Word Count: 1,166 Reader Gender: I used female pronouns, but you can substitute. Warnings: Cussing, torture, blood, fluff Love interest: Damon Note: I got this idea while rewatching Season 1 of TVD
I screamed out as they shoved a knife through my arm, the blade stuck in the wood of the chair. They were ‘questioning’ me on how to get something that Damon had in his possession, and naturally I told them to go fuck themselves. Unfortunately for me, they didn’t like that answer. I didn’t even know these guys, and not being able to place a name with a face was really irritating me. They pulled the knife out before pouring alcohol into the wound.
“WHERE IS IT?!” The woman yelled out.
“Right on the corner of Piss Off and Go Fuck Yourself!” I yelled back.
“I said,” The knife was shoved into my stomach, “Where is it?” The woman questioned again.
“Well, I can tell you this much,” I gasped, “It’s not in there.”
The knife was shoved a little farther up before she asked the same question, and the wound was growing larger and larger by the moment. My head was spinning, probably from the blood loss, and my breathing was ragged. I didn’t know how old the two vampires torturing me were, but they couldn’t have been that old. The lacked the vibe and disposition of a vampire who had experience under their belt.
The blade was now under the middle of my rib cage, and blood was pouring from my mouth. The man smiled, walking up to me and catching some of the blood on his finger. The popped his now bloody finger into his mouth, looking quite pleased with himself. I lifted my head up enough to spit a mouth full of blood in his face. I suppose he didn’t like that, ‘cause next thing I know I have a fist in my face.
“Little bitch.” He spat.
“Only on Sundays.” I winked, earning another fist.
“Why won’t you just tell us!” He yelled, now angry.
“Get back to me when you can punch just a little harder.” I laughed, leaning back onto the chair.
“What was that?” The woman asked, perking her head up.
“Someone’s here.” The man concluded.
“You’re a genius.” I mocked, my head resting behind the chair.
The blood was building up in my mouth, almost making me choke, so I returned my head to the previous position. My chin rested against my chest as the blood poured freely out of my mouth. I heard the door get splintered, and I assumed it to be him. I chuckled for a moment, knowing that the both of them will be dead in less than a minute. I would’ve done it myself if I wasn’t, you know, a human and all.
“Wait, wait, wait-” The woman began.
“You hurt Y/n,” Damon paused, “Big mistake.”
“Damon?” I weakly questioned.
“Y/n, holy crap.” He said in a surprised tone, taking the ties off of my hands and legs, “What did they do to you?”
“What didn’t they do to me.” I questioned jokingly, Damon catching my body.
“Oh my God.” He whispered, seeing my wounds, “I-I can fix this.” His voice broke.
“Damon?” I heard his brother call, “Dam-Jesus Christ.”
“Stefan?” Elena asked, “Stefan what’s wrong?” Stefan took her to the side.
I looked over at Damon, blood on my lips as he slowly set me onto his lap. He bit into his wrist, tears in his eyes. He held his wound over my mouth, his face contorting as he tried not to cry. I brought my mouth up as far as I could, drinking from the punctured vein. After a moment I brought my head back down, unable to keep it up any longer. His hand moved to cup my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
I was in a tremendous amount of pain right now, and I don’t know if he was able to get to me in time. I put my hand on his gently, my brows furrowing in pain. I felt myself begin to heal, but I was also still bleeding out. My vision began to blur as I tried to sit up, Damon helping me. I leaned onto his chest slightly as I fully sat up, and he put my arm around his neck. I put a hand over my stomach as another wave of pain set in.
“Damon, we need to get her to the house,” Stefan said firmly, “Now.”
“I know, I know,” Damon’s voice broke, “I’ll, uh, I’ll meet you there.”
“Stefan, is she going to be okay?” I heard Elena ask before I was flashed to the house.
Damon set me down on the floor near the fire, which was great for me because I had begun to feel cold. I turned on my side and curled into a ball, shaking lightly. Damon put a small blanket over me and I held it tightly to myself, hoping that it’d be over quickly. I felt him sit by me and I slowly put my head gently into his lap. He provided a sense of comfort to me, like everything was going to be okay.
Damon sat near the fire with Y/n in his lap, and he gently played with her hair. Y/n had really scared him today, and for a minute there he was sure he had lost you. He was still worried, and even though your breathing had returned to normal, he was still worried that you wouldn’t wake up. There was still that negative spot in his mind that told him that everything wasn’t going to be okay. He refused to let you go, and he refused to lose you.
He heard Stefan and Elena enter the house, but his attention was still on the sleeping figure on his lap. He felt terrible, he blamed himself for letting it happen. He blamed himself for causing it. He didn’t even know, or remember, the two vampires that captured you, but he still felt awful. Stefan and Elena entered the room, but Stefan asked Elena to give the two of the a moment. After she left, Stefan slowly made his way over to his brother.
“She’s gonna be alright.” Stefan said, hands in his pockets.
“No, she’s not,” Damon paused sadly, “Not if she’s around me.”
“Damon, what happened today wasn’t your fault-” Stefan began firmly.
“She almost died today, Stefan, solely because of me.” Damon countered stubbornly.
“Damon, they would’ve just tried to kill someone else instead.” Stefan reasoned.
“Yeah, but I don’t care about someone else, I care about her.” Damon said, looking back at you.
“If she didn’t want to get hurt, or if she didn’t want to die, she would’ve just told them what they wanted to know.” Stefan said.
“I just-” Damon began and Stefan sighed.
“Let me tell you a little secret, I don’t think she cares.” Stefan spoke truthfully, and Damon remained silent, “Just be glad she’s alive, and don’t push her away because I can guarantee that she’s not going anywhere.”
“He’s a great big bear, he is. Can’t see anyone courting that oaf,” you hear as you walk through Erebor’s market.
You needed a few more ingredients to bake biscuits for Dwalin. He’s been a horrid mood lately and you knew that your baking would cheer him up. While on this trip, you finally figured out what brought him down.
Dwalin was the scariest dwarf you have ever met and you thought he hated you. You were a hobbit lass going on a dangerous quest with only men; he thought you to be the weakest link. A grave mistake that Thorin made, but he was proven wrong when you saved him from being stabbed in the back. It was then that you realized that he didn’t want you coming on the quest not because he thought you weak, but because he loved you and that made all the difference in the world.
You follow the gossiping dwarves eye line and you see both Thorin and Dwalin walking together and that makes your heart clench.
He told you, once, about his insecurities. About how he thought himself to be too ugly to even be looked at twice by any woman of any species (a/n: which is completely false because dwalin is hot af) and you assured him that he looked ten times hotter than any dwarf, hobbit, man and elf that you had ever met. That had lead to a very pleasurable night in the sheets that had you sore for a few days.
“You should probably shit your trap about him,” you say, casually looking through their stand.
“And why should we, Lady Hobbit?” The dwarf asks with a sneer. Without a moment’s hesitation, you quickly pull the knife out from your boot and throw it directly at the merchant, catching his collar and embedding the knife into the stone behind. That trick came from Fili.
“Because, Master Dwarf, I will have my next knife embedded into your skull. Dwalin is a wonderful dwarf and is far better looking then you could ever be,” you growl out and you hear a throat being cleared behind you and you know it’s Thorin as their eyes widen.
“Is there something wrong here?” Thorin asks making you turn towards him with a grin.
“Nothing, my king. Just telling these dwarves how cuddly my teddy bear is,” you say, pressing your front into Dwalin’s side.
That causes Dwalin to groan and Thorin to smirk.
“Ah yes. He’s such a cutie pie, isn’t he?” Thorin asks, pinching Dwalin’s cheek. Dwalin swats his hand away with a growl, but pulls you into a one-armed hug nonetheless. He liked being your teddy bear, but Thorin didn’t need to know that.
Context: We’re playing a RWBY campaign, which each player has some sort of super power called Semblance. My character’s is to liberate heat from her body, while other players have things like teleportation, regeneration, and of course, shrinking/making things bigger. Our mission was to infiltrate a hidden base and record the revolution planning that was about to happen against this one facility with drones and robots. My character couldn’t be seen by the two villains because they would instantly recognize her.
Me (Team’s leader): Ok, so we’re going with this very risky plan: Two of you are going to infiltrate the base disguised as facility workers, record the thing, and try not to get caught by the villains who have defense-penetrating guns that can literally kill you in one shot. They’re also specialists at collecting information, so there’s a chance you might get caught right away. Me and another member with teleportation will stay nearby to help with your escape. Got it?
Everyone else: Yeah…
Then everyone prepared for the plan, while very concerned about being recognized, screwing the record or being shot to death. Then the player with the shrinking power had a simple idea
Player: Why don’t we just shrink a drone and send it to record like a mosquito? This way nobody would get hurt haha
Everyone, including the DM: …….
DM: You just ruined both my bosses and my campaign. Again.
We recorded the secret revolution planning and spread it to everyone. We saved the facility without the villains even seeing our faces.
It’s the first thing Y/n wakes up to, Savannah’s outraged voice echoing along the walls of Y/n’s bedroom.
Y/n groans, squinting her eyes open at the sudden movement of her bed shaking wildly.
Savannah’s pulling the stranger out of Y/n’s bed, her merciless hands continuously pushing him out the bedroom door. He’s half awake, his slumberous daze making him scramble as he attempts to throw his clothes back on.
“Fuckin’ Jesus” the unknown man grumbles, his eyes still half closed from the immense amount of alcohol he consumed the previous night.
Savannah remains relentless, despite his attempt to get fully dressed. He even falls at one point, when he hops on one foot to get his leg through his jeans, but she doesn’t stop for a second.
“You, get out of here!” she demands, her hand giving him one last shove out the door before she slams it shut.
Y/n groans again, her sensitivity to anything other than complete darkness and silence making her throw the duvets over her head and bury her face in her pillow. She’s well aware that she has to embrace the very few seconds she has of total peace and quiet before Savannah begins to lecture her for the irresponsibility she just walked into.
She’s only able to reunite with darkness for a split second before Savannah pulls the covers completely off of her, bringing her back into the horrifying sunlight.
Y/n falls off the bed, letting out a groan as her still slightly intoxicated body makes contact with the wooden floor. Her hungover state is making it nearly impossible to figure out the chaos unraveling in the room; all she can really understand is the pounding in her head and the burning in her eyes every time she exposes them from their lids.
She rolls over onto her back, huffing as her fingers dig into her eyelids. She coughs, her abrupt movements making her stomach flip with every turn she makes. She’s given no time to recover before Savannah rips her arms away from her face, gripping onto her wrists as she pulls Y/n off of the floor.
“What the fuck is going on here, Y/n?!” Savannah yells, eyes glaring at Y/n’s very, very hungover stance.
Y/n nearly trips over her own two feet as she attempts to balance herself after Savannah harshly pulled her up from her collapsed figure. If she had the capability to answer back, she would have, but she’s still fucked up from last night and can barely stomach the sunlight seeping in from the curtains.
“Is this what you’ve been up to?!” Savannah spits, angry laughter tying into her words, “Is this the kind of shit you’ve been doing while cutting everyone off?! Sleeping with random guys?!”
The last thing Savannah expected to see was Y/n in bed with a half-naked man and empty bottles of alcohol scattered across her bedroom floor. It was extremely rare for Y/n to carelessly consume alcohol and have consistent one night stands. Savannah’s witnessed her go through these phases only a handful of times throughout their friendship, all of which stemmed from Y/n’s toxic intolerance of being alone.
She should have seen this coming, though. After finding out she’s been in a relationship with someone Y/n was in love with, the first thing she should have done was check up on her. But there was so much fear holding her back, so much guilt preventing her from confronting her about it.
She wouldn’t know exactly what to say, or how to say it, without making it sound like she was the shittiest friend in the world. She had a feeling Y/n had feelings for Harry, considering she had mentioned him a plethora of times once she met him.
And Savannah still took it upon herself to date Harry, for her own selfish reasons. She never thought that it was the potential reason Y/n was so distant. That thought was the last one in the back of her head, completely throwing her off guard when she found out.
She’s tried to reach out to her multiple times, only to be deliberately ignored and shut down. After a while, she figured all Y/n wanted was space, so she stopped trying for a couple days.
But nothing stopped Harry. He’d spend hours knocking on her front door, on his knees, begging for her to speak to him. He’d call her when he wasn’t near her, because he had driven himself crazy knowing he never told Y/n what he needed to tell her so urgently.
Y/n knew—she knew just how much effort he was putting into seeing her again. She heard him, every day, through her front door, but she never knew what to do. The constant fear that Harry didn’t feel the same way back was all the convincing she needed to never speak to him again.
There’s only so much her heart could break, and she didn’t know how many more times it could before she finally snapped.
Y/n grips her head as she squints her eyes shut, hissing at the throbbing in her head when Savannah’s voice booms throughout the room. The overwhelming migraine taking over Y/n’s head practically forces her to sit on the edge of her bed, the palm of her hands still digging into her eyes.
“Not cutting anyone off,” Y/n mumbles, grumbling when she opens her eyes properly to look at Savannah, “I’m just adjusting.”
It isn’t a lie. Her intention wasn’t to ignore them, not at all. But as time went on, the more her emotions started becoming fragile; one wrong sight would have made her break.
And as stupid as it sounds, having sex was the only time she felt wanted after Harry and Savannah started dating. Even if it was in a drunken state, even if it was just purely for physical pleasure, the hours spent with random men were the only moments she felt purpose.
It was also her biggest distraction. Having one night stands was her emotional outlet, her way of letting out all of her emotions without actually doing so. It sure as hell was better than being alone—anything was.
Savannah sighs, shaking her head softly as she kneels eye level to her. She’d never seen her like this before, so lost and broken. She would have lectured her further if she wanted to because she had every right to smack some sense into her. But after all this time, after all the pain she could only imagine Y/n going through, could she really do that to her? Could she really blame her for doing this to herself?
“Y/n,” she rubs her legs, “I have been the shittiest, most horrible friend to you. I was so selfish and so inconsiderate, and I don’t blame you for not speaking to me these past couple days. But, Y/n, this—” her hands gesture around the horrendous state of her bedroom, “this isn’t adjusting. Having drunk sex isn’t going to rid your feelings for Harry. You’re suppressing your emotions, you’re running away. That’s what you’re doing.”
Y/n’s lips begin to quiver as her eyes well with tears; the first time she’s truly cried since the night she saw Harry at Lexi’s. Savannah feels somewhat relieved when she sees the tears falling from Y/n’s eyes. It isn’t a familiar sight to see, but it shows her that she’s actually accepting what she’s been hiding all along.
“You have to talk to me. I don’t care if you yell at me, Y/n. I don’t care what you do to me, but you have to talk to me. You have to show me something. I can’t be hearing about your feelings from Harry, that’s not fair for anyone.”
“What was I supposed to say?” Y/n whispers, her words breaking beneath cries she so desperately wishes she could stop.
But there’s no going back now. The alcohol is still running in her system and she’s reacting instinctively. There is nothing holding her back, not now.
“How was I supposed to tell him that I was in love with him when I knew he didn’t feel the same way? And how was I supposed to tell you anything about him when I knew this would end up happening anyways?! And what was I supposed to say to the both of you when you both decided to take it upon yourselves to flirt in front of me?!”
By now, Y/n’s blood is starting to boil. The words coming out of her mouth are laced with venom, her sudden shift in mood making Savannah swallow thickly. But everything in her is operating a million miles an hour, her words coming out faster than her brain can register. She doesn’t even remember standing up from the bed while she paces around her bedroom, empty bottles rolling around the wooden floor.
“Because no matter what I would have done, it would have ended the same! The way it always does, Savannah! The way it always ends with you getting what I want, even if I want it more—“
“Even if I need it! You still get it!”
The harshness in her voice is replaced by violent cries, her words drowned in uncontrollable sobs.
The pain is all over. Everything she’s attempted to numb is now all hitting her at once. All the loneliness, all the anger, all the hurt she’s been burying is now reaching the surface. She can barely breathe, all of the emotions suffocating her, squeezing against her throat.
Savannah is quick to embrace her shaken body, shushing her as her hands rub up and down her back.
A part of her always knew she was the reason Y/n’s love life was barely existent. Although Y/n never admitted it, she drops hints at it every so often. She did notice how all of Y/n’s high school crushes ended up liking her instead, and did notice how whenever Y/n tried to date, she would barely mention them to her. It was as if she was hiding them from her, completely intimidated that Savannah would take away her only chance at a relationship.
And Savannah can’t shake the horrible feeling she has when Y/n admits all of it to her.
Y/n buries her face in her shoulder, her tears soaking through her t-shirt. She wishes she could hold a grudge against Savannah, but she doesn’t have the heart to blame her for anything that’s happened. Everything is because of Y/n, everything happening is because of her fear of emotions and every bit of her has no one else to blame.
“I need him.” Y/n sobs into her shoulder, her hands tugging at the ends of her shirt for some sort of release.
“I need him so much. And I hate it—I hate that I do so m—much.”
“Oh, Y/n.” Savannah kisses her temple, holding her higher against her.
She knows how much Y/n needs him, and knows now more than ever. She was her happiest when she first met him, she was almost an entirely different person. But now, after everything that’s happened, Savannah has never seen her more of a wreck than she is in this moment.
“Let’s sit you down, you need to breathe.”
Y/n whimpers as she’s placed back on the bed, Savannah reminding her to breathe every couple of seconds. She looks at Y/n with sadness in her eyes, comforting her whenever she needs it most.
“He needs you, too, you know.” Savannah sighs, shaking her head as she takes Y/n’s fidgeting hands into hers.
“I never noticed it until you distanced yourself from us. He didn’t open up to me the way he should have, never talked to me the way he had with you. When I asked him about it—asked him why he wasn’t communicating with me properly, he always mentioned you.”
Y/n flutters her eyes shut, pursing her lips with the slight possibility that Harry may actually feel the same way towards her. There was always a part of her that fully believed the only reason he’s tried so hard to reach her was because he felt guilty for hurting her so much.
But knowing that there’s a chance in Harry reciprocating feelings gives Y/n an overwhelming sensation she’s ever experienced before. It’s the first time in a while there’s a particular type of warmth in her chest, and she swears she begins to tear up from the bit of happiness she’s been missing.
“He would tell me that you were the only one he truly felt comfortable around. Even confessed you were the only one he’d ever be able to talk to, even if we were in a relationship. He was going absolutely mental.”
Savannah sweeps the pad of her thumb under Y/n’s eye, catching the few extra tears that are overflowing. She smiles weakly at her in reassurance, raking her knotted hair between her fingers.
“No matter how much he claimed to like me, he loved you. He’ll always love you. And even when he was completely oblivious, I know now that, deep down, he was always yours. He was never really mine, no matter how much we all thought differently.”
Y/n nods slowly, a small smile tugging at her lips when she hears Savannah’s words. It’s the first sense of hope she’s felt in a while, and it almost completely rids the pain. Almost.
“I’m sorry for ruining your relationship, though. I kind of feel like this is all my fault.”
Savannah laughs softly, finding it almost completely unbelievable that Y/n always finds a way to apologize, even when things aren’t her fault.
“Are you serious, Y/n? Nobody, including me, can love that man half as much as you do. I ruined your relationship. You barely had anything to ruin.”
She runs her hands through Y/n’s hair one last time before patting her shoulder, a smirk growing on her face as she stands up from her kneeling position.
“Now, up you go. I believe you have to talk to someone who’s been dying to see you.”
It’s when Y/n is about to walk out of her door, freshly showered with a new change of clothes, ready to face Harry when she realizes she never said it.
She never fully told Harry she loves him, not when he was conscious, at least. She had felt it for so long, it has taken over her for so long, yet she never told him how she felt. It almost makes her wonder if it’s the reason why he’s been trying so hard for her.
He needs to hear her say it.
“It’s not hard.” She mumbles to herself as she unlocks her front door.
“Not hard, I just have to fucking sa—”
“Y/n!” Harry breathes out, springing from his position on the ground up to his feet.
He twitches when he instinctively brings his hand up to reach for her, but he holds himself back. He isn’t quite sure how far he’ll allow her to go, but if it were up to him, every part of her would be against him. Every single part.
She sucks in a breath, not expecting to see him waiting on her doorstep, and certainly not expecting him to seem so relieved to see her.
“H—Harry,” she whispers hesitantly, “what are you—“
“I’m sorry!” He stutters, interrupting her before she has a chance to finish asking her question.
“I know how inappropriate it is of me to just sit on your doorstep so unexpectedly but I knew Savannah was coming and I thought that maybe this would be the only time I’d get to see you and I was going to come in but some guy came running out of here and I didn’t want to get in between your time with Savannah so I just figured I’d wait until you came back out but I wasn’t sure if you ever would so I just figured I'd—“
He stops rambling when he feels Y/n’s hand on his cheek, her eyes looking at him with so much tenderness he swears his heart melts.
“Catch your breath, Harry.” She mumbles, rubbing her thumb along his cheek, “Just take a breath.”
He inhales sharply as he closes his eyes, turning his head so that her hand is against his lips. He kisses her palm softly before she moves it to play with his unbrushed hair.
His eyes flutter shut at her touch, his body almost completely melting into her. He feels his weakest now more than ever, and he’s never been more relieved to be this close to her again.
“Who was he, Y/n?” he whispers.
“The guy, who ran out of here, who was he?“
As much of a coward as it makes him, the thought of her in bed with someone else physically and mentally pains him more so than he’s ever expected. His head swims with thoughts of her naked, trembling, crying as she devotes her love to some other man, and the more he thinks about it, the more sick his stomach feels.
“Have I been trying for nothing? Have I been wasting my time?”
How could you ever doubt my love for you? is the first thought that comes to her. How could you ever question how much I love you?
Instead of saying the words right at the tip of her tongue, her eyes crease inward, slightly shaking her head as she scrapes her fingertips delicately against his scalp.
“I don’t know, Harry.” she whispers honestly, “I don’t know who he is.”
He nods softly, but nothing in her answer reassures him. He knows there is no other explanation for a guy to run out of her house at nine in the morning without a shirt on.
“May I come in? Wanna talk.” He asks tentatively.
“Of course you can.”
Silence falls between them as they both claim spots on opposite sides of the room.
There’s a tension in the room they both can’t seem to shake, an unaddressed barrier between them making it nearly impossible to find an appropriate way to start a conversation.
Harry’s the first one to break the silence, however, after a few minutes past of each of them refusing to make any eye contact with each other.
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
The question caught Y/n’s attention quickly, her head that was once resting in the palm of her hand now up on its own, a small “hm?” parting past her lips.
She’s acting dumb even though she knows exactly what he’s talking about. She just isn’t prepared to answer him, not in the way he wants her to.
“That you’re in love with me. Were you ever going to tell me?”
She shrugs, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she tears her gaze away from his. She isn’t used to confrontation, especially when it involves her emotions. It’s one of her weaknesses, but there’s absolutely no way around this one. Even if there was, she wouldn’t have the audacity to take it. He deserves to know—everything this time.
“I told you before.”
Harry’s jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as he looks at her from across the room. No, he may have been oblivious about her feelings in the beginning, but he sure as hell would never have forgotten it if she told him how she felt.
“Bullshit!” He scoffs. “You didn’t tell me shit! We wouldn’t be here right now if you had told me!”
She sighs, her cheek laying right back down in the palm of her hand, almost as if shying away from him.
“Well, it’s just—you were sleeping.”
Harry stands from his place on the couch, face scrunching in aggravation as his hands rub up and down his face.
“You’re kidding me, right? You have to be fucking kidding me right now!”
His fingers harshly grip the roots of his hair before stomping is way towards her. If he doesn’t get any answers out of her, he swears he’ll lose his goddamn mind.
His hands grip the sides of her face, squeezing her jaw between his hands as he looks at her bewildered.
“I need answers, Y/n. I don’t think you understand how many fucking answers I need right now.”
He speaks through clenched teeth and a tightened jaw, frustration boiling in his blood as she gives him the outright most ambiguous and outrageous answers he’s ever heard in his life.
Y/n places her hands on top of his, her fingernails digging gently into his skin. Despite the harshness of his stare, this is the first time she’s seen him in weeks, and she still finds him to be the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen.
“It was the night after I drove you back from Lexi’s, when you and Savannah were kind of going through that rough patch.”
He falls to his knees in between her legs, an almost unnoticeable smile tugging at his lips from the memories of that night. Because although Savannah had left him by himself, he had a night with Y/n that changed him forever.
"You fell asleep on me, after you told me you were still going to fight for her. That was probably one of the worst things you could have said to me, but you didn’t know, and I was angry at myself for not telling you sooner. I didn’t know how else to tell you unless you were—you were sleeping.”
His hand reaches up to her lips, his thumb tracing along the outlines of her mouth once she’s done speaking. No matter how much she confuses him, and no matter how fucking angry she makes him, he wouldn’t want to be staring at anybody else right now.
“I loved you then, too” he whispers, “I didn’t know it. I didn’t know anything until you left me. I knew you meant everything to me, I knew you were the only one I trusted so deeply. But the second I lost you, I felt empty.”
He presses his forehead against her collar bones, her heart beating quickly against his neck. She sighs, her fingers intertwining with his against her lap as her hips slide more towards the edge, her knees supporting the sides of his chest.
“Didn’t matter that I had Savannah. She was lovely, don’t get me wrong, but she wasn’t you. I tried so hard to make myself believe I was just missing you as a friend, but there was nothing that convinced me.”
His tearful eyes looked into hers, both chuckling slightly at their current state. They’re both crying, both their hearts racing in their chests. If someone were to tell them now that there’s a feeling even remotely close to how beautiful they feel now, together, they wouldn’t have believed it for a second.
Y/n wipes away the loose tears on his cheeks while she sniffles, giggling softly at how stupid they probably look.
“I’ve always loved you, Harry,” she whispers, “there’ll never be a time that I stop. No matter how hard I try, my love for you is stronger.”
It’s when the words fall from her lips that Harry realizes all he needed was for her to hear her say it. Her voice is so sweet as she says it, too, and her eyes leave no trace out doubt when she looks into him.
He tries to hold back the irresistible urge to kiss her, but it’s completely impossible. His lips press feverishly against hers, both of them releasing moans at just how right it feels to be kissing one another. Their kiss isn’t the slightest bit romantic. It’s harsh, it’s desperate, it’s messy but it’s just what they need.
Harry crawls on top of her, his hands on every part of her they can touch. He groans when he feels her nails scratch down his back, leaving her giggling underneath him.
“Mine.” He growls, his thumb putting pressure right underneath her chin.
He admires her face, the glorious look of her swollen lips, wet eyes, and pink cheeks. It’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. A soft whimper leaves her lips, craving nothing more than to feel his lips against hers again.
“These lips are mine. All of you—all of you is mine. No other fucking wanker gets you the way I do.”
She smirks, her eyes half-lidded.
“‘m not allowed to sleep with random guys but you’re allowed to fuck my best friend?”
He presses his lips against her again, his hands brushing loose strands of hair away from her face as he does so.
“Never fucked her,” He mumbles against her lips, “couldn’t get you off my mind.”
Y/n rolls over so that she’s on top of Harry, her legs on either side of his waist as her hands roam his chest through his t-shirt. He looks priceless like this, weak and breathless underneath her as her hands grip the sides of his face.
“The prettiest man I’ve ever seen.”
He blushes, his bottom lip in between his teeth as he sends her the biggest grin she’s ever seen on him. His eyes are full of love, too, and Y/n swears every breath she had the chance to take has been knocked right out of her.
“Nobody makes me feel the way you do, Y/n. Nobody.”
“I’m not getting in.” I crossed my arms, looking away from a half naked Jeremy. It was almost a half hour past midnight and I would’ve fallen back asleep comfortably in my sweat and pathetic attempt at peace had he not knocked on my door and persuaded me to come downstairs and JUMP A FENCE to swim in the pool. I’m not some kind of saint but who wouldn’t rather be sleeping?
“Come on!” He whispered, his teeth chattering as he smiled widely. “It’s perfect.” He lolled his head back as I rubbed my hands over my face.
I felt the dew on the blades of grass under my feet and the mild wind blowing at me. The sky also wasn’t completely dark somehow. It was a dark shade of navy blue with stars and clouds and the occasional airplane making it’s way through, so far away.
I couldn’t imagine my life without Jeremy now. It felt like he was always there even if he just showed up out of the blue three years prior and forced his way into the best friend gap in my heart.
He understood me and I figured I might as well be his slave forever because he helped me so much and my other friends still believed he was a bad person for almost choking me to death that ONE time.
“Helloooo?” Jeremy said, his arms wading in the water, the moons reflection in the ripples.
“What did you say?” I asked, clearing my throat. I could see the beads of water on his shoulders, some of his hair in his eyes.
“I said please like fifteen times.” He said. I sighed, taking off my shirt.
I would be at work the day after, probably with baggy eyes and more caffeine than usual but there would be something more to have in my diary and our memories.
“Oh-hohoho! Now we’re talking.” Jeremy lowered his face further underwater, his nose barely above the surface.
I swam to him, his hand already extended for me. I kicked my legs to stay afloat as our fingers entwined.
“I was having a dream,” he said. Our eyes met and my breath got caught in my throat. “You were in it, it felt so vivid, I woke up and I had to see you.” He said, his lips so close to the water that he blubbered at times.
“Simply riveting.” I put my hand on his freckled shoulder and he smiled, rolling his eyes.
“You’re such a jerk!” He splashed water in my face, swimming away before I could react. I screamed, wiping my face and paddled closer so I could splash him back.
“Come back here, chump!” I giggled as I tried grabbing onto one of his limbs. I finally caught up to him in the shallow part of the pool and he was laughing at me.
Is he a damn Olympian, or what? I swam next to him, letting my pants become regular breaths. I looked at his face again, a drop of water falling off his nose as he glanced back at me.
“What was your dream about, Jeremy?” I grabbed his hand again. The pads of his fingers were pruned and I laughed.
He started to lean in and I almost gasped. Before I knew it our lips were touching and my mouth fell open as his lips traced mine. My hand traveled up out of the water, holding onto his arm.
He shuffled closer to me, pressing me against the concrete side of the pool, his body molding a great match into mine.
“Jer.” I watched the sky hazily with half lidded eyes as he moved warm kisses down the side of my neck.
“I apologize.” He whispered, his face too near and dear for me to catch a breath. “But my dream was about you… just like this.” He started, his hands reaching behind my back so that he could unclasp my bra. His mouth dipped down as his hands traveled to my ass. My eyes fluttered as he lifted me up so that he could envelope one of my nipples in his mouth, pressing his tongue against me.
My eyes flickered awake when I felt his bulge shift against me. I swallowed.
“Was this in your dream?” I whispered, boldly snaking my hand into his boxers and grabbing his dick. He groaned, pulling his mouth away from me. “Do we dare have sex in this very pool?” I asked.
“I don’t see why not.” He replied, his voice deeper. I grabbed onto the wall as he pulled my bottoms away from me, pulling my legs tickilishly towards him, a big geeky smile on his face.
I struggled with his shorts underwater, frowning at the strings tying it together. “What, did you square knot this or something, boy scout?” I pulled at the strings in frustration.
“Relax, sweetheart.” He stifled a laugh, reaching down to do it himself. “I knew your bird brains would catch up soon.” He joked, naked before me then.
He hid his nose in my neck as he held me carefully against the wall, pushing in me, his hand guiding himself in. My breath stopped and I tried looking in between our warm bodies.
“Perfect.” I muttered, my eyes falling closed as I let out a choked moan. It was perfect, although he was quite sizeable in a way that definitely made the experience a little painful.
He let out sighs as he pulled me toward him easily, eyebrows clenched in concentration. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my pants going straight into his ear.
I almost screamed as he hit a sensitive spot. I grasped his shoulders as he continued stroking the spot barely. I frowned, digging my nails in him as an orgasm built inside me.
I couldn’t breath and every few seconds an exasperated gasp would escape me for forgetting how to intake oxygen. I bucked my legs in the water, trying desperately to get off.
My stomach flared up in a frenzy and I melted, letting go and gushing as I let out a long moan in his ear. He grunted on my shoulder, my heaving chest pressed right against his.
I fell limp in his strong arms, my legs weakly wrapping around him.
“You get brownie points for that one, scout.” I muttered, leaning against his shoulder.