camp cherry | hs

thirty two

WE WERE ROBBED OF THIS FOR MONTHS

MONTHS

✩︎

HANA

I'm well aware of what I've gotten myself into by teasing Harry so cruelly for so long and I'm not sure I'm going to survive tonight. He's had his thinking face on for a while now - he plays with his lips and furrows his brows, sometimes the tip of his tongue peeks out between them adorably - and I know he's probably formulating a plan, maybe a list, for everything he was gonna do to me tonight, observing me whilst deciding how he's going to make my legs completely useless. And I'm fully intending on having him add to that list because I have no intention of stopping my behaviour.

Dinner is over, all my presents and 'happy birthday's received, the entire cake devoured in minutes, and most people are sat demurely around the campfire. Harry gently strums his guitar as everyone freely devours several s'mores.

"Song, Cherry?"

"Track eight?"

The melody of my selected song is mostly comprised of difficult riffs and a much smoother tone than some of his others which, if properly produced with added lyrics, would distinctively be pop songs rather than a little more alternative. Even from my first listen, I knew this song would remain one of my favourites.

He finishes the song with a lustful look my way, nodding his head to signal for me to go to his cabin, which I do so nervously after Ella wishes me good luck and tells me she loves me in case I don't make it out of tonight alive; she finds it very amusing whilst I definitely don't. Silently, I claim a seat on his unmade bed, anxious, however not regretting my actions at all, and wait impatiently for him to return.

He does so a few minutes later, opening and closing the door quietly and calmly switching off the light, plunging us into darkness as the curtains do a pretty good job of blocking the lamp outside his door.

I can hear him shuffling around for a while before he trails one finger across my shoulder and my entire body shudders at the sudden touch. I can barely hear anything, not even his breathing, blood rushing inside my head too loudly.

I hear his voice next to my ear clearly, though, "you're a fucking tease, Hana," his lowly spoken words strike a bout of shivers through my body, my legs slightly shaky with nerves and anticipation. "What was all that? Calling me daddy? Making me sit through dinner and wouldn't stop touching me? Think that's acceptable?" he continues, fingertips still trailing across my skin and raising goosebumps in their path.

"No, Harry," I breathe, remembering how he likes me to say his name.

I feel his breath tickling my skin right next to my ear, and his tone is short, "why'd you do it then?"

"Wanted you to fuck me harder."

"Yeah? Let me tell you something, I don't fuck teases. I tie them up and leave them dripping wet for hours. Are you wet, Hana?" he says forcefully, hand coming up to grip my chin firmly and tilt y head as if attempting to shake up an answer.

"Yes," I reply, trying to remain as level-headed and calm as I can in this situation. I feel him slink round to stand in front of me, his hold on my face travelling down to my neck where he squeezes harshly.