♡ - “You- you did all of this? For me?”

☆ - forcing their s/o to watch a sappy movie

♡ - “I could marry you right now.”

[silversatin2105]

Inspired by the response from Grand line dreams Angst ask about severely injured reader

Writer’s comments:

This is a response to the ask answered by the user known as @grandlinedreams, this is my take on a best case scenario, thank you so much for your permission to post

TW: Angst, mentions of medial stuff, potential character death, if I’ve missed anything please let me know and I’ll add them to the list

It had been two weeks and three days since (Y/N) had been severely injured, you had survived the reaper’s scythe that night, its amazing how you did, you were decimated, deep lacerations on your arms and chest, before Law even got to you half a pint of your blood had already been spilled, without hesitation that day Law had carried your dying form to the Polar Tang and emergency surgery had to be performed.

Blood had to be warmed and prepped, bandages had to be removed and the wounds under sutured after Law checked for signs of internal bleeding and any shrapnel that entered the wounds had to be removed and then fish skin was placed upon the wounds before being re-dressed, when the blood was ready it was allowed to flow into your veins as the other arm took in IV fluids, no need for a sedative you were already out of it.

The first night was always the fist challenge you would face, At this moment deaths embrace felt comforting, the natural next step but what about him?

Law had always feared that your devil may care attitude would lead to calamity and so right he was, you fucked up and now the Captain of the Polar Tang had to deal with the very real threat of loosing you, On one rare conversation he would tell you of the brave man whom gave him a second shot at life, to tell you the truth that’s the first time he opened up to you, hearing his story you vowed to do anything for him, become anything for him and right now there was a very real chance that would be a corpse.

No were the thoughts in your mind as you channeled all your energy, all your might, everything into breathing, you were not going to add to the myriad of mental scars to him, NO MORE SUFFERING, breathing in and out you fought, the heart beating in your chest like terrible thunder as in the reality that your coma had sealed you from, you lay heaving concerning law.

“Damn have you developed an infection?” Law asked wiping your brow with a clean cloth, the male grimaced lip bitten as he checked your wounds, a few were red and hot to the touch so he applied IV antibiotics to your course of treatment, the second hurdle in your journey to spit death in the face and draw another waking breath, raw emotion galvanizing your resolve, fight on, live on.

After a few days the antibiotics took effect, the second hurdle back to the land of the living almost cleared, Law was still taking his meals by your bedside, still cautious- On alert, and He left the running of the ship mostly to Beppo after forming a plan of attack for the next moves to make, like before he spoke to you, Asked what was going thought your mind?, No doubt he’s seen some wild occurrences, since his alliances with straw hat, but in truth, seeing you that day on the battlefield, he never dared to hope that you’d draw another waking breath. 

Heck he was so worried that he had taken to shifted bathroom breaks with other members of the crew watching you and this was the norm for two weeks and four days, He must have had too much coffee that morning as he couldn’t wait for cover, he made his apologies to your sleeping form and bolted for the bathroom, as he walked back to the med bay he sighed- I better get another cup of coffee later for tonight..im so fucking tired …when’s the last time I slept, were his thoughts as he walked into the room where you were being kept, his tired and drained eyes gaze out to a surprise.

It was you, sitting up in bed your (insert color) eyes looking at him with a sort of tired look, you had seen better days then again so had he, he looked disheveled, sleep deprived and honestly so fucking done, in that moment no words were spoken, just a quietness as your eyes locked, ten minutes had passed and then it happened, you began to speak.

“I’m so sorry captain, I messed up… their Haki was too strong, I promise it won’t happen again” you told him an apology, one of the things you fought through death for, Law was stunned, the first thing from you after three weeks was an apology.

“Is that it… after three weeks the first words out of your mouth is an apology, We’ve all been worried sick, you damned idiot !” Law went on to say in a harsh tone, cold words masking the internalized concern he daren’t let himself feel, the emotions he stonewalled from his own heart, Law in this moment was as before romantically hidden behind a sheet of Plexiglas.

You looked up at him with shock in your eyes, you expected this but you didn’t expect it to hurt so much, tears welling in your eyes you slid back onto to the bed clutching the blanket to your chest, Law grumbled and sighed laying his hat on the bedside table resting his head by your side, a hand timidly reaching out to yours, within a moment, you felt the roughness of his fingertips upon your hand, the hand of your captain, you froze in response, you go to turn to look at him.

“D-don’t look at me right now. Please…” Law orders as you oblige him to take in the warmth of your hand, the pulse on your wrist, a pulse that those three weeks ago could have been taken from him, could he finally bring himself to hope now that you were once more amongst the living, fifteen minutes past as he assessed you, got his heart ready and then he began to speak.

“Listen up, I am going to say something, take it as you will…the truth is (Y/N) I feel deep kinship for you, since you joined the crew you’ve shown unwavering loyalty, courage in the face of adversity. What I mean to say is…I love you”

Law speaks to you, the world in that moment shattering, your eyes widen as he presses his head close to you back, and you blush as Law finally falls asleep after three weeks of hell.

You go to move and as you do, you feel an arm move carefully around you, light snoozing sounds from the captain of the heart pirates can be heard, and so in that moment you smile lightly and fall asleep again.

“It’s easy to promise someone that you’d die for them but even more difficult to promise that you'd live for someone"

END SCENE

[sarahwroteathing]

Project Amaranth (4)

[Bucky Barnes x Reader]

Word Count: 2268

Summary: Bucky and Sam move you to a new safe house.

Warnings: None

A/N: AH sorry, my loves. I had class tonight and didn't notice that the post didn't go through when it was supposed to. Nice to know that my queue still only works half the time. Reliably unreliable. Anyway! Happy Halloween!

Catch up here!

"How does he already look mad?" Sam sighed as the car cleared the last bend in the long, heavily forested road to Steve's house.

He was waiting on the porch, leaning on the rail with crossed arms and a displeased expression as he watched them approach up the gravel drive.

"His face got stuck that way when he was eight years old. Try not to take it personally," Bucky said mildly, smirking at the snort it elicited from Sam.

"Alright, I'll go talk to him. Let him know what's going on before we spring his new roommate on him"

"He's not going to say no," Bucky said, glancing at you where you sat in the backseat, hands tightly clenched in your lap.

"I know, but we still need to give him a chance to."

Sam put the car in park, pausing for a moment to meet your eyes in the rearview mirror.

"One way or another, we'll figure this out. We've never been good at giving up on people. You okay with me telling Steve everything you've shared with us so far?"

The corner of your mouth tugged down, but you nodded.

"Okay. I assume you two need to talk too. Bucky, I'll text you when we're ready for you. But take all the time you need."

With one last nod that seemed more for his own benefit than for yours or Bucky's, Sam climbed out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition. You watched in silence as he approached Steve, clapping him on the shoulder and drawing him into a brief hug before gesturing him inside. Steve glanced towards the car curiously, but made no show of protest, disappearing into the house and closing the door behind them.

"You didn't warn him," you said quietly. "About me. He doesn't know I'm here or what you're going to ask him to do."

Though your words had a ring of accusation, your voice was flat, emotionless. He knew it well. It never meant anything good.

With a bracing breath, Bucky unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed out of the car, moving quickly to join you in the backseat before you could jump to any dangerous conclusions. You looked a little startled by his sudden closeness, but you tried to hide it, scooting a couple inches away from him while masking it as a change in position. Your shoulder pressed firmly against the door, but you didn't reach for the handle, watching him closely.

"We didn't tell him because we didn't want to risk anyone else finding out. Sam called to tell him we were visiting, and that was enough to let him know something was going on without tipping off anyone who might have been listening."

You pursed your lips, turning your head slightly to scan the surrounding trees while keeping Bucky in your peripheral.

"I thought you said he was your best friend. Do best friends not visit each other?"

Bucky smiled a little.

"I visit. I just never ask."

Your eyes returned to his as you gave a speculative hum.

"And Sam Wilson?"

"Sets up visits at least a week in advance."

"He sounds like a better friend."

"He might be. But Steve's known me too long to give up on me now. He's always happy to see us anyway."

The small smile you'd been sporting slipped a little.

"Not this time."

"He's just worried. He'll get over it. I just want to make sure you're still okay with this plan before we go inside."

"Well, I don't have a better one, so..." You sighed. "Nothing can be worse than where I was before."

"Come on now. The couch wasn't that bad."

Bucky smiled when his comment shocked a laugh out of you. Fleeting and confused, but a laugh nonetheless.

"That's - That's not what I - "

"I know," Bucky said with a shrug. "But it made you smile for a second."

You stared at him, something strange passing through your eyes. He thought you may have been about to speak, but the chirping of his phone had you receding again behind a stoic mask. 

Sam, telling him they were ready. 

“You alright?”

You nodded.

“I trust Steve with my life,” he reminded you quietly. “He’ll always try to do the right thing. He won’t hurt you.”

“What if I hurt him?” 

“Do you want to?”

“No, of course not,” you said quietly, frowning down at your hands.

“Then you won’t,” Bucky said with a shrug. 

“That simple?” you scoffed, but Bucky stayed steady, nodding slowly. 

“This time? Yeah, I think it is.” 

You broke eye contact again to tug restlessly at the neckline of your borrowed sweatshirt. 

“Ready?”

“I guess.” 

Bucky slipped out of the backseat, holding the door open for you as you followed. Neither of you spoke as you approached the front door, the crunch of gravel beneath your boots softening to a nearly silent step on the porch. He couldn’t tell whether it was intentional or instinct.

Sam and Steve were sitting on the couch when the two of you walked in, but Steve stood slowly as you came into view. You held position one step behind Bucky and half a step to the right. 

“Hi,” Steve said with a gentle smile, keeping his hands shoved deep in his pockets to curb the habit of a polite handshake. “I’m Steve.” 

You gave an uneasy nod, face tense and blank like you were unsure how to act or what to say in this situation.

“I know we’ve just met, but I’m really glad you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, head tilting to the side in question as your eyes darted to Bucky and back to Steve again. Steve wasn’t smiling anymore, eyes solemn and projecting that 110% sincerity that only he could pull off. 

“Whatever happened before and whatever Hydra did to you, I hope you know that you didn’t deserve this.”

You blinked hard, faltering a shuffled step backwards. Bucky stepped in smoothly before the overwhelm could shift to panic.

“Does this mean she can stay here with you?” he asked. 

“Of course. As long as she needs.” 

Bucky glanced over to you, and though you still looked slightly dazed you nodded your acceptance. 

“Okay. Her stuff is in the car. Give me a hand with it.”

The sharp clap he landed to Steve’s shoulder left no room for argument, and you lingered uncomfortably in the hall as Steve followed Bucky outside. 

“You’re going to need to ease up a little, pal,” Bucky said softly as they trailed down the porch steps. 

The sun had already set, but full dark had not yet descended. Between the gaps in the trees, the clouds were clinging to the last of their fiery glow. 

“I just wanted her to know where I stand,” Steve said, holding out his hands obligingly as Bucky reached into the backseat for your borrowed duffle bag and the two heavy backpacks from the bunker. 

“I get that, but you can’t treat her the same way you treated me when you found me again. Even when I could barely remember you, I still loved you. Like muscle memory. It made things easier. But if you try to talk to her about her feelings, she might punch you.” 

“Give me a little credit,” Steve said, accepting the duffle and choosing not to comment when Bucky kept a tight hold on both backpacks. “I wasn’t going to start with that.”

“I mean it. Go easy.”

Something shifted in Steve’s eyes at the severe expression Bucky leveled him with. 

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll give her space. I’m not trying to scare her off, Buck.” 

“I know you wouldn’t mean to. But your heart's too big for your own good, and that can be… a lot. For people who aren’t used to it.” 

Steve nodded slowly, a smile starting to creep up the corner of his mouth. 

“What did Sam call it again?”

“Aggressive compassion.” 

“Yep that’s the one,” Steve said with a snort. “I’ll try to tone it down for now. No promises.” 

When they reentered the cabin, Sam had managed to convince you to sit on the couch with him. You still looked uncomfortable, but you seemed to be making a concentrated effort to push through it. 

Bucky surrendered custody of the backpacks to you immediately, and as you started to tuck them between your feet and the couch, Steve spoke up.

“Let me show you where you’ll be staying. So you have somewhere safe to keep those.”

You looked up at him, fingers tensing slightly around the straps before you nodded.

“Okay.”

The guest bedroom Steve led you too was the same room Bucky always stayed in when he visited. He’d probably spent more time here than he had in his own apartment bedroom. It was small but clean, the queen bed in the center was crisply made and covered with a plush green duvet. There was only room for one bedside table, equipped with a small lamp, a candle, and an unopened box of tissues. There were two extra phone chargers in the drawer. 

Steve set your duffle bag down on the foot of the bed.

“It’s not much, but I hope you’ll be comfortable. There’s a fan and an electric blanket in the closet if you get too warm or too cold…” he trailed off, looking around the room for inspiration before shrugging. “If there’s anything you need, just let me know. The bathroom is across the hall, and it’s just for you. I use a different one.” 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. 

“You’re welcome. We’ll give you some space to unpack. Look around.”

You nodded absently, already opening the closet and shoving the two backpacks into the back corner. Steve didn’t comment, leading Bucky back out to the living room in pensive silence.

“Everything good?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Steve said. “How long does she need to stay for? What’s the plan?”

Sam looked pointedly at Bucky who rolled his eyes.

“We’re working on it.” 

“Working on it…” Steve repeated, his face carefully neutral.

“I’ve been focusing on getting her somewhere safe,” Bucky said, crossing his arms defensively. “I haven’t had time to think much farther than that.” 

“Okay…” Steve said quietly, but the slight strain lurking behind the calm facade made Sam snort. 

“I think you’re breaking his brain.”

“He’s done plenty without a plan before,” Bucky argued. 

Steve hummed noncommittally. 

“Having no plan is better than having a bad plan.”

Sam obligingly switched sides, hearing the frustration in Bucky’s voice. This was intensely personal for him. He was terrified of fucking it up.

“Give us a couple weeks. We’ll come by again and figure things out,” Sam said, standing from the couch.

“Okay,” Steve agreed, accepting the handshake-turned-hug Sam offered.

“We should probably go. Let you guys get settled,” Sam said, turning towards Bucky. “You ready?”

Bucky glanced back towards the door of the guest room. 

“I’ll meet you at the car. I wanna…” He gestured vaguely at the hallway, and Sam shot him a significant look.

“This was your idea, you know.”

“I know. I’m not - I just want to check on her before we leave.”

“You told me you’d be cool about this.”

“And I am. But I wanna see where her head’s at.”

Sam sighed. 

“Alright. Five minutes.”

“Or what? You’re gonna leave me here?” Bucky asked skeptically.

“No. But I am gonna talk to you about boundaries and countertransference all the way back home.” 

“Fine. Five minutes,” Bucky said with a grimace, waving Sam towards the front door. 

Steve shot Bucky a curious look that he pretended not to notice before following Sam.

You were sitting on the bed when Bucky entered the room, looking around the small space with the frown of a lost child. You glanced up at the sound of his boots on the old hardwood, but your expression did not change.

“Are you going to be okay here?” he asked, resisting the urge to close the door behind him. Sam and Steve would be outside by now. “You feel comfortable?”

You tilted your head curiously, gave a little shrug.

“I’m fine. Better than the alternatives.”

“So you’ll stay?” he asked carefully. “You’re not going to run?” 

“For now, I will stay,” you confirmed.

Bucky studied you for a moment, the way you always studied him. You sat still, patiently allowing his gaze to linger without comment. You looked sincere, as far as he could tell. Nervous but not quite restless. He had no way of knowing how long your resolve would last, but for the moment it seemed that you at least wanted to stay.

“Could you tell me if that changes? Please?”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. Not anger. Focus. 

“You’re worried,” you said softly, and Bucky took a deep breath.

“Yes.”

“Tell me why?”

He bit his lip absently. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he wasn’t sure how much of the truth to share. How much would make you feel safe. How much would make you run.

“I want to help you, but I’m not sure I’m doing it right,” he said finally.

You sat with that for a moment, never taking your eyes off him. 

“I’m not in chains,” you said. “I’m free to walk away when I want to. That’s what you told me.” 

“Yeah.”

“If you weren’t helping me the right way, I would leave.” 

“That’s… true.”

“It is,” you said insistently, standing to move a little closer to him.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “So… good, for now?”

“Good. For now.”

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

I've been missing this one - what about you? How are ya feeling? What are we thinking?

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @orangespocks @multifandomgirl-us @creideamhgradochas @buckybarneshairpullingkink @rebekahdawkins @xxbuckysbxx

[triplesilverstar]

One year

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: mentioned smut, sharing a bed, retrospective

Word count: 1.9K 

A/N: Well it’s been one year since I started this series. If you told me a year ago when I first posted affirmation while drunk that it would prompt me to still be writing a year later I would have never believed you. So thank you to everyone that has been with me through this journey be it from the beginning or last week, every comment, every kudo, and well honestly every hit on the series has made my day. I still have a long way to go and thankfully the chaos is still brewing in my brain for these silly characters.

Laying there in bed as the low noises of the town rumbled in through the window that was opened a crack, it was the middle of the night and there were still a few souls out roaming around. 

You were passed out for your part. 

Tucked up against Vash who was wide awake watching you on his side. That hadn't been his plan. No his plan of turning in early and enjoying a long night of sensual touches and intercourse followed by falling asleep in each other's embrace. You’d hit three out of the four points. After the two of you had cleaned up the mess you made, you had slipped into slumber almost instantly, and Vash. 

Well, the blond was finding sleep rather elusive. It reminded him of the nights before you had come along when he barely slept, tossing and turning with his nights plagued by memories and nightmares that made him dread the thought of slumber. 

Those memories reminded him of other times as well as his flesh hand glided along your side after brushing a tuff of hair from across your forehead. It's been one year since the events in the crashed spaceship. 

One year since you had learned what he was. 

One year since he had been certain you were going to freak out and leave him.

One year since you told him you loved him. 

He'd never been so happy to be so wrong. 

You'd come into his life like a wild tomas, he never knew if you were going to throw him or sit on him. Chuckling to himself at the memory of waking up hog tied to a Tomas and you scowling down at him telling him to stop squirming so much. The first meeting at Jenoera Rock had been far better, he'd seen the ghost of the smile on your face with the look in your eyes telling him you knew far more than you let on sitting at the bar looking every bit the drifter he now knew you to be. 

You were something else and thoughts of you faded away when he didn't see you after that brief meeting in the bar. Just another wander. 

He thought it would be the end of your meetings after he tied you up and left you in the desert with your Tomas, wondering if you really were truly that bad with directions. Shaking his head at the memory as you shifted in your sleep drawing closer to his body. 

You surprised him the second time. He was used to having to weasel his way out of conflicts in town by talking to a group or just running away. Sure people had gotten the drop on him lots of times in the past, but no one had literally gotten the drop on him. It had been refreshing to have someone to banter with as the two of you had your short tussle even if he couldn't remember the words to save his life. He did remember that he apologized for the way he left you and how it made his throat tight at the time. 

“You really could get lost anywhere couldn't you.” Smiling as he whispered the words thinking of you leading him to the front of the bank instead of the sheriff's office. It had been after that little showdown with other bandits he found you more interesting than he first thought. Laying down on one of the rooftops as you paced around the building looking for him and speaking to anyone that had been nearby asking if they had seen him. While he couldn't see your expressions that well from the distance he could see from the way you moved about the space that you were putting the puzzle of how he escaped together. You were clever. So as you moved on he felt the briefest flicker in his chest as he wondered what your next interaction would be. 

Over the next few months, he found himself growing worried. He hadn't seen or heard anything about you and the concern was gnawing at his gut. What if those bandits had escaped and followed through on the threats they had made against you? Were you buried in some shallow grave in the desert? Left as food for the worms? So he let the local kids bully him into playing with them, not that it took much convincing but he needed the distraction. Something to take his mind off of you because deep down he knew his concern wouldn't make a difference if you were gone. Another person he failed. 

Only for you to land right in his lap during that firefight in the bar with the bandits that wanted that little girl to ransom back to her father on behalf of the dirty sheriff. He didn't know why you were there, just that his heart started thundering in his chest like mad and a blush started burning on his cheeks. Praying to every being he had ever heard of that you wouldn't notice the tightness he was starting to feel in his pants at the close contact. 

As the the two of you talked about the situation he felt those brief flutters of his heartstrings die as you stated how five was better odds than against seven. His assumption about you being just like another bounty hunter rearing itself once more, only to be turned on an axis when you fired back a response about them learning from their mistakes, and for a brief moment he thought he could see Rem behind you. 

You truly were full of surprises as you bantered with him back and forth and he watched the way your eyes crinkled as you thought and came up with a plan both of you could pull off. Vash really had thought thinking back you had him that time, only to see the mistake when you handed him off to your guide. They made the same mistake you had and he used his prosthetic to slip away once more and left you another note.

The gap between seeing you next was a lot smaller, watching you roll into town before he slipped away back into the restaurant. Watching you through the tiniest gap in the panel of that wall between the kitchen and dining area that the family had made for him a long time ago. The comment about his cooking had his stomach doing a funny little dance while he tried to keep his face neutral, even if it hadn't been said to him directly. 

Looking back at those times Vash could see that in hindsight, there was a pull to you that he hadn't wanted to acknowledge. Leaning against his fist as you let out a soft snore when his fingers placed just a bit more pressure along your side. At the time he pretended it was an idle curiosity because of how different you were from other bounty hunters, and as the quick draw competition was quickly revealing itself to be a showdown between the two of you he had wanted to test you. Unaware that part of that test on his part had been to see if you were as clever as you let on, to see if the three days you had been in town had been enough to make you realize the owner of the restaurant needed help and what you would do. 

On the surface, he told himself it was just to see if you were different like he thought, but now looking back he had to wonder if even then he wasn't starting to feel some sort of comrade with you. You were far more than just another bounty hunter and he knew that. 

That night he did remember one thing clear in his mind. It was a lot harder to slip away than it should have been. Well and he needed to stop using the alias John. P. Smith if he wanted to avoid you. Chuckling to himself, that had been a brief interlude before the two of them started traveling as friends. Well, sort of. He was certainly ready to call you a friend while you kept trying to give him the slip with the tables turned. 

Another sweep of his fingers through your hair as Vash stared at your sleeping face, he'd thought he’d almost lost you three times now. Two of them were far more serious and both had resulted in him taking you to see a doctor, one against your wishes and the other while you were unconscious. He understood your reasons for your dislike now and respected to it an extent. He would never tell you he was willing to face all the ire you could throw at him if it meant keeping you alive. 

The ghost of his feelings that first time he almost lost you still made him sweat. It had surprised him. Taken him fully unaware when you disappeared from his sight in that decrepit building as parts began to fall away from the explosion that had rocked it down to its foundations. 

A blind panic. 

He should have taken the chance to run, but like so many times before his body moved before he knew what he was doing. His boots thundered over the unstable space and slid on his stomach to the gap above where he had last seen you. The way his heart was hammering he could feel his blood pumping through his vein with elation as his metal hand wrapped around your wrist. Seeing the strain on your face as you had tried to hold on with just the strength of your fingers. 

It struck him then. He wanted to know you as more than the bounty hunter who was after him, he wanted to get to know the person under the gruff exterior that was the closest anyone had come in years to catching him. 

Looking back he knew that was the moment when those first few flickers of affectioned started to smolder in his chest. An affection that grew with time that he didn’t regret. 

A groan from you as you crack one of your eyes open when his hand brushes too close to your ear. “Vash?” Your voice is heavy with slumber as you peer up at him as if confused. “Why are you up?” 

“Couldn’t sleep.” Truth ringing in the air before he smirked. “Too lost in the gem that came into my life, Mayfly.” 

“I’m gonna hit you for that cheesy line later Sunshine.” Adjusting your body so you could run your hand along the edge of his chest. “Any reason you can’t sleep?”

Smiling down at you as Vash hears the concern lacing your voice for him, probably worried he was having nightmares again. “Just thinking of what’s important. Like how we’ve been together for a year.” 

A slow blink as he watched a gentle smile grow on your face before your palm rested against his cheek. “A full year? Feels like yesterday when I told you I thought I loved you. I guess it’s true what they say.” 

“Oh?” 

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” A yawn from you before curling more into his body. “And you are oh so fun my Sunshine.” 

Blushing a shade to match his coat it’s his turn to groan. “You’re ridiculous Mayfly. Good thing I love ridiculous.” Vash doesn’t fall asleep as quickly as you do again, but he does eventually follow you off to dreamland. 

Back to Masterlist for the series

[sunlightmurdock]

Ceasefire | 0.9 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

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Synopsis: Bradley Bradshaw is in San Diego, summoned to Top Gun for the first time. Commander “Hyde” Simpson is his flight instructor, and she doesn’t have time for schoolboy crushes.

Warnings: ex-husband!beausimpson, divorce, age gap (rooster is somewhere between 26-28, reader is 38), power imbalance between instructor and student aviator, swearing, angst

…

Spotting him across the floor of a Navy gala, handsome and all-American, chiselled and stoic — convincing him to fuck you in the back of his sensible but stylish Cadillac that same night. You have always been too wild for Beau Simpson. His mother had tried to warn him about this; about you.

Maybe you were too much, maybe he was never enough — just doomed from the start, that’s all you know for sure. Making yourself smaller for him, making yourself tidier, calmer, you’re done with every single compromise that you’ve ever made for that bastard of a man.

Truthfully, Beau wasn’t that bad. If he had just listened earlier, or if he had just listened at all, you wouldn’t be half as furious as you are this morning. You’ve been psyching yourself up all weekend and there is no stopping you now. Days until Rooster graduates and he’s out of your class, a couple of weeks before his next posting.

Enough time wasted. Beau winds the hands on his watch, barely listening to Bernie listing off his plans for the end of his first week as a newlywed.

Your boots clatter loudly, thudding with each step along the hallway. You don’t bother knocking, you’ve spent enough time waiting for Beau’s permission. Armed with gossip that is more than enough to save your ass, you just about stop yourself from kicking the door open — opting for the handle instead.

The door swings open and slams into the wall, Bernie tenses and droplets of his lukewarm coffee spill onto his khakis.

Cocky as ever, your soon to be ex-husband smiles coyly from behind his grand looking desk, morning sun spilling through the blinds and illuminating the frosty blue of his eyes. “I don’t believe that we have a meeting scheduled, Lieu—“

“Cut the shit, you son of a bitch,” You interrupt him, eyes alight with fire as you carry forwards into the office swiftly enough to make Hondo stumble back and out of your way. You slam the papers down onto his desk, eyes wide, nostrils flared. He hasn’t seen you this fired up about something since he pulled the head off of Dylan’s doll and handed him a baseball. That was a big fight. Beau glances downwards, but he already knows what the papers are. “Sign.”

Beau squares his shoulders and narrows his ice-cold eyes at you, sitting back in his chair calmly.

Hondo swallows and smooths out his uniform, still tripping over his feet as he struggles towards the door. “I’m going to give you two some space.”

The door closes behind him and Beau raises his eyebrows expectantly at you, “Without my lawyer present?”

“Have whatever you fucking want, the savings, the assets — I refuse to spend another fucking second on this Earth as your wife.” You bite back, grabbing one of his dumb, expensive pens from the holder and slamming it down on the paper.

Beau scoffs and shakes his head, “What’s with the hysterics? — Is this about the wedd—“

“Yeah, it’s about the wedding.” You lean forwards and rest your palms on the desk, squinting your eyes at him seriously. Beau glances down at the picture of Taylor on his desk, silently terrified of the day that she looks at him as defiantly as you do. “It’s about you not keeping your damn hands to yourself.”

He rolls his eyes and leans back folding his arms over his chest, “I kissed my wife — sue me.”

Your pupils blow wide open. You lean in closer to him, the smell of his morning coffee filling your nostrils. The thought crosses your mind to just pour it in his lap. No, you've got something that will hurt more than that.

“Your wife,” You draw the word out, glaring ahead at him, venomous, “Went home on Saturday night and had mind blowing sex while you sat on your fucking own. Thanks for the parting gift, Beau. Now, fucking sign.”

He stares at you. Gaze hardened, used to people quivering and keeling over at his whim. Not you. You’ve never been that way.

He laughs and grabs his coffee cup from the desk, purely because it’s too early to be drinking scotch. Though, having this conversation this early on a Monday morning is having him rethinking things. “Sign so that you can go and be a whore? — Yeah, I’ll have to think on that one, baby.”

Whore. It’s practically worth reminiscing. The first word his mother ever said to you. Fitting, that he spits it back in your face now. He looks like her when he’s cold like this.

You don’t falter in the slightest bit, khakis fitting snugly around your curves as you lean further forward. “He graduates next week, and I’m introducing him to the kids. I’m serious about him.”

“Great, you’re fucking a high schooler.” Beau scoffed as he sets the mug back down.

You give him a second. That’s all it takes. Cyclone’s a lot of things, but he isn’t dumb. His face changes. Now it’s his turn. Pupils blown, nostrils flared, enraged.

“He’s — I thought that you were fucking kidding! One of your students? — Jesus Christ, Hyde!”

You glare at him, banging your hand against his desk, “Keep your voice down.”

“Keep my voice down? — I’m going to make sure everyone who has ever thought you were worthy of a promotion finds out about this!” Beau shoves the desk and stands up sharply, jutting forwards like he’s going to tackle you.

“You say a damn word, and I’ll tell everyone about that fucking twenty year old that you fucked in our bed!”

Bernie. Beau stares at you blankly. Bernie, loose-lipped at the best of times and busy spilling secrets to Hangman for most of the reception on Saturday. Beau — who had been drunk out of his mind, and who had spilled his secret about the sharp-witted, young bartender who he had taken home the week before.

You watch your ex-husband scramble for leverage in his own mind; he’s already certain that his indiscretion is not half as bad as yours — you’ll still be in a much worse situation than he will.

Your lips quirk. “Did she tell you that she’s in flight school by the way? — That makes you her superior, huh?”

Studying a man for years leaves you with certain skills. The oh-so familiar ‘oh shit’ look has become one of your favourites. It suits him to look so dumbfounded.

You pick up the pen again and hand it towards him. “Sign — or you fuck us both over.”

His brows knit together just slightly. His head moves like he’s trying to shake it, just slightly. He takes the pen from your hand numbly as he searches your face. Looking for any semblance of the woman he loved.

“What did I do for you to hate me so much?”

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes. You stop yourself from leaping across the desk and shaking him, smacking him — cursing his name, because he still doesn’t fucking see it. He still has no idea.

He watched you slowly stop loving him every single day for years and did nothing to stop it. He reacted with fury and cruelty. Even now, he wakes up every morning with the intention to hold you back. A hot poker to your throat, there isn’t a single word that you can manage to say to him.

You exhale slowly and shake your head.

“I don’t hate you.” It’s the truth, you’re not sure that you ever could — even if he’s trying his best to make that happen. You stare at the floor, nudging the toe of your boot against a chip in the wood. “I hate that you made this such a mess, when it could’ve been over months ago. But I don’t hate you.”

It’s more of an answer than he probably deserves, he knows that. He holds onto his breath, turning his chin downward as he scrawls his signature on the dotted line, turns the page and does the same again. He knows where the pen needs to go — he’s been staring at these forms for once and waiting for you to change your mind.

Setting the pen down against his desk, he pushes the document back towards you.

“Who is he?”

“Don’t, Beau.” You sigh, picking the paper up from his desk and turning away. You open his office door and close it with more civility than he deserves.

It’s a hard time to get divorced — 8am on a Monday morning. It weighs on his mind through his morning briefings, the starts of his weekly catch-ups. The thought of you, down there in the classroom with those animals drooling over you. He taps his foot under the table as some two-star admiral drones on about unmanned planes.

“So, is Hyde as mean in bed as she is in the sky?” Javy grins, torso twisted to look back at Jake and Rooster’s desks behind him. There’s a movie playing on a projector in front of them about stealth maneuvers, but every time Javy looks forwards, all that he can think about is you moaning Rooster’s name this weekend.

Jake grins, leaning across towards Rooster, “Has she ever made you cry, Bradshaw?”

Rooster’s lips quirk, tugging at an amused smirk as he kicks back in his seat, “Shut the fuck up.”

“Does she make you call her Commander?” Javy grins, spurred on, his entire face consumed by the smile as he tries to stop himself from laughing.

Jake snorts at the idea, twirling his pen between his fingers, “So, you guys ever fuck on base?”

Rooster has been trying to look ahead and keep his mouth shut, and ignore their comments as much as he can, but they’re still his best friends — and he can’t pretend he isn’t proud of himself.

He leans just slightly towards Jake and lowers his voice, “She sucked my dick in the supply closet near pre-flight once.”

“No, she fucking didn’t!” Coyote whispers excitedly. Rooster swings his foot forwards and kicks the back of his chair, glaring at him. The three of them glance sheepishly back towards the front.

“So, Hyde sucks dick?” Jake whispers, deep in thought at the idea. “I woulda thought she was too mean for all that.”

Rooster’s lips quirk softly. He gives a gentle shake of his head and turns his attention back towards the screen. “She’s not mean.”

“Not to you.” Coyote replies with a small chuckle. Rooster smirks, then nods.

“No wonder after what we heard on Saturday. Oh, Rooster, fuck, I’m gonna—“ Jake stops abruptly as Phoenix turns around, bewildered. He gives her a small nod of acknowledgment. She glances between the three of them and then shakes her head, turning back towards the front.

Rooster bites his cheek and Jake and Javy snicker around him. He knows that he makes you feel good, and he’s proud of that. Jake and Javy can tease all they want. Rooster hopes they find someone like you someday.

“She does have nice tits.”

“Watch it.” Rooster bites. Jake’s lips quirk as he turns his attention back to the screen. He knew that he was going to get that reaction, he just wanted to see how far he could push Rooster.

As the video finishes, you dismiss the aviators to pre-flight and sit back in the office chair. Sitting at the back of the class, Jake and Rooster are the last to leave. Jake’s grinning at you as he walks towards the door.

“Cut it out, Hangman.”

He turns and winks back at you, “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret, Teach.”

Turning, he finds Cyclone standing a few feet down the hallway. He’s out of your line of sight but he’s staring straight at Jake.

Jake remembers being back home in Texas, young and stupid with nothing better to do than hop into the bull’s pen and race to see if he could jump out before he was impaled. He has looked a pissed off bull in the eyes many times, and he recognises that look on Cyclone’s face.

“Seresin.”

Jake leans his head back and groans, knowing that he shouldn’t find this as funny as he does. He raises his hands in defence and starts to walk backwards.

“Alright, Sir—“

…

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