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#but i might be to afraid of the possibility that i will be told that im not good enoug
youandiwerealive · 2 days
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Só quero ir para casa, para ti [rd]
Author’s note: my best friend described this as “disgustingly cute”, so here you have some cute dad!Rúben to compensate for the last one 🫣 thank you to the anon who requested this, hope you enjoy it! Mwah mwah
wc: 1601- English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated
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Rúben absolutely hates being far from you, especially now that you’re pregnant with your second baby.
He is currently in Abu Dhabi with the team, preparing the upcoming season. Not only is he 4 hours ahead in the clock, he is also full of trainings and recovery sessions - leaving him so little time to talk to you.
You are now five months pregnant and your baby is starting to kick and move like crazy inside of you. You try your best to show everything to Rúben, not wanting him to feel left out for losing all these special moments. But, you both agree that video calls might help a bit to ease the sadness of being away from each other, but those minutes don’t really make up from all the time that Rúben spends without his wife, daughter and son.
Every time he looks at you through his phone screen, he can’t help but think how beautiful you look, the pregnancy glow really showing again - more and more each day now. He misses you like crazy, even just a couple of hours would already be too much time away from you and your family, but spending weeks so far is killing him already.
He especially misses sleeping next to your belly, wanting to feel as close to his boy as possible, while Matilde is wrapped strongly in his arms. He misses the way you would laugh when he peppered your belly with kisses. He misses talking to his children - having full conversations about every thing and anything at the same time, really. Always promising his entire love and dedication to the other love of his life, his baby - Dinis.
Rúben has been sad lately, thinking non-stop about all the times you call him, or send him videos of his son moving inside your belly. He hasn’t felt it yet. Every single time the baby decides to move, he’s not around, and when he is, Dinis decides to keep quiet.
“Maybe he is just shy. He’ll move for you when he feels like it, we can’t rush these things” - you would always say to him, trying to get a bit of all the guilt Rúben held upon his shoulders to go away. Why wouldn’t the light of his life kick for him? He even smiled at the first time you told him in between laughs ‘he’s not kicking because he’s afraid that you’ll tackle him’. Yeah, jokes about him being a footballer and his son not kicking around him.
But lately he has been feeling down, his mind thinking about that all the time. What if his baby gets here and doesn’t feel comfortable enough around him? He would always move to the sound of her mom’s voice, but not to his. Matilde was a very active baby, always moving and kicking to the sound of her dad’s voice - totally a daddy’s girl, still today being always glued to him, playing him with, sleeping with him, cuddling with him.
Either way, Rúben is tired, missing you, his princess and his baby. You are video chatting once again, him seeing how his boy’s tiny feet would mark your belly and talking to his princess, Matilde. He tries to smile, glad to see his baby moving once again, even if he’s not there to feel the sensation.
You can sense that he is a little down, but you try to shrug it off since he said he was feeling tired and sleepy.
“Tenho tantas saudades vossas” (I miss you so much) - he says lowly, like his voice is threatening to start shaking if he speaks any louder.
You smile, understanding why he is so down. “We miss you too” - you say to your husband, noticing how his face falls.
However, the voice of his angel on earth brings a smile to appear on Rúben’s face. “Volta rápido, papá” (come back soon, daddy) - Matilde says, showing his daddy her newest growing teeth, that has been giving her mommy so much trouble and sleepless nights.
“Eu já só quero ir para casa, para vocês” (I just want to go home, to you) - by the way he is talking portuguese to you, you know he really means it. He takes the value of saudade very seriously, no translation can do that feeling justice.
Rúben goes to sleep with a headache. Maybe he should stop pushing his baby, stop begging him to kick into his hand. Maybe he should go back home with a different mindset. Trying to fight some kind of war with his son really sounds crazy to him, and he kind of hates himself for being so annoyed about something so trivial as that.
When he finally goes home, after so many weeks apart, you and Matilde are waiting home to greet him, you even cooked your daughter’s favourite cake - she insisted so she could share it with her daddy on their usual tea party, something that has became a tradition between Rúben and her already.
Berny the bunny and Johnny the bear are patiently waiting on the three year old girl’s lap for her most important guest to arrive - the little girl anxiously setting every thing up.
When you hear the door handle click open, Matilde immediately runs to the door.
“Papá, papá! You’re home!” - she girl screams as Rúben immediately picks her up and wraps her on his arms, taking in the wonderful and unmistakable scent of his daughter, breathing deeply and hugging her tightly, scared that she would run away if he puts her down - but she would never run away, she loves her daddy more than anything in this world, his embrace is her favourite place to be. The little girl wraps her tiny arms around her daddy’s neck even tighter, telling him how much she loves him and how much she missed him every day that he was away.
That alone made some tears appear in Rúben’s eyes, walking with his princess still in his arms, going to greet you with a passionate kiss, missing you like death. His hand instinctively goes to your belly - nothing happened. But Rúben is not going to worry about that anymore. He has his family by his side again, and that’s all that matters to him.
After the tea party with Matilde and a small family dinner, the little girl was already fast asleep on her father’s chest - never letting go of him since he arrived, and Rúben silently thanked her for that, really in need to feel his light near him as well, begging her to illuminate him a little more. Which she does, all the time, even if she doesn’t realise it. Rúben is already feeling lighter, being home near you and his babies helping him a lot with his mood.
After putting your sleepy daughter in her room, you and Rúben finally have some time to yourselves. He immediately wraps you in his arms, cuddling you close to him, hugging you and kissing your neck, face, shoulder, anywhere he could reach.
“Amo-te tanto” (I love you so much) - Rúben softly speaks in your ear, making your heart tingle like it’s the first time he is saying those words to you.
“We love you too” - you smile as you grab his hands that were already touching your belly, massaging your baby boy now.
Rúben smiles and tries his best to not think about the kicking topic.
“Is my boy behaving? Hope you’re not giving mommy much trouble already” - he speaks softly to his son, with a smile on his face.
When those words leave his mouth, Rúben’s hand feels a light kick. His face shows a shocked expression, not really believing what’s happening.
“What was this? This wasn’t a kick, right?” - he asks you, his mouth still agape at the feeling. You laugh at his reaction.
“Yes, it’s a kick, babe. Our son is answering your question” - you kiss the shock out of his face.
“Are you, filho? Are you answering daddy?” - Rúben keeps talking to the baby, hoping that he would keep kicking, amazed at the feeling of his baby’s kick for the first time.
Dinis kicks two more times, harder now at the sound of his dad’s voice, and Rúben’s eyes are full of tears, all the emotion and happiness falling down his face already.
“I can’t believe he’s finally kicking to me” - he says, more to himself.
“He loves you so much, never doubt that” - you reassure him.
“Oh god, I love you so much, Dinis. Dad will always be by your side, to play football with you, to teach you everything about space and astronauts, to take care of you and lead you the way” - he confesses while hugging you tightly now.
Rúben knows how badly you wanted this to happen, just as much as him. And he’s not a religious man, but it’s like he could feel all your prayers on him now, feeling such a powerful love wrapping your hearts, feeling extremely grateful for you, for being such a supportive wife and for bringing to life his biggest dream, the biggest loves of his life, his babies.
When you’re together, everything feels better to him, he’s only happy when he is holding his wife and daughter strongly in his arm - and now you are preparing your family for another beautiful adventure, almost welcoming your baby boy into this world - soon to be Rúben and Matilde’s best friend.
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feybarn · 3 days
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And I return with some ghost Obi. Thanks @queenaelinwildfire!
Spinning off of Sparky, ghost Obi haunting Jango Ooo bonus points if it’s smol obi wan
When the boy first appeared, Jango had been sure it’d been the spice. Hallucinations were hardly new and the young boy who stared at him with frightened eyes was hardly the strangest thing he saw. In fact, the boy who whispered warnings about when the slavers were coming, and told him that Neeva—the young togruta girl a few slaves down—was dying, and told him stories about men in white armor who died forgotten heroes, was perhaps the kindest hallucination that Jango experienced.
Except the boy didn’t go away. Not when Jango killed the slavers. Not when Jango detoxed. Not when Jango left behind all but the scars of his time with the slavers.
Jango hadn’t quite believed in ghosts before, but he had no other explanation for the boy that followed him unerringly from the slavers’ ship to Concord Dawn to the ugly, worn down ship he eventually acquired.
“You have a reason for haunting me, kid?” he asked.
The boy frowned. His hand came to his neck where a collar rested.
Jango had tried not to think about that particular accessory too much.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I… I don’t remember how I got here.”
Jango was going to guess that the answer included ‘dying’. “You need help moving on?” Jango asked. Though he had no idea how he would help some ghost move on. Jaster would have, though.
Jango blocked out the thought.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted. “I don’t think so. I think I’m here for a reason.”
Great. A reason. That explained so much. “What’s your name?”
The boy’s brow furrowed. “I… I don’t know.” The boy sounded alarmed, as though he’d just realized he didn’t have a name.
Well, there went trying to track down where the boy had come from. All Jango had to go on was the rough mining clothes the boy was wearing, several sizes too large for him, and the collar around his neck.
Mining colonies weren’t exactly sparse in this galaxy. Even narrowing it down to mining colonies that used slavery didn’t help.
The Republic might claim that slavery was outlawed, but that didn’t mean much, Jango had discovered.
“Do you have a name you want me to call you?” Jango asked, because while Jango could keep calling him ‘the boy’ it seemed…
Wrong.
If Myles were here, Myles would have already named the kid. It’d probably have been something meaningful and well thought out.
If Silas were here, he’d have helped the kid come up with a name on his own. He’d have turned it into a game, until the kid didn’t even remember he was upset.
If Jaster were here…
Jango tried not to think about what Jaster would have done.
The boy frowned and Jango could tell he was thinking. “Obi,” the boy said finally. “I think… I think I like Obi.” 
“Obi,” Jango agreed. He wondered if it was the kid’s actual name, hidden in the depths of his mind. “You going to keep following me around?”
Obi tilted his head. “I think so. I don’t want you to be alone.” Obi’s gaze was piercing. “Are you going to go home?” he asked. “Now that you’re free?”
Jango swallowed. “I don’t have a home to go to.”
Obi’s eyes echoed with a terrible sadness. “You’re afraid.”
Jango closed his eyes. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said, words coming out short. 
“Sometimes I dream I can’t go home either,” Obi whispered. “In the dream, I want the desert sands to strip me to my bones.”
Jango flinched, but added the piece of information to the possibility of where Obi had come from. Though, there were a spare few mining colonies on desert planets. The combination was rarely conducive to the most valuable of mining operations.
“It’s not the same kid.”
Obi stared at him. “I think they’d want you to come back.” His hand rubbed at the metal collar around his neck again. “Wherever home is. They… they probably miss you.”
Jango scoffed. He’d gotten so many of their people killed, the ones that remained could hardly want him back. “Not likely, kid.”
“In my dreams, they died because of me,” Obi whispered.
Apparently being a ghost made the kid telepathic. Jango was not a fan. But it was… it was a kid, a dead kid. Jango didn’t have the heart to try to get rid of him, unless it was to bring him home.
“Just a dream, kid.”
Obi looked away. “What if it’s not? Do… do we never get to go home?”
Jango sighed. “Come on, let me teach you how to navigate in and out of hyperspace.” He’d noticed that the kid looked like he enjoyed watching Jango in the cockpit. Sure, the kid would never need the skills himself, being dead and all, but Jango didn’t know what else to do with the dead kid that was stuck with Jango.
Obi nodded, following Jango back to the cockpit. It was the end of the conversation.
Or it should have been. 
The question haunted Jango as the months passed. Would he ever get to go home? With the sins that weighed so heavy on his shoulders? It’d been years. Years as a slave and now nearly a year free.
He looked at Obi, who hadn’t aged since the day he’d found Jango in the hull of the slave ship. Just a kid. Always a kid. A dead kid that couldn’t go home. Whose closest thing to home was Jango and Jango’s ship.
Jango had been determined not to think of it, of what he’d lost, of what was gone, of what he could never allow himself to have again.
Do we never get to go home?
Was that why the kid was stuck as a ghost? Had he told himself he was never allowed to go home? Had he trapped himself in some sort of eternal punishment.
Jango had never heard of it happening before, but he wasn’t a scholar, and this universe was full of things stranger than Jango could believe.
Do we never get to go home?
Was that why the kid had found him? Because he saw Jango’s punishment as his own?
Because this life Jango lived now, constantly chasing the next bounty, with nothing but a ghost at his side… was it a life? Was Jango just as much a ghost as the dead kid that haunted him.
“Where are we going next?” Obi asked when the next hunt finished.
Jango stared at the controls on the cockpit’s dashboard.
Do we never get to go home?
Did he? 
The kid needed a home. Jango… Jango couldn’t give him the one he’d been taken from. But…
“Concord Dawn,” he said.
“Where’s that?” Obi asked. “Is there a hunt there?”
Jango shook his head. “No, kid. We’re going home.”
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happilysmythe · 2 days
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❥ 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙮𝙤𝙪
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trent frederic.
word count: 1.6k
no warnings
"i think i wanna marry you" — bruno mars
A/N: requested by the showstopping @ahockeywrites — a soft trent fic including a picnic and possibly a proposal, so here i am to deliver. thank u pookie and i hope everyone enjoys this short n sweet trent blurb to hold you over! happy reading :)
- - -
Not a day went by where Trent wasn’t heckled by his teammates, formers, buddies, and even family members for how positively whipped he was for you. And although he hated it on the outside, he wasn’t afraid to show it behind closed doors.
The man loved you—he’d never deny that.
You and Trent had been dancing around the idea of marriage for months. You’d been together for almost three years. It was only natural that the subject would eventually come about. The two of you, however, had received a plethora of comments from your peers about it but never discussed it on your own. At least, not nearly to the extent that you needed to.
You finally made the move from St. Louis to Boston nearly a year prior, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that the other wives and girlfriends began pressing you about it. 
“So you’ve still never once talked about it,” Kiley, your best friend, would say.
And the others would give you mixtures of “Why not?” and “Aren’t you going to?”, usually to no avail.
You’d often mention the interactions to Trent, and he’d typically wave them off, telling you that they were simply being pests. He’d tell you to ignore them. But the last few times you’d mentioned it to him, he’d smile, sometimes letting out a laugh, and even sometimes tell you it was “nice” or “cute”, much to your confusion.
That being said, you really didn’t put as much thought into it as you probably should of.
Because Trent was subtly trying to hint to you that he had other plans; that he might have started to take the girls’ advice.
“How about a picnic?” he suggested, his finger twirling a strand of your hair around as your head comfortably rested in his lap, legs sprawled across the couch cushions. You’d been debating with him on what you wanted to do that night, as he’d just gotten home from a road trip with the team the day prior. “The weather should be nice.”
Your eyes lit up at the idea, teeth on display as you smiled up at him. “That actually sounds great.”
“Well, then.”
“Great. Then it’s settled—we’ll have a picnic,” you sat up, palm flat on the cushion as your arm supported your weight.
“You packing?” he teased.
You rolled your eyes and shook your head, giggling softly as you stood up. “Yes. I am. Because I don’t particularly trust you,” you told him, walking into the kitchen. “But only because of that.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” he shouted from the couch.
You whipped up a few sandwiches and stored them neatly in a basket, followed by the remainder of the strawberries you had in your fridge and a few other snacks. You put some napkins and drinks inside, then folded a blanket over the food and shut the basket, leaving it on the kitchen counter to grab when you left.
Then, you got ready, slipping on a pink and white floral-patterned babydoll dress and sandals. You matched a white bow to the white in the dress and clipped it into your hair, then picked out a few pieces of jewelry to top it off. You’d just gotten your nails done a few days before, courtesy of Kiley, and you decided on a French manicure that ultimately tied the look together, in your not-so-humble opinion.
You waited by the door for Trent, basket in hand as you scrolled through your phone, then looked up when you heard his footsteps coming toward you.
“Wow,” he nodded, stopping in front of you. “Outdid yourself, eh?”
“Well, if I’m going to go on a spring picnic. I might as well look the part, right?” you noted, stepping up to him and planting a kiss on the tip of his nose. “And besides—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear a white polo with…Khakis.”
He looked around the room bashfully, a guilty expression lining his face. “Well,” he shrugged, lips pressing into a flat line. “I guess you’re right.”
You giggled and gently kissed him once more, and then the two of you set off.
You decided on a quaint, meadowy area that sat just near a local river, which ultimately was the perfect location for your little outing. He and you sat atop the blanket, basking in the sunlight as you ate. 
“You have chocolate on your face,” you giggled, bringing your thumb up to the corner of his mouth and carefully wiping it. You licked it off and dried your thumb with a napkin, taking notice of how Trent’s eyes seemed to be completely trained on you.
“What?”
“Nothing, just,” he paused, taking a breath. “You look really pretty.”
A smile spread across your face as your head tilted to the side at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you,” you bashfully replied.
“Mhm.”
“I think the sun’s about to set,” you noted, wiping your lips with the same napkin and setting it back down on the blanket. He and you finally finished your food, and you turned to face him.
“You wanna watch it?” he asked.
You nodded in response and he moved the basket to the side, lying on his back and extending his arm out. You nuzzled into him, resting your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around your waist, letting his hand rest flat on your hip.
You sighed gently, letting your eyes close for just a moment as you relaxed into him. There you sat for the next ten minutes, the two of you not speaking a word as you watched the sunset hit its peak. It was then that he finally spoke, catching your attention immediately.
“Hey,” he cooed, looking down as you sat up slightly and turned to face him.
“Hm?”
“You mind if we stand up for a second?”
“Sure,” you shrugged, then rose to your feet, looking up at him as he stood in front of you. “What is it?”
He took your hands in his, rubbing the backs gently with his thumbs, then took a deep breath.
“Remember the first time you told me about the girls teasing you?”
“Sort of,” you replied confusedly. “Why?”
“You remember what I said?”
“To ignore them?”
“Yeah. And I kept telling you that; that it was stupid, or that they were just being annoying,” he started softly. “But even if they were being completely out of line doing it, they were right. They just didn’t know that I already had my own plans.”
You tilted your head, brows furrowing together as you tried to make sense of what he was saying.
“I’d already made my choice, but I kept shrugging you off because I was scared.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is…I should’ve done this a long time ago.” 
Then it started to come to you, everything slowly beginning to piece itself together in your head. For the past few weeks, you’d received less heckling from Kiley and the others. Of course, you didn’t think anything of it before. Then, she took you to get your nails done out of the blue. And later that day, she took you shopping for the exact dress you were wearing. Because she knew.
And when Trent got down on one knee, you knew, too.
You gasped quietly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box, holding it with one hand, the other still holding one of yours.
“I bought this a month after you moved in,” he finally spoke, holding it up. “I’ve just been trying to figure out when and how to do this.”
“Oh—oh my god.”
He took another deep, long breath. “I love you. So much. And there’s nobody I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So…” He spoke your name softly, prying the box open with his hand to reveal the diamond ring inside.
“Will you marry me?”
Tears pricked at your eyes, your free hand covering your mouth as you finally processed it all. He was doing exactly what you thought he wasn’t going to do anytime soon. And only a few moments passed before you were nodding your head sharply as your hand fell down to your side.
“Yes,” you replied with conviction.
So he took the ring from its resting place and raised your hand, slipping it snugly onto your finger, marveling at how perfectly it fit for just a moment. He tossed the box to the ground and slowly stood up, thumb brushing over the ring on your finger as he held it between you.
You quickly threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. He quickly reciprocated, hoisting you up and holding you tight as your legs wrapped around his waist.
The warm hue of the falling sunset illuminated your surroundings, the scene topped off by the faint noise of crickets as he and you shared one of the most intimate moments of your lives. And he couldn’t have planned it out more perfectly.
A small tear ran down your cheek as you pulled away, smiling gently as you looked down at him. He quickly leaned up and kissed it away. Affection laced his expression when he pulled back to look up at you, unable to contain his smile as he felt the cold surface of your ring grazing the skin on the back of his neck.
“I love you, T,” you whispered to him.
“I love you, too,” he echoed softly, hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear just before adding,
“Mrs. Frederic.”
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oblonger · 2 days
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Chapter 10 of TPiaG: Body Swap AU
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@sincerely-sofie We made it to the double digits! Thank you so much for all your encouragement and nice words! It's what has kept me continuing with this story, despite the first chapter just kinda being a one off thing! I look forward to continuing it!
Dusknoir makes breakfast
"Do not ever forget that." Dusknoir uttered.
Even though he can't see his face, the light from the tail flame let him know exactly how Darkrai felt.
He let go of him, dropping him on the couch.
Dusknoir silently picked up the book he'd been learning Braille with and entered into his room. Quietly shutting the door, so as to not wake Celebi.
Dusknoir stood in front of his door for several moments before quietly slumping against it. His hands were shaking harder than he ever thought possible.
It wasn't her.
It's not her anymore.
That's Darkrai. Not Twig.
You didn't hurt Twig again.
That's not what Twig looks like anymore.
Dusknoir slowly breathed in and out.
He couldn't see Darkrai's face clearly. Even while so close to him.
But even if he looked like a painting had been left out in the rain before it could dry...
He still knew that look. It showed itself clearly in his mind despite his impaired vision.
He regretted intimidating him immediately
And it wasnt because he looked like her.
It was that expression of terror.
He felt he deserved it.
He tortured him and so many others for so long.
But the way his body completely froze when he grabbed him.
The same way that Twig did...
...
Dusknoir remembered how scared and vulnerable he felt whenever he was around Dialga.
He can't help but feel like he's not too different from how he acted.
Dusknoir wanted to apologize. And he didn't want to.
Dusknoir mustered the courage to peek out his door.
Darkrai had already left.
Dusknoir hesitated before he slunk back into his room.
He closed his door, and laid down in his bed.
Dusknoir quickly fell asleep. His thoughts swirled in spirals, chasing each other as he contemplated both throwing Darkrai out into the street, and begging for forgiveness.
~~
Dusknoir awoke before anyone else in the home.
His stomach growled in hunger.
That reminded him of how he heard Darkrai open and shut the pantry last night. Not having eaten anything.
Dusknoir felt... Well, it wasn't pity. Nor was it any kind of compassion. He thinks. He just remembers how difficult it was to have a full stomach so many years ago.
Dusknoir sighed as he rose from his bed. If he was going to feed Celebi and Grovyle, he might as well feed him too.
~
It took much longer than Dusknoir would ever admit to manage to create a rudimentary stir fry. He had to sample several berries to ensure that he was still putting in Rawst berries instead of Yache (Why did they even buy those?). It was only after he garnished them that he'd realized that he'd forgotten to check if those were walnuts and not cashews. And he prayed that the vegetables he cooked were a darker color because of the heat and not because he burned them.
The fact that he couldn't read the recipe book made it worse. He'd practically eaten two small portions by the time he'd finished. Constantly tasting it to make sure it wasn't worse than Celebi's 'cooking'.
Blast this darn eye, if only Kip hadn't-
Dusknoir's fist tightened. He struck down the thought instantly.
It was his fault that his vision was screwed up the way it was.
Not Kip's.
Kip didn't do anything wrong to him.
Not back then, and not now.
...
Dusknoir sighed as he looked out the window.
It was long past dawn.
Dusknoir quietly opened Celebi's door. The room dark after having a wardrobe pushed to sit in front of the window.
"Celebi?" Dusknoir asked. He was afraid he'd squish her if he felt around to find her. It was impossible to see in here.
"Mmgh..." She sleepily growled.
Dusknoir told her that he had made breakfast, but that he needed help.
Celebi eventually obliged, after he promised to let her sleep the rest of the day.
Dusknoir approached Darkrai's door, his plate of food held in one hand.
Celebi looked pretty upset that he'd asked her to unlock the door.
"Why dont you just break the lock?" She asked.
Dusknoir glanced away from her.
"I... I dont believe Twig would appreciate having more of her home destroyed during our stay."
That was a partial reason.
He was still scared of Darkrai.
He feared that opening the door would lead to the Legend that he had carried to the hospital just a week prior.
And given what he said last night...
Celebi quietly unlocked the door with a small screwdriver that was kept atop the doorframe. Putting it in the hole on this side and mumbling grumpily as she fiddled with it.
The door opened and it was just Darkrai. Still in Twig's body...
He had the blanket from last night draped over his back. His neck lay on top of the second blanket. Facing the door.
Dusknoir felt a pang of guilt run through him.
He set the plate of food on the floor and left.
Dusknoir gave Celebi her portion, and she sat down at the table to eat as Dusknoir prepared Grovyle's portion.
Even if he had to squint to think he knows what Celebi's expression was, the fact that she wasn't humming a tune or complimenting his cooking told him all he needed to know.
"Are you okay Celebi?" He asked, lowering himself to sit on the ground across from her.
Celebi's head turned away from her food. He thinks she's glaring at the ground.
"I'm fine." She growled.
Dusknoir steeled his expression.
"No you're not." He replied. He saw Celebi's head turn back towards him.
"Please, Celebi. I'm worried. Tell me how I can-"
Celebi interrupted him with an exasperated sigh.
"Look, I appreciate that you want to help. But I'm not in the mood for a lecture right now. So can you just leave me alone please?" Celebi voiced.
Dusknoir watched her as she ate the rest of her food.
Celebi rose from her seat after taking her last bite.
"Thanks for the food. It was delicious." She mumbled, her tone not indicating much one way or the other.
Celebi fluttered from her seat, back into her room and shut the door. Leaving Dusknoir alone.
Dusknoir sighed as he collected her dishes and put them in the sink.
He took Grovyle's plate and entered into the room he was staying in.
"Grovyle. I... I made breakfast."
Dusknoir sat down next to him, holding his plate.
"Thanks." He mumbled, as he started to sit up.
Dusknoir moved a hand and held it over his chest.
"I won't allow you to put yourself in more pain."
Grovyle laid back down, took a deep breath and sighed.
"Stop that. I know that hurts you."
Dusknoir took the fork on his plate and started feeding him.
It was almost comical. The hitman that hunted him for years feeding him like he's a toddler.
Dusknoir would have laughed if the circumstances were different.
Dusknoir eventually cleaned off Grovyle's plate.
"How was it?" He asked.
Grovyle swallowed the last bite.
"Good." He replied.
Dusknoir rose from his seating position.
"Is there anything else I can-"
"No." Grovyle interrupted.
Dusknoir looked at him with worry before sighing.
"Alright."
He left the room, gently shutting Grovyle's door.
Dusknoir returned to the kitchen and put the dishes away.
He propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. Holding his head in his hands.
He wanted to help.
He wanted to make up for what he's done to them.
He's trying so hard.
But how on earth do you help someone that doesn't want help?
Dusknoir sighed deeply as he put the final portions of breakfast into a container.
He needed to clear his head.
He needed to go for a walk, get some fresh air.
He might as well feed Kip and visit Twig.
Dusknoir silently left the home and started traveling to the Verdant Village hospital.
He glanced around occasionally.
His heart ached as he tried to see the beauty around him, but it was all blurred. His vision fell to the ground in front of him.
Tears stung in his eye as he forced his thoughts to not enter an awful mindset.
He is going to make things right.
He's going to tell Kip again, that what he forgives him for what he did.
He will tell him that as many times it takes to be believed.
And he'll tell him as many times as it takes for him to believe that as well.
"Aw shoot." Dusknoir heard someone mutter in front of him.
He looked up and his heart lept in his chest. Even while blurry he would recognize her.
"Twig?" He asked, his voice shaking.
The figure's head shot upwards, her piercing blue eyes, prominent enough to be clear compared to everything else.
"D-Dusknoir?" She asked, her voice shaking as well.
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andreal831 · 3 days
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Gonna piggyback off that last question, what if there was no hope? Klaus was already back in New Orleans, Elijah was following, and let’s be real, eventually Rebekah would’ve gone back too. Hayley would’ve been in the area too with her trying to find her family. I could see Klaus thinking Hayley was spying on him in some way after them being in the same area post one night stand. Instead of Klaus being jealous of haylijah due to hope, he could be worried they’re plotting against him.
What direction do you think the show would’ve gone in had Hayley never gotten pregnant?
It’s been like half a year since I’ve watched this show, so it’s very possible I got some of the details wrong.
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So Klaus knew Hayley was headed to New Orleans, he's the one who saw her birthmark and told her about the Crescent wolves. He wouldn't be surprised to see her down there. But I could see him thinking that it was all a plot to get him down there. After all, he knew she had betrayed the MF gang, so he knew she wasn't afraid to manipulate.
Now, getting Klaus to New Orleans may have been different. Celeste had spread rumors that the witches of New Orleans were conspiring against him, however, I believe it was Katherine notifying him that something was going on in New Orleans that required his attention (aka pregnant Hayley) which actually got him to investigate. I would have loved for Celeste and Katherine to actually be working together on this. Celeste could have also just sent word to Klaus that Marcel was alive. I believe the Mikaelsons would have returned upon finding that out.
I love haylijah but I don't know how much interaction they would have outside of her being pregnant. A lot of their early interactions came from him protecting her when the witches used the pregnancy to harm her.
Without the pregnancy, Hayley would have gone out to the bayou and, from day one, her focus would have been on finding the cure to her pack. I could even see Celeste recruiting her early in and making a deal with her that the wolves would side with the witches if she undid the curse. This would put Hayley and Elijah on opposite sides of the battle. However, me being the haylijah optimist I could still see them working out. Elijah would go to her as the only werewolf that could speak up for them (Eve would defer to her). Elijah would attempt to be the diplomat and make peace in New Orleans for their family. However, without the pregnancy connection and her early connection with Elijah (him saving her) she would be less influenced to side with the vampires. Although, I do think Hayley was more politically minded than the other werewolves and would have understood it was more important to make peace than vengeance.
I also think she would be more wiling to go along with Jackson without her early connection to Elijah. She was desperate for any connection to family and here he was, saying marrying him was what her parents wanted. She wouldn't have had her own found family in the Mikaelsons and I could see her wanting to do whatever she could to connect to her parents after finding out they were dead. It honestly could have been a more interesting love triangle with Hayley agreeing to the betrothal but then developing feelings for Elijah, rather than Jackson just being on the outside of Hayley and Elijah falling for themselves and circumstances forcing Jackson and Hayley together.
I do think they would still fall for each other without the pregnancy if they were given the time to interact. Elijah loved how Hayley fought for her family, which would still be present, and Hayley loved how protective Elijah was, which I think would still end up coming out. They were immediately physically attracted to each other so the rest would just play out with them working together to bring peace to New Orleans. In some ways it would have been easier because Elijah wouldn't have to hold back because of Klaus. Though he might if he found out about the arranged marriage. So we would still have some drama to work through.
You're right that Klaus would have less logical reason to be jealous but that wouldn't stop him from being jealous. Klaus has always had a weird possessiveness over his siblings love lives, being jealous just because they dared to love someone outside of him. I think the jealousy would be even worse because he had no reason to not just kill Hayley, especially if she was challenging the power he wanted in New Orleans. Depending on how well Elijah knew Hayley, it would put him in the center of battle of New Orleans. I would have loved Season 1 to focus on Elijah since he was tied to each faction and being pulled in each direction.
Thanks for the ask! I love AU/canon-divergent haylijah stories.
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neuropteran · 1 year
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whenever i get upset abt the price of houses my mother likes to make fun of me by finding the most expensive houses or blocks of tiny bits of land that cost like $650k and showing me. “look at this!” she says. why would i want to see this. and when i get upset and say things like “it should be the government’s responsibility to ensure housing is affordable,” she laughs and says it should but they won’t do anything. it’s so evil to see me distressed about my future and for her to tell me it’s too bad
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cimmy · 2 months
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did i not apply to uni last year and am delaying applying this year because turns out i might have fear of rejection?
lets discuss
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gentlethorns · 10 months
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gotta get back into like spirituality. i lost touch w it bc like life happens and i got busy and distracted but one of my friends who's very gifted gave me a tarot reading yesterday and it made me remember that like. i have that power too. i just have to build it back up like a muscle
#she bork#tbd#ngl the reading made me very anxious lol but just bc it was something i needed to hear and it basically just warned me to use caution and#discretion w money which is something that has been very very heavy on my mind lately anyway. it also told me to stop being passive and#letting uncertainty paralyze me which has also been on my mind a lot bc in december i have to move out of the house i've been in for like#four years and my bf and i both don't know what we're gonna do yet (bc like there's some stuff going on w his family that makes moving in w#his mom and paying her rent for her benefit a big contender for a next step but like idk about living w parental figure bc i'm a whole ass#adult. so he might move in w her alone but then i'd have to live alone somewhere and that would kill me i think lol) and also idk what to do#job-wise bc i want to stay at this job for at least like two years just for the experience and so i can demonstrate that like i camp out at#jobs and don't just job-hop but also it's hurting my body and it's very stressful and like i enjoy it most of the time but the bad times#feel really bad. and also i'm tired of going in at like 3 in the morning it feels like i have no life bc even if i'm off the following day#i'm too tired to stay up and do anything that night bc i woke up that morning at like 2:30. so i'm like debating looking for something more#in line w what i want to do and like how i want to live like i'd love to work from home and have energy to exercise and be healthy mentally#and physically and honestly idk if i have that rn. idk just there's lots of stuff on the horizon that's making me very anxious and i have a#tendency to freeze when i get scared and in the pst things have just tended to fall together for me but that won't work this time. this time#i have to do it myself.#so anyway i need to get back in touch w my spiritual side and open myself up to the possibilities. rn i think i just feel stuck and afraid#but if i can take the bull by the horns and actively try to improve my life then it's no big deal
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f4rfields · 19 days
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ngl sometimes the sentiment of "don't ever say anything that might suggest someone may be trans ever" on tumblr being as pervasive as it is feels less like a "i'm trying to be respectful of how you identify/not trying to pry into something you may not be comfortable with" thing and more adjacent to the "trans-as-social-contagion" line that transphobes have.
i didn't feel like i was able to id as anything but cis woman until one of my transfem nb lesbian friends took the time to ask me how i felt about my relationship to gender after watching me post quite a bit in the vent channels on a discord server we were both on. she told me that a lot of the feelings i was having about my relationship to gender and sexuality were things she had also felt before when figuring her own relationship to it out (albeit her journey was different because she also has to navigate transmisogyny), that i shouldn't be afraid to explore the possibility of being nonbinary and even just using "lesbian" as a means to describe my relationship to gender if that felt right, and that i wouldn't be stepping on anyone's toes in doing so.
and that conversation was like a sigh of relief to me after having held my breath for years and being afraid of putting an actual name to how i felt about myself. tbh, if she hadn't reached out, i'd probably still be here telling myself that i'm a cis woman despite how much the concept made me want to crawl out of my skin and made me feel like i was having to smother a part of myself in the process. and i do not think that this is a completely unique experience.
while there's always a line that can be crossed when it comes to just about any personal topic and ultimately that gender identity is journey of self-discovery, the idea that even mildly and compassionately suggesting that someone might benefit from exploring options with their gender identity during a heart-to-heart is somehow inherently disrespectful, or god forbid, predatory (especially when it comes to transfems) is something a lot of people need to unpack.
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violet-eng · 4 months
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F!reader spoils Lil Dragon!Zhongli... at first | Fluff🧸 (with dragon)+ 🔞 (with human Zhongli)
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🎨by: @nagarnia_art and @JeanGreyCG
Summary: You're doing some research in the woods, looking for certain minerals, when you feel some tiny tiny eyes staring at you. After Zhongli morpps from a dragon to a human, things get a bit... hot...
Tw: with human Zhongli smut 🔞, PIV. Insinuations of breeding season, with dragon Zhongli just some cute Dragon behavior bc I ended up traumatized after writing some angst.
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Your research is going well. Your reports to the Fontaine Science Institute were successful during your last expedition, earning you praise from your superiors. You have been living in Liyue for over six months. After learning about minerals that can emanate energy, you sought out information to educate yourself on the subject. 
The rocks in Liyue seem to have a memory, possibly due to the work of their Archon or as a natural result of high evolution and energetic vestiges from ancient wars. 
Zhongli, the Parlor consultant, had told you about a spot at the foot of a valley that might interest you, and you were amazed. You had no reason to doubt the man's wisdom. You had formed a deep bond of friendship with him because you admire his extensive knowledge about everything. You set off almost immediately. He had offered to accompany you, but you had refused because you prefer to do your research alone, surrounded by nature and away from the attractive distraction that Zhongli could become.
Your friend is attractive, in a way that you tried to express in your letters to your friends at Fontaine, but never succeeded. Your banal words and names do not do justice to the physique of this man of unshakable character, steely sense, and tenacious gaze. You could not bear to make a mistake in his presence during the expedition, not because you were clumsy, but because his figure moved your senses, your ground, and betrayed your own perceptions.
So, as you walk through a pleasant area of foliage, covered by the fierce, scorching rays of the sun, you decide to let your guard down, to take off your jacket and your gloves. You use a ribbon to tie up your hair as you walk on, arriving at the place Zhongli had shown you beforehand. The passage is strangely comfortable, very suitable for a quiet investigation, full of strange figures of small rocks of irregular and curious shapes.
Under the canopy of large trees, you spread out your arsenal of tools on the grass, put on your protective visors, and get to work. Sequencing the rock profile takes little time, your agile skills allowing you to avoid unnecessary pauses or clumsy backtracking typical of an amateur. Then you take the samples, tiny particles that do not alter the correct and productive nature that King Geo has protected for years, and while you wait for the filtering to finish, a strange sensation runs down your spine.
You had let your guard down during your experiment, letting the peaceful appearance of the place convince you, something very unprofessional on your part. So you turn to the side and feel a presence. Among the bushes, you spot a pair of curious little spheres, and you jump as the leaves rustle in the presence of an unknown being. 
A deep relief washes over you as the creature in question appears on the scene. A small dragon, microscopic in physiognomy compared to adult forms, with curious eyes and a golden tail twisted into a spiral. Its little paws make furrows in the ground, its face dejected, as if it had been caught doing something illegal.
"Little one, have you been watching me all this time?" You ask the cute little creature, who hides his head between his front paws, realizing he can't do it with his tail, which isn't long enough.
"Come here, don't be afraid of me," you whisper, approaching it cautiously, holding out your hands.
The dragon gathers itself in its own anatomy, growling low, sounding almost like a common cat, you can't help but laugh at it. You bring your fingers up to the growling pellet and stroke its head, right between its underdeveloped horns. You notice a puff of breath coming from the little guy's nose.
"How cute, you liked that, didn't you?" you laugh as you stroke his head and then his back, causing the miniature dragon's tail to wag.
"Come, sit with me, we'll have to wait a long time until the filtering is finished," you take him in your hands, on your palms.
"Wow... I've never seen one of your species so small... and those scales," you comment, bringing your face close to the reptile's, "I'd swear you have very, very soft skin, you're very rare, uh," you add, while you turn to your tools, which emit a strange smell.
You leave the dragon on the ground and approach your machinery, no, nothing out of place... well, now you can turn your attention to the little guy who... what is he doing?
You notice the tiny creature rubbing against your foot, making strange squeaks. It's... it's mating with your shoe? You burst out laughing and shake your foot, pushing it away and picking it up again.
"You horny little bugger," you say, poking him in the nose, "I forgot that your species is in mating season. I regret to inform you that you will get nowhere with me, I am not of the same species... ours is impossible."
A sad sigh escapes from the little animal's chest, and you notice how its whole face becomes depressed, its horns and ears seem to droop in deep disappointment.
"Don't cry," you say, putting it on the ground in the grass and lying down in front of it, "we can play if you want, to distract you a little”.
That got his attention, because he looked at you again. He walks up to you with his little paws and puts one on your nose, he starts to sniff you with that little button in the middle of his little face.
"Ohhh... do you want a little kiss?" you ask, flooded with tenderness, "I would do anything to make you happy" you say, placing a tender kiss on the dragon's forehead. Is like a puppy...
The dragon retraces his steps, accelerating and rolling his head in madness. You see him writhing in place, as if he had suddenly fallen ill, and then... poof... a golden flash and a trail of smoke,  ike the one he had just exhaled through his nose. A faint wave of heat and a faint smell of sulfur as a figure began to form behind the column of smoke.
You straightened up in your seat as the column disintegrated, revealing the very embarrassed image of Zhongli, covering his mouth as he coughs, with traces of smoke and golden flames escaping from his throat.
He is wearing little clothing, a tunic of the same color as the skin of the dragon you spoke to earlier... is that perhaps...? 
"You," you point an accusing finger at Zhongli, and he looks at you with flushed cheeks, "what was that? Aren't you going to say anything about it?" you say to the man, appearing to be annoyed, although in reality, seeing him in that outfit has aroused something pleasurable in you.
"Well?" you insist.
"Are you going to give me that kiss or?" he interjects, his voice still weak and embarrassed.
His embarrassment fades for the next hour, during which he relentlessly thrusts himself into you, waiting for your boring explorer machine to end.
The filtering of the rocks continues, the particles falling into the vessel like sand in a crystal clock. The small machines emit tiny clicks and a faint plume of smoke and gas. The rumble of the cycle's drumbeat advances in rhythm with your moans as you feel Zhongli sink deep into you.
You lie on the grass, your pants and panties around your ankles, your hands on your head clinging to the foliage, your waist encircled by Zhongli's large hands holding you steady so he can work his way into your pussy. You feel his pelvic bone against your center, his balls against your skin, and then he pulls away to enter again. Gently, lovingly, afraid to break you and hurt you. He's painfully slow, but how good it feels.
You hear him make low, rasping noises as faint plumes of smoke rise from his nose, as when he looked like a dragon. His cock twists inside you, slapping against your cervix, massaging your wet, warm depths that mold to the shape of his member. You feel the warmth rush down your legs, an electric current coursing through every fiber of your limbs, your chest heaving in desperation.
The orgasm hits you both at the same time, decorating Zhongli's cock with a white ring as his cum spills into you like thick ropes from his ecstasy. He pulls back your panties and pants, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.
"May I mark you?" he asks with a look of honor, his face sublime and devoted.
"Don't even think about it," you say, joining in, noticing the sadness in his eyes, "we weren't even supposed to do it. It was just supposed to be a kiss and that's it," you seem to scold him, though it's you who's scolding yourself for being so unseemly and impetuous, though damn... you've enjoyed it so much... ....
Sensing your hostile tone, Zhongli wraps himself up and immediately transforms into his small reptilian form.
"Please stop being so dramatic," you express, leaning against one of the tree trunks and letting out a laugh. "Come back... I don't want to wait alone," you say, crossing your legs and putting your jacket down.
Zhongli, the dragon, approaches you with short steps, due to the length of his small legs, and climbs onto your lap, where he rubs the fabric of your coat, nestling into the fabric to take refuge, and lets out a yawn before closing his eyes and settling down for a nap. You stroke his back and coo to the little creature, feeling him purr like a cat.
"How cute you are when you sleep," you laugh, stroking his nose, causing him to bite your finger, "did you just mark me without my permission?" You ask, but he just squeals and jumps off your lap, looking for a way to escape. You catch him with your coat and throw it at him like a fleeing rat, but he manages to escape and hide in the bushes... you don't see him again for the rest of the afternoon, but you know that when you return to Liyue Harbour you will demand an apology, an explanation... and maybe a round two.
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ilovechuuyasm · 3 months
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I'm delusional, so I came up with a beautiful scenario with Alastor in which he loves the reader 😭
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It's a situation where you've known him while you were still alive and you both were dating, but he died lmao.
Well, after a while, you died too, and since his death, you haven't been able to love anyone else. You went to hell after death and heard about some Hazbin Hotel on the news. Normally, you would ignore it completely, but your attention was caught by a host who looked remarkably like your beloved one from Earth, but more demonically, and what caught your attention even more was that he had the same name.
You went to the hotel because apparently everyone was welcome there, but when you got there he wasn't there because he had something to do. Everyone was shocked that you were looking for him and that's how you found out what he was famous for in hell. This only confirmed your suspicions that you had found your loved one after death, not many people could do such a fucked up thing, and you knew Alastor well, you just hoped he would recognize you too.
Finally, Alastor returned to the Hotel, before anyone could tell him about your arrival, when you saw him, you couldn't help but hug him out of nowhere. Bro was shocked. Before he even realized who you were, he pushed you away from him in one move. You saw a huge smile on his face, but he looked annoyed.
"Huuh, who might you be-?" He started talking and looked at you "Y/N..?" he asked quietly, in disbelief. When you nodded he hugged you again. "You died?" he asked.
"Umm, yeah?" You chuckled "And you killed a large part of the rulers of hell?"
While you were asking each other questions, wanting to immediately learn as much as possible about each other, everyone in the hotel was even more shocked, seeing Alastor hug a random person and being so nice to them.
"You look impressive as a radio demon" you said, judging his appearance and you touched his ear "And you have such adorable fluffy deer ears!" He still had that wide smile on his face, but you knew you were embarrassing him. A quiet "aww" could be heard coming from Charlie in the background.
"HA! I think we have a lot to talk about, darling!" Alastor said to you "In a more private place..." His eyelid twitched slightly, but you weren't afraid of him lmao, so you hugged his hand gently and you went to the room he called his own.
"Well, darling, what brought you to this hotel?" He asked, when you were admiring his half-forest room "Are you looking for redemption?"
"Uh, not actually, I just wanted to make sure it was you who.. was in the advertisement. What are you doing here anyway? Don't you think this idea is quite... ridiculous?" you chuckled.
"That's exactly what I think! But I have my reasons for being here, you'll understand everything soon, darling HaHa!" he looked at you, still smiling "And watching these people seek redemption is very entertaining" he tilted his head slightly.
"Yeah.." you randomly petted his hair, touching his ears, because for some reason you were so fascinated about them and you noticed Alastor squinting gently. (Sorry, I love the headcanon that his ears are sensitive and he reacts like a pet being scratched behind the ears) "Okay! Why don't you introduce me to your... friends?" you asked.
The hotel members were shocked again when Alastor told them that you were his partner, but Charlie was very happy that another person would stay at the hotel.
And this is something like the second part (self-advertisement):
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futureman · 6 months
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happiest day
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pairing: mike schmidt x reader
summary: when you least expect it, mike surprises you with a confession
warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, hint of angst, smut, unprotected piv, creampie, mentions of rough sex, requited feelings
word count: <1k
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Mike tells you he loves you for the first time the way no one ever should. Balls deep, while he's cumming inside you.
It tumbles out, a quiet moan at first, then a louder realization that takes both of you by surprise. His hips slam into your ass once, twice, and then he's filling you up, his admission hanging heavy in the air.
You're almost positive you imagined it until he repeats it again with a little more conviction.
"Fuck. I think I'm in love with you," he pants heavily, his hands intermittently squeezing your waist in time with the heady pulsing of his cock.
There's a beat of silence while you struggle to process his words, torn between the warring sensations of his release leaking down your thighs and shock tugging at your ribcage. He slips out of you as he softens, and once your connection is broken, it hits you like a ton of bricks.
"...What?"
He freezes behind you, and you immediately regret your gut response. That's not what you meant to say at all. Of course, it's not. You're just...confused. You hadn't expected it from him, not when you've only been together for a few months. Part of you wants to wait and see if he takes it back, just in case. But he doesn't.
"If...it's okay, you know. If you don't feel the same, it's okay," he mumbles, folding over you to rest his forehead between your shoulder blades.
His breath is warm and humid against your skin as he peppers soft, lingering kisses down your spine. Strong arms wrap around your waist, clinging to you like this might be his last chance, and suddenly it all feels so real. You've been too quiet for too long and now he's afraid.
You haven't told him yet, but there's no need to be. You just can't figure out how. How can anyone possibly cram the immensity of months of pizza nights on the living room floor watching James and the Giant Peach with Abby, and days off work spent tangled in bed, fucking and fighting and forgiving, into three little words?
You try anyway, but what comes out isn't a response. It's a plea. You don't know what you're asking for—you just know you need him.
"Mike," your voice shakes with it. He holds you tighter, and now there's so little space between you, you can't tell where he ends and you begin.
"You don't have to say it. It's okay, I won't be mad. I just...I need you to say something. Anything," he whispers, his day-old stubble rough and grounding as he speaks.
He nuzzles into you, breathing unevenly—nervously—and you realize he's comforting you. Regardless of what you decide, you're still his first priority.
You find his hand where it rests, splayed across your stomach, and lace your fingers with his. Just say it. Just tell him, say it back. There'll be plenty of time to show him how much you mean it.
Because they're not just words. They're not even a feeling. Love is a promise, and you'll keep it.
Taking a steadying breath, you turn in his arms and pull him down on top of you. It's the first time you've seen his face since he got home and wrestled you onto your hands and knees, all searing touches and deep, frantic thrusts. Since he told you he loves you.
His eyes meet yours, darting from one to the other, desperate for an answer, but yours, instead, follow the freckles across his nose down to the curve of his cupid's bow. There is so, so much to love about Mike Schmidt, and he deserves to know it.
"Of course, I love you," you promise, tilting your chin up so your bottom lip just grazes his top.
His face lights up with an unrestrained smile you see so rarely, the one reserved only for you and Abby on his happiest days. You lean forward to kiss him, softly and open-mouthed, and he inhales sharply, his hands shooting down to your waist.
His grip is a little too tight, and you think maybe he's scared you'll take it back, so you wrap your legs around him to hold him right where he is. Then, the kiss deepens and, when his hands start to roam, you realize what he needs.
Mike has always found solace in you, inside you, whenever he's struggling to express or accept what he's feeling, and right now he's asking for reassurance. Hooking your heels behind his back, you tug his hips into yours, and he groans into your mouth as he slips through his release still dripping from your heat.
He's already hard as a rock and bucking into you as if he didn't fuck you into his mattress less than an hour ago, except this time you can see him. The tension between his brows and in his shoulders visibly loosens, and he exhales a sigh of relief the moment he's buried to the hilt.
Enveloped by your warmth and security, it falls from his lips again, over and over—an increasingly sure declaration as he continuously fills you up and hollows you out.
You repeat it back, and it feels good. It feels so good to love Mike Schmidt.
thanks for reading!
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kalinysu · 11 months
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𝐆𝐎 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. ⇀ Muzan x F!Reader
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𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your Muzan’s first wife, and only demon wife. You’ve known him for centuries, and he seems to have mellowed quite a bit with you. This particular night, Muzan seemed to be in an even worse mood than usual, getting annoyed with you for every question you asked.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Cursing, verbal abuse, threats, sexually suggestive behavior.
𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first story, working on more. also might be some spelling errors, i’m writing this half asleep.
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“I’m beginning to question what other purpose you have other than to please and love me. Tell me, why is it you struggle so much to complete one simple god damn task? Hm? Answer me when i’m fucking speaking to you. Would you prefer it if I fucked the answer out of you again? Useless bitch.”
You and Muzan had been lying in bed for a few minutes now, neither of you moving or speaking. You could sense Muzan’s anger, since when he returned all he was doing was yelling and cursing at you. You were too afraid to make any noise at all, as he had been cursing at you and yelling since he had gotten back, only stopping about an hour ago when he had gotten into the shower.
You finally built up the courage to say something, turning your head to look at Muzan, who was laying on his side with his back facing you. “Mh..Muzan? Can I… Can I turn of this lamp?” You tried your best to ask as nicely and softly as possible, not wanting to upset him or bother him even more. “Go ahead.” He mumbled. You hesitantly sat up and reached over to turn off the lamp, before moving back to your original position.
Normally, you and Muzan would be cuddling. But there was a large gap between you two in bed. You nervously fidgeted with your fingers, before looking at him once again. You stayed silent for a moment, trying to read his body language somehow and see if he was starting to get annoyed again. In your mind, you were complaining about the way he was acting. It was rare to see him like this but still, you practically craved his attention everyday, and now he wasn’t giving it to you. “Can I..braid your hair?” You asked, growing bored of simply sitting there. “..Go ahead.” He said once again. You moved a little closer to him, your fingertips running across his neck as you pulled all his long curly black hair towards you, not trying to pull on it too much.
You braided his hair carefully, making sure you didn’t tug too hard. You swore you could feel Muzan tense up at your touch for a moment, or maybe it was just you. When you were finished with the braid, you couldn’t help but ask another question. “Muzan can I—“ You were cut off by him already answering. “Go ahead.” He said, seemingly just wanting you to shut up already. You stared at him for a moment, before moving a little closer to him. You hugged him tight from behind, which only resulted in you being pushed away from him.
He was seemingly still upset with you for failing multiple missions, though you were glad he didn’t kill you like he would another demon, because you were his wife, you got the most special treatment.
Muzan then turned over to face you, his red eyes now open. He suddenly grabbed your face and pulled you closer, before kissing you, earning him a small whimper from you. “Stop whining. I can hear your thoughts.” He broke the kiss for a moment to speak, before kissing you once again. Your cheeks flushed red, only now having realized that. He had told you multiple times before but you never truly payed attention to his words. "M-maste—“ You tried to break the kiss and explain yourself, but his grip on the back of your head only forced you into the kiss once more. Your hands went up to his chest, feeling his muscular body through the robe he wore.
“Go ahead, darling.”
Your hand pushed away the silky fabric, opening your eyes slightly to see his bare chest, ever so slightly pulling away from the kiss only for him to forcefully turn your head back, deepening the kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Even going as far as biting your bottom lip, causing you to whimper once again. Your hands felt his body, ever single ab on his stomach, before moving down, attempting to feel even more before Muzan’s hand stopped yours, gripping your wrist. “Not now, dear.” He said, pulling away from the kiss with a grin. You were about to whine and complain, until he had gotten on top of you and kissed you once again, this time his hands were wandering all over your body.
“You don’t deserve anything yet. You’ve got no clue how tired I am of you being such a needy bitch, who can’t even think about anything but sex. Can’t do anything right, can you?”
“Master—P-please, you know I haven’t seen you practically all day…” You said, barely above a whisper. Your thoughts were running wild, no matter how much you tried to hide them, your mind was filled with the thought of Muzan fucking you. You couldn’t stand the feeling between your legs, it was far too much. You desperately needed attention down there, but it seemed Muzan wasn’t willing to give you any. Moving off of you and bringing you closer to him, wrapping an arm around you and burying his face into your neck.
“Think of this as your punishment, for not being able to accomplish anything I ask of you.”
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narryffdreaming · 24 days
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Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't)
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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
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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."
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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." 
 
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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. 
 
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"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." 
 
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"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." 
 
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"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." 
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slayfics · 2 months
Text
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Katsuki holds your hand.
1,100 words~
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You adjusted to get more comfortable on the couch while the boys continued their conversation about today's training.
"If you ask me, we really showed what Class 1A can do today, that's all I'm saying," Denki said concluding his point.
"I agree everyone did their best today," Hanta said nodding.
Katsuki came into the common room and made his way over to join the conversation. He sat down at the furthest possible spot away from you on the couch. Even though you two had been in some type of undefined relationship for a while, he never showed any indication of it around others.
You rolled your eyes at his decision to sit so far away from you.
"Oh, hey Kacchan, we were just talking about how awesome everyone was in the training today. Especially me with my smart thinking~," Denki said with his usual sly smile.
"Tch- you're really thinking a lot of yourself after that aren't you?" Katsuki huffed out.
"Hey come on, you guys are always making fun of me for being dumb so- I gotta gloat my wins when I can, right?" Denki responded.
"Awe Kaminari~ we only make fun of you because that face you make when you fry your brain is so cute~," you said leaning over to pinch his cheek.
"Hey cut it out!" He exclaimed and swatted your hand away, a bright red blush illuminating his face.
Katsuki grunted and got up walking back to the elevator for the dorm rooms.
"You're leaving already?! You just got here man!" Eijiro called after him.
"Yeah, it's late," he said without turning around and continuing to walk to the elevators.
You jumped up and followed him to the elevator. The boys eyed you but didn't say anything and continued their conversation.
"The hell are you following me for?" Katsuki asked grumpily pressing the elevator button.
"No way you're going to bed, it's too early even for you," you observed.
The elevator opened and you both stepped in, "What do you care? Just go back," he spoke, waiting for you to exit, but instead you leaned over and pressed the button to his floor.
The elevator closed giving you both some privacy, "Why don't you just say you're jealous?" You asked bluntly, turning to Katsuki.
"HA?!" he exclaimed, turning to you, fury in his eyes.
"Come on you think that wasn't obvious? You got up as soon as I made that flirty comment at Kaminari," You challenged him.
The elevator opened up to his floor and Katsuki stormed out.
"Don't ignore me!" You yelled following after him.
Katsuki opened his dorm door and let out an annoyed huff of air when you slipped in under his arm.
"You can't run away from me you know," You declared. Katsuki angrily slammed his door and pulled your wrist up above your head, pinning you against the door. Any other person might have been afraid, but Katsuki's angry outbursts didn't faze you anymore.
His face was just inches away from yours and you could see the anger that flashed in his eyes ignited by his jealousy, "You know I fucking hate when you do that."
"Do what?" You asked, playing innocent as if you didn't intentionally flirt with Denki to piss him off.
"Don't play dumb with me," He growled. "You're so god damn flirty and it pisses me off, makes those extras think they have a chance with you. Especially dunce face, I hate the way he looks at you. Makes me want to explode the shit out of him. You're mine you know that!"
"Well- maybe they wouldn't look at me that way if they knew," You challenged him.
Katsuki let go of your wrist and stepped a few paces back from you, "I told you I'm not good at this shit." He said, crossing his arms.
"I'm not either Katsuki- but you sat the furthest away you could have from me down there-,"
"The fuck does that matter?? I was just sitting on the couch. Why the hell are you like that anyway? Do you like dunce face or something?" He asked.
You let out a sigh, "No of course not, I like you. I only did it because it pisses you off," You let out a small laugh. "I just want your attention that's all," you answered honestly.
"Tch- my attention? What a dumb ass way to go about it." He huffed.
"Told you, I'm not good at this stuff either. What if- I'll stop my playful comments if you make it obvious that there's... something between us," you proposed.
"Like what? You want me to hold your goddamn hand or something?" he asked.
Your eyes blinked wide. You were going to suggest just having him sit next to you on the couch next time- but this was much better.
"Yeah that's- that's good," you said trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. You didn't want Katsuki to see how much that actually meant to you.
"Fine, now get out, it actually is late now I gotta sleep," He grumbled.
You moved closer and placed a kiss on his cheek, "Sure thing Grandpa," you teased, and laughed as you left his room and made your way back to yours.
The following day, you sat in the common room around the usual couches the boys chose to hang out on.
"Man, today's lesson went way over my head, did any of you get it?" Eijiro asked looking distressed.
"Nope- Ectoplasm's lecture was impossible to follow," Denki said.
You were about to respond when you noticed Katsuki making his way to the couches. The boys continued their conversation while you eyed Katsuki, wondering if he'd stay true to his word. Katsuki silently sat next to you. Both hands tucked deep into his sweat pockets he looked away from the group.
"Bakugo, you're going to have to tutor all of us on the lesson today!" Eijiro exclaimed.
"Sure whatever-" Katsuki said still looking away from the group.
Eijiro looked at him curiously, wondering what was wrong, but decided not to push his friend and continued his conversation with Denki.
Without warning Katsuki pulled out his hand from his pocket and quickly grabbed yours, interlacing his fingers with yours. You looked down at your hands and then back up at him. He was still facing away from the group and his leg was bouncing up and down nervously.
Eijiro stopped mid-sentence at the sight.
"WHAT!?" Katsuki barked snapping his head to Eijiro.
"Nothing! Nothing!" Eijiro said quickly. He knew Katsuki well enough to know better than to make it a big deal.
The boys silently looked at each other and then back at you two stealing glances.
"If someone says a goddamn word I'm exploding them," Katsuki mumbled and turned to look away from the group again.
"So, anyway that lesson was awful," you said, encouraging the group to pick back up the conversation and not make a scene about Katsuki holding your hand.
"Yeah right-," Denki said and continued complaining about the rest of the day.
Katsuki gave your hand a slight squeeze, showing his appreciation.
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Tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif
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transmascissues · 2 months
Note
it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?
first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.
one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.
this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.
oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.
basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.
but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!
at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.
just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.
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