#although it's obviously not the first thing on anyone's minds

[lucagray813]

Solid Friendship

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1,071

Main Characters: Wukong, Macaque

Relationships: Macaque & Wukong, Could be interpreted as Shadowpeach

Summary: The Monkey King has a peculiar friend that only he can see - it's about time he did something about that.

Additional Tags: First meeting, pre-canon

CW: None

Link to AO3 Version

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It was a well known fact that the Monkey King was a peculiar character and as beloved as he was to his subjects even they couldn't understand all his eccentricities. For example, for as long as anyone could remember he had always had a habit of striking up one sided conversations with the shadows.

Many dismissed this as just his incessant need to talk and paid it no mind. Although if asked he would insist he wasn't talking to the shadows he was talking to whoever resided within them. If he could, he would have proven his conversations were not entirely one sided.

But his friend was apparently very shy, only warping the shadows to communicate when no-one else was around to see it. Or perhaps they were a bit of a trickster, like himself, and took great delight in having everyone think he was mad. They did have a strange sense of humour but still they made him laugh like no-one else.

They weren't always with him but all he needed to do was call for them and they would be there in an instant. In fact, he didn't even need to call, only the faintest whisper was required.

One day he sat with the sun behind him so his shadow was cast on the tall rock in front of him as he mused over his mysterious friend. Despite how little he knew about them he loved them dearly - they were his loyalist companion, his most trustworthy confidant and critically were able to keep up on all of his adventures.

He called out to them and in a heartbeat his shadow had warped ever so slightly to have eyes and a mouth - one of his friend's favourite tricks.

He wasted no time, "I have a question, Shadow. Are you always like this?" He gestured to his curious shadow before waving a hand down his body, "Or do you have a body like this somewhere? Or, not exactly like mine but you get what I'm saying."

The shadow shook its head.

"No, you're not always like this or no, you don't have a body? Oh right, one question at a time! Do you have a body?"

Negative.

"Don't you want one?"

They tilted their head as if they didn't understand.

He tried to explain, "Well, think of all the things you'd be able to do if you had a body! Swinging through trees, eating fruit, feeling the summer sun, having your fur groomed - you can't do any of that right now, right?"

Negative.

"You're missing out on so much stuff hanging out in the shadows! Just think of the adventures we could go on if you were out here with me! Then you wouldn't have to get all upset when you can't help."

He thought they looked tempted but inevitably they shrugged as if to say "what can you do".

He stood abruptly and held out a hand, "Well obviously you just have to come out! C'mon, take my hand!"

They frowned and while they were clearly trying to do something in response to his impossible request, all they could do was make the shadows cast on his hands a little darker. They shook their head hopelessly but he wasn't deterred.

He placed a hand on his shadow, "Don't worry, I'll help! We just need to meet in the middle! You think solid thoughts and I'll do the opposite - and once I've got your hand I'll pull you out!"

Despite their doubtful expression they did seem to be concentrating hard on where his hand lay on the rock. He made sure to focus just as intently and after a moment he felt his hand sink ever so slightly and he laughed joyously, "We're doing it! C'mon, keep going! Grab my hand!"

While whatever touched his hand in response could scarcely be described as solid, it was with certainty that he firmly grasped it and pulled. Something was definitely emerging and it glowed a vivid violet. Victory no doubt at hand he squeezed his eyes shut and focused on pulling it with all of his might.

He was unprepared for his success to have him stumble backwards and tumble to the ground but any aches or pains were quickly forgotten as he looked up to see a bewildered monkey standing before him.

He jumped up, excitement coursing through him as he exclaimed, "You look like me!"

His friend seemed to still be trying to come to grips with the fact he now had a solid form, he stared fascinated at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them. He started moving various joints as if to check what they did and then he said, "I have a body...?"

His hands flew to his mouth, "I have a voice!"

He looked at the Monkey King with awe and wonder and it was an expression that he would never get tired of having directed at him. He grinned widely, "You sure do! You got a name to go with them?"

"A name...? I... No?"

He started to circle his friend, picking up his arms, pulling lightly at his tail and redirecting his head so he could look at him at all angles before he took a step back and proudly declared, "Your name is the Six Eared Macaque."

The Six Eared Macaque simply blinked at him for a moment before he brought his hands to the sides of his head and looked shocked to feel he indeed had six ears, "Why do I...?"

With confidence he responded, "All the better to hear me with, obviously!"

He didn't give the Six Eared Macaque any more time to process his new existence and happily grabbed his arm intent on showing him everything he could do now he had a body. Only to stop as the other stumbled over his own feet.

He laughed, "You're like a new born deer! C'mon! You just need practice! Here!"

He ducked under one of his arms and held him up, "Just one foot after the other! Yeah, that's it!"

His friend just couldn't seem to be able to believe what was happening, "I have a body..."

"I know! Oh, we are going to get into so much trouble together! Well, once you've figured out how to walk that is! Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know! Ah, this is going to be great!"

[henryvell]

world's wackiest waltz

[inbarfink]

When talking about the distinction between Simon Petrikov and the Ice King,  it’s important to remember that originally, the Crown wasn’t trying to turn Simon into Ice King -

It was trying to turn him into this guy.

At the time, the Ice Crown - or rather the Wishing Crown - was programmed with Gunther’s wish to become Evergreen. So everything related to making the current wearer like Evergreen is a very direct result of the Crown’s Magic. The physical changes -

And the obsession with the name ‘Gunther’ -

And maybe some of the irritability and anger issues -

That is something the Crown is very directly forcing unto its current wielder. 

But everything else?

Ice King, personality-wise, was not much like Evergreen at all, or even like Gunther's view of him. And Ice Finn of the Farmworld Universe was also pretty different from the both of them.

At the time, I remember people assumed Ice Finn’s behavior is more indicative of what the Crown is actually trying to do with its wielders. That Ice King is so different because of Simon’s subconscious resistance against the Crown - while Finn’s much younger and dumber brain is a lot susceptible to the Curse’s influence to become some sort of mad world-conquering emperor of ice and snow. 

But, with the context of the Crown’s actual backstory. That doesn’t seem very likely anymore. I think what’s actually happening there is that the Crown is just trying to make its wielder an Ice Wizard on par with Evergreen (who was the Actual Goddam Ice Elemental) and that means pumping the wielder’s brain so full of Magic, Madness and Sadness to a level that is bound to overwhelm anyone.

And Simon’s and Farmworld Finn’s very different behaviors after putting on the crown is indicative, more than anything, of how their psyche reacts to Madness and Sadness in general. You know, Finn has a very proactive and kinda aggressive personality - and you add Crown-induced-Madness-and-Sadness and a compulsion to use Ice Magic as much as possible and you get all of…. this 

Meanwhile, for Simon, the compulsions of the Crown originally filtered exclusively via the language of protection 

As his madness always manifested as romantic obsession 

And using goofy humor to try and deny the pain he’s going through 

Because that’s how Simon’s mind specifically reacts to being flooded with so much Madness and Sadness.

That’s why there’s so many parallels between Ice King and the sort of mistakes and screwed-up stuff Simon does right now! He’s even kidnapping people again!

Because the Madness and Sadness of Ice King might’ve been induced by the Crown, but now Simon has plenty of personal home-grown Madness and Sadness inside him - and it’s no surprise that Curse-Induced or not, his mind reacts to it in a sorta-similar way. (Although obviously not as intensely, again, there was a LOT of MMS in the Ice Crown).

Now as for Ice Thing, and the fact that he seems to be actually rather well-adjusted under effects of his version of the Wishing Crown. I mean... not by the time of the 1000+ Era, but that’s literally eons in the future and also maybe more Gibbon’s fault. Even if the Crown will eventually take some sort of toll on him, for now he seems to be doing pretty well considering his wish. I mean, there's still some sort of Loss of Identity stuff going on

But everything we've seen of Ice Thing (in the present day, at least) shows him as a friendly and cheerful individual that gets along well with others. A far cry from how maladjusted every single wielder of the Ice Crown acted.

At the very least, if there's any notable amount of Sadness in him, we really haven't seen it yet.

There might be several factors here:

First things first, I should acknowledge the possibility that it’s just that Orgalorg’s eldritch brain is better at intaking all that MMS juice. That could play a part, but I think it’s probably more important, at least thematically, to look at the distinction between ‘I wish to be Evergreen’ and ‘I wish to be Ice King’. 

First in the sense that while Ice King was occasionally mean to Gunter at times - he was generally much kinder than Evergreen ever was for ‘his’ Gunther. So, like, pretty much the one Personality Flaw of Ice King that you can directly link to the Ice Crown’s attempt to mimic Evergreen is the occasional anger issues.

And how they relate to Gunther’s view of Evergreen, so grumpy and controlling and constantly saying ‘NO!’

(Both Finn and Simon’s demonstrable not-crown-induced trauma responses can make them pretty short-tempered as well. So I’m not going to say this is purely the effects of the Crown. It still probably plays some sort of factor at why the wielder of the Ice Crown is Like That).

And that is not a factor in how Gunter views Ice King. For him, Ice King was a doting and loving father figure - so if the Crown was ever trying to implement any sort of specific negative personality traits, this is absolutely no longer a factor. Because the original Ice Crown was a reflection of Evergreen’s abuse, and now Ice Thing is a reflection of Ice King’s fatherly love.

Which is, itself, probably an echo or remnant of Simon’s own strong parental instincts. 

Secondly, while the Crown was trying to make the Ice King just as powerful as Evergreen…. Ice King was obviously not as powerful as Evergreen. Because he was already a second-rate copy of the Ice Elemental’s power, and because Ice King was often just too doofy to use his powers correctly and probably because some remnant of Simon’s original sensible self is subconsciously holding his powers back.

Either way, being ‘like Ice King’ as Gunter sees him requires less Magic than being ‘like Evergreen’ as Gunther saw him - and therefore less Madness and Sadness. Leading to the wearer or, um, the eater being a lot more well-adjusted from the get-go.

And I think that the implication that Ice Thing has fused with the Crown, so there's never going to be another poor sap who puts on the Crown and gets Ice King'd. But if there is one somehow... at least the process is going to be less mentally detrimental that time around?

Maybe one day Simon could look back and appreciate how much he (or Ice King, or both of them, or however you want to look at the situation) is responsible for basically neutralizing the Crown that ruined his life in the first place.

[priniya]

🌌 TOO MANY NIGHTS

synopsis. theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with matt’s little sister to not make her his girlfriend.

notes. theodore nott x riddle!reader. reader is a hufflepuff! pls, let’s pretend you’re 12 when u get to hogwarts xoxo, just for the plot

theodore nott had always been fascinated by how many differences there were between his best friend mattheo and mattheo’s younger sister. while mattheo wanted to fight anyone, who just scrunched their nose at him, you would rather have your nose broken, so the other person wouldn’t have to go through that pain. while mattheo could be consider as the grumpy (their oldest sibling obviously being the grumpier), you held the tilte of the sunshine.

theo believed it suited you. ever since the three of you were kids, mattheo had his best friend grow protective of you in the same way he had, looking out for you even if you didn’t want it. however, whenever it was nott making your blood boil with some nonsense — you couldn’t get as mad at him as you’d get at your brother. it’s because he’s not my brother, he’s theo, you’d always tell yourself. the truth was that as much as you wanted, you could never be angry with him.

the same thing continued when you started hogwarts. although, you could feel the shifting of your friendship with theo. maybe it all started to happen, because you were growing up, or maybe it was meant to be like that. anyways — you found yourself dreaming of your childhood friend in situations… that made you blush profusely whenever you walked passed him. it was complicating things so much you tried to push it aside, nevertheless to no avail.

“you like him.” a friend of yours joked, when you confessed your thoughts about theo, and… even if gabriela said it in a joking way, you couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.

turns out, she was.

it was all revealed, when another older friend of yours asked you out to the yule ball, and you had to watch theo having fun with daphne greengrass as well as their own group of friends that you weren’t a part of. did it sting? like hell. should’ve you expected it? absolutely. some would say — you should wait for the moment, when he asks you to the ball, but you knew you were just matt’s little sister in his eyes. a mere childhood friend he used to play with when he was younger, though all that ended the second he (and your brother) got his letter, from this moment on theodore nott was a serious, adult man.

few years later, when the slytherins were throwing a party in celebration of mattheo’s eighteen birthday, as his sister, you got an invitation. as much as you loved your brother, you definitely weren’t a big party person — you’d rather spend your time in the smaller group of people, chilling to the muggle music and maybe get high. nonetheless, it was your sibling’s birthday and you wouldn’t hear the end of it if you didn’t show up.

to be fair, matt’s celebration was one of the first slytherin parties you ever attended, and from all the rumors coating its mysterious aura, your expectations were pretty high.

gabriela, the friend of yours, whom you confided in having a small crush on theo, apparently never forgotten that conversation and decided to ‘spice your night a tad’, her exact words. she lent you a fitted, emerald, silky dress that ended slightly above your knee, she did your make up and gave a nose kiss for good luck.

for the first two and a half hour of the party, you couldn’t really catch a glimpse of the boy you were looking for, so your attention were turned towards plan b, which was getting wasted — and maybe meeting someone to get your brother’s best friend off your mind. so as i said, two and a half hour later, you were much more eccentric, bubbly, and definitely more ray of sunshine, caused by the loads of alcohol you put in yourself.

“teddy!” you exclaimed with a grin as you swiftly made your way towards where he was sitting in the corner of the room. a cigarette in his hand, few of his first buttons undone, a smirk lingering on his lips, although it was gone the second he saw you, being replaced with a genuine, but almost unnoticeable smile.

“riddle.” he replied. the corners of his lips went slightly upwards as your hands were wrapped around him, right after you plopped down on the couch next to him. “drunk?” theo asked, his head tilted to the side to get a better view of your flushed face.

“never.” a giggle slipped past your lips. you leaned more on him, serving him another one of your charming beams. “can i have a hypothetical question?”

“hypothetical?” he echoed your words, suppressing a laugh in attempt to not hurt your drunken feelings. “sure, riddle. go on.” nott added upon seing you nod your head.

“could you give me one of your cigarettes?” you grinned once again, putting all effort into a pleading puppy expression you thought you’ve mastered. his answers made you uncertain about your manipulation/daddy’s girl skills.

once again, theodore fought back a chuckle, putting on a teasing smirk. “no.”

“teddy!”

“what? wasn’t it hypothetical?” he snickered, watching you groan theatrically, lowering yourself on the green sofa. it took him a moment to ease your needs and pull out a package of muggle cigarettes that made you raise your eyebrow in curiosity at him. “they’re the best, believe me.” he mumbled with a cigarette in between his lips.

soon after, he tugged you closer after having looked around to see if mattheo was out of sight. as soon as his nerves were settled and your brother was nowhere to be found, theo’s fingers were wrapped around the lighter he bought in second year. the asshole he was, it felt like he was lighting it up for so long you were about to turn eighty. his gaze was instantly focused on your eyes. butterflies were slowly erupting in your stomach with each second he slacked off to light it.

somehow, you two parted your ways few minutes later, ending the sparkling moment between you two with a quick and rash kiss on nott’s cheek, a little too close to his lips for your brother’s liking, too far for yours.

although, the separation didn’t last too long. at least for him, because, when you met him again, you were drunk out of your mind, giggling at every single word someone said to you. good thing theo’s gut feeling told him to look after you.

you were stumbling over your own feet, stuttering at easiest words until you finally landed in paradise— or just his arms. accidentally, but you could cross it out from your checklist, not that you had one.

“hiya.” a soft smile made its way onto your face as he tightened the grip on your waist, not because you smiled so charmingly at him, but also because some older dudes that occupied his previous spot was busy undressing you with their eyes.

if you weren’t mattheo’s little sister, he’d probably try to get you to agree to have a quick round in his round, hell — maybe not even that quick, he could spend an entire night with a girl like you. unfortunately, the reality was different. he could never take an advantage of you, you were too… you and theodore nott liked that too much to just… ruin it.

“what’re you doing?” you asked, frowning as he picked you up and turned towards the staircase. “teddy– put me down, please.” the words left your lips in a slurred manner, but theodore didn’t budge, not even once.

the teenager obeyed your request the moment he walked through the door to his dormitory that was shared with mattheo. theodore sat you on his bed, his green eyes scanning your face intently, while you stiffled a laughter. as a result, you got a confused expression from him. “what?” he asked.

“you’re so pretty.” a soft mumble left your mouth. it had always been hard to catch theodore nott off guard, mostly because he was an intelligent and cunning person, who always noticed the bigger picture, predict the intentions before someone even opened their mouth, yet you did it. if your mind wasn’t so clouded with alcohol, you’d count it as a small win.

anyway, theo didn’t let your words get too much of a hold on him as he silently continued to undress you. as wrong as it sounds, he was doing you a simple favour — nott wanted to bring you comfort and safety, so he dragged you to his dorm and began unzipping your dress, leaving you in your underwear.

it took the boy all the possible strength he had in himself to control all the urges he just felt. it would be so wrong if he got hard just from the mere sight of the goddess sitting in front of him, with pouty lips and a baffled expression caused by his lack of response to her compliment.

“teddy?” you tried getting his attention once again, involuntarily scrapping off the polish of your nails as your eyes rested on his back, watching him shuffle through his closet to find you a comfortable pyjama.

to be fair, theo absolutely loathed the nickname. teddy reminded him of a child he used to be, a child with a loving mother, who would always call him that exact nickname. it wasn’t too much of a hassle, because no one called him that — until you did and it seemed like you couldn’t get rid of it from your vocabulary. somehow, it never bugged him when you did it. the way ‘teddy’ rolled off your tongue always gave him some sort of warm feeling in his stomach.

“mm?” your brother’s best friend muttered, his back still facing you. seconds later, he’s again in front of you, nudging you yet so slightly, so you put your hands above your head. “what is it, y/n/n?” he used the nickname you haven’t heard in a while, causing a literal war in your abdomen.

“could you kiss me?” for barely a second, his brain stopped functioning. he stopped in his tracks, oversized t–shirt still in his hands, all that until he decided to spare your embarrassment the next day and acted like he didn’t just hear what he heard. he was foolish for thinking that a sight of you almost naked and not getting a hard–on was the worst part of his night. now, theodore’s brain was filled with images of you two making out, and… it’s tough.

wordlessly, he finally put the shirt on you, nudging you afterwards, worry was still vividly lingering on his face as he watched you getting comfortable. “i’ll be right here.” nott murmured, grabbing a pillow, laying down on the floor. theo on one side of his bed, the bucket he brought you in case throwing up on the other.

both of you knew that he could go back downstairs, maybe even hook–up with some girl and spend the night at her dorm, just like mattheo did. nevertheless, he stayed there right with you.

it was further in the night, when you woke up and noticed that he still occupied his spot on the floor next to the bed. a pang of guilt hit you (as well as the pounding in your head) as you stared at his peaceful state.

merlin, theodore faustus nott was today times’ adonis and you felt like you could just spend the rest of the night gawking at how insanely beautiful he was. you could barely resist the urge to run your hand through his dark curls.

“you know i can feel you’re staring, riddle?” theo chuckled with his eyes still closed. shit. at least it was dark enough, so he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. “somethin’ bothering you?” he asked, giving you a concerned look.

“sleep on the bed, please?” you pleaded. he was about to refuse, when you continued. “i know you don’t want to kiss me, but it breaks my heart seeing you suffer there, when there’s enough room for two people here.” the words coming out of your mouth are quiet. the embarrassment and absurdity of this whole situation got to you — if you just didn’t ask him to kiss you, he’d probably sleep in the bed with you, but you obviously had to ruin it.

“y/n/n, i want to kiss you.” he said, his tone matching yours. “but i can’t, you know it. mattheo would kill me the second he knew.” theo knew he shouldn’t but the urge was too great to resist, so he placed his hands on your knees, reducing the distance between the two of you.

“matt doesn’t have to know.” a whispers left your lips as you leaned an inch closer, brushing the tip of your nose against theo’s. “teddy, please.” you pleaded, staring at him with urgency in your eyes.

it took theodore half a second to consider his options. he could’ve refused and regret it afterwards, but stay alive or he could’ve just kissed you and maybe get into a heated argument with mattheo. so… a voice in his head said fuck it and kissed you with all those feelings he’s had in him.

you could feel your entire world stop the second his lips fell on yours with urgency and passion. it was all you ever dreamed of, he was the guy who was your last thought before sleep and the first after waking up. a silly, childhood crush that developed over the years into… something you couldn’t describe. theodore nott had you wrapped around his finger without even knowing it — if he asked you to jump into a fire pit for a longing glance, you wouldn’t think about it twice and jump.

your fingers were tangled in his curls as he, without breaking the kiss, leaned more towards you, until your back hit the fabric of his sheets. to be completely honest, you felt like your stomach was about to be ripped apart just from the proximity between the two of you.

the kiss lasted way longer than you expected. it could’ve been hours, but you could never been sure. his lips were just inches apart, when he pulled away yet so slighty, letting out a groan as you nudged the tip of your nose again his.

“you don’t even know how much i wanted to do that.” his words were quiet. “matt will kill me, won’t he?” a low chuckle espaced his throat qs you let out a groan in response.

“could you stop mentioning my brother and just kiss me, nott?”

[vroomvro0mferrari]

LN4 | Panic at the Disco – Part 2

Summary: When you call your brother to pick you up from the club, it's his best friend who answers.

Lando Norris x Fewtrell!Reader

WC: 2.4K

Warnings: insinuated sexual harassment/assault

Part 1

Masterlist

Lando turns on the engine as you get settled in the haphazardly parked car. He glances at you while you move around in the seat, buckling your belt. He just now notices the streaks in your makeup, although you’d tried your best to wipe them away, and how your fingers can’t seem to keep still. They’re running along the belt before fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Lando reaches out and squeezes your hand gently. You meet his eyes, which are desperately trying to make contact with yours, and you shoot him a quick smile, one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Your behaviour makes it clear to Lando that you’re not okay yet. His joking around cheered you up, yes, but as soon as you’re out of his hold, you feel the same way as before.

Although the drive back is not as fast as Lando’s five-minute record time, it was quick. The faint hum of the engine and the music playing softly on the radio are the only sounds breaking the quiet as you stare blankly out of the window. Lando can’t seem to keep his gaze off you for longer than a second, his eyes constantly flitting between the road and your face, concern etched in his features. Your silence is highly unusual behaviour; normally, you can’t shut up, always ready to pick a fight with Lando over whatever topic comes to mind first. The fact that you’re not saying anything makes him worry. 

You know he’s onto you when you constantly feel the weight of his eyes on your face. It’s even more reason for you to keep your face as neutral as possible, to not show how much tonight has affected you, but it’s extremely difficult with all the thoughts racing through your mind. The silence in the car isn’t helping either, doing nothing to keep you distracted or to keep the thoughts at bay. You’re so glad that you got away from that man in time, that there were other people there to help you, and that Lando (although you would have preferred literally anyone else at that time) came to get you so quickly, but you can’t help but think what would have happened if those people hadn’t paid attention to you, or if you’d been stuck at the club for longer – would that man have come to find you? To finish what he started? The thoughts of what might have been, or what may still happen some other time in the future, freak you out and you’re sure Lando knows it. Regardless, he keeps quiet, unknowingly aggravating your inner turmoil. He’s waiting for you to initiate conversation instead, not wanting to say the wrong things and accidentally make it worse. He doesn’t know that, in your opinion, nothing he could say at his moment might be wrong; anything is better than the silence occupying the small space.

But you don’t tell him that, and so, Lando doesn’t say anything when you stay in your seat, still staring out of the window after he stops the car. He doesn’t say anything when he opens your door and offers his hand to help you out of the vehicle. He doesn’t say anything about the confused look on your face when you realise he’s no longer driving but instead standing next to you, or the fact that your hands haven’t stopped fiddling with the hem of your dress from the moment you stepped into the car. He keeps quiet until both of you are inside the apartment, not speaking until he’s closed the door. 

“You want some tea?” He asks nonchalantly. As if everything is normal, as it should be when it feels like nothing is.

You merely nod and follow Lando into the kitchen, passing your brother who’s passed out on the couch in the living room. He had obviously not missed Lando while he was gone.

You watch as Lando fills the glass kettle with water and turns it on. He leans against the counter, opposite you, as you wait for the water to boil. You stare at the kettle while Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. Although it’s not unusual for Lando to look at you, stare at you, even, the intention behind it seems different; Lando’s never been so serious or concerned. Usually, when he looks at you like this, you’ve gone a little too deep into a discussion again, and he’s too stubborn to back down. He’ll keep staring at you, forcing eye contact as a way to challenge you, although you suppose that’s exactly what he aims to do now. He’s trying to persuade you, as always, but not of his opinion this time; he’s trying to convince you to talk to him. He only proves you right when he relents, “You know you can talk to me right? About anything? You know I won’t judge you for whatever happened tonight?” He raises his eyebrows as he questions you.

The kettle turns off but Lando keeps his eyes on yours for a bit longer before making the tea. While he busies himself, you let his words sink in. Even though you haven’t always gotten along well, he can read you like an expert. You know exactly what he’s searching for, that he wants to know the details you haven’t given him – because he knows you haven’t told him everything. But you’re not ready to. 

Lando hands you one of the mugs he’s holding. You take it with both hands, in the hope of warming up a little, while you gently blow on the tea to cool it to a drinkable temperature. 

“I know, Lan. It’s just… I don’t know, it’s been a rough night, and really, I don’t want to think about it anymore.” You admit, looking up through your lashes to find Lando already staring at you, again.

Lando accepts the response and nods. At least now you know how he feels about it – if you didn’t already. He inhales deeply before pushing off the counter and walking to the living room. “You coming?” He asks softly before heading off.

You follow, of course. Lando stares at the couch, occupied by your brother who’s snoring obnoxiously loud. He had already forgotten about the sleeping man completely blocking all the seating. He sips his tea while thinking. “So this is obviously not going to work,” He chuckles and you join him, “let’s just go to bed? It’s already pretty late anyway, and I’m sure you’re very tired.” 

You nod, agreeing with his suggestion, “I could definitely use some sleep.”

“Alright, you can stay in the guest room. I guess you’re lucky Max’s asleep on the couch. Otherwise, it would’ve been a bit difficult. I only have one extra bedroom.” Lando tells you while leading the way to the room.

“Lucky after all.” You say, sipping your tea.

“This is yours for tonight, then.” He opens the door for you and lets you enter the room first. You carefully put your mug on a dresser and quickly kick off your shoes before letting yourself fall face-first onto the plush-looking bed. Lando watches from the door opening, leaning casually against the doorpost as he watches you cuddle into the duvet.

“I was worried about you tonight.” He admits after a moment of silence. You twist your body and turn your face so you can see him, but you keep quiet. You’re a little surprised at his confession. Of course, you’re friends (sort of, at least) and he did come to save you tonight, but you weren’t expecting him to tell you so blatantly. Although, you, too, would be worried about Lando if something happened to him or if he called you upset. 

“You sounded so freaked out on the phone, it seriously stressed me out. I’ve never heard you so upset.”

You push yourself up, fully facing him, now. You’re not sure how to respond to something like this. You want to apologise, but Lando continues before you can.

“I… I know maybe I don’t show it so much – or at least, I think I haven’t made it clear to you – but, I care about you, a lot.” 

You smile at his admission.

“Sometimes I think maybe I care about you too much. Too much for just being friends, at least.” He avoids your eyes while he says it, seemingly shrinking into himself as if he’s afraid of your reaction. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Lando shy like this. He’s always full of energy, extraverted and definitely not afraid to look you in the eyes. Hell, less than half an hour ago he was staring at you so intensely you were unable to look away. The highly unusual behaviour completely throws you off. But you imagine not saying anything will only make him more shy.

“Can you hand me my tea?” You finally ask him.

Lando stares at the ground a second longer. The only thought running through his head is how much he probably just screwed up your friendship, and possibly the one with your older brother, too. Seeing his reaction to your question, all you can think about is how what you just said was probably worse than saying nothing. He (sort of) admitted that he likes you, and you ask him to hand you your tea? What kind of person does that? Nevertheless, Lando walks into the room and grabs the mug off the dresser.

You get up on your knees while he moves closer to the bed. You don’t only grab your mug, but his as well once he gets close enough, and place them onto the bedside table next to you. Lando finally meets your eyes when your hands touch, the confidence and mischief usually apparent in his eyes replaced by vulnerability and honesty. You’re certain Lando can read the emotions showing on your face just as effortlessly as you can his, if not even more so. You feel uncertain and at a loss for words at the unfamiliar glance in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, that was stupid. I just… I don’t know what to say,” You finally admit, breaking the heavy silence in the room. 

Lando’s lips curve into a hesitant smile and his eyes soften as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “You don’t have to say anything,” He murmurs, gaze locked on his own hand moving along the side of your face as he pushes the hair back. You nearly melt at the sweet (or is it enamoured?) expression on his face as he looks at you – as if you’re the most precious thing in this world. Not to mention how close you are to each other right now.

“I want to say something though,” You whisper back, eyebrows furrowed and teeth nibbling on your bottom lip as you think of what to say.

“I care about you too, you know? A lot, also too much for a friend of my brother’s or just a friend, I think.”

A bigger smile spreads across Lando’s face at your confession, unbelievably happy to know you feel the same way as him. He moves his hand back to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheekbone softly, admiringly.

“I know this is probably really bad timing, with everything that happened tonight-”

“Please don’t mention it, I don’t want to think about it.” You breathe out, interrupting Lando.

“-but can I please kiss you?” He asks, moving his face a tiny bit closer to yours.

You nod quickly, without thinking. It’s like a reflex, like you need Lando to kiss you. Although you’ve been trying all night to forget about what transpired earlier, you can’t ignore or forget the way Lando made you feel when he held you, and how much you need to feel it again. He made you feel safe, protected and loved. No one has ever made you feel that way to such an extent, not your closest friends, your brother, or even your parents. If someone had told you yesterday that you felt the need to be kissed by Lando, you would have laughed in their face, but now, it was the only thing on your mind.

Lando leans in closer, drawing you near with the hand on your cheek. You brush your fingers along his face, tracing his jawline as his lips finally meet yours. He tenderly strokes your face before he moves his hand to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, while the other rests on your waist. You feel his eyelashes tickle your skin when he pulls you even closer, and it makes you feel so good. It feels so good to have someone who cares about you so much that they’d come in the middle of the night to save you, to make you feel safe and comfortable as soon as they touch you. You’re completely lost in the feeling Lando gives you, and the thought that you could have experienced this so much sooner if you hadn’t been so busy fighting with him.

Your lips move against his slowly while he holds you close. The butterflies in your stomach flutter when you feel his chest pressed to yours. Throwing your arms over his shoulders, you run your hands through his hair. Softly, you pull on his curls, revelling in the sensation of his kiss before you pull away. His lips look red and swollen when you open your eyes and you bite your lip at the sight. You admire his face, his mischievous smile, and the loving gaze with which he looks at you, and you’re sure you have to look the same way.

Your hands have moved down to Lando’s shoulders when you ask him, “You’ll stay with me?”

He squeezes your waist gently and kisses your forehead before murmuring, “Of course, anytime you want me to.”

You give him a quick kiss, which earns a smile in return, before pulling Lando onto the bed. He gets settled before you do, opening up his arms so you can cuddle into him. You scooch closer and nestle your face in the crook of his neck, closing your eyes and sighing softly once you’re comfortable. He pulls you closer to his body, holding you tight, before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“Thank you, for tonight.” You whisper.

Lando pulls you just a little tighter, and mumbles sleepily “I’ll always come when you call, love.”

You smile, pleased with his answer before you drift off to sleep together, cosily snuggled up.

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby [part 2]

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution: NOT PROOFREAD oh and angst hehe]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

[tags: @luujjvi @c-lunette @mokisano @ghostdoodlen @wildfire153 @anonymousewrites @bewitchedbymadness @thisbitchreallyneedssleep @22carolina08 @original-person]

[remember if you want to keep in touch with a particular series I write, let me know in comments or messages you want to be tagged! you will only be tagged once unless specified that you want to be tagged till the end of a particular series!]

(also once again, apologies if alastor’s last name isn’t actually altruist qwq it’ll stick till the end of this fic but I’ll try not to mention it as much)

For the first time in years, you feared being in heaven.

Not that you felt unsafe, just that you felt incredibly uncomfortable seeing your serial killer dad who's now a demon be invited to be in the place where light and goodness is it's main foundation.. even reassuring yourself that it was temporary didn't calm you down when you were flying away from him. For your own sake you even avoided where the welcoming was happening.

Ahh but.. it also didn't help that he was following you around after the show without you knowing.

After the angels had performed their song to welcome in the princess of hell, her apparent partner, and-- him.. everyone sort of went their separate ways and the visitors from below started to relax in their new yet temporary places of stay. You felt a bit of relief when you assumed Alastor would also be setting himself in to relax as well.

During heaven's performance you decided to take a breather at a local coffee shop, one where you thankfully always had a spot there where you could hide away from the huge windows of the cafe.

Although right after that, unbeknownst to you at the time, Alastor was looking for you, but obviously pretended as if he was looking for a good bite to eat.. unfortunately for him he had to behave and he couldn't eat a living walking thing until after they came back home.

Oh how bummed out he was.

You were in a far corner inside the shop, as mentioned before anyone that was able to look in through the windows wouldn't be able to see you since you were out of view. Drinking your favorite beverage that the shop offered and eating a filling snack to relax your body and mind. Safe to say you were now more in touch with your feelings and weren't overly panicked as you once were.

'Why is he here.. is he an advisor to the princess? a companion?.. some kind of servant?.. she's really young though, perhaps she's ward to him or something.. but she has her.. dad.. and I'm sure he must be alive still.. ' You thought, different theories and ideas passing by in and out your head trying to make sense of the situation.

'perhaps.. he's here to see me?..' you hoped, then scolded yourself right after,

'nono.. I can't be wanting that.. sure he raised you but he's a monster. he killed you, _____. get a grip..' you sighed deeply while massaging your temples in frustration 'even if he seemed to not.. have meant to do that. he tried to kill someone else anyway, that poor man could've died instead of you.' you tried to reason with yourself, coming to a single conclusion in the end.

Eyes glued to your drink. staring at it with intensity.

"I regret nothing." you claimed to yourself in a low mumble, not enough for anyone close to hear.

Ahh.. but you did miss him very much.. the version of him that you grew up with at least.

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You were in your warm and humble home with your father. It was a fairly cold night with rain dropping onto the roof of your home yet the warmth of the house seemed to make the cold seem almost cozy to you.

Your small footsteps could be heard running around the house, as your little seven year old self ran around you seemed to be giggling uncontrollably with a peculiar circular item in your hand.

"No running in the house _____, remember what I told you." Alastor exclaimed in slight irritation as he could hear you from afar while he was cleaning up the table from the dinner you two just had, he started slightly missing the times when you didn't know how to walk and when you simply just blabbered baby nonsense.. he definitely doesn't miss the sleepless nights of baby crying though.

You huffed and puffed as you then plopped the item on the sofa, it was a disk, a record. You then climbed yourself up and once your little body landed on the cushions you then picked yourself up once more to then grab the disk and turn to the small table right beside the sofa where a large phonograph rested on.

"Papa!" you exclaimed, "Papa! Music music!.." you pleaded, your little voice begging to once again turn on the music playing machine.

Alastor faintly chuckled at your little demands, amusing how such a small thing dares to command but nonetheless he found it silly at how you tried. "Yes yes my dear, I'll be right there." He then set the last few dirty dishes away to be cleaned soon since he couldn't say no to listening to some tunes before bed.

You smiled brightly as your little feet playfully tapped on the cushions, almost jumping. Noticing your developing excitement Alastor hurried over to you.

"Ah-ah-ahh, no jumping on the sofa my dear. I'm excited as well but I can't have you break your little head open, that'd be no fun at all!" Well.. that and he didn't wanna ruin his cushions, but nonetheless he cared for your wellbeing the most even if he wasn't fond of admitting it.

His hands gently took the disk from your hands, carefully setting the disk on the phonograph to have it play your favorite tunes. Once you two heard the amazing first few notes of jazz was when Alastor settled down beside you on the sofa and you started clapping in delight.

Alastor looked at you almost fondly, letting out a small huff of delight at your reactions. Your innocence seemed to be something that contained him from wanting to continue his murder spree, although his bloodlust always wins in the end, he seems to always willingly pause his life for you.

Plus, he loves jazz just as much as you do.. why would he miss out on this?

Your fit of giggles dwindled down but didn't stop, in a sudden burst of energy you jumped off the sofa and then started dancing similarly yet obviously a bit more goofy to how you've seen couples and single dancers dance in the nights of Mardi Gras or just parties your father took you when he would be invited. Your little dance moves seemed to be fiddled with confidence yet they were so off from what you were trying to attempt, nonetheless you were happy, and that's what Alastor secretly liked to see.

"Dance with me papa dance with me!" you pleaded again, your smaller hands grabbing his larger one and tugging at it, trying to get him to stand up.

"_____ darling no tugging, besides I just sat down my dear and I'm exhausted." He sighed, his constant smile always present yet he was visibly a bit tired from the day he had.

But oh how you persisted, and how darn adorable you were as a kid. "But papaaa!.. pretty please! I wanna dance how you and that singing lady did the last time we went on those big loud places!"

"Parties, dear." he corrected you, but let out a long sigh and got up. Because no matter how tired he was or how annoyed he seemed to be he didn't mind keeping you happy.

So that's what he did, he danced with you. Swinging you, twirling you around to the melody and the beat, your cheers of glee and uncontrollable laughter motived him to keep up with your excitement. Not only that but your smile, genuine and pure, it was what he needed to get himself to match your energy. Jazz music was what always connected you two and it always brought you together no matter what.

At the end of the song Alastor ended it by gently throwing you up in the air and catching you, letting you get your last giggles out. You both laughed together, your bond ever growing stronger. You truly did tame this bloodthirsty killer without even trying or knowing, of course you were too young to know.

Once the giggle frenzy ended you both finished your dancing with a long sigh, the phonograph ending it's segment. You then suddenly yawned and rested your head in the crook of his neck over his shoulder, snuggling for warmth and for a sudden need to sleep.

"Seems like my little fawn needs sleep now, almost past your bedtime young lady." Normally he'd scold you a bit more strictly as he usually did, but seeing as how you were basically ready to fall into a pile of dreams he just felt no need to do that.

"Sorries papa.. I forgot.." your little words muffled by your face hidden in his neck.

Alastor was never one for being touched, let alone hugged or snuggled. Oh but he had no right to complain, he's had you this close since you were a baby.. to him this just felt normal now.

Of course no one but you could be this close to him, you're his little girl after all.

"No need to worry, my dear." He stopped in front of your bedroom, carefully opening the door with a creak following after. With careful footsteps he walked towards your bed, pulling the blanket away to then gently place you on your cozy sheets with care.

Alastor gently moved any misplaced hairs away from your face as he then pulled your soft and warm blanket up to your neck. Your sleeping face reassuring him.

"Sweet dreams sweetheart." His usual smile softening a bit more before backing away and slowly heading towards the door of your room, lingering for a few extra seconds to take one last look at you before slowly closing the door and heading off to bed himself.

After the click of the door closing can be heard, you mumbled "Goodnight papa.." with a smile, even if in the end Alastor didn't get to hear it.

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

You missed him, dearly.

A weight fell on your chest, your eyes begging to form tears. You missed when you had that childhood innocence, when you didn't know what he was capable of, when he was nothing but a saint to you.

It still hurt after all these years, you thought he was a good man.. a bit strict, blunt, a bit too true to himself and definitely peculiar but.. the Alastor that raised you would never do that. Until you were obviously proven otherwise.

Oh but I guess you were too into your reminiscing that you didn't notice the background gasps and small shrieks of surprise and fear, and you didn't yet feel the eventual stares and eerie presence right in front of you.

"What don't you regret, my dear?"

You choked on your drink in surprise almost spitting it out,

that fucking radio voice again.

For heaven's sake how did he find you?? He couldn't have seen you through the windows. Did he follow you??.. did you just not notice.. Oh geez maybe getting used to having your guard down during all your years in heaven definitely didn't help with this situation.

You continued coughing on your drink, even punching your chest a bit to get that last good cough out. The radio demon pulled the chair in front of you to sit across from you, not waiting to ask permission.

To him he didn't need to, he's your father after all.

Once you calmed down you immediately avoided eye contact, only giving him a once second glance to confirm it was him in hopes your ears were playing a trick on you-- they weren't.

"How.. how'd you find me.." you mumbled in slight fear.

"Oh how would I not! Sweetheart I'm your father of course, as your father I must have those parental instincts.. I always know where you are!" he exclaimed, seemingly proud of this.

"I'm guessing those 'parental instincts' didn't kick in when you stabbed me, huh." you spat with attitude, unafraid to be rude to him with so much sin he's committed.

A sharp static sound came from him, as if in slight shock at the disrespect and comeback you gave. "Watch the attitude young lady, you're still an Altruist you know."

You scoffed, hating at how indifferent you felt about your last name.

"Not by blood though.."

"I raised you, don't forget that." he spat back, starting to get irritated.

"And because of that I owe you?"

"Yes, yes indeed! Smart girl you are."

You scoffed at his response, finally getting the guts to look at him in the face. His appearance frightened you, disgusted you even.

Is this truly the man that raised you?

"As a matter of fact, I actually don't." you crossed your arms in annoyance and a huff. Your eyes couldn't help but to slowly drift to off to the people behind him and you see fellow angels you know continue to stare in awe or fear, of course at Alastor. With all eyes on you and mostly him it made you feel a little embarrassed. You cowered down a bit and your wings went over your head and shoulders a bit as if to hide you behind a 'curtain' of sorts.

Alastor obviously noticed this, but could care less about the stares.

You sighed, "Look, Alasto--"

"I think you mean to call me 'father'." he interrupted as he obviously seemed a bit sassy about it. "Even 'dad' is just simply fine and dandy with me!"

"No, I can't," you frowned, wishing you could "I won't. Not after what you did to me, to that man that night, and to every other poor soul you hurt."

Your face slowly scrunched up in disgust "You don't deserve my forgiveness, my mercy."

In embarrassment and feeling tears want to shed you grabbed your drink and got up to walk out, before you could get past Alastor though he grabbed your wrist harshly.

"Uh-- hey.. let go--"

"I didn't mean to do what I did, my dove." His voice turned into a weird version of gentle, almost uncharacteristically gentle. "I never intended to take your life away."

He sounded genuine.

Could he?.. Would he?..

Maybe, just maybe--

"No." you spat, "Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me, but you definitely meant to hurt others. That's something I can't forgive and I'm sure your victims wouldn't neither." you glared at him, setting your foot down. "I refuse to call you my father, not until I know that you repent for your sins but knowing you I highly doubt that." You snatched your wrist away and for a slight second you stopped caring about what others thought when they'd see this "Besides, you killed me two weeks after I turned eighteen.. don't even include the years that passed since the 30s and present time so clearly you can't control me anymore old man."

But Alastor wouldn't go down that fast nor easily.

His sharp smile widened, you felt immense dread.

"Oh little one, no matter how far you are or how much you try to disown me you are forever connected to me. I made you who you are and you can try to run and fly off however long you want but in the end you're tied to me whether you like it or not. Even in death."

He seemed deathly serious with his statements so much so that you could've sworn you could see his shadow giggling and smirking in a way that seemed even worse and more than evil.

Your breath quietly hitched in fear in noticing this to the point where it even forced you to take a step back. He let out a sinister chuckle before you couldn't help but speed out of the shop and flew out.

You couldn't handle him, he was shameless when showing this side of him.. how could he be this shameless and normal?? How could he act like this and be proud about it? He killed people and doesn't regret it, you being the only exception just didn't feel right and it wasn't fair!

Not to you.

He may have been able to silently control you and vaguely manipulate you to believe he was anything but a bad person back when you were alive and young but now your eyes are wide open and so is your heart.

You have such a bad feeling about this whole thing, he was up to no good he just couldn't be-- he had to be using the princess as an excuse to do something shitty.

Good thing you had plenty of connections, if you just played your cards right...

Hey.. wasn't there something about a court meeting happening soon?

On the other hand Alastor stayed sitting there still chucking devilishly, his intentions and true feelings smeared and unclear.

With a snap of his fingers a cup of black coffee appeared and he began drinking it with a sense of casual glee and eyes closed in delight. Until he felt eyes on him, two nearby to be exact. He opened one eye to look at the angels staring at him and they both seemed like more biblically accurate angels, both having one eye and all. The radio demon shot them an evil grin.

"Oh adolescents these days, rebellious aren't they." He cackled before going back to drinking his coffee, the angels creeped out by his interaction soon scurried away from him.

The fear. He enjoyed it, just not really from you.

(thank you all who asked for part 2!! of course I had to deliver since you all really wanted it and honestly I love adding flashbacks to memories Alastor and the reader had when they were alive, makes their ending on earth just that more painful (as if it wasn't clear I love angst). Honestly I don't mind making more parts for this! If the demand is consistent and you guys still want to keep up with it I have a few ideas to keep this going! Once again thank you so much for reading!! Now I must finish writing for other stories lolllll!)

(p.s: i highly recommend listening to any mitski song while reading this I think it fits well especially with the flashback scene hehe)

[angelltheninth]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do The Hazbin Cast x Reader, where they and Reader are having a romantic moment to themselves, and before anything more could happen, suddenly something or someone ruins the moment?

See... I both hate and love this trope. It's funny as hell, but frustrating as hell too.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Adam, Vox, Valentino x Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, interrupted romantic moment, canon typical violence, blood, suggestive, date night

A/N: I would punch anyone who interrupts me. And I'm not a violent person. So uh... these characters have an effect on me lmao.

Charlie acts very calm unless either or both of you is in any state of undress. There’s no one more affectionate than her, displaying that in front of others is fine with her, she wants others to know of her love for you. It’s a different thing if it’s in a more intimate setting where she expected to have alone time with you. With a deep breath, some blushing and a groan she would try to get rid of distractions as soon as possible but at the same time. she would apologize to whoever interrupted you for shooing them away.

Vaggie has a blade at hand and it is promptly thrown next to the head of whoever interrupted you. Deep down she is a huge romantic and enjoys being romanced a lot, on the surface she is a badass fighter and she had an image to uphold with many people. There’s a lot of yelling and cursing, probably more than one threat of killing someone before she is back by your side, grumbling and murmuring to herself about forgetting to lock the damn door.

Alastor threatens to tear apart anyone who interrupts you, he puts that out as a warning because of how many times it’s happened in the past and he’s grown tired of being in a middle of a dance or cuddling and someone barging in wanting something. Usually he’s the one who walks in without knocking, now he’s getting to see how it feels. It doesn’t feel good, a full record scratch, even his shadow looks pissed off at even the slightest interruption.

Lucifer is in good spirits recently so even something as an interrupted date doesn’t get under his skin, if it was before it would have been a different story. Right now wile a little annoyed he can forgive and forget, after all no one saw anything too scandalous, although some would say that seeing the King of Hell in handcuffs is pretty scandalous by itself. As long as this doesn’t happen again it will be fine, although he knows you will tease him for it later.

Angel Dust obviously doesn’t mind it too much, on the surface at least, he is a porn star so getting watched is part of the job. That’s in the studio at least, at the Hotel he has the privacy he never had before, he likes it a lot actually, it’s almost too good to be true. Maybe he will occasionally flirt with or tease who ever interrupted you but in these four walls he is all yours and he won’t let the mood be spoiled by anyone, including his boss.

Husk groans and pulls your face close to his neck to help you hide your flushed face from the onlooker. How is this so perfectly timed, right when he wanted to take your clothes off and have a bit of fun with you someone just had to walk in. Well they’re really lucky he’s not as powerful as he once was otherwise they would be splattered all over the walls right now and would have to put themselves together while he makes out with you.

Sir Pentious hides his face behind his hat the moment someone enters his bedroom and sees you on top of him. Damn it, he told his Egg Boiz to make sure no one enters his bedroom, which also applies to them, until one of you steps out first, no matter what noises are heard from inside. As soon as you’re done and you think you’re gonna sleep he slithers out and starts working on plans for a new machine to make sure no one interrupts you ever again: a doorbell with a laser.

Adam yells at the person who interrupted the two of you because damn he’s been waiting the whole day to have you all to himself, all moody and pent up. This is his time with you, which means that no one gets to tell him he’s needed elsewhere before he’s done with you. He wraps you up with his wings if he sees you’re getting embaressed but really now, considering everything you do together getting watched shouldn’t be an issue.

Vox flinches when he gets a ping that someone’s crossed in front of his cameras which he set up just so no one catches the two of you in a compromising position. He sighs as he pulls away and covers you with a blanket, hiding your body from anyone’s view but his, which is funny because he has an insight into almost everyone else’s love life. For a demon like that he wants to keep his own affairs fairly private, at least the bedroom kind.

Valentino grins at the person who walks in on the two of you, he has zero shame regardless of your own level of shame he will brag about everything that happens and if someone sees it then even better. Besides he is the Overlord of the the porn industry, you knew things like this could happen when you began your relationship with him. He is so comfortable in fact that he will just keep going, kissing you occasionally to tell you that you’re doing a good job in front of a crowd.

[steddiealltheway]

(So, idk if anyone has ordered or seen the Scoops Ahoy costumes from Amazon or whatever, but the shorts for Robin are tight and short. But the shorts for Steve are like the ones seen in the show. Which leads me to this thought…)

Steve’s first day at Scoops Ahoy is… alright?

Actually, it’s pretty miserable.

Scooping ice cream is way harder than it looks. And for some reason he can’t get that perfect rounded shape. It just comes out in pieces that he has to mash into cups and balance on top of cones.

Plus, he’s pretty sure his coworker hates him.

Her name is Robin, and she scowls and dramatically points at her name tag when he asks for it. To make matters worse, they apparently went to high school together, but he doesn’t have the vaguest memory of her. (To be fair, they did not run in the same social circles with her being in band and even theatre and with Steve being “King Steve.”)

But for some reason, she loves to poke fun at him especially when he fails to get any girl’s number. It’s like the Harrington charm radiates through his hair which is blocked by the stupid hat.

But what he really notices only an hour into their eight hour shift is the way she’s tugging at her shorts. She digs her fingers under the elastic band around her thighs as if trying to stretch them out, and she’s constantly trying to pull them down as they begin to ride up.

And really, Steve not trying to perv or anything, but she’s make quite a bit of a fuss with the whole thing, cursing under her breath and obviously really uncomfortable.

So, when the store is fairly empty, Steve turns to her and asks, “Do you want to change shorts with me?”

For the first time, Robin laughs. Loudly. She even snorts at the idea. But her laughter quickly dies down when she realizes Steve isn’t laughing. “Wait, you’re serious?”

Steve shrugs. “Yeah. You look uncomfortable. And hey, I’ve worn way worse to basketball practice, plus I had to wear speedos when I was on the swim team.”

Robin’s nose scrunches up. “Gross.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips and huffs, “Do you want to switch or not?”

She takes a few seconds to stare at Steve, clearly suspicious of an ulterior motive. But then, she curses and starts tugging at elastic band again. “Okay! Fine. But we’re not getting change in the same room.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he heads to the back room. “I wasn’t suggesting that.”

In the end, Steve is left to change in the damn freezer storage area while Robin gets the whole break room. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he sucks it up and doesn’t complain. (Although he really really wants to.)

He waits for her to knock on the door to signal she’s ready, looking down at the shorts. They’re not horrible, but he can understand why Robin was uncomfortable - as they’re already stretching over his ass and thighs while starting to ride up beyond mid thigh.

Even after she knocks, Steve asks, “Ready for me to come out?”

He thinks he hears her laugh about that for some reason before she answers, “Yeah!”

He steps into the room and glances down at her new shorts momentarily before nodding. “Better?”

Robin smiles slightly and nods before heading back out to the main area.

Steve follows behind her. “Hey, they gave me two pairs of these. I can give you the extra pair to wear and keep during our next shift together.”

Robin turns to him and narrows her eyes. “What are you asking for in return?”

“Nothing,” Steve says, eyebrows furrowed. He hopes she understands that he really means it and won’t hold this over her head like an asshole.

She just stares at him for a few seconds before almost wondrously saying, “Huh.”

Luckily, she seems to relax for the first time since their shift started.

After this, the teasing from before has less of an edge to it, but it becomes relentless. Steve almost thinks that maybe this is the start of a wonderful friendship. But Robin would never want that from him.

He only changes his mind about this later when Eddie Munson walks into the store while Steve is cleaning the tables. He accidentally knocks over a napkin and bends over to pick it up, feeling his shorts ride up.

When he stands up, he’s met with a pink faced Munson who stares at him - or rather his ass - with wide eyes.

“See something you want to sample?” Steve asks honestly a bit against his will because it’s part of the Scoops Ahoy greeting. (Only for some reason, he’s unable to get any other part of the greeting out.)

Eddie’s pink face turns red as his eyes snap up to Steve’s. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he quickly breathes out, “I need to leave.”

When the boy practically runs out the store, Steve naturally glances over his shoulder at Robin, trying to gauge if she just saw what he did.

She’s already laughing behind the counter saying between bouts of laughter, “See something you want to sample?”

Steve huffs and feels a blush rise to his cheeks. “Shut up,” he mumbles out, throwing the napkin away before returning behind the counter. “I’m never asking that again.”

But as Robin continues to laugh, Steve can’t help but join in a little, wondering if maybe she would like to be friends and if Eddie will ever come back.

So, maybe his first day wasn’t pretty miserable or just alright. Maybe it was perfect.

[narryffdreaming]

Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't)

Summary: It all started with the prompt "we're not just friends and you fucking know it", and then it turned into several short scenes about two people who are supposed to be just friends, except they aren't.

ONE-SHOT AU, friends to lovers, angst, romance, sweetness, smut +18 (explicit language and explicit sexual content) 25k words

It took less than five minutes for a girl to approach him.

Maisy sighed and leaned back in her chair, sipping her almost-empty-drink and watching the scene take place right in front of her.

To be fair, she wasn't surprised. In fact, before Harry had left the table to get another round of drinks, she'd thought about making a joke and bet how long it would take for a girl to divert him from his task. In the end, she didn't say anything, of course. First because she worried he wouldn't find it funny, but mostly because she was afraid he would see right through her words and notice how terrified she was about the possibility of seeing him with someone else.

So, yeah, she wasn't surprised, but that still didn't mean she wasn't upset. After all, she had spent the entire day secretly hoping things between them would be different now.

"You're staring," Niall muttered next to her, taking the seat Harry had been occupying until a couple of minutes ago. "Already told ya, if you want him, talk to him."

Maisy scoffed, shaking her head as if she could also shake his words away. Niall was sweet, but he was also oblivious to the fact that Harry already knew about her feelings and, still, nothing had changed. Although, if she really thought about it, maybe things were even worse now.

Ugh, why was he acting like that? Why did he keep pretending nothing had happened?

Harry was one of her closest friends, and one of the things she loved the most about him was how sweet and thoughtful he was to everyone around him, especially to those he cared about. That's who he'd been to her since the first day, at least. So even if he didn't feel the same, surely she wasn't expecting for him to simply ignore her feelings.

Over a week had passed and she hadn't talked to anyone about it. As the days went by, it became obvious that the more she thought about what had happened, the more anxious she felt. She figured she deserved to be honest and talk to someone, so she straightened her body and pushed her shoulders back, turning towards Niall and taking a deep breath before finally letting the words out of her mouth.

"We kissed."

Niall pulled his beer away from his face and turned his head, facing her with an open mouth and widened eyes. "Wha—Who? You and Harry?" 

Maisy nodded, and Niall jerked his body closer. 

"What the fuck?! You two kissed? When? How?!"

His reaction made her chuckle, but she dismissed his excitement by shrugging and finishing her drink before speaking again—as if the story wasn't that important or that interesting (and as if they both didn't know that was obviously a lie). 

"He just came over last week and… I don't know. We kissed?"

It sounded more like a question, like she wasn't sure it had actually happened. But it had. The kiss was real. It had happened and it had made her feel all kinds of different and exciting things. And now she couldn't stop thinking about doing it again. And again. And again. 

"Right," Niall scoffed. "Just like that? After five years hanging out together, out of nowhere, you both just thought you know what? Let's kiss today. Might be fun!?"

Maisy didn't know how to answer that, so she rolled her eyes and laughed lightly. Niall definitely had a point, and maybe in a couple of weeks—or months, or years—she'd be able to explain it better, but right then and there she honestly didn't have an answer. It wasn't supposed to happen and it definitely was not what she had in mind when she invited him over, but they were having fun and laughing and at some point she felt something shift in the air and she just… She just kissed him.

Just like that.

Maisy kissed Harry.

And then Harry kissed Maisy.

A lot.

The memory made her cheeks turn hot, and her belly fluttered. She turned back to the table and looked down, fixing her eyes on her fingers and picking at her nails. 

Niall must have sensed her uneasiness, because he didn't pressure for an explanation, moving on to the next question with a softer tone. 

"Does he know you like him, then?" 

Maisy shrugged. 

"He must know. I mean, he has to know…" She tapped her foot on the ground, narrowing her eyes as she stared at her fingertips, "right?" 

She lifted her eyes just a second, just to question him, and Niall dropped his shoulders. 

He moved closer, throwing his arm over the back of her chair. "Isy…"

She shook her head, then focused back on her nails. "You said it yourself, Ni, we hang out all the time… And, I mean, he stays over a lot, and we cuddle, we hold hands… I don't do that with everyone. You know that. He knows that. And also, I don't know, why would I kiss him like that? Out of nowhere?"

"Because it wasn't out of nowhere."

"Exactly!" She looked up, and her eyes landed on Harry once more. Maisy sighed. "It wasn't."

The girl was still there, talking to him, casually laughing and flipping her hair. And Harry seemed really into it, happily paying attention and nodding to whatever the girl was saying. Smirking so fondly that Maisy could even see his dimple. 

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled. 

"God," Maisy laughed bitterly and shortly, rubbing her forehead as she looked away. "I'm so stupid."

"Isy," Niall sighed, "Stop. You're not stupid." 

"I am, though." She shrugged. "It's just… He never looked at me that way, you know?" 

Her voice cracked, and she took both hands up to her face, hiding behind them with an exaggerated grunt. "Fucking stupid…" 

Niall took his hand to her shoulder and sighed, offering half a hug as he squeezed her gently. "That's not fair, Isy. You know how incredibly amazing you are. And to be honest you're just so out of his league. So much better than anyone he could ever date. So he is the stupid one for not seeing what's right in front of him, ok?"

Maisy shook her head. She knew Niall meant well, but she also felt like he didn't understand where she was coming from. See, Maisy knew that Harry liked her, and how much he trusted her — after all, that's why they were friends in the first place. She knew that she was important to him and that she was the first person he'd call or the one he'd run to when he needed something. She knew Harry would let her cry on his shoulder, hold her, share a bed with her, and listen to whatever she had to say. Dates would come and go in his life, but she was still there and he wouldn't let go of her. 

So it wasn't like he didn't know what (or who) was in front of him.

Harry just didn't fancy her. Simply as that. He didn't dream about her in the same way she dreamed about him. And he had never treated her the same way he treated the girls he fancied on their nights out. He had never offered to buy her a drink just because he thought she was pretty, nor had tucked her hair behind her ear just to kiss her neck. He'd never rested his hand on her leg under the table, nor whispered in her ear how badly he wanted to take her home. 

Harry had never shown any signs of being physically attracted to her, and that really, really, freaking fucking sucked. Because there was nothing she could do about that. She couldn't force him to want her like she wanted him.

"Do you want to leave?" Niall squeezed her shoulder. "'Cause I think we should." 

Maisy nodded, then dropped her hands down to the table. "Yeah, please. Let's just go."

"Ok, great." He smiled, relieved at the idea of taking his best friend away from there. "'M just gonna pee and we'll go, ok? Be right back."

Nodding to Niall's words and watching him walk away, Maisy couldn't help but glance over them one more time.

Without a doubt, if Maisy had a choice, she wouldn't actively compare herself to others, knowing it was an unhealthy and worthless habit. Then again, she didn't notice she was doing it until it was too late and her throat felt too dry to even breathe. Because everything about the girl standing in front of Harry seemed perfect, and everything about Maisy sitting at that table by herself seemed ridiculous — she hadn't even at least showered after work, for God's sake!

There were so many differences between her and that girl that it seemed impossible not to feel embarrassed about even thinking something could happen between them, or about even feeling something just platonic for him. 

Besides the fact that the girl was extremely attractive, or that her hair was long, wavy and shiny, or that her dress hugged her figure amazingly, it was obvious that her body language screamed confidence and determination.

And she wasn't doing anything wrong, really, but Maisy wanted to push her away from him as soon as she saw her raise her body to whisper in his ear, touching Harry's arm and making him smile. It only got worse when Harry leaned in and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl's ear, letting his hand slide from her shoulder to her hand, and then resting it on her waist. He smirked, then whispered something back to her.

"'M back, let's go." Niall stood in front of her, frowning while blocking up her view. "'M gonna walk you home, then I'm gonna punch Harry's fucking stupid face. C'mon."

— — — — — 

Maisy had a feeling it was Harry as soon as she heard the knock on her door, hence why she wasn't surprised to see him standing in the middle of the hallway. Still, it was barely past midnight, so seeing him there didn't make much sense—wasn't he supposed to be with the girl?

"Heyyy Haz!" She smiled, trying her best to appear nonchalant despite the fact that she had just spent thirty minutes crying over him in the shower. "Thought you were still at the pub."

"Can I come in?" 

The tone of his voice was one she couldn't recognize, and Maisy froze for a moment. She blinked at him, taking in the intensity behind his glare and the tension all over his face. Her smile faltered, and she furrowed her brows. 

"I—Yes." She took a step aside and raised his hand, showing him the way as if he hadn't simply barged in any other time up until then. "Of course."

Harry stared ahead and walked in, radiating so much tension and heat that Maisy's heart skipped a beat, then immediately sped up. She swallowed, closing the door before following his steps to the living room.

As seconds went by, he didn't turn to look at her, and she was able to spot a slight trace of red lipstick on his neck. It was hard not to picture him and the girl together, but it was even harder not to think about how it had felt to tangle her own fingers through his curls while tasting that same bit of skin. And it hurt that, no matter how much she wished she could kiss him again, somebody else had done that already just earlier that night.

"Are you ok?" she asked, pushing the memories away. "Did—Did something happen?" 

Harry snorted. "I don't know. You tell me."

Maisy frowned, scrunching up her face and blinking a few times while trying (and miserably failing) to organize her thoughts. 

"What? I—What's… What's that supposed to mean?" 

Harry remained silent, though, and her chest tightened. Closing her hands into fists, she licked her lips and took a breath in, then looked him up and down.

"Haz, please…" her voice trembled, but she still tried. "What's going on? Talk to me."

Nothing changed, and she swallowed. 

"Can you at least look at me? Please? I don't—"

"Why?!" He turned around, then, so abruptly that Maisy's mouth fell open as she took a step back. 

"Why didn't you talk to me? Huh?!" Harry glared at her, his jaw tightened and his brows snapped together while he threw his hands in the air and raised his voice. "Why did I have to go through a massive fight with Niall to find out that you have—That you—I mean—" he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. A moment passed while he took a deep breath, only for him to give a humorless laugh right after. "Jesus, it's so absurd I can't even say it."

"What…Why—Why are you so mad at me?" She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing Harry wasn't making any sense, but at the same time scared for what she thought he was implying. Had Niall gone back to the pub? He had walked her home only a couple of hours earlier, they'd talked a little, she'd cried on his shoulder, and then he'd left. She hadn't thought about where he would go next, just assuming he'd go straight back to his place, but maybe she'd been wrong? She just… She didn't… What was happening? "I—I didn't do anything. I don't even… I don't even know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the fact that Niall just yelled at me for half an hour for apparently breaking your heart, Maisy. That's what I'm talking about!"

There was a pause. A long and painful pause.

Harry's chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, fists clenched while his arms remained at his sides and he glared at her. 

Standing a few feet across from him, Maisy's eyes welled up with tears. She knew Harry like she knew the palm of her hand, and out of all the times she'd imagined him finding out, anger had never been present. Shock? Sure. Sadness? Yes. Worry? Also yes. Pity? Almost every time. She'd imagined many things, and different emotions. Everything. Anything. But never that. 

She'd never thought he would ever throw words at her so carelessly, so loudly, and so harshly. On top of that, she also didn't think she deserved them. Because, really, what had she done besides stupidly falling in love with him? She'd never gotten in his way nor stopped him from living his life. So, yeah, truly—why was he so mad at her?

She swallowed down her tears and clenched her teeth, blinking rapidly as adrenaline rushed through her veins. 

"Oh, I see." She took a step closer and nodded, straightening her body and allowing her hands to talk along with her own raising voice. "So what? Niall tells you that you broke my heart and this is your reaction? What the hell Harry?! Did you really think this was a good idea? Coming back to my place in the middle of the night just to yell at me?! What were you thinking?!"

Harry flinched, and blinked. A mix of emotions flashed through his eyes, until he settled with anger once again.

"Of course I didn't think or plan this, Maisy! That's exactly why I'm here. I'm trying to understand because it doesn't make any sense!" 

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Everything was fine, Maisy!" 

She rolled her eyes and looked away, taking her hand up to pull her hair back and letting him say whatever he wanted to say. 

"So I don't get it, ok?! I don't! And we were having fun tonight! Man I met this amazing girl, and was just about to take her home when Niall started yelling at me. For fucks sake! Out of nowhere! Of course she left and now I'm—"

"Okay, okay. Stop," she interrupted, holding her palms up and staring back at him. "Just… Just stop, please." 

Harry frowned even deeper, and a long, low sigh fell through Maisy's lips. There was no point in arguing with him, and she knew that. 

"I get it, okay?" she added. "And I'm very sorry for ruining your night with this amazing girl. I swear I didn't mean to. I left the pub just so I could come home and cry by myself. So trust me, I didn't want to bother you with this, ok? And I swear to God I didn't want Niall to go back and tell you about it. I didn't want any of this to happen. So I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

She dropped her weight on the couch and breathed in, then slowly rubbed her temples and breathed out.

It was the realization of how exhausted she sounded that made Harry stop and pay attention to her for the first time since she'd opened the door. He noticed the lack of energy, the way she covered her face, the way she hunched her body as if she needed to hug herself. As if she needed to protect herself. 

It only took one second and one attentive glance for all of his anger to melt away, and a big wave of guilt crashed into him.

Unfortunately, though, Harry didn't know how to handle that situation. It was a new dynamic between them, a new path for a friendship that wasn't supposed to take that turn. So he continued justifying himself, although much more carefully than before.

"It took me by surprise, y'know? That's all. I was—" He shut his mouth and shook his head, exhaling before going back to explaining himself. "It doesn't matter. The thing is that Niall just came out of nowhere, so mad at me, Isy… I couldn't understand what was going on, and then he was blaming me for breaking your heart and talking about how you—saying that you have—I mean—That you have—"

"That I have, what?" With closed eyes, she dug her fingertips into her forehead, then shrugged. "Just say it, Harry, c'mon."

He frowned, unable to move.

"Is it true? Do you?"

"Again, what?" Letting out a hollow laugh, she dropped her hands down to her lap and looked at him. "You have to at least say it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't make sense! It— it can't be true. We are just friends and—"

"Oh, c'mon Harry!" She stood up, taking a step forward if only to make sure he wouldn't ignore her next words. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

"No! I don't—I mean, yes. Yes we are. We're just friends, Isy!"

"Just friends? Really?"

"Yes!"

"Well…" She shrugged, and looked away. "Not to me then, I'm sorry."

Harry took a step back and widened his eyes. And then, he blinked, pulling his hair back with one hand and resting the other on his hip before glancing down at his own feet. 

Maisy sighed. A tiny part of her wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him up, and yell at him to wake up. Just shout at him. Prove him wrong. 

However, she had no more energy to fight him. Not about that, at least. Her body felt too heavy to even move and her heart had changed into a slow thud inside her numb chest. Harry was her favorite person, but at that moment all she wanted was to be alone. It wasn't her intention to make him angry, let alone disappoint him, and knowing that she'd put them both in that situation only made her feel even more ashamed.

So she decided to be honest. Too exhausted to argue, she decided to stop fighting or running away and just say what she'd been thinking since she'd left the pub earlier that night.

"Look… I don't think we're just friends, Haz. I'm just friends with Niall. I've known him for over 10 years and I've never kissed him. God, I never even thought about kissing him. He slept over plenty of times, but he never asked to cuddle with me, and he never held me the way that you do. Last week I… I kissed you and you kissed me back, Harry. And maybe I got it wrong, but… But you really made me feel like you fucking wanted to, y'know? We weren't drunk, we kissed for hours and we didn't even have sex. We kissed and then you stayed and you fell asleep with your arms around me. And then you woke up and you—" Her voice cracked, and she knew she needed to take a deep breath if she wanted to continue. Maybe reliving every single detail was too much, maybe she didn't need to do that. "Anyway, no, ok? No. You and me, Harry? We're not just friends, and even if you can't say it out loud or believe it's true, I do have feelings for you. I've had feelings for you for a long time now and to be honest, yeah, you really… I'm sorry but you really broke my heart tonight."

Even with all the chatter around him, Harry caught the soft thump of someone's boots across the busy studio. It was like his mind was searching for the perfect excuse to get distracted, because he instantly dropped the task he was supposed to be doing and focused on the sound, instead. From there on, every noise caught his attention — Nina's fingers tapping against the keyboard, Johnny's phone ringing, Jenny and Patrick laughing as they filled their mugs with coffee, Maria and Julia whispering by the windows. 

Despite not seeing anyone, he somehow kept up with everyone's movements and conversations. Meanwhile, displayed on the screen in front of him, the design he was supposed to be working on since he'd arrived that morning—and that he was also supposed to deliver to a client in less than thirty-six hours—remained untouched. 

"You look like shit," Niall's voice pointed out from behind him, and Harry stiffened on his seat. 

He knew Niall had been right behind him all along. Of course he knew. It wasn't as if he could've expected anything differently. After all, that's how the two had met: they'd joined the agency on the same day and were assigned to sit back to back from each other, then the rest was history. 

Since then, that monday was the first day in over five years they still hadn't said even one word to each other. It was weird, to be honest, but they were both still resentful from the events of last friday's night, and too stubborn to handle the situation any differently. 

So, yeah. To sum it up, Harry knew Niall had been there all along, but he wasn't expecting to engage in a conversation with him. Not yet. Not for another couple of days.

Still, Harry cleared his throat, and shrugged. 

"Yeah, well…" he said, keeping his eyes on the screen. "I feel like shit." 

Niall made a sound that resembled a hum, but then got quiet. And Harry wasn't sure of what he could say next, or if there was anything to say at all, so he breathed in and waited in silence. 

No matter how confusing the latest events of his life had been, if there was one thing Harry was still sure of, it was that Niall and Maisy cared about each other like brother and sister. And that whilst he'd been easily welcomed into the group by the two of them, their friendship already lasted for over a decade, so it would always come first. And he was ok with that, he understood that. Niall knew Maisy in a different way than Harry did, and she would tell Niall things that she would never talk to him about, so there was no point in competing with them. It wasn't even something he would ever try to do, to be honest. 

"So…" Niall cleared his throat. "You went to Isy's."

And there it was. 

Harry closed his eyes.

See? Of course Niall already knew about that.

Sure, it didn't bother him, and it also wasn't a surprise, but… What was he supposed to say? He didn't even think Niall would want to talk to him, so what was he supposed to expect out of that conversation? As far as Harry knew, he had broken Maisy's heart and she wasn't talking to him anymore. And that was it. He had fucked everything up — before he even knew there was something to fuck up in the first place. 

Bloody hell.

Harry sighed, then glanced at the screen in front of him. 

To be completely honest, he had spent the last 48 hours trying to understand what the hell had happened, wincing every time he remembered Maisy's words and shuddering every time he thought about how he'd left her crying by herself on the couch. 

Those same 48 hours had made him feel all over the place, everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He was all by himself the entire weekend, locked at home, having to occupy his mind with random, meaningless and stupid little things so he wouldn't drown in his own thoughts. Surely, it wasn't the first time they hadn't seen or talked to each other for a couple of days — although it was something rare to happen — but it was the way they'd left things that kept tormenting him. 

He still had so many questions, because he needed so many answers. He wanted to know more about what had happened, about what had changed, or when, or why… 

And he was also desperate to know what would happen next, because… Well… What was he even supposed to do after all that? 

Harry rolled his chair around, getting himself out of his own spiraling thinking. 

Niall was already facing him, glaring at him. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs extended forward, clenching his jaw and flaring his nostrils as if he was trying to set Harry on fire. 

Clearly, it was safe to say Niall was still mad at him. And Harry didn't blame him — he was mad at himself, too.

He rolled his shoulders, and finally asked, "Did she tell you about it?"

Niall shrugged once. Briefly and quickly. "Kinda."

Harry nodded. He took one of his hands out of the pocket of his jumper and lifted it to the back of his neck, then massaged some of the stiffness away. There were so many things he wanted to ask, it was hard to choose where to start. He also didn't want to say the wrong thing and have Niall trying to physically fight him again. Things were already bad enough as they were, there was no need to add more drama into it. 

Moving his hand from his neck to his face, he dragged his eyes to the floor and pinched his lip, pulling the skin as he voiced the next question. 

"When did you see her?" 

"Yesterday."

Harry nodded again, eyes still on the floor and fingers still on his bottom lip. 

Across from him, Niall narrowed his eyes. He wasn't just messing around when he'd said Harry looked like shit. A beanie hid his hair, his shoulders were rigid, he hadn't shaved, his jaw was clenched, and he kept constantly squeezing his eyebrows together. Also, judging by the bags under his eyes, he didn't seem to be sleeping that well — or he didn't seem to be sleeping at all. 

Should he be worried? He'd checked on Maisy a lot, but maybe he should've checked on Harry as well, because maybe this whole situation had also messed him up, even if for different reasons. Maybe Harry also needed a friend.

Shit.

Niall took a deep breath and uncrossed his arms, letting his shoulders fall as he straightened his back. "You honestly look like shit mate, did you sleep at all this weekend?"

Harry finally glanced over, shaking his head. 

"I'm just…" He pressed his lips together, scratching his jaw before letting both of his hands fall on his lap. "She hasn't been answering any of my calls." 

Niall lifted then dropped his eyebrows, nodding as if he knew exactly what Harry was talking about.

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged. "I don't think she will, to be honest."

Harry nodded, and looked away. 

He probably deserved that.

— — — — —

"Thanks," Harry said to the waitress as she placed two beers and some fries on the table.

As soon as she walked away, he grabbed a bottle and took a sip, giving himself a few more seconds before asking the question he really wanted to ask. 

"How is she?"

Niall's hand was full of fries, midway to his mouth, and Harry didn't miss the way he froze for one second before looking at him and engulfing them. He didn't finish eating before answering, mumbling the words as he chewed, "She's hurt. And you know how she gets when she's hurt."

"Fuck." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pulling his head back and sighing to the ceiling. It killed him to know he'd been the one to make Maisy suffer, it killed him that she didn't let him hold her when she cried, and it killed him how she begged him to leave her alone because his presence was only making it worse. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I would never mean that."

Niall scoffed, and Harry glanced down again. He found his friend eating fries absently, as if he wasn't part of the conversation anymore. Scanning them carefully before picking one and shoving it into his mouth. And then another one.

Harry frowned. "What? You know I didn't mean to hurt her, right?"

Niall peeked at him through the corner of his eyes.

"Well…" He tilted his head from side to side, then shifted on his seat and rubbed his hands together, cleaning up the salt. "Look, you didn't mean it. Fine. But I don't think you worried about it either, alright? I mean, you walked to the bar to get Isy a drink and didn't come back 'cause you wanted to hook up with some random chick. Which, by the way, was already a problem in the first place 'cause she had to watch you flirting around. But then, after I told you she has feelings for you, you went back to hers and blamed her for not getting laid? That's fucked up man, c'mon."

"She told you I blamed her for not getting laid?"

Niall lifted his eyebrows. "Didn't you?" 

"I—I don't know, I was just freaking out. You saw when I left the pub, I wasn't even thinking."

"Clearly," Niall snickered, then looked around the pub as he took a deep breath. "Look, she didn't want to say anything 'cause she didn't want to lose your friendship… And, yeah, maybe part of this mess it's on me, 'cause… Well, 'cause I told you about it, alright? But… Mate… Look, you didn't see how hurt she was when she saw you at the bar, ok? You didn't think about her, and that really, really pissed me off."

Rubbing his jaw, Harry rolled his neck and sighed. It was true, Harry didn't see how much it hurt Maisy to see him at the bar. He actually didn't even know Maisy was watching as the girl approached him, but even if he did, he wouldn't have thought it was something that would hurt her. Sure, she would probably tease him for ditching them, or pinch him for leaving her waiting for her drink… But feeling hurt? As far as he knew, that wasn't even an alternative. 

"I don't… I don't get it." He shrugged. "It's not like she never saw me with a girl before. I mean, I've been single since we met, and that's over five years, man. She's the one who had a boyfriend for two fucking years and you never saw me say a word about it."

"Huh," Niall scoffed, curving his lips up as he took his beer to his mouth. He took a sip, then murmured behind the bottle, "I had no idea Maisy having a boyfriend bothered you." 

Harry tilted his own bottle, pointing at him. "That's not what I said. My point is, she knows I hook up every now and then. We always talked about it, and it was never a problem before."

Rolling his eyes, Niall sighed. Harry was really getting on his nerves with those stupid doubts. 

"Well, obviously, this time was different."

"But why? Why was it different this time? What changed?"

"What changed?" Niall laughed, humorlessly and unbelievably, banging his beer against the table and inching forward. He wouldn't expect a kiss to mean something when it came to random hook ups, but he also wouldn't expect Harry to treat Maisy like a random hook up. Harry knew her better than that. And Maisy deserved better than that. Harry couldn't just kiss her and act as if it hadn't happened. He just couldn't. Niall wouldn't allow that. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Or are you just that stupid?!"

"Wha—" 

"You two fucking kissed, mate! C'mon!"

"I—"

"You do remember that, right?"

Harry scoffed. "Of course I remember!" 

"Of course you remember." Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling at how dense his friend could be. "Then what? Are you trying to pretend it didn't happen?"

Harry shook his head and stared down at his hands, one of them holding the bottle as the other played with the sticker on it. Of course he wasn't trying to pretend their kiss hadn't happened. He just didn't think it was something that would happen between them, and when it did, he didn't think it would go further than that. He didn't think Maisy saw him that way. Maybe at first, years ago, when they'd just met. But once he realized she'd put him in the friendzone, he didn't think he would ever get out of there. And he'd made peace with that. He put the idea away and locked it inside his mind. But he also wasn't sure if any of that made sense, and he didn't want to say something that would make it seem as if he didn't care about Maisy. Because he did. He cared about her way too much to lose her. 

"I'm not—" Shit. How was he supposed to explain what was going through his mind? "I'm not trying to pretend it didn't happen, that's—that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know." He shrugged, feeling a sour taste in his mouth. "I guess… I guess I just didn't think she was expecting something different from me, that's all."

The pause that followed his answer was filled with tension. Harry kept fidgeting with the bottle in his hand, taking deep breaths to clear out his mind. Or perhaps to relieve the memories of that day. Trying to understand why it should've been so obvious to him that Maisy expected more out of them when she didn't say anything about it. Why should've been so obvious to him, when she didn't act any differently the next morning? Why should've been so obvious to him, when she'd barely texted him back the next day? And why should've been so obvious to him if, when he'd invited her to go out for a drink, she'd been the one to suggest that Niall tagged along? 

"Anyway…" Niall said, then put more fries inside his mouth and chewed. After a second, he swallowed, then added, "Everything would've probably been just fine if you hadn't freaked out on her. That was really stupid."

"Right." Harry raised an eyebrow, eying his friend from across the table. "Can you blame me, though? You shoved me over those tables and tried to punch me, mate! Out of nowhere. Did you really need to be so fucking dramatic?"

Niall shifted on his seat, chuckling under his breath as he scratched his neck. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that… I told ya, I was really pissed off." 

Harry's lips curved into a smile. He shook his head, lifting his beer and finishing the liquid inside while Niall ate more fries. 

The tension between them had faded off, so although their conversation died for a couple minutes, things didn't feel awkward anymore. Still, there were a million things rushing through Harry's mind. Because, truly, what the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn't want to lose Maisy. He really didn't. But she wasn't texting him back, nor answering any of his calls, and he didn't want to be invasive and just show up at her door. He wanted to fix things, not make them worse. 

So, playing with the odds, Harry decided to break off the silence and rip off the band-aid that was covering his deepest dilemma.

"What do I do now?" 

Niall gulped the fries down, then drummed his fingers on the table and shrugged. "Do you have feelings for her?" 

Harry looked away. Did he? Didn't he? How was he supposed to know that? It was a very simple and obvious question, and whereas it didn't surprise him, he wasn't actually expecting to answer it. He didn't know how to, to be honest. 

"Can't help you if you don't know what you want, mate," Niall said. "You already know she has feelings for you, so I don't know what you expect me to say… 'Cause either you have feelings for her and go for it, or you don't and you let her go. But there's no way you can pretend nothing happened."

"No, I know that."

"Good. So figure out what you're feeling, and do something about it." 

 

Three weeks later, Maisy saw him again. 

Lucie had offered to leave him out of her birthday celebrations, but to be honest Maisy didn't think it was fair to shut him off from his entire group of friends. Even if the only reason why he knew them was because she and Niall had introduced him in the first place. 

So there she was, at a gorgeous rooftop club, on a Saturday night, wearing a black top and white pants that she secretly hoped would blow Harry's mind. Showing off as much cleavage as she could, and pairing the high-waist with heels to highlight her curves around her hips. Mingling with the girls, and avoiding Max's hints for a second date. Laughing and chatting with a drink in her hand, while peering at the door and waiting for him to arrive. 

It was kind of agonizing, to be honest. And if she didn't know he was giving Niall a ride to the party, she would've already given up by then. 

But then she finished her second drink, went to the restroom, and as she made it back to the table, she finally saw them. Harry and Niall. Walking up the stairs that led to the terrace. Half an hour late, and the last ones to arrive.

Knowing it would take them a minute or two to reach the group, Maisy took a step to the side and hid behind Callie, placing a hand on her lower back and encouraging her not to move.

"What's up?" Callie asked, turning her head to the side. 

Peering over her friend's shoulder, Maisy shook her head and whispered, "Nothing. He's here." 

"Hmmm…" Callie nodded, then took a sip of her drink. "So what? You are moving on, remember? Going out on dates with Max and all that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Maisy rolled her eyes, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. "I just wanna look at him for one second, then I'll move on… I mean, just look at him, Callie… He's hot!"

Callie chuckled and shook her head, and although Maisy couldn't see her, she could imagine her rolling her eyes at those words. Not because she didn't think Harry was handsome, but because she'd already made up her mind about not supporting her feelings for him anymore. Not after seeing how much he'd hurt her. Still, she didn't say anything else, going back to whatever conversation she was having before and letting Maisy enjoy the view. 

So that's exactly what she did. 

Harry walked with his head low, following Niall's lead and mumbling "excuse me" and "sorry" every time he had to squeeze between bodies. He was wearing her favorite shirt, a custom made checked one he'd gotten last Christmas from his stylist sister, and Maisy bit her lip. He'd left it unbuttoned and layered it over a white t-shirt, its neckline so low that she could see the two swallows facing each other on his chest, as long as his usual gold cross necklace. His curls were shorter and all messed up in his head, and if she didn't know him better, she would've thought he hadn't even remembered to comb his hair after showering. But that wasn't the case, and she was sure it was exactly the look he was going for — it had always killed her how good he looked like that. 

"Niall, Harry, over here!" Diana raised her arm and waved her hand, bursting Maisy's tiny bubble. 

Moving from behind Callie, Maisy walked to the opposite side of the table and took a seat next to Josh. She smiled at him and Eileen, who had her fingers intertwined with his, and pretended not to see Niall stand right next to Lucie and raise his arms up in the air, or how cheers were thrown around them when they started greeting everyone. 

"You ok?" Eileen asked, leaning forward to look at her.

"Of course." Maisy smiled, and nodded. 

Was she, though?

Their voices were mixed up with music, laughter and glasses clinking together, but even so she heard Harry's words loud and clear, wishing their mutual friend a happy birthday and thanking her for inviting him. It's been a long time, you definitely look older, he joked, and Maisy had to really force herself to hold back a smile—and maybe even some tears. 

It hurt to see him like that—so comfortable, so cute, so friendly, and so hot—knowing she wouldn't be able to touch him like she wished to. Above and beyond, it hurt not being able to sit next to him and just chat, make him laugh, and stare into his green eyes while listening to his deep and slow voice. 

She didn't know how to act in front of him anymore, which really bothered her. 

Before their fight, or whatever that had been, being friends with Harry had never been difficult, and her feelings for him had never felt like a problem, so being incapable of at least saying 'hello' to him made her feel immature and stupid. There was a weight on her shoulders pressuring her to quickly find a way to handle the situation, and a voice shouting at her that she was a 28 years-old woman who by now had to know how to remain friends and move on. 

Honestly, though, why did she let this happen? Why did she kiss him? Why did she tell Niall about the kiss? Why did she have to go and ruin everything?

"You think you'll talk tonight?" 

Maisy shrugged. She didn't have to ask Eileen what she meant by that. All of her friends knew about what had happened that Friday night, and they'd all shown different reactions to it. In this case, Eileen was still very supportive of her feelings for Harry, and a firm believer that their friendship was too important and deep to let it die so easily after one mistake. 

"I don't think so," she said, focusing on her friend's eyes to avoid the fact that, had it been a month before, she would've already been wrapped around his arms. "What's there to talk, anyway?" 

"What if he wants to apologize?"

"Who wants to apologize?" Josh asked, sitting in between the two girls. 

"No one—"

"Harry."

"Eileen!" 

"Oops!" Eileen covered her mouth with one hand and widened her eyes. "Sorry! Sorry! He won't tell anyone. I promise."

Josh frowned. "Couldn't even if I tried." 

Maisy sighed. "It's fine. I just—" 

"Hey guys…" Harry's deep voice interrupted their conversation, and they all shut their mouths. 

Maisy held her breath and turned her head, tilting her chin up to look at his face. Harry stood right across from her with a soft smile on his face, hunching over the short table to give Eileen a kiss on the cheek and Josh a handshake. Her pulse raced, and her stomach fluttered. Oh God. She couldn't do that. She just… She couldn't. 

She really couldn't. 

It was too much. 

So when he seemed to finally turn his head towards her, her eyes just darted to the other side, and she was up from her seat.

"Niall!" she shouted, her mouth curving into a wide smile as she raised her arm and waved to get her best friend's attention. "Hii!"

And before she knew it, she was off the table and away from him. 

— — — — —

The music was louder than before, everyone seemed too drunk and sweaty, and it was definitely time for her to leave. But Maisy was having fun for the first time in three weeks, and she didn't want that feeling to end. She had cried too much, for too many days, and a night of laughter and dancing with her friends was all she needed to step out of that sadness.

Or, well, that's what she'd thought, at least.  

Because, see? Maisy was having fun. Until, out of nowhere, her friends decided to start discussing her (nonexistent) lovelife. All over again. 

"Horannnnn! C'mere!" 

Callie waved, and Maisy dropped her head back.

"Nooooo!" she cried. "Stop!"

"Ladies," Niall said with a huge grin on his face, standing between Callie and Maisy and throwing one arm around each one. "What's the shouting all about?"

"Well…" Eileen said, wiggling her eyebrows and hiding a smirk behind the rim of her drink. "We want to know what's up with Harry." 

"What? Why? What did he do now?" Niall dropped Callie and turned towards Maisy, placing both hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "Tell me and I'll kick his ass."

"Nothing!" 

She really wanted them to stop. How was she supposed to stop thinking about Harry, if people kept constantly bringing him up?

"Mhm, nothing." Callie said. "He's just been fucking ogling her the entire night, that's all."

"Ohhh, that," Niall chuckled, throwing his arm around Maisy's shoulders one more time and then pulling her closer for half-a-hug. "Yeah, I know."

Lucie and Eileen squeaked, the first one quickly demanding an explanation, "What do you mean, yeah, I know?"

Maisy looked away. 

Niall frowned. "Just… Yeah, I know he's been watching her?" 

"Okay, but why is he watching her?"

He shrugged. "I guess he's just so used to it that he doesn't even notice, I don't know. You both should talk, though," —he tapped Maisy's shoulder— "he's honestly been miserable at work."

"And who's fault is that? Huh?" Callie straightened her back, crossing her arms on her chest. "Besides, he's too late, we're rooting for Max now."

"Uh, excuse me?" Eileen scoffed. "Honey, there's no way I'm rooting for Max. I'm totally team Harry." 

"Yeah, I don't know," Lucie said. "I mean, I always felt like Maisy and Harry were end game, y'know?"

"Girls—" 

"But he was such a dick to her!"

"Once, Callie. It was one questionable moment in five years, ok?"

"Yeahh! He's such a sweetheart. I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt."

"Ladies, hey—" 

"Well, I don't. Max stepped up in one week and did something Harry couldn't in five years. That's the kind of man I want for my friend."

"Just let them," Maisy whispered, watching the way her three best friends argued about something that had nothing to do with them. And the exact topic she'd been trying to avoid the entire night. She loved them, she knew they meant well, and she knew they were all drunk, but they were definitely ruining the end of her night. She didn't want to talk about Max, and she didn't want to think about Harry. She just wanted to have fun. Why couldn't her friends let her have fun?

"Are you ok?" Niall asked, directly in Maisy's ear, then squeezed her shoulder.

"Mhm." She scoffed, and tilted her chin towards her friends. "I'm pretty sure if I walk out of here right now, they won't even notice."

"Wanna sit and chat for a bit?"

"Nahh…" She shook her head, then looked around, checking out the different groups of people surrounding them. There was a beat of silence between them, loudly filled by the music, and then she added, "I know he's been watching me." 

Niall snorted. "Don't we all? Guy doesn't know how to be subtle." 

Maisy's lips curled into a smile, and she looked down at her feet. "It doesn't matter, tho. He told me we're just friends, so… I don't know… I don't want to look too much into it." 

"Right. Well…" Niall sighed. By then, he'd already chatted with Harry for weeks, till the point where it felt there was nothing left to talk about. So he knew his friend had fucked up things, but he also knew how deeply he regretted it. If things had happened in a different setting, under different circumstances, Harry's reaction would've been also different. Which is why he'd been feeling so guilty—he'd been the one to throw Harry off, when he knew both of them had more than a few beers in their system. And although he couldn't go back in time and change Harry's actions and words, he could try to make them talk again. 

"Y'know," he started, and then took a pause to think about his next words. "When we talked at work, he told me that your kiss was just a kiss. So I asked if he had ever kissed Callie, or Lucie, or Eileen, right? And, like, he just went in shock, as if what I was saying was fucking absurd."

Maisy frowned. "I'm not following, Ni. I'm not drunk, but I'm definitely not sober enough to psychoanalyze stuff."

Niall chuckled, shaking his head and squeezing her shoulder. "My bad. What I mean is, he didn't think kissing you was absurd, but he thought kissing the other girls was, y'know? I guess he thought that it was so normal that it didn't mean anything."

"That doesn't make sense," Maisy laughed bitterly, shaking her head and taking a step back to look into Niall's eyes as she left her unfiltered thoughts out of her mind. "I don't want my kiss to feel normal, Ni, c'mon. If he didn't feel anything, if he didn't think about doing it again or, I don't know… If it didn't cross his mind even once, then why will I think he wants me? I hate that we're supposed to believe men feel something for us even when they don't say it, you know? Or that we're supposed to believe they love us when they say they hate us. If he can flirt with other girls and let them know he wants them, then why can't he do the same for me? I just—I can't be with someone who won't let me know they want me, okay? I can't. And I won't."

"You're right, yeah, sorry." Niall lowered his head and nodded, knowing she had a point. Maisy shouldn't wait around just because Harry wasn't ready to deal with his feelings, she had already talked to him about that and explained her point of view, and he understood where she was coming from. It wasn't Maisy who had to step up and do something about her feelings. Not anymore. Now Harry was the one who had to let her know how he felt. "'M sorry, Isy." 

Maisy sighed, grabbed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I know. You're fine. Thanks for always listening." 

"Anytime, love." He pulled her by the neck and kissed the side of her head, then let her go. "Look at that, now they walked away and we didn't even notice." 

She looked around and chuckled, noticing her friends weren't near them anymore. She glanced back to their tables, then, where she found them dancing with the boys. Josh was there. Max was there. Franklin, Nick and Kevin were there. Ryan was there. And even Tommy had shown up again—attached to a girl Maisy had never seen before. Of course, since he stood next to her, Niall was missing. But besides him, the only one who wasn't around the table was… Harry. 

And to be honest the thought shouldn't have crossed her mind. It shouldn't. And even when it already had, she shouldn't have looked around for him, because deep down she already knew where she would find him and what she would see, and she didn't want to go through that again. 

It had been such a fun night, she'd felt so good again.

She didn't want to look for him.

And yet… 

She did. 

She let her eyes wander and stop right where he was, at the bar, wearing her favorite shirt. 

Again, she should've looked away, but she didn't, because she wanted to know who he was talking to, who was standing in front of him while she only could see his back.

And if she had listened to all of those warnings voiced in her head, if she hadn't waited for him to move a little bit, and if she hadn't waited for the person in front of him to tilt their head to the side, she wouldn't have felt the air getting knocked out of her. Because she wouldn't have seen him there, talking again with that amazing girl from three weeks ago — the girl he was talking to when her own feelings ruined everything for him, and for them. 

 

"C'mon… C'mon…" Maisy mumbled to herself. Her body shivered while she stared at her phone, watching as the Uber app tried to find her a driver, and she crossed one arm over her stomach.  

She knew she should've worn a blazer instead of prioritizing not clashing her outfit. Or at least she should've been still inside, where it was warm and she could sit down — although that wasn't really an option, because it would've ruined her plans of sneaking out without Callie noticing. 

She tapped her foot against the floor, glaring at her phone. It wasn't supposed to be taking this long, it wasn't supposed to be so hard to find a ride home. 

Maybe she should just walk. She wasn't that far away from home… 

No. Of course she shouldn't just walk. She wasn't stupid to walk by herself on a Saturday night, dressed like that, after having a few drinks. 

Her phone buzzed, the app finally notifying she had a new driver. Leaning against the wall, Maisy sighed. Adam was only thirteen minutes away. Not as fast as she would've liked, but still better than nothing.

Taking in her surroundings, she blocked her phone and kept it tight between her fingers, then placed her arm on top of the other one. Hugging herself. Protecting herself from the coldness. And maybe even from the sadness. 

The street was almost empty, only a couple of people standing on the sidewalk just like her, probably waiting to go home. And except for two or three cars rushing by here and there, there were no signs of anyone else driving around the city.

She looked down, and unlocked her phone. 

Adam was currently twenty minutes away.

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," she muttered. 

"Aha! There you are!" 

Maisy moved her eyes up and to the side. 

Niall beamed at her, one arm stretched out to keep the front door open. 

"Max was just asking about you." 

He looked inside the bar for a moment, then back at her, taking a step closer and letting his hand fall to his side. As he walked, though, the door remained open, until Harry walked through it and let it close behind him. 

Maisy's lungs froze, and her heart thumped inside her chest. 

"Are you leaving?" Niall asked.

Harry's eyes darted to her, and Maisy's eyes darted to Niall.

"Uh, yeah…" She nodded, blocking her phone and holding it tightly into a fist while she squeezed her crossed arms around her body. "I'm just waiting for my Uber."

"Huh." Niall flinched his head back, slightly wrinkling his brows. "Well, just so you know, Max is under the impression he is taking you home…"

Maisy sighed, and rolled her eyes. Unlike Callie, who'd been thrilled about Maisy going out with her boyfriend's best friend, and who thought Harry didn't deserve another single second of her time, Niall knew how guilty and conflicted she'd been feeling about going out with one friend just to get over another one. Even if it had been for only one date, and even if she wasn't planning on doing it again. And even if one friend was nothing like the other. 

Because, yes, her friendship with Max was nothing compared to her friendship with Harry, but Maisy supposed Max would be what she considered just a friend to be, and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings like hers had been hurt. 

Although, of course, Max didn't have actual feelings for her, he just fancied her — he fancied her a lot. So badly that he'd spent months waiting for the moment to ask her out. Something Harry had never, ever, cared to do. 

Ugh. 

"I know," she said, diverting her sight across the street before she gave in to the urge of looking at Harry. "I'm trying to leave before he finds me." 

Niall chuckled, and Maisy bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile. It was shitty of her, she knew that, but at that moment she was too tired to care. She planned to text both him and Callie as soon as she got home. And she could've (and would've) done that by then already if the damn driver weren't taking so damn long.

"So," Niall said, "you're not going home with Max?"

Maisy shook her head.

"'Cause you don't want to go with him. Right?"

Pulling her eyebrows together, Maisy glanced at him. Was it really necessary for him to word it out like that? She was ready to call him out for asking such a question, when she caught him looking away from her. And then, out of instinct, she followed his line of vision. And before she could even notice and stop herself, she was looking at Harry as well. 

Maisy's world stopped turning. All over again.

Different from them, Harry focused on the front door, moving his jaw and parting his lips as he chewed gum. Silent. Distracted. Hands hidden inside his pockets, shoulders slightly up. Unkempt curls pulled back on the top of his head, clearly getting stuck there after he'd ran his hand through them. 

Maisy's belly fluttered. Everything about him was pretty, no wonder why he walked around so confident all the time. As if he owned the space.

She'd always found herself physically attracted to him, but since kissing him it seemed as if she couldn't hold herself anymore. And the fact that she knew so much about him only made it worse. Because there he was, wearing a shirt she loved so much that she'd borrowed it from him multiple times. And a shirt that, if things hadn't changed so much, and if their friendship hadn't been ruined by her stupid feelings, she knew she would've been wearing it right then and there—and then she wouldn't have been feeling so cold.

Damn. 

What was he thinking? What was he looking at? Was he paying any attention to their conversation? Was he waiting for someone? Oh God. Was he waiting for… For that girl? Was she going to be forced to watch them leave together? Go home together? Oh no. 

No, no, no. 

Please, no. 

Where the hell was Adam?

Maisy glanced at her phone just as it buzzed in her hand. She read the notification, dropping her shoulders and closing her eyes.

"C'mon," she murmured, taking her free hand up to her face and pinching her forehead. "Fuck."

She was so tired. All the fun she'd had with her friends came to an end the moment she saw Harry and that girl talking, and she didn't deserve to have to stand there and watch even more of that. Or to have to hide from her friends. Or to have to stand by herself on a cold night in the middle of the street. All she wanted was to go home, hide under the blankets, and cry. 

"Isy, hey," Niall called, his voice much softer and closer than before. He stood next to her with worry in his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and letting go of whatever he was saying before. "What's wrong?"

Maisy shook her head, taking her hand away from her face and wiping a tear from under her eye. No more crying Maisy. No more crying. 

"Nothing… Just…" She blinked, then stared at her phone. "My uber. He canceled."

"Ok…" Niall tilted his head, trying to get her attention. Or maybe trying to get a look at her face. Or maybe trying to read her emotions. Or maybe just trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Can't you just get another one?"

"Well," she muttered, peering at him through the corner of her eyes whilst sliding her thumb across the screen. "I'm not stupid, am I?"

Niall frowned. "No, I—" 

"What do you think I've been trying to do for the past twenty minutes?"

"Sorry, I—" 

"I can give you a ride," Harry said. 

Both Maisy and Niall jolted, then turned their heads to look at him. Although he kept his distance, Harry had gotten noticeably closer as well, standing only a few inches behind his friend. Niall seemed to notice that, too, taking a step aside and dropping Maisy's shoulder as he turned to give him some space. 

And then, as Harry fixed his forest-green eyes into hers, and as Maisy kept her head turned to the side and stared back at him, the entire world seemed to —  once again — stop around her. There was nothing but empty and silent distance standing between them, and every nerve in her body seemed to tingle. Desperate to run towards him. Desperate to say yes and let him not only take her home but also make her a cup of tea before going to bed. Desperate to let him wrap his arms around her and fall asleep breathing into her neck as if that was something just friends normally did. 

She squeezed her phone between her fingers, tightly, and made sure to hold as much air as possible in her lungs. Because she truly missed him. She missed being his friend, she missed talking to him, she missed answering his calls. She missed making him laugh, and she missed feeling silly next to him. She missed being able to be near him whenever she wanted to, and she missed hugging him just because she could.

But she also really wanted him. And although she had always wanted him, now it was definitely worse. Almost unbearable. Because now, as she looked at his pinkish and soft lips, she also missed feeling them against the curve of her neck. And as she admired his growing facial hair, she also missed feeling the scratchiness under the palm of her hands as she cradled his cheeks and kissed the hell out of him. And as her body quivered under the intensity of his green gaze, she missed the tingling between her legs caused by the strong grip of his manly hands. 

Maisy hadn't been able to taste all of him, but she'd tasted enough to be scarred for the rest of her life. And it hurt to know he didn't want her back. It really did.

"Shit," Niall cursed, then coughed. 

Maisy blinked, finally breaking away from the spell Harry had put her under and facing forward, where her friend was supposed to be. When she didn't find him, though, she straightened up and stepped away from the wall, scanning around the street. 

"Where—"

"I forgot my jacket!" Niall shouted. 

Following his voice, she got a glimpse of him behind Harry, by the front door, already taking a step into the club.

"Be right back guys!"

And just like that the door closed, and there was nobody else around. 

Nobody but her.

And him. 

Nobody but them.

Emptiness dropped in the pit of her stomach, and her chest tightened. 

Shit. 

She took a deep breath in, folding her arms and rubbing her forearm with her free hand. She didn't know where to look. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. Her heart was racing, and she could feel her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Was she supposed to just stand there?!

Peeking at him, she could only see his back. Harry stood ahead of her and to her side, facing the door where Niall had just walked through. Frozen. Hands still inside his pockets, but shoulders more relaxed than before. 

Second went by as silence completely engulfed them. But then he chuckled, looking down and shaking his head while his shoulders moved up and down. 

The sound hit Maisy's brain first, and then it bounced to her chest, suddenly reminding her to breathe again. Her lips curved up, and she licked them before swallowing her feelings down her throat. That was not the time, nor place, to find joy in the sound of his laughter. 

Harry turned around, still laughing. 

"What?" she asked — although she wasn't expecting to. 

"It's just…" He covered his face with one hand, then slid it up his forehead and ran his fingers through his curls. Calming himself down. "Niall."

"Oh…" She furrowed her brows. "Okay?"

"I mean," he added, dropping his hand back down and looking at her. Beaming. Glowing. "He's so fucking stupid. I just remembered he didn't even bring a jacket."

Maisy widened her eyes, then she nodded. "Ohhh…" 

Although she didn't want to, she couldn't help but laugh, too. Maybe not out of happiness, but because Niall could be really silly when he wanted to be. And maybe because it was nice that Harry had felt comfortable enough to share that with her. Maybe because finally, after weeks, they were finally sharing a nice moment together. 

Although, of course, that didn't erase the fact that things weren't okay between them.

She faced forward, across the street and away from him, shaking her head while her entire body shivered. 

"How subtle," she added, placing her folded arms over her stomach and smashing her phone into her side. She still hadn't tried to find another driver, and although she knew she should've, she didn't want to take the risk of having to walk away from him. Not so soon. Not right then. 

"Right?" 

The smile was obvious in his voice, and Maisy was just so hyper-aware of his every moment. Of every detail. Absorbing way more than she'd ever absorbed before. Feeling him way more than she'd ever felt him before. 

And Harry didn't make it easy, because he didn't stop moving. He shuffled on his feet, stepping closer while shoving both hands back into his pockets. He breathed in, then heavily breathed out, taking his time to walk until he was in front of her and she didn't have a choice but to look at him. 

He buried his hypnotizing eyes into hers, and Maisy curled her toes inside her boots — desperate to stay grounded and hold her balance.

Harry didn't look happy, he didn't look mad, and he didn't look sad. 

He looked honest, he looked available, and he looked familiar.

He looked like her best friend.

And it hurt, because there was nothing Maisy wanted more than to go back to what they were before, but as they both stood like that for a moment — silently watching each other, and silently waiting for each other — she realized that it was something she would never get to have again. 

How could she? If she wasn't able to be around him without hiding her feelings anymore? If she wouldn't be able to see him dating someone — falling in love with someone — without feeling betrayed and heartbroken? Maybe she'd misinterpreted his actions before, but now that she knew he didn't feel the same way, it wouldn't be fair to hold it against him. She needed to grow out of her feelings, and in order to do so things needed to change. She wouldn't be able to keep interacting with him like she did before.

"I meant it, you know?" he said, pulling her out of her mind. "About giving you a ride home."

Maisy blinked.

"Thank you," she murmured, shuffling on her feet and shrugging. "I'm just… I don't know if that's a good idea." 

Harry nodded. He looked down and between their feet, then back into her eyes. 

"Just so you know," he said, leaving all traces of playfulness behind, "I'm not leaving with her."

Maisy pulled her eyebrows together, and it took her another pause until she could open her mouth and ask, "W—what?"

"I know you saw me talking to that girl, the one from that night," he explained, taking a short step towards her, "but nothing happened between me and her. And nothing was going to. I swear." 

Maisy blinked.

"Oh, okay." 

There was a pause.

A pause in which, against her better judgment, she didn't avoid the intensity of his eyes. And a pause in which, as seconds went by, she was easily consumed by the calmness, the confidence, and the assurance he exuded.

Still, it was hard to figure out what was happening, or where he was trying to get to. She tried to read his expression, tried to understand his emotions, tried to get a sense of his thoughts. But she couldn't. So she asked, "Why?" 

Harry slid his tongue between his lips, then tilted his head. "Why?"

"Yeah…" Maisy shrugged. "I mean, you were really into her, so… Why?"

He curled his mouth into a timid smile, breathing out his answer as if he couldn't believe he had to say that out loud, "Isy… I was an asshole and hurt your feelings because I wasn't aware of things, but I would never do that knowing—"

"Oh my—"

"—what I know now and—" 

"Stop." She raised her hand, the one still gripping that stupid phone, and Harry closed his mouth. "You don't—" She took a deep breath, putting her thoughts in order. "You don't need to stop yourself just because I have feelings for you."

"No, I know. I—"

"Harry, look," she said, putting her hand down and taking a step back from him. "I never meant for you not to go out with her, ok? Or anyone else, for that matter… I can't stop you from fancying people... So if you want to be with her, I mean, you don't need to stop yourself just… Just because you feel sorry for me, okay?"

He closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath, then dropped his head back and looked at the sky for a moment. He didn't have to say anything for her to know that he was thinking about her words, and that he was taking them in before saying something back to her. 

Maybe that's why Maisy didn't rush him. And why she distracted herself by watching the way his throat flexed when he swallowed, and the way he softly moved his jaw as he chewed his gum. His facial hair was always kind of longer on his neck, and also kind of messier — something she tended to forget, because it wasn't really noticeable unless he threw his head back. Just like then. 

"I know that," he said, once again pulling her out of her mind. "Sorry."

She blinked, watching with blurry eyes as he rolled his shoulders and fixed his eyes back on hers. 

"That came out wrong and it wasn't actually answering your question. I didn't walk away from her because I felt sorry for you. I walked away from her because I didn't want to stay there, because I wasn't—I mean, because I'm not interested."

"Oh…" Maisy barely whispered, his words echoing inside her. Then what… What was he doing? What was she supposed to do with that information? What difference did it make? She breathed out through her nose and licked her lips, squishing her eyebrows together and flinching her head back slightly. "Then why… Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know. I guess…" he said into her eyes, pausing to close his mouth and chew his gum as he took a tiny step closer to her. "I guess I just want to make sure you don't leave tonight thinking something happened between me and her. Because it didn't, and it won't. Not her, not anyone else."

Speechless and breathless, Maisy remained lost inside his eyes. It was hard to make sense of what he was saying, and it was even harder to understand if he meant something else between the lines. Was he making sure she wouldn't cry when she got home? Was he simply protecting a friend? Or was he hoping for something more?

She shook her head and took a step back. See? She couldn't do that. She couldn't be his friend when she would be constantly hoping for something more to be in between the lines. That wasn't healthy. And it wasn't fair. "I— I can't… I—"

"Wait, no!" He took a step forward and raised one arm, then immediately dropped it back to his side. Closing his hand into a fist and opening it up again, he softened the tone of his voice and pleaded, "I'm sorry. I don't… I don't know what to do or… Or what to say to make things right. I don't want to overstep, but I also don't want you to think I don't care about losing you, because I do. I care so much, Isy… And it's been killing me."

"I hate this," she said, dropping her chin down and hiding her face behind her hands. Everything hurt — her stomach hurt, her chest hurt, her head hurt. "I didn't… I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't want this to happen." 

And then, she cried. 

"It wasn't… It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Gimme that," he murmured, closing off the distance and taking her phone away from her hand—and from her face. Maisy sobbed, and tears fell down, but she also chuckled, because even amidst everything, Harry was still the same friend who would point out how it wasn't his fault that her bags were too small to carry her things, and yet would always end up keeping whatever she needed safe into his pockets anyway. 

"I know, ok? I know," he added, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her to fully cry into his chest. "And I'm sorry, ok?" He placed his cheek on the side of her head, speaking into her ear. "I really am. I'm the one who messed everything up and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you cry. And I'm sorry for all the times I made you feel less important than you actually are."

Warmth filled up her body, and she sobbed again, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter while pressing her forehead against her hands, and her hands against his chest. 

"There are so many things I should've done differently when it comes to us… I know that. And I'm sorry, ok? I am. I don't want to lose you, Isy. I really want to fix this. Please let me try to fix it." 

Maisy breathed out through her nose and nodded, letting her hands fall from her face and throwing her arms around his waist. 

"Jesus fucking Christ thanks God," Harry instantly breathed out, smashing her even tighter into him and pushing them both towards the wall.

She blinked her eyes open and chuckled, letting more tears fall down and sniffing while turning her head to the side and pressing her ear against his chest. They both shuffled and stumbled, trying to keep up with their clumsy tiny steps until her back hit the wall. Harry stopped and sighed, and Maisy felt every bit of the relief rushing through him — the way he heavily moved his chest up and down, the way he shivered, the way he squeezed her. It was contagious, and it had her sighing as well. Loosening up all the tension. Melting into him.

"I missed you," he whispered, taking one hand to her head and threading his fingers through her hair. 

He stroked her scalp — just like she loved — and Maisy bit her lip, closing her eyes while getting drunk on his cologne. That was exactly where she wanted to be. How she wanted to be. With his heart thumping loudly into her ear, his warmth enveloping her body, his masculine and strong scent filling her lungs. 

Sniffing again, she took one hand up to her face and wiped under her nose, exhaling a groan through her mouth. "Ugh… I'm a mess."

"I don't care."

Maisy rolled her eyes, rubbing her cheeks as best as she could while still caged inside his arms. "But I do."

"Shhhh…" He swagged them gently, then grabbed her wrist and took it back around his waist. "Got a lot of fixing to do, I know. But I missed this, so let me enjoy it."

She sighed, holding her own forearms as she rested her arms on his lower back. No matter how hard she tried to be mad at him, she didn't feel like she actually could. Harry had overreacted and hurt her feelings, sure, but it had been the first and only slip in a friendship that had already lasted five years. He was a great guy, and she knew that — of course Maisy knew that. And maybe that is why the words ended up rolling out of her mouth so naturally when she said, "I missed this, too."

"Yeah?" He scratched the back of her head with his short nails, then kissed her hair. "Do you think…" — another kiss, and another one—  "Do you think you'll be able to forgive me?"

Hadn't she already? 

"I don't…" She cleared her throat, getting rid of the scratchiness from her previous crying. Staring ahead to the empty street, she nuzzled against his chest, then started again. "I don't think it's about forgiveness… I think… I think I just need time."

"Right," Harry murmured, and a moment of silence lingered between them. "Time for what, exactly?"

"It's just… You already know how I feel about you, and I don't think I can be your friend right now."

"Why not?"

"Harry." She rolled her eyes and pulled away, tilting her chin up to look at him while he followed her lead and angled his head down to look at her. He was close — really close — and she had to withdraw her arms from his back to be able to create some more distance between them. 

Harry moved, too, letting her go and taking half a step back. 

And Maisy hated it. 

She wanted to be glued to him all over again. 

"Don't make this even harder than it needs to be," she added.

"I'm sorry, I'm not… I'm not trying to make this harder. I just want to understand, that's all."

"Is it really that hard to understand that I can't be your friend when I have feelings for you?"

Harry frowned. "To be honest, yes. Why can't we be friends?"

"Oh my God," she laughed, but mostly because she couldn't believe how dense he was. If what he needed was for her to spell it out to him, then she would, but only because she couldn't handle all the weirdness and the running around circles anymore. "Harry, you're not just a friend to me, ok? And when I say that I have feelings for you, that means that I want you, ok? I want you so much Harry, and I can't stop thinking about it. It's like… It's like I can't pretend that I don't anymore because that's all I think about. All the time. Every time I look at you I can't stop thinking about how much I want to be with you, and every time I see you with a girl I can't stop thinking about how much I wish that was me. And maybe it was fine before, but we kissed and now… Now I just… I just can't, ok? That's why I need some time. Because I can't pretend anymore and I can't—"

"Then don't." He stepped closer again, instantly placing his palms on her cheeks and cradling her face. 

Staring into her eyes, Harry was so filled with emotions and so determined to hold her close that her body quivered. And her belly fluttered. And her heart sped up.

Maisy blinked. "What?" 

"Don't pretend you don't." he said, not even once faltering his gaze away from hers. "Let me know how much you want me. I wanna know, ok? I want to know how I make you feel. And I want to keep making you feel this way for me. Or more, or better, I don't know. I just… I want all of this with you. I want you, ok?" 

With widened eyes, Maisy breathed in and out through her nose. Quickly. Shortly. Desperately. Making her chest go up and down erratically. 

"I…" 

No more words came out of her brain, and Maisy froze like that. Blinking at him with parted lips and out of breath. 

Harry's eyes flicked to her mouth, then traveled back to her eyes. With featherly touches, he brushed his thumbs up and down her cheeks, then bowed closer. 

"So don't stay away," he murmured, glancing at her lips once more before closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. "Don't take some time. And don't stop thinking about me. Yeah? I didn't react properly the first time, but I love the fact that you have feelings for me. Don't get rid of them, please."

She grabbed his wrists, keeping his touch in place while closing her eyes, too. "Please don't… Don't say those things if you don't mean them."

He shook his head, and his nose nudged hers. 

"You know I wouldn't," he said, breathing warmly into her face. "I would never—I want you, Isy. I want you and I want you way more than just a friend."

And just like that first time, back at her place, Maisy knew it was about to happen. It was written all over him, and it burned inside her. It made her tremble—out of excitement, out of nervousness, out of fear, and out of anticipation. 

So she squeezed his wrists, and fluttered her eyes open. 

"Let's…" She swallowed, aware of the closeness between them. "Let's get out of here."

Still leaning into her forehead with his eyes open, Harry nodded. He took another moment to breathe in deeply, then opened his eyes, too. 

"Ok," he said, drawing sweet circles around her cheekbones before dropping his hands off her face. He met her palms in the process, though, and they automatically held each other, intertwining their fingers together while stepping away from the wall. "C'mon,  then." 

 

"Niall's going home with Eileen and Josh," Harry said, putting his phone back into his pocket. He threw his arm over Maisy's shoulder and looked side to side, then pulled her closer and guided her to cross the street along with him. "So we're good to go."

Maisy bit her lip and nodded, placing one arm around his waist while holding his hand on her shoulder with the other one. 

Harry had told her he'd parked around the corner and further down the street, and although he'd already driven Maisy home many-multiple-hundred-thousands of times, and for many-multiple-hundred-thousands reasons, it was safe to say she'd never felt that much anticipation about being alone inside his car with him. 

"By the way," he said, leaning to kiss the top of her head and speaking into her hair, "remind me to get him a bottle of something, yeah? Feel like I owe him big time."

She smiled, turning her head to nuzzle into their touching shoulders as Harry took his free hand to the back of her head and stroked her gently. He chuckled and kissed her hair one more time, then faced forward when she did, and dropped his hand to meet her one on his waist. After that, he didn't say anything, neither pressured her to say something back to him, walking in silence as they both hurried to reach their destination.

It was weird, the apparent sudden need they had to be close to each other. To touch each other. Hands grabbing hands, arms giving hugs, sides touching sides. As if they needed reassurance of each other's presence. Or as if they wanted to make sure they wouldn't vanish. 

It'd started as soon as they'd walked away from the club, when they failed so badly at keeping any distance that they kept constantly stumbling into each other's feet. They eventually found a rhythm and a way to hold each other that suited both of them, but that need to stay close (close, close, close) didn't change as seconds—and then minutes—went by. It didn't change when Harry walked to a trash can to spit his gum, and even less when he took his shirt off and placed it over her cold shoulders. It also didn't change when Harry slowed down to get the keys from his pocket, nor when he opened the door of the passenger side for her to get inside.

"So…" he said, placing his hands on her hips and guiding her to stand between him and the opened door, "Where am I taking you now?"

She placed her hands on his chest, now covered only by his white t-shirt, and tilted her head to look up at him. Harry wanted her. He'd said so, and she didn't think he would ever lie to her—not about something like that, at least. And yet, her mind couldn't stop wondering. So instead of guessing the answer, she decided to openly ask him.

"Do you still mean the things you said?"

Harry nodded. "Every single word."

"About everything? I mean, do you really want me?"

Curling his mouth into a smile, he sneaked his hands under her shirt—his shirt—and slid his arms around her waist, resting them on her lower back and right above the curve of her bum. 

"I really, really want you, Isy," he said, straight into her eyes. 

"Why? What changed?"

"Nothing changed," he eagerly answered, and then he slowed down a bit. "I think… I just… I don't know." 

He dipped his chin down and drew his sight off from her eyes, then shuffled slightly on his feet. "I think I just wasn't able to put two and two together by myself… That's all."

He shrugged, and Maisy bit the insides of her bottom lip. 

In five years, she had never pictured a less confident side of him. Harry was the kind of guy that always managed to be proud of himself, and that always found a positive outcome in every situation. All the time. Even in his most embarrassing moments. So it was honestly weird to see him act like that. 

At the same time, the prospect of having new things to learn about him felt really nice. And exciting. Something she wouldn't be able to do if she didn't lay all of her cards on the table. Right there and then.

"That day…" she said, pausing to lick her lips and breathe in. Gathering the strength to point out the thing that had hurt her the most. "Harry, that day you really made me feel like I was getting in your way of—"

"Ugh. I know—" 

"—being with that girl and—"   

"—I know. I'm sorry, 'm sorry." 

He grunted and cursed, pulling her closer and hiding on the curve of her neck. And Maisy let him, closing her mouth and listening to whatever he had to say. Just like she had done that other night.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I don't… I don't have any excuses for the way I reacted. I know that. I—Fuck." Pulling away to look into her eyes again, he took one hand off from her back and placed it on her cheek, tenderly but firmly holding her as he kept talking. "It caught me off guard and I… I fucked up, I know. But I would choose you over absolutely anyone and everyone, Isy. Anytime. No doubts." 

His words hit deeply inside her, and a warm glow flowed all over her. A joyful glow. As if her body had burst with bright, sparkling, and multicolored bubbles. 

So she bit her lip, and twisted the neckline of his t-shirt around her fingers. 

It was hard to know what was the right thing to do. Rationally, her mind told her to not make it so easy for him. To give it some time, and see if he was actually telling the truth. If he actually meant it. 

On the other hand, despite everything, her heart knew what it wanted. She believed his words, she believed he wouldn't intentionally hurt her, and she believed people deserved the benefit of the doubt. More than anything, she also wanted to believe that if she ever made a mistake, the people that she cared about would give her a second chance. So why couldn't she do the same? 

"I know," she said, so softly she wasn't even sure he would be able to hear her. But then Harry brushed his thumb on her cheekbone, acknowledging her words, and she immediately kept going. "And I believe you're sorry. I do. I just… I think I'm scared, or… I don't know. I convinced myself you didn't want to be with me in that way, so… I don't know…" She shook her head. "I don't know."

He nodded, drawing gentle circles on her cheek. "Niall said… He said something about how you don't think I'm attracted to you, is that true?"

Maisy widened her eyes. "Oh my God! Niall told you that?"

"I mean—"

"What else did he say?!"

"Nothing! He just—"

"I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

Harry pursed his lips, and then laughed.

"It's not funny!"

She pinched the exposed skin on his chest, and Harry jolted. 

"Ouch!" He looked back at her with both a frown and a smile on his face. "What was that for?" 

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe for yelling at me for talking to Niall instead of talking to you? And then you talking to Niall instead of talking to me?" 

"Right… Ok, yes. I can see you have a point there, but in my defense—"

"There's no defense!" She pinched him (again), and Harry jolted (again). He took the hand on her face to rub the new stinging inch of skin on his chest, smiling while she kept lashing out at him. "Can't believe you two, honestly! Dickheads! Gossiping like two little—"

"Ok," he said, taking his index finger to her mouth and pressing it into her lips. "Listen to me, woman." 

Maisy narrowed her eyes at him, but she suddenly didn't have anything else to say, so she exhaled heavily through her nose and consented to his demand (albeit silently and annoyingly).

"Good." Staring into her eyes, he slid the pad of his finger side to side, slightly brushing it to her parted lips. "Niall was just calling me out for not letting you know how I feel, ok? That's all." 

Harry glanced at her mouth, then switched his index finger with his thumb. The place he both touched and stared at seemed to buzz, and heat bloomed through her cheeks. From then on, no matter how much she tried to keep paying attention to his explanation, she simply couldn't put the information together anymore.

"Told me you didn't think I fancy you," he added, just as entranced with the movement of his thumb as she felt, "and that you couldn't read my mind, so if I wanted things to change…"

He put more pressure to his finger and pushed his way between her lips, bumping into her teeth. "I had to show you."

Intoxicated and absorbed, Maisy bit into his short nail, holding him there. 

Harry smirked, and met her eyes once again. "Or something like that…"

It was hard to tell what was going through Maisy's mind, then. Mostly because she couldn't care less about her rational thoughts anymore. She didn't want to think anymore. She didn't want to know about Niall's suggestions—or whatever he said—and she didn't want to hear Harry's apologies anymore. All she wanted was to feel, so that's exactly what she did.

Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she leaned in, then slithered her teeth through his nail, stopping where the skin of his thumb began. His fingertip rested on the tip of her tongue, and her belly quivered and swirled in expectation of his reaction. 

To her delight, Harry sank his shoulders and gawked at her. Some new, dazzling determination took over him, and even his eyes seemed to darken as he shifted his arm around her lower back and pulled her closer. Gripping at her side with one hand, he moved his other one and got deeper into her mouth, pressing his thumb in, in, in, until her teeth clamped around his first knuckle. 

Maisy molded her lips around his shortest and chubbiest digit, keeping it locked between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She tasted him softly, running slow circles with her tongue while still watching him. Harry faintly smirked, so much that it was almost undetectable, and she took that as a challenge. Because she wanted more. She wanted more reactions, and she wanted more actions. So she placed both of her hands around his wrist and closed her eyes, then sucked his finger in. 

Harry stiffened at first, and then he cursed, breathing out heavily through his mouth while taking a tiny step forward and spreading his other four fingers open on her face. 

"Damn, Isy…" he murmured.

The admiration, pride, and approval in his voice cracked something inside her, and a very familiar feeling pulsed through her veins. It made her go all slippery and quivery. And it brought wet heat between her legs.

Bold and fearless, Maisy swirled her tongue and hummed. Making it dirtier than it needed to be. Making it louder. Making it wetter. 

And he didn't seem to mind it. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it just as much and encouraged her to go even further, moving his thumb side to side while digging his other four fingers into the skin of her cheek and neck. 

It was so good. So unexpected. And so desperate. 

To put so much energy into something like sucking a finger. To feel herself going mindless as she tightened his wrist between her hands and brought him closer, then sucked him deeper. Breathing in and out through her nose, then completely forgetting about their surroundings and pushing her head down to fit his whole finger inside. And losing herself as she sucked. And sucked. All over again. 

"Jesus Christ," Harry murmured, backing her into the back door of his car, tilting her head up and pulling his thumb off from her mouth. "That's enough." 

Everything happened so fast, that before she could even process the information or blink her eyes open, Harry had already pressed his lips to hers in a desperate move. 

They first met awkwardly and clumsily, hitting each other's cheeks and chins. But then Harry cradled her jaw and kept her in place, taking the lead and capturing her lips for a much hungrier and experienced kiss. 

A soft tingle ran between her legs, and Maisy moaned softly, so softly she barely even noticed it. She dragged her hands up to his shoulders, then to his neck, and to the back of his head. Harry hummed, and she threaded her fingers between his curls and tugged, standing on her tiptoes and parting her lips to take things further. Searching for his tongue while he searched for hers. Tasting each other with the same devotion and effort she had just tasted his thumb. Moving in perfect sync, and making sure to taste every corner and every inch.

Harry dropped his hand from her face to her bum, giving it a rough and forceful squeeze and sucking all the air around them through his nose. 

Maisy hummed, holding onto his hair tightly as she rolled her hips forward. Harry smirked into the kiss, then slid his other arm down, filling both of his hands with her ass. He squeezed her again, this time digging his nails into both of her cheeks and pulling her forward while he also stepped closer, and finally fully pressing their hips together. 

His growing bulge nudged between her legs, and a gasped moan came out of her throat. 

"Fuck," he breathed out, breaking the kiss to roll his hips on hers. 

"Oh God…" she sighed, taking the opportunity to drag her wet lips to his jaw. That was so embarrassing. Maisy had to stop. She really had to stop. She needed to stop. They both needed to stop. And yet she couldn't. She didn't want to. Because Harry was getting hard while making out with her. She could feel him pressed against her hips and she didn't want to lose the feeling. She didn't want to step away. So she didn't. She moved her mouth thoughtlessly, instead, savoring as much as she could of him. Feeling his stubble under her tongue, and his scent under her nose.

"Fuck," he murmured, timidly rubbing himself up and down her front. "That's…" He swallowed. "Feels good, baby." 

Maisy hummed, mapping kisses from his jaw, to his ear. She tangled her fingers around his curls, holding her weight while speaking softly and as close to him as she could. "Take me home, Haz." 

"Mhmm…" Harry nodded, his hair brushing her temple. 

She moved back towards his cheek, leaving a wet trail behind while making his mouth her final destination. 

"Please?" she asked, then kissed him shortly. 

"Sure." He nodded again, leaning in— "Anything you want." —and kissing her again.

Maisy smiled. The way he seemed enraptured by her was cute and sweet, but also extremely arousing. She could only imagine the things they would do under the influence of that dynamic, and she couldn't wait to find out. But the only way she would be able to do all the things she wanted to do was if they weren't standing in the middle of the street, only two blocks and a half away from their friends. So she sucked his bottom lip and pulled away, letting it slide softly between her teeth while stroking his scalp.

"Now," she whispered, watching him stand there, at her mercy, with closed eyes and parted mouth. "Take me home, Harry, please."

He opened his eyes. 

"Wha—" He licked his lips, and shook his head. "I mean, yes." Out of breath, he nodded once, and then twice, and then thrice. "Yeah. Ok. Home. Yes." 

Maisy giggled. Still caressing the back of his head, she flinched her chin back and pulled away slightly, only to be able to watch him better. "You okay?"

"Dunno. Think 'm high right now."

She frowned, holding herself from laughing any louder than she should. "High?!" 

"Mhm. Pretty sure I got high from your kisses."

"Oh my God." Maisy snorted. She placed her hands on his shoulders and shoved him off, but his hands on her ass didn't allow her to put any actual distance between them.

"Think I developed an addiction—"

"Shut up." 

"—and your mouth is my drug—" 

" — Harry! — "

" — I need more — " 

" — You're ridiculous—"  

" — Gimme more — "

He kissed her again, and although Maisy couldn't stop laughing at how lame and silly he was, she still kissed him back. He smirked, seemingly proud of her reaction, then moved his large hand to her face and cradled her cheek, leading the way into a much slower and tender pace. His mouth was suddenly gentle, moving carefully while discovering a new side of their relationship. Not a desperate and hungry version, like it'd been up until then, but a smooth and thoughtful one. Made of sweet and calm kisses. Of gentle pecks, and timid tugs. Of wet lips, and honest affection. 

Eventually, their eagerness toned down, dissolving into a different kind of longing for each other. Less desperate on one hand, but much more intense on the other. 

Harry sighed, then broke off the kiss. 

"Let's go," — he pecked her lips one — "then." — two — "Let's go home." — three — "Mine," — four times — "Or yours?" 

One last kiss, lingering longer than the others, and Maisy finally blinked her eyes open. Harry's hand was warm on her cheek, and she felt herself needily nuzzling against it. She took a minute to catch her breath, and also to adjust to the dim lights, taking the opportunity to meet his touch with her own hand and turning her face just enough to press a kiss to his palm. Then, she whispered, "Yours… Take me back to yours."

He leaned in to kiss her temple, then brushed his lips on her skin as he spoke. "Back to mine it is, then."

— — — — —

In five years, Harry had already driven Maisy home, to the grocery store, to parties, from parties, to work, from work, to the hospital, to Niall's, and even back to her parents house. 

In the process, Maisy had watched him a lot. She had watched him enough to memorize the way he would spread his legs and switch his foot between pedals, the way he would relax into the car seat and blindly shift gears, or the way he would place his elbow by the window and hold the steering wheel with one hand. More than not, she'd admired him secretly, too pent-up to say anything, and too afraid to let him show how much he affected her. Only a few times she had been brave enough to praise him out loud, although usually hiding behind some joke about how much he tried to look cool while driving, and never admitting how deeply attracted to him she actually felt. 

That day though, as he drove them back to his apartment, whilst everything seemed to be still the same between them, everything seemed to be just as different and new. Because now, while she watched him turn the steering wheel, she also couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened in the middle of the street. And now, as she watched him flex his arms and shift gears, she also couldn't stop thinking about the feeling that kept dripping out between her legs.

"You're staring," Harry said, stopping at the traffic light. He turned his head to the side and smiled, sliding his now free hand against hers and intertwining their fingers once again.

Biting her lip, Maisy tried her best not to beam at him. It was useless, though, and her mouth ended up curling into the biggest and most genuine grin. 

"I am," she laughed, then shrugged. "You look hot when you drive."

Harry widened his eyes, but there was a twinkle behind his gaze that made her feel comfortable about his reaction. As if the shock of her words did nothing but please him. 

"Hot?" He squeezed her palm. "You think?" 

Maisy nodded. 

"I do, yeah… It's just… Hard to look away."

"Hmm…" Slowly, he let go of her hand, then placed his palm on her thigh, spreading his fingers open and digging them slightly into her flesh. "Keep looking, then."

Heat spread under her skin, and goosebumps rose all over. Harry's hand was large and heavy, and it covered so much of her leg that it was hard not to pay attention to it, or to ignore how close it was to a place she didn't think he would ever actually be. And yet a place that he had teased just minutes earlier. A place that he had rolled and pressed himself against. A place that he had fully woken up that night. 

And judging by the way he grasped her in that exact moment, and by the way he had touched her earlier—so thirsty to squeeze and press her closer—Maisy knew he would be good at… Everything. She knew he would be the one to match the expectations no other guy had been able to match up until then. And she knew that he would be the one to set her body on a whole new level of fire. Not because other guys hadn't been good—after all she'd had some pretty great sexual experiences in her life—but because he was different to her. They felt different. 

And she wanted to get a taste of that. She wanted to have him. She wanted him to touch her. And she wanted it all right now. 

"Ugh." Maisy shuffled on the passenger seat and looked away from him, watching the empty street and covering the back of his hand with her palm. "Why is your place so far away?"

Harry smirked, and although she couldn't see him, she could feel the burning of his eyes all over her chest. 

"It's not, actually," he said, so low and so husky that it felt almost calculated. As if he knew the effect it would have on her. "I think you're just eager to get there." 

He squeezed her thigh, getting his fingertips just a little bit deeper into her, and Maisy faced him again. 

If he wanted to play that game, then she would play it just as well. 

Staring into his eyes, she scooched down a little, then dragged his hand along with hers. Sliding it just an inch up through her thigh. "I think I am, yes." 

His gaze faltered for a moment, dropping down to where she was guiding their touch. Maisy bit her lip, enjoying his attentiveness, and kept moving their hands, stopping only when his pinky finger reached the crease between her thigh and her pelvis. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed her body, pinching her flesh with his fingers. 

Maisy sighed, hypnotized on how pretty and hot and cute and manly he looked. All at the same time.

"Aren't you?" she asked, making sure her voice acted as a mirror of her current feelings, and sharing with him the sensual and confident side of her. One she had never been able to show him before, but was dying to.  

Harry licked his lips and exhaled through his nose, then looked back at her face. He blinked a couple of times, then asked, "Hm? Am I what?" 

Holding back a smile, she slid her fingers up his wrist, freeing his hand from her touch at the same time she brought her other hand around and placed it on her other inner thigh. 

"Eager," she murmured. She squeezed her own leg, just like he'd done it before, and made her way up to the place her body most wanted him to be. "To get home… And touch me." 

"Jesus Christ." Harry looked between her legs and swallowed, sinking his nails so deeply into her flesh that Maisy couldn't help but hiss at the pain. 

Moving her palm from her inner thigh to the back of his hand, she finally directed him to her burning and aching center. She circled her other fingers around his forearm, holding tightly onto him, and rolled her hips timidly, subtly. Almost as if she didn't want him to see it—but also making sure he would not only see it, but that he would also feel it.

"I want you to touch me," she murmured, rolling her hips for a second time.  

He dug the heel of his palm between her legs, then pressed his fingertips onto her center. "I can see that."

"You don't want to?"

Harry glared at her. Something seemed to have snapped inside him, and his voice got darker when he asked, "What do you think?"

Maisy shrugged, trying hard to create complete, full, coherent sentences while Harry's hand was finally there. "I hope you do. And that I'm not embarrassing myself."

He stroked his fingers through her wetness, curling his fingers and meeting his own palm as he grabbed between her legs—so harshly and so firmly that Maisy closed her eyes and squirmed on the passenger seat. She gasped quietly, leaning into his arm and pressing her forehead near his shoulder. Fully letting him take over the situation. 

"I like this side of you." He loosened up his fingers, then moved them up and down, over and over again, spreading her wetness as best as he could despite the layers of clothes that covered her. "Almost made me lose my game over there. But look at you now… Did you always feel like this?"

"Oh God," she mouthed onto his bicep. The fabric of her pants, plus her thong, didn't allow her to feel him properly, but she felt enough to quiver from head to toe, and enough to make her want more. 

She spread her legs wider, and Harry increased the pressure and speed of his stroke, moving his fingers faster and more forcefully. 

"Tell me, did you always feel like this when I drove you places?" he insisted. "Did I always make you this wet?"  

Maisy nodded, and grunted.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know it's—It's kinda inappropriate, isn't it? I—Sorry—" 

"Shh,shhh… It's not." Harry rubbed her covered entrance in circles. Quick circles, experienced circles, making her get wetter and wetter. "Wish I knew sooner, that's all." 

He focused on performing his task with only one finger, then, pressing it between her lips and then rubbing circles in search for that spot that would drive her insane. As soon as he found it, Maisy jolted and moaned, unable to contain herself anymore. 

Still holding onto his arm, she recovered the strength on her other hand, covering his knuckles and fingers and guiding his touch once again. She helped him so he could touch her like she wanted him to, so he could keep pressing and stroking her exactly where she needed him to, and before she could notice it, she was fully rolling her hips on their connected hands. Searching for more friction. Desperate for relief. 

Harry groaned, and she arched her back. He pressed faster, and faster. And she was there. Almost there. So, so, so almost there. 

She just needed some more rolling, just like that, some more gasping, oh God, yes, and then— 

And then someone honked behind them. 

They both jumped. Maisy pressed her legs together and covered her center with one hand, while Harry straightened up and stretched his arm across her chest—as if that would hide her the flush from her cheeks, or the desperation from her breath, or the lust from her eyes. 

The car behind them honked again. And again. 

"Wha—" 

"Green," she breathed out, pointing to the traffic light while her chest moved up and down. Up and down. Up and down. 

And the car behind them honked, again.

"Shit," Harry mumbled, letting go of Maisy to shift gears and press the clutch pedal, then easily letting it go again. "Sorry… Sorry."

Still out of breath, she kept her legs pressed together and nodded. "Yeah, I—Yeah…" 

He sped up before pressing the clutch pedal and shifting gears again, driving as fast as he could through the city. 

Maisy clenched her thighs, then between her legs, and shuffled on her seat. 

Peeking at her, Harry sighed. 

"Shit. I'm sorry."

Maisy nodded again. How long did they just spend there? Stupidly parked at a traffic light? And how many green lights did they ignore? 

"You ok?" he asked, eyes on the road and both hands on the steering wheel. 

She shifted and rearranged herself, feeling the burning desire between her legs turn into sticky coldness. 

"Yeah… I just…" Maisy said, watching the neighborhood through the window and chuckling lightly. "I forgot we were there."

"I know, me too," Harry laughed. "Shit. Completely lost track of time, too." 

"Mhm." 

She laughed. 

And then they both laughed.

Peeking at her again, Harry grabbed her hand one more time, pulling it from her lap and taking it to his mouth. 

"Don't worry, by the way." He kissed the back of her hand, then took their connected hands to shift gears. "I'll take care of you as soon as we get home."

She smiled, then intertwined her fingers with his. "Mhm. You better." 

 

"Ok," Harry said, turning the steering wheel and straightening out the tires. He put the car into neutral and lifted the handbrake, then took his feet off the pedals and twisted the ignition key. The engine stopped working, but silence didn't have enough time to settle before he tapped her leg twice and spoke again, "Get out." 

He stepped out of the car, and Maisy blinked. Smiling to herself, she shook her head and reached to open her door, but Harry was already there, doing the job for her and offering his hand for her to hold. 

She narrowed her eyes, and looked up at him. 

"C'mon," he said, wiggling his fingers. "Out."

She opened her mouth to call him out for his demanding tone, but ended up snorting and chuckling, instead. 

"Well, look who's eager now," she muttered, taking his offer and grabbing his hand, then getting out and stepping aside. 

The last five minutes of the drive to his place had been completely silent, and although his promise of taking care of her as soon as they got home lingered between them, all the events of that day had finally started catching up with her brain while Harry's thumb soothed the back of her hand and she watched the streets go by through the window. Tiredness and sleepiness got a hold of her muscles, and her thoughts worked at a much slower pace than before. So whilst she still found herself desperate to get to his apartment, she also wouldn't have complained about taking a short nap first. 

"To be fair," he said, "been eager since I first saw you tonight." 

He slammed the door shut, and its bang echoed around the parking lot. Maisy looked around, fixing her outfit while Harry moved to stand in front of her. He seemed to be the only neighbor who hadn't been in the building that night, all the other spots already occupied by different types of cars. Other than that, everything was quiet, as if they were the only two people awake in the entire town. 

"What happened to building maintenance?" she murmured. 

Harry tilted his head and smiled, placing his hands on her hips and caging her between his body and his car. "Building maintenance?"

Looking over his shoulder, Maisy rested her hands on his chest and shrugged. It hadn't always been intense, gray darkness and dim lights, had it? She usually walked into the building through the front door, so she couldn't remember the last time she'd been there, but she was pretty convinced it used to look more appealing than… That. 

"Yes. Half of the bulbs are gone," she pointed out.

He lifted his hands to her face, brushing his thumb over her jawline while sliding the other four to the back of her neck. "Are they?"

Guiding her to look at him, he tilted his chin down and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. 

Maisy sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying his softness. "Mhmm…"

He pulled away, only enough to murmur, "Didn't notice." 

And then he kissed her again. Curling his mouth around her bottom lip and getting a taste of it, then letting it go and repeating the process with the upper one. 

Kind of dizzy, Maisy dropped her palms to his waist, grasping at his t-shirt for some balance  just as he tilted her head to the side and drifted his kisses to her cheek. 

"It's just…" She swallowed, keeping her eyes shut and focusing on the way his wet lips caressed her skin. "Kinda dark… Isn't it?"

Harry hummed, pressing more and more kisses. He took his time moving towards her ear, meanwhile drawing small circles on her lower jaw and pushing her body against the closed door. 

"It is dark, yes," he said, brushing his nose next to her ear and allowing every word to resonate inside her. "Means no one can see us."

Maisy rested her weight on his car, and Harry waved both hands up through her hair, holding it into a ponytail. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulled her head back, then moved his kisses down to her neck. 

God. That felt good. 

Really good.

He kissed her again. And again, and again, and again. Parting his lips slightly and making it wet. Making it sweet. Making it noisy. Hmmmm…

She parted her lips, breathing heavily through her mouth. Heat seemed to rush to every spot he touched, and she could feel her pulse racing in her throat.

So good.

"I mean," she barely managed to say. "Maybe… Someone… Could…"

He hummed again, a little longer this time, letting her know he was listening even though he seemed much more preoccupied about covering her throat with warm, needy and calculated kisses. 

"Yes…" He parted his lips wider, pressing them where her neck met her shoulder and sliding his tongue up and down. Wet, and warm. Once, and twice. "Maybe." 

Harry knew what he was doing, tracing a dreamy and sensual path from one side to the other with his plump and juicy lips. Sucking slightly even now and then, soothing with his tongue, teasing with his teeth. Using his large hands to tilt her head as he pleased. Letting her know how careful and affectionate he could be, but also showing off his power and strength. 

Maisy's heart skipped a beat, and her legs weakened.

"Wanna risk it?" he asked, breathing hot air into her ear.

Twisting her hands around his t-shirt, Maisy opened her eyes. She licked her lips and swallowed, putting herself together and finding the last remains of energy to say something back to him. 

Truth be told, there was something about being the only two in that dark parking lot that made her feel excited to keep going. The danger was a turn on, and there was no other person that could ever make her feel as safe as Harry did, so she knew that if there was a time to be brave and risk it all, that would be it.  

At the same time, the idea of getting caught by one of his neighbors—people she more than often encountered in the elevator or walking in the hallway—brought nervousness to the pit of her stomach. It was one thing to make out passionately and let others know how much you were into someone, but getting caught naked and mid-orgasm was completely different. At least when it came to Maisy, of course.

"That eager, huh?" she asked, facing the ceiling and waiting for him to tilt her head back down. "Can't even make it to the fourth floor?"

Her question put a smirk on his face, and it granted her wishes, causing Harry to tighten the grip of his fingers and guide her to look at him again. 

"That eager, yes." He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose up and down her own. "Can you blame me?"

He let go of her hair and slid his fingers down, brushing the tips on each side of her neck. 

"Been thinking about you in this outfit since I first saw you tonight." 

He traced her collarbones, then breezed from her shoulders to her forearms, sliding his own shirt off from her arms, and then going all the way back up to her chest once again. 

Her flesh prickled at his touch, and a brief shiver rippled through her, causing Harry's smirk to get even wider.

Just like before, his reaction was enough to snap something inside her. Because even though she enjoyed taking orders and being compliant to someone else's wishes, Maisy didn't enjoy giving all her power away. Not all at once, at least.

So she looked down at her own body, let Harry's shirt hang on her elbows, and raised her eyebrows. 

"This outfit?" she asked, as if she hadn't bought that top specifically for that night. Or as if she had never heard Harry talking to the boys about bloody gorgeous tits before. Or as if she wasn't proud of the curves she had to offer. Or as if she hadn't hoped of getting his attention when she'd put the pieces together and stared at herself in the mirror earlier in the afternoon. 

"Mhmm…" He grabbed the spaghetti straps between his fingers, then followed their path from her shoulders to her chest. "This outfit."

She glanced up again, then watched him carefully and patiently, fluttering her eyelids while drowning her voice in innocence and naivety. "What about it?" 

"Do I really need to say it?"

Maisy nodded. "I would like you to, yes."

Harry hummed, and looked down at her chest. He toyed with the thin straps a little longer, hooking each one inside of his fingers and running through them up and down. 

If Maisy would've had to guess, she would've thought he was pondering his next words. Weighing them up. Choosing them carefully. Making sure they wouldn't go unnoticed, and therefore making sure she wouldn't go unaffected. She'd seen Harry flirting so many times, that she knew how much liked the thrill of the chase. She'd also shared a lot of conversations with him about the subject, so she knew how much he cared about making other people feel good, even when he knew it wouldn't go further than a one night stand—although even if she hadn't talked to him about it, she knew that making people feel good was a trait that played a huge part in who Harry was; not only when dating or hooking up, but just in general.

"Well," he eventually said, clearing his throat and answering her question. "I mean, I didn't want to be disrespectful at the club, but…" 

He moved his hands, leaving the straps of her top behind and tracing its edge instead.

"To be completely honest…" He brushed the tips of his index and middle fingers across her cleavage. Teasingly and featherly. Eying his own movements. Scanning the patterns he drew all over the swell of her breasts. "And only because you're asking…"

He paused to glance into her eyes, then slid his tongue between his lips and looked back down to his hands. 

"I couldn't stop staring at these," he finally added. 

Maisy's skin tingled, and her insides quivered. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the way his fingers made her feel. Enjoying the fact that he'd been staring at her breasts. And enjoying even more the idea of him filling his hands with them and giving both a forceful squeeze. Shit. She swallowed. 

Her heart hammered in her ears, though, and her lungs didn't seem to keep up with so much information. She knew Harry could feel her chest moving up and down frenziedly under his touch, meaning that, once again, it would be impossible for her to hide how breathless he made her feel. 

So she would have to use it in her favor, instead.

Shifting on her feet, she leaned fully into the car and breathed in deeply, filling up her chest and pressing her cleavage briefly into his hands. Then, she exhaled through her nose, leaving Harry's fingers running over empty air. 

"And?" she asked, feeling herself taking control once again. "What's your verdict?" 

He peeked at her and took a step forward, fingers finding her again. "My verdict?" 

"Mhm. You like them?" 

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and nodded, letting her know he understood the question.

Focusing on one breast, he moved his index finger up and down, drawing a straight line, then repeating the process an inch or two to the side. 

"I think they're gorgeous," he said, connecting the two lines with a horizontal stroke. 

Maisy smiled. "Thanks. I think so, too."

Harry smiled, too, then moved to her other breast. "You do, huh?"

Once again, he traced two vertical lines, and connected them horizontally with a third one. 

"Mhmm…" 

"Can't see why you wouldn't." He reached her sides and drifted down, roaming through her ribcage. "Can't see why anyone wouldn't." 

He got past the exposed skin of her waist, then to the waistline of her pants.

"These are really nice, too." He sneaked four fingers between the fabric and her stomach, leaving only his thumb out as he grabbed onto the waistline and pulled her forward. Maisy gasped quietly, almost unnoticeable, stumbling on her feet while Harry skimmed his other hand down through her belly. "But I bet this one" —he tilted his chin down while she tilted her head up, and then he cupped between her legs, fully palming and covering her heat— "looks better." 

Maisy snorted, pressing herself into his touch. "Wouldn't you like to know?" 

Holding each other's gazes, they both smirked. 

Harry pushed his hand into her, backing her up and forcing her into the cold car while stepping forward. "Am I supposed to pretend I'm not dying to take your clothes off?" 

Maisy shrugged. "I mean, I would rather if you got right into it, but if you want to keep playing games…" 

Harry's smirk faded away. He rubbed his fingers up and down, making sure to stroke from one side to the other. Harsher. Fully. From her entrance, to her front. Just like he'd done earlier that day. But somehow even better.

Oh God. Maisy blinked, then moved her palms up to his arms, holding tightly onto him while flickering her eyes all over his face. 

Something had happened. 

There were no traces of playfulness or teasing anymore. No more smirks, no more cluelessness. No more fake oblivion. No more mulling over his words. 

Harry looked focused and determined. Sure of himself. And yet ready to crumble. 

"'M not playing games," he stated, touching her. Always touching her. "Would never play games with you."

Oh. The information clicked inside her mind, and she squeezed his arms. "I—I know."

She hadn't meant it like that, and she knew Harry wasn't messing around with her. He wouldn't do that. If he didn't want her, then he wouldn't be with her. Simply as that. 

"Good." He slid his foot between her boots and parted her legs, then spread them even wider with his knee. "Now, I'd really like to make you cum." 

Applying more pressure to his hand, he rubbed circles, just like she'd guided him earlier.

Ohh… Maisy fluttered her eyelids, then fully closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan and turning it into a soft whine, instead. 

"Can I make you cum, pretty girl?" 

Turning the corners of her mouth up, Maisy nodded. 

"Right here?" He moved faster. "Right now?" 

Oh God. She swallowed, then slid her tongue through her parted lips and glanced at him.

"I—Oh God—" The words flew out from her mind to her mouth, and she dropped her forehead to his chest. "Are there—Shit—Are there cameras here?" 

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Then—"

"We can barely afford light bulbs. Or so I've heard." 

"Oh my God," she chuckled, twisting his t-shirt inside her fingers as the feeling grew more and more intense with each stroke. "Shut up, and—Oh God… Just… Fuck."

"Yes?" he asked, the smile clear in his voice. 

She breathed in and out, heavily and loudly, and slid one hand from his arm to her own waist. Pulling away from his chest, she stared into his green eyes and unbuttoned her pants. 

"Touch me." And then, she unzipped them. "Now." 

Harry smirked. He looked around and over his shoulder, then stood by her side and pushed her further towards the front of the car, closer to the wall. Maisy sighed, and relaxed. It was good to know they were in sync. That no matter how much they wanted to do that, none of them got to the point of disrespecting each other's—or other people's—boundaries. 

And then, he sneaked his hand inside her pants, and every one of her worries and random thoughts vanished away. She focused on him, and on the things he did to her. She focused on the way he stood straighter and stretched his arm, then got in between the lace of her thong and the warmth of her skin. She focused on the way he stepped forward and relaxed his body into her side, too, throwing his free arm around her neck while angling his other forearm to get his fingertips past her hair, and right into her wet flesh. 

"Fuck."

"Fuck."

They looked at each other for a second, and then they both chuckled, simultaneously leaning in for a whole new kiss. 

"Fucking finally…" Harry mumbled. 

He dipped his middle finger between her folds and stroked it up and down, collecting her wetness and spreading it around. Maisy shivered, and her hips jerked forward, almost against her will. With a grunt, Harry pulled his hand off from her pants and broke the kiss, bringing his middle finger to his mouth and sucking it in. 

He closed his eyes when tasting her, and Maisy's body got on fire. Grabbing his t-shirt into fists, she pulled him closer, then licked her way around his jaw. Tasting whatever inch she could reach, and as much as she could, while he put his hand back inside her pants. 

"C'mere." He kissed her again, and dipped his fingers between her folds again. Stroking them up and down. Spreading her open. Getting to know every corner of her. 

Maisy sighed. She moved her hands, grabbing his neck, and his bicep, then let her body react to his wonderful, skillful fingers. His never stopping fingers. Stroking up and down, up and down. Rubbing circles. Pressing her clit. Rubbing her clit. So good. So, so good.

"Oh God." She leaned into him, moving her hips and searching for more friction. "Harry…" 

"Yeah?" 

More. She needed more. 

"Ugh," she practically whined, opening her eyes. "Touch me." 

"I am touching you."

She smacked his shoulder. "Then touch me more."

Harry laughed, then quickly kissed her again. He hunched slightly and pressed his middle finger inside her. Just barely, though, not even making it to his first knuckle before freezing and kissing the corner of her mouth.

"Like this?"

"More."

Half an inch forward. 

"Like this?" 

"Oh my God!" She grabbed his wrist, and glared at him. "I hate you so much right now!" 

He smiled, kissing her cheek, and her chin, then her mouth. "No you don't."

Maisy rolled her eyes. "I do, yes." 

"Hmmm." 

With half of his middle finger still inside her, he pressed one side of his hand on her clit, then went back to rubbing circles.

She let go of his wrist and placed both hands on his shoulders, then threw her head back and rolled her hips back and forth. 

"You said you'd make me cum…"

Keeping the steady movement of his hand, Harry kissed her cheek. 

"You're right, baby."

Baby.

Maisy throbbed between her legs, then squeezed her eyes shut. 

"I did say that," he added, and she huffed. 

"So make me, damnit."

"Alright baby," —he bent his knees, then pushed his middle finger deep inside her— "Alright."

Oh. 

Maisy moaned. 

He slid his hand and pushed his finger out. Then thrusted back inside. Curving it, he pressed it against her wall, searching for that spot that would drive her insane. When he found it,  Maisy's knees wobbled, and she melted into him.

"Oh God." She looked into his eyes, breathing from her mouth while he stared back at her. 

"Yeah?" Out. And in. Hitting into that same spot one more time. "Right there?"

She bit her lip, and nodded. "Mhmmm…" 

He pulled his lonely finger out, then pushed two inside. Aiming for that same delicious spot, over and over again. Making her feel good—so, so good. 

She held onto him, hypnotized as she watched the beautiful green of his eyes, and he threaded his free hand through her hair, pulling her till his lips were against her temple. Breathing into her while he worked his strong fingers inside her. Pumping so hard that she could hear her dripping wetness in the dead-silent parking lot. 

"God…" She bit her lip. "I dreamed about this for so long." 

"Yeah? Is it like you dreamed it would be?"

"Much… Much better." 

Harry sighed, then tightened the grip around her hair and tilted her face to the side. "C'mere." 

He kissed her firmly, then, connecting their lips and keeping them together while he tried his best to angle his arm and hit the spot hidden inside her. 

"Fuck…" She moaned into his mouth. "Can you… Oh God… Can you make it three?" 

He hunched down, wriggling inside her pants to adjust his hand. 

"Shit." He pulled away from her mouth and looked over his shoulder, then back at her. "Can't with these pants… And I don't want to undress you here…"

Maisy nodded. "Okay."

"Sorry." He pumped in and out again.

"It's—It's fine, I just… I need more." 

"Then I'll give you more." 

He pulled his fingers out and held her tightly with his palm, then spinned her body around. Pressing his chest to her back and hovering over her shoulder, he held her body firmly with his other arm, and proceeded to work between his legs. He pressed one finger to her clit and rubbed circles, gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his movements. The new position allowed him to relieve some of his own tension, too, rocking his hardening bulge against her ass. 

Maisy melted into his hold, throwing her arm up and around his neck and holding tightly onto him while moving her hips back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

That was so much better. 

Oh God.

He squeezed her tighter, keeping her in place while he made sure to give her everything she needed and wanted. More pressure, more speed. Kisses to her neck, and to her jaw. Breathing hotly into her ear.

"Yes, yes." She pulsed, throbbed, and quivered. "Oh God." 

Harry moved steadily, but faster. Pushing her further, and further.

"That's it, baby," he murmured into her ear. "That's it. C'mon."

He pushed her further and further. And even further. 

Until Maisy finally exploded, shuddered, and trembled. 

''Ah!" 

She fell forward, and Harry grabbed her. Pulling her upright, and driving her through her climax. Out of breath and numb, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed him. Silently begging for him to stop.

He complied and pulled his fingers away from her clit, soothing her and shushing her when she hissed. But then he removed his hand from her pants and automatically took it up to his mouth, licking and sucking the mess she'd made while humming next to her ear. As if she was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

Maisy moaned, almost painfully, holding onto his arm around her waist and instinctively drawing circles with her ass up and down his length. 

"Please. Please. Just take me upstairs now." 

— — — — —

The walk to the fourth floor happened in a rush. They didn't let go of each other while walking, nor stopped kissing or touching when they got inside the elevator. And by the time they were inside the living room, Harry's t-shirt was already on the floor and Maisy's boots were long forgotten by the door. 

They blindly guided each other around the furniture, kissing and touching while they unbuttoned each other's pants. Harry's were the first to get lost on the hallway, and Maisy didn't miss one second before feeling him up through his briefs. He grunted and sighed, chasing her mouth while encouraging her to take the rest of her clothes off. 

Maisy stumbled as they got inside his bedroom, and they both laughed, having to slow down and take a deep breath before moving on. But then she sat on the foot of the bed and Harry kneeled in front of her, going along with every single one of her movements and helping to undress her. 

He kissed her legs, and moved his lips up her body, losing himself with her scent when he nuzzled his nose between her legs. He kissed her on top of the laced thong, and then pulled the item off her body. He moved up, and they captured each other's mouths once again. Kissing, sucking, nibbling. He felt her up, and she felt him up. She squeezed him with her palm, and traced him with her fingers. He breathed in and out heavily from her mouth, too worked up to properly kiss her. And then she kissed his bottom lip, holding it and sucking it into her mouth as she slid into the elastic of his briefs and finally touched him. 

Harry moaned. So raw, manly, and helpless at the same time that it made her smile. 

She stroked him up and down, then. Up and down, up and down. He was full, firm, and hot under her hand. Rigid. Solid. His own neediness had already gotten him wet, but not enough for her hand to slide as smoothly as she would've liked, so she pulled it off and brought it to her mouth. 

Harry took the opportunity to take the last item off, his shaft hitting his stomach and making him hiss. He stroked himself, crawling over her body before diving into her neck. 

Maisy squirmed, and moaned. She searched for his hand, and once she grabbed it, she pulled it directly to her chest. 

"Want them in your mouth," she murmured, squeezing her breast with the help of his hand. 

Harry buckled his hips into hers, and cursed into her skin. He sat on his heels and brought her along by her arms, then pulled at the sleeves of his own shirt to take it off her body. 

"Tomorrow morning you're wearing this again," he said, holding up his shirt in his hand and then throwing it to the floor. "And I'm gonna fuck you in it." 

Maisy smiled. "Yes, sir." 

He sighed then shook his head, and she giggled. Lifting one arm, she unzipped her top with the other one. Harry helped her get rid of it, and then he was all over her body once again. Snuggling into her chest and parting his mouth to get a taste of her breast. Squeezing it into his hand and sucking it fervently. Nibbling her nipple, flickering his tongue. Sucking even more. 

"Bloody fucking gorgeous," he mumbled around her. 

"God, yes." She relaxed into the mattress, threading her hands into his hair and arching her body into his mouth. "Take more." 

He sucked deeper, unashamedly slurping as he drooled all over her skin and grinded against her hips. 

Maisy exploded with pure, raw, and wild need for him. She bent her knees and placed her feet on the bed, then spread her legs open. Stretching her arm between their bodies, she grabbed his length and pressed his tip between her folds, rubbing up and down her wetness. 

"Fuck." She moaned, rolling her hips up. 

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunted. "You're so fucking sexy."

He moved to her other breast, massaging the one he had just abandoned. Losing himself in her taste and squeezing her just as fiercely as he sucked her into his mouth. 

Fuck. Maisy really liked that. She really liked when men loved her breasts, but Harry being the one who sucked them into his mouth was mind-blowing. It made her feral. It drove her insane. 

"Hell yes." She moaned, and he moaned. 

She threaded her free hand around his curls and pressed him closer to her chest. Hoping to suffocate him with her breasts. "Keep going…" 

Harry hummed, drinking her in while writhing against her hand.

She scratched his scalp with one hand, and pressed him between her folds with the other. Rocking her hips back and forth while he got drunk on her. "Just like that…"

He searched for her hands, then, slotting their fingers together and sinking them onto the mattress while he devoured her entirely. Letting her breast go with a loud pop and moving immediately to her neck.

"I need you," he mumbled, spreading open-mouthed kisses to whatever he could reach. "Now. I need you now."

She hooked her legs around his waist, adjusting so he could roll and rub himself against her clit. "Mhmm… Please."

He bit her neck, and she dropped her head back, arching into him and squeezing his hands. 

"Condom," he mumbled. "I'll—Condom…" 

"Mhmm…" 

Maisy nodded, dropping her legs to the mattress, and Harry moved, stretching to open the drawer on the bed side table. She took the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his shoulder, tasting him slowly and fervently. He grunted, having trouble concentrating, but eventually grabbed a foil package and moved back to her mouth. 

He kissed her, then pulled away to tore the wrapper open with his teeth, and kissed her again. They moved together to put on the condom, always finding ways to keep meeting for tender and lazy kisses. Once he was ready, Maisy shuffled on his bedsheets and made herself comfortable, watching as he slotted between her legs and then crawled to place one elbow next to her head.

Holding himself with one arm and looking into her eyes, he took one hand down and grabbed himself. 

She hugged his neck, and he teased his tip around her clit, then tapped it twice against her entrance. 

Maisy hissed, and Harry grunted.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, guiding himself inside her body. "I really, really hope I last."

Maisy laughed, and he smiled. And then they kissed. 

She instantly hooked her legs around his waist, resting her heels above his bum and encouraging him to get closer. To go deeper. To fill her. 

Kissing. 

Panting. 

Moaning. 

Shivering. 

Maisy squeezed her eyes together, feeling the burn of the first stretch. And Harry kissed her again. Maybe trying to sooth her. Or maybe because he just couldn't stay away.

"You good?" he asked, caging her head between his forearms. 

"Yeah…" She licked her lips, and blinked. "So good."

"Can I fuck you like this?" he asked. "Wanna see you."

She nodded. "Whatever you want. Just fuck me already." 

Harry chuckled, then rolled his hips, sliding in and out slowly, just to test the waters. 

"Whatever I want?"

Maisy sighed, and nuzzled her hands into his curls. "Yes. Whatever you want."

In… 

And out… 

"In that case," he said. "Wanna fuck you like this tonight."

In… 

And out… 

"And want you to ride me tomorrow."

Maisy smiled. 

In… 

And out… 

"Wearing your shirt?" she asked. 

"Fuck yes." 

In… 

He brushed the side of his nose with hers, and smiled, too. "Nothing but my shirt." 

And out… 

In… 

She nodded. "Mkay…" 

And out…  

"Hmmm."

In…  

And out…

"We'll have…" he started, then kept going as he followed the affectionate and sensual pace of his hips. "The rest… Fuck… Of our lives… To try… Different… Positions… Anyway… Yeah?"

Maisy smiled again. "The rest of our lives, huh?" 

In…

Harry kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. "Too cliché?"

And out… 

She shook her head. "I like the sound of it." 

"Yeah… Me too."

In… 

And out… 

In… 

And out… 

"Fuck," he growled.  

Picking up the pace, he held his weight firmly onto his forearms, then moved his hips and focused on thrusting into her. In and out, in and out, in and out. Faster. And deeper. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

Maisy whimpered and squeezed her arms around his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as he built a frantic pace. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

"Took me all this… Shit… All this time to figure it out," he mumbled. "I'm not—Fuck—I'm not letting you go now."

She arched her back, and sank her nails into his back. "I'm not going anywhere." 

He smashed their mouths together. Rocking his hips into her. Pounding into her. Faster. Deeper. The bed knocked into the wall. And their skin smacked together. 

Hell yes.

So good. 

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

So fucking good.

Loud. 

Desperate. 

Needy. 

Hungry. 

Feral. 

"C'mon baby…" he mumbled around her lips, then took one hand down to her waist. "C'mon…"

More. More. More.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Deep. Deep. Deep. 

"Y—Yeah… Right—Shit. Right there… Oh my God… Keep going… Keep going…"

"You're so loud," Harry chuckled, squeezing her waist and keeping up the reckless pace. "Fucking… Love… It… Fuuuck."

Maisy gasped. She scrunched up her face, and gripped his ass with both hands. 

"More… I need… More…"

"Jesus Christ…" Still holding his weight with one arm, he let go of her waist and moved between her legs, then rubbed her swollen clit. "Like that?"

"Fuck yes. Yes. Oh God, Harry… Harry… Oh God… Yes."

"C'mon then… C'mon… Let me see you…" 

She moaned loudly, crying out as her walls spasmed and contracted around him and all the tension snapped at once, causing her body to tremble from head to toe. 

"Fuck—" Harry closed his eyes. "Isy— Shit…  I'm… Isy… Fuck." 

He shattered on top of her, pulsing inside her walls as he emptied himself inside the condom and went still with each— 

last— 

fucking— 

thrust. 

"Fuuuuuck."

He held himself and pulled out, then finally collapsed into her. 

.

.

.

Beats of silence went by. Deafening silence. A silence they hadn't ever shared before. Not in five years of friendship. Not with anyone else they'd ever been up until then. A silence that enveloped both of them naturally, that gave them time to recollect their thoughts and catch up their breaths. And a silence that, after another couple of beats, got them both rolling in bed and laughing out loud. 

"Oh my God…" 

Maisy hid behind her hands, feeling the mattress sink as he got up and got rid of the condom. Although she didn't want to, she followed his steps, going to the bathroom and cleaning herself up. 

Moments later, when she walked back into his bedroom, she found Harry laying in bed, wearing clean briefs and waiting for her. 

"C'mere," he said, patting the place next to him.

She curled her lips into a smile and practically ran to him, jumping into his bed and snuggling into his side. 

"Jesus Christ Isy…"  Harry pulled her naked body to himself, sneaking one arm under her neck and sliding the other one around her waist. "I'm so happy and also so fucking mad right now."

"What?" She placed one hand on his chest and hooked one leg around his waist. "Why are you mad?" 

"Because!" He laughed. "Can't believe you've been hiding this side from me all this time."

"Hmm… No I haven't."

"Yes, you have."

"No, because I don't even have a side to hide!"

"You totally do. All loud… Chatty… Bossy…"

"That's not true."

"It isss tho…" 

"Oh, shut up." 

"Exactly!" He laughed even louder, then forced his voice in a poor attempt of mimicking her. "Shut up Harry. Touch me Harry. Fuck me Harry. More Harry. I need more Harry. More Har—Ouch! Heyyyy!"

Maisy let go of his nipple, then slapped his chest. "Stop being stupid!"

"Will you stop fucking pinching me?" he asked, smacking his palm loudly against her ass. 

"Shit!" she yelped and laughed, jolting closer to his body. 

"You like it rough, don't you?" he added right after, then pinched right under her bum. 

"Harry!" Laughing louder, she squirmed inside his arms. "Stop!" 

"You like it rough, and you're filthy." 

"Oh my God." Maisy rolled her eyes, catching her breath between all the laughing. "So? What's wrong with that? Huh?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Well, then stop judging!" 

"I'm not—What? I'm not!" He shuffled, staring into her eyes and caressing her cheek. "Are you kidding me? I fucking love it!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Mhmm… Sure." 

Harry shook his head, and smiled. "Don't be silly… It's just… I don't know, but it felt different, y'know? Like… Fucking great sex… But not just like… The sex, sex, y'know? Everything about it… I don't know. I guess I just never had something like this before… Just… So fun and fucking hot at the same time… Y'know what I mean?"

Maisy bit her lip, and nodded. She cradled his cheek and moved closer, then pulled him in for a slow, sweet, and long, long kiss. 

"Yeah," she whispered, pecking his mouth one more time and sliding her hand to the back of his head. "I know exactly what you mean."

Harry grunted softly. 

"See?" He squeezed her bum. "And you been keeping this away from me! All this time!"

Maisy rolled her eyes—for what felt like the hundredth time. "Okay. Have you thought that maybe, maybe, if you had made a move on me instead of pulling up random girls at bars, you would've known sooner?"

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again. 

"You're right." He rested his forehead against hers and nodded. Then, he smiled. "Thank God my girl's got attitude, huh?" 

Maisy bit her lip and smiled, too.  

But then, she grinned. So big she even giggled.

"Your girl, huh?"

"Mhmmm…" He caressed her side. "If you want to be, of course."

"Am I going to be the only one?" 

He pulled away, then looked firmly into her eyes. "I want you to be, yes. I want to do this properly. Wanna be with you. Only you. No-one else."

She threaded her fingers around the curls in the back of his head, then stroked his scalp with soft circles. 

"I wanna be with you, too. Want you to be mine."

He smiled, and shrugged. "Already am. All yours."

"Good." She kissed him. "No more being just friends, then…" 

"Fuck no!" He laughed, and pulled her in for another kiss. Then, he murmured into her lips, "Fuck that shit. We were never just friends, anyway." 

[imhellaboss]

Yandere! Lucifer Morningstar Headcanons

[!If you consume this content, please be aware that Vivziepop is not a good person and does not pay her animators fair wages! (This isn't even close to the worse thing she's done)]

When you came to hell, he was obsessed

He doesn't usually care for sinners, but you're just... different

Now, when you first met him, you were shocked by how short he was

"You're Lucifer?"

"Yes," He sticks his chest out in pride, while you look him up and down. He raises an eyebrow at your lack of reaction, "What?"

"You're short."

He's taken aback, his jaw nearly on the floor. "Maybe you're just tall."

"No, you're short... Like really short. I always... well, expected more"

He's annoyed and you both argue about it for a while before he changes the topic

He's charismatic and you're drawn in by that

It's a trap to force you into a relationship with him

He can jealous pretty easily

He wants you to worship and love him, so if you talk about someone else, he gets petty and pouty

Though, if anyone upsets him, he'll make sure that person is never seen again

He's protective over you and believe it or not, he wants you to be happy, even if you are in hell

He recommends you to his daughter's hotel [Although, you had no idea that he had a daughter]

Pretty awkward to be honest... She tries and talk to you, but it's clear she's uncomfortable, because Charlie believes you have a relationship with her father

When she asks you about it [When you're both alone obviously and you tell her to just talk to you about whatever is clearly on her mind] you are quick to blush, shaking your head and hands

"NO! No, no, no, no!" You then awkwardly laugh while continuing to shake your head and hands, while Charlie starts to awkwardly laugh and look around

"Yeah... haha"

When you both finally come down, it's even more awkward than before

"It's weird my father seems to have taken a real liking to you, especially since you're a sinner."

You look at her a little surprised, "Me?" You point to yourself, "You think he likes me?"

You look back at where Lucifer is and he's acting stupid, "Hmm... I don't know about that"

There's a part of him that hopes sinners can't get redeemed because if they can, that, means you can and that means you could leave him

He's scared you'll leave him and he does whatever it takes to keep you with him

He'll seem like he's helping you get to heaven, but by associating with him, you'll never be redeemed

[crazyyluvr]

Dealing With the Problem = Breaking the Problem’s Nose

pairing: remus lupin x slytherin!reader

summary: You punched another student because he was annoying. Not because you were defending Remus Lupin. Totally not.

genre: crushing, fluff?, kind of enemies to lovers but not really (reader hates Remus but Remus likes reader), sunshine x grumpy trope?

wc: 2.1k

content: reader can throw a punch, gn!reader, there’s a fight, a lot of cursing, remus gets insulted, remus is a simp fr, reader is very... salty? idk how to describe them.

note: woah, two posts in one day? so rare. I wrote this without any particular idea in mind, but I want to show my appreciation for Remus, because we love Remus <3

oneshot under the cut :: not proofread

Remus Lupin was interesting.

He was not like his other friends; he was quiet, more reserved than them. The Marauders were the heartthrobs of Hogwarts, and Remus Lupin had his own group of “fans” that found his certain allure appealing.

You hated him.

The times when you would had the unfortunate requirement to talk to him, he was infuriating. He would send that damned smirk of his your way even when you were obviously about to blow a fuse. He would use those annoyingly smooth pickup lines on you when you were literally insulting him. He compliments you and uses pet names on you that makes other people do a double take on you from how he treated you like you two were dating.

He may have been the quieter one among his friends (besides Peter of course), but he could act as embarrassingly as Potter and Black do.

You were going to kill him someday. If he doesn’t kill you first with his smooth words and soft gaze.

As much as you hate him, your body betrays you. All the time.

Your cheeks flush when he compliments you. Your knees go weak when he calls you dove. Your brain lags when he uses one of his pickup lines that you never seem to predict.

The reactions were out of your control. I mean, if anyone else treated you the way Lupin treated you, you’d probably act the same.

Right?

Wrong, because you hate everyone besides your friends in Slytherin, no matter how kind they act towards you. Lupin just happened to take a page out of your house’s mascot and slither through your walls to become an exception.

Wrong, because you never would have punched someone purely out of instinct after a particularly horrible insult.

You were disappointed in yourself. You were doing well in restraining your anger during the past few years in Hogwarts, so why did you have to snap now out of all times?

No matter how annoyed you were at yourself, it couldn’t overpower the satisfaction you got from finally shutting Avery up.

So, how did it happen?

Let’s rewind.

—————

You were taking a stroll in the grass with Barty, who was always willing to accompany you on your spontaneous walks. The two of you were just talking about people you particularly hated in Hogwarts until you came across the two that placed particularly high on both your lists: Avery and Snape.

Being in the same house as the two vermin didn’t make you or Barty dislike them any less, especially you. You were one of the precious few halfbloods in Slytherin, and they never failed to insult you about it.

You didn’t care about blood statuses, though. But that didn’t matter do them.

They targeted you constantly, picking on you, tripping you in the hallway, spilling drinks on your back, and other petty things.

You always bit back with your words. You knew that if you tried to deal with it physically, you might be expelled from the school for violence.

Thank goodness Pandora, Barty, and Regulus ere always there to restrain you. Especially Barty. He was your closest friend, and although he wanted to beat them up himself, he didn’t want you getting in trouble.

Today seemed to be an exception.

“Oh, speaking of,” you cut Barty off, your gaze souring as you caught sight of the two you were just ranting about.

Barty followed your gaze, his lip curling in disgust. They were crowded over someone, but the tree beside them obscured your view of the victim. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing wickedly and pushing the person.

“Are we going?” Barty knew you well. He knew you were going to do something about it. He just hoped that you were going to use your words instead of your fists, because he hasn't finished his strategy on how to hide bodies in school just yet.

“Unfortunately,” you sighed, picking up your pace, Barty a few feet behind you to give you space. You may hate everyone in school, but not enough to leave them in the clutches of people like Snape and Avery.

“What kind of fucked up entertainment did you two idiots decide to do today?” You called, making the two turn your way.

“Ah, just the person we were talking about,” Avery sneered. “What do you want now? You here to check up on your boyfriend?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. You stepped to the side a little and groaned internally when you saw who Snape and Avery’s target was today: Remus Lupin.

His face was contorted in anger, his clenched fists peeking out from his slightly oversized sweater. Whatever Snape and Avery were teasing him about must have really struck a nerve in him.

“Leave them out of this,” he warned.

“What’re you going to do about it, huh?” Snape taunted him, approaching you. “C’mon loverboy. Not so strong now that your bodyguards aren’t here, ain’t that right?”

“Why don’t you boys take a break from being dickheads, yeah?” You said, testing out the chance of a diplomatic ending. “Go find some other place to dump your bullshit on, preferably the greenhouses. They could use the fertilizer.”

Avery made a beeline towards you, partially shoving Snape out of his way to grab your collar and pull you toward him. He was practically steaming.

Diplomacy was out the window, I suppose.

Barty a step towards you, as did Remus, but Snape stopped the lanky boy and you put your hand up to make Barty pause. You could handle yourself.

“You wanna say that again, bitch?” Avery seethed.

You had to restrain yourself from puking in his face after you felt drops of his saliva hit your cheeks, but you stood your ground. “I said you’re full of shit. Did some of it get in your ears or something?”

Avery looked like he wanted to hit you, but instead he leaned in your ear. You cringed at the lack of distance, but it quickly morphed into something else as he whispered, “You wouldn’t be barking as much if you let your ugly ass boytoy do the talking for you. He’s the one better with words, eh? Bet he uses them so you would want to fuck him. Tell me, is his dick as deformed as his face is?”

Avery never got his response as you reeled your fist back and let it fly, making direct contact with his nose with a satisfying crack.

—————

“I don’t believe it,” Madame Pomfrey tsked in disappointment, dabbing a paste on the bruise around your eye. You had to suppress a wince, since the rest of your body was too sore. “You should know better than to start a brawl in the courtyard.”

“They had it coming,” you muttered, making the nurse dab with a little more force than necessary. “Ouch.”

"You could have sustained worse injuries than this, stupid child!" She scolded, like a mother reprimanding a disobedient child. And like a disappointed child, you stayed silent and hung your head in slight guilt.

Only slight guilt because you still firmly believed that the two idiots had it coming to them.

You heard a moan of pain, and you could have sworn that you saw Madame Pomfrey roll her eyes. "You don't have that much severe injuries, so I'll check up on you in a while after I treat Mr. Snape and Mr. Avery."

You nodded. Before leaving, the nurse turned to Remus Lupin, who was icing a bruise on his cheek on the cot beside yours. "Watch over them, and after a few minutes, apply ice to their bruises," she instructed, and the Gryffindor nodded.

"Treasure, how're you doing?" Barty called from his cot across from you. He had sprained his ankle from kicking Snape hard in the nuts, and although he winced in pain occasionally when he moved, his grin told you that he didn't regret what he did.

"I'm okay B," you replied, grimacing slightly as one of the pulled muscles on your back acted up.

Remus noticed your flinch, and approached you worriedly. He was better off than you and Barty, the bruise on his face the only thing that he obtained from the fight. "Are you sure?" He asked, concerned. You didn't like how soft his eyes were as he gazed at you, or how your chest squeezed slightly at his worry.

"I'm fine, Lupin," you quipped, although your voice lacked its usual venom.

Remus hummed, unconvinced. He turned to the bedside and grabbed the ice that Madame Pomfrey left for you and held it out for you to grab.

You scoffed. "I said I'm fine. No need to baby me."

Remus rolled his eyes slightly. "And I don't believe you. Besides, the nurse said to ice your bruise after a few minutes. A few minutes has already passed, and frankly, she can do more damage to me than you can in this state."

You grumbled, turning your head. Your pride made you stubborn, as it did to many, but thank goodness Remus Lupin has had training in dealing with prideful companions.

He closed in on you, holding your face by the chin and tilting it towards him. You tried to fight back, but his grip was firm, so you simply sighed and resigned your fate. You could only hope that the observant boy didn't notice the warmth on your cheeks.

He gently placed the ice on your eye.

"Sorry," He murmured when you hissed at the sudden cold.

You purposefully averted your gaze from him, eyes fixated on the wheels of another cot.

That didn't stop you from spotting Remus's fixated stare on you from your periphery.

"Stop looking at me like that, Lupin," You spat, still refusing to make direct eye contact with him. "What do you want?"

"Why did you punch Avery?" He asked, finally making your eyes snap up to him. "He said something that provoked you. What did he say?"

You scoffed. "The usual bullshit that comes out of his mouth."

"I heard that."

"Fuck off," you called to the curtained cot where Avery currently resided. Madame Pomfrey hushed you disapprovingly form behind the curtains.

"I don't think that's true," Remus said, eyes narrowed as he studied you like a problem he couldn't solve, an enigma he wanted to understand.

You looked at him in silence for a moment, before heaving a sigh and looking away again. "He insulted you," you mumbled, words faint and hard to decipher, but Remus got the general meaning.

Well, judging from his grin, he got the general meaning.

"What did you say?" He asked. You looked at him, offended. Remus Lupin was teasing you.

"Clean your ears next time, Lupin," you shot a glare at him, but it didn't have as much heat behind it as you would have wanted.

"Nope, don't try to escape from this," he chuckled, using his hand on your chin to make your visible eye make contact with his brown ones again. "What did you say, dove?"

You groaned. You absolutely loved hated the effect this boy had on you.

"He insulted you, Lupin," You snapped, cheeks blazing at this point. "Happy?"

Remus's playful expression melted into one of disbelief. "You punched him because... he insulted me?"

"Salazar, you really are deaf," you rolled your eyes. "That's what I said, isn't it?"

Remus seemed to still not be able to wrap his head around the idea. You, the person he's been pining over the past few months, defended him. And got hurt because of it.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice sincere.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you apologizing for? I started that fight with my own free will, and they deserved every cut and bruise they received."

"Amen," Barty replied. He was obviously eavesdropping on your conversation, and you couldn't say that you were surprised.

"But still." His lips tilted downwards along with his gaze. Salazar give me strength, he's pouting. "You were dragged into it when they were picking on me. I could have —"

"Yes, there are many things that you could have done, but you can't reverse time to do them now, Lupin," You said severely. "I don't need you apologizing for things I don't regret doing."

Remus looked up at you hopefully. "You don't regret defending me?"

You blinked, realizing the implications your words gave off. You played it off with a huff. "Whatever."

"You didn't deny it," Remus teased, a small smile on his face. He still felt guilty that you were hurt because you were defending him, but you didn't regret it. That had to count for something.

"Whatever, Lupin."

"Call me Remus."

"No."

"Please."

"Absolutely not."

"Dove?"

"... Fine, Remus."

"Heh, I knew you liked me."

"What — I never said I did!"

"But you never said you didn't."

"I —"

A retching noise was heard. "Ugh, your lovey-doveyness is making me sick."

"Shut up, Barty!"

[heavensoutofsight]

gf billie eilish thoughts 💭 (fluffy ver)

summary: this is just what i daydream about on the daily 😭 i am very down bad...

author's note: first post here. i am very nervous lol. hope you guys enjoy <3

word count: 521 (bullet points)

• loves to buy you things, obviously. clothes, jewelry, and anything else you might want. doesn't matter how expensive you are, if you want it, it's yours

• loves to drive you everywhere too. drives with one hand on the wheel while the other rests on your thigh (RAHHHDGDGD)

• loves backhugging you and kissing your face/neck. doing the dishes? surprise backhug. folding laundry? surprise backhug

• physical touch in general is huge in the relationship. she really can't keep her hands off of you sometimes and you don't mind one bit

• always writing and performing songs specifically for you. they're special songs, not to be heard by anyone else except you.

• expect a lot of laughter in the relationship. I'm talking holding onto each other for dear life, rolling around the floor, tears falling out of eyes laughter. she'd always be making you laugh and vice versa

• cute Instagram posts of the both of you. she takes lots of adorable mirror selfies where you two have on coordinating outfits. she also loves taking more candid photos of you.

• when you go with her to promotional shoots, she'll always sneak in a kiss during breaks.

• when she's away on tour or doing more promo stuff (and you can't make it) she will call you every day that she's gone and always asks how you're doing ("hey pretty girl, just checking on you")

• when she's in the studio alone, she loves when you sit with her, even if the two of you don't speak; just existing in the same space is enough

• lets you wear her huge shirts. she can't get enough of you in them

• lets you play with her rings whenever you want, especially when you're anxious about something

• LOVES having you in her lap whenever

• loves cooking cute little vegan recipes with you. although there might be a lot more kissing and tomfoolery than cooking...

• she cares so much about you that she doesn't even think about herself sometimes

• she loves getting your opinion on her outfits for the day

• also loves hearing your opinion on music she's working on. she deeply appreciations any and all feedback you give her. you might even help with small background vocals sometimes.

• protective over you. not in a unhealthy, toxic way; she's just always looking out for you <3

• gets a little jealous sometimes too. again, not in an unhealthy way. for instance, maybe you're at an after party after an award show and someone's a bit too flirtatious with you; billie will walk over and just silently wrap her arm around your waist. it honestly makes you melt every time.

• she's your BIGGEST fan and your BIGGEST motivator.

• of course you're with her for certain red carpet events and the both of you always steal the show. billie will always kiss your cheek in front of all the photographers just to make you giggle.

• she never forgets to mention you in her speeches when she wins an award and she will always look directly at you and blow you the biggest kiss

• she just. loves you so much. she loves so deeply and intensely.

[lisired]

forever yours

pairing: haechan x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut (lots of it), horror, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, major character death, mentions of suicide, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), exhibitionism

summary: Thirst for exhilaration and a stupid dare brings you, your boyfriend Haechan, and your friends to the eerie camping grounds of Chimera - the name of a town rumored to be occupied by a number of vengeful, lurking spirits. But nothing is as it seems in this ghost town.

word count: 23k (see what had happened was…)

a/n: Halloween is gone but I just could not pass the opportunity to finally write a Haechan horror fic. as always, feedback is appreciated!

There was blood in your mouth. 

A tart, pungent taste followed. Your tongue ached, crying with agony. 

You pivoted around and groaned, “What the hell?” 

As it turned out, the culprit was no other than Winter. And you were less than pleased to be met with the sight of your own best friend giggling in your face. 

“You should have seen your face,” Winter teased, laughing to the point of tears. 

You only rolled your eyes. Curse her and her stupid shenanigans. October was official and Halloween was fresh in the air and given so, she would be a constant of mischief.

Fortunately for Winter, she was your best friend. If not, you would not have hesitated to give her a very large piece of your mind. 

You whined, “You made me bite my tongue.”

Your boyfriend, Haechan, snapped out of his fury-induced trance long enough to pull you close and ask wrathfully, “You’re hurt?” 

“Just a little,” you admitted with a grimace. Now, it hurt to speak. You swayed on the heels of your feet to press a placating kiss to the corner of his lips and say, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m okay.”

Apologetic, Winter frowned and told you, “I’m sorry, bestie. I’m sure Haechan will kiss it better. Seeing as you were a total of two seconds from swallowing each other’s tongues and all.”

Like she was a fly, you swatted her away and sent her off snickering incessantly. Your boyfriend was most likely turned off by now, all things considered. You were about to kiss before Winter screeched, “Bug!” and effectively gave you the scare of your life. 

You were in the middle of nowhere, after all. Chimera was a ghost town with a very tiny population and even fewer tourist attractions because anyone who valued their life would not dare explore the haunted hell town. 

Not to mention you were in the woods. You were on creepy-crawly territory. A stupid, childish dare brought you to the wicked. Last weekend, Jaehyun instigated a game of truth or dare for old times sake, and dared you all to stay a weekend at the haunted camping site. So the story goes. Neither of you were adamant believers in ghoul tales. 

At one point in his tetchiness, Haechan’s expression began to teeter between devilish and sinister, and a very gray area existed there. His dark eyes glared into the distance, although your best friend had already sauntered off in hounding of her next victim. 

Very rarely did your boyfriend wind up on the suffering end of vexation, but having his time with you interrupted would never not do the trick. 

Every time without fail. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t blame him, but it made your heart swell with sadness. Alas, jam-packed work schedules and even less time for yourselves, your time together nowadays was limited. You came home to each other every night, but grueling days of work meant you were often sound asleep by the time he arrived. 

Sometimes, you would bring work home with you and stay up late, but Haechan would be snoring by the time you finally finished up and crawled under the sheets of your shared bed. 

This put a bit of strain on not only your relationship, but your friendships. Which was part of the reason you agreed to the stupid dare in the first place.

Obviously, it still wasn’t just the two of you, but you’d make it work. You had to. Alongside your best friend, her boyfriend, Jaehyun, was here. Like hell he would send the love of his life into haunted woods without him there to protect her. As well as Ten and Yuta. 

Your boyfriend was still displeased. A part of you was comforted by his protectiveness over you. Still, you wanted to soothe him before all hell broke loose. Bracing a hand on your boyfriend’s chest, you consoled, “Baby, I’m fine. I swear.”

Your lover was aflame, though the sweet sound of your voice made him soften. Only a little. He made sure you were flush against his body. “Promise?”

“I promise,” you replied, grinning from ear to ear. And sending his heart gravitating towards the moon. Then, you purred, “How about we go let off some of that steam in the cabin?”

Haechan smirked and you knew that you had your boyfriend back. “I like the way that sexy brain of yours thinks.”

Giggling, the two of you raced to the cabin. 

Your new home for the weekend was a tiny wooden cabin that was surprisingly very warm and comfy. There were three in total, each surrounding a campfire area. A lake was not too far off and cleared for safe swimming. And there were a couple of trails nearby. 

For an avowedly haunted campground, it was beautiful as far as you’d seen. There were vibrant wildflowers scattered everywhere and the water was crystal-fucking-clear. The sound of nature - leaves rustling in the wind and squirrels clambering up tree branches - was pleasantly therapeutic. 

Now, you were thinking about morning sex with Haechan, moans masking the sounds of birds chirping. 

The sight of you rushing to your cabin, nearly tripping over twigs in the process, was nothing short of comical. Though you found slight humor in your desperation, there was a rationale behind your every move. Above all, you couldn’t remember the last time you and your boyfriend had sex, and you were in need of a refresher. 

The kind of refresher only good dick and loving could give you.

Haechan very nearly kicked in the door. You let out a cry of surprise when he jerked it back in place with his toe and flung you against the surface, kissing you none too gently. 

You lingered there for a long while, making out in a hot, messy battle to conquer. Your chest heaved breathlessly, moans dangling from your lips in departure as you sucked each other’s tongues with pleasure. For a second, you pulled back, bringing your lips to that sweet spot on your boyfriend’s empty neck. For now. 

When he made a sharp noise and swiftly lowered you to the bed, you knew you were in for one hell of a fucking. 

It went without saying that this was going to be a far cry from a typical round of love-making. Your boyfriend was going to fuck you until every inch of the forest knew his name.

At the sight of you fumbling with his pants, Haechan chuckled and gathered your hands in his, teasing, “Slow down, baby girl.”

“Fuck me,” you heaved, as if the air had suddenly gotten thicker. Your eyes begged for him to give what you desperately craved on behalf of your body. “Hyuck, please.”

Your boyfriend gave a shake of his head, donning the most taunting smile. “Not yet,” he said, chuckling. It was nothing short of delightful to hear you beg for him, but he needed to savor you. It had been too long. “Not before I get a taste.”

Not a second later, your core throbbed, obviously excited about something now. Haechan was quick on his feet and between your thighs in the time that it took you to blink. Your panties disappeared with a yank, quickly tossed into oblivion. Your body shivered in anticipation, knowing what was to come. Haechan ate you out better than anyone to date. 

You got comfortable, laying sprawled and vulnerable. Your boyfriend was in a temporary trance, eyeing your glistening cunt with sheer admiration. You could feel the heat of his breath there, making you tingle with want all over. 

Haechan could feel himself twitching in his pants. Fuck, you were already so damn wet. Though that was nothing new. There was something about making out with your boyfriend that could arouse you like nothing else. 

Before he caved, Haechan made sure to tease, “Be careful not to scream. Your tongue will hate me.”

That made you roll your eyes, identifying your boyfriend as his usual cocky self. Though for good reason. No man had ever made you scream much like him. “Try not to make me scream. Everyone will hate us,” you quipped. 

“No can do, baby. I’m a natural.”

With a shake of your head, you shook with laughter. Granted, there was a good amount of feet between each cabin, but when at your boyfriend’s mercy, you were loud enough to wake the worlds below and above. 

Ever the tease, Haechan lifted his lips and kissed his way from your belly down to the vertex of your plush thighs. You made a noise, noticing he’d skipped between. He nibbled at the edges, rendering you impatient and weaker. You could only writhe and whimper, aware that you were being tested. Or toyed with, for that matter. 

Then, your lover went to town, having his fill of riling you up. You shuddered, eyes closing the very second his tongue muscled in your slick folds. Every muscle in your body was taut with tension. A kind of tension only concocted over time by a lack thereof to be broken loose.

There was a catch in your breath when Haechan lapped at you without holding back. He was a creature of desire, fingernails clamped harshly into your unfurled thighs. You were already moaning, already crying his name. There was no limit on him, none on pleasure when with him. You could already sense the tension dwindling in place of a different kind; the ecstatic variety. 

Though you had been inclined to watch the view, your head angled back in a soft sigh, flush against the pillows. It was a talent how effortlessly Haechan could dismantle you. More or less. The language of your body was indefinitely etched into his memory. 

“God. Oh my fucking…,” you gasped, sentence interrupted by an ensuing moan. This was only the beginning and yet already you were undone. 

Haechan tasted your arousal on the very tip of his tongue and let out an unrestrained, beast-like growl of pleasure. In your mind, it almost seemed fitting. He lapped at you like a ravenous creature. But in his mind, you were the one to blame. You always had to taste so damn sweet. 

You fisted locks of his hair in your fingers, back arching when he targeted your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body was aflame, and you could feel the blood pumping through your veins hotly. “Don’t stop. Baby, please don’t stop,” you choked, promptly reduced to whimpers of pleasure. And cries of your lover’s name. 

A vortex of pleasure consumed you, tossing you unceremoniously around the eye. Your thighs and toes tingled, a sign that your entire body was very much awake and alert. It came to life at Haechan’s touch, turned on at the way his tongue pivoted on your clit and penetrated your tight hole. There were sparks broiling under your skin, ignited everywhere. 

Haechan slid two fingers inside your pulsing cunt and your eyes promptly rolled to the back of your skull. 

For whatever reason, he was grinning from ear to ear. This was far from his first rodeo, and after years of this relationship, he had the once-mystery of your mind and body completely unraveled. No matter how much you tried to writhe away, overstimulated by the pleasure, there was no such thing as escape.  

He liked watching you squirm as if you had anywhere to flee, bracing his palms on your naked thighs. He liked watching you involuntarily arch your back and rock your hips into his mouth with greed, your systems entering shutdown. Even more, he liked that he made so much of a mess of you that you could hardly seem to tell what you wanted anymore, but the arousal dripping from your cunt was a telltale sign of desire. 

Just like magic, weeks of stress were long-forgotten. Haechan singlehandedly set you at ease and riled you up all the while. Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes and you clamped tightly around his fingers. 

You never knew pleasure of this capacity existed before your boyfriend. He brought you to a different sphere and back, took you higher than you’d ever been. Darn the world. Your boyfriend showed you the universe and made you see every star visible to your eyes. No one had ever made you feel like this. 

Which was not unbeknown to Haechan. When you began to explore your sexuality together, you detailed your past sexcapades very thoroughly to him. None as sensational as those with your boyfriend. As it turned out, they all lacked one thing in common; a partner with as much devotion to your satisfaction as your own. 

They treated pleasuring you like it was menial drudgery. Not Haechan. Even now, he was ignoring the way his cock twitched between his thighs, aching to be freed. Your pleasure was paramount and he would not rest until he made you come. 

He wanted to be the only one you needed and proved to you every single day that you were destined to be together. And you were content with that. You wondered how on earth you’d finally been lucky enough to find a guy that loved you as much as he loved himself. There was no one else for you, you knew that in your bones. Everything felt meant to be with him. 

Unshakable and intangible. You wouldn’t have it any other way. This was a boy you would die and give your soul for. 

And also wanted to suck the soul out of. 

“Haechan, please. Fuck. Please,” you whimpered meekly, without a shred of idea of what you were even begging for. 

Though Haechan knew. You were simply so predictable to him by now. He learned to recognize when you were near, all of the glaringly obvious signs, given that you were not subtle in the slightest. With you grinding into his mouth, it was no secret you were on the verge of a sweet release. 

Haechan let his fingers pull the weight and clamped his teeth into the core of your thighs, then growled, “Come on, my pretty girl. Let go for me.”

Your dear boyfriend became ruthless at light speed, devouring you whole with his tongue like he wanted to leave not even a crumb of you to remain. His fingers were double kill, strumming you to ecstasy. 

Your body submitted to his commands, because of course it did. Haechan dominated you. Even if you wanted to disobey him, it was your body’s natural choice to comply. Every inch of you was owned by your lover and he had no intention of giving it back. Not that you wanted it. You took delight in handing him the reins. 

You were unstill, shaken with orgasm. There was a sharp tingle, swelling up your spine and closing in all over. It was too much. Your pussy throbbed, kneading his fingers hotly and you gave one final cry of his name before your body caved in to destruction, instantly going limp.  

Though you were overwhelmed, you should have known Haechan was far from finished. Never one to stop at a single orgasm, your boyfriend ate you out until you physically could not take it anymore, making you shudder with unalloyed pleasure over and over and over again. 

And given how long it had been since your boyfriend’s head had been between your thighs, you weren’t necessarily complaining.

Your chest was heaving and you were clinging to whatever remained of your breath for dear life when he eased up. Your most intense orgasms were always due to a combination of your boyfriend’s relentlessness and your extreme pent-up stress or sexual frustration. 

“You screamed a lot,” Haechan said, sucking your arousal off his fingers and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You fought a tiny smirk. You always loved the way he looked with your arousal coating his plush, pink lips. Instead, you rolled your eyes and retorted through ragged breath, “Fuck you.”

Haechan casted a smug grin and didn’t hesitate to scoff, “I’m sure you want to.”

Damn it. Now you were absorbed in the thought of him fucking you within an inch of your life. “Please… I can’t wait anymore,” you begged, core still aching no matter how many times he pleasured you. He made you insatiable. 

“I could never tell my pretty girl ‘no,’” Haechan crooned, inching in on you to scoop you in his sun-kissed arms. You giggled when he surprised you with a kiss. “I’ll take care of you.”

As always. 

True to his word, your wonderful boyfriend began to shred himself of his clothes. With your voluntary assistance, of course. You gaped open-mouthed at the sight of his thick cock standing at attention against his stomach, lost for words and short of breath.

Never passing up the opportunity to tease you, Haechan chaffed, “Baby, close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”

Heat wafted over you. Your voice was small, “Haechan…,”

“Shh. I know, baby. I know,” he whispered. 

Your lover kneeled between your thighs and you spread them for him instantly. Haechan smirked at how pliant you were. He never needed to ask, because it was simply second nature for your body to bend to his every will. 

He tapped his cock against your folds, asking, “How rough do you want it?”

“Break me,” you rasped without a second thought. 

Haechan grinned, full of mischief. 

He pushed in nice and slow, never wanting to hurt you. He lowered his head and met his lips to yours, kissing you as if it would distract you from the feeling of being slowly but surely stretched open. “Open up for me,” he hissed, pulse pumping at how tightly you gripped his cock, on the border of something vice-like. 

“You’re so… so big,” you choked out, anchoring yourself in the sheets with your nails. 

“Mm. Yeah?” Haechan asked, the slyest of smiles on his lips. “But you can take it. Isn’t that right, baby?”

You bobbed your head and your mouth parted, passing a soft moan. 

Haechan thought you wrapped around his bare cock too good, too withering and tight. He was sure pleasure of this magnitude only lived between you and him, irreplicable. Even so quickly you were making short work of him, leaving him with shackled self-restraint and half a mind to destroy what was left of you. 

You forwent the condoms roughly half a year into the relationship. Which was two and a half years ago. Though you took birth control pills and had no intention of becoming pregnant any time soon, if you were to have anyone’s baby, you knew it would only be your boyfriend’s. Thoughts of carrying his baby and raising a child together in your home plagued your mind, and you smiled from ear to ear. 

Your boyfriend glanced at you through his lashes and an invisible string tugged his heart at the sight of you. “What’re you smiling about?”

“You,” you said with hesitation. “I love you. And I want to love you forever.”

“Funny thing to say to the guy that’s about to wreck you.”

You rolled your eyes. It would kill him to be serious even for a second. You added, “He’s also the love of my life.”

Haechan softened. Only a little. “I love you, too,” he whispered, touch betraying his affectionate words as his fingers found purchase at the flesh of your hips. 

A grimace painted your face as Haechan sank his nails deeper and deeper. 

From that point on, Haechan fucked you as if he loathed all there was about you, save for your body. He kept a brutal pace, seemingly fucking you fuller and fuller of his cock with every passing push. Over your soft moans, you could hear his hips meeting yours with a loud, resounding thwack, and your cunt gushing hotly. 

Upon his death-grip, your lover’s name dangled from your tongue in dangerously sharp cries, sweet as honey and thick as tar. Your fingers scouted his biceps, desperate for some kind of anchorage. Haechan let out a dangerously low growl and you immediately tightened. For as long as you’d known him, your boyfriend had always been somewhere in the gray area between sadism and masochism. 

When asked about it, he told you, “There’s no such thing as pleasure without pain, baby. A very thin line separates the two.”

As twisted as it sounded, you agreed. 

The bed and your bodies performed in league to fill the void in the cabin, the former creaking with every reverberating slap of the latter meeting together. 

You were unapologetically vocal, but Haechan too sang his praises when balls deep inside you. At first, you were pleasantly surprised by his unabashed responses. Most of the guys you’d been with prior would stifle anything above a throaty groan. But when your body talked to him, he spoke back even louder. 

Your boyfriend never hid his affection for you. You were the reason he breathed everyday and he would let his body tell you as much. 

Haechan clamped his tanned arm around your throat and you whimpered. The chokehold was tight just enough to not harm you, but still have you begging for breath. He gave you nowhere else to look but his dark eyes, gleaming darkly with lust and lust only. 

He was all you could see. More specifically his eyes. Yours were locked there, unable to glance away. The only time they were out of sight was whenever your vision was peeling off at the edges by inevitable darkness. 

Haechan cocked his head a little, observing his creation. You were coming apart at the seams, eyes widened and lips parted, trying to take in oxygen. “Hard enough for you, baby?”

“Harder,” you managed to croak.  

Your boyfriend shook his head and laughed. Though nothing surprised him anymore. You took whatever he gave you with an insatiable kind of greed, as if there was no such thing as enough where he was involved. 

Even when sated, you only kept coming back for more. 

His pace was hard and unabating. A sharp cry split your lips when he bit your neck, nibbling at the flesh as he roughly fucked you into the mattress. You were unstill, a depthless well of ecstasy. Pleasure knew no boundaries. It was too greedy. It took, consumed, and it dominated. 

Haechan was right. There was a thin line between pain and pleasure and you were somewhere in the middle, teetering in between. 

The entire room was scorching. You soaked in the sight of sweat beading at your boyfriend’s forehead and gushed hotly around his cock, limbs locked together like a cluster of vines, hot skin on even hotter skin. Haechan’s grip on your throat slackened to hear you moan clearer when his tongue laced into you instead. 

You sweltered. And were positive that you would die. What a marvelous way to die, you thought humorously. With the love of your life by your side. You would have it no other way. 

Your back arched and you rocked your hips into his, desperate for more heat and friction. Only he could give it to you. 

That was how Haechan could tell you were close and he brought his fingers to your wet sex, strumming your swollen bundle of nerves. He was almost there and he wanted you to finish together. You cried out his name, clasping his biceps. 

“Cum. You know you want to,” Haechan hummed tauntingly. 

Your legs wrapped around his hips to draw him deeper inside. There was something about being at the brink of climax that rendered your entire body weak. Every piece of you was tempted into doing whatever he desired; whatever his heart desired. You wanted to please him. More than anything, you wanted to make him proud.

Haechan clamped his hands around your throat anew and that was all it took to finish you. Your mouth opened, crying his name as you finally crossed the threshold of orgasm. The tingles returned, prickling with the warm, pumping blood through your limbs. 

You gripped his cock and he came in turn, filling you to the brim with warmth with a sweet, high-pitched moan of your name. 

Haechan glanced over at you. He never got enough of the look on your pretty face when you shuddered, still throbbing and milking his cock dry until he eventually stilled inside you. You heaved for breath and his eyes soaked in your whole body, barely fighting a smile as he noticed all of the bruises and marks leftover. 

He never wanted to hurt you, but subconsciously, there was a part of him that found twisted pleasure. It meant you were his. He owned you, but you owned him. Every inch. 

For a while, you both only laid there, smiling and laughing at each other. Then, Haechan swooped you into his arms and muttered into the crook of your neck, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

You beamed. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” Haechan replied, pressing the lightest of kisses to your lips. 

“No, I love you more.”

Haechan whined, “Jesus, woman. I love you more, and that’s final.”

The two of you continued to bicker as if you were teenagers in love for the very first time. It reminded you of the early stages of your relationship, stealing and prolonging time before the other had to leave by initiating an “I love you” battle. 

As the years passed, you learned to savor every moment you had together. Time became scarcer by the day. It was not to be had when you were two adults with heavy workloads. 

Your boss made it his mission to call you into work even on weekends. Before he died, at least. That was a couple of weeks ago and needless to say, you were not very disappointed. 

“Rest in hell,” you remembered your co-worker saying. To which you quipped, “No rest for the wicked.”

Haechan crawled back into bed with you after you were both all clean and the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. You could hardly remember the last time you had. It was always him after you or vice versa. Never together. 

This haunted campground trip would ironically prove to be a nice oasis in a busy stage of your lives, it seemed. 

A shrill scream penetrated the night and you were jolted awake. 

Haechan wiped at his tired eyes and his voice was thick with sleepiness, “Is that Winter screaming in terror, because of Jay, or was that Ten?” 

You nudged your boyfriend. “No, that’s definitely terror. The last time I heard that sound was when Winter walked in on Yuta taking a piss.”

“They all scream like girls.”

“You scream like a girl.”

Haechan whined, “Whose side are you on?” 

Laughing, you shoved the duvet off your bodies and said, “Come on. Let’s go make sure these woods aren’t actually haunted.”

“Or worse - Yuta didn’t forget to zip the bathroom door,” he quipped. 

You snickered. 

Your boyfriend caged you behind his body, insisting that he wanted you to flee in the presence of any actual danger, and he led you outside the cabin. A shroud of fog hung near the ground. The sky was darker than the last you’d seen, perpetually mistier.

Haechan sauntered over to Yuta with you in convey and asked, “What’s with all the raucous?” 

“Winter’s idea of a spooky Halloween,” Yuta said dryly, hands at his hips. 

Your eyes rose and you saw Winter pointing fingers and snickering at a dismayed Ten, hairs standing on end. You figured he must have been the latest victim of her scares. 

Ten’s chest heaved as he yelled, “You are not funny!” 

Winter stuck her tongue out, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Damn right. I’m hi-fucking-larious.”

Jaehyun walked by, chuckling, and announced with a bag of marshmallows in clutch, “Time for s’mores.” 

At the mention of s’mores, the six of you huddled together around the campfire like children at the distribution of sweet candy. Danger dissuaded none of you. Each of you were intent on treating this as a typical camping trip. Per your boyfriend’s idea, your phones were in a cardboard box in Ten and Yuta’s cabin for safekeeping, there were plenty of outdoor activities to keep you entertained, and you were going to spend the weekend bonding together. 

Chimera, as wicked as it may have been, was eerily beautiful. And its nature was on another level. 

“Calories,” Winter squealed rather fondly, clapping excitedly.

You soured the mood and said, “And cavities.”

Winter shot you a glare and had she not been on the other side of fire, she would have leapt over and nudged you in the elbow. 

Instead, your best friend replied coolly, “Don’t worry. I packed Jay and I’s toothbrushes. I sent a reminder in the group chat, so I hope you guys didn’t forget.” 

“I came extensively prepared,” Ten said, snatching a graham cracker from Jaehyun and shoving it in his mouth. Much to Winter’s amusement and Jaehyun’s chagrin. “I brought toothbrushes, books, water, ear plugs, flashlights…” 

Haechan interrupted, “Ear plugs?”

Ten scoffed, “Oh, yes. You and your girlfriend and Jaehyun and Winter are notorious for going all night. I’d rather die than hear those two getting dicked down.”

“You’re just jealous,” you snapped lightheartedly. 

Ten reached for a marshmallow and defended himself a little too swiftly, “Oh, honey. I get dicked down on the regular, but you guys have fun.”

Yuta leaned into your ear from the right and whispered, “And strapped down by you in his dreams.”

“I heard that,” Ten hissed. 

Yuta played innocent and said, “Heard what?” 

Your boyfriend heard it, too, but he only pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips, rubbing it in Ten’s face. 

For his comfort, the topic changed.

The treats began to cook at long last. Haechan made you a s’more, seeing as you were a camping amateur, and you merely watched with fondness twinkling in your eyes. You were so out of your mind in love with your boyfriend that even the simplest of gestures made your heart swell with warmth. 

For the second s’more, Haechan guided you. You stuffed a marshmallow on the tip of a roasting stick and he held your hands in his as you held it over the fire. “Not too close. You don’t want it to catch on fire,” were his words, a certain concentration in his eyes tempting your heart to leap into the wavering flames. 

Ensuing was a treat of chocolatey goodness. 

Your friends were laughing and telling jokes over the campfire and somehow you became so engrossed in the conversation that you didn’t notice your third marshmallow was burning until it was too late. “I burned my marshmallow,” you announced with a frown. 

Yuta had finished up with his, but out of the kindness of his heart, offered to switch. “Have mine,” he insisted. 

“You’re too kind. Thank you,” you replied, appreciative. 

Then, you glanced over to your boyfriend, though he was still chattering with the rest of your friends. For a second, you thought it went unnoticed, but he laced his fingers through yours without a word and that was the end. 

You smiled. He was nothing like any of your past lovers. They were over-possessive and controlling, demanding your constant and undivided attention. Haechan, at worst, was a little clingy. 

He never got jealous over tiny, harmless gestures. The bar was so goddamn low, but finally having a normal guy made you prone to constant comparisons. He was totally chill when you were in the company of male friends and the only time he ever got upset was when you were hurt. 

Which was completely understandable. Instead of seeing you as an object to own, it represented his genuine respect and care for you. 

He’s the one, you thought with a stupid smile on your face. Even your parents agreed and were already calling him their son-in-law. Most people you dated prior didn’t even make it past the front lawn of their house. 

“Did you guys know that Chimera is actually named after a Greek mythical creature?” Ten asked, ever the bookworm. 

Jaehyun insincerely sneered, “Nerd.”

Ten ignored him with a roll of his eyes and continued, “In Greek mythology, the Chimera were fire-breathing creatures that appeared as a lion with a goat head on its back, and a snake for a tail.”

Haechan asked curiously, “Isn’t it also genetic mutations?”

“In biology, yes,” Ten said matter-of-factly. “It refers to organisms with several different genetic complications or DNA molecules with sequences from different organisms done by laboratories.”

“Wow. What a way to take us back to high school,” Yuta teased. 

You shook your head, intrigued. “No, no. I’m interested. Ten, continue.”

Ten flushed a little and his voice was quieter when he added, “Chimera also means a creature of the imagination. It’s something you dream of, but it’s a tantalizing, unattainable desire.”

Winter chimed in, “I’ve heard stories about Chimera. These woods particularly.”

“Me, too,” Jaehyun said. “The gruesome deaths, the questionable suicides. No wonder nobody wants to come out here, as beautiful as it is.”

You retorted, “Then, what does that make the six of us?”

They laughed. 

“I heard a girl killed herself in these very woods,” Yuta said, voice low over the crackling sound of fire. “But rumor has it she was actually slaughtered.”

“In the early nineteen-eighties. I remember,” Ten replied, slightly unnerved. 

Haechan snickered. “You weren’t even born yet.”

“I read a lot.”

That was obvious. 

Winter whispered eerily, “They say that sometimes you can still hear her footsteps dragging across the dirt, lurking in the night’s darkness.” 

Perfectly on cue, there was an eerie sound from the woods and you couldn’t convince yourself that you were the only one to hear it because each of your heads whipped around all at once. Haechan instinctively coiled an arm around you, prepared to protect you even against the soul of a girl that killed herself forty years ago if he could. 

Or maybe she really didn’t commit suicide. Maybe her killer painted her death as a suicide and now she was seeking revenge on humankind for not seizing the murderer. 

You immediately scolded yourself for being so silly. There was no such thing as ghosts or monsters. You believed in one evil and it was the human race. It’s probably just a squirrel or something, you reassured yourself. A squirrel with painfully inconvenient timing. 

Glancing between your boyfriend, Jaehyun, Ten, and Yuta, you said, “And what the hell are the four of you sitting around for? You’re the men! Go investigate.”

Ten was purely dismayed by the mere thought. “And because I’m a man I should be sacrificed to the devil? Absolutely not. This is how people die in horror movies. They go around poking their nose into places they have no business when they should be running for their lives.”

“Let’s go together,” Haechan said, throwing you all assertive glances. 

There was some reluctance, but you all begrudgingly agreed. As they say, no man left behind. Haechan still kept you flush to his chest, as did Jaehyun with Winter. He had his burly arms coiled above her hips. 

“There’s no girl in the woods,” Yuta murmured under his breath. But you heard him through the thick, strained silence. 

Jaehyun quipped, “Who knows. Maybe there’s one for you and you’ll stop showing my girlfriend your penis.”

Yuta retorted, “She’s the one that walks in on me. Maybe your girlfriend wants to see my penis.”

“Please be quiet,” Winter whined. 

Jaehyun, on a mission to be the world’s greatest boyfriend (and a few places behind, in your biased opinion), silenced himself on command and tightened his clasp below her ribs. He wasn’t all too convinced that there was a ghost in the woods, but he wanted to ease her. It was far more likely that you were all overthinking the sound of some animal minding its business. 

Your boyfriend had the exact same idea and held you even tighter. Whenever in the face of danger, his first instinct was - and would always be - to protect you. Only over his dead body would he allow harm to come your way. 

But even in his soothing embrace there was still a sinister energy that plagued you, alerting you that there was something amiss here. Fog blurred your vision and darkness wore at it, making it difficult to see clearly. 

Ten was prepared as always and turned on one of those flashlights he had mentioned earlier. He handed it to your boyfriend, the one currently leading your pack of six. 

Ever courageous, he led each of you through the night’s wilderness, your pulse thumping in your body the entire time. For whatever reason, the fear in you was unshakable. You had no clue where it emerged from, but it completely unnerved you. 

A sound of twigs snapping stunned you all and Haechan shone the light at a tree where the noise seemed to come from, just quick enough to see a squirrel scurrying up a tree trunk. As far as any of you could tell, it was the same tree the first noise sounded from. Haechan assuringly declared, “It was just a squirrel.”

Your breaths came easier. Exactly what you suspected, but it would never hurt to be one-hundred percent sure. Though even with that burden off your shoulders, unease still penetrated you. 

Jaehyun, Yuta, and your boyfriend seemed fearless, while Ten and Winter were relieved that they’d been frightened over nothing. But you were still not entirely convinced. 

Was it only you? 

The rumors and spooky stories are getting to my head. That’s all, you consoled yourself. You’re in apparently haunted woods. Woods alone are scary enough, haunted or not. And this is your first time. Fear is natural. 

Each of you turned around and headed back to the campfire you hadn’t dared strayed too far from and sensing your unease from a mile away, Haechan pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Don’t be scared, baby girl. If any monster pops out, it will have to get through me before it hurts you,” he whispered softly in your ears. 

“I don’t want you to get hurt, either,” you huffed, voice muffled as you put your head in your boyfriend’s chest. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he told you sweetly. “I’ve been told I resemble a bear. The worst-case scenario is one attacks the trashcan and I have to communicate with it to discourage it.”

“And what if it’s a wolf?” 

Haechan tightened his hold on you, purring, “Well, I’ve also been told I’m big and bad.”

You snickered. Leave it to your wonderful boyfriend to melt your worries away with his equally brilliant humor. He made you forget why you had even been so scared in the first place, all by kissing you and making you laugh. 

The six of you decided you’d had your fill of spooky stories for one night and retired to your cabins for bed. You heard more than a couple of noises from the cabin across from you - Jaehyun and Winter’s - and promptly wished you would have also had the brilliant idea of bringing some noise-cancellation headphones. 

Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was a self-proclaimed genius (and maybe once or twice you fed his ego and agreed), and had an even better idea. He fucked you so hard that you tuned out the rest of the world, unable to hear anything over both of your own moans. 

In the morning, you woke up and took your time to crawl out of bed. Haechan had worn you out and you could still feel the soreness in your thighs from the night before. Not to mention the gentle morning sex you dreamed of, moans soft over the sound of birds tweeting quietly. 

It was closer to afternoon when you finally went outside and got some sunlight. Everyone was in their own atmosphere. You ate breakfast and listened to mother nature for a while. 

There was a lake walking distance from the campground and one of the boys called out your name, boarding two three-person canoes. You recognized the voice as Jaehyun’s and he asked, “Wanna go canoeing with us?”

You mulled it over, but noticing Ten’s eyes on you was all the discouragement you needed. Each of the four boys were aboard, including your boyfriend. Ten was as dear a friend to you as the other two, but that was it. No part of you wanted to make things even more awkward and strained in the friendship than they already were. 

Though you and Haechan may not have dropped any comments, Ten’s lingering eyes were definitely not lost on either of you. Besides, being with a bunch of guys was not your idea of a vacation well-spent. You refused to leave Winter alone at a potentially haunted campground. 

For that reason, you had a feeling that Jaehyun was only asking to tease Ten, but you declined the offer nonetheless and said sweetly, “I’m good. I’ll stay and keep Winter company. You guys have some brotherly bonding time.”

The boys told you to have fun and you bid them likewise. 

You immediately scouted Winter afterwards and found her taking pictures of wildflowers. Unnoticed, you decided to slowly creep towards her, but your fun was ruined when she said without turning around, “I know you’re there. You can’t beat the master at her own game.”

You frowned.

Winter turned around, smirking at the fact that she’d caught you with your trousers down. “What’s up, bestie?”

You flopped against a blanket she’d sprawled across the ground. “Do you think Ten likes me?” you asked, fidgeting. 

“As more than a friend? Definitely,” your best friend said, coming to join you. “Jaehyun told me the boys are going canoeing. I can only hope Haechan doesn’t try to drown him.”

You knew she was only being funny, but the thought made you shiver. Of course, you knew your boyfriend well and he would never. The trust you had in each other was all needed to comfort him and to know that you were all his was more than enough. 

He could be possessive, but not over-possessive. He liked to stake his claim to you, holding you and kissing you in front of people so they knew you were his, and leaving visible marks on your neck in  your alone time for the same purpose. He never demanded your complete attention, as much as he adored being in the center. 

Tiny gestures never made him feel bitter. You had no painful memories of your boyfriend’s jealousy. The opposite, rather. He fucked you extra hard until he felt better. 

You fought a smirk. At worst, he was a little meaner than usual. But damn it did you like it when he was mean and rough. 

You defended your boyfriend and said, “My boyfriend is an angel. He doesn’t get jealous.”

“Your boyfriend is a Gemini. Duh, he gets jealous,” Winter argued teasingly, seeing dead through you. A silent understanding passed between you. She liked the jealousy sex, too. “He was so mad at me yesterday.”

“That’s because he was angry. Not jealous. You hurt me and he hates when I’m hurt.” 

“Whatever,” your best friend replied, fondling with her camera that Jaehyun bought her for her birthday this January. “Wouldn’t it be funny if I reviewed the pictures and I saw a ghost?”

You grimaced. “That’s one way to put it. For sure.”

“Okay, maybe not funny. But I don’t think these woods are haunted. I believe the stories about the suicides and murders, but evil spirits? That’s a humongous stretch.”

Never mind yesterday’s confidence. Now, you only shuddered. Though you wanted to agree, there was something about these woods that rubbed you the completely wrong way. And it wasn’t only the tales of ghosts. There was an intangible kind of fear ready to consume you. No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t put your finger on where it stemmed from. 

That was unnerving to you. Only the weekend before, you were more than excited. There was no telling what traps laid waiting in Chimera, much less its woods, which made you all the more determined to unravel its mystery. 

Now, you wanted to leave the knots as tangled as they’d been discovered. 

“I guess,” you told Winter. If she thought nothing of the environment, then there was a chance you were overthinking it all. 

Winter heaved a pleased sigh. “It’s hard to imagine anyone could taint such a beautiful place with blood,” she said, gesturing around to Mother Nature’s handiwork.

 “That sounded strangely poetic,” you replied, feeling as if you were in some sort of murder mystery novel. 

Winter snickered. “As my favorite writer once said, ‘believe nothing you hear, and only one half that you see.’”

You gave your best friend a look and asked expectantly, “And what does Edgar Allan Poe have to do with anything?”

“Nothing.” Winter shrugged her shoulders. “I just found it fitting.” 

You laughed a little. In spite of its reputation, Chimera was by far one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen. Unsurprisingly, however, that alone wasn’t enough to attract tourists. When you checked the campground website, you ironically noticed they used its hauntedness as promotion to lure campers. 

Clearly, it was working. 

You found it interesting that Chimera was predominantly grass and trees. There were some signs of civilization, as you’d notice on the way to the campground, though mainly towards the center. Areas placed on the periphery of the town were especially rural. 

For instance, the woods. Wildflowers consumed your vision and you understood why Winter was at peace here. You bit your lip. You didn’t want to be a buzz kill, but asked quietly, “Do you ever get the feeling that something you fear is hiding in plain sight?”

Winter nudged you gently. “What do you mean?” 

“It’s just… I don’t know,” you exhaled frustratedly. “Something about this place keeps me on my toes.” 

“Do you think that girl was killed here?” 

You shrugged, trying to feign some semblance of nonchalance. “I think it would be easy to kill anybody here and get away with it. Think about it. There’s a lot of empty land to cover. Easier to live off the grid. You could be abducted from the mainland and no one would ever find you.”

“Okay, you’re thinking too hard,” Winter quipped with a wince. “I get why you’re scared, babe. But I also think you’re supposed to feel that way. For obvious reasons. What you need is a little distraction.”

That made you well with curiosity. “Like what?”

The second the boys were back from canoeing you and your best friend made a beeline to boyfriends, as if you couldn’t wait another. Winter had insisted only moments ago that good dick was all the distraction you needed and as badly as you wanted to make a spiteful argument, you had none to offer. 

But you also wanted to simply talk to Haechan for a while. Not only was he a lover, but a friend wrapped into one. Your boyfriend had a natural ability to abate your fears, but he was also someone that would listen to them and help you wrap your head around them.

You fought a snicker at how badly that made him sound like a therapist. After this trip, you had a feeling you might’ve needed one. 

Haechan sensed there was something off even from the other side of the lake and coiled an arm around below your ribs as soon as he got a chance, asking, “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes flickered. “How’d you know?”

“Gut feeling,” Haechan said with a shrug. “I know when my baby’s suffering. Talk to me.” 

Your heart promptly ricocheted against your ribcage. You glanced around. Jaehyun and Winter had already snuck off to their cabin for some loving while Yuta and Ten were chattering about whatever, but you still were in need of some privacy. 

You slithered into his arms and murmured, “I wanna be alone. With you.”

“There’s a nice little two-mile trail over here. Takes you around and back from over that way. We could shortcut it and be back in about thirty minutes or take the long way and come back in about sixty.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, gesturing for him to lead the way. 

Going deeper into the forbidden woods was not your idea of resolving your fears, but the marvelous landscape gave you little room for complaints. Plus, being there with your boyfriend was almost romantic. 

There was something about all this beauty that made you fear what was cloaked beneath. 

Haechan was very patient with you and for a while you both walked in silence, absorbing your surroundings until he said, “Ready to tell me what’s on your mind?”

“I don’t know what it is, really. But this place gives me the creeps and I can’t explain why. It just does.” 

“It’s not just the reputation, is it?” Haechan asked, seeing right through you. 

It was almost scary how perfectly Haechan could piece you together. Nobody had you more figured out than he did. “You read me so well,” you murmured. 

Haechan chuckled. “I call it the fear of the unknown. You don’t know what’s out there, so anything could be out there. The shit we fear is often the same shit we can’t control, and that’s why it scares us.”

“Does the unknown scare you?” 

“No,” Haechan said, but draped an arm over you as a reminder you weren’t alone. “I like unpredictability. Anything could happen. But I understand why it terrifies some people.”

You teased, “Then, what are you afraid of?”

Your boyfriend’s tone and response in general was a hell of a lot more sober than you were expecting, “Stagnation and routine. I hate being confined to patterns. You already know that, though.”

That you did. Haechan mentioned he was considering switching jobs solely because he wanted more flexibility in life. The pay was nice and so was the insurance and paid vacations, but something had to give. 

You supported him wholeheartedly, of course. Haechan never minded change and would have no problem adjusting, plus only having weekends (and scarce vacations) to each other was a ginormous test of your patience. He wanted more out of life. If he couldn’t spend it with you, then he saw little point. 

“Is that all?” you pressed. He was brave, but not fearless. The reminder was very warm to you. And strangely comforting. 

Haechan said without hesitation, “And losing you because of them.”

Damn it. Now, your heart was racing. It was no question how your boyfriend managed to sweep you off your feet. He was full of endless charm and sincerity. There was a kind of passion to him about you that was undeniable and never questionable. 

You abandoned your self-restraint at the campground and rose off the heels of your shoes, meeting your lips to his. He had to be out of his goddamn mind if he thought he would lose you any time soon. There was no way in hell you would be capable of replacing him. In a world without your boyfriend, you would rather die lonely. 

There was also something about learning your boyfriend’s fears that took the edge off your own. Maybe whatever they were rooted in was much simpler. This place spooked you because of the reputation attached. That was all. 

And now that you were making out with your boyfriend, his heavy hands on your hips, you really couldn’t have given less of a damn about these woods. 

He had the same idea and pulled you over by a tree. For a second, you clung onto your mind long enough to wonder what in the hell you were doing. Then, you lost it just as quickly. There was nothing but trees and plants out here. And maybe a couple of animals that would soon be traumatized. With the coast clear, you were welcome to be as reckless as you liked. 

Haechan instructed, “Knees.” 

You wasted absolutely no time in scrambling to your knees, what was left of your mind too warped to give a damn about the twigs crunching beneath your kneecaps. As always, you wanted to pleasure him and make him proud. Whatever the price may have been, you’d gladly pay it. No matter the sacrifice. 

Your boyfriend was amused, though not at all surprised when you hurriedly reached for his pants, tugging them down before he got the chance to give the order. You wanted to taste that big dick down your throat. 

There was something about Haechan’s size that made your mouth water and gape, ripe and ready, though also left you clenching around nothing at all. Obviously, you’d seen it a number of times before, but the element of surprise was a constant, non-changing factor. Damn it, you would never get tired of his cock. 

Haechan noticed the dazed look in your eyes and smirked. He tapped his cock against your lips and said, “Do you got it, or do you want me to fuck your throat?” 

“I’m going to suck the soul out of you,” you said with an unwavering kind of confidence. 

Haechan gave a snicker. He fisted your hair behind your head and you swiftly got to work, wasting not another second to swirl your tongue around the base of his cock. You liked riling him up, liked taking your time to draw him between your lips and you knew your boyfriend liked it, too. No matter how much he bitched and whined.

“Fuck,” Haechan whined when your tongue teased the tip. He was hard as bricks, which took pretty much nothing to happen whenever you were involved. 

You took his noises with delight, doing your best to ignore the tireless thumping between your plush thighs. As a distraction, you finally drew him inside your mouth, steadily swallowing him inch by damn inch as a measure to prevent yourself from gagging. Your cheeks were hollowed, breath entering through your nose. 

Haechan’s grip on your hair tightened as he hissed, a telltale sign you were doing something very right. Your mouth was so unfathomably darn warm around his size that he was beginning to lose his mind, but to be frank, he lost it the very same day he met you. 

A part of him used to hope that you would give it back, but insanity was a close friend of his now. Or maybe it was the dormant monster living eternally inside him, roused by you for whatever reason. And it was ravenously hungry. 

A kind of greed came over and dominated you, possessing you to suck him like you genuinely intended to suck the soul out of him. As many times as you’d done it before, there could only be so much of his soul still there, though not pleasure. Pleasure was forever and always. “Just like that,” Haechan moaned, basking in the heat of your tongue pressed to his cock. 

His praises only spurred you on. There was nothing you liked more than knowing how good you could make your boyfriend feel. Between the two of you lay a ride-or-die bond that nobody else would ever fathom. Even you somehow couldn’t comprehend how or why he drove you so crazy. You only knew you would do unspeakable things to please your boyfriend and sucking him off in the woods was far from the most bizarre thing on the list of shit you were willing to do. 

You made eye contact with a traumatized rabbit for a whole second and it was all you could do to keep yourself from laughing and spoiling the mood. You gripped the base of Haechan’s cock, sucking him and stroking him all the while. 

None of this should’ve had you dripping the way it did, but you could feel yourself only getting even wetter. You gagged a couple of times (with his size, it was inevitable) but never stopped, a sting of tears in your eyes forming out of twisted pleasure. 

Haechan liked looking down and seeing you on your knees way too much, his dick in your mouth and your tear-stained face glancing back up at him. Fuck, you knew what it did to him when you looked at him like that. 

Like a pretty little thing warped completely by him. 

“I’m gonna cum,” Haechan said, tugging your hair. You hissed, but as he once said, there was no pleasure without pain. Nowhere did you say you didn’t get a thrill out of the sting. “Shit, baby. Are you gonna take it?”

You bobbed your head, humming around him and having a laugh smothered when he promptly made a noise of pleasure. He always wanted to last longer, but you made short work of him. A weakness if he knew one. 

Noting that he was close to his peak, you pulled out all the stops to bring him to sweet release as quickly as possible. You loved witnessing your boyfriend disentangle, loved when he was running on empty without an inch of self-control. Haechan was at his worst here, rutting against your mouth to meet your pace with a roughness that never ceased to make you gag. 

He was fucking your throat nice and hard, pulling your hair to use as he so pleased until the pleasure became so great that he couldn’t hold back anymore, a wave of warm cum painting your tongue. He never stopped fucking your mouth until his orgasm passed completely, high-pitched moans making you pulse rapidly. You swallowed as much as you could, not wanting to dirty your clothes and leave evidence of your lewd behavior. 

Haechan pulled out eventually, chest undulating as he recovered from his orgasm, though he never forgot to ask, “You good?”

You nodded, wiping saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“I hope you’re ready to get fucked,” Haechan said, helping you to your feet. Which made you snicker. If fucking in the woods was crazy, you were both out of your goddamn mind in love. 

You moaned when Haechan kissed you again and you grabbed his cock in your palms, stroking him hard anew all the while. The longer you waited, the less you could ignore the fire igniting between your thighs that ached to be taken care of. 

Haechan shoved you against the tree after a while and didn’t bother to slide your panties down, only slipping them to the side, courtesy of your skirt. Your palms dug into rough bark and he instead cuffed your wrists in his own hand, tightening them at your backside. He steered his cock to your entrance with the other, your arousal making it all too easy to skid right inside. 

Your moans were instantaneous. Haechan stroked deeper and deeper until every inch was utterly nested inside your sweet cunt, his cock disappearing inside. He took pleasure in stretching you open, because even after fucking you time and time again, your cunt never seemed to get any less tight. He always had to coax his way inside, no matter how wet you were. 

“Haechan,” you stammered, mouth hanging wide open with moans of his name. 

As much as he liked hearing you moan his name, Haechan clamped his palm over your mouth, smothering your sounds while still keeping your arms locked behind your back. 

Though you and your boyfriend had admittedly had sex in a number of places, some debatably strange, the middle of the haunted woods undoubtedly took the cake. The view was nice. You had to admit that it was somewhat romantic being fucked by your boyfriend against a tree while staring at an array of vibrant plants and pretty skies. And being out in the open aroused you a little more than it should have. 

Your body shuddered when he released your wrists to cup a palmful of your breasts, slipping his hand beneath your shirt and his finger kneading your nipple. “You’re so beautiful like this,” Haechan exhaled. Even now, he sometimes struggled to comprehend that he could call someone as beautiful as you were his, but he would be damned if he let anyone snatch away his girl. 

You listened contentedly to the sound of Haechan’s low groans of pleasure and sticks being crumbled beneath your toes as he pounded into you roughly, your fingernails finding purchase in the tree’s gnarled surface. All you could do was whimper, rooted in place and left to take all he gave you. 

Haechan hit a deep spot and you cried into his palm, a weakness making your head spin with dizziness. He simply had a power over you, goddamn it. Your body could never get enough, a depthless well of lust and arousal in the face of your boyfriend. 

As if he could hear whatever your muffled voice said in the crook of his palm, Haechan’s pace quickened, fucking you tirelessly with a passion that could never be sated. You wallowed in the sound of his hips slamming into yours with a sharp, wet slap. There was no denying what was happening if anyone made the unfortunate mistake of walking by.

Fortunately, your only company were harmless animals and possibly a couple of wandering ghosts. 

The harder you were fucked, the harder it was to stand on your own. Haechan took and took from your body but left a crushing kind of pleasure that rendered you weak and another indescribable feeling, smothering you with the unknown sensation. But instead of fear, it aroused a dangerous curiosity within you. 

“So good for me,” Haechan moaned, draping his lips over your already mark-stained neck. Your entire body was nearly coated in dark bruises ensuing after a long session of fucking and sucking and love-making. “You always gotta feel so damn good.”

His palm slacked on your mouth and you whimpered, “Baby, too much.”

Haechan slowed himself for a second and asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head and ironically whimpered at his slower pace. God, no. You wanted Haechan to fuck you numb. 

He snickered and picked back up his quickened rhythm. “That’s my girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Take it for me, baby.”

Never had your body ever felt so stimulated and alive, every muscle taut with pleasure. It was a lot, but you took it like a champ, loving the way your boyfriend’s thick girth filled you up, hard and stiff. Fire set you ablaze, heat igniting at the vortex of your thighs and shooting through you like a bundle of fireworks. You were smothered by heat, scorching all over. 

Your bodies were on autopilot, sweat beading at the surface of your skin and making your clothes adhere. You were sticky with sweat and arousal and eventually bits of Haechan’s cum, the part you were most excited for. The thought of your boyfriend emptying his balls into you alone was more than enough to make your walls clamp around his cock, wanting to literally milk him dry. You moaned in anticipation. 

“Want you to cum,” you whimpered, body thumped forward with every heavy thrust inside you. “Baby, please. I wanna make you cum.”

Haechan bit his lip when he heard you beg. Why did you have to be so damn sexy? It was the perfect way to bring him over the edge. “Gotta take care of my girl first, baby,” he whispered sweetly in your ear. 

As soon as those words escaped his mouth, you finally noticed how close you were, body under pressure and ready to snap. You could hardly even stand upright on your own, knees very liable to giving in (and more sore than you could notice over numbing pleasure). You were prepared to be broken beyond reclaim. 

“Baby, I…”

“I know,” Haechan shushed you with a sweet peck to your cheek. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here. Let go.”

That was all you needed to hear before you couldn’t fight release anymore and it toppled over, draping over you in totality. You came so hard that tears began to well from your eyes, your hands desperately clinging to the tree bark, bruises ready to form all over. Haechan brought his palm back over your mouth quick enough to smother a prolonged, sated scream. 

He whispered praises in your ear even your body slackened, limp against the tree but still letting him use you as needed. You were trembling with anticipation, restless as you waited for him to fill you to the brim. “Baby, please,” you begged. “Fill me up. Fill me up...,”

Haechan developed a ruthless pace now, absorbed in your desperate chants and the way your pussy pulsed around his cock, endeavoring to trigger his climax. He was tangled in the heat of you, dangerously close and gripping your hips so harshly you whined, “Fuck,” into his palm. 

Soon enough, listening to the sound of your sweet voice and muffled cries got the best of him and Haechan’s hips stilled inside, cock twitching with orgasm and promptly releasing hotly inside you. He gave a long hiss while you sighed pleasantly, satisfied at long last. 

Your boyfriend cleaned you up while you rested against the tree, feeling lightheaded. He ensured your skirt was in place and brushed off tiny specks of dirt that had clung to your knees. Haechan, as always, was restless, but you were still trying to catch your breath from the hell of a nut that he had only now given you. 

And you could feel his release still warm between your thighs, caught in your panties. 

You were as fucked out as you looked and he wallowed in the darkly arousing sight of you, evidence of what happened etched across your face no matter the length you went to hide. 

Haechan fought a sly grin and asked, “Ready?” 

You nodded. But when you went to walk, you reeled. Tomorrow was Sunday and that morning you would be kissing these woods goodbye, but you had a feeling your boyfriend would leave you too sore to work come Monday. 

Not that you were complaining. You could only wonder if that was part of his master plan. 

“Disgusting,” Winter sneered lightheartedly when she noticed you limping back to the campground. 

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. I’m sure you and Jaehyun gave the boys a lot to raise hell about while we were gone.” 

Jaehyun, directly beside his girlfriend, pulled her into his arms and said, “Hey, it’s not my baby’s fault she’s loud.”

Winter hummed in agreement. “Right. It’s his.”

“Who’s disgusting now,” you remarked with a playful grimace. 

Haechan - for once in his entire life - was silent, too focused on helping you to a shower. He only chuckled a little and ushered you away to take good care of you.

You felt a hell of a lot more refreshed once you cleaned up and had a change of clothes, though ironically energetic. When in need of a nap, Haechan  fucking the shit out of you plus a nice bath usually did the trick (although the bathroom luxuries were limited outdoors), but somehow you were given a burst of energy. 

Though not too long ago you were spooked by what lay in hiding in these woods, there was now a rain cloud of dread and sadness hanging over you when you realized this trip would be ending all too soon. You were having way too much fun in the company of your friends and boyfriend. The last thing you wanted was for it to end.

This place was growing on you. And now that it had, it was almost time to leave. The goddamn irony. 

You stepped outside. Jaehyun and your boyfriend were firing up the grill and Yuta was talking to a squirrel (you would rather not ask), meanwhile Winter was strangely nowhere to be seen. But Ten was at the empty campfire, spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose as he flipped pages of a rather thick novel. 

You chuckled. It was almost endearing. Some things never changed. 

Your contemplative face was on. The conversation would have to be had one way or another. That much you knew. Your options were clear, though dull. Either address the elephant in the room, or create a rift in your relationship with willful ignorance. 

So, you hauled ass right over to that campfire. 

Ten was startled by your sudden presence and given the circumstances, he was prepared to give someone an earful over the unannounced interruption, but swiftly silenced himself when he noticed it was you who’d come to his side. 

You winced when you noticed his jumpy reaction. “Sorry. Did I scare you?” 

“No,” Ten lied and put his book face down. “What’s up?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to talk.”

That kindled his interest. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” you replied nonchalantly. “What are you reading?”

“This book about the cycle of darkness and light. It’s in German. It’s about how the light replenishes what the darkness steals, but the darkness will always undo it again regardless.”

That genuinely piqued your curiosity. “Sounds deep.”

“Oh, yes. There are plenty of figurative details about hope and hiding your quote-unquote darkness to other people. The author likens human beings to the moon. We all have a dark side, but other people only see the lit part of us,” Ten said, and you beamed at his enthusiasm. “The part we want them to see.”

You leaned over to notice the novel was indeed in German. And impressed that he could comprehend it nonetheless. “Do you have a hidden dark side?”

“‘We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves.’”

“François de La Rochefoucauld,” you replied, recognizing the quote. 

Ten stared at you, wide-eyed. “You know?” 

You nodded with a smile. “He also said, ‘true love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.’”

Ten went dangerously silent and you knew you’d struck a sore spot, but you weren’t done applying pressure. 

You continued, “You’re a really good friend, Ten. And a great guy.”

“Don’t.” 

You cocked your head. “Don’t do what?” 

“Don’t be nice! Don’t be you,” Ten whispered frustratedly, standing to his feet. Which you did suit. “Do you know you’re the only person in this world who’s never laughed at me?”

It was your turn to be quiet now. Tension had a heavy hand clamped over your mouth. 

“You’ve never mocked me. Never made fun of me. The only time you’ve made me feel less than someone else is when you and Haechan got together. Even then, none of it was your fault.”

Grabbing his hand, you crooned, “I’m sorry.” 

That only exasperated Ten even more and he swatted your hand away, though careful not to hurt you, and hurriedly scooped his things into his arms. “Just stop. Don’t let me down gently. You’ll only make it harder on me.”

Ten stormed off before you could get another word in and you merely stood there, riveted in place. You glanced around and were relieved that nobody seemed to notice, but a sour sensation broiled in your gut as you wondered if you’d only rubbed salt in all the wrong wounds. 

For fuck’s sake. Maybe it would have been a better idea to wait until you’d left the campground. At least then you wouldn’t have potentially ruined his whole trip. 

Jaehyun passed out hotdogs as they were coming off the grill and everyone gathered together for an early dinner, but Ten was still nowhere to be seen. Yuta came to their shared cabin and offered him food, but he denied it, sulking all alone. 

“I mean, shit. What did you do to him?” Yuta asked you once he returned. 

You gave him a hard glare and ignored the question. “You guys should be nicer to Ten. He’s a little sensitive right now,” you scolded, then turned to face your boyfriend who was sitting directly next to you. “You, too.”

Haechan threw his hands up. “Yes, ma’am.”

You gave a prolonged exhale. It was no secret Ten had a mean crush on you, though you had denied it for as long as possible. Now that you’d confronted the issue at hand, it blew up in your face. For that reason, there was another unsettling feeling coming alive in the pit of your stomach, making your skin crawl. 

But this time, you knew why. Ironically, you couldn’t tell if that was worse. 

Nothing else was seemingly out of place and the evening carried on as usual, but you were definitely on edge. The shorter days meant an earlier sunset and by the time the sky dimmed pitch-black, most of the others had retreated to their respective cabins, in favor of escaping the approaching threat of bloodthirsty mosquitoes. 

Except for you and your boyfriend, who approached you carrying two glasses of champagne and handing you one.

You accepted the glass and gave him a look. “And what are we celebrating?”

“Making it through the weekend. Alive,” Haechan joked, taking a seat next to you. 

“Mm. You know what champagne does to me.”

He nodded, like that was the whole point. “Yeah. I expect your hands to be all over me in five minutes tops.”

You snickered and sipped from your glass quietly. Haechan placed a cool hand on your thigh, a stark contrast from the raging heat of the campfire crackling merely inches away from you. The sensation was very welcome. 

There was no one around save for you, your boyfriend, and a large number of still trees. Haechan was usually full of conversation, but he was too preoccupied in drawing circles on your bare thighs, caught in how much he loved them. You smiled slyly. The feeling was mutual. Your boyfriend had some thick ass thighs.

Then, your thoughts were dark, and you frowned at the reminder of the terrible dread reeling like a vortex in your belly. “Ten likes me.”

“No offense, baby. But I think you were the last person to figure that out.”

You frowned. “I think I always knew, but I didn’t want to accept it. Because I value the friendship him and I have and I didn’t want that bond to be broken. I still can’t really believe he has feelings for me.”

“I don’t see what’s so surprising,” Haechan said, glancing up from your thighs to look you plain in the eye. “You’re a likable person, babe. I say the guy has taste. Too bad you’re already mine.”

Your lover more or less played compassionate, but you could tell he didn’t actually feel too bad about the situation. Or much of anything for that matter. Funnily enough, that kindled a kind of uncertainty in you. “Doesn’t it make you angry?” you asked curiously, threading your fingers through his bright head of hair.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why would it? I already know you’re all mine,” Haechan reasoned. “I don’t need any affirmation because I know I own your mind, body, and soul. It’s like I have you under a spell.”

Maybe the champagne had you under a spell, because you swore he looked even better than normal, skin glimmering courtesy of the crackling fire. You could see an identical inferno irate in his pretty brown eyes, blood-hungry and spiraling alarmingly out of control. You knew damn well you were playing with fire, but for whatever reason, you were dangerously in love with the burn. 

Your lover’s lips attacked you and you submitted to his touch, within the firing line of danger. Your hands found his body promptly, desperate for warmth, and Haechan smirked because he had predicted as much. 

He could never scare you. The more you uncovered about him, the deeper you fell into some depthless pile of doom. 

Haechan coiled one arm around your backside while the other skirted between your thighs, grabbing a feel of your clothed arousal. You moaned, already getting wetter. “You do realize this is our third time today alone?” 

“What can I say? I’m addicted to you,” Haechan said, kneading between your thighs and watching your lips fall with a pleased exhale. 

You kept touching and sucking each other until Haechan inevitably got a little too riled up hearing your sweet moans and gently pressed you against the thick log, a blanket already draped above. Strangely, time seemed to move slower, like the whole world was frozen over and there was no one else there. Nobody to interrupt your reckless fun. 

A tinge of heat blossomed inside your chest, rapidly spreading elsewhere when your boyfriend plucked your shirt and bra and started to kiss his way down your breasts. You clasped your palms on his shoulders, soft little sighs still doing a number on him as he nibbled at your flesh, cock growing harder. 

Just thinking about all the many times Haechan fucked you into oblivion had you in a drunken stupor and you begged demurely, “Please, baby.” There was nothing you weren’t willing to do if it meant he would stop drawing out the inevitable, no matter how good his kisses were. 

Haechan swore loudly and shoved a hand down your shorts, breaking the barriers and feeling your arousal coating his fingers. Did you always have to be so impatient and wet? Your head tipped back with a moan, body arching against his touch. 

You whimpered in surprise when Haechan brought you to a stand to sweep the blanket over the grassy ground and again when he pulled you to the surface, grabbing your shorts by the band and promptly tossing them aside. Haechan made sure you were far away enough from the fire not to be a safety hazard, but close enough for light and warmth. 

Not that you need very much of the latter. Your boyfriend touching you kindled sparks in your body hot enough to make you sweat all over. 

Your boyfriend hungrily stripped you both of your underwear and then lined his hard cock at your entrance, slippery with your own slick. In your mind, an eternity seemed to pass before he winded inside, and you clung tightly to your breath before you lost it forever. 

Haechan leaned below all the while, leaving a trail of sweet kisses up your stomach. You moaned loudly, arching into his touch, somehow feeling an elated sense of pleasure. You were blatantly more aware of his cock pressed deeply into your vice-like cunt, and your legs locked around his hips, pulling him even deeper. 

There was something new. Drunk sex with your boyfriend was always fun, but it wasn’t this. It was sloppier. It was teeth accidentally clashing and giggling into each other’s mouths. 

None of that was happening. Instead, every sensation was a million times more unrestrained and for a second you wondered if you were making it all up in your head or if your boyfriend was simply that good at pleasuring you. 

The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come, because you were too distracted by Haechan’s warm breath on your neck, tickling the flesh as he whispered a bunch of sweet nothings into your ear, full aware that it would bring you over the edge. You felt like a mad woman, unsure of anything and everything except for how perfect it felt to be in your boyfriend’s arms. 

“You feel so good,” Haechan moaned into your ear, and if you hadn’t already spiraled out of control, you sure as hell had now. 

“Fuck. God, Haechan,” you whimpered, too overwhelmed. How in the hell could he feel so good? Every inch of you was sensitive, but every sensation was heightened. “I fucking love this.”

You were half-tempted to pinch yourself to determine if you were lucid dreaming, but then Haechan dug his sharp nails into your hips and you instantly knew there was no denying you were very awake. 

Haechan poorly stifled a snicker and watched the bounce of your breasts as he stroked deeper and deeper. A wavering orange hue casted over your body and highlighted the irrefutable evidence of pleasure on your pretty face, courtesy of the campfire. 

Lord have mercy, you were beautiful. Nothing made him prouder than being able to call you his girl. No woman before you had ever left him so love-struck, so downright in love. You made him crazy in a way that he would never fathom, but what he did know was that he was in over his head and not even death could part you. 

A thought crossed your mind and incited a lustful greed within you, and you grabbed Haechan’s bicep, whimpering, “Haechan, stop.” 

That pulled him out of his little pleasure-induced stupor and Haechan ground to a halt, quickly scanning your face for any sign of discomfort he might’ve missed in his trance. Needless to say, he came short of answers.

“I wanna be on top,” you explained, making him pull out and lay beneath you now. “Just sit back and relax.”

Haechan submitted to you because for fuck’s sake, he was out of his mind in love with you, and whatever you wanted he would give you. You could cry for the moon and he would steal it for you. No questions asked. 

You switched positions to straddle his body, reaching for his cock and steering him to your entrance. Haechan moaned when he was fitted back inside, and your hands slipped to his chest as you eyed him, having the perfect view of his face tensing with pleasure of all kinds. 

Had you not been interrupted by a moan, you would have giggled. Your fingers pranced around his sensitive nipples and Haechan called out your name, palms seeking anchorage at your ass. You were both obviously driving each other insane, in a war to see who could take the other off their hinges. 

Haechan watched you bounce on his cock and it was the most beautiful sight in the world to him. Your mouth parted with blissful sighs and soft moans, your bodies an amalgam of sticky coats of sweat and hotness. 

“I love you,” Haechan blurted through ragged breath, but goddamn was it true. 

“I love you, too,” you moaned in the midst of fucking yourself on a very hard dick.  And trying not to lose what was left of you. “Shit. Holy fuck.” 

Haechan involuntarily thrusted up to meet your motions, matching your quick tempo. You could feel and hear the blood pumping rhythmically in your head, your pulse thudding. Each of your breaths were quick, like you could hardly breathe through the thick tension of pent-up love and desire between you. 

You simply couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You couldn’t fathom why it was so goddamn good. Even Haechan had to notice you were riding him harder than usual, chasing satisfaction with a craving that could never be satiated. You felt like an animal, wondering what it was that made him feel even better than you thought possible. 

Every insignificant detail was zeroed in on. Did he always have those little scratches on him? And had you been the reason? Your eyes fell up his neck and down his torso and you bit your lip smugly, noticing all the marks you’d left behind.  

“Baby, I’m so close,” you whimpered, rocking harder. 

“Come on, baby. You’re so beautiful,” Haechan groaned, close and throttled by the tension. You were closing in on him, wrapping around him so tightly and driving him to climax. 

The muscles in your thighs tightened and slackened, and you bounced to the rhythm of the pulsing between your legs. Haechan reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours, wanting to be thoroughly connected with you through every moment of your orgasm. 

He uncontrollably rambled some more praises in your ears about how good you felt and how beautiful you were, and you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, teeth clamping into your bottom lip to stifle a loud cry and way too immersed in pleasure to notice the pain. Your throbbing cunt and smothered cries prompted Haechan and he released inside, still fucking you back until he rested with a long exhale. 

Your body went limp, crashing at his side. Looking at the sky, you could see stars, but when you closed them, they were still there. 

Haechan immediately started to kiss you and you kissed back, tasting ecstasy on his lips. Your boyfriend cradled your body, whispering, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”

You remembered giving a soft little sigh of pleasure and Haechan taking the liberty of redressing you.

Everything after that was a blur. 

When you woke up, the sky was still perpetually dark, but you were in bed. You turned to your side and came to the eerie conclusion that you were very alone. Haechan was nowhere to be found. 

Maybe he’s just using the restroom, you reasoned. Yeah, okay. That happened. For your comfort, you decided to wait up until he returned. 

Half an hour later, Haechan was still a no-show. That was when you began to suspect there was something far more sinister at hand than a visit to the bathroom. You crawled from under the sheets and slipped on your shoes, determined to investigate the matter yourself. 

There was a pounding in your chest. Where could Haechan have disappeared to for thirty minutes in the middle of the night?

Except for anywhere. He could be anywhere in these goddamn woods and you would never find even a trace of him. A cool dread plagued your body and you wrapped your arms around yourself, praying your boyfriend was somewhere safe. You had a strange gut feeling that something heinous had happened and it was all around you, suffocating. 

You crept outdoors and oddly enough, noticed Yuta seated at the campfire. You remembered making love to Haechan there, because the memory was still fresh. For some reason, it felt like moments yet days ago altogether. 

Why was it still lit at this hour? More significantly, what was Yuta doing there so late? 

“Yuta?” you called out. 

No reply. He was stiff as a boulder. You approached him stealthily, wanting to believe he was only playing an evil trick on you. 

When you could finally get a front view of him, you cried out in a blend of surprise and terror. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the gruesome sight of Yuta’s lifeless body. You shrieked and screamed until your voice could barely muster a murmur. For a good while, you only stood there, muscles stiff with shock. Tears silently began to drip as they gathered at your eyelashes. 

You forced your eyes away from Yuta. His face had been burned so badly that you could hardly recognize him. The skin was disfigured with marks, wrinkly and apparently rotten. You noticed the purple lines around his wrists and his slashed throat and hoped he hadn’t been burned alive. 

You refused to look at him, refused to touch him. You cowered away, repulsed by the consuming stench of blood clogging your senses. Feeling nauseous, you turned over and knocked over two near-full wine glasses in your wake, bending your knees. It made you want to throw up. 

This could not be happening. You rubbed your eyes, like there was a chance sleep and your tears were making you delirious. A bitter taste parched your tongue as you prayed this was only a ghastly dream. You would not accept this as reality. You didn’t want to believe Yuta was - completely and irrevocably  - gone.

But regardless of how hard you tried, your body scorned you, refusing to wake up.

This was a living nightmare. 

For some strange reason, there was a canoe approaching the shoreline and you made a beeline for the lake, too blinded by your need for answers to pause and ask yourself why there was somebody paddling at this hour.

“Haechan?” you called out shakily. 

Nothing. Where could he have gone? The night was far too dark for you to piece together who was on the canoe. Which was unnerving.

Dread hit you tenfold when it dawned on you that Haechan could have been anywhere, slain and blood-splattered like how you discovered Yuta. 

Tears made your eyes burn. There was no way in hell your boyfriend was dead. But none of that explained what happened to Yuta. And were the rest of your friends okay?

Why did nobody hear you scream? 

The growing questions only made you tremble with mystification. You couldn’t for the life of you comprehend why anybody would want to do something so unspeakable to Yuta. He had been nothing but an incredible friend to you for years and a wonder to everyone he met. 

Anger briefly numbered you to your fear. Yuta didn’t deserve to die. Not in such a cold-hearted, brutal manner. Nobody did. The look on his face when you found his body was permanently etched into your memory. He had been burned beyond recognition. The damage was irreversible. Even if he somehow survived the burns, there was no way to undo the distortion. 

Your heart had never been so heavy. There was a possibility the wound to his neck killed him, but there was also a fair chance it only damaged him enough to render him unheard. 

What if Yuta tried to scream, but nobody heard him, either? 

You should have known coming to this haunted city was a fatal mistake. The rumors of people slaughtered in Chimera should have been more than enough to dissuade you, but you each were too goddamn stubborn.

Look what that had gotten you. A dead friend, a missing boyfriend, and an uncertain status on the rest of your number. 

The uncertainty about the rest of your friends only made you even sadder. Had they somehow slept through Yuta’s death, too? Or were they victims to a similar fate? 

No. That couldn’t be the case. Because if it was, then why had you been left untouched?

Surely, there were no goddamn miracles in this godforsaken place. 

You wracked your brain trying to remember what happened. For some reason, everything was fuzzy and disoriented. You recalled the whole day up to a point. Haechan and you fooled around in bed until you finally roused. Then, you had breakfast. The boys went canoeing. You went to annoy Winter with your paranoia.

The boys came back and you went on a hike with Haechan only to fool around some more. Then, you returned, took a shower, the boys fired up the grill and you had a conversation with Ten. He froze you out and stormed into his cabin for the night.

Everyone ate dinner without him, they eventually left, and you spent the night fooling around with Haechan under the moonlight. 

Then, everything else went black. You didn’t remember getting into bed with Haechan, but you assumed he carried you there. Your eyes got too heavy after orgasm and you seemingly passed out. 

That was strange. And maybe too much of a coincidence. But Haechan would never do anything to hurt you. Would he? 

Don’t be silly, you chided. Haechan loves you and he’s fucking missing right now. Instead of questioning him, you should be trying to find him before it’s too late. 

You didn’t even let yourself wonder if it already was too late. Haechan was not dead. Anyone could leave you, but not him. Not the boy who promised you forever and then some. 

Haechan was the common denominator, but Ten was the missing piece. You hadn’t seen him since you tried to turn him down gently and there was no telling if he ever came out the cabin since. He may have been in his feelings, but no anger could prompt him to do this. You were certain. 

You were certain about all of them. But if not them, then who did that leave? A ghost? 

Your heart raced quicker than ever before as you bolted to the lake, and you halted dead in your tracks when your feet landed right at its murky edge. The sky was still too dark for you to make out the body on the canoe. You squinted, but you couldn’t even see a body at all. 

Tall, thick trees covered the border of the lake. Moonlight filtered through some of the branches, though unfortunately, it didn’t come close to illuminating the canoe. You glanced at the water and saw a pair of eyes staring back at you. 

And they weren’t your own. 

For a minute, you couldn’t move. You went stiffly rigid, attempting to convince your brain that this was only a figment of your delirious imagination. But the wide pair of eyes didn’t move. They didn’t even blink. 

Fear flooded back into your body, bleeding thickly out of you, and you lurched back with an eldritch scream. Everything happened so damn quickly. Your back hit the trunk of a tree and the branches rattled. A body plummeted violently into the cool water, but you didn’t register the splash, veins pumping icy dread instead of warm blood. 

You didn’t investigate, slumping against the tree and pulling your knees to your bosom. You cried hot tears, because you recognized those eyes. They were the same ones you always caught staring at you. They were the same ones that looked at you with hurt and heartbreak the last time you’d seen them. 

Now, they looked at you with lifelessness. And they unmistakably belonged to Ten. 

“I’m sorry,” you cried, as if he could hear you. “I should have left it alone. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to make things worse.” 

There was no word to describe the depth and darkness of the feeling that plagued you now. You shuddered, an imagined nipping wind numbing you beyond the surface and to the very fucking core. It was brutal and ruthless. 

Every inch of your body was bitter with pain. You were so dizzy with shock and consternation that you couldn’t even stand. Your head ached from crying so damn much. 

You felt like you had done this to Ten. He was even harder to move on from. Your last memories were anything but happy and you could only picture the ache and longing absorbing his features, the hurt crushing the impact of his voice. 

Nothing made sense to you. Ten fell for your gentleness, but resented you for letting him down gently. You wanted to understand him. You wanted to make things better, but you failed and now you would have to live with that mistake forever. Because it was too late to undo. 

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” you croaked quietly, voice absent. “Now, I’ll never be able to. Please forgive me.”

Every breath you took was pained. You could barely speak without your voice cracking. There was no welcoming feeling. Especially not the self-loathing that swallowed you whole and throttled you. Everything you felt was cold and lingering, dark and unfurling. 

You must have spent an eternity sitting there sobbing your heart out, mourning your dead friend, because you only stood to your feet when you heard the sound of something meeting the shoreline. 

 The canoe. You had forgotten all about the damn thing and frowned when you saw nobody. You walked over and had your blood already not been icy, it would have run cold. 

Jaehyun laid sprawled across the canoe, completely soaked, like he had toppled over into the lake. 

“Jay,” you gasped, shocked. This whole time you had been calling out for a dead body. He was ghostly pale, hair stuck to his skin. 

You made the decision to reach over, careful not to rock the canoe too much in case you tripped over, and felt for a pulse. Even a weak one. Anything that proved he wasn’t gone. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Jaehyun was ruthlessly still. His body was like ice and in your head, a temperature of a negative degree. You accidentally left a bloody print on his arm, recouping your hand when you begrudgingly accepted he was no longer breathing and there was no chance of him ever doing so again, and crept back over to the shore. 

Just when you thought you had no more tears left to cry, they fell again, mocking you. You could dimly see your reflection, your tear-stained face a complete mess. 

That was the third dead body. With each one, you loss more and more faith that any of your friends were okay. 

But there was still Haechan and Winter. 

That made you confused. Jaehyun would never leave Winter by herself. Especially not in the middle of the night in dark, haunted woods. How in the hell did he get on a canoe by himself? 

The whole reason Jaehyun even came on this trip was to protect her in case this place turned out to actually be haunted. Was Winter okay? Jaehyun would never let anyone harm her, if there was anything he could do. They would have to get through him before they got to her. 

Maybe they did get through him. 

Rage warmed you and gave you life again. Whoever did this would pay. You would find them and seek sweet revenge. But first, you needed to confirm whether or not your boyfriend and your best friend were alive. 

Now that you thought about it, Haechan would never leave you alone, either. It simply wasn’t in his nature and didn’t make sense. Not even a little bit. 

When presented with a perceived danger, Haechan’s first instinct was to grab you and keep you sheltered in his arms. When you were frightened for your life, Haechan never failed to soothe you, promising you he would go through hell and back to keep you safe. 

That wouldn’t change all of the sudden. He was no coward. Now, your heart hurt, wondering if he had given himself up to protect you too. 

You turned around and made a beeline for Winter and Jaehyun’s cabin. You needed to find her. You needed to know she was okay. Together, you could get the hell out of here, but not before you found your boyfriend also. 

The campground was the same as you’d left, still as lifeless as before with Yuta’s corpse by the campfire, and you weren’t too sure how that made you feel. You darted to the right, immediately charging straight towards your best friend’s cabin. 

There were no lights on. The only source of light was the campfire burning in the center. It gave you hope that Winter may have been sleeping peacefully, oblivious to all that happened. 

But unlike you, Winter was a light sleeper. Wouldn’t she have noticed Jaehyun crawling out of bed or something? 

You frowned. You didn’t know what happened. Jaehyun could have sensed danger outside and went to investigate. He could have kissed her forehead and urged her to go to sleep. 

You shook your head and slowly opened the door, ignorant of the blood print you’d left on the knob, pulse speeding at the eerie sound of it pushing open. The darkness made you wary. You couldn’t even be sure if she was on the bed. 

For assistance, you turned on the light, and breathed a little in relief when you noticed a figure slumped under the sheets. But why was her head below the comforter? Winter never slept like that. Something about it being too hot and too hard to breathe. 

The relief you felt was short-lived. Dread returned and you inhaled and exhaled deeply. A part of you didn’t want to know if your best friend was dead or not. But she was too still. Like she wasn’t even breathing under the covers. 

You plucked the cover off her face and trembled. There was fresh blood on her chin, rolling down her lips. And a fork in her left hand. And you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew why. 

Gently, you opened her mouth, and when you saw that a piece of her tongue was no longer there you had a painful moment of realization. 

Your heart broke. It didn’t split down the middle, but broke into millions of pieces. Winter was dead. But you knew damn well Haechan was still out there somewhere, good and well. 

You grabbed Winter’s lifeless body in your arms and cried into her shoulder, oddly comforted by the fact her body was still warm. Everything made sense now. This was all your fault. 

Nothing was a coincidence. Winter frightened you and made you bite your tongue. Then, you found her with a fork in her hand, a piece of her tongue removed. Yuta gave you his marshmallow when you burned yours. Then, you found him with his face burned without a lick of mercy. 

Ten always stared at you. He was always watching. He looked at you with a kind of adoration in his eyes. You found him staring into his own reflection, body slumped on a tree. 

And Jaehyun offered to take you on a canoe ride with the guys. You found him sprawled across that very same canoe. 

“I did this to you,” you sobbed, grabbing her hand. You bristled when you noticed blood on her fingernails, knowing it wasn’t her. Winter fought to protect her damn self. 

And you knew who attacked her. 

You were so overwhelmed. You had never felt this many emotions at once before. Especially not this intensely. You were wounded and betrayed. Angry and regretful. Frightened and loathing. 

For a moment, you only cried in Winter’s warmth, holding her hand and blaming yourself for everything. You begged her to wake up. You begged her to smile and tap your arm, screaming, “Just kidding!” 

This had to be a prank. This had to be some cruel joke that you were the butt of, a trick at your expense. You wanted everyone to open the door one by one and laugh at you for falling for such a stupid scheme, but you knew in your heart it wasn’t true. 

You saw the very real marks on Yuta’s face. You saw the lifelessness in Ten’s eyes. You felt Jaehyun’s non-existent pulse. Even now, you could feel the warmth slowly leaving Winter’s body. 

Eventually you pulled away, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You saw the blood on the sheets and frowned. That hadn’t been there before. Only then did you notice the blood dampening your clothes. 

How long had that been there? Was it from one of the bodies? 

No, because I only touched Jaehyun. And he clearly drowned, you thought. But pushed the thought of Jaehyun’s drenched body out of your head as quickly as it came. 

There were more pressing matters at hand. You needed to get the hell out of here. And you needed to do so alive. Someone had to be the bearer of bad news. Someone had to tell your friends’ parents that their worst nightmare had come true. 

You found the courage to leave your best friend there and crept outside the cabin. Your phone was in Ten’s and Yuta’s. Goddamn it. 

The sight of Haechan emerging from the woods made you grind to a halt. You were scared for your goddamn life. You had no idea what your chances of survival were, but you got it now. Why you had been spared from your friend’s fate. 

The Haechan you loved was not the man staring at you from afar. The Haechan you’d come to know was not the man approaching you. He was somebody else. Somebody you were not familiar with and did not know how to handle. 

Adrenaline thumped in your head. You had a choice. You could flee or you could fight. 

For now, you decided to play dumb. 

“Baby,” you called out, colliding into his cold arms. “Everybody’s dead! Are you okay? What happened to you?”

Haechan stared at you unrecognizably. You knew you were looking danger dead in the eye. There was no warmth in him, no life. He had blood stains on his clothes and scratches on his face. 

From Winter, you bristled inwardly. You banished the thought, knowing your cover would be blown the longer you thought about how he had preyed down your friends. 

Haechan coiled an arm around you and said simply, “It’s not my blood.” 

“Not your blood?” you repeated slowly, pulling yourself away. “Then, whose blood is it?” 

Your boyfriend only smiled. “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart,” he said sweetly, but you knew only venom was inside him. 

You wanted to scream. There was no deceiving him. You could tell he already knew. Haechan read you like an open book and you knew he would never not have you all figured out. 

Giving up deception, you cried, “Why?” 

“Because you’re mine,” he explained with a gentleness to his tone, approaching you despite picking up on how adamant you were on keeping him at arm’s length. “Don’t you see? Everybody wants to keep us apart. We can be alone now.” 

“Haechan, nobody was keeping us apart,” you said, unable to justify his actions. 

“Yes, they were,” Haechan argued. “Like the old geezer at your job. He worked you too much and paid you too little. I was doing you a favor.” 

You paused as you processed his words. He was talking about your boss. The same boss that mysteriously died a couple of weeks back. You put the pieces together. 

You gasped, “You killed him?”

Haechan scoffed. “Don’t give me that look. I know you hated the guy. I remember the smile on your face when you told me your boss was dead.” 

“Yuta, Ten, Winter, and Jaehyun weren’t keeping us away from each other,” you hissed, using rage as your fuel and hatred as your anchor. “They did nothing to us.” 

“They were nuisances. You spent too much time with them. You’re better off without them anyway, baby. Winter hurt you and laughed in your face. I mean, what kind of best friend does that? Of course, I had to eliminate the bigger threat before I got to her.” 

The bigger threat was Jaehyun. He would go to the ends of the earth for Winter and you could tell from the moment he was introduced to you. You gave him the golden stamp of approval for a reason. 

Jaehyun would protect Winter until he had nothing left to give. You had no idea how Haechan took him down, but at this point, you didn’t want to know. It made you well with pain. You hoped they met again in the afterlife and in the next one with a much kinder fate.  

Haechan continued, “Yuta was too comfortable. I didn’t like how he talked to you. He always got too close, leaning into you and shit. I had enough. And Ten definitely wanted to take you away from me. I know you saw how he looked at you.” 

The pressure in your heart was building. You couldn’t breathe. You needed a pulse. The whole world was upside down. “You said… you said it didn’t make you angry. You told me that you didn’t care about those kinds of things. I thought you were different.” 

“Don’t you dare compare me to them,” Haechan chided, stepping closer. You stumbled and he caught you in his heavy arms, not letting up even when you tried to swat him away. “I love you better than your exes ever did. They didn’t care for you, baby. They could never love you like I do. Nobody can.”

Struggling in his arms, you screamed in his face, “My exes didn’t kill all my fucking friends!” 

Haechan started to laugh. You gaped at him and his audacity. There was no kind of levity in this situation and yet he was humored. You knew now that your boyfriend was a goddamn psychopath. 

You managed to slip away from him by grace of his distractedness and barked, “What the hell is so funny?” 

Haechan explained through bursts of laughter, “Do you think I could have killed four people by myself? We did this together, baby. Just look at yourself.” 

You reluctantly did as told. That was when the blood on your clothes finally made sense and you started to feel dirtier than ever. Was your friends’ blood on your hands? That would explain the blood on Winter’s sheets. 

Unable to endure the pain, you dropped to your knees, losing the strength to stand. The blood was everywhere. It stained your palms. Now, conscious of its presence, you were hyper aware that you were covered in your friends blood and the feeling was akin to being dipped in acid. 

How could you have only now noticed? You were too frenzied searching for your friends, searching for a spark of life in this desolate city. 

You clung to denial, chanting through sobs, “No. No, no, no.”

“Shh,” Haechan sang, pulling you into his embrace gently. He had stopped laughing, but this was a man incapable of empathy. No matter how convincing he was. “We’re finally alone, sweetie. No one to steal you from me.”

You hated yourself for not loathing the way his body felt around yours. There was a big part of you that wanted to go back to a couple of hours ago, when you thought it was only him and you in this world, and you had no idea the traumatic experience you’d have only hours later. 

That made the world stop. You found peace for a split second before hell peeled the corners of your vision again. Your head rose up, and you looked Haechan in his empty, dark eyes. 

Had you imagined the spark there? No. You had to look deeper. There was a fire there, a web of temptation, desire, and viciousness. That was what you saw in him. It was passion, but you had mistaken it for a different kind. 

“Haechan?” you called out. 

Your boyfriend said pleasantly, “Yes, my dear?” 

“Did you put something in my champagne?”

“Yes.” 

At least he was honest. For once. 

“You spiked my drink,” you began, voice cracking. “Because you knew I would never agree to your sick ways in my right mind.” 

To your dismay, Haechan didn’t deny the accusation, only giving you a sickening smile and stroking your hair gently. Like your whole world wasn’t upside down now. He,  like this was some kind of joke, merely said, “Ahchoo.”

You bristled with a vicious wrath. Haechan was out of his goddamn mind. He didn’t give a single fuck about what he had done and frankly, you’d had enough of trying to converse. You needed to get out of here immediately and seek help. There was no way you would play along with his twisted delusion. 

A chimera. 

Your heart stopped when you once again came to the brutal realization that your phone was trapped in Yuta and Ten’s cabin. You knew Haechan would never let you get away with a phone call. If you could even make one. In the middle of nowhere, there was no such thing as Wi-Fi or service. 

Plus you were surrounded by acres of trees and water. Where the hell would you go? The main road would be too damn obvious even if you somehow managed to get there. And without a car, you were positively out of luck. 

Haechan’s tone was saccharine, but there was only poison in his voice as he leaned into your ear and warned, “Whatever you’re thinking; don’t you fucking dare.”

You glared Haechan dead in the eyes, adrenaline coming over you, and you gave him a smack across the face. 

Then, you leapt up and bolted into the woods. Haechan only laughed when you slapped him, but you didn’t turn around, and you damn sure didn’t stop. Fucking psycho, you sneered. 

You vanished into the thick trees, now grateful for the darkness, though time was running scarce. Daylight would be approaching soon. Shock made you lose track of time. There was no telling how long you’d spent losing what remained of your sanity.

You were a livewire, blood pumping in your ears. The sound of twigs snapping behind you made you hyper aware of Haechan’s manhunt and you knew he wasn’t far behind, but you never gave up. Your legs ached from the lack of oxygen, but your white flag was still lowered. You would never give him the satisfaction of surrender until you knew you’d done all possible to save yourself. 

Your lover called out from somewhere behind you, “You can run, baby - I love a chase - but you can’t hide.” 

The rage blindsided you. He was the epitome of a nightmare dressed like a daydream. How could you not have noticed? This was the man you spent every spare second of your day with. How could you not have seen him for the creature he truly was beneath the surface? 

Haechan liked the hunt. There was still a chipperness to his tone even as he followed the noise of your feet scurrying through those dark, wicked woods. He was evil. He was a monster. But you knew now that the villains of this godforsaken town were not ghosts or spirits - they were the very people you trusted with your life. 

Tears blurred your vision and shock made the world swivel. You refused to be another rumor. You refused to be reduced to another campfire story. You would fight for your life up until your very last exhale.

“Where do you plan on going, darling?” Haechan asked, tone welling with concern. “There’s nothing or no one out here for miles. You’ll die out here before you find someone to save you.”

You slammed into a tree and swore louder than you would’ve liked, knowing Haechan was hot on your trail because you could hear him chiding you for being so clumsy. 

“But you didn’t die out there,” said your therapist. 

You bobbed your head. “I got back up and I ran,” you told her, shuddering as you were forced to place yourself back in what was easily the worst day of your goddamn life. “He was so close. I ran into the daylight. I was in those woods for days. I had nothing. No food, no water.” 

“You had resolve,” the therapist corrected. “Because of that, you’re here to tell the story.”

You nodded a little, because you only barely survived. You genuinely thought you would die that night. If not by Haechan himself, then eventually hunger or dehydration.

“Why does this always happen to me?” you cried. “Every time I fall for someone, they treat me like a possession. But I never thought it would go this far. How come I didn’t realize until it was too late? I even…their blood is on my hands.” 

The therapist stopped you right there. “He took advantage of your trust and adulterated your champagne without your knowledge to make you easier to manipulate. You said it yourself. He knew you would never agree in your right mind.”

None of her consolation helped. Half a year had passed since the most traumatic event of your life. The wound still felt fresh. You could still hear your friends’ voices and see their faces following you everywhere. 

And knowing that their blood was on your hands made things even worse. You could hardly live with yourself. None of this would have happened if you would have never met Haechan, if you would have never given him the time of day. They would still be here, living their lives. 

It wasn’t fair that only you and that monster survived that day. You despised yourself for giving him access, but you loathed him for what he took from you. 

For what he took from them.  

She asked, “Have the nightmares stopped?” 

The nightmares started a little after that weekend and hadn’t ceased since. They would return to you every single night as you slept, more or less the same as before. You would be running for dear life as Haechan hunted you down. The setting was never the same. Some nights, he would chase you through a labyrinth of trees. Others, through a never-ending hallway. No matter the setting, he would hunt you until he finally caught you and leapt over you.

But only once he uttered the same four words in your ear would you wake, “You’re all mine now.”

They were simple, but they never failed to creep the living hell out of you. 

You shuddered. “No. But they’ve become less frequent.”

“And why do you think that is?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It happened after I started spending time with this guy.”

That piqued her interest. “New boyfriend?”

“Not really,” you replied, the mere thought making you tremble. “I’m talking to this guy - Mark. He’s really sweet and I do like him, but I told him I’m not ready for a relationship. Frankly, I’m not sure if I ever will be again. But we still spend time, because I like his company.”

“That is a completely normal response after being exposed to a traumatic event. It may cause you to be emotionally distant, self-protective, and wary of others intentions. It is a difficult part of the process of healing and learning how to navigate through life as you did before.”

Though you already knew the answer, you asked, “Will my life ever be the same?” 

“Not likely,” the therapist told you honestly. “This is a new beginning for you. You’ll be learning to shed your old skin and adapt.”

You frowned. 

The therapist concluded the session not much later and you went home. Therapy was new for you. Ironically enough, it was never your idea. Instead of pressuring you into explaining what the hell happened to you, Mark suggested you tried therapy. 

To think of the boy sitting at home waiting for you was bittersweet. You sincerely enjoyed spending time with Mark, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to be vulnerable with him. Like the therapist said, you were being self-protective and wary of his intentions. No matter how hard you tried, you knew you would never be able to trust the same way again.

It made you feel as if you were keeping Mark’s heart chained away. Mark was gentle and the one to suggest you take things slowly, but a godawful feeling plagued you whenever reminded he was waiting for the girl he always wanted. And there was a chance you could never be that girl. 

You wondered what he saw in you. What he saw in a girl so broken that she couldn’t bring herself to love anyone. Did he want to take advantage of your vulnerability? Was he the same kind of evil as the ones before him? 

Love was a wager, but you had no more of yourself to give. 

As you stepped inside your car, you monitored everything around you and likely quadruple-checked the backseat. Ever since that fateful day, you were hyper aware of your surroundings. You may have escaped Haechan, but that didn’t mean he would never come back to stake his claim to you.

You drove, obsessively checking your rear-view mirror. Nobody was following you, but you could never be too safe. You were more wary than usual today. There was something in the air. 

Or maybe you were just extremely paranoid. That was more plausible. 

You hated driving through town. There was a song on the radio and it reminded you of Winter, because she would burst out singing whenever it came on. Jaehyun would be sure to duet with her. You changed the station. 

Then, you passed by a bookstore. That was where you met Ten. You remembered the very second your hands touched the same novel, fingers brushing against each other’s, and the glare you both exchanged then said loud and clear that neither of you would be backing down. But when he learned you had a copy of a book he’d been tirelessly hunting for, he let you have it and you promised to swap later. 

Unbeknownst to you, Ten freaked the hell out that night when it hit him that he had unintentionally scored a very pretty girl’s number. 

It was over for you when you saw the lake sitting at the side of the road. Yuta would meet you there for an afternoon jog whenever you had the spare time. Your friends would argue it was too romantic, but Yuta never gave a fuck what other people think. You were close, but he knew where you stood and Yuta would rather die than bone you. 

Tears threatened. Why couldn’t you get them out of your head? The guilt was eating you alive. You wanted your life back. But you tainted the chance of normalcy the second you caught a monster’s goddamn eye.  

As soon as you got home, you noticed another car parked in the driveway. Mark’s car. He asked if he could come over earlier to see you after your therapy session. You told him, “You know where the spare key is.” 

It was definitely frightening, but you wanted to trust Mark. He displayed no suspicious signs, no red flags. Then again, neither did Haechan. And everyone knew how that story went. 

No happy ever after. 

There was an overwhelmingly strong aroma of sauces and spices hitting you square in the nose the moment you stepped inside your house and there was a trail of roses predictably leading from the front door to the dining room. You cocked a brow. Since when did Mark learn how to cook? This was the same boy that could barely make instant noodles without burning you both alive. 

“Mark?” you called out. 

No reply. Which was odd. Mark couldn’t wait to see you. 

You hung your coat and followed the trail of rose petals as that was obviously what you were intended to do. The sound of old school romance music began to play even louder the closer you inched and you shuddered at how much it reminded you of Haechan. 

When he was bored, he would turn on the speaker and sing his heart out to you, making you laugh at how he danced and gave you a five-star performance. 

The memories used to make you smile fondly. Now, you were a well of unadulterated fear. 

Even this specific song tore you down. Haechan loved Michael Jackson more than anyone you ever knew. As far as you were concerned, Mark was more of an old school rap guy. 

You finally approached the dining room and your heart ricocheted at what you saw. There was Mark, bound to a chair with a gag in his mouth. And Haechan stood there with a twisted smile on his face as he saw you, holding a gun to Mark’s head. 

“Mark,” you gasped, knees buckling. 

You could hear Mark whimper faintly, though his voice was muffled. He looked at you with total fear in his eyes and you were more than apologetic, the self-loathing returning as you knew the innocent life of yet another person would ultimately be destroyed because of you. 

Haechan playfully whined, “What about me? I’m here, too.” 

“You fucking monster!” you screamed. 

Your now ex-boyfriend switched on a dime and pointed his gun at you, sneering, “Sit down.”

With a fatal weapon pointed to you, you quickly complied, finding a seat at the table. You noticed there were two plates there, each at the head of the table. Mark was forced to sit at the side. 

Because he had no part in this game. He was only another nuisance, as Haechan had put it in his own terms. Another obstacle to be eliminated. Tears stung your eyes.

Your ex was delighted by your submission and took his seat at the other end of the table, facing you, but he kept his gun tucked close. You couldn’t ignore the plates in front of you both. Only God knew how long he had been waiting for you. You knew he wanted you to play into the fantasy you’d obstructed six months ago, however, your ex-boyfriend was anything but deterred. 

“I’m glad you finally made it. Mark and I were waiting for you to join us,” Haechan said, as if this was some friendly gathering and not a hostage situation. “Although, he was an unexpected guest. But it’s no biggie.” 

You sat there and pleaded, “Haechan, please don’t hurt him. This has nothing to do with him. You want me? Just take me. Leave him alone.” 

Haechan’s tone was lighthearted despite the betrayed nature of his words, “Wow. You like him that much? I thought I meant something to you.”

“That was before you slaughtered our friends like a beast,” you hissed, seething. 

Haechan corrected, “More like a pack of wolves. Everything we do is a group effort, baby. We’re a team. We’re in this together. There is no you without me and no me without you.”

You met Mark’s eyes and instantly knew what he was thinking. This guy is a total psychopath. 

He could tell this was what you had been hiding and you were aware. You had never discussed your trauma with him at length and Mark never made you feel any pressure to. Now, he understood what had you so scarred. 

You called with disdain, “Donghyuck.” 

Haechan ignored you calling him by his government name and changed his tone, feigning woundedness, “I can’t believe you tried to replace me, baby. You even told him where the spare key is. Did you actually think I wouldn’t come back to take what’s mine?” 

“I’m not yours, Donghyuck,” you told him, words dripping with vitriol. “And I never will be again. You had your chance and you blew it.”

“How could you say that?” Haechan asked, eyes wide and dark with an emotion you had no intention of understanding. “After all I’ve done for you. All I’ve done for us so that we could be alone together. I love you so much.”

For a second, you were at a loss for words, then explained, “This isn’t love. This is obsession. You need help.”

Haechan furiously snapped, “I need you. And I will stop at nothing to have you.”

Your ex-boyfriend stood to his feet and you entirely expected hell to break loose, but you were thrown for a loop when Mark tackled him to the ground, somehow unraveling his ropes while Haechan was distracted by you. 

Mark screamed at you, “Run!” 

You hesitated. You didn’t want to leave Mark there alone to die. The past six months had been spent trying to recover from the blood on your hands and you couldn’t go through that torture. There was a chance you would lose another part of your sanity that you barely had as is. But Mark gave you a look and you bolted out of there. 

As soon as you slipped out the front door, you heard a gunshot echoing and trembled, but you never stopped running. Your phone was in your car. You glanced around, expecting at least some of your neighbors to be concerned by the noise, though no one came. 

Your brows furrowed. There were cars parked in most of the driveways and this was a notably safe neighborhood. How could nobody care? 

The moment you got to your car you collapsed in relief when you saw your phone and immediately tried to dial the police, but strangely, your phone had no connection. You threw your head back frustratedly and nearly screamed at the top of your lungs. 

You didn’t even want to ask what the hell was going on. Haechan had returned to resume unfinished business, and this time, he would not leave empty-handed.

Your only other option was to go find help and you felt a twinge of worry sitting in your stomach when you realized that entailed leaving Mark by himself. You had no idea what was happening  - or had happened - in that house.

Without any other options, you searched for your keys and froze when you remembered that you’d left them in the pocket of your coat. Which you had hung up inside. 

You heard the front door creaking open and exhaled in relief when you realized it was only Mark, escaping unscathed. For now. 

Mark was heaving for breath and incredulous when he noticed you only standing there. “Why haven’t you left?”

“I left my keys inside,” you explained frantically, running into his arms. “I tried to call the police, but it didn’t work. And nobody came outside after the gunshot. I think he did something.” 

Mark made a face because despite both your cars parked in the driveway, he didn’t have his keys, either. “We have to go right now. None of us were shot. He’s going to come looking for you any second now,” he said, grabbing your hand and yanking you down the street. 

You could hardly match his long strides, but adrenaline gave you a surge of strength. Between your feet and your pulse, you couldn’t decide what was quicker. Your heart was thumping so loudly you swore Mark could hear. 

The curiosity consumed you and you asked through ragged breath, “How’d you get out of the ropes?”

“Five years of summer camp in a row,” Mark explained. “I never thought learning how to untie knots would benefit me, but look at God.”

Noticing how tightly he was holding your hand only made you weaker. You hoped and prayed you would come out of this unscathed. Not only you, but Mark too. You couldn’t lose another person at the hands of your psychopathic ex-boyfriend. The guilt and self-hatred would consume you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” you cried. 

“We’ll talk about this when we’re safe,” Mark told you, clearing another corner.

You heard Haechan’s smooth voice calling after you, but his tone was downright spine-chilling. He was out for blood. Mark held you closer to his chest as you both sprinted down the sidewalk, praying to god Haechan didn't know where you’d gone. 

It was downright odd. Why was no one there but you three? The weather was perfect for an afternoon walk with your dog around the neighborhood, but there was nobody. Not even someone tending to their garden or taking out the trash. And how had no one bat an eye at the piercing sound of a gunshot? 

Wondering if it was a coincidence or if there was something much more nefarious at work made your head spin. The emptiness was unnerving. You couldn’t comprehend how Haechan could have gotten the entire neighborhood to evacuate, but you had underestimated him once. You weren’t keen on doing so again.

Having Mark there to support your weight was the only thing keeping you from dropping to the ground in surrender. You were just so tired. You were tired of running, tired of mustering the strength to rouse another day only to be haunted by guilt and regret. It was close to consuming you. And there would nothing of you to remain. You were running on empty. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was worn thin. 

“Come on,” Mark said, noticing your strength dwindling. “You can do this, baby. We can get out of here.” 

Mark ground to a halt to face you and softened when he saw your eyes. He could tell this had ruined you. He would never know the girl you were before Haechan alas broke you. 

There was an uncanny resemblance between now and your nightmares. Haechan was hunting you down like an animal, hot on your heels. Only now, you had Mark to protect you. But deep inside, you knew there was nothing that could stand in Haechan’s way when he wanted something. 

Mark cradled you in his arms when you slept and kept the monsters under your bed away. But this was the real thing. He couldn’t save you. No one could.

It all just happened so fast. 

A loud snap rended the air and the very next second, Mark was crouching on the asphalt, stomach gaping with blood. He was wide-eyed, a hand cupping his stomach. 

“Mark!” you screamed. 

You dropped to your knees, crouching beside him, and tried desperately to keep the blood from leaving him all too soon. But there was so much. The sight of the deep color staining your hands only made you nauseous with deja vu. 

Mark was weak, still on the sidewalk. He couldn’t scream, but you could see the pain in his pretty eyes. It thoroughly devastated you. 

“Don’t leave me. Please, Mark,” you begged, tears stinging your eyes. But you couldn’t hear yourself speak. You couldn’t hear yourself think. You were so fixated on Mark slowly fading away beneath your fingertips that you didn’t notice the presence behind you until it was too late. 

Haechan’s voice was saccharine but his eyes were welling with ire, “He’s not going to make it, darling. There’s no one out here to help him.” 

You ignored Haechan, plagued by fear or hatred or all of the above. Watching Mark die would be too overwhelming. At least you had no recollection of your friend’s deaths. Seeing Mark take his final breaths would kill you too. “Keep your eyes open for me,” you told Mark, noticing he was going cold. “Keep them open!”

Mark was struggling, but he tried for you. You could feel the last piece of you die as he fought for his life and you sat there, unable to do anything to keep him stable. He was dying. He reached for your hand with his trembling arm and squeezed with all the strength he could muster. 

That angered Haechan and seething with rage, he coiled his arms around you, pulling you away from Mark. 

You kicked and threw your arms back, screaming at the top of your lungs, “Get your hands off me, you sick son of a bitch! You’ve taken everything from me! I fucking hate you!”

Haechan was unbothered, only cooing, “You don’t mean that, baby girl. One day you’ll understand that everything I do is out of love for you.” 

Mark was coughing up blood now and the sight was horrifying. Tears rolled down your cheeks. You were in so much pain, covered in wounds only you could see. You could only imagine what Mark was feeling now as he took his last breaths. 

Mark called out your name faintly and said with the last of his strength, “Thank you for being the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

You screamed in agony and grief when Mark’s eyes shut on you. You begged him not to leave you. Though he was only unconscious, you knew you’d seen and heard the last of him. 

Your pain was converted to anger and you thrashed in Haechan’s arms, only wanting Mark’s embrace. “Let me go,” you shouted, trying to escape. But to no avail. Your hands burned with his blood. Every inhale was agonizing. “Let go of me!”

“Shh,” Haechan whispered, swiping a trail of tears from your face. “Don’t you see? He was trying to come between us.” 

Haechan still kept you close by, but finally released you. You kneeled to the ground, too overcome by dizziness to stand. Your mind was screaming at you. Your heart was pounding. Every piece of you was so dead yet alive altogether. You could only scream, wanting to take your friend’s fate for them. 

Nobody heard you. There was nobody there. You cried and raged, but save for you, Haechan, and Mark’s lifeless body, the whole neighborhood was empty. You were alone in your pain and suffering and nobody would hear you cry. 

“Why?” you turned to Haechan and screamed, lips trembling. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”

Haechan pressed his lips to your ear and told you with no hesitation, “Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” 

Had you not already dissolved into tears, you would have. Life as you’d known it was forever gone because of this man and it had become unbearable now. There was no way you could live with yourself anymore. The guilt was overpowering. You were being self-protective, but Mark had died to protect you. Winter, Jaehyun, Yuta, and Ten had died at your expense. The feelings that plagued you now were simply too much for the human mind to handle. 

Your palms hit the ground, scuffing the asphalt. Your body was limp with defeat. There was no fight in you anymore. He had broken you. 

“You win,” you croaked, surrendering. “Whatever this game is, you fucking win. I can’t do this anymore.”

Haechan beamed, all too excited by those words. “I knew you would come around.” 

Haechan cradled you in his arms and you let him. You had no more strength or will to fight him. He had milked you dry. You only sat there unmoving, wondering where you’d gone wrong. If this could have been avoided or if Haechan destroying your life was merely inevitable.

Pain throttled you, hands clamped bruisingly around your neck. You cried and screamed until it was out of your system and your voice no longer worked. Haechan endeavored to soothe you the whole time, stroking your back. Even your tears were precious to him. He hated to make you cry, but one day you would understand why this needed to happen. 

For now, he had won. You said it yourself. There was a big grin on his face as he claimed victory. 

“There, there. It’s time to go now, babe,” Haechan cooed, lifting you into his arms. He liked that you still instinctively wrapped your arms around your neck, and he stared into your eyes, in love with the beauty within them. “You’re all mine now.”

“I’m yours,” you repeated back quietly, accepting. “All yours.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek. 

[wisteriaiswriting]

Can you do an autistic trans(if you do that) male reader who doesn’t really get social cues but is overall pretty quiet and reserved with the people from the Hazbin hotel?

𝕊𝕚𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝔽𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕝𝕪

Words: 1111

𝔸𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣:

He will be unaware at first, so his first impression about you is not good. Thinks you’re being rude on purpose, but when he finds out that's not the case he’ll feel slightly bad.

For his assumptions he’ll subtly apologize by dropping presents in your room (Unnamed of course.) and lending you a helping hand.

If you two become close he will take you to his tailor to get matching suits, different colours obviously, can’t have you taking his signature colour now, can we?

***

For the first few days you’ve been at the hotel Alastor has been weirdly stand offish. Others didn’t mind, often glad he’s staying away rather than closer. But you wanted to know why, so you asked Charlie.

Who asked Alastor, to which he gracefully answered.

“Well, I don’t enjoy seeing terrible manners around the hotel, surely you don’t either?” At his words the reason for avoidance clicked in her head.

“Why didn't you say so? Well knowing you, you wouldn’t… But Y/N isn’t that good with social cues, so he doesn’t mean any of, whatever he’s been doing.”

“Oh…” At her words he left the room, finding you. “Well hello my Handsome fellow,”

“Hi?” After his most recent actions you didn’t expect him to just waltz up to you.

“Unfortunately someone has ruined my suit,” Correct, a good chunk was missing. “And hopefully you would accompany me?”

“Sure, I guess?”

“Perfect!”

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕖:

She's unsurprisingly similar when it comes to social cues.

When it comes to you being autistic or trans she won’t notice, that’ll be the last thing she knows.

You two can not be left alone, someone will need to supervise you both.

***

It has been barely a week since you fell into hell and it’s been terrible. There were too many things happen that you could say or even recall, so today was meant to be relaxing. Or at least somewhat close, until someone pulled you around.

They were your only friend here, so of course you had to follow. After a few hours walking around you found you both in front of a hotel, one called the ‘Hazbin hotel.’ Excitedly knocking at the door while you watched.

Within seconds the door swung open revealing an excited blonde.

“Oh my, hi!” Pulling you both in as she spoke, which allowed you to see other people hanging around. “I’m Charlie, and welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

“Told ya you’d like it here.”

You were both aware nothing was said beforehand but you didn’t confront them. Seemed like the others knew something was up, so they had Charlie pull you away.

“Since you're new, how about a private tour of the Hazbin Hotel?”

𝕍𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕖:

Compared to the other hotel residents your quietness is a surprise, but a welcome one at that.

If you ask or signal at all to her she’ll be at your side to subtly help you with social cues and anything else needed.

Especially if you’re new (Also if not) she’ll help you get masculine clothing, although she might have to get others help as she isn’t the most masculine either.

***

Charlie had just brought you to the hotel in a… not so good condition. She wasn’t sure what you went through to look like that but she knew you needed some help, and she was going to help where she could.

“Alastor, I need your help”

“Hmm?”

“You know the newbie, I have to get him some clothes. Problem is I have no clue where to go.” At her words his smile increases slightly.

“I could help, for a price…”

“Nevermind.”

While she wanted to help she wouldn’t risk anything with Alastor, maybe Angel would be better.

𝔸𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝 𝔻𝕦𝕤𝕥:

He’s seen some shit during his time down in hell, so your actions and attitude isn’t seen as weird to him.

To a degree he’ll take advantage of you. Never anything you wouldn’t want, but to keep him safe from Vaggie or Alastor.

But only he can do it, if anyone else even tries he’ll be there to protect you.

***

“Vaggie, why would I do that?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe you–”

“Doesn’t matter, I would never when Y/N is with me!”

At his words Vaggie looked down at you, finding you wrapped in Angels pairs of arms. You had a few blooming bruises around your face but otherwise seemed alright.

“Just… Don’t do it again, I don’t want to see Y/N or Charlie get mad at you.”

“Really, Y/N mad at me? Never!” One pair of hands had come up to cup your cheeks, able to leave multiple kisses. Causing Vaggie to leave quickly.

“Now, let me take care of those bruises.”

𝕊𝕚𝕣 ℙ𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤:

He’s been thrown into the same boat as you, has absolutely no understanding of social cues.

If anything the eggs make it worse, as they are somehow worse than sir pentious.

He has accidentally hurt the both of you at once somehow, no one is sure how that happened.

***

The streets didn’t seem too busy, which was weird for hell. But it might’ve been the fact you and Sir Pentious just weren’t aware of them walking. His tail was swaying dangerously behind him, knocking over any people.

During this his eggs were scattered around the both of you. Some stayed behind, in between and some strayed next to you. Which caused an even bigger barrier to form, now people had to step off the path.

ℍ𝕦𝕤𝕜:

When he first meets you he won’t really care, he’s had worst people hang around.

If he’s being honest he understands and gets social cues, but majority of the time he just doesn’t care about them.

Even then he knows with your lack of awareness you’re likely to get into some unwanted trouble, so he hangs around a lot more.

***

Husk never had the heart to blame you for any trouble, he knew you never meant it. So tonight he accompanied you to a nearby bar, intending for at least a semi-nice night out. But of course someone had to ruin it.

A drunk demon decided he wanted to bother you for the night, ignoring Husk the whole time. But over time his anger rose, you weren’t even looking at him and you didn’t seem interested.

In which you weren’t, but he seemed so incessant that you spoke, even if you didn’t. His attitude quickly became clear very quickly, except you didn’t notice. As he reached for you Husk was quicker, sending a card flying into his head.

That caused everyone to start their own fights. Which gave you two the chance to leave, with minimal injuries of course. Taking the chance you both ran out, luckily no one else was waiting outside.

“We’re going back.”

[vexis-world]

“You can't seriously be that dumb..!”

💗 Clarisse la rue x daughter of Apollo!reader one-shot 💗

Authors note: hi reader!! This is my first fan-fiction post so I'd love any constructive criticism to help improve my writing for the future! This is not beta read so it's far from perfect - but I hope you will still enjoy it nonetheless :)) Ty for reading! 🫶

Short summary: Clarisse has some doubts about your "relationship" and seeks you out to speak about her worries.

Word count: 940ish words!

Clarisse’s mind was swarming with thoughts; it always does when she trains alone. She thinks best in the training arena, it's in her blood after all. You and her had been in a relationship for almost 3 months now and hadn't kissed yet. Which isn't a big deal! Clarisse doesn't mind, at least that's what she tells herself. But this is her first relationship, and she doesn't have anyone to unload this onto. To ask advice without having to reveal too much about herself, and her most private fears. She knew that you wanted to take things slow. Although it was not confirmed by words, Clarisse could (in her opinion) read her ‘girlfriend’ well. However when was slow, too slow? Were you having mixed feelings all of a sudden? And if so why had this not been brought up? Clarisse believed that you two were close, as ones in a romantic partnership should be; but perhaps not as close as she had originally thought.

Clarisse took large and fast steps, speed walking over to you. People moved out of her way, they could tell it was urgent and that they shouldn't mess with Clarisse at this moment. Or any moment for that matter.

“Hey Clarisse!” you spoke enthusiastically, finishing up a patient in the infirmary. “Pretty girl, explain something to me.” Clarisse's words make you blush, faintly; you had mainly gotten used to her flirty remarks these past few weeks, but she always manages to catch you off guard, every once in a while. “Ok.. what's up?” you asked, in a nervous tone. You could clearly see the distressed look on the girls face. “It's sort of private, can we speak in the back?” this added to your nerves, clarisse was usually never this off. “Of course, is everything okay?” but before you could finish your sentence, clarisse had already walked over to the back of the infirmary and into the supply area.

The supply closet was cramped with the both of you in there. Clarisse had to push up against you with an arm over your head for you two to fit somewhat comfortably. “Clarisse, is everything okay?” you asked again, this time hoping you would get a straight forward reply. “Do you.. Have you um..” clarisse stuttered avoiding your concerned gaze. “Have you lost feelings for me or something?” she finally mutters. You spent a minute gathering up your words, to find a way to reply. You bit your lip with furrowed brows, before the words fully processed and then said. “What..?” Clarisse had a strange expression on her face. “It's been three months and we haven't kissed or held hands in public. We don't go on proper dates. I feel like you don’t like me” she says quickly with an eye-roll included. “Clarisse, what are you on about..? Why would we kiss?” you asked hesitantly. “Why wouldn't you? Were in a relationship, isn't that kinda the norm?” This left you frozen. You were shocked, obviously but also majorly embarrassed. Had you been in a relationship without even knowing it? And to your crush no less. Fuck. “.. relationship?” you said nauseously, with butterflies in your stomach. “Clarisse, is this some sort of sick joke..?” you added, with shallow breaths. The room was getting stuffy and suffocating. “What do you mean sick joke? Have I ever lied to you? Are my feelings a joke to you? Is that it? Forget it. If I make you this fucking sick then good thing you're in the infirmary. I'm leaving, let's not talk for a while, 'kay?” she pushes past you. since you two were practically melted into one another, you could feel how she'd gotten warmer and how her heart rate had gone up significantly. You try to go after her but just as you do, your brother, Will asks you to tend to another patient that had just come in. He calls over his shoulder. “trouble in paradise? Gonna have to wait, I'm afraid - I need some help over here!” leaving you even more puzzled.

An hour or two goes by since you spoke with clarisse, and she’s consumed your thoughts entirely. You decided to speak to her at dinner and try to resolve whatever happened earlier.

“Clarisse, can we talk? Again..” you whispered, almost begging. “Kinda busy. We’ll talk later.” clarisse brushes you off to finish scraping her offerings into the fire. “Please clarisse. I need to speak to you. Just for a second.” you plead. “Two minutes. Two, that's it.” clarisse says, her eyes finally looking up from fire to the now very interesting sky. “Thank you.” You sigh and lead her away to a more secluded area as she had done with you. “I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. And they're not a joke to me. I'm just confused. What did you mean by relationship?” Clarisse replies by saying “what do you mean, what do i mean? We're dating, aren't we?” you take a pause, dumbfounded for the second time today. “Since when? Don't take this the wrong way but.. I don't remember you asking me to be your.. Um.. girlfriend.” your voice is wobbly and uncertain, you try your best to make your words seem kinder, as to not offend clarisse again. “Well, I guess I never asked but.. Oh.” Clarisse's words end as she parts her lips. She's realised her error. And so had you. You let out a breathy chuckle and say “maybe this time you should actually ask me.'' Clarisse looks at you with much more confidence now, her infamous sly grin back on her perfect face. “Maybe that would be best, sweet girl.”

[de4dlyniightshade]

꩜ EVERY MAN GETS HIS WISH

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: +18, mdni

꩜ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: smut, perv!sub!spencer, softdom!reader, underwear stealing/sniffing, mommy kink, male masturbation, handjob, voyeurism, exhibitionism, hint of degrading, praise, dacryphilia, overstimulation.

꩜ PROMPT: this ask!

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts.

[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!

꩜ A/N: kinda hate this but a few people said they wanted a perv!spence fic so here it is!(although short and mid)

Spencer was a smart boy, obviously, but sometimes he could just be so naive. I mean, come on, you didn't just leave your used underwear in his apartment by accident. Well, actually, the first time was completely accidental, but when you used the bathroom a few days later and saw the exact same pair in his laundry basket, a familiar staining on the delicate fabric, you knew exactly what he did with them, so you decided to make it a little habit to leave your underwear for him as a treat.

This was one of those times. You had stayed the night before, showering in the morning and leaving your lacy underwear that you wore specifically with the intention of leaving them on the floor of his bathroom, an irresistible trap that he simply couldn't pass up, waiting for you to leave to spend the day with Penelope so he could snatch them up, retreating to his bedroom and tugging his pyjama pants down, settling on the edge of the bed.

He always felt guilty doing this, but he just couldn't help himself. He was always so shy around you, so flustered and bashful all the time, hardly ever initiating anything with you, let alone outright asking you to do things to him when he needed you, so this was the next best thing in his mind. It wasn't logical, but it didn't have to be to anyone but him.

Spencer let out a shaky breath as he slowly wrapped your underwear around his shaft, whining as he stroked upwards to his tip, the slightly rough material of the lace making his cock throb, whimpering at the familiar sensation.

He let his eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back and his jaw falling slack, whimpers and moans spilling from his lips as he stroked himself with your used underwear. The whole thing was so perverted and wrong, and he knew it, but he just couldn't stop himself. No matter how hard he tried to tell himself not to, he just couldn't.

"o-oh p-please…" He moaned to nobody, his thighs trembling slightly as he ran his thumb over his tip through the material, moaning out your name as he did and pressing his lips together as he whimpered pathetically.

His breathing picked up, coming out in gasps and pants as he stroked himself faster, his back arching as his mind went numb, imagining you touching him, your body on top of his, your hand wrapped beautifully around his cock, your lips on his neck, hands on his body, words in his ear, you. all of you, his head swimming with nothing but you, so much so that he didn't hear the front door open or your footsteps coming closer and closer to his room.

You had never actually planned to hang out with Penelope today; it was all a ruse to catch him in the act. You wanted to know exactly what he was doing with your underwear, even though you already knew he was jerking off into them, but you wanted to see it—to catch him cumming into your underwear like a pervert.

You couldn't help but smirk to yourself as you heard him on the other side of the door already. It had only been about five minutes since you left, and he was already whimpering and moaning desperately, hearing your name fall from his lips, his voice high-pitched and airy.

As if it were staged, his door was left ajar, just enough for you to peek in without being seen, and you couldn't resist, holding your breath as you peered through the gap, clenching around nothing at what you saw. Your beautiful, sweet boy is fucking his own fist with your dirty underwear and moaning your name.

You stood and enjoyed the sight for a moment, drinking in the opportunity to watch him without his knowledge, seeing him so brazen, not holding himself back as he usually does around you.

Once you were satisfied watching him, you slowly and silently pushed the door open, leaning on the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest and smirking at him.

"Naughty boy," you tutted, shaking your head in feigned disappointment, Spencer gasping, eyes wide and alarmed as his head snapped to look over to the sound of your voice, quickly tugging down his t-shirt to cover what he was doing, cheeks flushed cherry red.

"I-i- you- y-you were- when- i-" he stuttered, scrambling to get anything out and failing completely, the words getting caught in his throat at the sight of you, a smug look on your face, and then he knew, he knew he was caught.

"I-I'm sorry," he whimpered, looking away from you as tears sprung from his eyes, completely humiliated. The thought of you being disgusted with him made his stomach churn with worry.

"Oh, sweet boy, no need to be sorry; you just couldn't help yourself, right?" You honeyed, slowly stalking towards him, revelling in the way he gulped, averting your gaze, and nervously shifting where he sat before he nodded shakily.

"Aw, pretty little thing, show mommy," you husked, taking his chin into your fingertips and turning his face to look at you, him gazing up at you through his lashes with wide eyes, his cheeks flushing impossibly darker as he let out a shaky breath, wetting his lips as he nodded, hesitantly lifting his shirt to expose himself to you, the sight of your underwear wrapped around his painfully hard, leaking cock almost making you moan, instead pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Oh my...so pretty, baby," you murmured, cupping his face and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone, Spencer whining at your praise, averting your gaze nervously, feeling shy at the whole situation.

"Go on then, don't let me stop you," you murmured, smiling sweetly at him as he turned his face away from you, whining softly and letting out a shaky breath, swallowing thickly as he pressed his thighs together.

"I said go on," you reiterated, quirking a brow at him with a knowing look on your face, watching as his eyes darted around the room before he hesitantly moved to take your underwear into his hand, lifting them off his shaft before you gripped his wrist to stop him.

"No, no, I want to see you cum all over mommy's panties," you smirked, lowering yourself to be eye level with him, fighting a smile at the way he gulped, breathing shakily. He just looked so precious that you couldn't resist surging forward to lock your lips with his, the sudden action making Spencer gasp into your mouth before he let his eyes close, moaning softly against your lips.

The kiss was short-lived as you pulled away, tugging on his bottom lip as you did just to tease him, the feeling of your teeth grazing his plush, soft lip making him let out a needy whine, his eyes fluttering open to see you staring right back into them.

You smiled sweetly as you leaned in to press your lips ever so gently to his ear. "Now, touch yourself for mommy, and maybe you'll get a reward," you whispered, running the tip of your tongue over the shell of his ear before pulling away, taking a few steps back for the best view of him.

"Y-Yes, mommy," he breathed, slowly wrapping his hand around his shaft once again, swallowing thickly as he stroked upwards, pressing his lips together to keep himself quiet as he circled his palm over his sensitive tip, the material of your underwear dampening with precum.

"Good boy," you praised softly, the feeling of having complete power over him making your head swim with the possibilities of what else you could make him do with just a simple kiss and some words of praise, the smallest thing making him completely pliant, bending to your will in any way you desired.

Spencer whined loudly, stopping his movements and turning his cheek to you in embarrassment. "I-I can't when you're looking," he pouted, letting out a disapproving huff.

"I have to do everything for you, y'know that?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes dramatically as you quickly moved to stand between his spread thighs, confusion on his flushed face before you placed your hand on his chest, roughly pushing him back to lay down, your change in demeanour making him let out a gasp that turned into a loud whimper when you wrapped your hand around his tip and squeezed, not too hard that it hurt but hard enough that his body twitched, his back arching and thighs trembling.

"Sit still," you warned, a domineering tone in your voice, your darkened eyes shooting up to glare into his wide ones, watching him nod quickly, a sadistic smile tugging at your lips as you began pumping his needy cock, quiet gasps and whimpers slipping past his lips at your touch.

You set a brutal pace immediately, stroking him from base to tip with your own underwear. The added stimulation of the lace only enhanced the pleasure, but he was just so sensitive that he could hardly form a single word, already fucked out and desperate to cum after barely a minute. You always adored how reactive he was to your touch, always whimpering so cutely, his pretty porcelain thighs twitching and tensing, his back arching towards you, and his hips rutting into you, whether it was your cunt, your mouth, or your fist, like now.

"o-oh mommy! p-please!" He moaned loudly, panting and writhing as you towered over him, fist-fucking his cock at a pace you knew would make him act this way. "I said sit still," you reminded him, huffing as you placed your free hand on his tensed stomach, pinning him to the bed to stop him from moving so much.

"S-sorry, 'm sorry, j-just so s-sensitive, mommy," he whimpered pathetically, tears spilling from the outer corners of his eyes, streaking his temples and into his hair. The sight of him so wrecked and fucked out already made you clench around nothing, your underwear sticking to you awkwardly.

"You wanna cum baby boy?" You asked in such a sickeningly sweet tone, a complete contrast to the way you were practically torturing him, purposefully overstimulating him. It wasn't like it was hard to do so; his cock was always sensitive to you.

"y-yes! Wanna cum, mommy!" He gasped, rutting his leaking cock into your fist that was wrapped around his tip, focusing on his most sensitive point just to see him tremble and hear his pitiful sounds.

"Admit you're a dirty boy; tell mommy how much of a dirty little pervert you are," you teased, a cheshire grin pulling at your lips as he gasped and whimpered desperately, tears flowing from his eyes, which were squeezed shut, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides as he thrust his cock into your hand, which you had stopped moving completely, just watching him fuck your panties to get himself off.

"Mommy's d-dirty boy! 'm your dirty boy!" He gasped, his voice whiny and pathetic, saying anything you'd tell him to as long as you'd let him cum, completely cumdrunk and desperate, a mess to your touch.

"Such a good boy," you praised, moving your hand once again to stroke his length, the head red and swollen. So desperate for release, how could you say no?

"m-mommy! c-can't-mmph 'm gonna c-cum, mommy!" Spencer cried, his body writhing, trying to squirm away from you against his will, completely overwhelmed and overstimulated, turning to bury his face into the sheet as you moved to hold him down by his hip, only stroking him faster and harder.

"Cum for mommy, baby, that's it," you husked, the sound of him sobbing and whimpering, muffled by the sheets, making you bite down on your bottom lip. He was the perfect submissive, completely compliant and obedient to you, always so good, so eager to please his mommy.

"m-momma! i-" He cried, cutting himself off with a choked sob as he came hard, his release spilling down your hand and onto your underwear as well as spurting all over his shirt, making a complete mess of himself.

"So good, baby, you did so well for mommy," you praised sweetly, slowly stroking him through his orgasm as pleasure wracked his body, twitching and trembling as he whimpered quietly and pitifully into the sheets.

"I-I can't, mommy, 's too much," Spencer whined, squirming away from you as you decided he'd had enough after briefly contemplating forcing another orgasm out of him, but the way he was gasping for breath, splayed out so beautifully fucked out under you, made you decide not to. Instead,  you shifted to rest your knees on either side of his hips, leaning down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

He returned the kiss lazily and out of rhythm, so exhausted and hazy from his high that he could hardly keep up with you. "Want mommy to clean you up, baby? How's a nice bath sound, hm?" You spoke soothingly and quietly as you pulled away, stroking your thumb over his smooth cheek.

"Yes, please," he croaked, his voice completely spent and raspy from all the noise he'd been making, and you couldn't help but coo at him, pouting out your lip and looking at him with big doe eyes, quickly pressing a kiss to each of his flushed cheeks and then his lips before pulling away, standing up from the bed to run him a warm bath, but not before you tucked your hands under your skirt to tug down your underwear, Spencer not noticing what you were doing as he laid with his eyes closed.

You bit down on your lip teasingly as you resisted laughing at your own devious plan, untangling your underwear from your ankles before gently tossing them. The flimsy material landed perfectly on Spencer's face, startling and confusing him as he lifted the material. "They're a bit wet, but you like 'em used," you teased, smiling devilishly at him as he blushed a deep pink, still clutching the soiled material in his hand as you turned on your heels to leave the room, and he just couldn't resist bringing them back to his face, inhaling your scent like the pervert he is.

@cancersunthatsit @mindfullycriminal @teachugger69 @queermaxwooo @olives-and-sunshine @ac0511 @reidsdaisies @iluvreid @unimportantweirdo @criminalmindswife

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