#the million dollar man himself is doing great though

[kinomiakai]

can I just talk about my cat. for a second. he is such a social little guy. Not only does he constantly hang out in the same room and yell whenever he sees us to say hi, he was just sitting along the back of my spouse's chair and once my spouse left, he meowed a whole bunch and then came to sit on the back of my chair. he's still sitting here now. he needs a buddy!!!!!! I love him!!!!

[ahqkas]

“MILLION DOLLAR MAN — bruce wayne.

PAIRING! bruce wayne 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS! bruce met you through a dating app (his sons’ doing, really) and the temptation to invite you over for christmas is getting harder to resist WORD COUNT! 3.6k WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, bruce is literally down bad for reader in this one, unedited + lmk if found! NOTES! for nat & based on this req. , header bellow belongs to @/v6que © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE AVOIDED RELATIONSHIPS LIKE A SOLDIER DODGING BULLETS, each attempt adding yet another layer to the armor he wore daily. He didn’t need them, the women, or so he told himself. They entered his life easily — at his own charity galas, where one pretty bird thought she could get a kiss from him by the end of the night. Female admirers who ate up his charming smiles and sharp eyes seemed to flock around him at all times. And those countless girls who were lured in by the Wayne name, the status, the wealth.

And Bruce gave them the attention they craved from him.

The women served their purpose as brief districtions, companions who helped him maintain his public image, but none of them really mattered to him.

They kept the colder side of his bed warm, but never his heart.

It wasn’t that Bruce didn’t want love — some part of him did, but that part was buried under the weight of Batman. Allowing himself to lose the walls around him and find an attachment in a woman wasn't something his alter ego was okay with, not with the way he’d been living. And another part convinced him that his duties as Gotham’s protector, with all his scars and wounds, didn’t make him a possible object for such things. Love and vigilantism didn’t mingle together well.

Maybe that’s why his own sons and personal butler teamed up on him. Batman was a hero to many, but with how much it damaged Bruce’s internal beliefs, it would ruin him soon enough.

It started as something innocent (but it seemed the wolf was clothed in sheep’s wool): Dick, his oldest, had teased him about his non-existent love life during a training session in the Batcave.

The large space was full with flickering lights coming from the monitors and grunts from the fighting men. Sweat filled the air, masculine and strong, but that only indicated to the hard work they were doing. Training wasn’t easy, they liked to train with the maximum intensity ( it was kinda needed, too ) and it showed. From their damp hair and glistening skin to the rippling muscles underneath their clothes.

“You know, Bruce,” his son started when he blocked yet another strike coming from the man in question. A puff of air left his mouth upon the attack. Not fair. “for someone who spends his nights saving people, you sure are terrible at saving yourself from eternal loneliness.”

Bruce delivered another jab, this one directed straight at Dick’s weak point. “Not now, Dick.”

But his son was nothing if not persistent and he always got what he wanted, whether it was with or without serious consequences. “I’m serious. When was the last time you went on a date? And don’t try to tell me you had one on your arm during the last charity event. That doesn’t count.”

Both of them fully knew Bruce’s arm candies were way more interested in his name and money than in his heart and soul. The truth made his jaw muscles tighten at the realization.

“My personal life is irrelevant to my work.”

Dick took the opportunity and circled the older man like a predator catching the prey’s scent of blood. A sweet weakness, that one. He’d be stupid if he didn’t take the chance. “Is it though? I mean, sure, you’re great at taking down supervillains and brooding on top of high rooftops, but even Batman needs a little action sometimes. The different kind of action, of course. Or are you planning to spend the rest of your life married to the job?”

Bruce swiped his right leg toward Dick’s shins, trying to take him down like he was the said supervillain but the acrobat jumped right on time, avoiding Bruce’s attempt with a grin on his face.

He landed on his feet and crossed his arms at his chest, leaning the weight of his body against one leg. The playfulness disappeared from both his voice and expression and instead, seriousness graced him whole. “Seriously, Bruce, even Alfred’s worried. He brought it up the other day while we were decorating the tree. Something about how the manor feels colder than usual this year.”

“The heating system is fine.”

With Jason gone, it was the truth. His second son had this strange relationship with all the members of the family. Off and on. Off and on. No one truly knew where they stood in Jason’s eyes but he made the effort and showed up on Christmas Eve the other year upon receiving Alfred’s invitation.

Bruce doubted he would show up two years in a row.

“That’s not what he meant, and you know it,” Dick pressed, and effectively added more salt into Bruce’s wounds. It stung and it fucking hurt. As much as Batman was ruthless, it didn’t mean the man under the mask was resistant against the pain his life brought. “You’re not getting any younger, B. It wouldn’t kill you to let someone in. And I don’t mean us. Try to meet someone who isn’t friendly with a criminal record.”

The older man could only stare helplessly at the other. Those words his son, partner, spoke were loud, crawling their way into his mind and much to his dismay, his heart as well.

Before he could voice his dismissal, a younger voice called out. It was familiar in a way family tended to be.

“You are wasting your breath, Grayson. Father has neither the time nor the inclination to entertain your nonsense,” his youngest son declared into the space of Batcave, his voice ringing out and echoing every single word. The blood son, Damian Wayne.

The father didn’t even flinch, just let out a deep sigh through his nose. It was as usual between those two, always bickering from Damian’s side and teasing remarks from Dick’s. You could mistake the blood running through their system as one, if not for the physical differences. They were brothers in all but red.

“Damian,” Dick started in that lecturing tone he’d always seemed to use with the younger boy, “when was the last time you saw Bruce here even try to have a social life?”

Damian rolled his eyes, the green disappearing behind his eyelids before they reappeared, rougher than they were. “The so called ‘social life’ you’re referring to consists of women who barely last through dinner. Why would he waste his energy on distractions when Gotham requires his full attention?”

“Because even Batman needs a break. You know, normal human things? Like dating, smiling, not dying alone in this cave surrounded by bats?”

“If Father is content with his choices, who are you to meddle? Unlike you, he does not require constant companionship to validate his existence.”

“Ouch,” Dick put his palm against his heart in a mocking manner, feigning hurt as his lips formed a pout. “You’ve got a real gift for the Christmas spirit, don’t you?”

The younger son narrowed his eyes at his supposed brother. The constant bickering was almost normal in their lives so far, and nothing seemed to be changing any time soon. He had to learn how to live with the excuse of a brother, although he started to form a light liking towards him. He wasn’t so bad. “I only speak the truth,” his green irises flicked to Bruce. “Though it is peculiar he tolerates your interference. Perhaps even Father has realized how pathetic his current romantic life—or lack thereof—appears.”

The object of the conversation let out another sigh, this one loud enough for the boys to hear. Their gazes snapped toward Bruce with accusingly great speed.

“If you two are done debating my personal life, there’s actual work to be done.”

He missed the glance his oldest threw at the youngest. He missed the look filled with amusement and a plan that was already brewing. He missed the nod they gave each other, although Dick’s was more pronounced and determined.

The next few hours were spent creating Bruce’s dating app profile.

The final result was the definition of real sugar daddy vibes. Every detail had been debated (mostly argued over though) and thought through, so to say the boys were satisfied with it was an understatement. The oldest prided in the work, saying how it would get so many women to reply which would eventually lead to the right one. The middle one Dick and Damian (only Dick) dragged into the activity beamed up once the profile was set while the youngest scoffed and scowled during the entire process.

During the next evening, the boys showed the main man his new account.

Bruce was left speechless upon seeing the bright screen flash before his eyes. Not a single word was muttered as he watched his boys showing him the app and explaining how exactly it worked (he’d never used a dating app before all this so bear with him). The main photo on the profile was a candid one of him, the one Cass had taken on a sunny day in the Wayne Manor gardern. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the long sleeves rolled up past his elbows as the muscles of his forearms bulged up. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the sunlight casting shadows across his sharp features and Bruce had to admit they chose a good photo.

It wasn’t intimidating, but it wasn’t exactly friendly as well. The good old middle.

The boys knew he was convinced to give it a try when he waved them off with a deep sigh slipping past his lips.

The game was on.

It was past the midnight when he lied in his bed, propped against one too many pillows and wondered why he was still scrolling through the damned dating app. It was late—far past the time he should have been out on patrol, but Red Hood and Red Robin got it covered for him.

Bruce wasn’t looking for anything specific, really. If he were honest, this whole situation felt out of place for him. Swiping through the profiles was more like an exercise for his thumb.

First was Madison K. Her profile opened with flashy colors that immediately put Bruce into a doubtful situation. Were all these women going to be like this? Madison was beautiful and her looks screamed professionalism: her makeup was done flawlessly, adorning her bright eyes and full lips. She looked like she belonged on a cover for a fashion magazine, not a dating app. Her bio made his thumb swipe left.

‘Manifesting my best life. CEO of my own happiness. Looking for someone who’s successful, ambitious, and knows how to treat me like a queen.’

The next account’s bio made him grimace and swipe left once again.

‘Looking for someone who can keep me living the dream. If you’re successful, generous, and ready to spoil me, let’s talk.”

At this point, Bruce was ready to delete the dating app his boys set up and enjoy the rest of his night. Most of the profiles he swiped through were simply bland to him. Nothing felt genuine. Right. It was safe to say he was losing the hope Dick had set in him earlier in the evening. Until he stumbled upon your profile.

The account stood out among the others—simple, elegant, but with a certain amount of warmth that seemed genuine. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat once he scrolled further and came across your photo. The picture showed you in a cozy cafe, the one Steph adored so much for their cinnamon roll buns. A soft smile danced on your pretty face, highlighting the curve of your cheeks as you looked off to the side. You captured Bruce in a way the others didn’t.

You looked like a fawn surrounded by hungry wolves. You were admirable while they were craving wealth and status. Two different sides of a coin, but Bruce had already known his pick.

Your bio was sincere, a sight the man liked to see.

‘I enjoy the little moments — finding beauty in the simple things. I believe in kindness, and I’m looking for someone who values honesty and a deep conversation.’

His mind flicked briefly toward the countless hours he spends in the cave, surrounded by work and worries. You seemed like the one who could understand the balance between the quiet and the loud, someone who could exist in both of his worlds without losing that spark you held in your gaze.

Before he could overthink it, Bruce clicked on the “message” button.

Once the screen of your non-existent chat appeared, his mind went blank and all he was capable of was to stare mindlessly at the phone. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but no words came to him. What did one say to someone like you? He wasn’t used to thinking ahead when it came to women. This was a new field. And he couldn’t screw up.

Finally, his fingers moved before his mind could think of whatever embarrassing thing it was capable of.

> Hey, I noticed your profile and wanted to reach out. There’s something about your words that struck a chord with me. I’d like to know more about you.

And that’s how the two of you started your relationship, or whatever you could call it. Neither of you voiced it as official, but that was okay. He hadn’t expected to feel this way, not so soon. And yet it came at him, crashing like a large wave of emotions every time you were around. You changed everything for him.

Your conversations became the highlight of his days.

His ears perked up every single time without a fail when he heard the soft ‘ping!’ of the notification, already convinced it was from you (and it 98 percent was). Whether it was early in the morning before he started working in the chaotic Wayne Enterprises or late at night when the Batcave was quiet and felt at peace. You were always there with him.

You were thoughtful, generous, and refreshingly kind. You asked him questions that no one else dared to: what he wanted from life, what made him happy, what kept him awake at night. You didn’t flinch at his silence. You didn’t push him to give answers he wasn’t ready to share. You understood him in a way only a few people did.

Piece by piece, he let you into his world — not that part filled with constant danger and threats, but that part that longed for something real.

By the time Christmas approached, Bruce was sure of one thing: he wanted you in his life.

The holiday was just around the corner, filling the air with joy and gratitude as it always did. The snow was blanketing the streets with white powder, and although many people were complaining about the cold, it had its charm.

Christmas had always been about family for Bruce, about gathering around the tree and full table with the people who mattered most. It was lonely at first, after the death of his parents, but over the years, Alfred had made it work. The table was always full of tasty food the kids adored and presents Bruce knew would make them more than happy were neatly waiting for them every morning after Christmas Eve.

This year though, Bruce wanted it to be a little different. He wanted you to be part of it.

You might actually fit into the chaos of the Wayne family — the teasing and playful banters between you, Dick, and Tim would be absolute gold to hear. You probably even could handle Damian’s wit which was something his father would like to see. He could picture you smiling, holding back your own remarks. The idea of you sitting beside him at the long dining table, sharing their traditions, made his chest feel warm in a way he wasn’t used to.

That night, he sent you a message.

> Are you free on Christmas Eve?

Your response came in quickly, as it always did. Bruce’s heart thumped against the bones of his ribs.

> I am. Why?

He hesitated for a bit, overthinking his decision.

> I’d like you to join me for dinner. It’s a family thing but I’d really like for you to be there.

> Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

> You wouldn’t be intruding.

Bruce could picture the light frown between your brows and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. You often did it unconsciously, never knowing how pretty you looked this way. But even as he pictured your face, a part of him was growing more nervous about the situation. Would you agree to an event this serious? Spend Christmas with him. And his family. Or were you coming up with excuses right now? He wouldn’t blame you.

> Then I’d love to come.

His heart skipped a beat and that night, Bruce went to bed feeling a little lighter than he usually did.

Snow blanketed the long driveway leading up to Wayne Manor and for once, Bruce wasn’t thinking about the pressure of Batman or the chaos the boys would definitely stir up tonight. His attention was entirely focused on the one making your way towards him. He stood just outside the grand entrance, dressed in a dark, perfectly tailored suit that fit him like a glove. The soft crunch of tires on the white powder alerted him to your arrival, and as your car pulled up, Bruce started to feel the nervousness. He adjusted his tie with a single hand.

When you stepped out, his breath caught.

You were breathtakingly beautiful. Dressed in an inky black that hugged your figure in all the right places, the fabric shimmered under the outdoor lights of the mansion. The smile you gave him when your eyes met melted all the nerves that had been harboring in his system. He was finally calm and composed, for what seemed like the first time in the evening.

“You’re early,” Bruce pointed out softly when you walked up the stairs to meet him in front of the door, and his eyes sparkled with little stars at the sight of you. How did he get so lucky? “You look stunning, by the way.”

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting. And thank you. You clean up well, too, Bruce.”

Your gaze held a playful edge in it as you accepted his hand, locking your palm around his bulging biceps and squeezing warmly. The touch added the missing piece of the puzzle Bruce was trying to solve while his cheeks warmed a rosy pink under your influence without any hesitation. The gesture felt natural, like it always belonged there.

The two of you approached the doors of the manor in a shared silence, although it didn’t feel a bit awkward. You took a moment to take in the place. It was like something out of your childhood dreams — tall, arched windows glowing with the soft light of a dozen garlands lining the entryway. The faint hum of holiday music and the occasional sound of laughter echoed through the manor.

It was Bruce’s home.

“Do you always go this big for Christmas?” you voiced a question that's been sitting on your mind since the moment you saw the large Christmas tree from the entryway to Bruce’s living room. Decorated with lots of ornaments, it looked lovely, accompanied by a heap of presents.

“Alfred insists,” admitting with a soft chuckle, Bruce rubbed the nape of his neck as he led you deeper into his home. “And the boys like the holidays. I want them to have the best.”

The scent of pine and cinnamon enveloped your senses the further you moved. The sounds grew louder, too. You awe made him feel lighter somehow. The dining room at Wayne Manor was nothing short of spectacular this night, with the long mahogany table adorned with a dozen of flickering candles and plates of food that looked like it belonged in a holiday spread for a cookbook.

You were sitting beside Bruce (he kind of insisted anyway), your hand occasionally brushing against his. He helped you settle into the chair which earned a teasing glance from Dick. Speaking of his oldest son, he was sitting across from you with an easy grin that told you some questions would come your way sooner or later. Tim was at Dick’s right, while Damian occupied the chair from the other side of his father.

The evening was more than successful in your opinion. Steph asked you about your favorite literature, while Tim quizzed you on trivia about Gotham (which you surprisingly got all right). Damian, after much persistence from Dick, shared a story about his latest art project, though he kept glancing at you as if trying to gauge your reaction.

Through it all, Bruce remained by your side.

When the night finally came to an end, and everyone drifted to their own space of the manor, Bruce walked you to the entrance with a gentle hand against the small of your back.

“Thank you,” his gaze met yours as he handed you your coat, effortlessly helping you slip your arms into the sleeves. “For coming tonight. For putting up with them.”

You gifted him with the most precious kind of a present; your smile, smaller hands reaching up to adjust the collar of his dark suit. “Of course. They’re wonderful, Bruce. I enjoyed myself tonight.”

For a man who othen found himself at loss for words when it came to talking in emotions, Bruce found himself smiling softly with his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. Because for the first time, Christmas didn’t feel like an obligation. It felt like a new beginning.

[hairyjocktf]

The New Cub

Jaden was a real estate agent in Denver, and quite a good one at that. He prided himself on that fact, having been the top agent at his firm for four years running. He was only 27 too, having gotten his license after high school with ease. Once he got that first commission check he never looked back. This had been a big week for him, closing a deal on a multi-million dollar house that was netting him a nice bonus. It’d taken a lot of work and effort, but as he walked into his apartment just hours after the signing he breathed a sigh of relief. He’d planned to take a few days off as a reward, some time to pamper himself like he deserved. He walked into his room, stripping off the well fitted blazer before undoing the buttons on his shirt. Water gushed from the faucet as he filled his tub with a warm bath and opened the windows, letting in that cool fall air. His belt and pants fell to the floor next as he admired his slim body in the mirror. 

Jaden was the ideal twink, with a tall and thin form that he kept supple and hairless with a meticulous daily routine. He slowly rubbed his hands down over his tight stomach, feeling the smooth skin he loved before sliding off his underwear. The warm water bubbled as he stepped in, sliding his body below the surface as water cascaded across his shaved legs. The tension in his shoulders melted away, the water sapping away the stress of the week. Birdsong echoed in through the open windows, and Jaden entered a state of pure relaxation. For all of five minutes, at least. Unable to be alone with his thoughts for too long, his long, near skeletal arm reached from the tub and grasped his phone. This may be his vacation but he sure wasn’t going to spend it at home relaxing.

He quickly opened up grindr. He glanced at the dozens of messages from the last few days but didn’t open a single one, opting instead to scroll and scroll, unsure of what he was actually looking for. Every few seconds he would get a tap or message, he knew his profile worked. It had for years, with his perfectly smooth and slim body appealing to a wide audience. He normally went for the tech guys who were in perfect shape, but that didn’t seem appealing today. Neither did a younger twink. He was about to put the app down when he got a message from what looked to be a guy in his late 30s, but in great shape. Good definition, and fully shaved, he noted.

“Afternoon gorgeous,” the message said, “got any weekend plans? Been looking for a handsome man to spoil a bit.” Jaden paused. Normally he didn’t care for offers like this, but he’d been unsatisfied from anything else so far. Plus, this was his weekend to spoil himself, why not let someone else help out? He typed out a response.

“Hey there :) Would love to be treated nice this weekend, what do you suggest?” He read it and deleted it all in disgust. “Thanks babe, I’d say I deserve a bit of spoiling this weekend, what's your offer?” he typed again, and then sent. A few seconds later a reply had already shown up.

“I’ve got a nice house with a mountain view, and I can promise the best meal of your life and the best sex you’ll ever have. Your choice for the details, of course,” the man said with a winky emoji. Not having to cook dinner was pretty appealing, and if it turned out to be mediocre he could always leave. It was just the first night of his time off after all. 

“Sounds lovely,” Jaden sent back, “Where’s this beautiful estate of yours?” A location appeared just seconds later. It was out in the western fringes of the city, a hefty drive. He knew the neighborhood though, and it was a nice one. Couldn’t hurt to give this guy a shot, he thought, rising out of the now lukewarm tub waters.

After a lengthy session of getting ready, Jaden set out for this luxury evening he’d been promised. The sun was already beginning to dip in the sky, promising a lovely sunset over the mountains. He pulled off the highway after about thirty minutes, navigating the twisting residential roads before finally arriving at a slightly secluded house at the top of a ridge. His first reaction was to how beautiful the property was, being a realtor and all. The view the man had offered seemed to be true, now he just had to test the rest of it. He checked himself in the rear view mirror, making sure his hair was tufted just right before stepping out into the cool evening air. He walked up the steps to a heavy oak door and rang the bell, hearing it echo inside. Heavy footsteps shook the ground as they approached, the door unlocked, and Jaden’s eyes went wide.

The man in the doorway was not the man he’d seen on grindr. This guy was a full-fledged daddy bear, older, fatter, and much, much hairier. He answered the door in just his tight underwear, showing off his large body that was completely coated in hair. Numerous tattoos were buried under the fur, barely recognizable. A thick salt and pepper beard adorned his face, which wore a wide grin.

“Well look at you kiddo, glad you showed!” the man said with a deep, smoky voice.

Jaden was taken aback, he’d never been in this situation. It wasn’t like the photos he saw were just a little out of date, this was an entirely different guy! At a loss of what to say, all he managed to get out was, “You… you’re not the guy in the pics!”

The man laughed, “Oh those photos, they were of my last project, don’t worry about them. Name’s Glenn. Why don’t you come in?” He took a step forward and reached out his hand.

Jaden’s brain was on red alert, he’d been catfished, lied to, and he needed to leave immediately. The old man in front of him was not at all what he was into, but that was the least of his concern at this point. What did he mean by ‘last project’? Why would he use pics that weren’t him? 

But suddenly, as Glenn stepped forward, a warm air washed over him coming from inside. It was smoky, almost rustic, but also smelled strongly of sweat and musk. His numerous trains of thought came to a screeching halt. He took a deep inhale through his nose, the smell dulling his senses in a way he couldn’t possibly notice. The outstretched hand looked so welcoming suddenly, and hadn’t he been promised dinner? The worries about the man were quickly fading, replaced by feelings of comfort. He took Glenn’s hand and stepped through the doorway without another thought. 

The inside of the house was larger than he’d expected, decorated almost in the style of a mountain cabin. It was cozy, with lots of bookshelves and wood paneling that had fallen out of style among his customers, but he strangely liked it here. Glenn led him through multiple rooms until reaching a large patio overlooking the mountains, the sunset still gaining colors in the background. Glenn sat him down on a large sofa.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back with some food,” he said before trotting back into the house. Jaden stared out over the vista, wondering briefly why he’d said yes, before that thought too fell out of his mind. His mind was relaxed, yet a little foggy, almost similar to the feeling of poppers. He slouched further into the cushions waiting for Glenn to return with whatever feast he’d prepared. He caught himself even drooling at the thought, which shook him somewhat out of his daze, he couldn’t be acting like that. Just then Glenn walked back out with a huge plate of lamb chops, still sizzling. He set it down on a nearby table and motioned for Jaden to join him.

He sat down at the table and looked over the spread Glenn had prepared. The man hadn’t lied, it was an impressive feast. Jaden usually didn’t eat red meat but something about tonight felt different. As soon as Glenn sat down that same strong scent returned. This time it was more pungent, more reminiscent of the smell of sweat, and it made that foggy feeling return stronger than it’d initially been. But Jaden forgot about it when Glenn looked over with a smile.

“I think you’ll like this, son, it’s a tried and true family recipe after all!” he exclaimed before digging in. The word son rang in Jaden’s ears for a moment before he too dug into the food.

Despite his previous aversion to red meat he scarfed it down; it was absolutely delicious. He barely had time to speak in between bites, but Glenn didn’t seem to mind, watching Jaden devour the meal he’d prepared. Soon enough, his plate was empty, and Glenn admired the bulging stomach he could see pressing against Jaden’s tight shirt.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” Jaden said between burps. What was going on with him? First eating all that food and now burping like some degenerate caveman? But he was far past caring, already entering a sort of food coma. Glenn got up and went back to the couch, gesturing for Jaden to follow. He did so eagerly and tucked himself under Glenn’s open arm. Jaden would have never previously hooked up with a bear, but he was surprised to enjoy the feeling of a large furry body embracing him. Even more surprising was how obviously his dick sprang to life in his pants when Glenn’s hand dipped under the fabric. Glenn pulled Jaden closer to him, smiling at him as he stealthily attached a testosterone patch on Jaden’s back. It was time to see how far he could take this one.

The combination of Glenn’s powerful musk and enormous meal had Jaden completely subdued, ready to accept anything. His thick hands glided over Jaden’s smooth skin, sending shivers through his body. No other guy had been this effective with just his hands. Glenn ramped it up from there, kissing up and down Jaden’s body, feeling him shudder with pleasure. He rubbed his own hairy body against Jaden’s hairless one, subliminally inflicting him with desires yet to be realized. He couldn’t wait to see what Jaden would become. The next few hours were a blur as the sun fell below the mountains and the stars lit their passionate embrace. Glenn edged Jaden for hours, keeping him on the brink of ecstasy. He could feel the prickle of hairs as they began resurfacing in Jaden’s shaved groin. Finally after hours he let Jaden finish, spraying cum all over his slim body. Glenn massaged it into his skin as they cuddled, and Jaden passed out shortly after. That was just the beginning, Glenn thought to himself as he applied another patch to the sleeping Jaden’s body. 

Jaden arose the next morning to the smell of breakfast in the making; Glenn was preparing another feast for him. His body was still sore from the night before, causing him to groan as he got out of the bed. Glenn poked his head into the room.

“Morning, handsome,” he said with a chipper voice, “food’s almost ready!”

“I appreciate it but I should probably head out,” Jaden replied, looking for his clothes on the floor.

“Naw, what’re you sayin�� that for? We’ve got plenty more time,” Glenn assured him, stepping further into the room. That same familiar musk washed over Jaden again, and just like that he was more agreeable.

“You’re right, and I’m starving,” he said with renewed energy. Glenn came back moments later with a platter stuffed with waffles, bacon, what must have been a dozen eggs, and more. The urge to stuff himself again took hold of Jaden, who tore his way through the breakfast. Glenn watched with a grin, seeing Jaden’s belly puff out just a little more than the night before. They spent the rest of the day cuddling, making out, having more sex. Jaden was in heaven, not noticing when Glenn applied new patches to his back after the first ones had fallen off. His thoughts about getting back to his apartment faded while Glenn’s thick scent fogged up his head. It all felt so good, why would he want to leave?

That evening they showered together, Glenn’s sweat covering Jaden along with his own cum. He sensually washed Jaden’s body with his custom soap, scented like pine and infused some ingredients to encourage hair growth. He felt up and down Jaden’s body, noticing some areas that weren’t quite so smooth anymore. Hairs had begun to surface not only in his groin, but across his thighs, and even on his chest. Just small pinpricks for now. As they were drying off afterward Glenn placed another patch under Jaden’s shoulder blade. He also noticed how Jaden’s previously boney frame had softened just a tad. 

The days continued to pass in a similar manner, Glenn and Jaden spending every moment intertwined as Glenn slowly but surely molded Jaden. He was changing day by day from the definition of a twink to something else. Brown stubble sprouted sparsely across his chin and lip, his chest had begun to push out into soft pecs adorned with their own fuzz. His previously shaved armpits had stubble pushing out, with new hairs joining each day. His similarly shaved pubes were returning with a vengeance, growing in quicker and spreading further than they ever had before. Fat was clinging to his thin frame, he was filling out. 

As Jaden’s body hair started coming in, Glenn would spend more and more time rubbing his hands through it. It was an electric feeling for Jaden, he’d never known it could feel that being hairy. And he was slowly craving it more and more. Glenn continued putting testosterone patches on him as well as a number of other products he’d tried with other guys before. He wanted this cub to be perfect. Jaden’s vacation had long passed but he was oblivious, forgetting more and more each day about his previous life as he dedicated his new one to Glenn. Every day he rubbed against Glenn’s weathered, hairy body and desired it all for himself. He loved the attention, being spoiled and cared for. He didn’t even notice that every meal was huge to ensure he packed on the pounds quickly. 

Days turned to weeks, as Jadens body continued to mold to Glenn’s form. Glenn decided it was time for more progress, and introduced Jaden to his home gym. He slowly introduced a routine before pushing Jaden harder than he’d ever exercised in his life. Glenn took pride in having some strength under his gut, and he wanted his cub to have some solid muscle too. That’s when the testosterone patches turned to injections. Stronger and more effective, Glenn was pushing his cubs transformation into full gear. 

The thin wisps of hair that dotted his chest thickened and multiplied, with larger pecs pushing out as well. The chest hair spread out from his nipples and up towards his neck, and even out towards his shoulders, connecting with the pit hair that had really started to sprout. What had once been a smooth shaven pit was now erupting into a forest. The hairs darkened, grew coarse and wiry, and really began to hold his sweat in. Between that and the workouts Jaden was starting to produce his own sweaty musk at a rapid rate. His beard also grew denser and darker, peach fuzz flooded with testosterone until it became real fur, pushing out of his face. Every day the hairs grew longer, darker, and Glenn was there to feel it all, stroking his cub’s growing beard as it came in.

Each day for Jaden began to follow a pattern; he ate plenty, worked out for hours, and was intimate with Glenn for the rest of it. He would do daily testosterone injections and used Glenn’s hair growth wash. He had grown to love what was happening to him, with continuous positive reinforcement from Glenn, who would comment on his progress. He would point out during sex how much larger his cock and balls had gotten, immediately giving Jaden an erection. It was true though, what had once been a thin six inch cock was now pushing past eight and as thick as a beer can, with balls the size of lemons dangling below. 

His pubes had hit the same growth spurt. What had once been a small shaven patch had erupted into a verdant jungle of hair. Over the weeks they had pushed out slowly, growing darker and curlier, tangling together as more and more hairs pushed through the skin and sprouted out. The bush spread out from the base of his cock, coating his entire groin and reaching up to his stomach and out onto his thighs. His massive balls received their own dense fur coat; the wiry hairs so thick you could barely see through the forest. Hairs had even started climbing up his shaft, giving it an almost animalistic look. Glenn loved this, edging Jaden for hours every day playing with his thick pubes and enormous balls. The hairs blended seamlessly up to the rug on his chest, coating his continually growing belly in more and more hair. 

Jaden had put on so much size that his clothes no longer fit. Glenn of course supplied him with everything he could want, though he rarely wore more than just underwear. He loved the way a tank top looked while working out, his gut pressed tight against the fabric while still showing off his hairy chest and shoulders. His forearms grew thick with muscle as fur coated them as well. His thick thighs met the same fate, with hair sprouting all the way down to his feet. His beard thickened further and spread higher up his cheeks, leaving him with a dense covering that tangled with Glenn’s own when they kissed. His body had doubled in size, with those workouts giving him a solid muscular frame. Glenn made sure that was still softened by plenty of chub though, stuffing his cub at every meal. 

Fall changed to winter, and Jaden was nearing perfection as Glenn’s cub. They were inseparable, spending every day together as Glenn pushed the cub to be the best he could be, perfected for his own enjoyment. Jaden was enamored with his daddy bear, aware of the changes he’d undergone but not worried about his past self. As snow began to fall outside, his new mass and fur coat kept him warm even when outside, since he rarely cared to put on a coat. It was even better for snuggling by the fire with a full fledged bear, one who promised to only make Jaden more and more like himself. Jaden was now a true cub, in love with his daddy bear and looking forward to a life of growing. 

[21280]

warnings for age gap, no pronouns used. sfw. toshinori's insecurities are explored a bit.

there’s something about the older pro heroes having a controversially young partner that makes them feel young again.

when it comes to toshinori yagi, he feels like a 20 year old breezing through life. scratch that, you make him feel like a dumb teenager. he stumbles over his own feet, mixes up his words, and he constantly sweats at the thought of being around you. it feels like he’s suddenly trapped inside a romcom, where he’s head over heels over his new workmate.

the day you moved into the teacher dorms was the day you were introduced to him. the great all might. the symbol of peace, and also the hero whose posters are stuck decorating the walls of your childhood room.

when you began your work as a teacher at ua, he was the first to ask you out for lunch in his office. and who are you to deny, when the muscly, steaming hot man of your dreams is leaning against his office’s doorframe, the famous, million dollar smile plastered on his face. with a small bento box in hand.

a part of him feels like he has to care for you. it’s a small gesture, one he would’ve liked to have at his early twenties. he’s just doing what anyone would do, right? there’s obviously not a part of him that is intrigued by you. no, not one bit.

and to say you’re interested in uncovering what’s behind all might’s strong front is an understatement. in your eyes, it’s clear that he’s struggling, and you’re more than willing to become the one he can rely on. though, it takes time. your patience is about to be tested well beyond its limits. so, you start off slow.

yagi might think of himself as self centered, but there has to be something going on. that's what he thinks, at least.

you fix his tie when it’s slowly slipping, and straighten the collars of his shirts. you twirl the two beautiful blond strands of hair decorating his face, and always have your hand grazing his when walking with him around campus. his desk is next to yours in the teacher’s lounge, and you always offer him your post its and stickers for him to use when grading. he’s grown so comfortable, in fact, that he takes them without asking. there’s a comfortable silence, except when you’re softly humming whatever 80s song pops in your head. he thinks he’ll faint because you enjoy the same music he did back in the day.

you’re just being you. you’ve done the same with mic, and eraser too. he has to be too full of himself for even considering the fact that you feel something for him. which brings the question, does he feel something for you? if he doesn't, then why is he spending time analyzing his every interaction with you? your expressions, actions and reactions are on loop as he tries to figure out what he feels.

is it even okay? he’s well into his fifties, and you’re still a long way from there. his morality begins to chew at him, because you’re a young spirit, and he’s already seeing himself in a grave. it’s harsh, but yagi's mind goes to the extreme. he doesn’t want to take away your youth.

but hasn’t he been selfless his whole life? it should be time for him to think for himself. he’s come to recognize that you may be sending signals, because there’s something so adoring about the way you look at him—he’s certain there’s a spark. and it's then when he realizes he's fallen. very hard.

and there’s no way for him to be straightforward about it. would it be abuse of power if the all might went and confessed everything he felt towards his younger, new-in-the-field pro hero and coworker? would you be pressured into reciprocating because of who he is?

he’s assuring himself that if you were to be interested, you’d be interested for what he once was. he was the symbol for everything: peace, hope, sex—you name it, he's been it for decades. he's sure that you're chasing the idea of him, and not what he has become.

the best way to push someone away is to show what makes you ugly, right? the next thing you know, you're calling him by his surname because he asks you to, and when it's two in the morning and both of you can't sleep...

you see him outside the dorms. sitting down, lanky arms wrapped around his legs. you knew the teaching faculty was a bit secretive with him around you at first, and this was why. when he asks if you can't sleep and you nod, he looks at you with the most melancholic expression, daring to ask a single question.

he gestures to his torso. “you want a bedtime story, kid?”

toshinori yagi talks. he talks a lot. he’s telling you of the gruesome fight five years ago, of his declining health, and his fears for the future. he talks so much, in fact that he’s asking you if you can keep a secret, and talks about how his search for a successor had come to an end when he came to ua. it’s during this moment that you realize there’s more to your attraction to him than your brain let on.

and he realizes something too. he feels comfortable with you, and you remind him of home. but what’s home to toshinori yagi? he doesn’t have a clear answer, but he knows you resemble it. you’re easy to be around, and as he would come to find later on, you’re easy to love.

yet he pushes every happy thought away, his mind clouded with doubt. you scoot closer to him, and his hand unconsciously reaches for yours. as soon as he realizes it, though, he's pulling his hand away and muttering an apology. and you insist, because you don't mind if it's him who does it. and his mind wanders.

"i really like you, yagi."

he's been broken out of his trance. he stares at you in disbelief, "you like me?"

you nod. "are you sure? you probably like the old me, like everyone else. it's just in your head, kid—"

"god fucking damn it i'm in love with you, toshinori."

and to toshinori yagi, it's hard to believe. his mouth falls agape because there is no barrier left to protect him now. you've broken every wall with a single sentence. so you continue.

"i love the way your eyes crinkle when you smile, i love how your two hair strands frame your face, i love the way you're always looking out for others, and how you go into your muscly form to cheer people on. i love your patience, and how dedicated you are when you truly love something. more than a great hero, you're a great person. you need me to go on? because i—"

"do you pity me?"

"do i need to pity you? i'm being genuine, yagi. kinda sucks to get brushed off like that, y'know?"

he stops for a moment.

"...i like you too. like—a lot. it's just hard. to process, i mean."

you look at him enamored. toshinori finally takes the first step and intertwines his fingers with yours. and for the first time in the whole night, he smiles. so wide.

"let's do this step by step, yeah? now let's get some sleep, old man. we have a class to teach tomorrow."

[dqllgarden]

request!!!

ben is tryjng to reform and get a job on a conference call meeting and the reader decides that would be the perfect time to mess with him so they start to toy with him but he has to not react but you know?

million dollar man

ben harveeves x reader

hehe i’m writing this at my office job so this is very fun thank you to my dear friend for this idea !!

tags: smut, oral sex (m receiving) slight choking

—

Ben sat in front of his laptop staring at himself before joining his call. He tightened his tie and fixed up his hair to make sure he looked perfect. He couldn’t leave any bad impressions during this interview, he wanting to turn his life around and get a real job. He had you to worry about now, he couldn’t just keep up his bullshit crypto scheme and risk going back to jail. You were sitting on the couch next to his desk, muting the TV so he could focus and watching him.

“You’re gonna do great babe, they’ll love you!” You reassured him as he clicked on to join the meeting.

“Hargreeves?”

“Benjamin, you can call me Ben. Nice to meet you sir.” He tried to resist looking over at you sitting down on the couch but he couldn’t help himself. He focused back on the call answering the questions the interviewer was asking. All of the boring stuff like job history, education, his very obvious resume gap…

You walked over to his desk staying out of sight of the camera and kneeled down next to him, smiling up with a shit eating grin on your face. Even though he refused to look down at you, he knew what you were about to do. You crawled under the desk and slowly inched your hand up his pants as you watched him subtly move his hand to cover his smile.

“And what is your desired salary Mr. Hargreeves?” You palmed his clothed dick and pressed down until his lower half was squirming.

“I-I’m sorry could you repeat that?” Ben’s hand was now fully covering his mouth to hide his smile. The interviewer repeated the question and Ben answered with a smile as you pulled out his cock.

What a tease you were.

He was doing this for you, and here you were messing with his shot at turning his life around. Was he about to risk it for a blowjob? …How could he say no?

You kissed his tip before putting his whole dick in your mouth, hearing him stumble over his words and try not to close his eyes.

“Are you okay, Ben?” The interviewer asked, showing obvious concern for his seemingly painful expression. If only he knew.

“Yes s-sir I’m okay. I apologize.” His hand travelled down to tangle in your hair and lifted your face off of his dick. He quickly looked down to see you smiling at him before wiping your lips and going back onto him. Your hands braced yourself on his thighs so you could work at a quicker pace, occasionally making soft noises that he’d feel the vibration of.. which always led to a small slap to your face and a not-so-subtle whine on the meeting.

You could tell he was getting close by the way he grabbed your hair and held you down. He spoke somehow with no errors as he came down your throat, you unable to breathe and him smiling and nodding along with everything the interviewer was saying. He let out a soft grunt as he let go of you so you could catch your breath. Just as you were wiping your mouth you heard Ben say, “I look forward to hearing from you,” and clicked off his computer.

“I’m going to get you back for this you little slut.”

[gucciwins]

Can you please write one where harry and reader, who is apart of the love band, being together and they get married without the media and the fans finding out. So when he is introducing the band he introduces her as mrs. Styles and everyone freaks out?

a/n: hiii friends! it's been a while but I am here to share another story. originally this was supposed to be something short and sweet but here is 9k of a new story I hope you enjoy 💜💜💜

+

Harry had fallen in love with her from the moment he saw her though he can’t say the same for Y/N. He knew it was foolish to call it love when all he knew was her name. He fell in love with how she got lost on stage playing each song. It was something he wanted to never forget. When Jeff told Harry he was going to meet Y/N, he froze and almost decided to leave, but he knew he had to see her and hear her voice because if he didn’t, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

The reason Harry was here tonight at the Roxy was because he was forming his band. He was in the middle of writing an album, and Jeff thought she would be the perfect addition. Harry didn’t know then how meeting Y/N would change his life. Harry loved telling this story to anyone who asked how they first met. It’s one he’s said during the production of his first album endless times and during interviews. 

He walked up to Y/N, smiling, but it dropped when she turned around, and his eyes caught the grin she was giving him. Instead, he dropped her gaze to rest on her collarbones, where a delicate pearl necklace rested. Harry knew he was admiring her necklace, but to everyone else, it looked like he was admiring her chest. Harry only realized when Jeff nudged him. Y/N didn’t say a word, only told Harry it was great to meet him and looked forward to hearing his music. 

“There is no music yet,” he told her honestly. 

“What is there?” She asks, looking at him curiously. 

“Heart and soul,” he confesses. 

“Well, Harry. I look forward to joining you in the studio if that’s alright.”

Harry quickly nods his head. “Tomorrow if you’d like.” 

Y/N shares a look with Jeff, who only shrugs, “if that’s what you’d like.” She’s called away, and Harry knows he will be counting down the minutes until he sees her tomorrow. She leans close to him, and Harry relishes her sweet cherry smell. “Next time you want to stare at my boobs, maybe don’t make it so obvious.” 

Harry pulls away, shocked, at a loss for words, unable to defend himself. 

“See you, Harry.” She sends him a smile that makes him feel warm, and he tries his best to commit it to memory. 

Jeff claps his shoulders, unable to contain his laughter, “man, you’re down bad.”

“I’m in love,” he breathes out. 

“You’re insane. That’s what you are. No way Y/N will ever date you,” Jeff laughs, but Harry is determined. 

Harry shakes his head, “I’ll be sure to remember that at our wedding, where you will not be invited.” 

Safe to say, Harry had to work hard for her love, but he never regretted it. Not one single moment because it led him to be loved by her. 

+

After that studio session, Harry had no shame in asking Y/N to join his team as a writer and guitarist. She told him she’d think about it, and with the fear that her answer would be no, Harry got on his knees and begged her to say yes. She couldn’t even hold in her laugh. “Jeff thought you’d do something like this, but I assured him you’d be professional.” 

Harry laughs awkwardly on his knees, looking up at her. “Is that a yes?” 

Y/N shakes her head at Harry’s antics. “Yes, Styles. I’ll join this team.” Harry gets up and hugs her tightly. “With one request,” she voices. 

“Anything. Absolutely anything.” Harry promised. He would give her the moon or a million dollars if she wanted. 

“Sarah Jones. She has to be brought on as your drummer.” Y/N sighs then, “I don’t know if she’d say yes, but you’d be a fool not to ask.” 

And like that, Harry had three members in his band. 

Mitch would be hired a week later. 

From there, the four of them became the best of friends. While Harry was enraptured around Y/N, trying his best to spend time with her, he missed seeing the sparks fly around Sarah and Mitch. Harry was busy when they arrived from Jamaica, having no time for the band, which broke his heart. He loved seeing them and getting dinner with them but promoting a new album was no joke. 

His new friend Mitch was living in his old flat. Mitch quickly got on with Harry’s friends, but soon enough, even they did not see him. It was then he found out how Mitch was always getting dinner with Sarah, and Y/N would join occasionally. Harry knew he was more than welcome, but with the single releasing soon and tour rehearsal starting, he knew he’d seen her more than enough. 

They had been rehearsing for a few days when Y/N walked into the studio in tears. Harry quickly rushed over to her, leaving Jeff to speak to himself. He looked her over and found her unharmed, but he still took her in his arms, assuring her she was okay. Harry knew it was bad because she didn’t even push him away. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he kept repeating. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was more for him or her. 

Y/N pushed him away after a few minutes. Sarah was beside her, slipping her hand around her waist to support her. “My guitar was stolen,” she mutters. “I-I-I went for coffee in the shop down the street, and when I returned, my window was smashed. They only took the guitar, nothing else,” Y/N cries.

Harry feels his heartbreak for Y/N. During a restless night in Jamaica, she shared how it was her grandfather’s guitar. He gave her lessons from a young age, and her mother hated it because she always had a new cut or callous. It was a big part of her childhood, and when Y/N shared she wanted to pursue music as a career, her grandfather was the first to support her. He gifted her the guitar knowing she would produce magic with it, and he wasn’t wrong. Y/N created beautiful melodies for his first album with that guitar, the Fender J Bass American Deluxe. The one her grandfather, played on his wedding day. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he voices, knowing this heartbreak is not something he can heal. Harry immediately sends a message to all the crew and friends in the area to see if they spot her missing guitar or see someone with her guitar case. Harry tells the band they’ll meet tomorrow instead, and she is quick to disagree, stating she can play, but he promises her it’s okay. “Jeff was telling me about this meeting I have to attend.” 

Jeff nods, frowning at Y/N. The band gathers around Y/N, and they’re quick to have her laughing, promising to take her to lunch. 

“Y/N, your car? Is it okay?” Harry asks, knowing it can’t be safe to drive with broken glass. 

“Huh,” she turns to him, confused. “Oh, uh. I drove it here. The backseat is full of glass, and I didn’t even think of anything I needed to fix.”

Harry waves her off, “I know a guy. He can take it to the mechanic. I’ll make sure to have it dropped off at your flat.” 

“Harry, I couldn’t–” 

He cuts her off. “Please, it’s the least I can do.” Harry knows he shouldn’t feel guilty, but if he hadn’t scheduled a band practice, then her guitar wouldn’t have been in her car and therefore stolen. Sarah assures him she’ll get Y/N home. 

Y/N walks out with the band all crowding around her, and Harry knows she’s in safe hands. It doesn’t hurt that he wishes he was the one comforting her, but it’s true he has business to take care of. She just doesn’t know it’s all for her. 

After the hell of the day, she had Y/N went home and cried some more. It was well into the evening when she got a text from Harry that her car would be dropped off soon. She was thankful. He was kind enough to help her. She knows other bosses would be rude and awful, but not in this industry with Harry as her boss. She opens her door to find a young man with a key in one hand and a guitar case in the other. 

“That mine?” She points at it, confused. 

The young fellow shrugs, “you Y/N?” 

She nods silently. 

“Then it’s yours.”

Y/N takes it from him, bidding the man goodnight after checking her car was out front. She hurries inside, curious as to why they also sent a guitar. She opens it up and gasps. In the case is a yellow semi-hollow Epiphone Jack Casad. She told Harry this was a dream guitar she was saving up for during their first studio session. Her name is engraved on the top of the guitar in beautiful handwriting. Y/N is careful to pick it up and is mesmerized by how nice it is. To no surprise, it’s a perfect fit in her hands, as if it was made for he

Y/N

I know there is no replacing the guitar you lost, but I was having this one made for you as a thank you for creating this album with me. I couldn’t have done it without you. Hope we can continue to create music together, and if not, because you’re too talented to stick around with someone like me, I hope you take this gift as an appreciation for my love for you. 

Love, H 

Harry was thinking about her because she knows a guitar takes months to make. Y/N appreciated it more than he knew. Y/N would spend the night playing with the guitar until it felt like hers. When she showed up the next day with the guitar, no one dared to say a word, but between the looks Y/N and Harry shared, they all knew. 

That note would be the first sign that Y/N picked up on that maybe, just maybe, Harry liked her as more than a friend. 

+

The album was well received, and Harry was over the moon. The first shows were nerve-wracking, but having Y/N there calmed him. She gave him pep talks assuring him that the fans would love him, and love him they did. They screamed his songs back to him, and it was easy to get lost in the feeling of being on stage. Before he knew it, they were taking off on a sold-out tour across Europe and North America. 

He had started writing his second album with the help of the team and Y/N. She brought a beautiful melody, and it’s how the start of “Sunflower” kicked off the first song on the track though it would undergo various changes. He loved being in the studio with Y/N because she brought these ideas and perspectives he had never thought of. She was the heart of the album. Touring and writing with Y/N was a dream come true. 

Harry was having the time of his life, but Y/N still paid him no mind. She acted as if there was nothing between them, like there was no spark, which drove him crazy. Harry watched as Mitch and Sarah fell in love, and he wanted that. He craved it with Y/N, with only her. The fact that he couldn’t have her weighed heavy on him, and it got worse when he heard rumors of Y/N going on dates. It broke him because he loved her, and she only saw him as a friend.  They spent every free moment together, so the fact that she didn’t share she was seeing someone hurt because, at the end of the day, he wanted to see her happy. 

He wasn’t proud of what he did next.

There was woman after woman he brought to the show. Harry didn’t know what Y/N thought, but he slowly began to pull away, needing to get lost in someone else; even if it was for an hour, Y/N could consume his thoughts for the other 23 hours. Harry wanted her to want him, to miss him, so he began bailing on lunch with her, not including her in conversations. He thought she didn’t care because she had no response. She treated him the same with a friendly smile and easy conversation. 

Harry didn’t notice the change in her because he was too focused on the new person he was bringing around. If he got his head out of his ass, he would have seen every sad look Y/N shot his way. Or how Sarah urged her to talk to him, but Y/N would walk away. He didn’t see that she was slowly pushing away from not only him but the band. That she thought her days were numbered. 

It wasn’t until she fell sick that Jeff told her that her backup would be able to cover for her for however long she needed. That was all the confirmation she needed to know Harry was replacing her. It broke her, but it was his band, after all. 

Harry was ready to perform, huddled in the circle with the band, when he looked across from him to find unfamiliar eyes. He looked around but saw every member of his band except for her. His heart rate increased, and Harry knew he had lost her. 

Sarah met his gaze and took pity on him, “she’s sick.” 

At that moment, Harry wanted to cancel the show and run to her side, ensuring she was alright, but he couldn’t. He was sure it was the worst show of his life, but he didn’t have time for Jeff or anyone to give him shit for it. When he was off the stage, he drove to their hotel and pounded on her hotel room door. Then suddenly stopped when he realized that wouldn’t help her.

The door creaked open, and there was Y/N with a red nose and sleepy eyes. 

“Hi, petal,” he greets softly, knowing he has to tread carefully. 

She rubbed her eyes as if trying to see if he was actually there. “Harry?” 

“It’s me. Can I come in?” 

Y/N doesn’t respond. She steps back, opening the door wider. She locks it behind him and crawls back into bed. She tells him to stay away because he has a show tomorrow, and he knows she’s right, but he doesn’t care. He sits at the foot of her bed. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “I’ve been better.” 

Harry hates this lingering tension. “Sorry, you felt you couldn’t tell me.” 

She shrugs, “Jeff didn’t want to get you sick.” 

“You’ve never gone through, Jeff before,” he reminds her. 

“That was before,” Y/N muttered.

Harry sulks, letting his shoulders drop in frustration. “What you goin’ on about?” 

“The fact that I’m getting sacked,” she tells him, never one to beat around the bush.

“Sorry,” he can’t believe what she is saying. “I would never.”

She scoffs, clearly not believing him. “Don’t have to lie to me. Very convenient that your friend is my replacement tonight. We clearly know I’m replaceable.” 

“Don’t you dare say that,” his voice firm. He had never seen her as replaceable. His heart breaks thinking about doing a tour without her. “You created this band. I wouldn’t be having the time of my life on stage if you weren’t there next to me. You’re my best friend.” 

Y/N has turned away from him, and as much as he hates it, he respects her enough to let her be. “Some way to show it,” she murmurs. 

Harry hates that her voice is so weak and timid around him. She’s never once taken his shit, but here he is on the verge of losing her.  “I-I,” he sighs. “I’ve fucked up badly.” 

“I get that you’re dating and such, but when you start acting like a dick and treating others like they’re beneath you, that’s when you know you’ve lost against the industry.” He lets her words sink in. “I feel like I’ve lost you.”

A direct hit to the heart.

“You did nothing wrong,” Harry assures her. Y/N motions for him to explain. “I was going through shit and felt selfish going to you for help. You’ve seen me through a lot, and I didn’t want to add more,” he lies. Harry is full of lies, but he can’t tell her he loves her. Not like this. “It was easier to get lost around others that don’t care about me.” 

Y/N turns to look at him. Her tired eyes are locked with his, and he knows she’s trying to read him. That he’s an open book for her, he always has been. She won’t find anything at this moment because he knows he has to bury his love for her deep inside if he wants to keep her. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry for icing you out. I’m sorry for not showing you I care. You’re always my number one since the moment you entered my life. I would never dream of kicking you out of your band. I will understand if you want to leave but know you will always have a spot here with me. 

“Well fuck you first,” she tells him outright. “I’m not going anywhere. I just needed you to get your head out of your ass. Though if you ditch me for a groupie, I’ll cut off your dick.” 

Harry shakes his head, not surprised at all by her words. This is his girl. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll always be my favorite girl.” 

Those words settle deep in Y/N’s heart. When Harry pulled away from her, Y/N swore she felt a crack in her heart because it was sinking in that she was losing him, but she didn’t understand why it hurt so much to be replaced. 

It wasn’t until later that night after she kicked him out of her room to stay away until she felt better she received a basket of her favorite teas and snacks from home. Even a few books she had been eyeing but had not had the time to buy. It’s when Y/N began to realize that she was in love with him. Though she had no idea how he could feel, she did the only thing she could do. She packed those feelings in a box and moved on.

+

Real World Studio was a dream to work at, and it was even better because he had his friends with him. Harry usually could not keep his eyes off Y/N, but tonight he wished she was anywhere but here. After seeing her on a date last night, he was fuming, and he knew it was dumb to ignore her. It was impossible in the studio. Y/N had her guitar in her lap, and it was this beautiful melody someone could get lost in. Except, he wouldn’t take the time to give it a full listen. 

“H, just give it a listen,” she pleads, knowing her song's potential. 

Harry exhales, “nothing special, it doesn’t fit.” 

Y/N feels her anger rise at his dismissal but decides better than to argue with him. She goes to the corner of the room, dropping her guitar, not wanting the memory of Harry for the moment, and picks up Mitch’s spare. She doesn’t notice when Mitch sits next to her. Too lost in her head, cursing Harry out. 

“Y/N,” she looks up at him. “It’s good.” Having heard the song a few times, Mitch now plays it on his guitar, and Y/N can’t help the smile that takes over her face. Mitch’s talent is undeniable. 

Harry perks up, calling out Mitch’s name to play that song again. “Come on, Mitch, again.” 

Mitch grimaces, “H, it’s—”

“Again,” Harry requests.

Mitch does as he asks but only gets a few notes in when Y/N stomps over to him. She pushes him hard, causing him to stumble. The entire room falls silent. Harry feigns confusion, not knowing what he did wrong.

“You’re an arrogant son of a bitch,” she spits angrily. Y/N walks out of the studio with her head held, and Harry deflates, knowing he went too far. 

“Man, what’s up with you? That’s—you have never treated any of us like that,” Sammy tells him, confused. 

Harry throws his notebook across the room in frustration, “Y/N has a fucking boyfriend and hasn’t told me. Saw her having dinner last night.” 

Mitch scoffs, “so that gives you permission to be a dick.” 

Sammy laughs, Harry whips his head to look at him and is about to tell him to shut up when Sammy drops a bomb on him. “I went to dinner with her last night.” Harry feels his anger bubble. “I have this friend that wants to work with her.”

Harry backs down, shoulders slumping, “I’m a dick,” he agrees. 

“Think you should go find her,” 

“And say what?” He looks at them for answers. 

“Sorry, is a good start,” Tyler offers. 

Mitch shakes his head, “he can never admit he’s sorry or that he’s the jealous type.” 

Harry walks out knowing they aren’t any help but knows he does have to apologize. Y/N doesn’t deserve how he treated her. The good thing Y/N didn’t go far; she’s sitting on the hood of her car staring at the night sky. 

“Y/N,” he calls out to not startle her. 

“Thought you’d come out sooner,” she sasses. 

He exhales, “The boys were chewing me out.” 

“Hmm…” 

Harry stands before her, and regret is written all over his face. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I was an asshole for my own stupid reasons.” 

“Okay,” she mutters.

He takes a step closer, his hands resting on her thighs. “I’m just a jealous son of a bitch and took it out on you. I’m sorry, you’re my favorite person, and that’s no excuse for treating you this way.” 

She smirked, hearing him repeat her earlier words she screamed in the heat of her anger. “I put up with a lot of your crap.” 

“And I’m grateful,” he promises her. 

“Maybe too much,” she teases. 

Harry knows she’s right. “Then don’t anymore.” 

“Fine.” 

“Fine,” he repeats. 

“Leave then,” she waves him off, and something inside him snaps. Her words don’t hold malice, and he’s not leaving without her. They both know that. 

He steps between her legs, not giving her any room to escape him. Y/N looks at him with wide eyes, uncertain of his next move. Harry pushes a few strands of her hair back. His eyes fall down to her lips and then move back up. Before he can convince himself otherwise, Harry leans in, pressing his lips against Y/N’s. He feels her tense up, but she melts into him within the next few seconds. He leads the kiss in a steady rhythm allowing himself to get to know what she likes. It feels like coming home, and he wonders how he went so long without tasting her. He knows one will never be enough; he wants more. Harry wants all her kisses. 

Y/N pulls away breathless, one look at her face, and Harry knows she’s panicking. It’s settling in quick, but Harry has always been able to calm her, a special trick he’s learned for years of knowing her. His take will be slightly different tonight.

“Y/N I l–” Y/N stops him. 

“Please,” she pleads. Begging him not to say it. Harry sighs, taking a step back.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he promises. 

Harry walks her back to the hotel for the night with the promise of breakfast together. He hopes breakfast happens, but part of him knows it won’t happen. The following day he was informed she had checked out. All that was left was a note saying she was sorry and that she would call him soon. That same night he was on a flight to Japan. 

After all, there’s an album to finish. 

+

Two weeks in Japan weren’t enough to heal his heartbreak, but it was the perfect place to meet friends, try good food, and write new songs. He had written five new ones, and though he knew some might not make it to the album now, maybe they would for the next one. 

His birthday had come along, and he spent it alone reading in a cafe. Harry got endless texts from his family wishing him a happy day, but there was one person he hoped would call. Except that she didn’t. Everyone told him to move on, but he wanted to grieve this love because Y/N wasn’t just anybody to him. She was the one. He’s willing to fight for her because he knows what it’s like to live without her and hates it. Harry misses her, but he’s also hurt. 

It was early morning when there was a loud knock on his door. He stumbled out of bed in no rush to open his door. After a surprise party last night, he allowed himself to have one too many shots and now is paying the price for it. Y/N always reminded him to have some water and a Tylenol before bed on nights they went drinking.

Harry swung his door open, expecting to see Tom or Tyler but standing in front of him was Y/N. A timid smile was on her face, a large duffel hanging off her shoulder and a gift bag in her hand. 

“Hi, Harry,” she broke the silence after a few seconds (minutes, he couldn’t be sure.) “I-I’m sorry to show up announced. Uh–Gems convinced me it would be a good idea.” 

He has no idea why he’s here, and he can’t even ask her why she’s here because it seems he has lost the ability to speak. He never imagined her coming to Japan for him.

“I’m sorry for leaving. I’m sorry for stopping you from saying something you probably have held in for a long time.” She pauses, looking around her, nervous someone could overhear her. That’s when Harry realizes they’re standing at his doorway.

Wordlessly he moves aside to let her in. Harry locks the door behind her as she drops her bag and presents by the door. Y/N takes her time slipping off her shoes. He can spot her hands shaking but doesn’t dare comment on it. 

“Harry,” she says his name with so much love it gives him a glimmer of hope. “I love you,” she shouts. 

Harry was not prepared for her confession. He wasn’t prepared for her. “And I think you love me?” She questions. 

Harry doesn’t answer. 

Y/N looks around the room nervously. This is not how she pictured the moment on the flight here. Sure, she wasn’t expecting the warmest greeting, but she also didn’t expect silence. Y/N was not sure how to go from here. Before she can begin to think about how bad of an idea this is, Harry takes a step forward; she doesn’t dare move away. He stops until there is no space between them. 

There are two things he could tell her: one would make her the happiest person alive, and the other has the possibility of breaking her. Except, there’s a third option she wasn’t thinking about because Harry was never good with his words. He always thought actions speak louder than words, so he leaned in and kissed her. This kiss was soft and full of love, nothing like their first kiss. Harry was gentle with her, like if he was rougher, she’d break or disappear. Y/N lets herself fall into Harry as he explores her mouth, their mouths moving in perfect unison until he breaks away, giving her a chance to catch her breath. Even then, he doesn’t move far away; he kisses every inch of her face until Y/N breaks into a fit of laughter due to the brush of his stubble on her skin, something he was letting grow during his time here. 

“I love you,” Harry tells her. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, but it doesn’t feel like the first time, not when he’s loved her for years. “I have loved you from the very first day.” 

Y/N slaps his shoulder playfully, “shut up, Harry.” She doesn’t believe him. Why would she? Y/N was a stranger, but the first time he saw her, Harry felt like he had arrived home. He was united with someone who had been missing from him all his life. 

“Will never shut up,” Harry promises. “Not when I get to tell you I love you every day, every hour, every minute.” 

“I’m sorry for the wait,” she holds his face in her hands, taking in his beautiful green eyes staring at her with so much love that she feels she might explode.

“You will always be worth the wait. Always, Y/N.”

+

December 13th had finally arrived. 

“Are you really doing this?” Harry asks nervously on the chair next to her. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I told you I would.” 

“Tattoos are forever,” he reminds her. 

Mateo, her tattoo artist, places the stencil on her ribs as Harry checks in for the tenth time to see if she really wants to be tattooed. “The cherries on my ass are a good reminder I know what I’m doing.”

Harry sinks back in his chair, defeated. “It’s just this is permanent. These are my lyrics going into your skin forever.” 

“Oi, give me some credit, would you? Worked on these songs with you. This one is special. I want it with me forever,” Y/N vows.

Today, his second album Fine Line was released for the world to hear. Every time he released music, he gave a bit of himself away from Lights up to Cherry; these were his stories on love, identity, and heartbreak.  Harry knows he didn’t do it alone, but his fans don’t care for the process; they want the stories and meanings of each song. He won’t give them that, not now, not ever. Y/N, his guitar player and now also his girlfriend, was getting a tattoo in honor of the second album they have written together being released. 

“I thought you’d get a sunflower tattooed or even a watermelon,” he smirks at the last suggestion. 

Y/N scoffs, “you dirty-minded lover.” 

“You love it,” he tells her.

She does. She really does. “Doesn’t matter. I love you. I want to know that no matter what, we’ll be alright. I would go through hell and back for you, so what better way than to get those words that mean so much to me.” 

Harry knows there’s no chance she’s leaving without the tattoo, so he relents letting Mateo begin. “I love you.” And that’s enough for now. It seems he will have to get a new tattoo for her seeing as she’d have his handwriting etched in her skin forever. 

He was going crazy and set to go on stage in twenty minutes, yet no one could find Y/N. Harry had called her again and again, yet no answer. He knew she hadn’t left the venue, but somehow everyone on staff could not find her. It wasn’t until he found Y/N in a small green room sitting with his special guest of the night, Stevie Nicks. They were lost in conversation and didn’t even hear him come in. 

“Y/N,” he breathed out, relieved. He shoots a text to Jeff that he found her. 

Y/N grins up at him, and simple as that, all his worry evaporates. “Hi, pretty.” 

To no surprise, Harry’s face heats up at the compliment. “Poppet went crazy searching for you.”

Stevie stands up, “oh, that’s my fault. I just had to steal her away. It’s been some time since we’ve been able to catch up. Nice to know you took my advice.” 

“Actually, Stevie–” Y/N begins, but Harry interrupts her. 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We’ve got to get Y/N ready to stage soon.” Harry pushes her towards the door. 

Y/N makes a show of rolling her eyes and sighing dramatically. “Bye, Stevie, always an honor.” 

Harry promises Stevie to see her soon, all while Y/N mutters how she can’t believe he embarrassed her in front of Stevie Nicks. He knows she’s joking but never makes anything easy for him. 

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hmm…”

“I love you,” and like magic, she melts into him, allowing him to take her towards his dressing room as he grabs her in-ears and prepares her to head out on stage. 

“Love you, Harry. Proud of you. It’s your big day.” She’s been telling him all week, from listening parties to the Spotify event to last night at 9pm when the album dropped on the West Coast to this very moment. 

“Our, our special day,” he reminds her.

Y/N waves him off, “your album. I’m just the guitar player.”

Harry won’t have that. He approaches Y/N, gently lifting her face to look at him. She’s staring at him with those glimmering eyes full of love. “You’re the muse of this album, but you’re also the co-writer. You play a killer solo in She that Mitch is begging for you to let him play. This album is ours, but it is also entirely yours. I am entirely yours.” 

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. “Ours,” she repeats. 

It ends up being a perfect night. A show they’ll go on to share with friends, family, and future generations for years to come. 

+

Gearing up for tour after a successful album had everyone buzzing, except everything came to a halt because of a pandemic affecting the entire world. Everyone was taking the needed precautions to keep the safety of others in mind. Harry and Y/N decided to stay with Mitch and Sarah because it was better to be with others during this challenging time.

As awful as everything was in the world, Harry was grateful for the time to flourish his relationship with Y/N. 

It gave them a chance to fall more in love with each other. He learned all her childhood stories, and she learned that he was an early riser and liked his coffee dark. They used this time to write an album full of love, longing, and heartbreak. It was their love story in the strangest of ways. He knew the album might not be well received, but he loved it. Most importantly, Y/N loved it, and that’s all that mattered. 

They stayed in California with friends for nearly a year until it was safe to fly home. It was then that they knew they would have to split a way to stay with family. Harry was not ready to let her go, not when he had her for all this time. Instead, he followed along to where she called home. Her baby sister was overjoyed to have Y/N home. Lila got to show Y/N all the knitting supplies she had gotten. Even all the plushies she made Y/N because they reminded Lila of her. (The bunny was his favorite, he got to keep it because he asked nicely.) Harry would never forget meeting Lila for the first time, seven years old, and worshiping the ground Y/N walked on. He understood the feeling very well. Y/N had brought her along for a rehearsal and, by the end of the day, had a meltdown because Harry mentioned them leaving for months. Lila begged Y/N not to go, to quit saying that she’d be able to take care of her if she stayed. Harry saw Y/N’s heartbreak and was tempted to step in, but he knew it wasn’t his place. 

“I hate you,” the young girl whispered when Y/N rushed off to get tissues. His heart broke knowing he was the reason she was hurting so much. “Fire her, fire my sister,” she pleaded.

Y/N returned with sympathy in her eyes, and Harry knew nothing he could say would make her feel better. “Poppet, you know those are harsh words. We don’t say them unless we mean them.”

“I do. I mean it,” Lila sniffled.

Y/N shook her head, wiping her younger sister’s tears away. “No, you don’t. You know how I know?” Lila shook her head. “Because you’ve got the biggest heart in the entire world. I know there is no way you can hold any darkness in there.” 

Lila wraps her arms around Y/N’s neck, and Harry knows he should leave and give them space, but he’s in awe at how well Y/N is validating her sister’s feelings. There’s no telling her to stop crying, only trying to make her understand. 

“I’m leaving, poppet. It’s my dream,” Y/N whispered. “I told you stories about being on stage that it’s my second favorite thing to do.” 

“First is painting with me?” Lila questions.

Y/N laughs, “you know it.” 

“Okay,” Lila hides her face in Y/N’s neck. “I love you.” 

Y/N kissed her sister’s cheek. “I love you too.” They squeeze each other tight, relishing in being together. “Now I think you owe someone an apology.” 

Lila sighed but did as Y/N requested. She walked towards Harry with Y/N standing behind her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Styles. You have to promise to care for her. She loves tea in the morning with lemon poppy muffins.” Lila shares making Harry and Y/N laugh. He keeps a mental note to make sure it’s always available for her during tours and meetings.

Harry kneels down to be at Lila’s level, knowing it will make them at an even level. “I promise to look after her. If you ever need her home, all you have to do is call, and I’ll have her on the first flight back to you.” 

Lila's eyes widen in surprise, “you can do that?” 

“I’m the boss,” he whispers. 

Y/N rolls her eyes at him, but mouths thank you. 

Harry kept true to his word, there was only one time when Lila called, and that’s all Y/N needed to say for him to assure her that it was okay to go. He went as far as buying her a first-class plane ticket. Lila fell, broke her arm, and needed her sister home. She was gone for five days, the longest days of his life, but when she returned, Y/N gave him the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. It’s something he will never forget. 

Now at twelve years old, Lila “tolerated” Harry. Y/N told him Lila was joking, but a part of him knew it was true he had taken her favorite person away. Harry knew he’d be heartbroken having Y/N leave him and hated that he made Lila experience that time and time again. 

“You break her heart, Harry, and I break you,” she threatened with her fist in the air.

“Woah, there, Rambo. No need to defend my honor,” Y/N giggled. “Just because you’re doing kickboxing classes doesn’t mean you need to go punching anyone.” 

“I will if he makes you cry,” Lila tells her while keeping her eyes on Harry.

He found this amazing because Harry was the younger sibling. He knew what it was like wanting to defend his older sister, not that she ever let him. He knew Gemma didn’t need protecting. “If anyone will do any crying, it’s Harry,” Y/N tells her sister. Y/N winks at him before turning her attention back to Lila. “He cries at The Lion King.”

“He does?” Lila says in disbelief. 

Harry scoffs playfully, “that was a secret.” 

Lila steps forward and taps his hand twice in what he assumes is her way of showing sympathy. “There, there. I understand. Scar is the worst villain. Let’s watch it now.” 

She pulls him away as Y/N mouths for him to remember to cry. Harry knew Y/N wanted her favorite people to get along, and if he had to cry during Mufasa’s death to get on a young girl’s good side, then so be it. Harry knows he would do anything for Y/N.

After a few months with Y/N’s family, they traveled to his family. When his mum saw him, she burst into tears and did not let him go for over ten minutes. Y/N got reacquainted with the cats then it was her turn for a long cuddle. His mother was in good hands, but returning home always made him realize how much he has missed. 

“Gems has gotten into a puzzle,” Anne shares as she serves them.

Harry laughs, “not surprised.” 

“H got really good at poker,” Y/N chimes in.” 

“And you miss paint by number,” he teases. 

Anne smiled fondly, seeing them tease each other as she took in the love clearly displayed on his face. “I can’t believe you’ve filmed movies.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes, “oh, Anne, he’s such a drama queen. Oh, that’s not what I ordered. It was a green smoothie, not pink,” Y/N mimics his accent awfully, making Anne burst out laughing. 

“Mum, you’re supposed to be on my side.” 

Anne shrugs, “she’s always been my favorite.” 

Y/N sticks her tongue at him, happy to return to conversing with Anne. Harry knew his mum was right; she had always been his favorite too.

+

With filming complete and the world a bit safer. It was time to get back on the road. Harry had a completed album that he was not ready to share yet. He wanted to enjoy singing songs from Fine Line before adding more to his setlist. Prepping for this tour, there were many new changes. For one, he hired Pauli Lovegood as his musical director, and the band had never sounded better. 

Harry was not surprised to see how well Pauli and Y/N got on. They were two people who instantly clicked when first meeting. Harry had many conversations with Pauli about the band and the chemistry and trust he liked to have on stage. Pauli stated that Y/N was the heart of the band and didn’t even realize it. Harry knew every time he got on stage because she kept him calm and safe each night. Sure, everyone raved about Sarah calling it Sarah’s band, and he didn’t doubt it for a second, but there was a special energy Y/N brought that no one was able to replicate. 

“Y/N goes out on stage every night like it might be her last,” Pauli shared after a rehearsal. They just didn’t realize Y/N was behind him listening.

“Is that a bad thing?” Y/N asks.

Pauli shakes their head. “Not at all. It makes your performance special.” He points back to the stage. “Because that was sound check. You played as if the crowd was already here.”

Y/N ducks her head, flustered, not realizing that Pauli was complimenting her. 

“Does that mean he won't ever fire me?” Y/N laughs, knowing it’s a dumb question.

Harry swings his hand over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “I’d be an idiot to let you go. You know the only reason you’ll leave this job is if you decide that.” 

His words are true. Y/N has had many opportunities and offers to join another band or become a songwriter working with different artists, but it’s not what she wants.

During the tour, Y/N and Harry celebrate two years of dating. It’s a significant milestone for both of them because they had always had a slight fear of commitment, but together forever doesn’t seem long enough. It’s a cold day in November for Los Angeles, but Y/N doesn’t seem to mind since she dragged Harry to Malibu beach with her. 

They held hands as they walked down the shore, seagulls flying high and the beach vacant. No one is brave enough to visit the ocean during this cold season. Y/N had told him that water calms her; it reminds her there is so much more to life, and though she might never have the chance to learn about it, the world keeps turning.

“We’re almost going home,” Harry comments.

Home is London, in her small flat, while Harry goes to his large mansion. There are small details they have to work through, seeing as during this entire tour, they have never slept apart, even when Harry manages to push her buttons. 

“I’m excited to see Lila,” Y/N tells Harry. She talked to her sister as much as possible, but time zones made it difficult. “She’s grown two more inches, mum said.” 

Harry kisses her temple, there is so much they sacrifice for the life they live, but he wouldn’t change it for the world because it led him to Y/N. 

“Soon, you’ll see her soon,” he promises. Little does she know that in a few days, time in New York, Y/N will be hugging her sister, and Harry will happily share her because nothing makes him happier than seeing her happy. “I love you, Y/N.” 

Y/N nudges his shoulder playfully, “alright, you sap. I love you too. Come on, I'm getting hungry.” 

Harry stops walking. She doesn't notice until he has let go of her hand. She looks back at him confused but finds him kneeling on one knee, a small velvet box in his hand. Y/N doesn’t give him a chance to open it when she’s jumping on him, knocking him back into the sand. She’s crying against his chest, whispering yes over and over again. 

He laughs, “I haven’t even asked, love.”

She sniffles, “what are you waiting for?” 

Harry sits up, but Y/N doesn’t move from her place on his lap, sandy ring box back in his hand. He knows her answer, but his nerves are back, making his hands shake. Y/N notices and grabs his hands, pulling them to her chest. “Y/N, meeting you in 2015, I knew you were special. From our first conversation, I knew I could fall in love with you, and fall I did. It seems I’m still falling even now. You’re the reason the sun rises every morning and why the moon shines bright at night. You’re the reason why I wake up with a smile every day. You make the hard times bearable and the good times memorable. Y/N Y/LN, will you do me the biggest honor and marry me?” 

Y/N has endless tears running down her face, but her smile is bright. “Yes, Harry. I will marry you. Forever with you is all I want.” 

Harry leans in and kisses his fiancé. 

His fiancé.

Y/N is his fiancé. 

Anthony and a few friends gather somewhere in the distance, taking photos and videos for them. Y/N lets herself get lost in the feeling of his lips against hers. It’s slow and passionate. They are pouring every ounce of love into each other. This is the start of forever. 

“We’re getting married,” she laughs against his lips. 

“We are. Today, tomorrow, in a month, a year. Whenever you want, I will marry you,” Harry promises her. He hopes it’s sooner rather than later. 

“Let’s go home. I want to celebrate.” 

Their family could wait on the news. Tonight was all theirs. 

+

On April 29th, 2022, Harry married the love of his life in a private villa in Italy with their closest friends and family. It was the perfect day, the sun shining bright, and the Amalfi ocean gave them a wonderful breeze. 

“Today’s the day,” he whispered as Y/N sat in his lap out on the balcony of their room. Everyone told them it was bad luck to see each other before the wedding, but Y/N didn’t believe in superstitions, and Harry couldn’t bring himself to say goodnight to her after their rehearsal dinner. 

Y/N sighs, leaning back into him. “Feels like I’ve been waiting for you all my life.” 

Harry laughs, “I think I did all the waiting.” From the start, he always thought she’d never see him as anything more, but he is hours away from making her his wife. 

“Mhm…you’re right. Sorry for the wait.” 

Harry kisses her exposed shoulder. “I’d wait forever for you, my heart.” 

Y/N turns, taking in his expressions. Glimmering eyes and a shining smile, he was about to become her husband. “Let’s go get married, Mr. Styles.” 

“After you, Mrs. Styles.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Styles, it was music to his ears. 

After getting married with Sarah as their officiant, and Lila as their flower girl, they had a beautiful reception. There were speeches from Jeff quoting that Harry knew he would marry Y/N from the minute he set eyes on her to Y/N’s mum, Roslyn entrusting Harry to make her little girl happy for the rest of their life. Even Lila got up to the microphone making Harry promise to share Y/N with her still because she was her’s first. Harry assured the young girl he'd do anything Lila asked of him if it made Y/N happy. It was the most beautiful day, one he would never forget. 

They went on a month-long honeymoon and returned blissfully happy, ready to perform to thousands of people each night. 

The tour began in Glasgow. A sold-out stadium all for him. Harry was ready to share the stage with his wife and best friends. He was prepared to go out and have the time of his life with his fans, but he could not stop crying. Y/N tried her best to comfort him and was doing well, but she was buzzing, wanting to take it all in. He had done this many years ago with four other boys, his brothers. Harry was okay never doing anything at that level again, but here he was about to play his first stadium of many in Europe. 

“Y/N does not want to leave the stage,” Luis rushes in, exhausted, knowing it’s a bit of a walk from the dressing room to the stage. 

Harry laughs, shaking his head. She told him she loved the stage and didn’t want to be elsewhere. He didn’t really believe her, but Y/N kept true to her words. 

“Let’s go get her.” 

It turns out Harry had to carry her out. He threw her over his shoulder as she screamed to let her stay. They knew it wasn’t possible with fans about to be let in and the opener set to perform in a few hours. Harry was happy to share these moments with her. 

They were preparing for their third sold-out night in Wembley, and Harry was happy because he and Y/N had many friends and family coming out to support them. Harry knows that through the years, the audience has come to love his band, also known as the “Love Band,” while Mitch and Sarah were crowd favorites, and Pauli’s dance move always had the fans screaming it was Y/N who managed to steal everyone’s hearts. She didn’t have to try hard. Y/N had that charm about her, from smiling at fans who locked eyes with her to signs made for her to pose for a fan's camera and especially when she handed out guitar picks at the end of the night. Y/N loved walking down the side to reach the middle, and Harry got to see how each interaction she had with a fan only made her shine brighter. 

Today was different; Y/N and Harry sang together during soundcheck. Lila was there and begged for Y/N to sing, then two sisters with similar pouts stared at him, begging him to say yes. There was no telling them no, and Harry sang Sweet Creature with his wife to a young girl who could not stop smiling. Harry was thankful to have Anthony here capturing everything because he knew he wanted to remember this for years to come. 

“I’m pretty sure fans heard us,” Y/N tells him as she plays with her ears.

Harry shrugs, “they’ve never heard you sing before.” 

“Heyy,” she frowns. “Be nice to your wife.” 

He smirks. He will never get tired of hearing that. “My dear wife, I apologize for hurting your feelings. Will you forgive me?”

She taps her lips twice, “kiss?” 

He leans in, happy to comply with her wishes. She hums against his lips. Harry is tempted to take it farther but knows there is no time for that now.

“Love you, Y/N. Thank you for sharing the stage with me,” he whispers, feeling overwhelmed. 

Y/N grins, “thanks for paying me the big bucks to be here,” she teases. 

Harry groans, giving her a loving tap on her butt. “You’re a menace.” 

“Yeah, but you love me,” she sing-songs.

“I do. I always will.” 

He doesn’t know where life will take him and Y/N, but he knows it will all be alright as long as they are together. 

+

A year ago, he played at Wembley stadium and was freshly married. Now he has celebrated his first anniversary and was back to play four sold-out nights. Harry’s House is out to the world and has received so much love from fans to the Grammys. He remembers winning album of the year, the most prestigious award of the night, and how tempted, he was to kiss Y/N there because this album is a love letter to each other. The new album gifted him so much, but there will be nothing better to Harry than sharing the stage with Y/N as he sings songs they wrote together. 

“Wembley, the last time I was here wasn’t long ago, but things have changed in my life.” A dramatic pause. “For the better,” he assures the audience. “Thank you for having me back. Now let’s dance.” 

The night moves on with Harry coming to bother Y/N more than ever, but she doesn’t mind. She gives it right back before sending him off to bother Mitch, who stays stoic, not letting Harry’s antics bother him. “Now, Wembley, you have been the most amazing crowd tonight.” The screams get louder as they listen to him talk. “But I couldn’t have done this alone.”

Harry introduces the band, going through everyone, purposely skipping Y/N. The band looked around, confused, but Y/N did not take her eyes off Harry, who was stepping closer to her. “Now you all know and love her, give it up for Y/N Styles!” Harry kneels down on a knee gesturing to Y/N. 

Y/N smirks as the crowd falls silent, taking in the confession Harry dropped on them. The cameras pan over to her, and she gives a wave with her right hand, her left stays resting on her guitar where she’s sure the fans can see the engagement ring and wedding ring resting on her fourth finger, no longer on a chain around her neck but on display for everyone to see. Harry talked to her about the plan earlier in the day and decided to wear it to show it off.

After a moment, the fans seemed to have processed his words and began to scream and cheer. It’s louder and overwhelming, but Y/N takes it in stride as Harry laughs, looking out at the crowd. Harry brings his microphone up to speak, but the screams get even louder. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief, unable to understand if it’s excitement or shock.

“Sorry,” Harry giggles into the microphone. “I know her as Y/N Styles. Give it up for Y/N Y/LN. But please address her as Y/N Styles. The paperwork was endless,” he jokes to the audience of 90,000. 

Sarah gives Y/N a crazed look, but Y/N shrugs. It was bound to come out, but she was glad they had the power to choose how and when. No better place than on stage doing what they both love. 

“Alright, alright,” Harry begins trying to settle the cheers, but they are not stopping. It’s been going on for minutes, and Y/N’s just taking it all in, loving the support they are receiving. “Thought you came here for me,” he tries. 

Y/N laughs into her microphone, making Harry look at her with a fake pout. “Oh, enjoy this, Y/N. You’re fired.” 

She rolls her eyes, knowing he’s joking. The entire band knows he wouldn’t dream of doing this every night without her.

“Do you want a song?” Harry asks his crazed fans. 

“Together?” Y/N asks into the microphone. The fans have no idea how to react anymore. This show will be going down in history; that’s all Y/N knows.

She steps close to Harry, who welcomes her in a hug, careful with her guitar.

“Which one, love?” Harry inquires, even though he already knows the song she will pick.

Y/N flashes him a pearled smile, “love of my life.” 

Harry looks out at the audience and then turns back to Y/N. He takes her ring hand and kisses her wedding band. “Seems only fitting.” 

+

liked by mitchrowland, harrystyles, and 233,804 others

pillowpersonpp she’s a rockstar and a wife 

view all 641 comments

yourinstagram I LOVE YOU! Thank you for marrying us 

pillowpersonpp its the least i could do since you're the reason i met my husband 

harryfan1 pause…i did not know this

harryfan2 i would marry her too 

mitchrowland the best guitarist!

harryfan3 I love her friendship with y/n

liked by yelyahwilliams, harrystyles and 4,534,266 others

yourinstagram officially the better styles 

view all 34,554 comments

annetwist a wonderful addition to the family

gemmastyles you know what…you’re absolutely right. 

_basselin oh my friend! Lovely photos 💗

fan1 wedding photos dropping! pray for me

fan2 the most beautiful couple congrats 

fan3 rockstar marries rockstar

harryfan I really thought he was never going to marry 😭

liked by anthonypham, harrystyles, and 322,456 others

lloyddddddddddddddddd the (not so) newley weds 🤍

view all 344 comments 

annetwist I have these framed at home 

anthonypham had the absolute joy of capturing our friends wedding with you

yourinstagram forever grateful! h and i love you boys

yourinstagram 🫶

harrystyles thank you for capturing our special day 

jefezoff they really spent the entire day in their own bubble 

fan1 STOPPPPPP he shot the wedding! Oh i'm so jealous

liked by niallhoran, shaniatwain, and 9,672,655 others

harrystyles every moment on stage is special when i get to share it with you, my heart

view all 43,667 comments

glenne_azoff the prettiest girl!

yourinstgram i love you! thanks for falling in love with me back in 2015, baby

harrystyles thank you for joining my band in 2015

paulithepsm y/n the heart of the band 

jefezoff I'll take credit for introducing you to y/n by you naming your first born after me

harrystyles fuck off

liked by fan1, fan2, and 42,333 others

lovebandupdates HARRY AND Y/N SINGING LOML AT WEMBLEY AFTER ANNOUNCING THEIR MARRIAGE

view all 6532 comments

fan1 all i can do is cry 

fan2 it really is the love band *cries*

fan3 how long do we think he’s been married 

fan4 I was there tonight 😭😭😭 harry is so in love

fan1 spill babes spill

fan4 okay so they sing right and it's the most perfect duet. y/n has a perfect voice that fits harry's perfectly. the song finishes and harry holds her in an embrace for a long time. they come back out and harry has a new ring on his left hand but he basically spends the last of the show kissing her cheek and dancing with her. harry is so in and y/n looks at him with so much love in her eyes. a perfect match

fan3 why you got to say all that. 🥺😭 I am never recovering from this

[incogrio]

christmas, don't be late

SYNOPSIS: in which keeping christmas presents a secret is especially hard for yeonjun

pairing: yeonjun x gn!reader word count: 1.1k+ warnings: none, maybe slightly annoying reader, probably ooc yeonjun

AUTHORS NOTE: this fic was actually really fun and easy to write! lately i've been getting kinda annoyed w yeonjun fics because everyone writes him as a cool, macho guy, but he is also super silly!! he's a silly guy!!! so i wanted to show the silly guy some love. when i am writing this, my jack frost fic just went up, so i hope you guys like that fic :)) does anyone actually read these authors notes btw? LMAO, i might do a fic w an enha member bc i'm more into enha than txt, soooo maybe??? idk!! okay thats it, im yapping, love u!

as millions of people knew all around the world, yeonjun was great at many things. he was great at dancing, singing, being kind, hardworking, and empathetic. 

one thing he was never good it, however, was lying. while he didn’t necessarily find himself wishing he could deceive others well on a day to day basis; the closer it got to christmas, he wished he could. 

the first hurdle of the holidays was figuring what exactly you wanted. new clothes? a new watch? jewelry? they all seemed mediocre at best, and yeonjun knew he deserved significantly better than mediocre. 

then, as though sent from the gods above, you suddenly gained an interest in painting. at first, you simply mentioned liking painting videos on youtube, then, he’d catch you drawing little sketches of your environment. the final straw was when you bought yourself a set of 50 tiny paint tubes for less than five dollars. yeonjun was supportive, of course, and your paintings were beautiful, but he knew you deserved the most expensive paint in the world, with the highest quality canvas money could buy. more more than your printer paper, and dollar tree supplies. that’s when he finally jumped over the first hurdle of the holidays. 

now, the second hurdle, was keeping it a secret. at first, it was sort of easy for him. he would simply close his tabs when you came near, and made sure to avoid the topic of getting you art supplies whenever it arose. 

“junnie, what are you up to?” you asked, walking up behind him and his computer. the speed in which you watched him close all of his tabs was akin to superhuman.

“ahh, nothing…” he muttered, before turning around in his office chair and throwing you a charming, lopsided grin. he’d decided the best way to get your mind off his secretiveness, was to be seductive. so, he grinned, he looked you up and down, he bit his lip. 

safe to say, you weren’t too focused on his tabs that night. 

but, there’s only so much sex a man can have before his man gets suspicious. and, with the packages beginning to come in, hiding them from you was becoming harder and harder. 

the first package to arrive was your easel. he’d asked countless people and read countless reviews to make sure he got you the sturdiest, most functional, aesthetically pleasing easel. 

he was lucky when the package arrived and you were at work, but unlucky when he realized it came completely in pieces, and he would rather die than have you waiting over his shoulder as he struggled to build it on christmas day.

“i’ll just…. build it now! it shouldn’t be too hard.” oh yeonjun. what a fool you are.

you came home to him with his head in his hands, an instruction manual on the floor and seemingly random wooden parts strewn throughout the living room. 

“jun, what…” he cut you off, immediately jumping up and covering your eyes.

“yah!” he shouted, “don’t look! don’t!”

“i didn’t! i didn’t see!”

“be honest now.”

“i am!”

“promise?”

“pinky promise.”

“then go away!”

the next time he allowed you into the living room, a large blanket was hanging over the easel, blocking you from seeing the shape of it. you walked out, eyeing the gift suspiciously.

“keep moving mister! nothing to see here!” he exclaimed, gesturing you through the house like an airplane marshal.

when the second package arrived, a large pack of multiple canvases, it was significantly easier to hide. he simply wrapped the box in wrapping paper, and shoved it under the tree.

“baby, what’s in the box?” you asked during dinner, feigning innocence.

“hm? what… box?” yeonjun responded, picking at his food nervously. 

“you know what box.”

“haha! i don’t!! let’s have dessert!”

slowly, you knew you were breaking him down, softening him up. you were in bed together, after secretly putting some of his gifts under the tree.

“junnie…” you mutter, putting on a bit of a soft tone. “tell me what’s under the tree… and i’ll tell you what i got you!”

his only response was turning away from you and your charms, shoving a pillow over his head and loudly singing ‘lalalalalala!!’ for five minutes straight. 

finally, when the paint arrived, he felt relieved. the other gifts would be easier to hide, being small jewelry and clothes, so this would be the last of the big gifts he’d have to wrap. 

he felt so relieved, that a few days later, he was casually speaking to you about your gifts without even realizing it. 

“i ran out of paint today right in the middle of a new landscape!” you whined, grabbing a cold water from the fridge.

“ah, well, it’s good that i-,” he paused. his stomach flipped. he stared at the wrapped gift and almost felt it stare back at him. wrapped. gift. it was wrapped for a reason! he can’t go around revealing gifts just a few days before christmas!

“that i… um… saw… a bird…” 

“what?”

“bird.” he blurted out, before covering his mouth and dashing to the bedroom to hide.

so when christmas finally arrived, yeonjun was as happy as a five year old would be. he woke you up at five am, practically bouncing off the bed as he dragged you to the living room. within the next two seconds, all three of your main gifts were shoved into your lap. 

“open!” he said, the balls of his cheeks high as he beamed at you. 

you slowly and carefully peeled the wrapping paper off, partially to make him impatient, and just as you were about to reveal up your gift, “it’s paint! the best paint in the world!” he blurted out, practically shaking at the excitement of no more secrecy. 

“i see! thank you, junnie! i love it. here, you open one of mine ne-“

“no! you go, go go go!”

you chuckled, grabbing the giant, blanket covered one and shoving it off. 

a second before you could process what it was, yeonjun shouted again.

“it’s an easel!” 

you began laughing at his absurdness. “wow yeonjun! thank you so much! this is so thoughtful. should i open this now?”

he beamed, momentarily trying to contain his excitement by biting his lip, and nodded.

you peeled the wrapping off extra slow, watching him get more squirmish and impatient. 

finally, before taking the last bit of wrapping paper off, you paused. you leaned back, looking at your excited boyfriend.

“go on,” you softly commanded.

“it’s a pack of canvases! i did a lot of research, made sure i got the very best…” he rambled, going on about reviews and critics whilst you gazed at him. once you had finished exchanging gifts, yeonjun quite literally collapsed on the couch, letting out a relieved sigh.

“i hate secrets.”

you chuckled. “at least i know you could never cheat.”

there is a taglist! if u want to be on it, put in an ask :3

don’t forget your daily click!!

requests are open!!!! (im begging u for a request fr)

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

Man, I like Daily Wire in concept but Matt Walsh needs to shut the fuck up about video games. The same guy who tried to resurrect the tired old "violent video games are harmful!" crap is now acting like he's the first person to notice that video games are pushing woke nonsense (even though there are about a hundred channels and outlets that have been talking about this for years) but his solution is to, of course, for the right to stop playing video games.

No. Just, no.

This is the same "bury our head in the sand and pretend pop culture doesn't exist" mindset that got us into this situation in the first place. You can't win a war (and there is a culture war going on, no matter how many people on both sides want to pretend otherwise) by retreating from every battlefield. You win by raising awareness of a problem and then offering a real solution.

And it's especially stupid seeing this cultural retreat mindset from someone working for DW because DW actually knows exactly how to fight this battle. They created their own media company to fight against woke Hollywood. Are all their movies and shows good? No, not at all. But they still did the right thing. They put their money where their mouth is, and created an alternative.

A much better example is Angel Studios, which is probably the only Christian movie studio I've ever seen that puts out top quality content with great acting, writing, and production values. They're raking in money and getting their content onto mainstream streaming services as well as theaters. In other words, they're taking their message to the people who need it the most. The ones who aren't already in the echo chamber. Unlike Daily Wire, which only offers its content on its own website through a subscription service to its own audience, and never advertises anywhere.

Another successful example outside of movies is Eric July's Rippaverse. He's been killing it with his comics, with every single one of his campaigns raking in over a million dollars, every cent of which is reinvested back into his business, helping it grow, creating more content, and expanding his already impressive roster of writers and artists. Mainstream writers and artists, by the way. Like Chuck Dixon, the guy who co-created Bane and wrote the seminal Tim Drake Robin comics, among many other credits, and Mike Baron, who wrote some of the best early Punisher comics. Eric had a following before he started the Rippaverse. He runs a successful YouTube channel and he's a regular contributor to The Blaze. He could have walled himself off with his fanbase, wrote comics about ancaps saving the world from the evils of government, and made some money while pandering to the people who already agreed with him. Instead, he went big. He invested his own money, runs his own distribution center, owns his own business with zero outside investors, hires the best talent he can, and offers a product that focuses on story and characters over messaging. His work isn't even "anti-woke". It's just not woke.

And that's what we need in video games. We need alternatives. We need to roll up our sleeves and wade into the deep waters and actually contribute our ideas and our talents. Offer an alternative. Hire people who know what they're doing, who care about quality content first and social engineering never. There is a huge untapped audience who would pay hand over fist for good video games free from microtransactions and woke nonsense.

But retreating is not an option. It's not brave or moral to hide in our echo chambers and scoff at anything fun. Entertainment is necessary. And maybe more importantly, it's not going anywhere. We will never live in a world where people go to work and spend time with their families at home and do nothing else. We need to engage with the world as it is. Not wait around for whatever our idea of a perfect world is to magically form so we can finally interact with it. You can't change society if you keep pretending large swaths of it don't exist.

[mushroompollution]

Canon Divergence pt 2

part 1

Leo's blood runs cold as he stares up at the man before him. The man whose private office he had infiltrated. Elliot's father. The Great Duke Bernard Nightray.

Behind him stand two of the largest men that Leo has ever seen, each bearing Pandora's insignia on the lapel of their stark, black suit. However, the Duke waves a hand to dismiss them both.

"Watch the door. If my son tries to intervene, you have my permission to restrain him. And if anything should happen to me in here, you are to kill him immediately and blame this servant."

Leo's starry eyes go wide. But somehow, he swallows down his gut reaction to jump right over the large desk between them.

Though their expressions seem unchanging, the two guards share a hesitant glance.

"That is an order."

"he's your son--!!!" Leo protests, only to be silenced by the Duke's raised hand.

"Do not make me repeat myself," The Duke fixes a cold, steady gaze on the young man behind his desk. "Glen Baskerville."

Feeling safe alone with Elliot, Leo had left his glasses behind when he'd gone to snoop. Now, he finds himself unable escape the authorative stare of the Duke Nightray.

He feels so small. So helpless.

So confused.

He doesn't feel like the fabled head of the Baskervilles. He doesn't feel like the cruel mastermind behind the Tragedy of Sablier.

He feels like the little child taken away to an orphanage in a ghost town.

He feels like a wild animal on trial for a crime it can't possibly comprehend.

And he feels those ghosts surrounding him, their judging eyes cast down on him like spotlights.

Slowly, sheepishly, Leo nods.

The guards turn to stand outside the main office, leaving the two alone inside the secret room.

"i don't know what you're talking about," Leo's voice sounds tiny. "i don't know anything about the Baskervilles. i'm just--"

"And here I was told you were clever," Duke Nightray interrupts. "You see the golden lights of Abyss that no one else does. There's no question that you're one of them." The Duke's face changes briefly to a scowl of disgust as he spits that word like it's something rancid.

"I thought by now those voices in your head would have directed you to your purpose. Three Sealing Stones down, yet you still seemed content playing the good little valet, unaware of the great power you hold. But now that you know the truth, we can finally work together."

"i don't want power. i. just want to save Elliot, and those kids--" Leo protests.

"That's the problem with commoners like you. Your world is too small to see the bigger picture before you, and you let your feelings get in the way of success," the Duke chides.

"they're going to die if someone doesn't do something!" Leo gasps. He can feel his rage simmering inside him, but he bites back his volume. He cannot wake Elliot.

"It's unfortunate, but the reality is that there's nothing anyone can do."

"that's a lie," Leo protests. "you could have saved his life if you killed the Chain right away, right?!"

"That Chain is special."

Exactly what those ghosts had said.

But unlike the spirits, the Duke Nightray elaborates.

"Humpty Dumpty distributes the burden of the Seal across many different Contractors. Every one of those seeds planted before Elliot's would need to be culled first. Do you realize how devastating that would be?! We didn't have Raven back then, our family's position within Pandora relied on the research in that facility. We had invested years, millions of dollars, and the shreds of our reputation on that research. All of that would have gone to waste! And what do you think would have happened to all those other Contractors?"

The Duke pauses as he narrows his eyes on Leo. "How many of those children would you want to kill just to save your precious friend?"

Leo feels something horrible and hot bubbling inside his chest. He's quite familiar with rage. This is something different, something unfamiliar. Something more.

This must be hatred, he thinks.

"Elliot is your son."

"And it wasn't a decision that I made lightly. But life is not without great sacrifice." The Duke's gaze is unwavering. "You have the opportunity to see that their sacrifices are not in vain, though."

Leo grits his teeth. His hands clench into fists in his lap. "what do you want from me?"

"Your cooperation," the Duke Nightray says. "If the legends about you are true, then those Baskervilles will have no choice but to obey your every order. I want you to command them to protect this family. Together, we can restore the Nightray name and pride."

"is that really the only thing you care about?!" Leo shouts, unable to hold back his anger any longer. "what happens if i say no?!"

"Then I shoot you dead, here and now. I tell Pandora that you were Glen Baskerville, and the Headhunter as well. Our family takes the credit for catching you, and our honor and reputation will be restored. It's just a shame that I couldn't stop you from striking again, first."

"your family name is so important that you'd kill your actual family to restore it?" Leo growls in disgust. "how does that make any sense?!!!"

"You and I both know you won't say no under those conditions. And you also know that boy. He's dedicated his life to restoring our family's honor since the day he could speak. If Humpty Dumpty would allow him to hold the thought in his head, he would want it this way."

"no he wouldn't!! Leo shouts. "if you actually knew anything about him, you'd know he hates that self-sacrificing bullshit!!"

"I think I should know my own son," the Duke scoffs. "He's far too immature and emotional to ever hope to lead this family, and he can't even bear a proper heir. Dying to restore our reputation and honor was always the greatest way he could ever hope to bring pride to this--"

The Duke's speech is cut short by a sudden rush of wind.

And then, things seem to move in slow motion.

Leo watches in horror as the Duke's head slides forward, clean off his shoulders.

He watches it fall, frame by frame. It hits the ground, leaving a splatter, and a trail of blood as it rolls across the hardwood floor.

Then, the body of the Great Duke Bernard Nightray, Elliot's father, falls to its knees before slumping lifelessly on down to the floor.

A fearsome, skeletal beast in a tattered red robe hovers over the body. The Chain stares down at Leo with its empty eye sockets and gruesome grin. It sports long, twisted horns and wings of sharp bone that come together like the blades of scissors.

"You don't know the very first thing about Elliot."

From behind the awful monster steps a slender man with long blond hair, his mismatched eyes of red and gold narrowed in disgust.

"You scum," Vincent spits at the corpse at his feet.

Leo covers his mouth with both hands, barely containing a horrified scream. Vincent raises his head, and the ice-cold malice in his eyes seems to melt away as they fix on Leo. "You know, I always had a feeling you were something special," he remarks with a gentle smile that makes Leo's hair stand on end. "Master."

Leo can hardly process everything before him.

The Duke Nightray. Dead.

Dead at Vincent's feet.

Killed by the Headhunter.

Vincent is the Headhunter?

And a Baskerville?

Master....?

He feels so helpless. Confused. Frustrated.

Then, he hears the sound of his own name, called faintly from somewhere far outside the secret room. A familiar voice.

The realization makes him gasp.

"those guards are going to--"

"Those guards have already been dealt with." Though his smile doesn't change, Vincent's voice sends a chill down Leo's spine. "Now, we're going to have to get out of here, but you and I need to have a little bit of a chat."

Leo's focus goes quickly from the door, to Vincent.

To the fearsome, skeletal monster looming over him.

To the headless corpse of the Duke Nightray on the ground at his feet.

To his head...

He can barely hear Vincent speaking over the sound of his own pulse pounding in his ears.

he wouldn't.

not Elliot.

After all, he had just defended him.

right?

Leo hears Elliot's voice again, but it isn't calling his name this time. The raw, horrified scream chills Leo to the core and makes his stomach twist with nausea.

As Vincent turns his head toward the open doorway, that monstrous Chain does the same, its sharp teeth curled in a gruesome grin.

And Leo panics.

He dashes forward without thinking, pulling the teleporter device from his pocket as he throws himself into Vincent's back and hooks an arm around the taller man.

There's a flash of light. Then his phone and teleporter both clatter to the floor as Leo and Vincent disappear from the Narrative.

[total-drama-brainrot]

*looks at u w/ my chocolate orbs* opinions on mikesys

Not sure if you're talking about Mike and his alters, or Mickey from RR, but I'll assume it's the former.

I like Mike! I like the concept of his character - that being a "normal guy" who just so happens to have DID (or, given the show's airing period, I suppose he'd call it Multiple Personality Disorder). I'm... not so much a fan of the execution, but it's somewhat understandable that he's a little unrealistic as DID representation given the social standards of the time. If anything, the fact that he wasn't made into an antagonist is revolutionary! (Until, you know, All-stars ruined it.)

Mike as a character is fun. He's just a guy in a world, and nine times out of ten he's so done with whatever bullshit situation he's found himself in - it indicates that Mike's accustomed to finding himself in less than stellar situation thanks to his alters, which tracks given that most of them are definately predisposed to finding trouble. The number of times he's re-fronted in the show itself just to find himself in an awkward or otherwise distasteful situation thanks to whoever was fronting previously attests to this.

When it comes to my opinions on Mike himself, I found him a little too entrenched in the "everyman" personality to really care much for him. His character flaws are fairly generic and reasonable, which is to be expected from the "normal guy" archetype, yet his character strengths don't really have a chance to shine through as Mike.

The Zoke plotline was sweet, if a little painful to watch, but the main personality draw for the ship was Zoey (ironically enough). His alters are by far the most interesting aspect about him despite each only having a fraction of the screentime Mike himself gets, and Mike's own motivations are fairly unclear.

To clarify; Svetlana's motivated by being the best gymnast in the vicinity and showing off her acrobatic prowess, Manitoba's motivated by being the best conservationist/archeologist around (since he's, in all likelyhood, a culmination of an Indiana Jones fictive and Steve Irwin), Chester's motivated by Old Man Spite. Ect ect. Whereas Mike himself is just find of there? He's in the competition because... well, he had nothing better to do, and the prospect of a million dollars is too good to pass up, I guess.

Outside of his will-they-won't-they with Zoey, he forges a friendship with Cameron (though Mike and Cameron's rapport isn't really expanded on outside of Cameron trying his best to cover for Mike's DID) and, in his final episode, a sort-of rivalry with Scott, but otherwise he's fairly self contained in his system.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, more screen time outside of the Zoke plotline would've saved him.

Now, as far as his alters go, I have a pretty distinctive ranking for them:

Chester - He's relatable. I'm personally a big fan of grouchy old man characters when they're played for comedic effect, and Chester's consistantly funny in his brief appearences.

Svetlana - Do I need to clarify? She's Svetlana. She would be my #1 if I wasn't so biased towards Chester.

Vito - He's a fun character to watch, and technically he didn't do anything wrong despite the show itself trying to paint Vito and Anne Maria's relationship(?) as a bad thing, but he loses point for being Italian (/j).

Manitoba Smith - He's alright. Not as entertaining as the other personalities, and he loses even more points for the blatant sexism.

I haven't watched All-stars so I can't in good faith rank Mal.

... I wish Total Drama was good. Mike and his system could've been great.

[onetimetwotimesthreetimess]

For the prompts Malec as Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce 🫢

Magnus as the one of the most successful and famous pop star ever and Alec as a famous football player who won 2 Super Bowl

As much as Alec loves football, he hates interviews and having to talk to the public. He knows he is lucky enough to live this dream, but he’s not really made for paparazzi and red carpets. He’s meant to stay inside his home and gang up with Jace on Izzy’s cooking.

But alas, life doesn’t always work the way you want and Alec is forced to appear on this interview by PulseCapture Insider. Alec thinks it’s the stupidest name for a channel but so are most of them.

He’s not really here for himself. He’s here for something else—he’s here to set the record straight. Not that he needs to, but because he wants to.

It’s the least he could do.

He’s barely seven minutes into the interview when he’s hit with the question. He’s not surpised because they’ve gone through all variations of the ‘how great was that touchdown’ question.

“So, now that you’re here. We believe it’s a great opportunity to ask you the million dollar question?”

Alec rolls his eyes, internally as he replies. “And what’s that?”

“About your new whirlwind romance with none other than Magnus Bane,” the interviewer comments.

There’s something about the way the interviewer says Magnus’s name that irks Alec. He’s not sure why.

“We’re dating, yeah.”

The interviewer, Sebastian looks a bit surpised, as if he didn’t expect Alec to answer so easily.

Media is so fucking weird. They’ll hound you until you’re forced to tell your truth but they’ll also hound you if you tell your truth easily. It’s insane on every single level and while Alec’s famous, he’s not familiar with the level of scrutiny that actors and singers have to deal with. He’s a sportsperson. There’s limit to that. But celebrities, their lives are on constant watch and Alec hates that.

He’s not sure how Magnus ever deals with it.

“That’s great,” Sebastian breathes.

“Yeah. Magnus is great.”

There’s a moment of silence and Alec guesses that all of Sebastian’s questions revolves around proding Alec. Now he needs a new line of questioning.

He passes a few comments about their relationship before he asks. “So, a lot of people are saying that Magnus Bane is with you for the money. Care to comment on that?”

Out of all the ludicrous things anyone can ask him, Alec believes this one takes the cake. He’s baffled by the judgement in people’s minds.

“If anyone were to be in this for the money, it would be me,” Alec smirks.

Sebastian frowns. “What?”

“I make 18 million dollars a year. Magnus makes around 150. His hair costs more than my entire house,” Alec points out.

“Oh.”

“Anyone with a single brain cell and a working laptop would be able to find out this. I’m guessing you only have one of the two things,” Alec smirks.

The interview ends shortly after that. Alec has a flight to catch after that so the next few hours pass easily. He’s exhausted by the time he reaches his destination.

He enters the building and the watchmen lets him in as Alec is on the list now.

Three minutes later, Alec is inside the loft and he searches for the other man. Alec’s not surprised when he finds Magnus in the balcony.

Magnus knows he’s coming, Alec had informed him earlier.

“Hey.”

His boyfriend turns and even though he knew, even know they’ve been texting the entire time, there’s a beaming smile on his face as he sees Alec.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Alec smiles as he steps forward. Magnus makes space for him on the couch and Alec sits there carefully. This- this, between them is still relatively new so Alec is careful sometimes. Even though whenever he’s with Magnus, he never wants to think again. He never plans or prepares. He just does.

“Hi, baby,” he breathes as he finally connects their lips. Magnus’s smile grows against his face and Alec can feel the heat grow in between them.

“I missed you,” Magnus says quietly, as he brings their forehead together.

“Me too,” Alec replies and pulls Magnus in for another kiss. They take it slow this time, their bodies shifting closer to each other.

“I saw your interview,” Magnus says after a while as he lays against Alec’s chest, playing with his fingers.

Alec hopes he’s not said more than Magnus wanted them to. But they’ve talked about this. There would be no rules. They could both say whatever the fuck they wanted.

“And?”

Magnus turns and there’s a mischievous grin on his face as he replies, “I didn’t realise you’re in it for money, Alexander. I am hurt.”

A loud chuckle escape his lips at the words. “I hate to break it to you but it’s true, baby.”

[yellow-kudzu]

As a server I hate when guests joke about things that pertain to the food, their experience, or anything to do with the restaurant. I know when people are joking, have a great sense for humor, but because of some assholes I have to act like a flipping robot and take everything they say literally.

Case in point, years ago I served a family, did all the right stuff, two-bite checked, said it was great. End of meal, not a speck of food on the plates, capiche? I ask how was everything and the woman said "Oh I hated it!" WHILE LAUGHING!

So I laughed, because the food was gone, and she had many chances to tell me that, so this is obviously a joke, a jest, this woman is straight joshing with me. We are best friends and were each other's maids of honor for 4 weddings (renewed vows, not divorced) that's how close we are in this goddamn moment.

Nope.

She watched me laugh and told me I was being so rude and she wanted a manager.

Now when people say that to me I can't laugh anymore, which is like yay cool whatever lame joke, but I look like an idiot who can't pick up on the oldest joke in the restaurant book, which is not what the general public wants to see in a server.

Someone asks to reserve the whole restaurant on a Saturday night with one day's notice and a smile on their face? Can't laugh. Had this happen one time and they were for real.

Entrees come out in under ten minutes l, record time, and they say "Gosh took you long enough!" Can't laugh, had someone be genuinely frustrated with a 10 minute dish before.

These assholes are doing extremely low level t*rrorism on the average joe-Man, goofy couple, and basic goofballs everywhere. AND ME!!!! I LOOK SILLY NOW! I want to grab my guests by the collar and say "I know you're joking! I know you're trying to connect with another human being and find a spark of joy to light the candle on your white table cloth that sits between us right now! BUT THEY HAVE CURSED ME AND YOU IN TANDEM!!! We are split in twain by the devil himself!!"

Eh I can do without the "You can get me a million dollars joke though" that blows

[judeschoices]

In This Moment

It's been a struggle to write anything Choices-related. Quite honestly, I don't have many books I like. The Deadliest Game though... me likey. Sue me.

I claimed Jun Seong as my husband, waiting every Friday to see this man's face. So I tried to write something about him.

Book: The Deadliest Game

Pairing: Jude Thorn x Jun Seong (Black M!MC)

Rating: Mature

Tag(s): Budding Romance, Mentioned Main Character Death, Suggestive Themes

Summary: Jun was the type of person whose mind is always working. As a bodyguard, he had to be on guard. He had to be vigilant. He knows that all it takes is one second and everything can change. There was no real space in his life to relax and well... have a much of a normal life. At first, he didn't mind. He knew what he was signing up for when he became a bodyguard. And it wasn't like he had his eye on anyone special... until he met his boss's childhood best friend, Jude Thorn.

Jun wasn't the type of man known to relax. Ever since he was a young boy, he always kept busy. From his studies to helping his parents take care of his little sisters, Jun was always doing something that meant productivity. In a way, it meant he stuck to himself most of the time. Not really one for parties or popular social events, Jun found the company of "me, myself, and I" to be enough for him.

He was mainly known as stoic. Kind, polite, but in many ways, a little difficult to read.

It's rare to see the man caught off guard or flustered... something that seemed to happen with increasing frequency ever since meeting Nick's childhood best friend, Jude Thorn. The murder mystery author Nick always fondly spoke of. Nick had a collection of his books in his house, even reading his latest release at least four times before he died. 

Their first meeting was orchestrated by one idiot tech bro and Jun's former employer, Steve Bashir. After catching and bringing the young man into the circle of his arms to prevent him from taking an impromptu dip in Nick's pool, Jun was secretly taken by surprise when those deep brown eyes met his. Nick had last seen his best friend two years prior, right before he hired Jun as his bodyguard. So Jun never met Nick's childhood friend in person before and their monthly Zoom calls were usually done when Jun wasn't around. 

Granted, Jun could've utilized the internet to see what the mystery author looked like... but if Jun was honest, he doesn't think that any online photos would do Jude justice.

Jude was a few inches shorter than Jun's 6'2 height, probably 5'9 to 5'10 if he had to guess. The young man had flawless dark skin, dark low buzzed cut hair, gently chiseled facial features, thick softly arched brows, long dark lashes that framed his deep brown eyes, a straight flat nose, and full soft lips. The author had a build that Jun would've expected from someone who sits at a desk and writes for a living, a bit on the thin side but he still felt the lean muscles through the man's suit.

To make a long assessment of the mysterious writer short... Jun had eyes, and he could clearly see that Jude was a very handsome man. Jun, who was normally attracted to women, found the feeling odd but... not unwelcoming.

And that feeling only grew as he slowly discovered that Jude was more than a pretty face. Jun spent a lot of time around self-entitled, selfish, and mean-spirited millionaires and billionaires. Save a few people, like his boss and his friends (well... some of them). But Jude was a breath of fresh air in the million-dollar mansion. 

Jude grew up with Nick. While his best friend grew up to be a self-made man with wealth that could easily support his great-great-great grandchildren, Jude was still considered "midlist" at best, according to him at least. But that was the thing. 

Jude was humble, he kept Nick humble. 

Whether he knew it or not, Nick was always deeply influenced by the other. He helped Nick remain one of the purer individuals of the upper crest. While Jun preferred to keep things strictly professional, he could admit that he saw Nick as a friend. A friend who cared about him and his well-being, no matter how often he insisted that he was fine. 

He could see that in Jude as well...

After finding Nick's body and finalizing that his death wasn't a suicide but a murder, Jude was the one trying to gain justice for his best friend. While doing his best to catch the killer before they took the lives of the ones Nick cared about (Jun still scratches his head over how he and Steve even became friends quite honestly...), even when they aren't too fond of him or his efforts. 

It's that big heart that Jun admired the most about the mystery author, amongst other things. His cheekiness, patience, witty sarcasm, intellect... 

Jun could feel himself falling for him a little by little. With each private moment with each other, Jun never felt concerned with what was next time or reflecting on the past choices that led them to a certain in their investigation... all he could focus on was Jude.

Even when he, Farah, and Dante stumbled upon Jude standing over Medhani's body, his feelings didn't change. Even when they soon discovered that Nick's time of death was earlier than they originally believed and that Jude himself didn't have an alibi, his feelings didn't change. As Jun sat next to the bone-weary man, he knew that in his gut, in his heart, that Jude wasn't the one behind the murders.

He trusted Jude... and Jude trusted him. He could see it in those dark depths... as well as his quiet desire for him. 

Not Dante.

Not Farah.

Him. 

Jun Seong, the hardass bodyguard who has walls that could rival the Great Wall of China. Jun Seong... who was still a man at the end of the day. A man suddenly weakened by desire at the sight of the author in a tight black tank top and dark red track shorts, which was the author's sleep attire. Jun felt possessed by the simple need to know... 

Just what pleasures, both simple and erotic, could he discover from the man sitting just mere inches away from him? Judging by the look in Jude's eyes, Jun could have it all if he just said the word.

"Jun..." The bodyguard couldn't resist the shiver that made its way down his spine. He secretly loved hearing the author speak. He had a low voice, a sweet smooth timbre that rang pleasantly in his eardrums. He loved how his name sounded from those plush-looking lips.

"Jude...I..." Jun couldn't resist anymore. Not here, where it's just him and Jude in the private, quiet space of his room. Jun leaned in, moving slowly to give the mystery author enough time to pull away. Much to his silent delight, Jude tilted his head to sweetly accept his kiss.

Jun has privately daydreamed about this moment, but reality proved to be so much sweeter. Jude's lips were soft and submissive, accepting everything Jun had to offer and more. He gently took ahold of the smaller man's head, tilting up to deepen the kiss. Those long slender fingers ghosted over his shoulders, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Jun gently bit Jude's bottom lip before pulling away a bit. Jun couldn't help but savor the flushed look on the dark-skinned man's face with greedy eyes.

"I've been wanting to do that for a while now..." Jude slowly blinked as if he was coming back to himself. The author let out a soft chuckle, warming Jun up from the inside out.

"How long," Jude quietly asked. Jun allowed himself to lightly run a finger along Jude's jawline, watching with darkened eyes as those soft lips parted. When he spoke next, his voice came out an octave longer, skirting just on the edge of a growl.

"I think I knew I was hoping for it the night Dante threw that party. But thinking back... since the moment I met you..." Jude's eyes widened in brief surprise before lowering, a coy smile tugging on his mouth.

"Then I think you should kiss me again," he whispered, leaning in again. He gasped when Jun leaned in, gently guiding him on his back as the bodyguard hovered above him. Jun wrapped a muscular arm around his slim waist, pressing him against his naked chest. Jun brushed a faint kiss to his lips, whispering,

"Like this?" Jude bit his lip, his arms finding a comfortable perch around Jun's broad shoulders as his legs parted for Jun to lay on him more comfortably. 

"Yes..." Jun didn't need any more prompting, returning to those soft lips with a quiet sigh. The author relaxed in his arms, accepting his kiss with a soft moan. Jude tightened his hold on Jun's hips with his thighs, silently demanding that Jun come closer. A low groan escaped him, his large hands finding smooth dark thighs, squeezing and caressing them in reverence. He was a fool for thinking he could keep away from such a man. He was a fool for waiting this long to experience this level of intimacy with him. Jude was just so perfect.

Jude playfully nipped Jun's lip, bringing him from his thoughts.

"Jude..." The writer silenced him with another kiss, one of his hands finding their way into his hair while its twin made its way down to his chest to rest over his heart. 

"Just be with me in this moment, Jun," Jude whispered. His lips found the rough stubble of Jun's growing bread of his jaw before teasing a line of teasing kisses along the strong cords of the bodyguard's neck. The shudder that ripped through the muscular body on top of him made the writer grin. A needy groan escaped Jun when he felt those full lips softly suck on his neck. The slow attention was causing blood to rush in between his legs, his slowly awakening arousal twitching against Jude's inner thigh through the soft material of his pajama pants. It was taking everything in his control not to roll his hips against the heat of the warmth of those soft thighs. 

"Good God, Jude," Jun moaned when he felt Jude's teeth leave a teasing bite on the same spot. Jude chuckled, returning to Jun's moaning mouth for another kiss. The kiss immediately turned heated and full lips parted, allowing their tongues to twist and dance between the gap. Jun allowed himself to grow a bit bold, reaching behind the writer to squeeze his ass. Jude let out a moan, arching back into the bodyguard's touch.

"I love seeing you like this," he whispered almost drunkenly against Jun's lips. Jun could only imagine how he looked to the other man. Tousled hair, darkened eyes, kiss-swollen lips, and a flushed complexion. Jun let out a husky chuckle, pecking the other man's lips, lingering for a few moments before slowly pulling away.

"I'm sure. But it's been a long day and tomorrow is gonna be an even longer day. It's best we get some shut-eye." Jude bit his lip, giving a slow nod.

"You're right. I... I could spend the night here if you'd like," Jude offered. Jun raised a brow at the suddenly shy author, before standing over him.

"Jun- whoa!" Jude's question died on his lips when he lifted up by his thighs, his legs coming around Jun's waist. The mystery writer laughed, wrapping his arms around the former Green Beret's neck.

"God, you make that look so easy. And hot," Jude purred, kissing Jun's cheek. The other man chuckled.

"What's the point of being a bodyguard if you can't sweep someone off their feet every once a while," he teased, walking to his pristine made bed. Jude gave a playful grin.

"Fair point... just don't drop me." Jun leaned in, his lips brushing against Jude's ear.

"Wouldn't dream of it." His voice came out a hint of a husky growl, causing the body in his arms to shudder pleasantly. Jun couldn't help but chuckle, setting the smaller man down when they reached his bed. The pair silently slipped under the sheets, Jude leaning into Jun's embrace.

"Are you okay," Jun quietly asked. Jude gave a small shrug, leaning against Jun's naked chest.

"No. But I'm alive," Jude whispered. The arms around him tightened.

"I'll do everything in my power to keep it that way. Get some sleep, Jude. I'm here." The writer let out a content sigh. 

"Thank you, Jun... sweet dreams..." A soft kiss was placed on Jude's neck before Jun felt sleep creep up on him.

'Trust me, I don't think my dreams can top this night, Jude.'

[thetragicallynerdy]

wip wednesday - the die hard fic, continued

(AKA I'm writing Die Hard featuring Jim from OFMD as John McClane, Ed as Al Powell, but neither of them are cops. Also featuring the Badmintons as asshole cops.)

--

Staring up at the smoking building from the hood of his truck, Ed lifts the radio to his mouth and answers. “Yeah, Cowboy, I’m here. You alright?”

There’s a burst of laughter, followed by a hollow cough. “I’m fucking great, man.”

“You sure? That was a big fucking explosion, mate.” Big enough to take out an entire floor. He sure fucking hopes they weren’t near it.

More laughter. “Estoy bien, lo prometo. You remember those plastic explosives I told you about?”

Oh, fuck, they didn’t.

“Seemed like an appropriate time to use them,” Cowboy says, laughter breaking into a hoarse series of coughs. It’s a familiar sound, one he’s heard many times throughout his firefighting career – the sound of someone struggling to breathe because of smoke. Worry spikes. “Is the building on fire?”

A little bit. Not enough to put anyone on the thirtieth floor in danger, though.

“Nah. She’s gonna need a new paint job, though.”

“Eh, needed a facelift anyway.” Their voice goes serious. “Hey, muchacho, did I hit any cops with it?”

Ed shakes his head, makes his voice firm as he tucks his free hand around the hot chocolate thermos Stede sent with him. “Nope. You hit a few floors up. Looks like you took out the floor that the rockets were coming from.”

“Oh, thank fuck.”          

There’s a noise to the side. Ed looks up and sees Nigel and Chauncey Badminton storming towards him, both looking pissed as hell. “Incoming,” he mutters, setting the hot chocolate aside and sliding off the hood of his car.

“Is that them?” Nigel demands, gesturing at Ed’s radio. “Let me speak to them.”

“Hell no –“

But Nigel just swipes the receiver out of his hand, giving Ed the finger as he snarls into it. “You listen here - I don’t know who you think you are, but you just did millions of dollars in property damage. We don’t want, or need, your help. Do you understand me? Stop trying to help. Because of you, all of my officers down here are covered in glass –“

“Glass?” Cowboy cuts in. “Who gives a fuck about glass? Who the fuck is this? Put Ed back on, I’m not fucking talking to you.”

Ed doesn’t think he’s ever seen Nigel turn quite so red before. He’s normally bored, almost lazy in his command – but now he just looks pissed.

“This is Deputy Chief of Police Nigel Badminton,” Nigel says stiffly. “I’m the one in charge of this situation. Ed will no longer be your –“

“Oh, you’re in charge?” Cowboy laughs. “Did you tell that to the assholes in here? Because from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look like you’re in charge of shit.”

Now Chauncey’s turning red, too. Ah, twins. He swipes the receiver from Nigel, sputters into it. “Listen here, you little shit –“

“Jesucristo, what the fuck is it with cops? Each and every one of you is a fucking shithead. Stop blabbering and put Ed back on!”

“When you get out of there, I’m arresting you,” Chauncey hisses. “You’re mine, you hear?”

Cowboy gives the tiredest laugh he’s ever heard in his fucking life. “Man, you think I’m making it out of here alive? Fuck off.”

Before Chauncey or Nigel can make it worse, Ed grabs the receiver, drags it out of his hand. He glares at them both, angrier than he’s been in decades.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he says, voice low. “Go run your little show.”

Nigel points a finger at him. “You find us if they tell you anything, or I’m arresting you too, Teach.”

“I already said I would. Go.”

They leave. It’s a fucking relief.

Ed hoists himself back onto the hood of his car, forces himself to breathe through the anger. “Cowboy? You alright?”

“Sí, sí, I’m fine,” they mutter back. “Real fucking glad I’ve got tons of support down there.”

“Hey. You have me,” he says firmly. “Me, and all the firefighters down here, we love you. We’re on your side. A bunch of the cops who aren’t assholes are rooting for you, too.”

He can’t imagine what it’s like. They’re alone, in a burning building, with half a dozen men or more trying to end their life. They’d called the cops looking for help, but now…

Ed feels like shit for calling in the forces. It was necessary, he knows it was, but if it ends with Cowboy being arrested for just trying to stay alive –

“Alright,” Cowboy says quietly. “Gracias.”

“Hang in there, mate,” Ed says softly, wishing he could fucking go in and help them. “Keep doing what you’re doing, and I’ll be here to help you when it’s all over.”

There’s a long exhale, then another rasping cough. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“Please do. And Cowboy – get yourself out of the fucking smoke, okay? It’ll fuck up your lungs real quick.”

“Sí, don’t worry.” There’s something warmer in their voice, and it’s a fucking relief to hear it. “I’m already on my way.”  

[coronerandundersheriff]

A new chapter of "Afterlife"

Changes have advantages AND disadvantages…

"Greetings and all my love, Dorian. See you then."

David ended the call and grinned over at Cassandra and Chris, who were also smiling.

It was a beautiful, mild Sunday morning and up here in the penthouse it was quiet and comfortable. 

"I hope you don't mind too much, but my cousin is visiting soon and may be staying a few days." Trevelyan opined, taking a sip of orange juice. 

"Always the man speaks in riddles, Chris. I'm telling you, he's a walking mystery... hahahaha" The pretty woman giggled and winked. 

"You do have some relatives around the globe, most of whom we only know by hearsay. Do we get to know the name too?" Cassandra asked, amused. 

David loved to see her laugh. His beloved friend was doing so much better, and the nightly sleeping problem with cuddly bear Chris had also been wonderfully solved, as no one was disturbed by their nightly arrangement in David's bedroom. 

Although he had told his therapist he wanted to ask Cassandra to marry him as soon as possible, David had not yet found the courage. But perhaps now was the time!

Eric Trevelyan was a quiet but active man. He had founded a small company. They helped people to help themselves. Eric was mostly on the road and you didn't really know where his actual residence was, because he was just often everywhere and nowhere. So he had announced on short notice that he would like to stop by while he was passing through. 

David was happy, he had not seen his cousin for ages. If he thought about it correctly... yes, the last time was at his mother's funeral....

His cousin was a little younger than himself, about Cassandra's age, so they would definitely get along great, they had met briefly back then, though the occasion wasn't the nicest. 

Cassandra smelled so good this morning. 

She was a beautiful and lovely person, she was smart, fair, romantic, well-read, a swell mom, a top cop... and of course a woman.

David wondered if he should just "give her a try"? Would she even want to sleep with him? If not, the second question would probably be answered as well... or maybe not... David would marry her anyway, even if he didn't get intimate with her. 

It was hard, so damn hard. They had been close friends for so many years, she had always accepted him for who he was: moody, gay, secretive, drunk... he always remained her buddy David. But still, they had never talked about sex. He'd never asked about Chris' father, and she'd never asked about all the guys he'd slept with. And Dorian? They talked about him often, but their secret love affair was never an issue. David never brought it up again and Cassandra didn't ask.

So, should he ask her to marry him first or to have sex with him? 

David chuckled out of embarrassment and shook his head. 

"A million dollars, which of course I don't have, for your thoughts, Trevelyan. Hehehe..." Grinned Pentaghast. 

David blushed, "Better not, pahaha!"

"Men! You can't with them and you can't without them! Haha...!" 

Cassandra was such a trooper. David loved her more than anything. But would that be enough? Would that be enough for her? Would that be enough for HIM? Sleeping next to her and Chris didn't bother him. But sometimes there was a feeling, a desire... he didn't want to think about it. 

And how might Cassandra feel about it?

"Cass, darling? What is your type of man, anyway? I know I asked you that question eons ago and we found out then, we have the same tastes...I know I know...but...preferences change sometimes. Life shapes you, doesn't it?" David burst out. He didn't know how he felt about bringing up such a topic at breakfast.

Cassandra looked openly into his purple-blue eyes and studied him for quite a while without answering. 

Uh-oh!

Chris squealed happily in his chair and ate his cereal. Cassandra was still gazing silently into Trevelyan's face. 

Suddenly she broke the silence, "Hmm... good question, indeed! Men. Me and men. Tall, short, blonde, brunette, stupid, smart, thin, fat..." Cassandra started to laugh. 

"I'm serious, Cass." David asked meekly. 

"I haven't been in love much in my life. But when I have been, it hasn't worked out every time. That's all I'll say about that."

Trevelyan nodded in agreement but remained silent. He understood that it was as difficult for her to talk about this subject as it was for him. 

So it would remain difficult to ask her to marry him....

▪︎▪︎▪︎

"Super cool to see you again Cassandra. David told me a lot of information about you. I guess I know more than you'd like, a bummer to have a cop for a buddy?! Hahaha, I'm just kidding." 

Eric had shown up after breakfast, or rather, it was just before noon. He had just come from Thailand and had umpteen bags with him, but everything was quickly stowed in the guest room.

David was cooking so he let Cass, Chris and Eric have fun together. With one ear he listened to the conversation.

"I know a few things about you too, don't forget I'm a deputy as well and of course I am a mom - Exhibit A is sitting over there in the corner, playing!" Triumphantly,  Cassandra looked proudly in her son's direction. 

"Kids are wonderful. I haven't managed to settle down enough to procreate. Women don't go for globetrotters. Maybe it's the Trevelyan gene though? Hahaha..." 

Eric laughed heartily, then glanced briefly over at his cousin at the stove.

"I see. And I guess it's true, you Trevelyan's are tough nuts. You're hard to get a hold of. Pretty but nimble as fish in water, but whoever catches you won't let you go again! Hihihihi!" Pentaghast's voice was like velvet, heavy and soft at the same time. 

Had David heard correctly? "...pretty" and "...won't let go"???

Oh well, Cassandra was surely in a good mood and just charming as ever!

"Oh thank you! Nobody has called me pretty for a long time. I can only return that compliment!" 

Eric was such a charmer!

David had to grin. He was so glad that Cassandra and Eric hit it off right away. It was so darn good to have people around. To see smiling, friendly faces. 

David couldn't help but think of Dorian and how they still kept in touch. Dorian had a few days off and had gone to a ski lodge with colleagues and as always, the first or last calls applied to him. David knew their friendship would last for the rest of their lives. What more does a person need?

Had David possibly finally come to terms with it, or was he about to accept that Dorian would never return? 

David had given Dorian a small package as a farewell present, with the request to open it only if he definitely wanted to come back. Dorian apparently had not opened it, or rather, had never felt the urge to return to him. Which answered quite a lot of questions and dashed hopes. It had been ages since they had seen each other, Dorian had been so busy with his PhD and this project. But he had done it, he had his title, a solid secure place where he could thrive and grow, he had decoded the human genome with his team, he had accomplished just about all of life's goals. What did he need now Texas and the old noses from his past? 

Dorian had told David there was a young doctor on the team, a real bright guy, charming and good-looking. Dorian didn't sound enamored, but intrigued when he spoke of this colleague. David always listened silently and revelling when Dorian told.

Suddenly David shook, somehow his chest tightened. 

Blood rushed to his head, rushing in his ears.

Wait a minute wait a minute!!!

What did he really want now?

David wanted to be happy in life, his best years were spent with.... 

David wanted to start a family and he had already proposed to one person, namely....

David wanted to live lustfully again and become sensual, he dreamed almost daily of...

Like a flash of lightning, it hissed behind his eyes.

He dropped the wooden spoon and then everything went black....

(OC Eric Trevelyan by @pookydraws )

[polijakefim]

Travis Fimmel

May 14, 2003 Joseph Brown

It’s about 14,000 miles from Opium Garden nightclub in South Beach where this shot was taken, to the farm outside of Echuca, Australia where Travis Fimmel grew up—a lot of ground to cover for a 22 year old (reportedly much younger) surfer, whose presence in a room seems to ignite a sustained tremolo in the private parts of both hetero and homo alike. But then it’s a relatively quick hop when your image is plastered all around the world as Calvin Klein’s new pony-boy underwear model.

Fimmel’s rap sheet is a success story straight out of Hollywood. He arrived in LA with $60 in his pocket, spent $40 of it on a cab into town and blew the rest in a pub. Weeks later after wandering into LA Models flat broke, he found himself in New York standing in front of Calvin Klein and other company executives in his underwear, winning the battle of the bulge hands-down over numerous other male models.

Fimmel’s relatively slender physique breaks out of the mold set by Calvin Klein’s previous hard-pumped poster-boys like Mark Wahlberg, Antonio Sabato Jr. and Michael Bergin, and evidently the new approach is working quite well. Just two months ago the British Advertising Standards Authority dismissed complaints that the Calvin Klein underwear advertisement hanging on the corner of London’s Tottenham Court Road and Oxford Street was “indecent, sexually suggestive and demeaning” —concepts which don’t seem to register here in South Beach. The poster apparently caused “more congestion than usual” according to the Authority’s Head of Road Safety.

Even though Travis is currently working under a multi-million dollar contract with Calvin Klein, he still drives a 1985 Bronco; answers most interview questions with five words or less, and scoffs at celebrity—both his own and others.

During his time as a fixture in the London party scene, his fling with All Saints singer Nicole Appleton, who is now married to Oasis front-man Liam Gallagher ended because “she was boring,” and he says he never dated film star Meg Ryan, even though they were seen dining together at Robert De Niro’s Nobu restaurant in New York. Who do you believe—Travis or Inside Edition?

He also displays his affection for former video clip love interest Jennifer Lopez using a rather quaint, down-home complement, “She’s got a fat arse but she’s very nice.”

Yeah, we know, Travis—isn’t it great?