suntanned skin

There’s Nothing Holding Us Back (Part. 1/?) | Jeff Atkins

Originally posted by a-lovesweet

Pairing : Jeff Atkins x Reader

Words : 1532

A/N: This is my first imagine ever so please be gentle, i’m french so excuse me if i made some mistakes i tried my best :) I decided to pick Jeff because i clearly had a crush on him since the first time i saw him in 13RW and we all agree HE DESERVED BETTER. I will try to write other imagine about him and the rest of the cast so send me some requests if you want. And for this one, there will be probably 4 parts I guess :)

Enjoy and spread love

- Mathilde :) xx




You’ve been watching every details of your reflection in the mirror since ten minutes, just to find something that you could change. Something you could improve. If your shirt was good enough, even though it probably is the seventh that you tried. You know Jeff will arrive in about thirty minutes but you didn’t even decided about what you will wear tonight. There are must be fifteen different outfits scattered in your room, proving your indecision.

“Whatever you’re wearing, he will like you.” You can’t help but jump when you hear your best friend’s voice, Clay. He’s leaning on the door, still wearing his favorite hoodie. You didn’t even hear the doorbell or Clay climbing the stairs because you were too focused on your flaws. You smile at him while he’s sitting on the edge of you bed, where luckily there weren’t any clothes. “I’m sorry, Clay. I didn’t notice you were here.” His lips stretch in a mocking smile. “That’s what I’ve seen.”

You let yourself fall beside him, completly desesperate. You known him since seven months but he has quickly become someone very important for you. It was him who’s been charged to show you the Liberty High the day you arrived. You just couldn’t be far from each other since that day. All of your afternoons spent together in the library allowed you two to found out common grounds. Especially Comics. Being a big fan of Marvel, particurlarly the Winter Soldier, you just couldn’t let him criticise Bucky Barnes - who clearly deserved better. And the bound become wider.

He can do something for you. He can help you with Jeff. He knows him, right ? Plus, Clay has been talking with him about Hannah. You were hoping that the baseball player could have told him what he likes in girls. “I just can’t make a choice. It’s like I can’t get dressed anymore.” He giggles at what you said and you let your head laid on his shoulder. A bra suddenly appears in front of your face and Clay shakes it. “You really want to get it on with him, huh ?” You try to push him on the floor than laugh with him. “Fuck off, Jensen.”

“I just can’t understand why you’re so scared about this date. He has seen you without makeup, all sweaty and with your awful morning face.” You stick out your tongue at him. He’s not wrong but he just can not understand. Even though all of your gym class didn’t scare Jeff, you still wanted to be the prettiest girl in his eyes. “Look Clay, boys can only wear a jean and they still appear to be handsome. But girls need to feel beautiful, desired by guys. Get it ?” 

“Yes, but…” He’s been shutted by the ringbell. Of course, it’s Hannah who goes into your room, smiling. “Hello, Y/N. Hi, Helmet.” You give her a smile while Clay was just blushing. He blushed even more when she sat next to him. He can make fun of your sexy underwear but his reaction everytime Hannah is around him is a lot more funny. The poor guy loses confidence and becomes all nervous. You really have to do something to help these lovebirds. “You both wanted to stress me even more, don’t you ?” 

“Helmet called me. And the situation is worst than I expected.” You turn to Clay who is smart enough to understand your question. “Your brother. He saw how much you seemed to be lost and since your parents aren’t home, he called me.” It’s as if you didn’t have anyone but Clay as a friend. Although, this is not totally false. But there are also Tony and Skye with whom you get on well.

And there’s Hannah. A new student like you with whom you created a true friendship since you helped each other in physics class. You tried to talk with other students like the famous groupe friends of Justin Foley but you didn’t appreciate the way they treated Hannah. So you prefered hang out with the “biggest ass” of the school instead of completly douchebags.

“What Jeff told you about your date ?” Clay is trying to reassure you making conversation with you while Hannah has her head in your closet. She really wants to help you. “Barely nothing.” you respond. She hands you a navy blue blouse that goes up to your neck, one of your favorite shirt. “Wear this one. It suits you well and I’m sure, he’ll fall for you.” Just before putting it on, you turn to Clay so that he looks somewhere else. Of course, he has seen you in swimsuit at Bryce’s parties — where you forced him to go with you — but it wasn’t the same thing as underwear. Hannah is helping you to zip up in the back and as she said, you looked pretty cute wearing this shirt.

Jeff has to pick you up at 7, you only have 8 minutes to finish preparing you — you still have to do your makeup and put on some perfume then pick out you shoes. “Don’t you have work tonight ?” You didn’t pay attention until now but they are helping you instead of working at Cresmont. “There are two new and young employees who wanted to prove they can handle the job.“ Perfect. They can see each other anywhere else than the Cresmont or the school. 

You know how to do your makeup so it only takes you 5 minutes to do it. Of course, even a date won’t separate you from your eternal pairs of Nike. All covered with little drawings from Clay, Hannah and even Jeff. There’s also a little smiley with cross eyes from Justin Foley — he made it at the first party you came at the start of the year. Your favorite one will always be the one from Tony, two little laurel leaving on each side of your shoes.* But above all, you take his letterman jacket that he gave you after one of his baseball games. From this moment, you’ve had a big sign above your head saying “Taken by Jeff Atkins. Don’t touch”. And you kind of liked that. Getting you rid of assholes like Monty de le Cruz. And you were considered being more than just a friend to him.

“What are you going to do after I go ?” You give Clay a chance to propose her to do something together. “Maybe watch a movie ?” You were praying that Clay make the first step but Jeff decided to distract you from your goal. He has the chance you like him a lot because you totally could ask him to come back later.

You froze in the middle of your room while it feels like your heart will come out of your chest. “Shit. I wasn’t ready. I’m not ready. I can’t…” Okay, you’re gonna pee on yourself in about two seconds. “Shut up, Y/N. Everything will be alright. Just take a breath and calm down.” Clay wasn’t the type of guy to swear. But you knew that when he does it, it was because something particularly affected him. He was the calm one between you two. “C'mon, Y/N. It’s not as if it was Sebastian Stan** who was here to pick you up. It’s just Jeff Atkins. But for fuck’s sake, it’s still Jeff Atkins.”

“Now, stand up and join your boy.” he pursued. You give them a quick hug. “Thank you, guys.” Just before you step out of the room, Hannah took your hand, looking deep in yours eyes. “Please. Do not miss this chance.” You smile at her, thinking of all the times she pushed you and Jeff to recognize your feelings. Jeff was having a chat with your brother about the next baseball game. They were in the same team and you were relieved to know that they get along well. Your brother knew how kind and gentle was Jeff so there was no problem with you two hanging out.

They stop their conversation as you make your way to them. He’s wearing a white t-shirt highlighting his suntanned skin. God, he’s beautiful. “You ready to go ?” You can’t help but feel a little hurt because he didn’t say anything. Even if you’re just wearing a shirt with a pair of pants and you had his jacket, you were still hoping he would say something. “Yep. We can go.” You give a kiss to your brother just before leaving and following Jeff to his car.

“I didn’t want to make you feel unconfortable by making this in front of your little brother and Clay and Hannah who were clearly spying us but…” He’s looking at you with his beautiful smile. His legendary smile that makes all the girls fall in love with him. He’s running his hand across your face to your lips, caressing it with his thumb. Then presses it while your heart is beating more and more.

“You’re absolutely gorgeous.” He kisses you a few millimeters next to your lips, just where his thumb was. Even though he didn’t kiss you, the contact of his lips on your cheek totally electrified your all body. Jeff then took your hand and didn’t let it go until you arrived. 



*so I was thinking about harry styles’ tattoo for this drawing.

**he’s the one who plays Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier) in Captain America.

It’s like a blood sport with plants. 

Chlorophyll sports. Pollen sports?

drawing prompt 233, Sage and her “garden”

thanks @dailydrawingprompts

anonymous asked:

I don't think you did it already so could you do the description thingy with the Justice League's Big 7 (minus Bruce since you already did him)?

Hal- Average height yet people always seem to think he’s shorter than he is. A bit handsome in that ruggedly, goofy way that would make him charming if he wasn’t such an obnoxious ass half the time. Bright green/grey that twinkle with or without a mask, a truly glittering smile on a broad chin . I feel like Hal would have kind of a big nose, slightly out of proportion with his face. Very messy mousy brown hair, constantly in a windswept state. Muscled but not overly so, just that he can fly with ease but not enough to truly impress any girls at the bar.

Barry- Tall, just shy of being too tall but skinny. His muscles are tight and ropy and ready to speed into action at a moment, there’s nothing for showing off with but Barry isn’t one to brag anyway. He’s gangly but surprisingly graceful. A bit of a baby face even as an adult, picturesque lidded sky blue eyes with a tiny nose and wide mouth for smiles and jokes and food. Cropped short sandy blond hair, carefully cut to ensure it doesn’t bother him while running. He is pretty pale too, it looks even lighter with his light hair and eyes. Large hands that can move quicker than light but always take those extra seconds to be gentle.

J'onn- As a Martian he is inhumanly tall, taller than Diana. His proportions don’t quite meet human standards which kind of makes people uncomfortable when they look at him. Thin, gangly, too long limbs, a chest cavity that’s too sharp in the wrong it makes him look gaunt. His skull is longer than a human, pulling back into almost a point. But no matter how inhuman he can appear (and he can appear more human, but among his friend he chooses to just be himself) his eyes are warm and red and terribly compassionate. A small mouth that conveys so much with the smallest smiles. His skin is green, but not a solid green. Like a chameleon, he shimmers between colors, unconsciously reacting to his environment and emotions. He is a kaleidoscope of every green imaginable and a few that aren’t.

Arthur- A contradiction. He is of reasonable height but the set of his shoulders and the tilt of his chin make him look taller. He radiates a feeling of authority and those who meet him get the sense that he is a leader of some sort. And yet he is not intimidating, he is conscientious and aware of everyone around him. Rounded cheeks but a square jaw, thick sun blond hair curling at his shoulders. He is broad, with powerful rolling muscles from swimming. Even he underestimates his own strength but an apology is always the first thing on his lips. Deep sea foam green eyes, a perfect mix of sea and shore on warm suntanned skin.

Diana- Taller by far than everyone save J'onn in his Martian form, like I’m talking 6.8-7’ tall. She is built like a warrior too, broad shoulder and muscles that look like they’d been sculpted from marble. In fact there’s this feeling you get when looking at her that she’s too perfect, she has this solid appearance to her like a statue. A long face with big, almost pouty lips. A Grecian nose, thick black eyebrows and dark, dark brown eyes that go on forever. The most luscious black hair, the color of raven’s wings that fall gracefully behind her buff back that never seems a hair out of place. She is well-built all over, an ample chest yes but with a broad base to support it. Bruce would have a difficult trying to lift her but she can easily hold up her male friends.

Clark- Clark is a big man who, miraculously, appears as a small man and no one knows how he does it. Even at his full height, shoulders back with all the power in the world, he seems just like everyone else. He’s broad too but not as wide as Arthur, and also unlike Arthur, every one of Clark’s movements are carefully measured and calculated. Caution is written in his feature, every flinch. His eyes are an electric, unearthly blue that are so inhuman looking people look at superman and believe him from another world. But behind slightly tinted glasses with Clark’s eyes pointed at the ground they seem perfectly ordinary. Slick black hair, carefully kept like Barry’s to avoid it becoming a problem. A good American square-jawed boy, dimples when he smiles and a cute button nose. He exudes an easy charm that settles down most everyone he meets.

Habits

Short little Nalu drabble I wrote for a warm-up entirely too early this morning. Also posted on AO3. Based on moments from a simpler time in the series.


           There were a few things that people did when they woke up every morning that made up their routine. The first was usually the struggle to get out of bed, especially if they’d gotten in as late as she and her guildmates had the night before (thanks to, she recalled, Erza’s insistence on stopping by a bakery that had already been closed by the time they got there). The second was freshening up and making oneself presentable, and the third was eating whatever breakfast one could scrounge up, though the latter two didn’t have to be in that order. What Lucy Heartfilia had come to expect every morning when she awoke, however, was either one or more of her friends barging into her home before shortly after she’d finally rolled out of bed, or…

           Her eyes shot open as she turned, colliding with his solid frame and growling his name through gritted teeth. Natsu had his share of bad habits, but she’d never understood how he managed to land in her bed so often without her noticing. The more she’d thought about it, the less sense it made—he was anything but stealthy, always loud and crashing about during the day. Sleep was the only time he even seemed capable of being quiet, and now, as she watched his shoulder rise and fall with his deep, steady breaths, her irritation began to fade.

            He really was cute when he was sleeping. Though his back was toward her, she could just make out a portion of his profile, the suntanned skin and a glimpse of the scar that extended across his right cheek and past his jawline. His pink hair was even messier than usual, and something about the way it stuck out in all directions forced the corners of her lips to turn upward.

           Lately, she’d been wondering why it was he chose to stay here so much. He had his own house after all, stocked with everything he needed and a nice, warm bed. Still, it was a little farther from the guild hall than hers was, even isolated in comparison. Lucy couldn’t help but wonder if he got lonely there, even though he had Happy and spent every day among friends. She barely realized that she’d begun to reach for his shoulder when she paused midway. Maybe he was lonely or maybe he was just being a bum, but either way, it really had been a late night. She couldn’t blame him for sleeping in this time.

          Hesitating briefly, she lowered herself back under the pile of blankets and let her head sink into her pillow. She could still hear and feel him breathing nearby, more quietly now as if he’d fallen into an even deeper sleep. For a moment, she listened, her eyelids growing heavier by the minute. She could lecture him later, but for now, she would sleep.

          She would never know how she’d curled up next to him, gripping the loose fabric of his shirt in her fingers, or how he’d glanced over his shoulder at her when she’d done so. She’d never know it was a habit of hers, and even when she snapped at him later for invading her personal space, he wouldn’t tell her. Whether either of them realized it or not, there were some things that didn’t need to be said, and some moments better left in their present.

With you

Someone asked me this week
How to know who they should be with
And I thought of you.

Tangled in sheets,
Sweat beaded on suntanned skin, yes
But also

Clutching my stomach gasping in laughter begging you to stop talking because I’m so tired and I want to go to sleep and it’s late, so late, but then the giggles start again and I’m helpless to stop

Wrapping myself in your arms hiding from the world because they don’t understand and all I want is to be heard

Planning in vivid detail for a thousand different futures from backpacking Europe to surviving the zombie apocalypse and the only constant is in any possible future it is the two of us

Not knowing for sure whether it is you or I who doesn’t like that food but it doesn’t really matter because it will never be allowed to cross our shared threshold anyway

Every tiny moment where I catch your eye or think of you and smile
Every time I reach for you and you are there
Every time I assume that you will be beside me

My answer was
When you can’t fathom being without someone
That is who you should be with.

@StripedGriffin​

empressvegah  asked:

"All right, all right! If you’re so against it, then we can work together to sabotage our own wedding!” USUK! XD

Title: Match Made 
Pairing: USUK
AU: Human, arranged marriage
Summary: Arthur Kirkland detests the idea of an arranged marriage enough to make his fiancee help him sabotage their wedding. However, Arthur can’t seem to help falling for the man he’s trying to break away from. 
Rating: T
Word Count: 3,301
A/N: Thanks for the prompt sweetheart! 


Within ten minutes of meeting Arthur, it became abundantly clear to Alfred that the man was determined to hate him. The Brit had barely said two words to him whilst their parents chatted, and what he had said was either sarcastic or consisted of one word. When they were finally instructed by their parents to spend some time alone, Alfred had resisted the urge to protest and instead lead his bitter fiancee to the garden.

They walked in silence for a few moments, Arthur with his thick brows furrowed and his arms folded across his chest, pointedly not looking at Alfred.

“…Was I not what you expected?” Alfred asked, glancing at the man with a bit of sadness in his eyes.

“I didn’t expect anything,” Arthur replied bitterly, “because I didn’t expect to be married.”

Keep reading

John H. Woodbury’s Facial Soap, 1913.

“Cleanse the face thoroughly. Rub its lather in!

Sun-Tanned Skins, How to rebuild them

To have a skin you can be proud of during the coming months you must remove the effects of summer exposure and restore your skin to its natural whiteness and texture.

Tonight just before you retire, wash your face with Woodbury’s Facial Soap and warm water, using a stiff face brush or wash cloth. Rinse, and rub the cake of Woodbury’s itself over your face several times. Massage into the skin the soap thus left on the face and leave it on all night.

Woodbury’s Facial Soap is the work of an authority on the skin and its needs. This cleansing, whitening treatment with it gives nature just the aid it needs to restore the natural beauty of a suntanned skin. Use it persistently for a few weeks (stopping if your skin should become sensitive) and you will see a marked improvement.

Woodbury’s Facial Soap costs 25c a cake. No one hesitates at the price after their first cake.

Tear off the illustration of the cake shown below and put in your purse as a reminder to get a cake of Woodbury’s today and try this treatment.

For sale by dealers throughout the United States and Canada

Write today for samples

For 4c we will send a sample cake. For 10c, samples of Woodbury’s Facial Soap, Facial Cream and Facial Powder.”

New suntan drug makes your skin naturally darker and protects you from burning

Many people love having a tan, even though we know full-well that UV damage is extremely dangerous and harmful.

We slather on sun-cream to protect our skin, and then apply the fake stuff to achieve a safe glow.

But what if there was a way to get a real tan whilst staying safe in the sun? Thanks to new scientific research, your dreams may be about to become a reality.

Scientists from Massachusetts General Hospital have developed a drug that mimics the effect of sunlight on the skin, thus making you tan without any UV rays.

The drug works by tricking the skin into producing the brown form of the pigment melanin - it’s been tested on skin samples and mice so far.

It is hoped the drug will work on redheads too, who usually burn rather than tan in the sun.

What’s more, it could slow the appearance of skin ageing.

It’s news that will be welcomed by sun-worshippers, but the scientists did not conduct the research with cosmetics in mind.

They hope the new drug will provide a breakthrough in preventing skin cancer.

“Our real goal is a novel strategy for protecting skin from UV radiation and cancer,” Dr David Fisher, one of the researchers, told BBC News.

“Dark pigment is associated with a lower risk of all forms of skin cancer - that would be really huge.”

Dark melanin is the body’s natural sunblock, but it’s only made after a chain of chemical reactions first occur as a result of sun exposure. The new drug, however, would essentially make the body skip the damage and start producing melanin straight away.

It works by being rubbed into the skin.

“It has a potent darkening effect,” Dr Fisher said. “Under the microscope it’s the real melanin, it really is activating the production of pigment in a UV-independent fashion.”

Whilst fake tans essentially just paint the skin and so offer no protection, the drug would be different.

Tests show that the melanin produced from the drug successfully blocks harmful UV rays.

Dr Fisher says everyone should “absolutely” use sun-cream, and they eventually want to combine it with the drug to provide the best protection from solar radiation.

Although there have been no problems with the drug yet, scientists want to do more tests before making it available.

“A lot more research has to be done before we see this sort of technology being used on humans, however, it’s certainly an interesting proposition,” Matthew Gass, from the British Association of Dermatologists, said.

“Skin cancer rates in the UK are going through the roof… any research into ways that we can prevent people from developing skin cancer in the first place is to be welcomed.”

naruhina; special delivery

prompt: fashion au (D-21) & “I was supposed to just send you a pizza delivery, but now I’m shirtless and you’re taking photos of me and we’re making lots of eye contact and is it just me or is it getting hot in here?”
rating: K+
a/n: i seem to be getting ideas for aus more than others for this month lol. enjoy!

-//-

-//-

Hinata always believed temper was best viewed in stages. Like a thermometer, people vary on where their boiling point was set. Most qualified in the average degree where controlling their anger was no chore. Others may find themselves sinking easily into the flames of rage till they’re consumed by nothing but unrefined fury. In her case, she would like to believe she fell into the moderate group, where not much sowed irritation into the grounds of her mind or brought her over the edge with a bout of anger. The calm demeanour she wore made her rather fluent in the art of patience; a trait she bore proudly.

Yet at that very second, the flashing alarms of annoyance curbing into anger echoed through her mind.

Her eyes dallied back to the hands etched on the face of the clock, each tick inching by quicker than she usually perceived.  Her fingers thrummed against the fold of her crossed arms, the languid rise of her chest disguising the rapid pace of her heartbeat as her nerves rumbled away through her body.

The hands had made a full circle. A minute had passed. Still nothing.

Her fingers slowed its rhythmic tapping and a heavy sigh escaped her lips. She had already been waiting for an hour, why she had expected anything to change through that one minute was unfathomable even to her.

Hinata swivelled her gaze to the bundle of clothes strewn across the sofa, already piled in a way where they were just waiting to be worn by the absent model. The bright lighting in the studio gave the constant illusion there was still plenty of hours left in the day when reality out the window showed how the sun had sunk down to allow the moon to take its shift yet he was still nowhere to be seen.

The hands on the clock continued to move despite her dilemma.

This is what I get for trusting Kiba-kun.

Keep reading

with these aching bones (nc-17, 5k)

[ao3]

The lake is flat and still, smooth like glass and dotted with the blurry reflections of the fireflies zipping around their boat. Their faint buzz is hardly audible over the hoarse croaking of frogs just a short distance away at the shore. Dean shivers, pulling his jacket over his knuckles as he stares out across the water, hoping for a ripple or splash or anything that might suggest this isn’t a complete waste of their time. It’s 2 a.m. and he’s about ready to give up, people-eating lake monster or no.

There’s a clatter as Cas emerges from the tiny cabin of their on-loan fishing boat. He’s yawning, jaw popped wide, his hair all scruffed up on one side where he’s been pushing his fingers through it. There’s a steaming mug of coffee in his hand that smells fucking amazing.

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The Thing Is {A Parksborn Fic}

In which:

  1. Harry Osborn is head counselor and pining-not-pining
  2. Peter Parker steals underwear
  3. Gwen Stacy can kill a man with a rubber band
  4. There are lots of misunderstandings
  5. The thing with the socks happens

Word Count: 5685
Rating: M
Warnings: slight Peter/OFC if you’re in denial like Harry

{frieeeeends. my first non-prompty fic. wow. how proud of me are you? probably not very proud. anyway. camp au. enjoy

okay but really. i had this thing finished a while ago, when my browser decides to be a dick and shut itself down. it was actually a lot longer but im just done with life rn. perhaps i will revisit this verse. perhaps.}

Story under read more or…

Read on AO3

It starts with this:

Peter.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Harry stalked up to Peter, who was busy taking snaps of Gwen working with the kids on one of her Gwen Experiments™, and grabbed him by the collar of his rough cotton polo. “What,” he snarled, shaking Peter a bit for emphasis, “Did. You. Do. With. My. Underwear.”

Peter tried very hard to look innocent and naive. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Har. Why would I do anything to your underwear?”

Harry pointed to the top of the flagpole where-

“Yes, well, there’s that. But that wasn’t me, Harry, I swear!”

-Harry’s underwear hung in place of the American flag.

“Why are you doing the eye twitch thing, if it isn’t you, Peter?” Harry asked, swinging his arm around so it was pointing at Peter’s eye instead of the flagpole, nearly blinding him.

"Whaaaaaaaaa?” Peter brought a hand up to his eye, covering it, “My eye is not twitching!” His eye gave a very hard twitch.

Harry scowled. It was wrong to think the lying scum underwear stealing buffoon that was your counsel house roommate and best friend was attractive when his eye twitched. Wrong, wrong, wrong wrong.

“I’m only going to ask you once, Peter,” Harry said through clenched teeth, waving around his Head Counselor Clipboard® menacingly, “As your head counselor and the only person within twenty miles of here who knows where your EpiPen is for your twenty different allergies, please take my underwear off the flagpole. The kids are starting to say the Pledge of Allegiance to it.”

Peter craned his neck, snickering when he saw Joseph with his right hand over his heart at the flagpole.

Now, Peter,” Harry crossed his arms, and Peter let out a sigh, web slinging up the pole, snatching his underwear off of it. He jumped down, landing gracefully, and handed Harry his underwear.

"You’re, like, no fun at all,” Peter whined, although he was smiling like an idiot. His eyes sparked brightly, and something deep in Harry unraveled, reaching for Peter. He opened his mouth, ready to say it, to say the words he had been harboring inside of him since he had first realized how he felt about Peter. He was going to say it, he was-

Something exploded behind them and Harry jumped up in surprise, pulled out of his revelry. Gwen was covered in ash, as were the twelve eager children around her, who were all cheering in excitement at whatever had exploded.

“Erm, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” she gave a meek shrug at Harry, who just shook his head, sighing long sufferingly. He turned back to Peter to comment on the matter, but the spider was already gone, slinging his way to the canteen where reportedly there would be a delicious lunch of chili and corndogs in half an hour.

——————————————————————————————————————————

Charles Xavier’s Summer Camp for Non-mutants, or just Non-X for short, had been a program started by SHIELD in the starting years when Non-mutant heroes began popping up all over the US. Super soldiers, Spider-Men, Green Goblins, they were all the same to the members of SHIELD. All possible threats to the safety of the world unless properly trained, they had been shepherd at first into Charles Xavier’s School For Gifted Youngsters and then to a summer long program when it was recognized that sticking super genius non-mutants with crowds of impressionable actual mutants usually led to fires and other mayhem. 

So Non-X was created, funded kindly by government programs and Tony Stark, who was snooty and hard to work with but also donated all the cool science type things that Gwen so liked, and kids like Harry Osborn were shipped there with the assumption they would someday turn out to be something great. 

Super geniuses, heirs to multibillionaire companies, kids with special non-mutant abilities, they were all offered a chance to attend Non-X for all their summers until they were recruited by SHIELD at 18.

Special cases like Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy, who were nothing special until certain circumstance changes, rarely popped up, and when they did, they were treated with care.

Harry had been spending his summers at Non-X since he was 14 and his father had given him his first Goblin Board™. At 17, just a year before Harry’s recruitment into SHIELD, Peter had gotten bit by a radioactive spider and was too sent to Non-X. Gwen came subsequently afterwards, when it was discovered she was not only likely a genius, but that Black Widow had cornered her and convinced her to become a SHIELD agent. 

The summer of Harry’s 18th birthday, when Peter and Gwen were still 16 and still enjoying themselves at Non-X, Harry was asked to return and serve as head counselor for the camp. They had long since kicked out Clint from that position, since it had been found that he was playing human hunting type games with fake bows and arrows. It was bad form to shoot children with fake bows and arrows, apparently.

So Harry had returned, and for two blissful years had been in charge of Peter and Gwen. When Gwen had turned 18, she had been sent on a mission to England for 6 months, and came back with a mind full of knowledge on how to kill men twice her size and five different mutant phone numbers. (She never called any of them.) Peter, on the other hand had stuck around Non-X, and had become something of a celebrity to the children. Spider-Man was cool. Apparently being a flying Goblin was not. 

So it was surprise to no one when Peter had been asked to come back to camp as a counselor alongside Harry. Well, possibly it was a surprise to Harry, who had breathed a sigh of relief that final summer when Peter had spent most of camp time walking around shirtless with all of his gorgeous, suntanned skin on display.

Gwen showed up that summer able to fluently speak Russian. She was asked to stay on as the science director.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Non-X, under the surface, wasn’t really anything more than the average summer camp. Although they did have special activities, ranging from gene splicing to bomb dodging, they also had swimming classes and kayaking and anything the kids would so desire to have at a summer camp. 

Harry liked his summer job, even though it meant spending a large sum of his time with Peter in various states of undress (they shared a cabin and a bathroom, so Harry had seen just about everything), and he liked working with the kids, believe it or not. He had spent most of his teenage years cooped up in a stuffy European boarding school, and the only time he ever got to get out was during summer at Non-X. Now, he was the head of Oscorp; Green Goblin, one of New York city’s many vigilantes; and the head counselor of the camp. There was nothing more in the world he could possibly want.

Well-

He glanced at Peter, who was sitting two tables over with the kids from his fan club, chomping on his corndog like there was no tomorrow.

-maybe a few things.

“So you still haven’t told him yet, have you?” Gwen leaned across the table to tap on Harry’s knuckle. Harry glanced around warily. They were sitting at the counselor table, the place Harry would least like to talk about his feelings.

No one was paying attention though, so, “I don’t doubt that you have full knowledge on how to seduce Peter Parker, Gwendolyn, but I, on the other hand, would rather not spend the rest of the summer awkwardly avoiding him when he announces to the world that I have no chance in hell.”

Gwen made a sad little noise, covering Harry’s hand with her own, “Harry, you don’t know that. I’m pretty sure Peter would be willing to give you guys a chance.”

And there it was, the words Harry didn’t want to hear. He didn’t want Peter to simply give them a chance. He wanted all the stupid romantic things he denied himself in the daytime and indulged in the nighttime. He wanted Peter to be wild over him, completely lost in love the way Harry feared himself to be over Peter. He wanted something more than a few casual dates and calls and a we tried it, but it’s not going to work out, Harry

Harry cleared his throat, taking a bite of his Counselor Salad™ before responding. “That isn’t what I want, Gwen.”

Gwen shook her head. “No, no. Harry, don’t you know that Peter… he… he feels-“

Peter slid into the chair next to Harry, tray full of another round of corndogs. Gwen’s jaw snapped shut and she turned back to her lunch of tofu and rice.

“Hey guys,” Peter says through a mouthful of corndog, “So I was thinking for free hour, we could set up a game of Zombies Vs Humans in the Big Field™. What’dya think? I talked to some of the kids and they really want to play.”

Harry looked down at his Head Counselor Clipboard®, saw that there was nothing going on at the Big Field™, and nodded professionally. “I suppose we could do that.”

The smile on Peter’s face was worth being tackled by Sonja, who was rumored to be a first round pick for the NFL after he graduated. 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

“I’m going to help you get the booty,” Gwen announced during the nightly bonfire. Harry lifted his eyebrows up, glancing around to make sure none of the children had heard her.

“Is this really the time and place to be talking about this, Gwendolyn? Because I’m sure there is about to be a rousing tale of ghosts-”

Gwen crossed her arms, looking very put upon. “This is stupid. You two should have gotten together years ago.”

“Gwen, he doesn’t even like me,” Harry sighed, resting his elbows on his knees. He buried his face in his hands, scrubbing tiredly at his eyes. “And I don’t want him to just pity date me, or whatever you have in mind. If we’re going to be together… I want him to love me, the way that I love him.”

Gwen made a face. “Ew, don’t say that kind of stuff to me.”

Harry gaped. “You’re the one that brought it up!”

“Brought what up?” Peter asked as he plopped down on the log next to Harry.

“Gwendolyn’s insane, we’re not talking about anything,” Harry bit out, giving Gwen a pointed look. She held up her hands, miming a zipper over her mouth.

“Oh, okay,” Peter laughed, confused. And then he looked at Gwen, eyes intense. “You better not have been talking about anything.”

Gwen mimed unzipping her mouth. “You know Parker, secrets are really the opposite of the entire point of this summer camp.”

“I will web you to that log, Gwen,” Peter hissed, and now Harry was the one that was confused.

“IIIIIIII’m gonna go make some s’mores,” Harry said, but Peter and Gwen ignored him, continuing to bicker quietly.

That night, Harry got a hole burnt in his shirt and marshmallow stuck in his hair, but one could live off the quality of the s’mores at Non-X.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

The thing was…

Well, you see, the thing was….

Peter.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Harry had loved Peter since he could remember. Perhaps not in the way he did now, with a hot passion and a burning lust or whatever Gwen said he was feeling, but he had always loved Peter because Peter had always been there.

Peter was just so damn lovable. He was easily distracted and he smelled amazing and he was just good. He was all things good when Harry was all things bad, or at least bad in essence. He was there when Green Goblin was tearing Harry apart, there to pick up the pieces and make everything alright. He was there when Norman had died and Harry was left with millions of jobs relying on his singular decisions. He was there, always, and he was loved and cherished by not only Harry but seemingly the rest of New York City, as Spider-Man and as simply Peter Parker. Even Gwen had at some point loved Peter. Even if them dating hadn’t worked out because Gwen was probably the second most dangerous person on the planet, Gwen had still loved Peter, and had still felt the things Harry had been feeling since he was old enough to understand that love was the funny feeling in his stomach.

The thing was. Well, you see, the thing was. He loved Peter more than he loved a lot of things. He loved him more than his job, more than his money, more than his fancy cars and his French supermodels. He would give up all those things if it meant Peter loved him, even a little bit. If Peter felt the same way, it would possibly be the greatest thing of Harry’s life, including being a multibillionaire and a SHIELD agent.

Loving Peter Parker… well, it just was. It was the way things worked in Harry’s world. He didn’t want things to change. He never wanted things to change, not from this perfect world of Gwen and Peter and camp, but at the same time, something had to change. Harry couldn’t live like this, having Peter share a cabin with him, having Peter treat him as his best pal, having Peter so close and not nearly close enough.

Something had to give, and Harry feared it would be him.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

The fall of Harry Osborn began with this:

2 mismatched socks left in his cabin.

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Harry had no idea who the socks belonged to, nor did he have any interest in ever finding out. They smelt. They smelt and they were girl socks and they definitely didn’t belong to Gwendolyn, because Gwen up and down swore to the power of the sandal on hot summer days.

These were female socks. In his cabin. And although he didn’t want to find out who they belonged to (because that inevitably led down to a road of jealousy and heartache and possibly Green Goblin destroying everything), it certainly did not mean he didn’t want to find out just how they got there. Harry never brought girls to the cabin, not even Gwendolyn who was the only female he could stand to tolerate during the summer months. When he was back to being Harry Osborn, head of Oscorp and darling of New York City, that was a different story; but here in the sanctity of Non-X, he was much too busy chasing around kids and pining-not-pining over Peter.

The only other suspect was Peter.

But that was…

Well.

It wasn’t preposterous, really. Peter was popular amongst the kids and the other counselors, not just for being Spider-Man, but for his boyish good looks and his kind heart. He was much more popular than Harry, who kept to himself and was strict when everyone else was busy playing favorites. Harry didn’t have favorites. Well, maybe Gwen, but that didn’t count.

So, the thought that perhaps, maybe, possibly, Peter had brought a girl back to their cabin while Harry was out getting drunk with Gwen on Counselors’ Night Off™ wasn’t all that surprising. But it sure as hell hurt.

Harry stared at the socks for a moment longer, before picking them up and throwing them onto Peter’s bed. There would be words. There would be words about how utterly inappropriate it was to date other counselors-

Well, other counselors that weren’t Harry.

-during camp, and how it would set a bad example for the kids if Peter just flung himself around with all the female counselors like some wanton whore.

Er- perhaps not like a wanton whore, because Harry supposed it wasn’t possible for Peter to be anything near wanton or whorish. Maybe more like a supremely attractive male who was sexually active. 

Anyway. There would be words.

That was, if Harry could get up after throwing himself on his bed in anguish like some sort of Disney princess. 

——————————————————————————————————————————-

You see…

It was just that…

Well…

It hurt.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Harry spent the next two days in a state of complete and total denial of anything being wrong. At night, he rolled from side to side as Peter slept soundly, snoring into the otherwise silence of their cabin. In the day, he avoided seeing Peter, because socks and love and a whole litany of things Harry couldn’t think about if he was going to be running a summer camp. Gwendolyn had taken to giving him worried looks and speaking to the other counselors in Russian.

It was, obviously, better this way. Peter was never going to want Harry in the way that Harry wanted Peter. The evidence was in the- erm, well it was in the socks for lack of a better piece of evidence, but it was there. The only thing to do was move on. Moving on seemed plausible. Really it did. In another dimension, perhaps.

Peter must have noticed Harry’s avoidance of him because he walked around camp looking like a kicked puppy. He had taken to eating lunch with his fan club and staring at Harry with a pout for most of the activities, and Harry had to physically restrain himself most of the time from just hopping up and running over to kiss that sad look off of Peter’s face.

It was just the icing on the cake when he had seen Peter giving The Socks™ to Samantha, the red headed counselor who had the ability to fly after accidentally falling into one of her father’s experiments at age 10. Harry had always liked her- or tolerated her, at the very least, but he was beginning to rethink his opinion of her.

If Harry ignored it enough, maybe the pain of Peter hooking up with someone else in their cabin goddammit all would fade and he could finally just be happy with being friends with Peter. 

Of course, life at camp couldn’t go on in this fashion, and Gwen had cornered him in the canteen the third day, hands on her hips and lips pursed. 

“You can’t keep doing this,” she said without any preamble. Harry really shouldn’t have been scared of a 5’4” science geek, especially when he was Green Goblin. It didn’t stop him from taking a step back when Gwen reached for him.

“Keep doing what?” he asked innocently enough. Gwen slammed a hand on the wall next to Harry’s head, making him jump.

“You are making Peter miserable, and you are making yourself miserable and I won’t stand for it.”

Harry blanched, pushing Gwen’s arm away so he could move. “No.”

“What do you mean no? You can’t just say no to me!” But Gwen didn’t move forward anymore, instead cocking her hip and crossing her arms. 

"It’s time for me to move on,” Harry stated simply, running a hand over his polo shirt, “and I can’t very well do that if I don’t distance myself a little bit.”

“Oh, Harry,” Gwen said with compassion, “you have no idea, do you?”

“No idea about what, Gwen?” Harry turned away from her, burying a hand in his hair. “Trust me, I know. I know that Peter doesn’t love me and never will. I know that he’s been hooking up with Samantha in our cabin all this time.”

Gwen made a surprised noise at that. “What? That’s not… no, that can’t… he said…”

“Gwen, god, please, just shut up. For once just shut up.”

“No, Harry, listen-“

Harry whirled around, anger suddenly making his vision go red. He felt Goblin just under the surface, clawing his way out, wanting a fight. Harry raised his hand, as if to strike, and Gwen had him pinned against the wall in an instance, her foot locking Harry’s wrist in place. Wow, she was flexible.

“Wow, you’re flexible.”

Gwen snarled, actually, legitimately snarled. Harry was scared for his life. “You listen to me, Harry Osborn,” she said through clenched teeth, “you are going to talk to Peter Parker right the fuck now, so help me God, so that both of you can stop moping around and being idiots. I know 28 ways to torture a man with just a rubber band and don’t you dare think I won’t use all of them on you because I love you dearly. I’ll fucking do it.”

Harry dully noted that he would probably be turned on right at that moment if he wasn’t deathly afraid.

“That sounds kinky, but also scary,” Harry said for lack of anything witty to remark with.

Harry.”

“Fine, fine! Okay. I’ll talk to him,” Harry yelped when Gwen dug her foot into his wrist. “Jeeze.”

Gwen smiled and dropped her foot. “Good. That’s what I thought,” before skipping out of the canteen as if she hadn’t just threatened to murder Harry with a rubber band.

Harry sighed, chest tight, and slid down the wall. He buried his face in his hands. Peter.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

It wasn’t until a day later that Harry riled up the courage to go and speak to Peter. He had attempted to properly psyche himself up, thinking of all the different ways to apologize to Peter for ignoring him for three days, but everything came out sounding robotic and strange, and that wasn’t going to do Harry any good. In the end, it was decided that he would just walk up to Peter and act like nothing was amiss and hopefully Peter would be clueless enough to go along with it.

It was with a heavy heart that Harry set out to find Peter. Who was talking to Samantha. Great.

Harry scowled as he watched them from his hidden spot by the men’s shower. They were laughing about something. Probably socks. And sex. Sex socks. The man stealer actually had the audacity to be her hand on Peter’s arm. His arm! The arm that belonged to Harry, because all of Peter belonged to Harry. Not that… erm, not that she knew that. Or Peter knew that. Harry was giving himself a headache.

He brushed off his polo, making himself look presentable and not like he had been hiding in a bush by the men’s showers watching Peter flirt with that absolute skank of a girl. He strode up to them, exuding Osborn confidence and possibly sweating through his deodorant.

“Hey, buddy,” he said, wrapping an arm around Peter. Apparently, his brain had processed the fact that now he would actually be allowed to touch Peter, which he had stupidly deprived himself of for three days, and had decided it was a good idea to press Peter all along his side. It wasn’t. It was a horrible idea, but it was too late now, and maybe Samantha and Peter wouldn’t notice how badly he as blushing.

“Hi,” Peter sounded surprised and a bit awed. A giant grin spread across his face, making him look a little insane but also gorgeous.

“Oh,” Samantha suddenly exclaimed, completely ruining the moment. Harry could hit her. “I see. Well, I’ll talk to you about this later, Peter,” she gave Peter a wink, making him go red from his collar to his ears. Harry had never hated someone more in his life. They were probably going to talk about those socks some more. And then have sex. Sock sex.

Samantha smiled at them both, before taking a running start and flying away. Show off.

“Hi,” Peter said again, lamely, turning in Harry’s embrace so they were face to face. Peter was standing really close. Like, too close for Harry’s sanity close. Harry forced himself to let go of Peter, taking a step back. “I thought you were avoiding me.”

Harry scoffed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Yeah right. That would take energy out of actual important stuff. Like running this camp.”

Peter seemed to smile even wider, if that was at all possible, blinding Harry and making him fall in love even more. “Okay.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something else, probably something life changing and important, but Peter was already dragging him off to the Big Field™ to watch the water balloon fight.

Harry got a water balloon filled with red food coloring all over his crisp white polo, but it was worth it for the way Peter clutched his shoulder and tried to wipe it off with a napkin.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Did he say the downfall of Harry Osborn?

What he really meant was-

The start of the greatest summer of Harry’s life is this:

Peter Parker.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

After that, Peter and Harry seemed to morph back into their single troublemaking entity. Harry found himself with Peter underfoot more than usual, following him around and helping him with whatever tasks Harry deemed necessary. It was a bittersweet arrangement they had going on. It gave Harry an excuse to constantly have Peter around, touching him, cuddling him, teasing him, but it also left him wanting and aching and more in love than he had been at the beginning of summer, which he didn’t think was at all possible. Peter had become almost clingy, finding any reason to touch or tease or get into Harry’s space, and if Harry didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was flirting. The thought was exciting and made Harry’s chest tighten in hope, but it was also a beautiful and wonderful path that led to nowhere but Harry’s own heartbreak.

He had forced himself to look at the situation clinically. Peter was obviously just trying to make amends for whatever deluded reason he believed Harry had been ignoring him for three days. Peter was just being Peter: a good friend, if not a tactile flirt at the best of times. Harry wouldn’t allow himself to get his hopes up.

Still, it was unnerving the way Peter would scoot up next to Harry, all lean lines and whispered words. Gwendolyn had begun giving them smug looks whenever they were together and refused to tell Harry why. Peter just got sort of flustered and awkward, and wouldn’t look at Harry for long periods of time.

Another matter to consider was the fact that Samantha seemed to be just about everywhere. Now that Harry had a reason to acknowledge her existence outside of being a counselor, he had begun to notice the way she would give Peter pointed looks across the canteen, or make sly, sexual remarks every time she passed by Harry and Peter. It was annoying and made Goblin rile up under the surface. Peter seemed to find it equally awkward, because his eyes would cut to Harry every time she made a remark, as if sensing the jealousy permeating from Harry.

Harry had come up with a coping tactic in the form of conducting an origami class. Bucky was very excited to learn, which was how Harry ended up in the nursing tent after Bucky forgot he had a robotic arm and tried to high five him.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

As the summer came to a close, Harry found himself sinking into a deeper and deeper funk. The end of summer always brought on a fit of depression for Harry. He didn’t want to go back to the real world, that was for certain. It wasn’t like he could become a squatter, though, and wait at the camp until the next summer.

The world needed its heroes, and that included Peter and Harry and Gwen; and Oscorp needed its CEO, probably to mop up whatever disasters Felicia had managed to get their company in while Harry was gone. It was always with a cloudy mind that Harry packed the last week, because there was no guarantee with his dangerous lifestyle that he would even be alive the next year to come back to camp.

The only upside to the end of summer was the Goodbye Dance™, which was a sort of right of passage for the kids of Non-X. It was a way for the counselors to say good bye to the oldest of the camp goers, many of whom would be joining SHIELD that very fall. The Goodbye Dance™ was a bit like prom, only with less spiked punch and more superhumans.

Harry had always especially liked the dance because it gave him the chance to ogle Peter in a suit while avoiding Tony Stark who always wanted to talk shop. This year was different, though, when it had become abundantly clear that Samantha and Peter were going together. She had been hanging off of Peter like a limpet. An annoying limpet. And they had been talking things like color and flowers and dresses and it all made Harry’s head feel like exploding.

This was an obvious reason why Harry would not attend the dance. His head would explode if he did. Gwen just sighed when he told her, looking at him like he was a bit of an idiot which- excuse her, rude.

There was one thing, though. The handholding. Peter had held his hand.

It had all been in a sort of rush, but it had been there and it had been evident. In a fit of lunacy, obviously, Peter had grabbed Harry’s hand and swung it back and forth as they walked, looking excited and happy and talking a mile a minute. Harry wasn’t entirely sure what they had been talking about, because the skin to skin contact was making his brain foggy, but Peter had just looked so happy and adorable and the image was seared into Harry’s brain for eternity now.

It was possibly the best moment of his life. And that was including that time on his 20th birthday that a French supermodel jumped out of his cake.

He was getting excited about handolding.

He was obviously going insane.

——————————————————————————————————————————-

The night of the Goodbye Dance™ saw Harry sitting in his cabin, staring up at the ceiling. He had spent a good twenty minutes attempting to pack before his brain was assaulted with images of Peter and Samantha slow dancing, smiling happily at each other, wearing matching pairs of socks. Okay, maybe the sock thing was starting to get melodramatic but he felt it was an accurate metaphor for his unrequited love.

He was reveling in self pity, that was what he was doing, and he had long since admitted to himself that he was pathetic. He was playing Taylor Swift songs, for Christ sake, while burying his nose in Peter’s hoodie and inhaling his scent. He needed therapy. He would contact Dr. Banner in the morning.

He had sat there for a good hour before he heard a crash at the door. He sat up, eyes going wide as Peter panted at the doorway, looking delicious and disheveled in his suit and red tie.

He opened his mouth to explain the Taylor Swift and the hoodie, but Peter was faster than him. “You weren’t at the dance.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, leaning over to turn off the Taylor Swift. “Obviously.”

“Did I do something wrong?” Peter asked, sitting down on the bed. Harry’s brain was going into freeze mode, because Peter Parker was on his bed.

“What? No. Don’t be stupid,” Harry replied in a quick breath, scooting away from Peter so he could actually get some brain function.

“Oh, okay. I just thought… because sometimes you get mad at me for no reason.”

Harry blinked at him. “What are you talking about, Peter?”

“Ever since we started- ever since we got together after you ignored me, you get mad sometimes. Like when Sam is around.”

Harry was deeply confused. “I’m confused. Aren’t you dating Samantha?”

It was Peter’s turn to blink, his brow scrunching together adorably. “No. I’m dating you. Are you an idiot?”

They sat blinking at each other for a long moment. Harry felt his heart beating out a samba in his chest. He didn’t dare hope. “Are you drunk?”

“Are you drunk?” Peter bit back, crossing his arms. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“Peter, we really aren’t dating. I think I would have noticed if we were dating,” Harry placed a hand on his chest, trying to get his heart to calm down. Maybe he was having a very vivid wet dream and Peter was going to suddenly become naked and they would have wild sex. Or-

“Don’t be a dick, Harry! If you want to break up, just goddamn say it!”

-maybe not.

Peter was up, pacing back and forth. “I knew you were going to be difficult about this. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t know if you were comfortable about people knowing about us.”

“About what?” Harry was up too, pushing at Peter’s shoulder. “Peter, you’re confusing me!”

“Harry,” Peter was on him, hands grasping his shoulders, shaking him. Harry stared into his eyes and yeah, okay, who needed higher brain function anyway? “We’ve been going out for the past two weeks. We do everything together. I held your hand. I make you lunch. We cuddle.”

And then everything slid into place.

Oh.

“Oh.”

Peter made a face. “Oh.”

And then Harry kissed him, because apparently he could.

The next 30 seconds brought upon the greatest handjob of Harry Osborn’s life. It had been a while, okay?

——————————————————————————————————————————-

Here’s the thing.

Here’s.

Here’s the thing.

Peter.

His.

Always.