#she deserved to have friends. actual friends. people she didn't have to pretend for or lie to. in canon she seemed so fucking lonely.

[lixzey]

forever yours.

one two

Timothée Chalamet, cheating on Kylie Jenner? The Wonka actor was spotted kissing an unknown woman in Los Angeles!

You stared at the article on your phone, your hands shaking. You knew you shouldn't think about it; after all, you and Timothée have been dating for four years, and he loves you—only you. But nobody knew that, though. He was a world-famous actor, and you were someone who just so happened to have his heart. You two had decided to keep the relationship low-key and private, away from the chaotic world of Hollywood. Nobody outside of both of your families and friends knew who you were or what you looked like.

You sighed, plopping down on the bed in your boyfriend's apartment. You have been living with him for the last two years, and you loved every bit of it. Timothée was the sweetest boyfriend; he loved to spoil you. He gives you everything that you deserve and more—his words, not yours. You couldn't ask for anything more; you were happily content with the love of your life.

But you still can't brush off the fact that in this story, you were the bad guy. 

It all started in December 2022, when Timothée was forced to date Kylie Jenner. His management thought that it would be beneficial for him, seeing that Kylie was Forbes' youngest self-made billionaire and had tons of fans, maybe more than Timothée had. At first, your boyfriend was reluctant. He didn't want to date anyone else other than you. You two argued, but in the end, you convinced him that it would be good for his career. 

Timothée signed the contract, and he was obligated to date the youngest daughter of Kris Jenner. 

It started with little appearances like Kylie showing up at your home, and you had to leave or hide because there were paparazzis all over the perimeter of your house. Your boyfriend was absolutely apologetic that you had to pretend that you were not his, and it broke his heart to see you smile from the sidelines. 

You assured him that everything's alright. You were okay with everything, as long as, at the end of the day, he came back home to you. 

Some Timothée's fans were hopelessly praying that it was all some sort of PR stunt—which it actually was, but you signed a non-disclosure agreement. You had no choice but to keep it to yourself. Their 'relationship' went on and on, giving the people the benefit of the doubt. 

Until early September, when the PR team decided that it was time to make it public.

You were a little bit heartbroken when you saw it on social media. It was at Beyoncé's birthday concert, a celebrity-studded event, which made it the perfect opportunity to show off their relationship. The way Kylie Jenner had her hands all over your man made your blood boil. Timothée looked uncomfortable, but he didn't have any other choice. You wanted to go and just punch that plastic woman for having her claws all over your boyfriend, but you couldn't do anything. You hated it, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. Because if you did, Timothée would drop it before you could even say no. 

The way your boyfriend has his arms wrapped around that plastic bitch made you want to slap her and tear off all the plastic she had in her fake body. The way she kissed your man made you want to feed her to the sharks in the Atlantic Ocean. The way your boyfriend had his hand over her ass made you want to go and make a deal with the devil to rid the world of that woman, and maybe chop off your boyfriend's hands while you're at it. But again, you couldn't do a thing. You were left to watch while another woman pawed at your man. 

Timothée did everything to make it up to you. He would always assure you that it was all for show and nothing more. He loved you, only you, and he would never dream of hurting you. You knew that, of course, but you can't help getting annoyed by it—you won't tell him that though, because you couldn't. 

But now you were a homewrecker, a slut. 

Apparently, someone saw you and your boyfriend kissing. It was your fourth anniversary. Timothée had brought you to your favorite restaurant in Los Angeles and was enjoying the night, celebrating four years of love. After a bit of wine, he kissed you, like he always did—momentarily forgetting his 'girlfriend'. 

The next day, the photo of you and your boyfriend kissing was all over the internet. People were calling you a homewrecker, a slut, a whore, and more. You practically had death threats filling up semi-trucks. People were telling you who you are, and you didn't have a choice, all because you loved Timothée. 

All of this for what? Celebrating four years with the man you love? 

You buried your face in your hands, trying to muffle your sobs. You felt like the whole world was against you, like you were the villain in some twisted fairytale. What did you do to even deserve any of this? You just wanted to be with your man, but the world had other plans. 

“Mon amour? Are you here?” A voice echoed from downstairs. You wiped away the tears from your eyes, putting on another fake smile as you walked down. 

“Hey, love. Are you hungry?” You asked, voice breaking. Timothée looked at you, and you knew he knew something was wrong. You mentally kicked yourself for being so utterly stupid.

“What's wrong, mon amour?” Timothée asked, stepping forward and wrapping you in his arms. 

“Nothing, it's alright.” You lied. You were getting pretty good at lying, not that you were proud of it. 

Timothée sighed, his arms wrapping you tighter against his body. “Y/n, please, baby. I know something's wrong; you've been crying.” You could hear his heartbeat, the loud thumping in his chest calming you. You sighed loudly, burying your face into his chest, the smell of his cologne invading your nostrils. You pulled away abruptly, and the look of confusion on his face made your heart wrench inside your chest.

“I'm okay, don't worry.” 

Timothée cupped your face in his hands, your eyes meeting his. “Y/n, please, mon amour. Just tell me, I just want to help.” 

You took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Have you seen the tabloids?”

Timothée sighed, knowing it was about his fake relationship again. “Can you tell me what it is, baby? I'm sorry I haven't checked out the news.”

“It's just....it's silly, honestly.”

“It's not silly if it's bothering you, my love.” 

“Someone saw us kissing yesterday, and it's all over the tabloids.” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor. 

“Oh, baby,” Timothée whispered. “I'm so sorry; I dragged you into this. It's all my fault.” he muttered.

Your heart broke when he said it was his fault. It wasn't; it was the people who were quick to judge. “It isn't your fault, Tim.” 

“It is, baby. I shouldn't have agreed to that PR stunt. I should've just turned it down and spent all of my time with you instead-” You cut him off with your lips crashing with his. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You felt all of your worries evaporate into thin air, and all that mattered was him. The man you have spent four years with, the man you see a future with. 

You pulled away, making him growl as the feeling of your lips left his. You chuckled, kissing him on the cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you more, baby. But….” 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “But what, baby?” You asked worriedly. 

“Can I see what the article says? And anything else related to it?” 

Your eyes widened slightly. It was one thing for you to read all of those horrid things people have written about you, but Timothée? He would break at the words people have said about you, and you couldn't live with him thinking his fans were horrible to the woman he loves. 

“Baby….” 

“Please, mon amour? You don't deserve to get all the hate.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, trying to diffuse the tension. “Who said I was getting hate?” 

Timothée chuckled. “I know Hollywood.”

You let out a deep sigh as you rubbed your temples. “It's horrible, mon amour.” 

“I don't care; I still love you no matter what.” 

“You really want to read it?”

“Yes, I do.” 

You opened your phone and showed him one of the videos on TikTok about the articles. 

timmyfan1: omg timmy cheated on kylie with her? yuck, homewrecker. 

kyliestan_: such a slut, going after someone else's boyfriend.

timotheestan: die bitch

– timobaby: yeah, go die in a ditch you slut. 

– kyjennerbaby: not timothée's fans wanting the girl to die 😭

timotheechalamalabingbong: not timothée throwing away his relationship and career for this girl 😭 

kyliebaby: poor kylie, got her heart broken by this douchebag

jennersisters: anyone want to help me find that girl and slap the shit outta her?

– user1: count me in! 

– user2: me too! i'm gonna drag that little bitch down 

“I'm so sorry, mon amour,” Timothée whispered as he turned the phone off. “You don't deserve any of this.” 

You smiled sadly at him. “I know, but this is nothing.”

“No, it's not nothing. They want you to die, and that's not okay…” 

“I don't have any plans on dying, Timmy.” You chuckled. 

"But…but...”

"No buts. I know it hurts, but we have to live with it. I have to live with it. You'll just have to focus on your career, okay?” 

Timothée sighed in defeat. “You're the most precious person in this world; you don't deserve this.”

“And you know it.” You smiled, grabbing his hand in yours. “I don't care about their words anymore, as long as I have you.”

“I don't deserve you.” 

“You do; you deserve me and more.” You chuckled, kissing his knuckles. “I love you, no matter what.”

“I love you, Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” Timothée planted a soft kiss on your lips before pulling you again to his chest. “I'm yours, forever yours.”

You sighed contentedly, melting at his touch, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend's arms. The only thing that mattered in that moment was you and him; no one could ever take away your happiness. 

Your boyfriend, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Go for his brother part 2

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭

↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend

↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup

username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀

username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur

↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge

username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie

username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction

username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao

↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol

username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama

yourusername The Art & The Artist

view all comments

charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all

↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭

username1 MY OH MY

username2 What did she say 😐

username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her

username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)

francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶

↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶

username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf

username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?

username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying

yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️

↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅

username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme

↳username5 What makes you think that?

username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake

username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day

exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷

↳yourusername 😐

↳francisca.cgomes 😐

↳yoursister 😐

↳charles_leclerc 😐

↳pierregasly 😐

↳georgerussell63 😐

↳carmenmmundt 😐

↳alex_albon 😐

↳lilymhe 😐

username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭

↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣

username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST

username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?

arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️

view all comments

exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️

username1 💀

username2 Alright they both have the audacity

username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao

username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol

↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED

username5 They deserve each other tbh

username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...

↳username7 wdym

username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭

username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao

exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us

↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you

↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮

yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️

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username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?

yoursister You guys look so good together

↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily

↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊

↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭

lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing

↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together

username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭

username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE

↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation

username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?

username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure

username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur

username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment

arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?

↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????

↳username3 wtf are u doing here

↳yourusername Maybe...

username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏

username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr

alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date

↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where

arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this

↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom

arthur_leclerc You know what I mean

arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point

yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually

arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever

charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after

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username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS

pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected

↳username2 bro speaking facts

username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭

username4 Well at least the family already knew her

↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry

username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?

alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year

↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it

francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂

↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶

arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are

↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful

↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party

username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶

username2 at least the "maman" is the same right

username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur

username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭

↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like

carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂

↳username9 Not funny

username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace

↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢

carlossainz55 Valid point

arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend

charles_leclerc On which you cheated

arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?

↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao

↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again

arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me

yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me

charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us

[narryffdreaming]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We kissed."

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

Maisy nodded, and Niall jerked his body closer. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just like that.

Maisy kissed Harry.

And then Harry kissed Maisy.

A lot.

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

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

"Does he know you like him, then?" 

Maisy shrugged. 

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

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

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

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

"Because it wasn't out of nowhere."

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

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

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— — — — — 

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

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

"Can I come in?" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing changed, and she swallowed. 

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

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

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

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

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

There was a pause. A long and painful pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Everything was fine, Maisy!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He frowned, unable to move.

"Is it true? Do you?"

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

"I can't."

"Why not?"

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

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

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

"Just friends? Really?"

"Yes!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, Harry cleared his throat, and shrugged. 

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

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

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

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

And there it was. 

Harry closed his eyes.

See? Of course Niall already knew about that.

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

Bloody hell.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"When did you see her?" 

"Yesterday."

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

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

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

Shit.

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

Harry finally glanced over, shaking his head. 

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

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

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

Harry nodded, and looked away. 

He probably deserved that.

— — — — —

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

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

"How is she?"

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

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

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

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

Niall peeked at him through the corner of his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well, obviously, this time was different."

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

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

"Wha—" 

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

"I—"

"You do remember that, right?"

Harry scoffed. "Of course I remember!" 

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

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

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

"Then what is it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What do I do now?" 

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

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

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

"No, I know that."

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

 

Three weeks later, Maisy saw him again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So that's exactly what she did. 

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

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

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

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

"Of course." Maisy smiled, and nodded. 

Was she, though?

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

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

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

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

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

"You think you'll talk tonight?" 

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

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

"What if he wants to apologize?"

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

"No one—"

"Harry."

"Eileen!" 

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

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

Maisy sighed. "It's fine. I just—" 

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

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

She really couldn't. 

It was too much. 

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

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

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

— — — — —

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

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

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

"Horannnnn! C'mere!" 

Callie waved, and Maisy dropped her head back.

"Nooooo!" she cried. "Stop!"

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

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

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

"Nothing!" 

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

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

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

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

Maisy looked away. 

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

"Okay, but why is he watching her?"

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

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

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

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

"Girls—" 

"But he was such a dick to her!"

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

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

"Ladies, hey—" 

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

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

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

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

"Wanna sit and chat for a bit?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She didn't want to look for him.

And yet… 

She did. 

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked down, and unlocked her phone. 

Adam was currently twenty minutes away.

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

"Aha! There you are!" 

Maisy moved her eyes up and to the side. 

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

"Max was just asking about you." 

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

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

"Are you leaving?" Niall asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ugh. 

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

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

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

Maisy shook her head.

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

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

Maisy's world stopped turning. All over again.

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

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

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

Damn. 

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

No, no, no. 

Please, no. 

Where the hell was Adam?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Niall frowned. "No, I—" 

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

"Sorry, I—" 

"I can give you a ride," Harry said. 

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

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

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

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

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

"Shit," Niall cursed, then coughed. 

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

"Where—"

"I forgot my jacket!" Niall shouted. 

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

"Be right back guys!"

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

Nobody but her.

And him. 

Nobody but them.

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

Shit. 

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

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

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

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

Harry turned around, still laughing. 

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

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

"Oh…" She furrowed her brows. "Okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Right?" 

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

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

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

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

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

He looked like her best friend.

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

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

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

Maisy blinked.

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

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

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

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

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

Maisy blinked.

"Oh, okay." 

There was a pause.

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh my—"

"—what I know now and—" 

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

"No, I know. I—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then, she cried. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't care."

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

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

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

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

Hadn't she already? 

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

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

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

"Why not?"

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

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

And Maisy hated it. 

She wanted to be glued to him all over again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maisy blinked. "What?" 

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

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

"I…" 

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

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

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

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

He shook his head, and his nose nudged hers. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you still mean the things you said?"

Harry nodded. "Every single word."

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

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

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

"Why? What changed?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ugh. I know—" 

"—being with that girl and—"   

"—I know. I'm sorry, 'm sorry." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I mean—"

"What else did he say?!"

"Nothing! He just—"

"I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

Harry pursed his lips, and then laughed.

"It's not funny!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Damn, Isy…" he murmured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He opened his eyes. 

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

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

"Dunno. Think 'm high right now."

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

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

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

"Think I developed an addiction—"

"Shut up." 

"—and your mouth is my drug—" 

" — Harry! — "

" — I need more — " 

" — You're ridiculous—"  

" — Gimme more — "

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

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

Harry sighed, then broke off the kiss. 

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

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

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

— — — — —

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maisy nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't want to?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maisy nodded, and grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then someone honked behind them. 

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

The car behind them honked again. And again. 

"Wha—" 

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

And the car behind them honked, again.

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

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

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

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

Peeking at her, Harry sighed. 

"Shit. I'm sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

"Mhm." 

She laughed. 

And then they both laughed.

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

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

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

 

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

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

She narrowed her eyes, and looked up at him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What happened to building maintenance?" she murmured. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God. That felt good. 

Really good.

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

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

So good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Been thinking about you in this outfit since I first saw you tonight." 

He traced her collarbones, then breezed from her shoulders to her forearms, sliding his own shirt off from her arms, and then going all the way back up to her chest once again. 

Her flesh prickled at his touch, and a brief shiver rippled through her, causing Harry's smirk to get even wider.

Just like before, his reaction was enough to snap something inside her. Because even though she enjoyed taking orders and being compliant to someone else's wishes, Maisy didn't enjoy giving all her power away. Not all at once, at least.

So she looked down at her own body, let Harry's shirt hang on her elbows, and raised her eyebrows. 

"This outfit?" she asked, as if she hadn't bought that top specifically for that night. Or as if she had never heard Harry talking to the boys about bloody gorgeous tits before. Or as if she wasn't proud of the curves she had to offer. Or as if she hadn't hoped of getting his attention when she'd put the pieces together and stared at herself in the mirror earlier in the afternoon. 

"Mhmm…" He grabbed the spaghetti straps between his fingers, then followed their path from her shoulders to her chest. "This outfit."

She glanced up again, then watched him carefully and patiently, fluttering her eyelids while drowning her voice in innocence and naivety. "What about it?" 

"Do I really need to say it?"

Maisy nodded. "I would like you to, yes."

Harry hummed, and looked down at her chest. He toyed with the thin straps a little longer, hooking each one inside of his fingers and running through them up and down. 

If Maisy would've had to guess, she would've thought he was pondering his next words. Weighing them up. Choosing them carefully. Making sure they wouldn't go unnoticed, and therefore making sure she wouldn't go unaffected. She'd seen Harry flirting so many times, that she knew how much liked the thrill of the chase. She'd also shared a lot of conversations with him about the subject, so she knew how much he cared about making other people feel good, even when he knew it wouldn't go further than a one night stand—although even if she hadn't talked to him about it, she knew that making people feel good was a trait that played a huge part in who Harry was; not only when dating or hooking up, but just in general.

"Well," he eventually said, clearing his throat and answering her question. "I mean, I didn't want to be disrespectful at the club, but…" 

He moved his hands, leaving the straps of her top behind and tracing its edge instead.

"To be completely honest…" He brushed the tips of his index and middle fingers across her cleavage. Teasingly and featherly. Eying his own movements. Scanning the patterns he drew all over the swell of her breasts. "And only because you're asking…"

He paused to glance into her eyes, then slid his tongue between his lips and looked back down to his hands. 

"I couldn't stop staring at these," he finally added. 

Maisy's skin tingled, and her insides quivered. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the way his fingers made her feel. Enjoying the fact that he'd been staring at her breasts. And enjoying even more the idea of him filling his hands with them and giving both a forceful squeeze. Shit. She swallowed. 

Her heart hammered in her ears, though, and her lungs didn't seem to keep up with so much information. She knew Harry could feel her chest moving up and down frenziedly under his touch, meaning that, once again, it would be impossible for her to hide how breathless he made her feel. 

So she would have to use it in her favor, instead.

Shifting on her feet, she leaned fully into the car and breathed in deeply, filling up her chest and pressing her cleavage briefly into his hands. Then, she exhaled through her nose, leaving Harry's fingers running over empty air. 

"And?" she asked, feeling herself taking control once again. "What's your verdict?" 

He peeked at her and took a step forward, fingers finding her again. "My verdict?" 

"Mhm. You like them?" 

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and nodded, letting her know he understood the question.

Focusing on one breast, he moved his index finger up and down, drawing a straight line, then repeating the process an inch or two to the side. 

"I think they're gorgeous," he said, connecting the two lines with a horizontal stroke. 

Maisy smiled. "Thanks. I think so, too."

Harry smiled, too, then moved to her other breast. "You do, huh?"

Once again, he traced two vertical lines, and connected them horizontally with a third one. 

"Mhmm…" 

"Can't see why you wouldn't." He reached her sides and drifted down, roaming through her ribcage. "Can't see why anyone wouldn't." 

He got past the exposed skin of her waist, then to the waistline of her pants.

"These are really nice, too." He sneaked four fingers between the fabric and her stomach, leaving only his thumb out as he grabbed onto the waistline and pulled her forward. Maisy gasped quietly, almost unnoticeable, stumbling on her feet while Harry skimmed his other hand down through her belly. "But I bet this one" —he tilted his chin down while she tilted her head up, and then he cupped between her legs, fully palming and covering her heat— "looks better." 

Maisy snorted, pressing herself into his touch. "Wouldn't you like to know?" 

Holding each other's gazes, they both smirked. 

Harry pushed his hand into her, backing her up and forcing her into the cold car while stepping forward. "Am I supposed to pretend I'm not dying to take your clothes off?" 

Maisy shrugged. "I mean, I would rather if you got right into it, but if you want to keep playing games…" 

Harry's smirk faded away. He rubbed his fingers up and down, making sure to stroke from one side to the other. Harsher. Fully. From her entrance, to her front. Just like he'd done earlier that day. But somehow even better.

Oh God. Maisy blinked, then moved her palms up to his arms, holding tightly onto him while flickering her eyes all over his face. 

Something had happened. 

There were no traces of playfulness or teasing anymore. No more smirks, no more cluelessness. No more fake oblivion. No more mulling over his words. 

Harry looked focused and determined. Sure of himself. And yet ready to crumble. 

"'M not playing games," he stated, touching her. Always touching her. "Would never play games with you."

Oh. The information clicked inside her mind, and she squeezed his arms. "I—I know."

She hadn't meant it like that, and she knew Harry wasn't messing around with her. He wouldn't do that. If he didn't want her, then he wouldn't be with her. Simply as that. 

"Good." He slid his foot between her boots and parted her legs, then spread them even wider with his knee. "Now, I'd really like to make you cum." 

Applying more pressure to his hand, he rubbed circles, just like she'd guided him earlier.

Ohh… Maisy fluttered her eyelids, then fully closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan and turning it into a soft whine, instead. 

"Can I make you cum, pretty girl?" 

Turning the corners of her mouth up, Maisy nodded. 

"Right here?" He moved faster. "Right now?" 

Oh God. She swallowed, then slid her tongue through her parted lips and glanced at him.

"I—Oh God—" The words flew out from her mind to her mouth, and she dropped her forehead to his chest. "Are there—Shit—Are there cameras here?" 

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Then—"

"We can barely afford light bulbs. Or so I've heard." 

"Oh my God," she chuckled, twisting his t-shirt inside her fingers as the feeling grew more and more intense with each stroke. "Shut up, and—Oh God… Just… Fuck."

"Yes?" he asked, the smile clear in his voice. 

She breathed in and out, heavily and loudly, and slid one hand from his arm to her own waist. Pulling away from his chest, she stared into his green eyes and unbuttoned her pants. 

"Touch me." And then, she unzipped them. "Now." 

Harry smirked. He looked around and over his shoulder, then stood by her side and pushed her further towards the front of the car, closer to the wall. Maisy sighed, and relaxed. It was good to know they were in sync. That no matter how much they wanted to do that, none of them got to the point of disrespecting each other's—or other people's—boundaries. 

And then, he sneaked his hand inside her pants, and every one of her worries and random thoughts vanished away. She focused on him, and on the things he did to her. She focused on the way he stood straighter and stretched his arm, then got in between the lace of her thong and the warmth of her skin. She focused on the way he stepped forward and relaxed his body into her side, too, throwing his free arm around her neck while angling his other forearm to get his fingertips past her hair, and right into her wet flesh. 

"Fuck."

"Fuck."

They looked at each other for a second, and then they both chuckled, simultaneously leaning in for a whole new kiss. 

"Fucking finally…" Harry mumbled. 

He dipped his middle finger between her folds and stroked it up and down, collecting her wetness and spreading it around. Maisy shivered, and her hips jerked forward, almost against her will. With a grunt, Harry pulled his hand off from her pants and broke the kiss, bringing his middle finger to his mouth and sucking it in. 

He closed his eyes when tasting her, and Maisy's body got on fire. Grabbing his t-shirt into fists, she pulled him closer, then licked her way around his jaw. Tasting whatever inch she could reach, and as much as she could, while he put his hand back inside her pants. 

"C'mere." He kissed her again, and dipped his fingers between her folds again. Stroking them up and down. Spreading her open. Getting to know every corner of her. 

Maisy sighed. She moved her hands, grabbing his neck, and his bicep, then let her body react to his wonderful, skillful fingers. His never stopping fingers. Stroking up and down, up and down. Rubbing circles. Pressing her clit. Rubbing her clit. So good. So, so good.

"Oh God." She leaned into him, moving her hips and searching for more friction. "Harry…" 

"Yeah?" 

More. She needed more. 

"Ugh," she practically whined, opening her eyes. "Touch me." 

"I am touching you."

She smacked his shoulder. "Then touch me more."

Harry laughed, then quickly kissed her again. He hunched slightly and pressed his middle finger inside her. Just barely, though, not even making it to his first knuckle before freezing and kissing the corner of her mouth.

"Like this?"

"More."

Half an inch forward. 

"Like this?" 

"Oh my God!" She grabbed his wrist, and glared at him. "I hate you so much right now!" 

He smiled, kissing her cheek, and her chin, then her mouth. "No you don't."

Maisy rolled her eyes. "I do, yes." 

"Hmmm." 

With half of his middle finger still inside her, he pressed one side of his hand on her clit, then went back to rubbing circles.

She let go of his wrist and placed both hands on his shoulders, then threw her head back and rolled her hips back and forth. 

"You said you'd make me cum…"

Keeping the steady movement of his hand, Harry kissed her cheek. 

"You're right, baby."

Baby.

Maisy throbbed between her legs, then squeezed her eyes shut. 

"I did say that," he added, and she huffed. 

"So make me, damnit."

"Alright baby," —he bent his knees, then pushed his middle finger deep inside her— "Alright."

Oh. 

Maisy moaned. 

He slid his hand and pushed his finger out. Then thrusted back inside. Curving it, he pressed it against her wall, searching for that spot that would drive her insane. When he found it,  Maisy's knees wobbled, and she melted into him.

"Oh God." She looked into his eyes, breathing from her mouth while he stared back at her. 

"Yeah?" Out. And in. Hitting into that same spot one more time. "Right there?"

She bit her lip, and nodded. "Mhmmm…" 

He pulled his lonely finger out, then pushed two inside. Aiming for that same delicious spot, over and over again. Making her feel good—so, so good. 

She held onto him, hypnotized as she watched the beautiful green of his eyes, and he threaded his free hand through her hair, pulling her till his lips were against her temple. Breathing into her while he worked his strong fingers inside her. Pumping so hard that she could hear her dripping wetness in the dead-silent parking lot. 

"God…" She bit her lip. "I dreamed about this for so long." 

"Yeah? Is it like you dreamed it would be?"

"Much… Much better." 

Harry sighed, then tightened the grip around her hair and tilted her face to the side. "C'mere." 

He kissed her firmly, then, connecting their lips and keeping them together while he tried his best to angle his arm and hit the spot hidden inside her. 

"Fuck…" She moaned into his mouth. "Can you… Oh God… Can you make it three?" 

He hunched down, wriggling inside her pants to adjust his hand. 

"Shit." He pulled away from her mouth and looked over his shoulder, then back at her. "Can't with these pants… And I don't want to undress you here…"

Maisy nodded. "Okay."

"Sorry." He pumped in and out again.

"It's—It's fine, I just… I need more." 

"Then I'll give you more." 

He pulled his fingers out and held her tightly with his palm, then spinned her body around. Pressing his chest to her back and hovering over her shoulder, he held her body firmly with his other arm, and proceeded to work between his legs. He pressed one finger to her clit and rubbed circles, gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his movements. The new position allowed him to relieve some of his own tension, too, rocking his hardening bulge against her ass. 

Maisy melted into his hold, throwing her arm up and around his neck and holding tightly onto him while moving her hips back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Fuck. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

That was so much better. 

Oh God.

He squeezed her tighter, keeping her in place while he made sure to give her everything she needed and wanted. More pressure, more speed. Kisses to her neck, and to her jaw. Breathing hotly into her ear.

"Yes, yes." She pulsed, throbbed, and quivered. "Oh God." 

Harry moved steadily, but faster. Pushing her further, and further.

"That's it, baby," he murmured into her ear. "That's it. C'mon."

He pushed her further and further. And even further. 

Until Maisy finally exploded, shuddered, and trembled. 

''Ah!" 

She fell forward, and Harry grabbed her. Pulling her upright, and driving her through her climax. Out of breath and numb, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed him. Silently begging for him to stop.

He complied and pulled his fingers away from her clit, soothing her and shushing her when she hissed. But then he removed his hand from her pants and automatically took it up to his mouth, licking and sucking the mess she'd made while humming next to her ear. As if she was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

Maisy moaned, almost painfully, holding onto his arm around her waist and instinctively drawing circles with her ass up and down his length. 

"Please. Please. Just take me upstairs now." 

— — — — —

The walk to the fourth floor happened in a rush. They didn't let go of each other while walking, nor stopped kissing or touching when they got inside the elevator. And by the time they were inside the living room, Harry's t-shirt was already on the floor and Maisy's boots were long forgotten by the door. 

They blindly guided each other around the furniture, kissing and touching while they unbuttoned each other's pants. Harry's were the first to get lost on the hallway, and Maisy didn't miss one second before feeling him up through his briefs. He grunted and sighed, chasing her mouth while encouraging her to take the rest of her clothes off. 

Maisy stumbled as they got inside his bedroom, and they both laughed, having to slow down and take a deep breath before moving on. But then she sat on the foot of the bed and Harry kneeled in front of her, going along with every single one of her movements and helping to undress her. 

He kissed her legs, and moved his lips up her body, losing himself with her scent when he nuzzled his nose between her legs. He kissed her on top of the laced thong, and then pulled the item off her body. He moved up, and they captured each other's mouths once again. Kissing, sucking, nibbling. He felt her up, and she felt him up. She squeezed him with her palm, and traced him with her fingers. He breathed in and out heavily from her mouth, too worked up to properly kiss her. And then she kissed his bottom lip, holding it and sucking it into her mouth as she slid into the elastic of his briefs and finally touched him. 

Harry moaned. So raw, manly, and helpless at the same time that it made her smile. 

She stroked him up and down, then. Up and down, up and down. He was full, firm, and hot under her hand. Rigid. Solid. His own neediness had already gotten him wet, but not enough for her hand to slide as smoothly as she would've liked, so she pulled it off and brought it to her mouth. 

Harry took the opportunity to take the last item off, his shaft hitting his stomach and making him hiss. He stroked himself, crawling over her body before diving into her neck. 

Maisy squirmed, and moaned. She searched for his hand, and once she grabbed it, she pulled it directly to her chest. 

"Want them in your mouth," she murmured, squeezing her breast with the help of his hand. 

Harry buckled his hips into hers, and cursed into her skin. He sat on his heels and brought her along by her arms, then pulled at the sleeves of his own shirt to take it off her body. 

"Tomorrow morning you're wearing this again," he said, holding up his shirt in his hand and then throwing it to the floor. "And I'm gonna fuck you in it." 

Maisy smiled. "Yes, sir." 

He sighed then shook his head, and she giggled. Lifting one arm, she unzipped her top with the other one. Harry helped her get rid of it, and then he was all over her body once again. Snuggling into her chest and parting his mouth to get a taste of her breast. Squeezing it into his hand and sucking it fervently. Nibbling her nipple, flickering his tongue. Sucking even more. 

"Bloody fucking gorgeous," he mumbled around her. 

"God, yes." She relaxed into the mattress, threading her hands into his hair and arching her body into his mouth. "Take more." 

He sucked deeper, unashamedly slurping as he drooled all over her skin and grinded against her hips. 

Maisy exploded with pure, raw, and wild need for him. She bent her knees and placed her feet on the bed, then spread her legs open. Stretching her arm between their bodies, she grabbed his length and pressed his tip between her folds, rubbing up and down her wetness. 

"Fuck." She moaned, rolling her hips up. 

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunted. "You're so fucking sexy."

He moved to her other breast, massaging the one he had just abandoned. Losing himself in her taste and squeezing her just as fiercely as he sucked her into his mouth. 

Fuck. Maisy really liked that. She really liked when men loved her breasts, but Harry being the one who sucked them into his mouth was mind-blowing. It made her feral. It drove her insane. 

"Hell yes." She moaned, and he moaned. 

She threaded her free hand around his curls and pressed him closer to her chest. Hoping to suffocate him with her breasts. "Keep going…" 

Harry hummed, drinking her in while writhing against her hand.

She scratched his scalp with one hand, and pressed him between her folds with the other. Rocking her hips back and forth while he got drunk on her. "Just like that…"

He searched for her hands, then, slotting their fingers together and sinking them onto the mattress while he devoured her entirely. Letting her breast go with a loud pop and moving immediately to her neck.

"I need you," he mumbled, spreading open-mouthed kisses to whatever he could reach. "Now. I need you now."

She hooked her legs around his waist, adjusting so he could roll and rub himself against her clit. "Mhmm… Please."

He bit her neck, and she dropped her head back, arching into him and squeezing his hands. 

"Condom," he mumbled. "I'll—Condom…" 

"Mhmm…" 

Maisy nodded, dropping her legs to the mattress, and Harry moved, stretching to open the drawer on the bed side table. She took the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his shoulder, tasting him slowly and fervently. He grunted, having trouble concentrating, but eventually grabbed a foil package and moved back to her mouth. 

He kissed her, then pulled away to tore the wrapper open with his teeth, and kissed her again. They moved together to put on the condom, always finding ways to keep meeting for tender and lazy kisses. Once he was ready, Maisy shuffled on his bedsheets and made herself comfortable, watching as he slotted between her legs and then crawled to place one elbow next to her head.

Holding himself with one arm and looking into her eyes, he took one hand down and grabbed himself. 

She hugged his neck, and he teased his tip around her clit, then tapped it twice against her entrance. 

Maisy hissed, and Harry grunted.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, guiding himself inside her body. "I really, really hope I last."

Maisy laughed, and he smiled. And then they kissed. 

She instantly hooked her legs around his waist, resting her heels above his bum and encouraging him to get closer. To go deeper. To fill her. 

Kissing. 

Panting. 

Moaning. 

Shivering. 

Maisy squeezed her eyes together, feeling the burn of the first stretch. And Harry kissed her again. Maybe trying to sooth her. Or maybe because he just couldn't stay away.

"You good?" he asked, caging her head between his forearms. 

"Yeah…" She licked her lips, and blinked. "So good."

"Can I fuck you like this?" he asked. "Wanna see you."

She nodded. "Whatever you want. Just fuck me already." 

Harry chuckled, then rolled his hips, sliding in and out slowly, just to test the waters. 

"Whatever I want?"

Maisy sighed, and nuzzled her hands into his curls. "Yes. Whatever you want."

In… 

And out… 

"In that case," he said. "Wanna fuck you like this tonight."

In… 

And out… 

"And want you to ride me tomorrow."

Maisy smiled. 

In… 

And out… 

"Wearing your shirt?" she asked. 

"Fuck yes." 

In… 

He brushed the side of his nose with hers, and smiled, too. "Nothing but my shirt." 

And out… 

In… 

She nodded. "Mkay…" 

And out…  

"Hmmm."

In…  

And out…

"We'll have…" he started, then kept going as he followed the affectionate and sensual pace of his hips. "The rest… Fuck… Of our lives… To try… Different… Positions… Anyway… Yeah?"

Maisy smiled again. "The rest of our lives, huh?" 

In…

Harry kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. "Too cliché?"

And out… 

She shook her head. "I like the sound of it." 

"Yeah… Me too."

In… 

And out… 

In… 

And out… 

"Fuck," he growled.  

Picking up the pace, he held his weight firmly onto his forearms, then moved his hips and focused on thrusting into her. In and out, in and out, in and out. Faster. And deeper. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

Maisy whimpered and squeezed her arms around his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as he built a frantic pace. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

In and out. 

"Took me all this… Shit… All this time to figure it out," he mumbled. "I'm not—Fuck—I'm not letting you go now."

She arched her back, and sank her nails into his back. "I'm not going anywhere." 

He smashed their mouths together. Rocking his hips into her. Pounding into her. Faster. Deeper. The bed knocked into the wall. And their skin smacked together. 

Hell yes.

So good. 

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

So fucking good.

Loud. 

Desperate. 

Needy. 

Hungry. 

Feral. 

"C'mon baby…" he mumbled around her lips, then took one hand down to her waist. "C'mon…"

More. More. More.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Deep. Deep. Deep. 

"Y—Yeah… Right—Shit. Right there… Oh my God… Keep going… Keep going…"

"You're so loud," Harry chuckled, squeezing her waist and keeping up the reckless pace. "Fucking… Love… It… Fuuuck."

Maisy gasped. She scrunched up her face, and gripped his ass with both hands. 

"More… I need… More…"

"Jesus Christ…" Still holding his weight with one arm, he let go of her waist and moved between her legs, then rubbed her swollen clit. "Like that?"

"Fuck yes. Yes. Oh God, Harry… Harry… Oh God… Yes."

"C'mon then… C'mon… Let me see you…" 

She moaned loudly, crying out as her walls spasmed and contracted around him and all the tension snapped at once, causing her body to tremble from head to toe. 

"Fuck—" Harry closed his eyes. "Isy— Shit…  I'm… Isy… Fuck." 

He shattered on top of her, pulsing inside her walls as he emptied himself inside the condom and went still with each— 

last— 

fucking— 

thrust. 

"Fuuuuuck."

He held himself and pulled out, then finally collapsed into her. 

.

.

.

Beats of silence went by. Deafening silence. A silence they hadn't ever shared before. Not in five years of friendship. Not with anyone else they'd ever been up until then. A silence that enveloped both of them naturally, that gave them time to recollect their thoughts and catch up their breaths. And a silence that, after another couple of beats, got them both rolling in bed and laughing out loud. 

"Oh my God…" 

Maisy hid behind her hands, feeling the mattress sink as he got up and got rid of the condom. Although she didn't want to, she followed his steps, going to the bathroom and cleaning herself up. 

Moments later, when she walked back into his bedroom, she found Harry laying in bed, wearing clean briefs and waiting for her. 

"C'mere," he said, patting the place next to him.

She curled her lips into a smile and practically ran to him, jumping into his bed and snuggling into his side. 

"Jesus Christ Isy…"  Harry pulled her naked body to himself, sneaking one arm under her neck and sliding the other one around her waist. "I'm so happy and also so fucking mad right now."

"What?" She placed one hand on his chest and hooked one leg around his waist. "Why are you mad?" 

"Because!" He laughed. "Can't believe you've been hiding this side from me all this time."

"Hmm… No I haven't."

"Yes, you have."

"No, because I don't even have a side to hide!"

"You totally do. All loud… Chatty… Bossy…"

"That's not true."

"It isss tho…" 

"Oh, shut up." 

"Exactly!" He laughed even louder, then forced his voice in a poor attempt of mimicking her. "Shut up Harry. Touch me Harry. Fuck me Harry. More Harry. I need more Harry. More Har—Ouch! Heyyyy!"

Maisy let go of his nipple, then slapped his chest. "Stop being stupid!"

"Will you stop fucking pinching me?" he asked, smacking his palm loudly against her ass. 

"Shit!" she yelped and laughed, jolting closer to his body. 

"You like it rough, don't you?" he added right after, then pinched right under her bum. 

"Harry!" Laughing louder, she squirmed inside his arms. "Stop!" 

"You like it rough, and you're filthy." 

"Oh my God." Maisy rolled her eyes, catching her breath between all the laughing. "So? What's wrong with that? Huh?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Well, then stop judging!" 

"I'm not—What? I'm not!" He shuffled, staring into her eyes and caressing her cheek. "Are you kidding me? I fucking love it!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Mhmm… Sure." 

Harry shook his head, and smiled. "Don't be silly… It's just… I don't know, but it felt different, y'know? Like… Fucking great sex… But not just like… The sex, sex, y'know? Everything about it… I don't know. I guess I just never had something like this before… Just… So fun and fucking hot at the same time… Y'know what I mean?"

Maisy bit her lip, and nodded. She cradled his cheek and moved closer, then pulled him in for a slow, sweet, and long, long kiss. 

"Yeah," she whispered, pecking his mouth one more time and sliding her hand to the back of his head. "I know exactly what you mean."

Harry grunted softly. 

"See?" He squeezed her bum. "And you been keeping this away from me! All this time!"

Maisy rolled her eyes—for what felt like the hundredth time. "Okay. Have you thought that maybe, maybe, if you had made a move on me instead of pulling up random girls at bars, you would've known sooner?"

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again. 

"You're right." He rested his forehead against hers and nodded. Then, he smiled. "Thank God my girl's got attitude, huh?" 

Maisy bit her lip and smiled, too.  

But then, she grinned. So big she even giggled.

"Your girl, huh?"

"Mhmmm…" He caressed her side. "If you want to be, of course."

"Am I going to be the only one?" 

He pulled away, then looked firmly into her eyes. "I want you to be, yes. I want to do this properly. Wanna be with you. Only you. No-one else."

She threaded her fingers around the curls in the back of his head, then stroked his scalp with soft circles. 

"I wanna be with you, too. Want you to be mine."

He smiled, and shrugged. "Already am. All yours."

"Good." She kissed him. "No more being just friends, then…" 

"Fuck no!" He laughed, and pulled her in for another kiss. Then, he murmured into her lips, "Fuck that shit. We were never just friends, anyway." 

[alonetimelover]

pairing: Harry Styles x booktuber!reader

summary: A new series on ynrecommends channel on YT called Celebrity Book Club grabbed Harry's attention. Now, they are simply joined at the hip. As friends. Right?

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yourinstagram

liked by harryupdates, yourbestfriend and 17 291 others

yourinstagram hello! i started a new series on my YouTube channel - celebrity book club! my first victim was the one and only - Harry Styles. he has an... interesting library to recommend. click the link in bio if you want to watch me gush over harry, new bookshop I found and the best coffee ive ever made!! byeee, xx

also, you harries are too good with photoshop. i was sure he was reading book lovers...

view all 2 302 comments

yourbestfriend bestie gettin' famous!!!!

⤷ yourinstagram i knew it was a bad idea to listen to you...

⤷ yourbestfriend people need to know how great of a booktuber and reader you are

harryupdates that's a great video! i immediately subscribed to your channel!

⤷ yourinstagram thank you! I hope you'll find something for yourself there, xx

user22 came here from yt! fantastic video

user39 your editing skills are amazing!!

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, yourinstagram and 34 402 others

harryupdates yn from ynrecommends on yt did a video where she read all the books that Harry has ever recommended. she is hilarious, very sweet, and absolutely clever. watch it when you have some spare time, you won't be disappointed!!

view all 5 201 comments

hArrysbtch ive been watching her videos for months!!! thank god she finally gets the spotlight she deserves

⤷ harrysmoustache does she (like most of the booktubers) sugar-coat everything or she's just blunt?

⤷ hArrysbtch oh she's super down to earth! she also does those instagram lives where she talks about the latest book(s) she's read. super funny and laid back

⤷ harrysmoustache oh, thank god! i was looking for someone like that! im diving into her channel right now!

yourinstagram thank you so much! thanks to you, you harries are flooding my socials!! (im not complaining) xx

⤷ harryupdates can't wait for another video!

harryshoee she's so beautiful, too! and loves cats!

harrysmylife "harry, if you ever watch it, let's pretend you guys, if you ever watch it, i recommend you diving into Toshikazu Kawaguchi" she has TASTE, let me tell you

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harrymylove

liked by harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 22 301 others

harrymylove I'VE MET HARRY YESTERDAY!!!! look at him and my doggy Bart. i still can't process it...

view all 3 301 comments

hArrysbtch how was it???

⤷ harrymylove it was so lovely! he was kind enough to take a photo and talk with me for a while!

⤷ hArrysbtch what did you talk about? pls spill the tea

⤷ harrymylove im an English major so i asked him about some book recommendations. he answered with "i didn't have much time to read anything new recently. but was recommended and just bought Toshikazu Kawaguchi's books, so maybe this author"

hArrysbtch Kawaguchi???? after yn recommend that to him in a video???? he watched her video??? yourinstagram

harrysmoustache I've just started reading 'before the coffee gets cold' and looooove it!!

harryupdates do we think he actually watched yn's video?

⤷ hArrysbtch i hope so!

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrymylove and 45 302 others

harryupdates HARRY'S official YT channel left a comment on ynrecommends latest video!!

view all 6 401 comments

hArrysbtch that bish said 'let me break the internet and use me fuckin phone'

hArrysbtch unbelievable...

harrymylove he watched the video that's why he recommended me Kawaguchi... im melting

harrysmoustache i hope that he loves it as much as i did!!!

harrysmylife 'love, h xx' let me go cry in the corner

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yourinstagram

liked by yourbestfriend, harrystyles and 67 492 others

yourinstagram hopefully, this date will be successful

view all 9 201 comments

yourbestfriend was it?

⤷ yourinstagram after a couple glasses of wine, we moved to the bedroom

⤷ yourbestfriend STOP

⤷ yourinstagram never praise a ford till you get over...

harrystyles Assuming it wasn't successful, do you have any dates free?

⤷ yourinstagram i'll need to check my calendar, although i only attend when coffee (or wine) and good books are provided

⤷ harrystyles Done.

⤷ yourinstagram i'll think about it 🫣

harryupdates oh those are so tricky!!!

hArrysbtch stop, i also had an awful blind date with a book...

⤷ yourinstagram that's the worst! i just need to read the synopsis and thena few pages to decide if I want to buy it

harrysmoustache why is nobody talking about harry being in the comment section??? ASKING HER OUT??? who is this man??? what's happening

⤷ user93 well, it's clearly not him typing or even controlling it! the managmet took it over long ago!

⤷ harrysmoustache and they say im delulu...

harrysmylife SHUT UP !!! avtivrry is my favourite harry, like??? what do you mean he can type the comment? the flirty one? the one asking a girl out? like???

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harrystyles via close friends IG stories

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, harryupdates and 4 292 294 others

harrystyles 11.08.2023 📚

view all 23 292 comments

yourinstagram you did not buy them just for yourself

⤷ harrystyles Wouldn't you like to know 😎

harryupdates Well-read king that we stan

hArrysbtch I'm connecting the dots here

harrysmylife welcome back 2013 Harry, how have you been?

harrysfan83 since that girls yt video, he became obsessed with books...

⤷ harrymylove it's called getting a crush on somebody

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hArrysbtch

liked by harryupdates and 4 492 others

hArrysbtch sooo, this is a still from yn's latest video... that stack of books looks awfully familiar to the one that Harry posted a week or so ago... coincidence? i don't think so. plus!!!! she did say she didn't spend a penny on those books

view all 928 comments

harrysmoustache if they are together, i feel like the fandom would love her

⤷ hArrysbtch i would hope so!

harrysmylife relationship, friendship or whatever -ship it is, im here for itttt

user94 y'all are really reaching now...

harryupdates it's the way she was glowing in that video for me! she looked so happy

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yourinstagram

liked by hArrysbtch, harrystyles and 76 301 others

yourinstagram when they read your recommendations>>>

view all 8 492 comments

hArrysbtch now let him play patroclus in a movie, i dare you Hollywood

⤷ harrysmoustache who would you choose as Achilles??

⤷ hArrysbtch you know what? let him be Achilles and Timothee would be Patroclus

⤷ harrysmylife this adaptation with this casting would cure me, for real

harrysmoustache he's in his lover era

harrystyles I love reading your copies of books with all the 'cute' and 'slay' and 'I LOVE THEM'.

⤷ yourinstagram it's called active reading

⤷ harrystyles No, its not.

⤷ yourinstagram party pooper

yourbestfriend thanks for inviting me!!!

⤷ harrystyles Do yo want to join us?

⤷ yourbestfriend I knew I liked you for a good reason

harrysfan45 so she is the girl from those pap photos

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harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache, stylesbabie and 87 392 others

harryupdates HARRY taking photos of YN in Italy!!

view all 7 302 comments

hArrysbtch melting

harrysmoustache what in the world...

stylesbabie i know exactly what that photo is focusing on

⤷ user42 what?

⤷ stylesbabie (•) (•)

⤷ harrysmoustache in the wise words of Steve Harrington: BOOBIES

harrysmylife so they are dating

⤷ user93 no one confirmed it

⤷ harryupdates good luck with waiting for Harry, confirming that he is/isn't in a relationship

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, yourbestfriend and 291 492 others

yourinstagram the promised vlog is up on my channel! grab some good drink and a snack for a quick talk about being single, vulnerability, loving your friends more than anything and - of course - some good books I've read in Italy!!!

view all 16 302 others

harrystyles I see the similarities between pictures 3 and 4

⤷ yourinstagram well, one is a cute little creature and the other is a sweet creature

⤷ harrystyles Good one.

hArrysbtch best vlog I've ever watched!!! Good job!

harrysmoustache being single??? what do you mean? i was rooting for you...

⤷ stylesbabie ...we were all rooting for you

harryupdates great recommendations as always!!! my tbr is growing with each of your video

celebrityupdates Single? Our sources are saying quite otherwise!

⤷ user56 spill the tea!!!!

⤷ celebrityupdates Link in bio to all the things you need to know about this romance!

⤷ harrysmylife it's like a man and a woman cannot be friends

⤷ hArrysbtch here we go again...

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a/n: do we want to see more of them?

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sharks III

Meadema x Child!Reader

Summary: You and Mama come back from the aquarium

"I have news!" Mummy says as you and Mama come through the door.

"So do I!" Mama replies.

You waddle in after her, holding all of your new presents.

"Sarina called me up!"

"Liefje called me Mama!"

"I've got a new shark!" You exclaim just so you can be included.

"You got called up?" Mama asks.

"She called you Mama?" Mummy asks back.

Suddenly, you're crushed between them both, kisses raining down upon your head. You soak in the affection and go limp when Mummy twirls you around.

"Mummy and Mama!" Mummy declares.

"And me!"

"And you!"

Mummy buys takeout for dinner to celebrate. You don't understand why you're celebrating (Mummy going back to England Camp and Mama being Mama isn't special) but you're happy to eat food you normally don't get to.

At the end of dinner, you end up sitting on the floor with your toy chest. Mama got you a bunch of new ones at the aquarium so you have to introduce them to your old toys.

"Viv," Beth says fondly with an eye roll," You didn't need to get her that much. You're spoiling her."

"She deserves to be spoiled," Viv says in reply," She's a very impressive little girl."

"She told you all her shark facts, didn't she? Every time I think she's run out, she comes out with more."

"It's impressive," Viv insists as they both watch you introduce your stuffies to the shark action figure you've just got," She's very smart."

"She's sensitive," Beth confesses," I think she likes sharks better than people."

Viv pulls Beth into her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to keep her close. "There's nothing wrong with that. As long as she's got friends."

"Keira and Lucy's peanut," Beth replies," Is probably her only proper friend. They get on really well. It's strange though, they're so different but they balance each other out."

"That's good. I think you worry too much, Beth. She's a great kid. You've done so well."

Beth's face goes a bit red at the praise and she interlinks their hands. "We're going to do a great job with her."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

You turn your head when you're done playing with your toys. "Mummy," You say," Me and Mama saw a cookie cutter shark today! It was so cool!"

"Oh, really?" Mummy reaches down to pull you up onto her lap," Do you like cookie cutters?"

"They're my second favourite!" You declare," My most favourite is goblin sharks!"

Beth has to suppress the shiver at the mention of the goblin shark. The toy Viv got you practically lives on your bed and it was terrifying to see every night when she tucked you in. It was her least favourite of your toys but she didn't have the heart to throw it out and pretend the washing machine ate it.

"Oh, wow," She says instead," Well, have you got a cookie cutter at home?"

You shake your head and pout. "No."

"Should we get you one?"

"It can live on my bed!" You say," With my goblin!"

Viv laughs a little, like she knows something that Beth doesn't. "We'll get you a cookie cutter shark, liefje."

Beth whips out her phone to buy a cookie cutter plushie and immediately wishes that she hadn't offered. It's nearly as ugly as a goblin shark and it makes her a little sick to the stomach to see it, first in plush form and then the actual creature.

But, the big happy smile on your face and the way you press a kiss to her cheek and then Viv's, means that Beth can forget all about her horror as she sets a day for it to be sent to the house.

[coraniaid]

The scene where Willow confronts Faith is Choices is kind of fascinating to me, because ... well.

I like Choices quite a lot, and I think Willow's dislike of Faith is perfectly understandable and in character (and her speech has some fun but probably not intentional foreshadowing for later seasons), but it's hard not to notice that the narrative expects you to be rather more unambiguously on Willow's side than I think is really warranted.

I mean, Willow might not have been the most popular girl in high school, but she has multiple close friends, a nice boyfriend, a stable [and fairly comfortably middle-class] home life, she "represents the pinnacle of achievement in Sunnydale High" in the words of her school's principal, she's trusted enough to teach at the school, in a year she'll be able to go to any college she wants (and, unlike some people, she can afford to go anywhere she wants), she used to hack into government computer databases (before she ever met Buffy!) and now she's teaching herself dark magic "for fun" and she hasn't [yet] ever suffered any real repercussions for either of those things.

On the other hand, from what little we hear about Faith's past we know she grew up poor and that her mother used to get drunk and beat her, that she didn't have any friends and dropped out of high school young, she is very strongly implied on multiple occasions to have been the victim of some pretty horrific abuse before being called as a Slayer, and after being called as a Slayer she got to watch the one adult who ever told her she mattered get killed horribly in front of her before fleeing across the country to a town where she doesn't know anybody, still has no friends, doesn't have a job or go to school and lives alone in a motel in the bad part of town. And when she accidentally killed a man, while trying to do the whole slaying vampires thing she's supposed to be doing, the Watcher's Council -- who never actually bothered to send her a new Watcher of her own -- decided to have her abducted and dragged away to England [a fate which surely nobody deserves].

Yet a part of Willow clearly thinks (and almost outright says) "oh, well, yeah, but she hangs out with Buffy sometimes when I don't get to and she slept with the guy -- not my nice boyfriend! -- who I used to have a crush on (and who I was briefly cheating on said boyfriend with), so it's clearly impossible to say which of us really had things worse and I don't need to feel sorry for her". And -- again, while this is great characterisation for Willow -- it's kind of hard not to notice that the writers think she has a compelling point.

Yes, sure, Faith has defected to working for the Mayor and has a knife drawn on Willow this scene (she's not anything like a blameless victim at this point of the story) and it takes a certain level of physical bravery for Willow to stand up for herself despite that. But ... I mean, come on. "You had friends like Buffy" is only true if you accept it to mean "you had exactly one friend, who was Buffy". "It's way too late" for Faith to seek forgiveness ... how many people has Faith killed at this point? One, by mistake? Giles has killed more people than that. "Some people think you had a lot of bad breaks?" Yeah, actually in Faith's shoes I'd want to hit Willow after she said that too.

I realize that part of the show's central thesis -- something that explicitly came up as recently as Earshot -- is the idea that everybody, regardless of how comfortable their life might seem from the outside, has their own sorrow and pain and (only occasionally metaphorical) demons to fight. But while that's not entirely wrong, it's also ... not entirely complete? Everyone has it bad sometimes, but some people really do have it worse than others. Pretending otherwise is ... not a serious position to take.

Willow's life could be better, but she's not gone through anything like Faith has. I'd argue she literally can't imagine how bad Faith's life has been. She really doesn't have as much moral authority as the show's writers think she has at this point.

[Compare this part of Season 3 with the first half of Season 6, when the show is overflowing with sympathy for Willow's abrupt descent into magic addiction but has no sympathy at all for Amy Madison, whose own magic addiction is just implied to be because she's inherently a Bad Person who Willow needs to avoid and whose own horrific past and abusive mother and complete lack of support system is just entirely forgotten about. Or, indeed, to the weird take of Dead Man's Party, which has Buffy apologize to Willow for ... what? Having problems of her own that don't revolve around Willow? Being too busy mourning the loss of everything she ever cared about to tell Willow how uniquely special and amazing she was for learning rudimentary magic? Not being grateful enough for Willow restoring Angel's soul without bothering to ask Buffy if that was something she still wanted her to try?]

So, the overall effect is ... yeah, it's a good scene. But it's almost a good scene despite the writer's intentions, not because of them. It's much less of an ambiguously triumphant moment for WIllow than I believe we're meant to read it as.

[thequeenofthedisneyverse]

can we have villain kenji dating headcanons please😞🙏

Oh boy...well, I can try

Villain! Kenji x Fem reader

Mentions of blood, fighting (not with you), and death/character death (not you), you being morally grey...and Kenji being a simp.

He's a complete sweetheart to you and WORSHIPS the ground you walk on. Ever heard of a feminist nut-case? It's him. He respects you wholeheartedly and sees you for you because his mama raised him right.

Super gentle and a soft-talker with you. You're...actually the ONLY person he's like this around. To everyone else, arrogant prick x10 on a regular basis.

He likes to cuddle you after a long day and whisper sweet-nothings into your ear. "I missed you so much" "I love you so much, baby" "stay with me, please" cue the cutest goo goo eyes you've ever seen. How could you say no to him?

This man doesn't know when to stop gifting so whenever he even THINKS about something you would like you better prepare for there to be a box of whatever product it is on your doorstep.

Gamer girl? New gaming equipment in your favorite color. Book girl? New books on your doorstep. Baker, artist, crafter? All of it on your doorstep.

You ask for something? Consider it done. You LOOK at something in the mall? It's yours.

If he thinks a certain outfit would look good on you or he finds a certain candy, you like? All yours...just please don't leave him.

Ken lets you ride on his motorcycle from time to time. He prefers you in the back with your arms wrapped around him because it's a comforting feeling, not to mention safe. But if you want, he'll let you sit in the front but it's rare.

A guy cat-called you once while Kenji was there with you. Yeah uh...that guy was sent to the hospital. It was the first time you've ever seen him so...angry. You've heard rumors of Kenji's temper but seeing as he was so sweet to you, you just thought the rumors were just...rumors.

That was until you literally had to pull him off the guy so he wouldn't kill him. Seriously, he was strangling him after punching him in the face 10 times.

It was...kind of hot to be fair.

Kenji's hair was disheveled, his nose bleeding, and a fiery look in his eyes. And you found his act of rage a little sweet. If he was willing to strangle a guy for just catcalling you, what would he do if a guy touched you?

You then realized you found a good guy who's willing to stand up for you! Albeit a bit crazy, but still a good guy.

After his anger went away, the soft side of him came back and apologized to you profusely.

"I- I'm so sorry baby, p- please don't leave! Y- You were never supposed to see that side of me, shit! I'm a good guy I promise I am! He...he just, he deserved it! He shouldn't have been talking to you like that! You're a princess to me baby, a queen! And you deserve to be treated like one...please don't leave me..."

He meant every word of it girl...every. last. word. Especially the "don't leave me" parts.

Before you came along, Kenji was alone. So utterly alone. His beloved mother was dead. His father....ugh (don't even get him started on that). No friends or relatives to talk to or come by. One-night stands didn't do anything except a couple seconds of bliss.

So, like I said, so completely and utterly alone.

But when you came along...you changed that. An angel from the heavens that chose him to spend their time with.

This man would let the world burn if it meant to save your life. He doesn't like people very much anyway.

He introduced you to Lillith, his black IBM female boa. Let's pretend you like snakes.

Snake ahead, TRIGGER WARNING

You find her absolutely adorable and sweet. She likes you a lot too! You let her hang around your neck or arm when Kenji brings her too your dates or when you hang out at his house.

Kenji loves that his two favorite girls are getting along. He has many pictures of you two chilling in his phone and looks at them from time to time to actually feel something other than anger or nothing while he's out.

You brought back a light in him that he thought had died a long time ago. A reason to live...well, apart from baseball, killing Kaiju's, and ruining his father's legacy of course.

Fancy dining places are a must. You can't blame the man for want to wine and dine you...and showing you off to the press a little bit.

Hmmm...you found it odd that the guy that cat-called you hasn't pressed charges or uttered a peep about what ken did to him. You understood why the news hadn't caught footage of the incident tho.

It happened late at night when you and Kenji were coming out of a bar. It had been raining that night and most of the lights went out due to the water getting to the electricity.

So, it would be hard for the cameras to pick up faces very well due to the darkness and most of them circuiting out too.

But it was so strange...nothing from him.

You got your answer when you turned the news on though.

The guy that cat-called you was found dead in a trash bin next to the EXACT same bar you had your date with Kenji. Ishima Agama was his name.

He seemed to have suffered horrible lacerations, burns, severed limbs, and much other nasty things.

His death...didn't bother you though. You figured Kenji must've done it. I mean...who else would've done it? It only happened two weeks after Kenji pummeled him, and it was in the exact same place it beat his ass.

You always trusted your gut and your gut says it's Kenji. But instead of seeing this as a red flag, you saw it as a green one!

He killed for you just because of a cat-calling degenerate. That's the nicest thing a guy has ever done for you!

After dating for about a year or so, he told you that he was Ultraman! Which...is the coolest freaking thing ever!

He saved Japan from Kaiju's countless of times! So, what if his methods were a little violent? The Kaiju's were too. That's how violent animals were supposed to be treated right? Either with sedatives or brute force.

He was so confused as to why you were so cool with it but as you explained your reasons...he knew you were a keeper.

After that little adventure he introduced you to the idea of Kaiju meat. Something Kenji has tailored to him and a few other rich people (let's pretend Kaiju's don't have radiation). Turns out the KDF also sells a few cutlets of meat to a few rich folks who want a taste of a rare "delicacy" meat.

It's actually quite good when it's cooked and served right, better that wagyu.

Sooo, yeah, you two lovebirds get along great!

His anger issues, arrogance, or murderous tendencies to affect you because you love him for who he is...and for the fact that he never acts that way toward you.

That's all I've got, if you guys want anything more specific, lmk!

[steddieas-shegoes]

someday soon

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is having hope for the future'

rated t | 1,237 words | cw: ptsd, injury recovery, negative view of self (Steve) | tags: angst with a happy ending, getting together, hurt/comfort, falling in love

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Steve ignored his bat bites for too long.

That's what all the doctors and nurses said when he'd been rushed into the ER by Robin, panicked when he passed out and woke up with very little memory of what they'd done that day.

She assumed it was the concussions catching up to him, but it turned out to be a hell of an infection. The infection had spread from the worst bite on his side to his hip and down his leg. They caught it in time to save the leg, but it would be weak for months, if not years, and he'd need to do physical therapy to keep the muscle dense enough to walk.

Everyone was pissed at him, but mostly just happy he was finally getting taken care of. That was a difficult thing for him.

Eddie joked that it was his turn to keep him company in the hospital now, but Steve wasn't up for jokes. Not when he'd become such a burden. Not when he was pulling attention from things and people that actually needed it. He was using up resources that were already barely available for people much worse off than him.

When he was finally fever-free, showing signs of improvement, and promising to keep taking the antibiotics for two more weeks, he was set free. Eddie and Robin brought him to Eddie's trailer to ensure he would actually take care of himself, and he didn't have the heart to argue with either of them.

He felt ridiculous, every single time he got stuck on the couch because his leg was too numb to stand, every time Wayne would grab whatever thing he couldn't quite reach from the top shelf of the cabinet because he couldn't stand on both of his tip toes, whenever Eddie would half-carry him to the shower and wait by the door in case he fell on his bad days. It was all so stupid. He was stupid.

He spent his days doing what he was supposed to, but only the bare minimum. He did the exercises, but only alone in Eddie's room while he was busy at work or picking up Steve's slack. He took the meds when he was in pain instead of "suffering in silence" like Robin told him to. He packed Wayne's lunches for work as a thank you for letting him stay even though Wayne always insisted he didn't need to do anything to deserve a roof over his head and people to care.

He ignored the stupid churning in his stomach that started when he thought about what would happen when Eddie brought him back to his empty house. He ignored the butterflies every time Eddie got home while he was faking sleep on the couch and covered him with the blanket that was by his feet. He ignored the way his heart fluttered every time Eddie would make him the tea he secretly liked instead of the coffee he normally forced himself to drink.

He pretended that the love that grew in his chest was made up, that Eddie was only doing what any friend would do.

Steve only let his imagination run away with him on the nights when Eddie was at Hellfire late, when he was curled up in Eddie's bed at Eddie's insistence that he sleep there. He let himself picture a future like this: waiting up for Eddie to get home from work or a show, curled up with a pillow that smelled like him against his chest, wearing a t-shirt that had holes from being worn too much, and the mixtape Eddie made for Steve playing low in the background.

It was a perfect future.

He fell asleep to the thought of Eddie's arms around him, holding him because he wanted to, not because he had to.

He woke up to Eddie's arms around him, the dark and silent room around him making him panic until Eddie's grip tightened and he pulled him closer.

"You awake?" Eddie whispered against the top of his head.

"Yeah." Steve didn't pull away, couldn't make himself even though the alarms were going off in his brain telling him to put space between them before Eddie realized what this meant to him. "When'd you get back?"

"Hour ago maybe. Didn't mean to run so late, sorry," Eddie's fingers were tracing patterns up and down his spine.

"It's okay. You can do whatever you want," Steve let himself have this moment. He nudged his face further into Eddie's shirt, smiling at the warmth of his chest. "You sleep at all yet?"

"No, I was busy."

Steve's brows furrowed in confusion. "Doing what?"

"Watching you."

Steve turned his head so he was looking up at him. "Watching me sleep? Why the hell were you doing that?"

He should probably sound more upset, maybe more concerned about being watched while he was unconscious. But a pretty big part of him was fine with it, wanted it, hoped it meant more to Eddie too.

"The corner of your mouth twitches a lot in your sleep, did you know that? And when you're in pain or having a nightmare, it stops. Sometimes I just watch to make sure you're sleeping okay," he answered simply. "Been at least a few nights since you've had any nightmares right?"

Steve nodded, speechless at the fact that Eddie had noticed something like that.

"You curl the blanket in your hand when you sleep, too. Or my shirt. Sometimes your own shirt if you can't find anything else," Eddie continued.

Steve felt his fingers loosen in Eddie's shirt, not having noticed the way they'd been holding on for dear life this entire time.

Eddie's hand covered his, squeezing something that felt like reassurance and love right into his skin.

"You're not the same Steve you used to be, but you still worry about what people think. You can just be you. Just be Steve. I promise the Steve you are is the Steve we love," Eddie smiled down at him.

"I-" Steve took a breath. "I just don't wanna ruin it all."

"Stevie, sweetheart." Eddie shook his head. "You couldn't ruin it. When are you gonna get it through that thick head of yours that we're all stickin' this out with you?"

"But you don't have to."

"No, we don't." Eddie squeezed his hand again. "But we do. And we will."

"Even if I'm always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Recovering. Having nightmares. Scared. Robin says I might be depressed? I'm probably gonna limp forever."

"Stevie, look at me," Eddie said, tilting his face back towards him. Steve hadn't even realized he'd turned away so much. "I love you. Okay?"

"You do?"

"Do you think I notice what other people's lips do when they're sleeping?"

Steve snorted. "No, I guess not."

"I love you and sometimes that might mean I have to deal with your shit, but I want to, okay? It won't always be this much shit. I can hold your hand through it," Eddie smiled. "Now, you should go back to sleep."

"You didn't kiss me yet," Steve said around a yawn.

"We've got plenty of time for it, sweetheart. Go to sleep."

Steve believed him.

He knew it would still be shit. He knew he wouldn't always believe what Eddie said. He knew he'd still feel like a burden.

But they had time to wade through it together.

[missmarveledsblog]

The one ( Bucky barnes x reader odindotter)

summary : just the grumpy teddy bear bucky pinning after thor sister that's been there through everything  

warning: none , Bucky being a cutie , John walker being an ass , sam being the best wing man , mutual pining

One person , one singular person was all he wanted to see after it all . after the blip , the war against the mad tyrant and yet he was now staring at the face of a man he loathed , one who didn't deserve to hold the shield his best friend and brother had for a century. John walker stood an ego based attention hog who had the wrong morals and ideal that steve would generally cringe at . even with all this their was one person that occupied his mind , one that could truly make sense of all the craziness that he was now landed in. He walked as johns chest puffed out appearing to make himself so much bigger that he was , the words spilling from his mouth all bullshit and that thing he pass of as charm well a bag of rocks could do better and possibility even smarter . Bucky came to see her , knowing she was the only one that could truly understand what it is like to be in a place so alien and having those feeling of they didn't feel they belong in a sense. She could of been in new asgard with the rest of her people but she like this strange place. What made it funnier was he was actually of this planet and same time if someone told him it was mar or some shit he would actually believe them because still even after everything this didn't feel like earth . He watched her pretending to care , even the scowl of annoyance that grace her face that would of had loki proud. "So i think that why cardio is so important" john finished off the suggestable comment . " you know my brother would love to hear stuff like this" she smiled letting the poor mans hope rise. " although i find it all a bit boring more into the intellect of everything" her head tilted she had the man like a mouse on a string . " i mean yeah science of things but at the end of the day brawn defeat the brain" he chuckled . " i'm a goddess your brawn wouldn't tire me nor my brain" she rolled her eyes clearly done with the conversation scanning the room . " i bet i could tire you out" he winked . " the only way you could tire me out is too keep talking because it kinda putting me asleep" she fake a yawn before adding the stretching her arms to prove her point . " wow you really add to the bitchy princess stereotype" he scoffed. " oh little man i made it" she walked off eyes lighting up when she saw the man before her . " finally someone interesting" she called making the other man scoff.

It wasn't her intention to be bitchy maybe it was having loki as a big brother or the fact the man before her didn't know his ass from his elbow and yet he held something so important in his hands. She could of kept walking , ignored it and she was going to til his mouth opened once more. " really the killer" that sentence that made the fires of hel seem small to how it made her feel. " excuse me you back of the warehouse version of captain america , you wouldn't know the real downfall of earth or it's people . you hold that shield yet don't know one thing it represents nor the man that held it before you and yet you try cast you opinions on someone who went through so much and still stand before us today , if my father was alive he would agree that not one of us would have the same kind of heart and fight if we went through what that man has went through , all that pain and torture that would break you in a click of a finger" she snapped. " doll seriously it's ok" bucky said although someone should told his face with the smile having her defending him . " jame buchanan barnes and many other saved this whole universe and you dare try insult him , that shows you don't deserve that title you parade" she scoffed leaving john walker standing almost speechless . " hey little princess" sam called cutting bucky from speaking. " hello shall we leave or midgard will need a new captain" she smiled brightly . " actually we need your help" sam winked . " i feel like i should say no but lets go" she chuckled .

She sat on the ledge of helicopter watching the idiot well her favourite idiot fall to the ground and sam following after liking the new and improved wings. " you gonna jump out now?" torrez asked in awe and well slightly nervous giving who the woman is before him. " nah idiots forget i could of teleported us" she giggle before she was gone from his sight. Leaning over bucky as he lay out on the ground . " that was very stupid" she smiled holding her hand out. " well i mean i got down didn't i" he smirked back up at her. " your an old man it's quite dangerous" she laughed . " how old are you again" he shot back. " times different i mean in earth human years i'm only what twenty five" she tapped her chin . " wait so how old was loki when you know tried taking over earth " sam came to their side. " earth years sixteen" she walked off causing sam mouth to get louder at the new found knowledge . " your telling me grown ass loki , destroying new york with his alien ass army was 16 earth years old " . " yeah i mean time was something that many asgardians had to get use to being here" she shrugged. " i like it better when you where the thousand year old princess" bucky teased. " so you didn't feel like a creep my little pinning buck" sam whispered she heard it yet kept walking pretending to be oblivious to sam's constant teasing . " no but seriously loki was sixteen" sam asked making her roll her eyes . which led to her spending the rest of the time trying to explain the time differences and space and time which was probably a waste of her time as he began asking to convert their fellow avengers ages to asgardian . which then she used to tease him then turning it around. " so would it make you feel better after losing to parker" she smirked watching his face fall. " we didn't lose" bucky spoke up . " yeah redwing came in" sam added. " so redwing did, what you couldn't" she smiled. " no no now don't spin this" sam huffed. " well i mean you're so concerned with ages" she smiled. " here's me thinking you were sweet and soft like thor but your like loki" sam chuckled . " i mean me and loki did get to chat a lot , great teacher glad he left something behind " she smiled softly as sam realised his words . " shit i didn't , sorry really y/n" he began rambling . " it's ok really lets get going" she walked ahead only for bucky to slap sam at the back of the head. " bird brain, and stop with the remarks she finds out i love her well i'm screwed i love my best girl " he hissed.

Even after all this time it was so hard , so stressful and completely heartbreaking to even think of her brother . loki and thor was all she had after her parents life had perished and granted she still have thor but through everything knowing once and for all that loki was truly gone , well sometimes it can take longer for a heart to heal after so much loss especially when your not fully over the others before it. The rest of the trip it was like she was somewhere else from the taunts of zemo to the fake disguise of the winter soldier it seemed as though the whole thing was getting worse bringing back scars for them all to the surface. All mentally dealing with something that was bigger then themselves . all dealing with pressures or ghost of their own past . he could see in her eyes thinking of all they lost , close friends and family behind the eyes he could stare into all day . she been around through it all , from when steve found him the first and second time . the day he pulled him from the river when she promised to take care of steve , through the battle of the airport, on the run while he was in wakanda she stayed learning how they did it and being the friend he needed. To the war how she held them all up loss after loss , she lived through the blip trying to find a way to get them back , a way to stop the mad tyrant and he wonder in that time was he on her mind like she would of been on his if the role were reversed. She would give her all for those she loved and still felt like she needed to give more it was another reason to add to that ever growing list of why he loved her .

Then now here they were louisiana celebrating the new captain america , the right choice , the one he couldn't agreed more not that he would admit that out loud . although he wish sam would shut up about y/n odinsdottir . he didn't want to scare her off being his friend , the whole time when everything was wrapped up in a bow it's all the new cap could bring up . he watched her laugh and play with the children , how even thought the sun was shining her smile was even brighter . " you know instead of still doing the whole mean steamy stare you could actually do something about it" sam nudged him playfully as sarah looked to the two. " oh if you don't i will" she winked . then the laugh got louder as he watched her walking towards him eyes locked on his and that damn smile that made him melt like a puddle. Her hand coming to his face , cupping his cheeks before her lips on his . " you know i can hear you both no matter how much you whisper" she winked turning to walk off only to feel his hand to wrap in her pulling her flush to his chest . " and you left it til now cruel doll" he smirked leaning forward . " hey girl can only wait so long plus again it's not like i didn't give you chances all these years " batting her lashes leaning up to kiss him once more only for clash of thunder shot through the sky making them jump apart. " he got the girl , my man buck nasty got the girl" sam cheered . " he always had the girl" she kissed him once . the one he wanted to see the most was truly and finally his ,his peace and his girl. 

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Ur writing is so easy to dive into I desperately need more!!! Is there more???? What happens to this awful wet cat of a woman next?????????????

uuuh. this.

in reference to this, for anyone who finds this just incomprehensible.

It turned out that she wasn't going to be left alone to rot in peace.

It turned out that she wasn't going to be left alone to rot in peace.

On Jessie’s disgustingly cheerful, rainbow-spangled doormat (an impulse purchase from a previous June that currently pissed her off every time she looked at it) a cupcake, a birthday card, and a note torn from a yellow legal pad were waiting for her.

The cupcake was chocolate topped with a mountain of blue buttercream frosting and edible glitter, and if Jessie's day kept going this badly it was probably going to end up being her dinner.

The card, also coated in glitter, wished her a happy birthday and was signed with a flourish from Uncle Ray. Ray wasn’t related to her in any biological sense of the word, but he’d been a friend of Jessie’s father since before Jessie was born, and that had to count for something. It was like her brother always said: family wasn’t about who you were related to, it was about who was there for you.

Uncle Ray was also, unfortunately, the owner of the building Jessie currently lived in and therefore her landlord, which was currently counting for way too much.

On the note he’d left her a hurried, shaky-handed explanation: he was sorry to miss her, hoped she was having fun on her birthday, and as a gift he’d be waiving May’s rent, which they both knew perfectly well was extremely overdue. However, he warned, he expected the money for June right on time at the start of the month, and if she failed to deliver they were going to need to have a very serious talk about Jessie’s status as a tenant moving forward.

And then, because Uncle Ray was Uncle Ray, he’d given her a little wiggle room: a PS, informing her that Mrs. Hoang said her dishwasher was acting up again, and that he’d happily credit the repair towards Jessie’s account if it meant he didn’t have to call in his idiotic repairman. Jessie didn’t understand for the life of her the psychological warfare that was going on between the two of them, or why Ray didn’t just fire the poor dunce if he hated him so much, but she wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity to get paid for hanging out with Mrs. Hoang. Jessie loved old people, and Mrs. Hoang was a hoot. 

She pretended not to see the second maintenance job he offered her, fixing up a dryer and a washer in the basement that had both started spitting people’s quarters back out at them when they were done running. It had taken Jessie a long time to figure out how to make them do that, and she wasn’t one to foul up her own handiwork. 

Alright. Alright. This wasn't good, exactly, but she had somewhere to start, something to keep her occupied instead of completely falling apart. If she didn't give herself a little task right this second she would probably do what she had been doing for days at a time ever since Jonas left: wallowing in her own misery, eating weed gummies and jacking off, listening to true crime podcasts and shopping online until it was time to microwave something for dinner. If the morons in the Brig could see her like that they would cream their standard issue sweatpants. She decided to implement a new rule of personal conduct: whenever she found herself doing something that would make Whirligig feel like she was winning their friend breakup, Jessie had to cut that shit out immediately.

With that in mind, Jessie dragged herself to the bathroom to shower off the morning’s disgrace and wash her hair for the first time in, arguably, too many days. When the hot water ran out, something that she would be holding her uncle accountable for, she toweled off and crawled into a ratty tank top and snowflake-patterned pajama pants. A laundry day outfit for sure, but a.) it actually was laundry day, thank you very much, and b.) she deserved some time in soft clothing after spending the night packed into her catsuit like a can of spam. Then came the first of several trips up and down too many flights of stairs, because despite the criminal lack of an elevator Jessie was determined to throw all of her heaps of laundry into the wash at once. It was sort of a dick move, monopolizing all the washers like that, but she couldn’t wait around all day and her neighbors would forgive her when they realized that all of the machines would spit their change back out now. What, like Jessie had enough quarters for that many loads of laundry? In this economy?

Then she shuffled to the second floor to see Mrs. Hoang, who didn’t care that she was in pajamas and insisted that Jessie stay to have some soup before she started fiddling with the dishwasher. It was a damn good soup, extra spicy bún bò that filled her up so well that she was glad she’d neglected to eat her cupcake. Jessie ate it without saying much, offering a sympathetic ear and supportive scoffs while Mrs. Hoang talked about the convoluted feuds she kept up with various shopkeepers and other elderly women in the neighborhood.

As usual Mrs. Hoang left the TV on while she talked, the news turned down to almost nothing. She hardly seemed to notice it was on, but Jessie’s eye was caught when the puff pieces dissolved into a scene from downtown earlier that day. Nothing too shocking, by Rustbelt’s standards: Ricochet, red and self-righteous, duking it out with some new nobody on the scene, disrupting downtown traffic earlier that afternoon. Jessie ran the numbers, and figured this must have taken place not long at all after she was ingloriously dispatched from N.E.X.T. Had Ric already known? Was that why she was in such a hurry to send Jessie packing? It was nice to imagine there was a reason rather than her archenemy being an asshole, but she knew it was more likely the latter. 

In any case, the new kid hardly seemed like he was worth it. Sure, he was putting on a show. Whatever his trick was, he managed to shatter every pane of glass out of the sparkling facade of the Van Houten Charitable Foundation, a window virtually made of buildings, and send the shards surging across Central Square straight at Ricochet. She was fine, of course, boinging away to safety like the world’s bitchiest little frog, but the cars and businesses around her were definitely going to need some TLC. Hopefully they had powers insurance; you’d have to be a fool to live in Rustbelt without it. And this was a crystal clear claim, in Jessie’s inexpert opinion, caught on camera from multiple angles and everything.

But the actual so-called villain? Pathetic. Amateur hour. Nobody knew his name, for one, because he hadn’t bothered to announce himself, so the chyron at the bottom of the screen could only refer to him as “mystery criminal.” Hardly inspiring stuff; nobody was going to be shelling out for merch of Mystery Criminal. And he hadn’t even bothered to get a decent outfit together, instead showing up in ratty black skinny jeans and a green hoodie like he was fresh off a shift at Hot Topic. He was wearing a backpack, for fucks sake! The only points Jessie would give him were for the fact that he’d at least had the presence of mind to keep the hood up, which was concealing his face to an impressive degree. None of the security cameras or cell phone footage seemed to have gotten a clear look at his face, so at least that was something.

Still, she wasn’t impressed.

“I can’t stand it when these wannabes come crawling out of the woodwork with no direction, no goals, no panache, no nothing,” she said to Mrs. Hoang. “Like, you’re not a villain just because you have powers. If you’re not going to put any artistry into it, you might as well just put your hand in your pocket to pretend you have a gun and go rob a 7/11.”

“Well, not everyone can be as professional as you. You’ve got the passion for it, more than anybody I’ve ever met in my life.” Mrs. Hoang said from beside the kitchen window, where she was on her second cigarette and blowing smoke rings. She was a pack a day kind of broad with a voice to match, and Jessie admired the old-school panache even if she shuddered to imagine the state of Mrs. Hoang’s lungs.

The compliment made her blush. “Thank you. You really mean that?”

Mrs. Hoang shrugged. “I’ve met every type of criminal they make, right? And nobody’s having more fun than you. There are kingpins living in palaces on their own tropical islands who don’t like what they do as much as you do. I think you’re made for this.”

“God, thank you. I’ve been kind of, like, second-guessing myself lately.”

“What? Since when?”

“I don’t know. Like, this morning?”

Jessie gave Mrs. Hoang the abridged version, leaving out details here and there that made her seem extra pathetic—namely, the thing about Ricochet’s secret identity. Jessie didn’t mind painting herself as a victim of N.E.X.T.’s bullying, but she didn’t want to implicate Jonas in anything. The two of them had to present a united front always; that was one of their rules. Still, she was pretty sure she got across exactly how fucked she was, which was why it surprised her when Mrs. Hoang simply shrugged her bony shoulders again.

“You’ll figure it out,” she proclaimed.

“Yeah but, like, how?”

“Well, that part’s not my job. What, you think I’m going to train you? You think I’m trying to be your fucking Mr. Miyagi?” Mrs. Hoang cackled so hard at her own joke that she made herself cough, pounding her chest until she got it back together. “Look, you’re a great girl. I’d let you marry one of my grandsons.”

“You said you’d disown them if they married white people!”

“Eh, I’m getting desperate with this one. He’s a good boy, smart, but he’s got no direction. No ambition. All he does after work is go home to play his video games. I think girls scare him.” She looked at Jessie meaningfully. “He’d be an easy husband, is all I’m saying. He works in tech, makes lots of money that you could spend however you want. And a tough girl like you could really sort him out.”

“I really appreciate it, but I’m not marrying your cringefail loser grandson. That feels wrong, somehow. Like, extremely wrong. I feel like you’re trying to sell him to me.”

“See? You’re a good girl,” Mrs. Hoang said. “But you’re also an eel. That’s the point I was getting to. You’re slippery. You’ll wiggle around and bite whoever you need to so you can survive, because you have to. What else would you do? What is there for you, if not being a villain?”

That wasn’t a rhetorical question; she had a hard look to her face like she actually expected answers. So Jessie scrambled, trying to come up with anything else she might feasibly do to pay the bills.

“I mean, sales? I used to do that.”

“Where’s the last place you were a salesgirl?”

“This snooty-ass jewelry place in the mall. Mostly selling engagement rings and stuff. I kind of hated it, and they ended up firing me for, you know. Stealing an engagement ring with a big honkin’ diamond in it.” 

“You can’t work sales, girl. You love to steal.”

“Okay! But what about, like, waitressing?”

“You’ve done that before?”

“No, but I know how restaurants work. I can hold things. I’m good with people. How hard can it be?”

Mrs. Hoang waved her cigarette scoldingly in Jessie’s direction. “First of all, you apologize to waitresses. That’s skilled work. You can hold things, but what are you going to  do when some tight-ass starts yelling at you for not bringing her shitty kid enough chicken strips? And your feet hurt, and half your dipshit coworkers didn't show up for shift, the head cook is on meth, and nobody's tipping worth shit?”

Jessie tried and failed a few times to come up with what was probably the right answer, and ultimately landed on something a lot closer to the truth. “I don’t know, call in a bomb threat and go home early? Jesus Christ, that sounds like a nightmare.”

“Apologize to waitresses!”

“Sorry, waitresses.” She rolled something around in her mouth, unsure if she should say it at all, then figured it couldn’t hurt to dig herself in a little deeper. “There’s this other place that’s, like, super shady and hires girls who don’t even have to serve the wings, they just walk around in costumes. So like models, basically. It’s superhero themed, and they just have all these girls there to hang out dressed up as the slutty Halloween costume version of heroes and villains and stuff. I figure they might hire me on the spot if they realize who I am, because having the real Frostbite is kind of a get, right? And then I get paid to just, like, hang out with other cute girls and take pictures with people like a character at Disneyland.” Not that Jessie had ever been to Disneyland, but she gets the idea. 

“Okay, so what’s stopping you from doing that? Go apply right now.”

Jessie groaned. “But, like, I know that the first time some guy gets too grabby I’m going to break his fingers and get turbo fired. And also there’s a chance that they’ll tell me I’m too fat to play Frostbite, which is, like, you know. Obviously I’ll just have to burn the entire restaurant down, which is probably illegal.”

Mrs. Hoang nodded like this was all going about as well as she’d expected. “Anything else?”

“Well, like, I have the crafting thing, right? Like, I take some commissions and stuff. I could pivot to do that full time?”

“No. Never try to make a hobby your whole life. You’ll end up hating it.” Mrs. Hoang nodded to the soup simmering on the stove, making a face. “I like to cook. You know what happened when I tried to start a restaurant?”

“You ended up having to burn it down, change your name, and leave San Jose forever.”

“And kill my second husband.”

“You killed your… I don’t know if you’ve ever told me that part before.”

Mrs. Hoang shrugged, as if to say that sometimes second husbands had to die and there was nothing that could be done about it. “He was more of a business partner than a husband, really. Not a lot of love. Sometimes it’s the partner that’s the problem, you know what I mean?”

“I’m not killing my brother,” Jessie said flatly.

“No, no. But you don’t need him, either. You’re smart, tough, quick-thinker. Go find someone else to do crime with you. You want to hang around with pretty girls in costumes so much, go find some yourself. Every big villain I see on TV, he’s got some lay sidekick in a sparkly little outfit. Why not you?”

“I mean, those girls are all union. I can’t afford moll rates.”

“So don’t hire a professional, dumbass. Get a friend,” Mrs. Hoang said. She flicked a little ash off her cigarette derisively. “You remember how to do that?”

“Yeah,” said Jessie, who wasn’t actually sure of that at all. When was the last time she’d made a friend? There was Whirligig, which had obviously been an ass-shattering disaster. Even before it broke really bad, there had never really been a lot of love between them. Then there was Xochitl, who Jessie actually liked and had still managed to completely blow her chances with. That one was still so raw that she couldn’t even joke about it. God, why couldn’t Xo have just yelled at her like a normal person? It would be so much easier if they could just hate each other now. And she’d made a hell of an effort with Night Noir when they did that little crossover job in the fall, but all that had gotten her was the worst ghosting of her life. 

Maybe she didn’t actually know how to make a friend. Maybe she could start by finding a henchperson and figure it out from there. She didn’t really need a friend friend, right? A partner would suffice. Anyone to fill the Jonas-shaped void while Jessie figured out how to go it alone. Sure, she and her brother had been a team. But anyone could watch her back, right? That was hardly skilled labor.

“You really think I can do it? Run my own shit?” 

It was a question for herself as much as for Mrs. Hoang, one of the biggest things that had been pinning her into inaction for the past few months even as it became increasingly clear that she needed to do literally anything. The solution was obvious, really; there was no other path Jessie could take. But the prospect of figuring out how to do it all alone, of having to stand without Jonas’ support for the first time in her life, was scaring her shitless. 

Mrs. Hoang sighed. “What do you like about it? Being a villain?”

Jessie hadn’t expected another question, but this time she was immediately ready with an answer. 

“It’s fun. I mean, it’s hard and stressful and it's kind of scary, but it’s never boring. Every job is a different challenge, and I really like that. And things actually happen. At most jobs you do the same thing over and over again every day to try and keep everything the same forever, right? If you do everything right, nothing really changes. Best case scenario, some months you sell more stuff than last month. But if I do my job right I get to go home with a diamond the size of my ass cheek, because I was smart enough and tough enough and ballsy enough to take it when nobody else was. And there’s no CEO or boss or board of directors who get to take a cut or give me a bad performance review or anything. Nobody can fire me. Nobody can tell me what to do. I’m free to do whatever I want.”

She stumbled a little on the last part, because it wasn’t exactly true anymore. Ricochet very much had told her what to do, had even taken away her freeze ray to really rub it in, and Jessie had no fucking idea what she was supposed to do about that. She had spent years thinking of Ricochet like a yappy little dog, irksome but easy enough to kick away when she got too annoying. And now it turned out she wasn’t scared of Jessie and never had been, and Jessie’s head was still spinning.

Mrs. Hoang cleared her throat, snatching Jessie’s attention back. “You know how you look, when you talk about it?”

“What?”

“You talk about being a villain like you’re in love. You get this look on your face like my third husband used to get, back when we were falling in love.”

“The one in Rikers?”

“God bless him.” Mrs. Hoang crossed herself in the wrong order, cigarette trailing a smoky crucifix across her chest. “Listen to me: you look happier talking about crime than most people do talking about their own children. We all have to work until we die on this bitch of an earth, so if you can make money doing something you don’t hate, why would you let that go? Because your brother’s not around? Your brother’s a bastard. You don’t need him.”

“Hey.”

“I know you love him, but you’re a smart girl. You can love someone and know they’re a bastard. That’s my third husband, too. You’re tough. You’re a survivor. And you never take no for an answer. So why the hell are you waiting for an old woman to tell you that you can do it?”

“You’re right. Oh my god, you’re so right.” Jessie stood up, awkwardly smoothing out her pajama pants. Suddenly she was feeling hideously underdressed, embarrassed to have even gone outside of her apartment like this. She had a reputation to maintain. “Thank you so much for this. What time is it? I need to get moving. I have to get my life together.”

“Eh eh, hold on.” Mrs. Hoang snapped her fingers impatiently. “You need to fix my dishwasher first. It’s making that noise again. I can’t stand that shit.”

“Oh, fuck. Sorry. Hang on.” Jessie immediately redirected that energy back into the kitchen, yanking open the dishwasher and dropping straight to the floor. “Seriously, thank you so much. I really appreciate it when you let me pick your brain like this. You don’t happen to have a cringe pushover granddaughter, do you? I’d marry her in a heartbeat.”

“Nice try. All of my granddaughters are brilliant and mean.”

“God, that’s hot.”

“I’m very proud. I’ll pack up some leftovers for you, okay? I know you’ve been sad without your bastard brother around. It’s hard to eat when you’re sad. You should have come to see me sooner, so I could feed you.”

“I’m really sorry,” Jessie told her, and meant it. “I’ve been in kind of a funk, you know? But I’m trying to shake it off now. I promise.”

That was an understatement. What remained of the afternoon passed in a blur, with Jessie cramming in as much as she could to make up for lost time. She actually put away all of her clean clothes when they were done drying instead of leaving them to rot in the laundry basket, got dressed in a proper functioning outside outfit, and styled her hair and slapped on a little eyeliner and lip gloss for good measure. Then she went to see Isaac, the sweet Zimbabwean grad student across the hall. She’d been letting him use her Wi-Fi since he moved in and had knitted him a scarf to get him through the winter, and he’d always sworn he owed her a big favor for it while Jessie swore that he didn’t owe her anything at all.

Well, the times were a-changing, and Jessie was coming to collect. 

He was surprised to see her but didn’t refuse when she asked to go to the grocery store, or ask questions when she insisted on going to the fancy one that was well outside of their neighborhood. Jessie recommended, as delicately as possible, that he stay in the car while she shopped, and if he suspected that she’d stolen every single item in her overstuffed cart then he was polite enough not to say anything about it. It was a risky move, for sure, but if Jessie had learned anything as a child it was that even the worst circumstances seemed a little better when you at least had a full pantry, and she needed to save the last of her dwindling cash for bigger and better things. 

One-Eyed Polly’s was cash-only, after all, and somehow it always came back to One-Eyed Polly’s.  

According to family legend, everything had actually started there for Jessie, specifically in the middle stall of the women’s bathroom where her mother’s water broke. Yes, her mother really was the kind of bitch who was still hanging out at the local bad guy bar shooting the shit and hustling people at pool while she was nine months pregnant. Explains some things, doesn’t it? 

Anyway, Jesie spent her childhood obsessed with the idea of the place. It was a mythical location in her little kid brain, like the White House or the North Pole. God only knew what actually went on in there, but her imagination was filling in the gaps in the most lurid way possible. Polly’s was where Dad went to find work when every other lead dried up and the family was getting desperate, their saving grace. Dad would slink off to Polly’s when the power was about to get turned off, and he’d come back flush with confidence and enough money that the family wouldn’t have to worry for a few more months.

He never told Jessie much about Polly’s when she pressed, or anything else about his work. From Jonas she had gathered that their dad, gentle and bumbling as he was, had been an enforcer once, what Jonas scathingly called dumb muscle. It made sense, physically; Jonas and Dad were built exactly alike, tall and broad and sort of looming huge no matter what they did to seem smaller. But Dad didn’t do that anymore, not in years. These days he kept his head low, mostly serving as a driver, but he still wasn’t sharing any details. 

In young Jessie’s mind Polly’s was a nightclub like the ones on cop shows, dark rooms with throbbing music where sexily-dressed people writhed through smoke and neon lights. The villains would lean up against the walls, watching the crowd with a sharp gaze until they found just what they were looking for, and then they’d smile and beckon the lucky hench who’d caught their eye. You. And the crowds would part to let the chosen one through, everyone envious of whatever trait had been enough to deem them worthy. 

Admittedly it was hard to picture her deeply uncool dad in such a setting, but it must have worked out somehow. 

She didn’t actually get to see what Polly’s was like until she was thirteen, and that was still too early as far as Jonas was concerned. Before they went in he’d given her a whole lecture in the car, his knuckles white on the steering wheel even though they were parked.

“I’m going to walk you up to the bar and have you sit with Maudie, alright? She’ll take care of you.”

“Will she make me a drink?” Jessie asked. She was avoiding looking at her brother because she didn’t want him to see how excited she was, or that she’d been experimenting with eyeliner and mascara. He wouldn’t care that she was wearing makeup, but he would want to know where she got it and he’d probably guess that she’d also been experimenting with shoplifting. Best to annoy him on purpose so he had something else to be grouchy about.

It worked perfectly, and he made a sound of deep distress like he thought she was being serious. “You can’t drink. She’ll find you a chocolate milk or something, and then you’ll hang out with her until I’m done with my meeting. Don’t talk to anybody else, okay?”

“Why not?”

“Stranger danger, Jess, come on. People are freaks in here.”

“You’re here.”

“Because I have to be, alright? I don’t like it.” Jonas rubbed his eyes, looking tired. He’d looked tired since he moved out of their parents’ house, so much that Jessie worried about his health. She swore he was starting to get gray hairs, even though he’d only just turned twenty-one.

“What am I allowed to do?”

“Have a nice conversation with Maud. Tell her about how good you’re doing in school.”

“I’m not doing good in school.”

“Then you better come up with something nice to talk about, because you’re not doing anything else. Don’t even look at anybody too much, people get twitchy if you start doing that in case you’re a snitch.”

“Am I allowed to piss?”

He looked strained, the way he always did when she swore for no reason. “Have Maudie go with you.”

“Seriously? I’m not a baby, I can go to the bathroom by myself.” Jessie couldn’t even imagine what kind of trouble he thought she would get into there. In health class they’d said that people hung out in strange bathrooms to offer kids drugs, but that seemed stupid to Jessie. She would probably take a drug if it was free, just to see what it was like, but someone giving something away for no money seemed like a stupid idea to her even though she’d gotten detention for saying it.

Anyway, Maudie wouldn’t let something like that happen in her bar.

“I know you can wipe yourself, doofus, but you’re also gonna meet someone and start talking their ear off,” Jonas was saying. “Don’t do that.”

“Gaaaaawd. Why don’t you just leave me in the car if you’re so worried about it?”

“Because that’s child abuse. Any more questions?”

She could have asked questions forever, if he’d let her, but she was getting antsy and didn’t want to make him late, so she zipped her lips and shook her head. 

Jonas steered her inside with a big hand on her shoulder, his skin a little chilly even through his stupid little driving gloves. When they stepped through the door Jessie’s hopes momentarily soared, then immediately crashed and hit the ground like a dead seagull. Where was the pounding synth and the sex appeal? This was just a boring room with worn-out furniture and a pool table and completely normal lighting shining down on a scratch-up wooden floor. The most notable features were a jukebox blasting old people rock that made Jessie think of her dad and an ashtray smell that made her think of her mom.

Her brother steered her straight back to the bar, where a graying butch was waiting with a dusty can of grape soda that had clearly been dug up from somewhere deep in the bowels of the basement.

“Heya, tyke,” Maudie said, unsmiling.

“Heya, dyke,” Jessie said, with a shit-eating grin. She swung herself up onto one of the barstools, kicking her legs eagerly. “How’s it hanging?”

“Same old.” Maud turned to Jonas, somber. “Recluse is already waiting for you in the corner.”

Jessie swiveled all the way around her stool to have a look, and was delighted to see a menacing figure occupying the big booth jammed into a corner at the back of the room. She was wearing a lengthy trench coat that was bulging in the back, with long, bristling black spider limbs poking out at angles that didn’t seem like they should work. 

“Holy shit,” Jessie said, right before her brother spun her forcibly back around to look at Maud.

“Do not,” he said. “Please. I’ll be right back.”

He patted the top of her head and left, hunching his shoulders the way he did when he wanted to look even bigger and wider. Maudie sighed, long and slow.

“How’s school, kid?”

“Stupid. I wish it was summer.” 

“Yeah? What are you going to do when school’s out?”

“I don’t know. Watch TV. Who’s Recluse?”

“Trouble. Mind your own business.”

“Why’s Jonas talking to her?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Does she owe him money?”

“How about I put this pop in a margarita glass, huh? Would that be fun for you?”

“Can I have a little paper umbrella?”

“We don’t do those here. You get the fancy glass, take it or leave it.”

“Take it.”

The grape soda tasted musty, the carbonated fizz warm on her tongue, but Jessie sipped it anyway to be polite, swirling it the way she saw women do with wine glasses on TV. Her eyes were swiveling over the glass, trying to get a look at anyone else inside without being obvious about it. There was mostly nothing to see except a lot of sad, slouchy men who looked like her dad, but over at the dartboard there was a woman that Jessie wanted to look at forever.

There were some men with her, too, but she was clearly the center of the situation. Tall and leggy (in the normal way, not like Recluse), pale and dark-haired, face filled with all kinds of exciting piercings that Jessie hadn’t previously realized were even possible. Her outfit was all black, shiny black boots and a black cropped t-shirt and tight black pants that rode low enough to show off a skeletal stomach and jutting hips. God, even her belly button was pierced. Her whole body was like a knife, nothing but sharp edges and bits of metal. As Jessie watched, the pointy woman flipped a dart backwards over her own shoulder and hit a perfect bullseye, never even glancing at the board.

“Stop,” Maud said sharply.

“Stop what?”

“Looking. Thinking. Whatever you’re doing.”

Jessie leaned across the bar, conspiratorial. “Who is she?”

“Too old for you.”

“Maudie! That’s not what I meant!” Jessie said, blushing in a way that strongly suggested otherwise.

“Like hell it’s not.” Maud rolled her eyes, cut a glance over at the sharp woman, and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “She calls herself Flechette, like machete. You’re not supposed to pronounce it like that, it’s French, but she’s mangling it on purpose. Dumbass. She’s been hustling those saps for the last fifteen minutes, taking them to the cleaners, and if I was dumb enough to gamble I'd say they’re about to start catching on.”

“Hey,” said one of the saps, right on time. “How the hell are you doing that?”

“She’s a freak!” one of his friends declared, which was followed pretty immediately by sounds of terrible pain.

Jessie didn’t turn around fast enough; hardly anyone could have. By the time she could see what was happening Flechette was already twirling a pool cue like a weapon and pulling off a series of improbably high kicks and sharp elbow jabs. The guys she’d been soundly beating were hardly amateurs—they all had the look of professional enforcers, dumb muscle to the bone—but their lumbering punches never had a chance to land.

Maud whistled, loud and sharp enough to split right through the fracas “That’s enough. You know there’s none of that bullshit in here.”

Flechette froze at once, except to deal one more swift kick to a man trying to drag himself up from the floor. She dropped the pool cue and held her hands up, wide open to show that she was done being a threat. It was a choice though, Jessie thought; this woman was entirely in charge of how and when she was dangerous. Maudie had always seemed unshakeable to Jessie, stubborn and stern as a stone statue, but what could she have actually done if Flechette didn’t want to leave? The baseball bat beneath the bar wouldn’t be much use against someone like that. 

It didn’t matter. Flechette flashed a smile like a shark and made for the door, pausing to throw a wink back at the bar. Maybe that was meant for Maud, a final little taunt to remember her by, but Jessie liked to imagine that it was meant for her. She was watching with her jaw dangling to the floor, not trying to make any secret of it. When Jessie told the story later she would always editorialize, hinting that Flechette must have sensed a kindred soul in her that day, spotted another villain’s star rising. 

In any case, nobody ever saw Flechette around Rustbelt again. From there on out she started climbing the ranks as a mercenary and assassin for hire, eventually working for A-list baddies all over the world. She upgraded from darts to razor-thin daggers that could find their mark from nearly any distance, thanks to her superhuman aim, and her services were sufficiently in demand that no prison could keep her contained for long. Somebody more powerful was always eager to break her out and have her killing in their name.  

In the meantime, the door of One-Eyed Polly’s slammed shut at the exact moment a giant hand gripped Jessie’s shoulder and made her jump.

“It’s time to go,” Jonas said, low and urgent. “Come on, Jess. Say thanks to Maudie.”

“I didn’t even finish my drink,” she said, knowing immediately that it was a stupid thing to say.

“Maybe next time.” Maud’s face was tight, and she was already whisking the margarita glass away. “Take care, kids.”

Jonas steered Jessie straight to his awful van, completely silent until he was back in the driver’s seat and gripping the steering wheel. He hadn’t taken off his gloves, but Jessie could imagine his knuckles turning white. That was a bad sign, considering the van wasn’t even running.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said quietly.

Which confused Jessie for a moment, because she had assumed that she was in trouble. An apology was unexpected.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “It was cool. She’s badass.”

“She’s not a role model. Nobody in there is.”

“What about Recluse?”

Jonas groaned, lowering his head to the steering wheel as well. “You shouldn’t even know her name. No, she’s not a role model. She’s a psychopath.”

“What about Maudie?”

“She’s on thin ice,” he said, which would normally make Jessie chuckle and point out haha, ice, but he clearly wasn’t in the mood. And she wasn’t either, because Jonas was treating her like a baby and that ticked her off, so she did something rude.

“Well, what about you?”

That made him raise his head, at least, and she immediately regretted pushing him, because Jonas looked more exhausted than she’d ever seen him in their entire life. He was getting dark hollows under his eyes, and he seemed skinnier and more raw beneath his baggy clothes every time she hugged him, and that hair that was going gray. 

“I don’t want to be there either, Jess. Don’t think for a second that I do, alright? This is pragmatism.”

“What does that mean? Come on, I’m failing English. I don’t know words.”

He reached into his jacket and withdrew a fat wad of bills clipped together, slapping them down on the center console. It wasn’t forceful, not enough to make Jessie cringe or scare her in any way—he was always careful about that, conscientious to be gentle with her since he had always been so much older and bigger. But she could tell he wanted to make a point about it.

“It means that I’m being smart and doing the thing that will make me the most possible money, even though it sucks.”

“Why, though?” Jessie pressed. “You don’t have to do it if you hate it so much.”

“Jess, come on. I’m trying to take care of you, okay? Dropping off groceries every week is expensive, and driving you around is expensive, and I’m…” He paused, rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Look, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this. I didn’t want to bring it up too soon, in case it didn’t pan out, but what if you came to stay with me instead of Mom and Dad?”

Her heart skipped, and she immediately clamped down on that feeling before she could get too excited. She had to play it cool. “But you said I’m never allowed to visit your place.”

“Well, I’d have to get a new place. With no housemates, so I’d have to pay the rent and security deposit and everything by myself because it would be just me and you. But I think I could do it.”

Jessie swallowed hard. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

“No. But I think I could make them understand, if it was what you really wanted. And that’s another thing I’m saving up for, getting a lawyer if they try to fight about it. So that I could legally adopt you or something, if I have to. If you want me to.”

“Adopt me?” Jessie repeated. It sounded silly, thinking of Jonas as her parent instead of her brother. He was too young to be her dad. But it made sense, didn’t it? Mom made sure she had food and clothes and all that, but Jessie had never felt like her mom loved or even her. Dad loved her plenty, but he was responsible for losing all their money and getting the lights shut off at least as often as he was responsible for fixing it. Jonas was the only one who had ever managed to love her and take care of her. 

“If you want,” he said again. She’d never seen him so nervous. “You don’t have to. But I know Mom and Dad have been getting worse, and I don’t want you to have to stay there if you don’t want to. You should feel safe at home. And I’ve never forgotten what you said that night at the park. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

She knew exactly what he meant; there was only one night at the park for them. The night they’d been eating ice cream sandwiches and watching fireflies when the sky opened up, when time slowed to almost nothing and snapped back to a different world, a world where her brother was a walking blizzard. 

“It’s okay,” Jessie told him, even though it sort of wasn’t. She’d gotten used to it. “But I would. I’d live with you. It’d be cool.”

Jonas didn’t smile often or easily, but right then he looked happier and more relieved then she’d ever seen. Maybe even excited, like he had been worried she would say no and pick their parents over him. “Okay. Yeah. We’ll make it happen, Jess. I’ve been saving up as much as I can, and I think I’m close. We won’t be anywhere very nice, but I’ll find us somewhere. We’ll make it happen, okay?”

Jessie’s heart was racing, all the excitement of One-Eyed Polly’s already forgotten in light of this new development. She had to make sure this was for real, had to make this as close to legally binding as she could. “You promise?” 

He extended a little finger and she grinned, tied their pinkies together to seal the promise like they had since she was little.

“I promise,” he said. “You and me against the world.”

[kaliforniahigh]

MEDUSA - Part Four.

We pick up right where we left off on the last part.

Warnings: talks of killing people, usual strip club stuff. Can y'all guess who the mysterious men are?

WC: 1.083 words. This one is on the shorter side, sorry :(

Summary: Y/N is a private dancer at a Gentleman's Club called Medusa. Noah Sebastian is a crime boss. Their paths cross when one night, Noah pays for one of her dances and they can't seem to be apart from each other.

Series Masterlist

After this eventful night, you really need to take a good bath. Scrubbing your skin clean of everything that has to do with Noah Sebastian and his friends. Hoping that in the process you're able to scrub him from your mind as well.

As you push yourself off the door you closed a few minutes ago, you make your way over to the couch to make sure everything is in order and not one drop of blood was dropped on it. You notice that your notepad you have on your side table is open and your pen has been thrown on top of it.

Deciding to inspect it further, you see a number written on it and a note right under that said "in case you need me, don't hesitate to call. Noah". You stare at the note for a good three minutes. Deciding you don't need anymore of this tonight, you rip the paper from the notepad and slip it in the side pocket of your work bag.

You know. Just in case you actually need it.

It was supposed to be an uneventful night. Until Ava told you that one of the girls came down with the flu and she really needed you to work the tables and entertain the patrons. You usually wouldn't do this, deciding that this aspect of your job was behind you a while ago. But you really couldn't take anymore of her begging.

Looking around the room, you noticed that it wasn't so crowded. People were scattered around the bar and tables, and the section you were supposed to cover only had a few people. Walking around, you waited for someone to flag you down to either request a drink, or ask you to sit down and make them some company.

You passed by a table with with around five or six people, when you heard a man calling for you.

"Hey, beautiful. Why don't you grab a drink for me and one for yourself and join us?" You looked at him, he had brown eyes and soft curls on his head.

"Of course, honey. What would you like?" You put on your nicest face and voice. Part of this was working their ego to the max, pretending that you were actually interested in whatever they wanted to offer you for the time.

"I'll take an old fashioned", you told him you would be back in a minute with both of your drinks. You sauntered your way to the bar and you could feel his eyes on you.

You decided to grab yourself a mimosa, not intending on getting drunk on the job, and you still had to drive home. You went back with the drinks, noticing there was a space for you to sit down, so that is what you did.

The curly haired man kept his arm around your shoulder, and as they conversed, you pretended to be interested in something else. They always wanted company, but they didn't want anyone meddling in their bussiness. You knew the kind of patrons that attended the club, meeting Noah was an example of that.

You couldn't help but tune into their conversation while you sipped on your drink.

"I swear they're fucking pissing me off, man. I almost had one of them last night, but I couldn't get a good shot at him", said one of them, he was wearing a cap on his head, but you could tell he was bald. This caught your attention, but they couldn't be talking about what you were thinking.

"We gotta have patience. Pretty boy is gonna have what he deserves in due time", the man beside you said.

"What we have in store for them is going to shock everyone", they collectively laughed, but you kept your composure.

"And after that, Noah Sebastian is just going to be an afterthought in the city of New York". You were trying really hard not to let the shake in your hands show, that is why you decided to set your drink on the table. You mulled over his words, a million thoughts running through your head.

The hand that was on your shoulder moved down to circle around your waist. You were hoping that they would be done soon, otherwise he would notice how cold and sweaty your hands were. Thoughts of this man hurting (or killing, you know that is what they were implying) Noah, completely frightened you. At this point you really couldn't deny you cared for him to some level.

The man tapped your waist twice, a sign that you were free to go. As you were standing up, you grabbed your drink, turning around to face them and saying "it was really nice meeting you, gentleman. I'm sure I'll see you around". You made sure to commit their faces to memory, since you didn't have any names.

"The pleasure was all ours, beautiful".

You made an enormous effort to smile, turning around and leaving. You whispered to one fo your friends that you needed to go to the bathroom, asking her if she could cover your tables. You tried to walk on a normal pace, but as soon as got to the back and into the dressing rooms, you ran to your bag, grabbing the note you slipped there the night prior.

As you looked at it, you weighted your options. You could tell him about this other men's plans, or you could leave him in the dark, risking his and his friend's lives. You decided to text him a simple message.

I'm sure you know who this is, I guess you already have my number. I need you to come to the club at 9pm and meet me in the same room as last time. I'll tell them you're coming.

You waited a couple of seconds, and his response came through.

I'll be there. Is everything alright?

You appreciated his concern. But it wasn't you he should be concerned about.

For now, yes.

After this, you put your phone and paper back inside your bag. You found Ava and told her you had a really important client booked for 9pm, and she told you she would have one of the girls cover you.

As you went back to the main room, you noticed that the men from earlier were already gone. Looking at your watch you saw you had one hour until Noah was supposed to be here. You just hoped you weren't too late.

Tag list: @concreteangel92 @darling-millicent-aubrey @mostlypanicking @thisbicc @rebelheart90 @moranastray @xmads-omensx @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lma1986 @skyemanzsstuff @theroyaldixon @mindlesssweets @dravenskye

If you want to be tagged on the next parts, please let me know!

Dividers: @cafekitsune

[il-miele-che-scrive]

lando norris x reader

based on this request (because I take requests and I have to make it everyone's business): Hi not sure if you take requests but in case you do could you write reader x lando where y/n is a celebrity or an influencer and she drops subtle hints at who is her new bf maybe some fun facts about him like "oh he hates fish and I'm making a lot of fish for christmas" and eventually the fans are like "guys it's totally lando"

words count: 2.5k + fans' tweets at the end

author's note: my first request and it was so fun to write 🥹 also added a hospital scene from the time of Vegas GP so we could experience a bit of protective Y/n and painkillers-high Lando (I forgot about a fish scene)

edit: I've just realized I've messed up the dates so let's pretend the award thingie was in '23 instead of '22

A secret boyfriend

It was a normal Tuesday of 2023 when Y/n Y/l/n and Lando Norris met. Well, not so normal since it was the day Y/n won the first award in her musical career, and Lando had his first debut as an award presenter.

"And the winner is..." He opened the envelope and flipped it, as he held it upside down. "Y/n Y/l/n."

Y/n couldn't believe it at first. She looked at her best friend with tears in her eyes. They hugged before Y/n stood up and got on her way to the scene, still questioning if she actually heard her name or was it her mind playing tricks on her.

"Thank you," Y/n sent Lando a smile as he handed her the award, "are you sure it's for me?" She joked, trying to mask the anxiety she felt from the fact that now she had to give a speech while everyone watched.

"Absolutely, it's all yours. Well deserved." Lando said feeling a bit starstruck from being so close to one of his favorite singers.

Just this one simple interaction was enough for both Y/n's and Lando's fanbases to raise suspicions. However, what was unavailable to the fans' eyes were Y/n and Lando's interaction at the after party. Later the same evening, he approached her.

"Hey, congratulations again." He said with a grin on his face. "Your music is amazing, I couldn't imagine you not winning this award."

"Stop with the compliments, I'm gonna blush." Y/n laughed. "Nice to meet you. Lando Norris, isn't it?"

"Yeah, do you watch Formula One?"

"I'm going to be honest from the beginning and admit I did not, but I did my research and I just might start being a fan."

"If you're ever down for hearing firsthand gossip straight from the track, I'm at your service."

"I'd love to hear all the gossip over a coffe sometime."

"Let me give you my number then and I'll arrange something."

And so a few days later they had a coffee date. The date marked the beginning of a carefully hidden romance. They wanted to keep it a secret from the public eye, not wanting people prying on them, trying to estimate how long they'll last.

Keeping the relationship secret somehow came easy to them. They were seen on the coffee date indeed, however they made sure to have the next dates in private. The fans on both sides were literally clueless to the whole ongoing romance. Y/n had her tour, Lando had his races and it wasn't even a little bit suspicious how a lot concerts aligned with race weekends.

Unfortunately, one day Y/n went live on Instagram with her best friend. Unfortunately, because Y/f/n didn't know how to keep her mouth shut. Unfortunately, because Y/f/n gave away the big secret.

"You know, guys, we're gonna use lives as a way to spend time together," she joked, "I've been feeling a bit abandoned since Y/n has been spending so much time with her boyfriend. Even on tour and with his busy schedule, can you believe this?"

Y/n's eyes widened. "Y/f/n!" She scolded her friend.

"What? It's a joke, no worries, I can see you're finally happy and I'm happy for you!"

"Y/f/n! You weren't supposed to say that!"

But the damage was already done. There was nothing Y/n could say to save the situation. So instead she decided to start dropping subtle hints for the fans to guess. Maybe it was the right time to make the relationship public after five months. They couldn't hide it forever.

Y/n started the hint game when she was on Jimmy Fallon's show.

"Y/n Y/l/n, everybody!" Jimmy announced when the girl walked in and sat down on the armchair. "I haven't seen you in a year and so much happened during this time!"

"I know, I know," Y/n said with a smile. "I'm so glad I could make a quick pit stop here on my way to Montreal."

"I'm happy to have you here. You won an award, you got a boyfriend. How- how did that happen?"

Y/n chuckled at Jimmy's question, realizing it was the perfect opportunity to play the hint game. "Oh, life takes unexpected turns and sometimes you find yourself on a fast track to happiness."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "Anything you'd like to share about this mystery man?"

"You know, Jimmy, I've finally found someone who knows how to navigate the twists and turns in life."

The audience laughed and the speculations among fans skyrocketed as they tried to connect the dots from Y/n's playful hints.

The other time, Y/n was on a popular radio show. The host couldn't help but ask about the latest reveal of a big secret.

"You were left hurting really badly after your previous relationship," he spoke, "it's really good to see you finally happy."

"It was a big thing for me. Still is." The girl admitted. "My previous relationship made it hard to open up to a man like that again."

"What made you do it eventually then?"

"I decided life is too short for keeping things in the slow lane," Y/n chuckled, "and when you meet someone that can belt out a Taylor Swift song with the same passion as you, it's hard not to fall for them."

"So your mystery man is a Swiftie too? Any chance we might know him?"

"Oh, I bet many people who are listening right now would know him."

"Now you got us all intrigued, your fans wouldn't forgive me if I didn't ask for more."

Y/n grinned, "Well, he's practically flawless, except for one little detail. He's a scorpio. And let me tell you, when we're playing our silly little racing video games, his competitive scorpio side really comes out. It's all fun and games until his racing pride is at stake."

The host laughed. "I'm sure fans are already trying to guess who this mystery gamer is. And you, are you competitive?"

"Yes, totally. He's more experienced than I am, but it doesn't mean I won't try my hardest to beat him."

"Is there any trait you don't share?"

The girl nodded, "Yes, one thing I'm secretly jealous of. He's quite known for being able to fall asleep in the most uncomfortable conditions. I wish I could do that. I'm all about pillows and comfy blankets, but he can just doze off anywhere, anytime."

A few days later, in the warmth of Lando's bedroom, surrounded by the hum of city life outside the windows, Y/n brought up the topic with a playful glint in her eyes.

"You know, Lando, fans have been buzzing lately. It's quite entertaining."

"Well, you have started this yourself," Lando laughed, laying his head in his girlfriend's lap.

"Not me, it was Y/f/n. I just went with it and turned it into something fun for myself." Y/n defended herself. Her fingers started gently playing with Lando's hair.

"You do seem to be having a great time, leading your fans on and all that," he joked. "Are there chances they'll solve your mystery anytime soon?"

"I've seen a few tweets accusing you of being my secret boyfriend, but most people don't really believe that."

"What?" He sit up dramatically. He continued in a fake-offended voice. "Do they think I'm not good enough?"

Y/n giggled.

Lando's mock offense turned into a playful pout. "I can't believe they're doubting my boyfriend potential. I mean, come on, look at me!" He gestured theatrically at himself.

Y/n burst into laughter, "Maybe we should give them a little more to work with, stir the pot a bit."

Lando leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek. "You're a master of turning chaos into entertainment, you know that?"

"It's quite a compliment, coming from a Formula One driver."

Lando flashed a grin. "Well, we both have our talents, don't we? Maybe we should drop some subtle hints during a race?"

And so they waited months for the Grand Prix in Vegas, because that was where they could start rumours about getting married. Sure, they could get married spontaneously anywhere, but there was no better place than Las Vegas.

Thankfully they managed to keep the relationship secret all these months, breadcrumbing Y/n's fans. After the Vegas GP, Y/n and Lando where supposed to go for an afterparty, get 'drunk' and then 'married'.

Unfortunately, they plans changed the direction a bit with Lando's crash. Y/n's heart sank as she watched the unfolding drama on the big screens. The thrill of the race was replaced with concern for Lando's well-being. Plans for the afterparty and the playful hints about a fake marriage suddenly didn't matter anymore.

Emergency crews rushed onto the track, the anxious seconds felt like an eternity as they worked to help Lando get out of his racing car. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, the world around her blurring. The fact that he managed to walk away from the car was a small comfort.

Y/n's phone buzzed moment after Lando disappeared from her sight.

from: Lando

I'm okay, they're taking me to st vincent's hospital. Will update you soon. Love you xx

to: Lando

Be there in a second, see you soon

A shaky exhale escaped Y/n, she felt slightly relief and ran towards the exit. She was sure Lando wasn't okay, not after that crash, but at least he was conscious and walking on his own (although it could be the adrenaline). A moment later, when Y/n got into her own car, her phone buzzed again.

from: Lando

Yknow you could post a pic from the hospital, that would stir the pot

Y/n smiled at the massage. If he could think of that, he might had been better than she thought.

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred as she drove through the city streets, trying to get to the hospital as quick as possible. Despite the speed, the journey seemed to stretch in time.

Arriving at St. Vincent's hospital, Y/n rushed through the entrance, her heart pounding. The reception area looked like a maze in her anxious state, but she managed to find a nurse.

"I'm here for Lando Norris," the girl said.

The nurse looked her up and down. "Are you his family?"

"I'm his girlfriend."

"Then, unfortunately, I cannot let you see him."

"His family is in Europe, I'm the closest to family you can get here in Vegas."

"The closest, but not family. I'll ask you nicely to wait here for further information."

Y/n nodded with an angry expression on her face. She sat down in the waiting room, pulling out her phone and dialing the number of her manager.

"Hey, Mia," the singer said. "I need you to do something." Urgency and frustration were visible in her voice.

"What's going on, Y/n? Are you okay?" Mia's concerned voice came through the line.

"It's Lando. He's been in a crash during the race in Vegas, and they've taken him to St. Vincent's Hospital. I'm here, but they won't let me in because I'm not 'family.' That's so stupid."

"I'm sorry, Y/n, but I still don't see what you want me to do."

"I want you to make a donation for the hospital from my account. Send them like $100,000. I think it'll be enough to let me in."

"Okay, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Mia. I appreciate it more than you know."

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Anxiety lingered in the air. But there was no way they wouldn't let her in after that.

Y/n didn't know how much time had passed. She felt as if all she did was staring at a wall in front of her, ocassionally moving her eyes to the floor or the ceiling. She was fidgeting with her fingers as the same nurse approached her.

"Miss Y/l/n, you're allowed to see Mr Norris in the room 305."

Without a word, Y/n rushed to the room. She found Lando lying in the hospital bed, his gaze turning towards the door as she walked in.

"Lando." Y/n breathed his name, rushing to his side and taking his hand in hers. "I was so worried. And they didn't want to let me in at first."

He managed a dazed smile, his eyes slightly glazed. "Hey, you're real, right? This isn't happening in my head?"

Y/n chuckled. "Yes, I'm real. It's me."

He squinted at her. "You sure? You look like a beautiful hallucination."

"Well, if I'm a hallucination, at least a beautiful one."

"I feel like I'm floating on marshmallow clouds, but you're the most beautiful marshmallow I've ever seen."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh. "I think you might be on some strong painkillers, love."

"Ah, that explains the marshmallows. They're having a party in my head," Lando said with a dreamy expression.

Y/n burst into laughter, the tension of the earlier moments disappearing in the room.

"Did you know," Lando continued, "that racing is like trying to catch a rainbow? And if you're lucky, you might find a pot of gold at the end."

"Is there an Irish leprechaun as well?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe that's who's been guiding me all this time."

"You gotta ask him to make the rainbow less slippery next time then."

He nodded solemnly. "I'll have a serious talk with him. No more slippery rainbows, only smooth, marshmallow clouds."

As they joked around, Y/n couldn't ignore the quiet concern for Lando's well-being. She gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. "You scared me, you know? Seeing you crash like that."

"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise I'll be more careful next time. But you have to promise me something too.""

"What is it?"

"You'll visit me in the marshmallow cloud world sometimes. It gets lonely up there."

Y/n laughed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll visit anytime you want."

"You know, even in the middle of all this craziness, having you here feels like finding that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."

As the night carried on, the hospital room became a cocoon shielding them from everything that layed outside its walls. Y/n found herself falling asleep on an armchai next to Lando's bed.

In the quiet ambiance of the night, Lando's mind wandered through the whimsical landscapes of his medication-induced thoughts. He couldn't help but marvel at the coincidence that brought Y/n into his life.

It all started with handing her an award. It seemed like it happened a whole lifetime ago and now, there they were, in the middle of marshmallow clouds.

Y/n, nestled in the armchair, breathed softly in her sleep, completely unaware of Lando's reflections. Soon enough, Lando allowed himself to succumb to the gentle pull of sleep as well.

[moltensmusings]

I still remember the anger of watching people try to paint Fjord as someone infantalizing jester for going along with Marion's request to protect her rather than shutting her down. How people were like "FJORD SHOULD KNOW JESTER IS STRONG HES SO DUMB AND DOESN'T DESERVE HER" as they tried insulting fjord and jester while pitting them against other ships.

Even back then I knew their take was so void of the actual context of the show but my anger made it difficult to articulate.

Fjord knows jester is strong. Like the reoccurring joke of her being one of the strongest characters in the nine makes he clear. He's seen her fight, he's aware of her strengths. Him going along with Marion's request is what you do to any parent that is worried about their kid. It's simply being a good friend. You agree to take care of your friend and keep them safe because it helps put their parent at ease and let's them trust that their kid will be well Ioved.

Telling Marion "she can handle herself" would've felt like a dismissal of Marion's concerns. And even beyond that, jester herself wasn't phased by the request because that's simply the type of mother Marion was. Jester was the most important thing in her life. Her wanting to make sure these people she barely knew put her daughter above all else (especially the one it was clear her daughter had a crush on) make sense. Turning it into some "fjord doesn't believe in jester/this is sexist" moment is to twist the original narrative to serve your own purpose.

And this wasn't even the only time the fandom try to pretend fjord was shitty compared to the others. Several people acted like only fjord was doubtful of the traveler/tried to convince jester to be wary of him. The whole group was wary of the traveler. And for good reason. To them, some cult like figure had such a hold on their friend that she would do anything for him and they didn't know how far that extended. Throughout the story most of the nein either make comments about him being weird or make fun of the idea.

Fjord isn't alone in this. Is it right? No not really. But trying to push him as the problem to raise your faves and justify their romance with jester over him comes off making it seem like you willfully misunderstood canon moments of the show to feed your own interpretation.

It is perfectly fine and valid to not like a ship, but I'm so tired of people altering the canon narrative and acting like fjorester wasn't built up or didn't have moments just to feed their own preference.

[lemotmo]

Their downward spiral has been fun 😊. But everything she said is fact.

Q. Your boy wonder blocked those of us who don't love his boy wonder. Class act you got there.

Q. We get it Oliver we say Tommy you say block. Still want us to pretend he's not a brat?

Q. I asked your leader about his onscreen boyfriend and he blocked me. Actually he told me I was getting blocked and then he blocked me. Very mature of him.

Q. What kind of petulant child actually takes the time to go through a comment section of 900 plus comments like that photo had and manually deletes certain comments and then blocks the person who sent the comment? And you want us to respect him????

Q. He's so pathetic 🙃. How are you not mortified by how embarrassing his behavior has been? Nevermind you are you will just pretend you're not.

Q. Oliver is basically giving his fandom the middle finger and yet he has the nerve to get butt hurt because we all like Lou more. What an immature brat.

A. So this is a very small sample of the asks I have received since Oliver went on his blocking spree. I wanted to include a sample because every single person who has sent me a complaint that he blocked you has intentionally not disclosed the question or comment you left that got you blocked. The only thing that's clear is they all involved Tommy in some way. And based on your pattern it's not hard to imagine that most of those comments probably included insults of some kind directed at anybody not Tommy/Lou. Oliver is not a brat. Oliver is tired. They are all tired. The sad thing is if you all had allowed the story to just unfold and taken it for what it was, Oliver would have been very kind to you. Because he's an absolute teddy bear of a man. He never gave you all false hope. He's been the one you should have been paying attention too because he has the one who's been honest with you. He never would have shipped it but he would have been respectful of you shipping it. And when Tommy's part was complete, that character, and you, probably would have even received a thank you post of some kind from Oliver because he loves Buck, and he would have been grateful for the role Tommy played in getting Buck ready for his next chapter. That's the kind of person Oliver is. The Oliver you all are seeing now you brought on yourselves. He is a petty king and once you push him over the line it's over. You all have made it your mission to make him, and his friends miserable because they refuse to encourage your delusion. You deserve being blocked by him and I hope he continues to do it. There's no need for him to subject himself to your abuse. He doesn't have to allow Tommy content if he doesn't want it there.

The real reason you all are so upset today is that you're rapidly running out of delusions to cling too. They have systematically eliminated or debunked every one of your talking points, and that's what actually angers you. Examples:

'OMG Oliver and Lou are total besties look how much they love being together' = Oliver completely ignores anything and everything Tommy/Lou related. Doesn't like any Tommy content, doesn't follow Lou on any social media. Zero BTS interactions. Publicly admits to blocking people who demand he fawn over it.

'Oliver and Ryan clearly hate one another and only tolerate each other because Buddie fans are insane' = Oliver and Ryan take, share, and post amazing b&w photos of one another. Loads of BTS content of the joking around and having a good time together on set. Follow each other on social media. Openly discuss and like Buddie content. Admit to reading Buddie fanfics and watching fan edits. Hang out at each other's houses and play around with Instagram filters.

'Lou's going to be bumped up to main: = release cast lost proving that didn't happen and he didn't even appear on the call sheet

' Buddie will never happen because Ryan said he won't play queer/gay' = Ryan does several interviews openly discussing the Buddie possiblity. Refers to Eddie as queer coded, starts using only gender neutral pronouns. Films a BTS video implying he hooked up with Peter Krause.

'Tim sent us a DM telling us spoilers' = Tim gives an interview flat out dismissing this.

This is the reality and it's making your delusions increasingly difficult to sell. Your own people are starting to wake up and as a result you turned your venom on your own people. And what's insane is if you had just been basic level decent you would have found plenty of fandom people who would have let you fan girl over Tommy. We have all been there. We have all fallen for a minor side character the show was never going to care about. I promise you people would have been kind to you about it. But you followed the lead of a crazy person and believed being horrible and nasty to people would get you what you wanted. You're in the position you are because of yourselves. No one else is responsible or to blame. And that's why no one feels sorry for you. Everyone is exhausted and that clearly includes the cast as well. What they're doing is hilarious and deserved.

Thank you Nonny! I do appreciate you dropping this in my inbox.

All right, Oliver is obviously as fed up with all this craziness as we are. I say 'good for him' that he is actively curating his online spaces. He is just doing what all of us do on social media: blocking the people we don't want to deal with, deleting the comments that contain topics of things we don't want to see, deleting comments with hatred in them, deleting comments where anons are shitting on our friends...

As for the rest of this excellent reply?

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[outrunningthedark]

The weird thing about fandom, particularly 9-1-1, is the same people that will post about a teenager's autonomy and the importance of having a safe space, will instantly take that away if it means their uwu character is sad.

Eddie fucked up. Eddie fucked up bad. It isn't the first time Eddie fucked up. Chris did not fuck up. Chris deserves a safe space where he can deal with the damage Eddie did.

Eddie sending Buck to try and talk to Chris, just showed he did not know how to deal with the situation appropriately.

Chris is where he needs to be, with people that love him and are giving him space to deal.

I think what's most frustrating (besides the ableism/infantilizing, obv) is that this is another one of those instances where enough of the story line has been laid out for us that we're supposed to be able to pick up on whatever isn't being spelled out because there isn't enough time. Did Helena purposely plan Chris's birthday party during the call to be malicious? Or maybe, just maybe, she tried to separate the party from the call so Chris wouldn't be distracted and taken away from his friends, but Chris wasn't having it. Maybe the "compromise" was that Chris talk to his dad for a few minutes and then go back to his party. Except Chris did not want to be on that call. As evidenced by his refusal to even speak. To anyone. I know people like to pretend a certain portion of 7x10 didn't happen, but 7x10 very clearly established that Chris was the one who called his grandparents. Chris wanted to leave. Chris didn't even want to have a conversation with Eddie or Buck before he left because he didn't want them trying to convince him to stay. Just because the expectation was that Chris would come home or agree to come home in an episode called "No Place Like Home" - and spoiler alert: that's not the title anymore - doesn't mean the show was actually going to wrap things up that quickly, especially when 7x10 never got around to having Eddie admit that he needed to work on himself before Chris should come home. Three months with no visible progress not only supports Chris's frustration and anger because Eddie's clearly not doing enough to make him want to go back to LA (if Chris felt his dad was genuinely remorseful versus mad at himself for getting caught he'd be nicer to him, come tf on), it allows the show to have Eddie's self-discovery play out on screen instead of starting s8 like what he put his son through was nbd.

[eww-y-tho]

Okay, fair warning, this is long, so tldr, it's a rant about the "Debling is better" and "Colin should have suffered more" take, so just so you know, you know?

I can accept disliking friends to lovers or thinking they don't have chemistry (even though I don't agree with it and I think the people who say that don't know what chemistry is or means) except this bizarrely widespread Debling take and the "Colin hasn't suffered enough," take because that makes it clear that you weren't paying any attention to the season.

I'm sorry, but Penelope has been through the wringer. Her family only cares about her if she marries and treats her like trash otherwise, makes her feel inferior and incapable of being loved and cherished, and broke down her confidence. She is right when she says the ton considers her a spinster and a laughingstock, and Cressida among other women consistently sabotages her. She's not in a position where she can make demands and her main goal at the beginning of the season is to literally get away from her family.

Her (honestly not best) best friend has abandoned her and linked with Cressida and engages in gossip about her. Obviously, Eloise still cares for her a lot, but Penelope doesn't know that. She's lost hope that the one man who's always treated her well and with respect and actually listens to what she has to say before making a judgement and can speak freely about her deepest thoughts would ever love her back because of one stupid comment.

We know throughout her character arc that Penelope's yearning for love and a passionate romance, especially with Colin, has been a consistent desire for her.

As this is the darkest point in her character arc, the story demands that she deserves the one thing she's asking for: love. A person who will value her and cherish her and make her feel special and sexy and worthy of being with someone.

aka not Lord Debling.

Like, I don't know how you can stand on two feet with this argument because you're literally supporting Portia's opinion. You know, the character that's been insufferable the entire first half of s3 (and presumably the second half).

Colin is right when he says that Pen hardly knows Debling compared to him. Again, it's not about "which one you like better," it's about Penelope's character arc and what she needs to be fulfilled in the plot.

Also, anyone who says Colin hasn't suffered enough, like what??? Yes, Penelope's been rejected so many times it's almost ridiculous, but it's not like Colin wasn't affected by his denial/obliviousness/naivety either. He was depriving himself of the love of his life without even knowing it.

His intrinsic, hopeless romantic nature was beaten out of him with every subsequent season until he succumbed to society's expectations and pretended to be a rake despite his love and respect for the women in his life, and being a people pleaser because of his experiences literally stunted him.

S1 was him being deceived into a romantic relationship with someone who didn't love him and was using him, S2 was just a mess of an identity crisis mixed with a healthy dose of alcoholic beverages. He felt aimless in life and was isolated. His only saving grace was Penelope and her letters, so it's no surprise when Pen stops replying to them Colin freaks out some more.

People literally want to use Colin as a punching bag. His ONLY sin in the story is making the 2x8 comment. And I hate to be that guy but compare that to Anthony, who was at the altar with his love interest's SISTER.

Anyway, yeah, rant over.