#we are in our feelings tonight lads

[1roentgen]

.

[goldenstring6123]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTNXxJ8TM/

THIS IS SO CUTE PLS I CAN SO CLEARLY SEE THE LADS MEN DOING THIS 😭 and the comment section had me dying where is evb finding these MEN 😔🙏

Lnds: Sleepy time!

Warning: No warnings, afab!reader, fem!reader

Authors note: Fluff (not a lot of it) and a bit of domestic stuff.

Sylus:

It had been 30 minutes since you left the bedroom. Sylus was already well on his side of the mattress, reading the news while waiting for you to come back. He thought you were just up and about doing your normal routine of drinking herbal tea and doing skincare, but it was taking you far longer than usual.

He settled the tablet down on the nightstand and walked out of the bedroom. He searched for you in every room he passed by, and when he arrived at the guest bedroom at the end of the hall, there you were, perfectly tucked in under the unused duvet.

You were curled into a ball and too engrossed in the video you were watching; you didn't even notice the black fuzzy threads wrapping around your weird curled-up position. You lifted off from the bed, and when you came to, the view was of Sylus' back as you involuntarily made your way back to his bedroom.

"So you're not going to put me down?" you asked, paying attention to the video again. "Are manners not a thing anymore?"

The brooding man didn't spare you a glance. "I'm not open for discussion. You're supposed to sleep in my bedroom. Our bedroom."

"I just wanted a bed all to myself," you uttered. Here you were, planning what to watch and what to eat for the whole night, and this guy managed to foil it.

"I don't share the same sentiment, sweetie. You have the bed every time I'm overseas on a work trip. It's even infested with your colorful pillows," he opened the door to the bedroom and reeled you in, gesturing to your side of the bed which had vibrant pillows and bed 'pets,' as you like to refer to them.

"You really can't sleep without me, can you, Mr. Big guy? Afraid that someone's under the bed or something?"

"I'm more afraid that you're going to ravage my food pantry when you're not in my line of sight."

"The guest bedroom is nowhere near the pantry and I don't ravage it—I simply take a few snacks," you clarified. "Greg would be sad if the food spoils."

"Either way, you sleep in my bedroom or my couch, nowhere else, sweetie."

"Admit it: You like my company, don't you?" You gave him a cheeky grin.

"Yes, yes," Sylus agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "You make a good meat shield when we get attacked in this bedroom."

"Oh wow. Reduced to a shield." You rolled your eyes in return and slipped under the covers. "That's Onychinus' leader for you."

"Right. Are you done now? I still have an early schedule for tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I'm heading to bed now. You can sleep."

"Good. Now come here." Sylus opened his arms and you found yourself huddled right into it like it was the perfect mold. You shifted a bit and could feel his muscles relax against your back.

"Why did you feel the need to sleep in the guest room tonight?" Sylus asked under his breath.

"I was planning on reading comics all night. Tara recommended a new romance comic which I like, but knowing you, you'd probably take my phone away."

"Then it looks like I will be the bad guy tonight."

"Maybe. Until you fall asleep." You shrugged.

You hear the handcuffs being pulled out.

Shit.

Xavier:

3:02 AM, it says on the clock. You weren't on the bed. It was cold and it was proof that you never went on it, which was odd considering you told sleepy little Xavier that you were going to stay over. Poor little tired hunter was exhausted after a day's work and couldn't help but doze off while watching you do your little night ritual of moisturizing and doing a facemask.

Xavier sat on the side of the bed, letting out a big yawn. He didn't know where you were, but all he knew was that he didn't like being alone. From his palm, a faint whirlpool of light emanated, enough to guide him through his dark abode. His first thought was maybe you were watching in the living room. You weren't there. He then headed to the small bedroom right beside his, a spare one for guests, but it went unused when you both shared the same bed now.

He tried his best to quietly open the door. There he saw a little bump on the mattress and it made his heart squeeze; you were adorable and looked so small. Xavier tiptoed and folded the blanket away from you. He took a deep breath and lifted you up bridal style, pressing you against his chest.

"hm?…Xavier?" you slurred, vision dark and blurry.

"I'm moving you to our bedroom," he kissed the top of your head and continued his journey to the other room.

"You were sleeping," you paused, looking for the word. The drowsiness didn't seem to go away. "didn't want to…disturb you."

Xavier wanted to say something, but he and you both arrived at the side of the bed. He gently laid you down and placed a pillow between your limbs, which you automatically hugged. Xavier crawled to his side of the bed and yanked the cover over the both of you. Though you both weren't exactly touching, the little hunter's heart eased at your presence.

Gladly, he went back to sleep, hoping to maybe see you in his dreams.

Zayne:

Zayne's house was far too quiet when he arrived. It was only 7 o'clock, and by then you'd usually be in the kitchen, peeking your head out with a ladle in hand. There was no "welcome back" nor a simple "hello," but what did he expect? You were mad at him.

It's a shallow fight, really. Zayne decided to put you on alcohol time-out and took your hidden beers that you were so ready to drink after a grueling day at work. Zayne's judgment was far better than yours because when you get drunk beyond mental capacity, you tend to make a mess of the house, and you turn into a rage-filled, feisty lady. Moreover, you'd been chain-drinking for the whole week, and Zayne was getting concerned because you kept having hangovers.

His hands twisted on the knob to the little library of his house, where he would always find you on nights like these. There you were, curled in the lazy boy sofa and turned away from him. You were awake, but you didn't want to look at your lover.

"I'm home," Zayne declared.

"Dinner's in the fridge. Heat it up," you responded and closed your eyes. Zayne's footsteps grew closer and closer to you, and you felt his palm land on your shoulder.

"Your back will hurt if you sleep in that position."

The sofa might look soft and admittedly it's pretty comfortable to sit on for a long period of time, but with the curled-up position you have, it was bound to hurt when you fall asleep.

"I'm perfectly fine," you replied.

"Don't be stubborn." Zayne decided to pick you up. You wanted to thrash and get out of his grasp, but then you would look childish.

"I don't want to be with you tonight."

Zayne kept his lips in a thin line. He's more than aware that you're saying that because you're mad, but still—It hurts to hear it from you.

Gently, Zayne settled you in the middle of the bed. "I'll sleep in the living room. Stay here," he whispered and tucked the blanket over your shoulders. It was dark in the bedroom, so you couldn't exactly see him. You rolled over to face away from your lover and patiently waited for him to leave.

1:34 AM. You couldn't sleep. A can of beer would do you some good, but your tongue wasn't craving the bitterness of it. Instead, your mind looped over to a few hours ago when you said something that you didn't mean. It was harsh now that you think about it.

Now Zayne is keeping his distance from you. The owner of the house is sleeping on the couch.

With two pillows and a blanket in hand, you made your way down the flight of mahogany stairs. The living room was in full view, and Zayne was fast asleep on the couch. You nudged the two ottomans to the space between the coffee table and the main sofa. Then you threw the pillows and spread the blanket wide, letting it flutter down while you made yourself fit on the ottoman chairs.

You left a few spaces between you and Zayne, one that was filled by the cold pillow.

2:46 AM. Zayne stirred awake and found a blanket draped over his body. Beside him was his supposedly angry lover, clutching the hem of his shirt. He stared up into the chandelier above and took the pillow that was bordering between them, used it as his own, and pulled you closer, nudging the blanket over both of you even more.

Rafayel:

He's standing by the doorway, tapping his foot while a plushie was tucked under his armpit. He was frowning, and you could even see it through the dark.

"What?" you asked, shining the phone his way.

"So you're going to leave me alone tonight? Is that how you're going to play?" He was mad-mad, but that's why you were confused.

"Hey, drama king—you were complaining earlier in the day about my bad sleeping habits—I'm giving you the bed now so you can be at ease, but now you're mad at me again. Do you want me to sleep on the floor of your bedroom or something?"

"Duh? Of course not. I'm just complaining because it's true, but I never said you should sleep in the guest room."

"Then are you going to be alright with my sleeping habits?"

"No."

"Then sleep alone."

An audible gasp could be seen on the expression of the Lemurian. He looked so offended with the end of the conversation, but you weren't having it, so you plopped back onto the bed and hid under the covers, hoping that he'd go away.

The moment you peeked back out, you were rapidly crushed under heavy weight, making you sink to the bottom of the bed. Rafayel lay spread out on top of you, keeping you in your position and crushing you underneath him.

"Get off me! You're heavy!" You struggled underneath the blanket, nudging him and kicking him, but he pretended to be a dead body floating in the water. Rafayel kept still; if verbal convincing won't work, then he'll have to make you change your mind.

"Fine! Fine! I'll sleep with you!" you screamed. He rolled to the side, propped his elbows up, and rested his head on his palm. You just wanted to rub that triumphant grin off his face. He happily scooted underneath the blankets and hogged your side of the bed, wrapping his hand around you and shutting his eyes.

You didn't want to make a big deal of it further and decided to head to bed as well.

You were stirred awake by a strain in your neck. The lids of your eyes lifted at the electrifying pain that traveled to your head. You squinted, barely able to process the faint blue outside the window. Your body was spread out again, and nearby you could see Rafayel making use of the awkward space he was left with.

Guilt washed over your tired body.

Without much thought left, you held onto two pillows and let your body slip down to the carpeted floor. You hugged the pillow and placed another one under your head, liking the furry texture that brushed the side of your bare arms and legs. You closed your eyes again and let the tiredness wash over you.

It was cold for a summer morning. A large yawn escaped your lips and you patiently waited for your eyes to focus, and when they did, your eyes widened immediately at the beautiful sight of a sleeping Lemurian. Rafayel, too, was now on the floor, using his own arm as a pillow.

You tapped on his shoulder, and he just pulled you down back to the floor. "Five more minutes," he groaned, burying his face in your collar. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and you didn't have to go to work. You could indulge him in the meantime.

Author's footnotes: lol the tiktok was very cute, something that you'd see in a rom-com enemies to lovers sort of romance story. It would be a pretty redundant snippet if every situation is the same for the love interest so I took the liberty of changing things a bit.

Layout by me, using Canva Premium | Do not repost

[danidoesathing]

kill kill violence kill

[wroetojaw]

SIDEMEN BRUTALLY RANK MORE YOUTUBERS | H. Lewis

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

summary: cozy day in with your boyfriend and watching the sidemen

tags: fluff, w2s x reader

warnings: slight cursing (not really)

a/n: instead of doing my literature essay I completed this story hope you guys enjoy!! more stories and stories about other youtubers are coming soon! ⋆｡˚

-

“Welcome to MoreSidemen, where the Sidemen, talk badly, about other youtubers” Simon says as the others cheer jokingly.

You giggle quietly while watching the video, leaning back into your boyfriend’s arms. Harry said you were one of the people they ranked and asked if you wanted to watch it with him. And, of course, you agreed because who wouldn’t. You watch Harry as he gets up from the couch to go get a snack.

"You look good in this video by the way," you complemented him as your eyes wandered back to the screen. "I reckon I look good in every video, don't know what you mean..." He remarked. You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him when he sat back down next to you only to be grabed by the waist and pulled closer to him.

"They are our friends, so don't take any of these seriously," Simon continues with a disclaimer, knowing how the internet would react if he didn't. "Maybe not for much longer if I get ranked last for any of the nice ones." You say, half-accusingly glaring at Harry. He puts on a guilty look and shrugs.

"Which Youtuber would you most want backing you up in a fight, we have seven people." The said seven people then popped up at the bottom of the screen. It was you, Deji, Theo Baker, Callux, Danny Aarons, Randolph, and Calfreezy. “Oh shit, it��s my girlfriend oh no,” Harry says, putting his hands in his face. The guys laugh at him and Vik says, “someone’s sleeping in the dog house tonight.” "Bro you better watch what you say."

"Who'd you want most", "Well Deji has got to be number one", "Yea Deji number one," they say in agreement. "Hey! What about me," you say, turning around to pretend to punch Harry. He ducks out of the way and says, "Come on Y/N, he's literally a professional boxer". "Yeah well...I can throw a punch too." You grumble, turning back around to face the television.

"...Theo's up there because he's pretty w..." You hear your boyfriend say in the video. "I could take him down," you mutter. "I know you could okay Y/N," he says as he kisses the top of your head. The guys continue discussing their rankings, not once mentioning you at all. "Okay now hold on a sec, because I personally think Y/N could pack a punch you know, I feel like she's got the temper enough to take a bitch down." Simon reasons with the group.

"Remind me to give Simon a big hug the next time we see him." You say gleefully, happy someone finally recognized your strength. "Yeah, I agree. I think she has the ride-or-die kind of mindset because she will fight for you and what-not, god I love her." Harry says. You look up lovingly at him and kiss his cheek.

"So we're going Deji, Theo, Danny, Lux, Y/N, Freezy, Randy," they say as they list out their rankings. "Are we sure about Freezy and Randy?" Tobi asks, to which Harry responds, "Y/N loves getting into fights so yeah..." You glare at Harry, unsure if it was a compliment or not. "You know she's actually mad strong. The other time she accidentally turned around and elbowed my stomach and it had a huge bruise for a week," Josh added. "Does that mean you're just weak then?" Simon says. The lads just laughed and before Josh even tried to defend himself, Simon already started talking about the fan's rankings.

"Randy's third? And Danny's six?" Simon says in disbelief. "No way I think Randy and Danny swap," Harry says, he looks down the lists and sees you've been ranked at sixth. "Wait no way they voted Y/N as last. Guys have you seen her during our challenges, she would take a bitch down," Harry continues. You thanked him for 'defending your honor' and gave him a big smooch on the lips.

They continued to disagree with the fan rankings, but you honestly couldn't care less anymore. Knowing that your boyfriend thought you were tough and could hold your own was enough for you. You begin to dose off as the video continues playing, hearing Harry chuckle every now and then when his friends make a joke, as he combs your hair unconsciously.

However, one of the questions you hear as you fall asleep catches your attention. "Which youtuber is the most attractive?" You sit up, curious about what would be their rankings. The rest of boys in the video look at Harry, thinking that he would instantly say his girlfriend, but boy were they wrong. "Number one Callux," Harry says immediately. You both burst out laughing as he continues to try and correct himself, in the video, realising his girlfriend was also in the list. You pretended to act offended as Harry 'apologises profusely', peppering kisses all around your face. You couldn't help but giggle at your boyfriend's adorableness.

Laying back down in your boyfriend's arms as he wraps them tightly around you, with the video playing in the background, you look up at Harry, wondering how did you get so lucky and how much you love your life.

[disneyprincemuke]

mrs all american * archived.

who is that guy in the andretti racing garage?

pairings: bother figures x fem!driver, 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: lOLSIE OXOXOXOOXOOXOXO tell me if u want their smau too?? hehehehe

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

alex tilts his head, approaching his friends gathered right behind a crowd that’s formed in front of one of the racing hospitalities in the paddocks. “what are we doing here?”

“same sentiments,” george mutters, craning his neck to try and look over heads to see what’s all the commotion about. him and lando had been having a chat while walking in from lunch when they were greeted by a large crowd gathered and chatter filling up the air. “we’re just as curious as you.”

“but you lot were here first?” alex asks, scrunching his nose again, looking between his friends. “did andretti manage to score some big name or something for the weekend?”

“brad pitt, you reckon?” lando asks, raising his eyebrows. “nah, i don’t think so. has to be someone else.”

“maybe it’s just rocky causing terror to everyone again.”

george and lando exchange a stare and ultimately shrug with a nod. it’s not entirely impossible that it’s not the brand’s own driver who’s gathered a big crowd to watch her do something stupid.

“hey, why are there so many damn people? i just wanna take a nap before the parade.” the 3 turn around, shocked at the presence that’s announced itself behind them. the andretti racing driver stands in front of them, hands on the straps of her backpack as she looks at them curiously. they furrow their eyebrows. “what?”

“you’re not the one that’s causing all the commotion?” george tilts his head, pointing at the crowd of cameras and paparazzi behind them.

she shrugs. “i guess not. what’s going on?”

alex sighs, widening his eyes. “we have got no idea. we’re just nosey,” he takes a sip from his drink, “will you tell us when you find out later?”

she shrugs nonchalantly with a small smile. “sure. i’ll see you lads later for the parade.”

“are you hiding someone from me?” the girl, who’s just walked into the pitlane to head to the grid for the driver’s parade takes a step back with a clueless blink. “max keeps pestering me about the guest for tonight.”

she shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “why do you just assume i always know more than you?”

liam shrugs as well, frowning. “i don’t know. there’s just so much commotion on our side of the paddocks today and i’ve got no clue as to why,” liam says with a frown.

realistically, she feels bad lying straight through her teeth to everyone. but she doesn’t need anyone messing with her when the truth happens to come out before the race starts. it’s just not something she thinks she needs.

besides, everybody will find out after the race. she will just explain herself then.

“i’ve got no idea what’s going on with our garage today,” she takes a sip from her pepsi, blinking at liam innocently. “guess we’ll find out later?”

“find what out?” oscar tilts his head as they come to a stop right by him and lando, waiting for the truck to start their lap around the track.

“why we’ve been so crowded with paps today,” liam frowns. “i’m not the centre of attention and it’s simply absurd.”

lando sighs, shaking his head. “i know. i’ve barely seen a camera pointed my way today and it’s our grand prix race. something is not right.”

she shrugs with a small grin. “someone kinda famous, i guess.”

“it’s not jacob elordi again, is it?” carlos pokes his head between lando’s and hers, furrowing his eyebrows. he turns to her, met with an unamused stare and head tilt. he shrugs. “just curious. who knows if you’re seeing him again?”

she looks around their huddle, suddenly greeted by curious stares and raised eyebrows. she throws her arms in the air and shakes her head. “i’m not seeing jacob again! i haven’t seen him since the miami race last year! please let it go!”

alex narrows his eyes down with a small smirk. “you sound like you know something about andretti’s special guest.”

“you liar!” liam screams.

“i don’t!” she turns to liam with her arms in the air. she turns to alex and scowls. “why are you stirring drama? i don’t know anything about who andretti’s decided to give their stupid pass to this weekend, okay?”

alex hums, pressing his lips together. “that’s not what logan told me.”

“why would logan know anything about andretti’s guest this weekend? i’ve barely seen him.”

he shrugs, “i really thought that would break you.”

“nice try,” oscar sighs, shaking his head. “you really don’t know anything?”

she shakes her head. “i really don’t. now can we please talk about something else?”

“i’ll see you later after the race?” a soft, familiar, higher-pitched voice says. “don’t forget to watch me, okay? remember: i’m in the andretti car. don’t watch the red bulls or the ferraris, just me. you’re here for me.”

liam presses his ear against the door as if he could somehow make out who’s speaking to whom inside the room.

you can only imagine his shock when he hears a man’s voice from the other side of the door. “suddenly i’m an andretti supporter. i don’t even like ferrari.”

he hears her laugh, followed by footsteps approaching the door. “i’ll see you later, my. love you.”

the door clicks, prompting liam to hurl himself towards the stairs leading downstairs, stumbling and sliding down a couple of steps. liam pulls himself up with the railing, trying to ignore the way he can hear the confusion as the door closes.

“what are you doing?”

liam hops up to his feet, one of his foot sliding off at the edge of the steps. he coughs to cover it up and shakes his head. “i’m just super excited to be racing in vegas.”

she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you sure? is something wrong?”

he shakes his head. “nope. nothing.”

perhaps she will break the news to him after the race? he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say that phrase to anyone, much less know anyone called ‘my’.

“you don’t have anything to ask me?” she bites down on her lip, trying to keep the laugh in.

truthfully, she had heard the door rattle a couple of times and assumed that liam was being nosey outside her driver’s room. she’s more surprised that her teammate is not probing her for a more defined answer other than a shrug.

“i guess,” liam shrugs dejectedly.

he just wants her to tell him instead of having to ask her outright.

“alright, mate,” she laughs, furrowing her eyebrows. “by the way, you’re coming for ice cream tonight, right? i’ve got someone i want you to meet.”

another podium finish. it’s absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she’s got a special guest in her garage watching, the car was just good.

she knows that because liam’s finished directly behind her. she would have given him the podium if sebastian hadn’t insisted that there’s jo driver swap necessary and that it would only be riskier to do so.

she climbs out of the car, eyes crinkled towards the team gathered behind the barriers for her. she tears all of her headgear off and immediately runs forward to where her team is gathered.

“amazing!” sebastian screams, arms wide open as she approaches them. “good job, kid!”

she screeches, hopping over to where they are with her fists in the air. “i know! i literally love vegas! year after year, all vegas gives me is bangers!”

she jumps into sebastian’s arms, cheering along with her team of mechanics with their arms wrapped around her as well. “yay! another podium for me! suck it, oscar!”

“oscar catching strays,” liam mutters, tapping her on the shoulder and holding his arms out to her. throwing his arms around her, he sighs exasperatedly while a smile. “i know you had someone in your room earlier.”

“i know. you rattled the door with all your moving,” she whispers back before pulling away. she drops her head slightly as a blush slowly creeps up her cheeks. “i’m seeing somebody.”

“i also know that,” liam grins, a hand still on the small of her back. “do i get to meet him?”

“obviously. do you know how difficult it’s been to keep him out of your sight all day?” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “i promise you’ll get to meet him.”

“if i didn’t know you were a good driver, i’d have thought you made it to the podium just to impress me.”

“it’s just luck, i guess.” she grins giddily leaning in as he holds both hands up, grabbing her cheeks. “thanks for coming to watch my race.”

“absolutely. thank you so much for inviting me over.”

she scrunches her nose, hands lifted slightly behind her as she leans in with puckered lips. she’s turning 22 in a couple of weeks and the fact that this is her first public relationship ever is still new to her.

truthfully, she wasn’t even planning on dating any time soon. she’s gone 5 years — almost her entire life — not finding herself with a boyfriend, what harm would it do if she went on longer without one?

but she coincidentally found herself laughing a little too hard at his jokes and now here she is, lip locked in her garage with some guy she swore annoyed her.

“ew!”

“fuck off!” she says immediately, pulling away and whirling around with red cheeks. her hair is dishevelled, stray hairs on her face and cheeks getting redder by the second. “what are you, 12?”

max raises his eyebrows with an amused smile stretching his lips. he tilts his head to the side and ignores the driver in front of him. “who’s this? i’m max,” he holds his arm out, “i can fight.”

��max!” she shrieks, pushing max’s arm away before it can be grabbed cordially. “what is wrong with you? that’s not how you introduce yourself!”

but as she’s preoccupied with max, to her horror, she’s turned back around and the other 3 have already surrounded the poor boy with furrowed eyebrows and questions spilling on their lips.

who are you, where do you live, what’s your intentions with rocky, how long have you known her? and this is exactly why she hesitated even bringing him to the race to watch her.

“hey, what are you doing? stop doing that!” she cries, running back around to try and shoo off alex, george and lando who have well invaded her boyfriend’s personal space. before she can take 3 steps away, max grabs her shoulder and yanks her back toward him to hold her in place. “you guys are embarrassing me! you’re worse than my siblings!”

“oh, you’ve met her siblings!” alex cheers for a moment before wiping the smile from his face. “so? what are they gonna do to protect you? they’re so much younger.”

“hey! those are my sisters and brother you’re talking about!”

“ah, you get what i mean,” alex waves her off, snorting softly. he returns his attention to the boy with a small amused grin. “so? you plan on answering our questions, mate? we’ll be here all night if you don’t.”

the brunette grins. “i’m milo manheim, i’m an actor. i’m,” a blush creeps up his cheek as he bites back a smile and points over at the girl still in her race suit, “she’s my girlfriend.”

“girlfriend?” lando screams incredulously, throwing his head back in disbelief. he turns to the girl and points at milo. “you found yourself a boyfriend? did you use our advice?”

she stares at them, blinking with a toothy and fearful grin. “why… would i use your shit advice?”

“hey, what are you– oh, hey! you look–” oscar cuts himself off with a loud laugh before turning to his best friend, “oh, you little sneaky shit! no wonder you’ve been keeping your mouth shut the entire evening! it’s the guy you h–“

“guys!” she throws her arms in the air. “give me a break, please! at least let me sp–”

“how long have you guys been dating?”

“dating?” oscar asks loudly, blinking rapidly. all this is new to him. she’s always been pretty secretive and private about her dating life, so it’s not a shock that everything is only unveiling now for her.

“have you made her cry yet? every tear is one punch i get to throw without you running off to the media crying about it, kid,” max says firmly, shoving her aside so that he could take a step forward towards milo.

“max! he has not–”

the younger boy grins and puffs his chest proudly. “of course not! we’ve been going out for a couple of months, around 5 or 6?”

“wow!” george cheers, turning to her in amusement. “that’s long! you kept a secret that long?”

she shrugs. “lily knew.”

“lily knew?” oscar screams, arm darting out to punch her shoulder. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“because then you’d tell logan and lando, and then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore,” she explains, throwing her arms in the air with a knowing stare. “i don’t see the problem, really. mick knew too.”

“mick found out before me?” george shouts. “unfair!”

she shrugs again. “he saw us at the hotel lobby last night.”

“why are there so many people in my garage?” sebastian walks in, tapping his phone against his palm. “hi, milo.” he looks at the crowd of excess drivers in his garage and lifts his hands in the air to continue his interrogation. “anyone plan on answering me?”

“we’re having a meeting,” lando answers, not even sparing the older man a glance. he keeps his stare on milo. “so how did you meet?”

“we met at the eras tour in the private tent!” oscar cuts in with an amused stare. he blinks. “i gotta find logan and tell him.”

“tell me what?”

she throws her arms in the air. “did you guys agree to come to my garage after my podium just to piss me off or something?” she shouts, hands balled into fists and she stomps a foot into the ground. “what is everyone doing here? why are we having a gathering?”

“i was gonna congratulate you on the podium,” logan mutters. he trails off as he meets the familiar pair of brown eyes, the only person in their makeshift circle not in a race suit, and tilts his head. “what are you doing here? don’t i know you from somewhere?”

a silence falls in the garage, the chatter from outside the only thing that anyone can hear. max and alex share a look, then glances over at george who lifts his eyebrows with a shrug.

milo blinks. “i’m–“

“rocky’s boyfriend!” lando cheers, holding milo’s shoulder and pointing excitedly at the young boy next to him. “you didn’t know?”

“nobody knew,” she grins, explaining through gritted teeth. “except seb. cause he’s the one that let this happen.”

“rat!” max screams, whirling around to sebastian. “you said you knew nothing about who andretti’s guest is!”

“i was sworn to secrecy if not i might wake up bald tomorrow!” sebastian suddenly screams in defensive. “i don’t wanna be bald! don’t you think i haven’t thought of telling anyone?”

logan grins, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “i didn’t know you guys were talking.”

logan scratches his elbow as he turns to oscar, tilting his head and pointing between her and milo as if to ask if he’d known about it. in return, oscar shrugs.

“wait,” max shakes his head. “this is actually a thing? you guys are actually boyfriend and girlfriend? like it’s official?”

her and milo share a look. she turns to max and nods. “yeah?”

“you hesitated,” george points out. “why did you hesitate?”

heads turn to one of the men in papaya, a giggle bubbling from his stomach as he points between them. “i see what’s going on — you haven’t talked about it, have you?”

“what?” she sputters, rolling her eyes. “that is absolutely none of your business.”

oscar giggles. “but we’re right, aren’t we?”

george throws his hands in the air. “guys, leave them alone. this is seriously none of our business.”

“but i wanna know!” max whines, stomping towards milo. “how did you guys meet?”

“eras tour,” milo grins widely. “then she went home and stalked me — liked my picture from like 2021.”

“no, i didn’t!” she shrieks, hands coming up to shield her flushed cheeks away from everyone in the room. she runs over to milo and starts to push him towards the doors that lead to the paddocks. “don’t tell people i did that!”

“oh, that’s so embarrassing!” oscar tugs at his hair then hunches over as he no longer can contain his laughter. “rocky, no!”

she scratches her head and darts back towards oscar. “oscar!”

“she didn’t like me very much at first,” milo points out, grinning at her.

“oh, we know,” logan grins, folding his arms over his chest. he glances at the girl cowered next to sebastian, forehead resting on her race engineer’s arm with her hands still cupped over her cheeks then looks at everybody else. “she told us how annoying you were for like 20 minutes after the concert.”

she sighs and just drops herself into squat. “yeah, whatever.”

“mate!” liam grins, pushing the door open of their hospitality home. “i’m liam! it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

he says that as if he hadn’t just found out of his existence literally 2 hours ago.

“aw, absolutely, man,” milo grins, taking the hand that offered to him. “she talks about you all the time.”

“yeah, how fucking irritating he is,” she scoffs, throwing her head back. she steps forward and breaks their hands apart from one another, quickly wrapping her hand around milo’s arm. “let’s go for drinks!”

“really? drinking in vegas?” liam snorts, raising his eyebrow at her. “shouldn’t you have learned your lesson by now?”

“what lesson?” mick hums, appearing behind them. “drinks, right? celebrate rocky’s podium or something?”

“your lesson? what did you do in vegas that’s naughty?” milo teases, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at her. “you did something stupid, didn’t you?”

she blinks. “yeah, i almost got married in vegas this time last year.”

“married?” milo repeats with a laugh. “to whom? and what do you mean almost? it didn’t happen?”

mick sighs. “we were bested by sebastian — a lesson about drinking too much or something like that. we still engage in black out drinking though.”

the girl cheers with a soft laugh, holding a hand up and immediately receives a high-5 from the older driver.

milo laughs, wrapping an arm around her. “that’s actually kinda funny.” he looks at mick, already well acquainted from their impromptu supper in their hotel room the night before. “she is my girlfriend now though, so…”

liam scowls, looking between the 3 of them. “you guys just made it super weird.”

— bonus

“you seriously didn’t know?” oscar blinks, starting to walk away from the williams racing home alongside his friend and girlfriend, towards the exit of the paddocks to meet their friends. “you guys have been acting so weird lately.”

logan shrugs. “i bet ylona knew. they’ve been hanging out a lot lately.”

lily grins, peeking from oscar’s side to look at logan. “she does. rocky told us she was seeing somebody after they first kissed that one time in new york 2 months ago.”

“2 months ago,” logan puffs his cheeks out and shakes his head, “wow. good for her, honestly.”

“yeah,” oscar hums, “you’d think that she’d actually end up that crazy cat lady if she never finds a decent man.”

lily laughs, squeezing oscar’s arm. “we’ve hung out with him a cou–“

“you what?” oscar scowls, taking a step away from her. “what’s with all the secrecy? are you even my girlfriend anymore?”

“you say ‘we’,” logan huffs. “you’re telling me you guys reeled ylona in without either of us knowing?” lily nods. “assholes!”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"The Sunset is Beautiful Isn't It?" pt. 2

The saying above is a beautiful way to bid someone farewell without having to say goodbye and I think it perfectly fits saying goodbye to our LaD Men because we can't keep hurting them. Someone has to end it. In first person p.o.v because it's you.

Goodbye Xavier

Your POV

Queen of Philos. I've glimpsed into a past that is yet to happen. My future is Xavier's past. No wonder he's had so many identities while here on earth. Lumiere, Evol policeman it's all adding up.

She's so tired .... or I'm so tired .... I don't know .... I'm so confused. I can feel her sorrow waiting for him. Wishing her 'Star' would come home. The weight of a sorrow I have yet to experience and my own sorrow of knowing Xavier's planet is dying because he's here trying to change my future.

I'm so stupid, but part of me couldn't believe that he'd be a time traveler. The idea was ridiculous yet here I am looking at my own future in another life. Nothing is impossible.

Except this pipeline dream Xavier has of trying to save me. That's ridiculous. I've disappeared on Philos, but I can feel her sorrow still wherever she is....wherever I am? Whatever.

I stare down at a freshly napped Xavier snuggled in my lap. Those eyes gaze at me with pure happiness & love. Then he smiles; that smile is what kills a piece of my soul every time it graces his lips. I can't protect that smile. It hurts to look at him now. I love him so much and I don't regret falling in love with him, but falling in love is just that....

Falling.

We're bound to break. This isn't a movie we don't get that happily ever after.

It was a valiant effort, but wasted energy. There's no rewriting the stars. I can't have him and he can't have me. "What are you thinking about?" Xavier's soft voice pulls me from my internal dilemma.

I shake my head and let a small smile pull at my lips as I lean down and place a soft kiss on his lips. "Nothing" I whisper before diving back in wanting to stay like this, but knowing we can't.

"Oh look at that" He directs his gaze in the same direction that I'm looking right out the living room window. "The sunset is beautiful isn't it?" He simply nods before pulling me back into a passionate kiss. I'll enjoy him one last time because after tonight. We can never meet again.

Xavier's POV

She was gone. I woke up alone in her bed with just her hunter watch in my hand. Panic immediately set in as I scrambled out of bed searching her apartment for her. The only thing missing was a few clothes and her favorite duffle.

"I have to find her" I told myself as I searched day and night for her. I contacted every single one of her coworkers, but none of them had heard from her.

That was almost a year ago and this is my last spring on earth. How does one simply disappear in such a way? I wish I could see her one last time, but wherever she's gone she doesn't want to be found. My little star has left me this time.

Goodbye Sylus

"Where are you going?" His deep timbre voice sends shivers down my spine. My hand froze on the front door handle. I didn't think catch me leaving while in the middle of his usual sleep schedule. I spin around mustering up a tight smile "What are you doing up?" I asked trying to steer the conversation is a different direction.

His red eyes narrowed as he studies me "Where. Are. You. Going?" He added emphasis on each word as he approached me, crowding my space. He pressed his hands against the door trapping me between him and my only exit. My mouth was suddenly dry as he stared down at me.

"I need to go back to my place for a few things"

"Since when do you pack up your clothes here for a quick trip to Linkon?" He tilted his chin towards the duffle in my hand. My mind went blank as I saw his eye begin to glow.

"Okay okay! Sylus I love you .... I do, but I keep having these flashbacks or maybe it's the future I don't know, but every time it ends with me stabbing you in the chest" He eyes me before dropping his gaze to our feet exhaling sharply. "Right in your heart" A single tear slips from my eye as my voice cracks.

"Is that why you have this scar on your chest?" I asked pressing my hand to his chest. "Is that why you're so sensitive here?" He turns his head away as he releases a shaky breath. "I told you it's not a big deal"

"It is a big deal and whatever we're doing here is going to end in tragedy and I can't live with the constant reminder that I'm going to hurt you" His head snaps back up so fast I flinch and my blood runs cold with the intense stare he's giving me. "What are you saying?"

He stands tall and crosses his arms over his chest finally giving me space to breathe. I take a deep breath before responding "I'm leaving"

"Like hell you are"

"This isn't up for discussion" I turn my back to him and yank the door open desperate for fresh air. Before closing it behind me I spare him a glance over my shoulder "Don't look for me .... please"

Sylus' POV

If this kitten thinks she can hide from me. She's sadly mistaken. The chase is just getting started. I'll find you no matter where you go. Our red string of fate that ties us together can't be severed that easily. We're endgame sweetie.

Zayne & Rafayel here....

[octuscle]

Every Friday Night

What do you give someone who actually has everything? My friend Daniel is celebrating his 40th birthday next Saturday. We've been inseparable since high school. By his own admission, he's had a good life: he's a fairly successful doctor, most people appreciate his pleasant if somewhat reserved nature, and time has only given him the occasional gray hair, a slight tummy and shallow laugh lines on his gentle face.

Although he has had to make some sacrifices over the years to achieve his professional and social status, he admits that it has all been worth it. Until now, I always believed that too. What reason did I have not to? Until we had perhaps one or two too many glasses of wine yesterday. The wine loosened his tongue. And Daniel said wistfully that he regretted not having a more rebellious youth.

Shit, I've had a bit too much wine myself… I'm afraid I've been up to some shenanigans. At least I have a Chronivac app on my phone and I get text messages that my subscription is activated. And there's a countdown. Shit, I have a bad headache. And no idea what's going on.

Daniel calls me and asks me what the calendar entry is for Friday evening. It says "Gym" in the calendar. Yeah, right. Gym. Friday night. Isn't that what we always do? I'm a bit confused. Daniel too. "Yes, of course!" he says. Gym on Friday. As always. Will I pick him up? For some reason, I tell him to meet me at the bus stop. Sure, says Daniel. We haven't taken the bus since school days.

Friday evening. It feels normal to meet Daniel at the bus stop. We're both still wearing our casual business outfits from the office. And a sports bag with us. When was the last time I went to the gym? Shit, last Friday of course. We go every Friday. At least. Daniel greets me with a fist bump and offers me a cigarette. Neither of us smoke.

When the bus arrives, Daniel goes straight through to the back. He sits down in the last row with his legs apart and starts rolling a fag. I sit down next to him. Damn, he smells of sweat and tobacco. i start playing with my cell phone. since when do i have a tiktok account? A guy gives me tips on taking Trenbolone. Daniel looks at my screen, grabs my cock and says that the stuff makes me a muscle whore and shrinks my balls. i ask him why that's a problem. We laugh. The people around us roll their eyes. The bus arrives at our station. As we walk to the exit, Dan lights his cigarette. Before we're even off the bus, I take it out of his mouth and take a deep drag. Fuck the smoking ban!

I think the gym sucks, but Dan really wanted to train here. The other guys are pumping iron in our neighborhood. It's closer and you can go straight to the pub with the lads afterwards. But Dan is obsessed with the big boys. He really wants to become a freak. And shit, we're bros. I have to go with him. And to be honest, I totally dig his gym acne. I bet he's going to be a freak.

Training was like, totally lit, dude! The big boys have our backs all the way, major props. That's so dope. But Dan, he's such a poser, always flexing with pics and posts. And TikTok, non-stop! But man, he's already got a squad of followers. Now we're heading to the pub to meet up with the boys, but we're stuck on this darn bus for another freakin' half hour. The shower situation is a total bummer anyways. A quick spray of Axe under the pits, a dab of wax in the hair – good to go! Hey, Dan nailed it with the fresh cut, maybe I should chop mine off too.

Saturday morning. I feel a bit like I've been run over by a bus. In general… Buses. Shit, what have I been dreaming about buses? Tonight is Daniel's birthday party. He's celebrating at the Savoy. Cocktails at the bar, dinner at the grill… I still have to get my tuxedo from the cleaners. And I still need a present… Stop, wait… Didn't I already give him a present?

The birthday party was nice. A bit stiff. At around 02:00, we sit at the bar for one last drink. And Daniel asks me if I can remember last night. Funny, I have no idea what I did. Neither does he.

Thursday evening I receive a message via WhatsApp. Unknown number. We are supposed to pick up our stuff tomorrow at 16:00. Same place as usual. I have no idea what it's about. Daniel calls me to say that someone has told him that we still owe him 100 pounds for some stuff and that we should fucking bring it tomorrow. We both have no idea what it's about…

I get another message at midday on Friday. I ask if we can bring the appointment forward to 5pm. It's not my new iPhone. It's an old scratched device with a cracked display. I reply: "I'm sorry, but we're still at the gym until 18:00. Unfortunately, I can't make it any earlier." My fingers are moving as if remote-controlled. And now I have to go. The disco-poser biceps don't pump up by themselves.

Yo, so check it out, Dan's out here thinking he's this mega athlete, but homeboy be puffin' on them cancer sticks like there's no tomorrow, I'm talkin' 'bout 10 to 15 smokes a day? Psshh, child's play! Dan be double dosin' that, like he's tryna set the world record for most Marlboros inhaled in 24 hours or somethin'. And then, to top it off, dude's pullin' shady moves like stealin' cash from his pops just to fund his steroid stash! Man, I'm grindin' my butt off every night at the slaughterhouse just to keep up with them gym beasts, and this dude be relyin' on his daddy's wallet? Nah man, he gotta get a real job! Then, as if things couldn't get any wilder, my boy Liam starts talkin' 'bout Tren, that hardcore juice that supposedly turns you into a freakin' beast. I've heard stories, man, dudes growin' extra body parts and all! But me and Dan, we playin' it safe, stickin' to our old school supps for now. Ain't nobody tryna grow a third nipple just yet, you feel me?

I swear, Dan is like a walking perfume factory of pure musk. If he just lifts his arm, he's got every dude and babe in the gym drooling over him. Meanwhile, I'm just here, living my best life at all times. And now, the tattoo sesh with the artist is a no-go. Total bummer. I was so stoked to get my full-on sleeve inked up tomorrow evening. It's just way cooler to flex those guns in a tank at the club, you know? I love flaunting my hard-earned biceps. Gotta keep grinding, you feel me?

I slept naked tonight. And as rumpled as my bed is, I had wild dreams. I've got a movie tear again. My last memory was of strange messages I received on someone else's cell phone. When I walk into the bathroom, my heart almost stops. I have a bloody tattoo on my forearm! I raise my arm to see if there are any more. Dude! Eileen usually epilates my armpits every two weeks. Where did the bush under my arms come from? And why does it smell like I haven't showered for three weeks? I really need to take a shower. Although I have an urgent urge to go to the gym again straight away. That rarely happens. My inner bastard usually wins out at the weekend. And if I'm motivated, I should take advantage of it. I could ask Daniel if he fancies a game of squash at the club, I think to myself as I soap up. When I get out of the shower, I get a message from Daniel. He asks me if I have any idea where his tattoo came from. And whether I fancy a game of squash at the club.

I have no idea what's happening to us. On the one hand, I feel much fitter than I did a few weeks ago. On the other hand, Daniel and I have both started smoking. And we got tattoos. Obviously in a drunken stupor. At the age of 40! Who does that? I mean, Daniel seems so much more relaxed. At work, in his private life. And that pays off. He's never received so much positive feedback… And it's hardly any different for me. I feel so much more agile. And shit, I think about sex all the time. And mostly sex with Daniel.

On Thursdays I somehow always start to get restless. I used to primarily look forward to the week being over. But now I'm looking forward to the weekend starting. Kind of like it used to be. At school or university. And Saturdays and Sundays aren't much different than they were a month or two ago. And I can't remember the last few Fridays for the life of me. And the funny thing is that Daniel obviously feels the same way. It's almost Friday morning when I get a new message from the same number as last week. "Ive got a hell of a lot of m1y on u. Dont let meh down. And if u W, ill owe u 1". I really have no idea what that means. For some reason I save the number under "Liam".

Normally "casual friday" for me means wearing chinos with a blazer. Sometimes with just a white t-shirt underneath. But usually with a button-down shirt. Today I'm wearing a sweat suit with a hoodie top under a down vest. The neckline of the tank top underneath is so low that you can see the gap between my pecs. I actually didn't think about it. It just felt right. And no one in the office questioned it. On the contrary, I get a lot of compliments. My boss personally praises my tight ass. At 3:00 pm I get a message from Daniel: "Dude, were r u? fite starts @ 20:00. Didnt we want 2 trin beforehand? n da photo shoot is b4 tht 2!" I call him and ask him what that shit means. He can't remember any message he's supposed to have sent me. But the fact is that I have to go now, even if I still have no idea where I'm going or why.

Oh my god, this night is straight up LIT AF! Had a sick sesh at training with my ride-or-die homie. Then my first presser, ya boy's the ultimate underdog for this brawl. Cameras flashing like crazy. And then the showdown. Damn, your boy's killin' it. But KO in round two? No one saw that coming. Except Liam, he had faith. Dan's hating, thinking it's all fake. He's just salty. Bros gonna hate, but we're tight. Now we're popping bottles for the win. Liam's shouting that tonight's on him. We ain't gotta be told twice, let's partyyyy!

I could swear my nose looks like it's been broken in more than one fight. Somehow I remember boxing matches from the past. But when? At university? I was more of a debating and astronomy club kind of guy. Shit, Daniel and I need a new sports club. This stuffy country club is for wimps. Yes, we're 40 years old. But fit as fuck. There may be customers and colleagues who turn up their noses at us because of our tattoos. But hey, we weren't born with a silver spoon in our mouths. We've fought for everything we've achieved. And Dan and I agree that we've been really successful.

Yes, we like our jobs. And we're both good at it. But real life starts on Friday afternoon. Damn, you can bet your life on it!

[lemoncrushh]

Heartstrings

Summary: You become One Direction's new guitarist and you and your best friend Harry realize you have feelings for each other.

Warnings: None, this is just cute fluff.

Word Count: 5971

A/N: This was a special request I'd received in 2016. It was originally three parts, but I've combined them into one.

I need to talk to you

You must have stared at the text for ten minutes. Harry never said he needed to talk to you. He just talked. Whenever, wherever. The most he might do is ask if you were busy before immediately going into what he wanted to talk about. Even if you were busy, he knew you'd get back to him when you could.

But this...this wasn't him. This wasn't light-hearted, cheeky Harry Styles that you'd known since he was sixteen. The best friend, the confidant. The one person who could make you laugh even when you were at the lowest of the low. This? This was a serious text.

The truth was you had started to develop feelings for Harry. Feelings that surpassed those of mere friendship. It had started out as a little flutter in your chest about a year ago when you'd gone to his house to hang out. You'd watched a movie that was one of his favourites but you'd never seen, and you were enthralled by his enthusiasm. You'd sat on the sofa next to him, your legs tucked underneath you as you watched his mouth while he spoke. Then your eyes travelled down the length of his body, his torso and long legs both clad in all black. You'd blinked and shook your head. This was your best friend. When you'd gotten home that night, lying in bed and thinking of Harry in a different light, you dismissed it as a crush. That was all it was. It would go away.

One year later, and it hadn't gone away. In fact, the feelings were stronger. But you resolved never to let him know.

Finally, shaking your head, you texted Harry back two letters.

Ok

Your phone immediately rang, startling you. Seeing Harry's name displayed, you swiped to unlock it.

"Hey," you said apprehensively.

"Hey, remember when I said the band was gonna need a new guitarist for this tour?" Harry asked, barely giving you time to breathe.

"Uh...yeah?"

"Well, I got the most brilliant idea. And I ran it by the guys and the rest of the band. And they'd like you to come by the studio some time next week."

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"You know, to run through some songs. See how comfortable you are," explained Harry.

"What- What d'ya mean?" you swallowed what felt like a ball of cotton in your throat.

You heard Harry chuckle. "I mean, you might be our new guitarist."

"Harry!" you exclaimed. "Are you serious?"

"Well...if you're good enough."

"Oh my God!" you fell back on your bed, your head hitting the pillow as you kicked your legs in the air.

Harry laughed harder as you bounced on your mattress with glee, telling him thank you over and over again.

Your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as you grabbed the neck of your guitar and slung the strap over your head, handing it to one of the crew. Stepping off the stage, you felt a surge of adrenaline - the same feeling you'd been getting night after night for the last two months.

"Great show, lads!" you heard Louis exclaim behind you. "You too, Y/N, absolutely incredible."

You turned around, grinning at him as you walked backwards. You nearly tripped until Harry grabbed your arm, steadying you.

"Careful, love," he said. "Don't think we have you insured yet."

You rolled your eyes at him, despite the electricity that his touch ignited on your skin. "Very funny."

Harry's lips turned up into his signature grin, and as you walked backstage together, you made note that his hand had slid down the length of your arm until dropping beside his hip.

"You were on fire tonight," he commented.

"Me?" you raised your eyebrows.

"Yeah. Like...really alive."

You sucked in your lips, hoping your blushing was masked by the already apparent heat on your face from exertion.

"Thanks."

"I like having you here."

The commotion backstage made it impossible to give a response then, but you stood frozen in your tracks for a moment, staring at Harry as he shifted his gaze to observe the hallway. As far as you were concerned, however, the hallway was empty. And you and Harry were the only ones there.

You weren't really sure how you managed to get to your dressing room. But an hour and a half, a shower, and two burritos later, you re-entered the hallway, now virtually empty. You watched as a few crew members carried things out the back door until seeing another dressing room door open across from you.

"Hey," grinned Harry, the wet ends of his hair dripping on the shoulders of his t-shirt.

"Hi," you yawned, though you didn't feel the least bit sleepy.

"Gonna sleep well tonight, yeah?" he winked, walking past you toward the exit.

"Probably not, I never do," you let slip before thinking.

Harry looked back at you as you followed him.

"Why not?"

You swallowed hard. You weren't about to tell him the reason you had sleepless nights was because you were crazy about him and thought about him every second of every day. And you lied awake night after night in your bunk on the bus doing the same until you finally let the night consume you.

"Um...just don't sleep that great on the bus," you shrugged.

"Oh," you said when you reached the doorway leading outside. "Actually, neither do I."

"Really?"

You walked side by side out to where the buses were parked. You shared one with the rest of the musicians, while Harry and the other boys shared another.

"Yeah. I usually end up staying up reading or playing games on my phone until I can't keep my eyes open. Sometimes until we get to the hotel. Then I crash."

"Ah," you nodded. "So that's why I never see you all day."

Harry chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Sorry."

You saw Niall climb onto the bus then, followed by Liam and Louis. You knew Harry would be next, but for some reason he was still standing next to you. You continued to stare straight ahead as the wind whipped through your hair, the dampness causing a slight chill.

"Would be nice to spend some more time together," you heard a voice say, and for a moment you didn't even think it was Harry's.

"What?" you asked, jerking your head to look at him.

"I said it would be nice to spend some time with you. You know, off stage."

"Oh," you mouthed. You bit your lip to keep from grinning, though inside you were screaming.

"If I try not to stay up all night, you wanna do something tomorrow?"

"Um...sure. Yeah." You silently cursed yourself for sounding so moronic. When did talking to Harry, your best friend, suddenly become so difficult?

"I mean, I don't know if we'll be able to go anywhere, we'll have to see. Might just hang out at the hotel."

"That's fine," you nodded.

The sudden noise of the buses being cranked up made you jump, and you felt your heart sink.

"Guess it's time to go," you gestured toward the buses. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Night, Y/N," he lifted his hand in a slight wave.

You gave him a tight smile before turning for your bus. Just as you reached the bottom step, you heard Harry call your name again. You looked over at him, his hand on the side of his bus.

"You were great tonight!" he yelled over the engine.

"Thanks!" you beamed at him. "So were you!"

Harry's dimple dipped deeper into his cheek as his booted feet climbed the steps and he disappeared onto the bus.

A loud obnoxious sound woke you up, and it took a minute to realize it was a knock on the door.

One good thing about being the only female in the band was you always got your own room in any hotel you stayed in. Even when you'd offered to stay with Lou and Lottie, it was insisted that you get your own room. You still weren't exactly sure who's decision that had been, but you weren't about to argue.

Throwing the massive duvet aside, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and made your way to the door. You opened it a crack before you saw Harry standing on the other side.

"Morning," he grinned at you, his eyes momentarily shifting to your pajamas before returning to your face.

"Hey," you cleared your throat. "What time is it?"

"12:30," he replied. "So not exactly morning."

"Morning is any time you've just woken up," you argued with sleepy eyes.

"Did I wake you? I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you scratched your head. "I needed to wake up. I'm actually surprised your awake."

"I promised I wasn't gonna stay up on the bus. I got a couple hours before we arrived here. Then slept like a baby."

The way he was smiling just then reminded you of the early days of your friendship. He looked sixteen again and you couldn't help but smile back.

"So what's the plan for today?" you inquired.

Harry shrugged. "Didn't really have one. Just playing it by ear."

"I suppose it's too late for breakfast," you said.

"Lunch then?"

"Give me twenty minutes?"

He nodded. "Sure. Meet you downstairs."

"You're being ridiculous," you shook your head.

Your stomach and cheeks hurt from laughing so much. After lunch, you and Harry had decided to just go back up to your room to chat - his idea as he said the two of you had been so busy lately that you hadn't really had time to catch up on just being...Harry and Y/N.

He was being his old self, cracking corny jokes and making you laugh like a hyena. You hadn't felt such joy in a long time. Other than the joy you felt on stage. But that was different. That was an adrenaline rush, a feeling of self-worth and pride. Knowing you were getting to live your dream doing what you loved. This...this was the best kind of joy. Being with your favourite person and just enjoying each other's company.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, your back against the bed as you held your acoustic guitar in your lap. You'd been strumming absent-mindedly for the last hour throughout your conversation, though never really playing anything.

As you caught your breath from the giggling, your fingers found a G chord, followed by an E minor as your other hand strummed them both. Then you began to finger pick, not really conscious of what you were playing until you realized you were singing along to "18".

When you'd finished the first chorus, you lifted your head to find Harry watching you, a gentle smile on his lips. Embarrassed slightly, you continued with the second verse but didn't sing.

"Why'd you stop?" Harry asked.

"I didn't," you smirked. "I'm still playing."

"I meant the singing."

You shrugged. "I'm not a singer."

"I would say you are," remarked Harry. "You have a lovely voice."

You hummed before shaking your head. "I'll just stick to guitar."

"If you say so, Y/N," Harry rolled his eyes, rising from the floor and crossing to the bed.

He sat down next to where you were, his long legs in your peripheral view. You heard him sigh and you knew he'd laid back on the bed.

"So, kiss me where I lay down, my hands pressed to your cheeks..." you sang softly.

You finished the rest of the song, accompanying yourself. Then you sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds (although it seemed like forever) before standing up and putting your guitar back in its case.

"Probably about time to head to the venue," you declared. "Soundcheck soon."

It wasn't until you turned around that you realized Harry was staring at you, his arm behind his head. It was a strange look. Not a bad one necessarily. Just one you hadn't seen before. At least not when he looked at you.

"What?" you asked.

Harry blinked though his eyes were still focused on you. It made your stomach do somersaults, and you weren't sure what to make of it. Finally, he shook his head.

"Nothing." You watched as he sat up, slapping his hands on his thighs. "See ya later."

With that, he opened the door to step out into the hallway. But you didn't miss it when he turned to you once more, that same strange look on his face, before heading down the hall to his room.

You sat on your hotel bed, playing your guitar, a classical piece that you'd learned at university. You were a little more than halfway through when there was a knock at your door. Stopping, you laid your guitar on the bed before rising and crossing the room.

"Hi," a beanie-capped Harry greeted you with a grin which you returned.

"Hey," you said. "What have you been up to?"

You noticed the hoodie that Harry had gripped in his hand, his t-shirt marked with sweat.

"Just got back from a run. I was wondering if you'd like to go to dinner."

"Um...dinner?" you blinked.

"Yeah. After I shower of course."

Harry's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as he spoke, the same grin still on his face. You couldn't help but bite your lip at how attractive he looked at that moment.

"Sure," you breathed. "Sounds good."

"Great, I'll be back in half an hour."

You nodded and sucked in your lips as you watched him walk away. Shutting the door, you leaned against it.

Since that day in your hotel room a week ago, you and Harry had continued spending more time together. A couple of times you'd ventured out of the hotel into whatever city you'd happened to be at that time. You (or rather Harry) had been recognized, but you didn't mind standing back while he took selfies with fans. You enjoyed your time together, even if it was just sitting in your room watching television.

You reminded yourself that this was how it had always been. Yet you couldn't deny that your feelings were growing stronger with each moment.

Watching him in his element on stage, in front of the massive audience of adoring fans, you felt a burst of pride. He was a rockstar. But the moments you spent alone...these were your favorite. Your stomach flipped at the sight of him, your face felt warm as you became aware of your smile growing wider. You couldn't help it. He made you happy. This was no longer just a crush.

You stared at the guitar on the bed. This was one of your free days between shows. You'd seen Harry earlier that morning at breakfast, but when he hadn't divulged his plans for the rest of the day, you'd decided to retreat to your room, spending some quality time with yourself.

The thought of going to dinner shouldn't have been a big deal. You'd eaten with him many times. But suddenly you were nervous.

Grabbing your suitcase from the floor, you dropped it onto the bed next to your guitar. Rummaging through it, you tried to find something suitable to wear for this dinner - something casual that didn't look like you were trying too hard, but still looked nicer than the joggers and t-shirt you were wearing.

Finally opting for your favorite jeans and a soft jumper in a dark plum shade, you changed quickly, touching up your make-up and running a brush through your hair. You'd just slipped into your shoes when another knock sounded. Opening the door, you saw Harry in a black t-shirt and a satin jacket, his long legs covered in his ever present black skinny jeans. He looked amazing to say the least. You almost had to stop yourself from mouthing "wow."

"Hi," you smiled as you noticed his own stare. "So where are we headed?"

"Um..." Harry cleared his throat, refocusing his eyes on yours, "there's a restaurant down the street. I thought we could walk there."

"Fine with me," you said.

Grabbing your bag and your card key, you stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind you. As you walked to the lift with Harry, you could feel his eyes on you. Shifting your own gaze, you saw the same look on his face that he'd had a week ago in your room.

"What is it?" you asked with a chuckle, trying to play it off.

"You look lovely," he replied, his eyes serious.

"Oh," you muttered shyly, looking down at your ensemble. "Thank you."

"I don't think I've seen you in that colour of lipstick before. Matches your jumper."

You automatically sucked in your lips as the elevator doors opened and you stepped in. Gripping the strap of your bag, you stood like a statue on the way down. You mentally told yourself to chill out. This wasn't even a date or anything. This was still your best friend.

Your best friend who'd picked you up at your door and told you you looked lovely and commented on your lipstick.

The sun was setting, the cool night air giving you a calm feeling as you walked next to Harry down the sidewalk. You gazed up at the tall buildings next to you and across the street, a couple more hotels mixed in with businesses and boutiques. You and Harry made small talk, chatting about the band and the next city on your agenda for the tour. Finally, at the end of the block, you crossed the street to find a restaurant at the corner. Harry held the door open for you and you stepped in to be greeted by a tall, ginger-haired maitre d. He gave you both a smile before telling you to follow him.

You sat across from Harry at a small table against the wall. After ordering drinks and taking a gander at the menu, you shook your head, feeling ridiculous about the butterflies that had taken up residence in your belly. You repeated to yourself over and over - This is not a date. It's just Harry.

"So how was your run?" you inquired, setting your menu down in front of you.

Harry snickered, practically rolling his eyes.

"What?" you asked, your eyes wide. "What'd I say?"

"You wanna talk about my run?"

"Sure, why not? How far did you go?"

Harry licked his lips before leaning forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Y/N," he said, his voice low. "Why are you acting weird?"

You blinked. "What do you mean? I'm not acting weird."

Harry smirked, shaking his head. "You looked straight ahead in the lift, as though you were frightened of something. You talked about the weather and the band on the walk here, without even looking at me. Now you're asking me about my run? I've known you for years, Y/N, you've never asked me how far I've run."

"Really?" you played dumb, looking down at the silverware. "Well, maybe I should have."

Harry chuckled. "You wanna know what kind of shoes I wear, too?"

"Sure," you shrugged, thumbing the edge of the fork. "Why not? You're my best friend, you'd think I'd already know these things."

"Y/N," said Harry. "Look at me, please."

Lifting your head, you saw the confusion on his face. "What's going on?"

In a split second you decided you were being foolish and there was no way you were going to give any hint as to your feelings for him. You shook your head, giving him a smile.

"Nothing," you promised. "I'm sorry if I was being weird. I guess it's just odd...you know, being on tour with you."

"How so?" Harry raised a brow.

"Because...I know you. But I guess I never really knew this part of you."

"You've seen me on stage before," he remarked.

"I know, but this is different. I'm with you on stage. I'm with you at the hotel. I'm with you now."

"We're having dinner, love. We've done this before, too."

Just then, the waiter came to take your order, momentarily freeing you from the awkward conversation. When he left, however, Harry returned his gaze to you. You chewed on your bottom lip before lifting your water glass to take a sip.

"So are you gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked.

You shook your head again. "Nothing's wrong, Harry. Can we just drop it?"

"Fine," he sighed, dropping his shoulders.

You released your own sigh, but one of relief. At least temporarily. You had a feeling Harry wasn't going to let it go completely, but at least you could bide some time and enjoy your dinner.

Once again, your cheeks hurt from laughing. You and Harry were back in your room, lying on your massive hotel bed watching a stand-up comedian on the TV.

"Be back, I have to wee," declared Harry as he rose from the bed.

When he shut the bathroom door, you sat up, trying to catch your breath, wiping your eyes. It felt good to be back to your old self, the same goofiness that you and Harry shared as friends. You wanted to push away the non-friendship feelings you were having, because apparently Harry was getting some sort of vibe from you and it made both of you uncomfortable. You weren't about to lose his friendship over this stupid...crush-thing...whatever the hell it was.

Muting the television, you grabbed your guitar. Playing always calmed your nerves. It had been your escape, your therapy since you were thirteen. You began to play the same classic piece that you'd been playing earlier when Harry had knocked on your door. You closed your eyes, letting your fingers do the work while your brain painted pictures in your head. You heard the door open, but you kept your eyes shut, focusing on the music and the colours that made up the picture.

You could hear his breathing when you stopped, but he didn't say anything. Finally opening your eyes, you saw Harry leaning against the door frame, his eyes not on the guitar, but on your face.

"I heard you playing that earlier," he said.

"Mmm hmm," you nodded.

"I remember that one. It's one of my favourites."

You gave a small smile, grabbing your guitar by the neck and preparing to lower it back into its case.

"No," Harry held up his hand. "Don't stop. Keep playing."

"It's over," you shrugged.

"Then play something else," he requested, walking towards you. "I like watching you play."

Biting your lip, you scooted back a bit on the bed, the guitar in your lap. You began strumming a random chord progression before settling on "Blackbird" by the Beatles. You caught Harry's grin as he took another step forward and crawled back onto the bed. The bed shifted a bit as he laid back in the spot he'd been before, situating onto his side, propped on his elbow.

You sang along softly, feeling slightly nervous that he was watching you. When you plucked the final chord, and turned your head, you almost jumped at his expression.

It was a version of the same look he'd given you earlier only with wider eyes and a dimpled smile. His eyes blinked softly as he shook his head.

"You're amazing," he declared.

"Thanks," you nearly whispered.

"I could listen to you all night," he added, lying on his back, his hands behind his head. "In fact, go ahead and sing me to sleep."

You chuckled, nudging him in the hip. "Sorry, I don't do lullabies by request."

"Bugger," he muttered, his eyes closed.

You giggled again as you finally put the guitar back in the case. Then you laid back against the pillow.

"Wanna finish watching this?" you asked, grabbing the remote.

"Nah," Harry replied.

"Okay."

You stared at the ceiling in awkward silence until you suddenly felt Harry's hand touch yours, threading his fingers through. You dared to turn your head to look at him, but his eyes were still shut.

"I'm so glad you're here, Y/N," he said softly.

"Me too," you whispered.

Harry's eyes fluttered open then. It was hard to read his face this time. But one thing was certain. He wasn't peeling his gaze away from yours.

Rolling onto his side again, you felt the nerves tenfold as you anticipated his next move. You swallowed hard when he brought his over hand up to grip your hip, pulling you closer to him. You shifted onto your side then to face him as he lifted his hand to your cheek. His eyes seemed to sparkle when you looked into them, getting lost in the green. How did you never notice how green they were?

"Y/N," Harry whispered.

"Yes?"

Your heart was beating so fast, you thought surely it would beat right out of your chest. Harry's hand slid down your cheek, his fingers and thumb gripping your chin. Your eyes fluttered closed, waiting patiently. Then ever so gently, he lowered his mouth, pressing his lips against yours.

You bit your lip as you silently cursed yourself. Turning for the backstage area, you handed one of the crew your Strat, trading it for your acoustic guitar. You were having an off night. And you knew why.

That kiss the night before in your hotel room.

Okay, it was more than a kiss. At least it was to you. To you it had only confirmed your feelings for Harry. No longer were you teetering on the fence. You'd fallen for him.

Stepping back out onto the stage, you listened to Liam's chat with the crowd though your eyes were on another certain lad. Your heart thumped in your chest as you watched him wave to the audience, preparing to start the next song. On cue, you began strumming, though your skills now were automatic. You weren't even aware of what you were playing. All you could think about was that kiss...

His lips were incredibly soft. He took his time, careful not to rush. After the first few kisses, you felt his tongue swipe across your bottom lip. Opening your mouth slightly, you invited him in, your tongue meeting his. You felt a sound rise from your throat as you slid your hand up his chest and around to the back of his neck. He pulled you closer to him, his hand grazing the bit of exposed skin above the waistband of your jeans.

His touch felt electric. You thought you heard him hum against you as he continued to devour your lips. You couldn't believe this was happening. Every fiber inside you was on fire, a buzz zig-zagging down your body.

Your lips separated for a moment and your eyes opened slightly to see his mouth still nearly touching yours. His breath tickled your face as you continued to focus on his lips, almost afraid to meet his eyes. Suddenly, you saw his mouth form a word and it took you a second realize it was your name.

You blinked as you shifted your eyes up to look at his, the green seemingly darker than before.

"I...um..." Harry hesitated, swallowing hard. "I should probably go."

You opened your mouth, ready to ask him why, but you stopped yourself. "Oh."

"I mean...it's late and...I have an interview in the morning..."

"Oh yeah," you nodded vigorously. "Yeah, sure."

You watched as Harry climbed off the bed, grabbing his jacket that he'd tossed in the chair before walking to the door. You stayed in your spot, too nervous to move. When he looked back at you, he had that same strange expression on his face. You wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but your mouth was suddenly dry.

"I'll uh, see you tomorrow," he said.

You blinked and nodded. It was all you could do.

"'Night," Harry added before opening the door and slipping out.

You sat up then, looking around the room as though it held the answers. Your stomach flipped, only this time with a different kind of feeling. The worried feeling that Harry had regretted that kiss.

The song was over but for some reason you hadn't moved from your spot.

"Y/N" you suddenly heard, and you looked around before you realized it was coming from your ear monitor.

Completely flustered and embarrassed, you turned around once more to exchange guitars with the roadie. Slinging the strap over your head, you heard the bass drum kick in and you counted off for your intro to the next song. Trying your best to stay focused this time, you completed the rest of the concert, watching Harry and the other boys give the fans what they wanted.

Walking backstage, you handed off your guitar, wiping the sweat from your brow.

"Y/N," you heard again, this time coming from Niall who came jogging up behind you.

"I know, Niall, I missed my cue. I'm sorry," you told him, dropping your shoulders in defeat.

"You alright?" he asked with concern.

"I'm fine," you explained. "Just an off night, I guess."

"No worries, love," said Louis as he passed you, tapping you on the shoulder. "You were great."

You sucked in your lips, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. You shouldn't have let the memory of the night before distract you from your playing.

You continued down the hallway and were almost to your dressing room when you heard your name once more. Stopping in your tracks, you turned to see Harry walking towards you.

"Everything okay?" he inquired, his brows furrowed.

"Yes, alright?!" you exclaimed throwing up your hands. "I know, I fucked up a couple times! It happens! Aren't people allowed to make mistakes in this band?"

"Hey, easy," said Harry in a firm yet calming tone, gently grabbing your arms. "Yes, it's allowed. I was just making sure you were okay."

You shifted your eyes everywhere to avoid his gaze. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just fine."

Pulling away from him, you turned around and walked into your dressing room, slamming the door behind you.

Your chest was heaving with sobs. You weren't sure how long you'd been lying on your hotel bed crying. You hadn't bothered to say goodnight to Harry or anyone else when you'd left your dressing room and bolted for the bus. When you'd made it to the hotel, a very sleepy Harry and Niall had followed you into the lift, but no one had uttered a word and you'd avoided eye contact. As soon as you'd made it to your room, you'd pushed it open just as you heard something that sounded like your name, but you hadn't bothered to acknowledge it.

You hadn't even gotten undressed. Your suitcase sat just inside the door where you'd left it. You'd gone to the bathroom and left the light on, too exhausted and upset to turn it off. The light shone underneath the door, giving the only light in the room.

Why did one kiss have to turn you for a loop? Everything was fine before that kiss. You and Harry were still in the friend zone. He'd taken you to dinner, which had been a bit awkward but then you'd come back to your room and were having fun like old times. Why did he have to kiss you? And why did you have to let him?

Because I'm in love with him, you told yourself.

A fresh set of tears began to fall at the silent confession, just as you heard a knock at the door. Your body jolted, confused that perhaps you were hearing things. But when it sounded again, you knew someone was on the other side.

Quickly wiping your eyes, you rose from the bed, inhaling and exhaling deeply before opening the door. You blinked as the light from the hallway temporarily blinded you before you realized it was Harry standing there.

"H-Hi," you whispered, not sure what else to say.

"Can I come in?" he asked, his voice deep.

"Um...it's nearly four in the morning, Harry, I-"

"I don't care," he interrupted. "I need to talk to you."

You raised your eyebrows then. The last time he'd used that phrase had been in a text. But you recalled how nervous you had been then. The next thing you knew, you were One Direction's new guitarist.

"Yeah," you stepped back, allowing him to enter the room. "Sure."

Closing the door, you walked to the lamp to turn it on instead of flooding the room with unnecessary light. When you turned back around, Harry was standing at the foot of the bed, that odd look on his face. Dropping your shoulders, you let out an exasperated breath.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?" you asked him.

"Like what?"

"Like...that," you pointed. "Like you're confused about something, or trying to solve me like some long math problem."

Harry took a step toward you. It looked as though he was about to reach out to you but changed his mind and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I am confused," he admitted. "Because I never thought..."

His words trailed off as he looked down at his feet which you now noticed were bare.

"You never thought what?" you whispered.

You watched him bite his bottom lip before blowing out an embarrassed chuckle. He shook his head and looked up at you.

"I never thought I'd feel this way about you."

Your heart went still in your chest. "You mean the kiss?"

"Yeah, I mean..." he nodded, stepping even closer, "I mean the kiss. But I mean everything else, too."

"Everything else?"

Harry lifted his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing your bottom lip and down your chin.

"I enjoy being with you, Y/N," he cooed. "I know we've been friends for a long time, but... I feel like it's more than that now. Don't you?"

You nodded silently, raising your hand to touch his arm.

"I was kinda hoping I could get you to admit it last night," he grinned slightly. "At dinner. I could tell you were nervous."

You sheepishly looked down. "I was."

Harry lifted your chin with his finger. His eyes burned into yours and your stomach did a somersault again.

"I'm sorry I left last night like I did," he declared. "I was kinda nervous, too."

"You were?" you breathed.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. I know you probably think I regretted that kiss, but I didn't. Far from it, actually."

"Hmm," you sounded, biting your lip.

Harry swiped his thumb up, tugging your lip free from your teeth. Then slowly tilting his head, he lowered his mouth to yours. You lifted your hands to his neck, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair. The kiss deepened, making you weak in the knees. Harry's other hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him. When he finally released you, you were both breathing heavily, his forehead rested against yours.

"I think I'm falling for you, Y/N," he confessed.

You half cried, half giggled as your hands slid down his shoulders and pressed against his chest. You felt your eyes well up with tears again, only this time they were happy tears.

"What's the matter, love?" Harry inquired, wiping away two stray tears with his thumbs.

You gazed into his eyes once again, your chest falling as you let out a breath.

"I've been wanting to hear you say that for so long," you conveyed.

"Baby..." Harry whispered, his nose nudging yours before pulling you in for another passionate kiss.

This gave me the feels as I read this again. Sometimes I just really enjoy some sweet fluff and declarations of love.

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[teencopandthesourwolf]

yeah so my brother was over tonight and after we'd had a heart-to-heart and a gossip i stuck TEEN WOLF on—which he is aware of and knows it's one of my shows, but has never actually watched himself—just for a bit of background bc it was there in my 'continue watching' as i'm never really not watching it lol.

ANYWAYS we continued chattering through it for a while (the majority of eps 1&2) but then he started sporadically paying it more and more attention, till he was eventually commenting and asking me questions etc.

here are some of the veritable golden nuggets he dropped:

“well, that coach fella's my new bestie.”

“the hammy lad with the face (jackson) is giving me such biff from back to the future vibes.”

“why is clark kent (he knows hoech from superman & lois) being an autistic male model with serious pmt?”

(still taking about hoec) “oh, bloody hell, he's actually really good looking, isn't he?!”

"the sfx in this are so fuckin bad they actually double back to being terrific.”

“so, are we, like, supposed to not give a shit about the main guy then, or what?”

(more scott talk) “although i do actually kind of want to hug him—but i feel that's somehow unrelated to his character.”

“pretending to do back flips off a roof is cool af i don't care what anybody says.”

(about k*te argent) “hoho, she's gonna turn out to be a massive cunt, isn't she?”

“this is fucking brilliant, they (the wolf transformations) look like were!fonzies!”

“jesus, we're like, 3 eps in and there's already what looks to be the beginnings of quite intricate character arcs? this show should honestly not be this intriguing, wtf.”

(commentary on the acting chops) “oh, wow, so the one that's playing scott is pretending to be scott... while the one playing stiles just IS stiles!”

(scene at the start of magic bullet where stiles is talking to scott about derek):

stiles: okay, sorry, no more talk about alphas or derek; especially derek—who still scares me.

my brother: yeah, that's because he quite clearly makes your willy hard, mate.

also my brother: OH, SHIT! THAT'S STEREK, RIGHT?! well, it's no fucking wonder that that's a thing.

AND HE HAS NOT EVEN MET PETER YET

so yeah my hope is now obviously that he'll go home and get obsessed and spank the entire 6 seasons in 4 days and become one of our most prolific fanfic writers.

[watermelonsugacry]

https://www.tumblr.com/finexbright/718218068573241344/absolute-penis-harry-styles-love-on-tour

How H can’t say the word ‘dick’ so he says peen peen/penis…whereas y/n says the word dick all the time…she would definitely tease him about this every time and laugh out loud whenever he says the P word!!!!😂😂😂😂

Potty Mouth

A/N: this just turned into a "yn cursing/being herself on stage for 5 minutes straight" video compilation

GENRE: 1d!yn, married!ynrry

SINCE 2010 masterlist

"Hiya, love. What's yeh name? Katrina? Katrina, your sign says my boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend." YN presses her tongue against the inside of her cheek and she squints her eyes in contemplation as the stadium full of fans let out a "oof!"

"Are yeh still with him? Yes. Ok. Huh? You don't know what to do. And you want my advice. Okay, Katrina here it is," She leans forward, resting a hand on her knee to help get her point across. "Fookin' dump his ass. And that so-called best friend of yours."

...

"Dublin! How are you lads feeling tonight--oh shit!" YN's arms flail out beside her as she almost trips over a stuffed bear that was thrown out on the catwalk. She continues her walk with a laugh, looking over her shoulder at the item in question.

"Damn, I almost ate shit for a second. Anyways..."

...

When YN sings Only Angel, she passes by a fan who holds up a sign that reads YN, let me have your man!

She gives the fan a playful curl of her lip and flips them off before she walks off laughing with a shake of her head.

...

"And I just want to say how incredibly grateful I am for everyone here tonight-"

YN's eyebrows shoot up when the crowd begins to scream out of nowhere. She takes out one of her in-ears to try to hear if she missed something. It isn't until she looks behind herself to the massive screens on stage when it finally clicks. A woman in the midst of the sea of fans shamelessly holds a sign above her head that reads MOMMY!

YN looks back to the audience again, putting a hand above her eyes to try to spot the source. Once she makes contact with the fan, she casually says, "I'm right here, baby. Did y'need something?"

...

"Yeah, I would love to do a shot with you."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, the stadium full of fans erupts in excited screams. YN crouches down at the edge of the stage and gets passed the plastic cup the fan brought.

"Huh? 'What do you mean how do we do this?'" She chuckles at the bashful girl at the barricade. "You just shoot it back, love. Is this your first time?"

The entire stadium lets out a collective 'awww' when the massive screens on stage display how the girl nods with a mix of excitement and nervousness written all over her face.

"Wha's yeh name, beautiful? Lilly? Lyla? Lyla, okay. Shot virgin, huh? Don't worry Lyla, I'm a gentle lover." YN throws her a wink and she doesn't think the fan's face can get any redder. She raises her cup, the fan following suit, "Salud!"

...

"Well, that's fookin' huge," YN says, blinking in disbelief when a fan in the crowd shows her the big 1D logo tattooed on his arm. But she's quickly leaning back with a smile tugging on her lips when the fans begin to scream out from the double meaning of her words.

"Alright, gets your mind out of the gutters. Yeh nasties!"

...

"Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to our very special guest for tonight. He's an indie artist, probably never heard of him before, very underground artist. Please give it up for my husband, Mister Harry Edward Styles!"

The stadium goes absolutely crazy, screaming at the top of their lungs before she could even finish the small introduction. Harry walks out onto the stage with a wave of his hand as he holds his microphone with the other. He gives his wife her favorite dimpled smile of his before he pulls her in for a hug.

He blows the audience a kiss before putting a hand over his heart as he mouths the words 'thank you so much' as they continue to go crazy. He even lets out a bashful laugh as they continue to scream their heads off.

"Okay. Alright, alright," YN playfully scolds. "Calm yeh fookin' tits."

...

While YN has a finger to her lips the other tries to get the crowd to settle down and be as silent as possible. Somewhere in the massive sea of fans, a girl screams out I fucking love you, YN!

"I love you, too but shut up."

...

"I just have one question, Norway." The audience can't see what the little item she picked up from the floor is, but they erupt when the concert cameras show her holding up a condom packet in the air. "Who the fook threw this? I'm a married woman, leave me alone!"

"Whot? It's for me to give to Harry?" She turns the packet around in her hand to read the back. "No, it's too small for him anyways," She says before tossing it back to the crowd.

Before she can get out another word, YN can't hold back her laughter when the fans scream out at her comment. She puts her hands on her knees as her eyes squeeze close with a scrunch of her nose. Eventually, it becomes too much for her as she drops to her knees and lies down on the stage floor holding her stomach.

...

"San Jose, I have a confession that I need to share with all of you. Literally since the show started, I've been needing to take a massive fookin' piss."

...

As soon as she finished singing her song and the lights went back to normal, YN quickly makes her way down to the side of the stage to read a fan's sign that caught her attention earlier.

"Hello! Hi. So you have a fun sign. It says Your husband called my boyfriend an 'absolute penis' the other night."

The two girls in question get displayed on the massive screens behind YN. They hold up their phones by their heads as they record the interaction.

"Well, let me just clarify a couple of things before yeh start to spread these false accusations," YN laughs, putting a hand up as she begins her little rant. She holds up her index finger, "First of all, I was at that show and my husband didn't directly call yeh boyfriend a 'penis,' okay? So calm yehself. Second of all, the only reason he even alluded to calling your man a 'penis' and didn't call him...the other word, was because our mums were there."

"Everyone, please make some noise for me mum, my mother-in-law, and Harry who they're all here tonight!" She happily points to the section at the corner of the massive pit full of fans reserved for family and friends. In the center of a team of security guards, her family can be seen happily waving back.

Anne blows kisses to her daughter-in-law, alternating her hands with each one. Penny jumps up and down, both of her arms straight up in the air as she waves her hands excitedly. And her husband sticks his fingers in the corners of his mouth as he blows out a whistle loud enough to be heard from her spot on the massive stage.

"Which brings me to me third and final point: this is my show yeh? So then I just have one simple question to ask you, lovely lady. Is yeh boyfriend being an absolute dick?" A sly smirk makes its way onto YN's lips when the crowd goes wild.

"No? Good. Well, if he ever is, let me know and I'll kick his ass meself."

.

.

.

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterfiles @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @obsesseddd @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunkown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305 @tiaamberxx

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

ways journalists have really described alex turner and miles kane:

"Wearing matching outfits, gazing into each other's eyes, talking about their instant connection… Alex and Miles' claims that they wrote the Shadow Puppets' album about 'a girl' weren't fooling anyone. Quite simply Alex and Miles are hopelessly, madly, enviably in love with each other. Please lads, just be true to yourselves, embrace your feelings, and have a massive snog - we can't bear the tension any more."    - NME

“If there’s one sexual dynamic at work tonight at the Usher Hall, it’s homoeroticism. The Last Brokeback Mountaineers are a camp pair of strutting cocks, to be sure.”  - The Wee Review

"Speaking to them together feels like interrupting a conversation that's been going on since 2005." - NME

“Looking over at his manspreading counterpart, Kane gleefully points at Turner’s exposed bulge. Not wanting to be rude, I look away.” - SPIN

“Watching them finish each others’ sentences, agonise over their answers to how well they know each other and embrace when it’s time to leave... well, you’d need a heart made of Hoosiers CDs not to find it incredibly sickly sweet.” - NME

“Alex Turner and Miles Kane turn towards each other with fond looks when we suggest they’re best friends. Like doodle in each other’s notebooks BFF status. After spending 15 minutes with them though, we’re pretty convinced they’re going to grow old together in matching tracksuits.” - Sidewalk Hustle

“Miles Kane looks like he’s gagging for a great big man-hug (and maybe more...) off his buddy. These two have spent overly long admiring themselves and each other.” -  The Wee Review

“As soon as I decide to just get started without Kane, Turner accidentally Facetimes him from his pocket, and the two erupt into a fit of giggles, our conversation veering off course for the third time in as many minutes.” - Consequence

“While Turner stares on the ground during his answers, Kane watches him like a lovestruck teenager from the side.” - Musikexpress

“Say this for Lennon and McCartney, or Plant and Page: they never had their own romantic rock ‘n’ roll portmanteau. But “Milex”—Miles Kane and Alex Turner, for the uninitiated—have just that enviable kind of bromance. The two even moved to Los Angeles in tandem a few years ago. No wonder multiple “Milex” pages have cropped up on Tumblr, breathlessly re-posting the duo’s every embrace and droll quip; there is fan fiction, too, the kind that would make a coal miner blush.” - Interview Magazine

'"Alex Turner is like a princess in need of his prince Miles's assistance to get down from a tower." - Dutch Review

"You'd be forgiven for barely noticing anything beyond the front of the stage, though. Like a pair of teenagers egging each other on, Turner and Kane are the most infatuated frontmen since the Pete Doherty and Carl Barat." - Hot Press

"If Miles Kane had a 'hard on' for being a front-man before The Last Shadow Puppets, he's grabbed the opportunity Turner's patronage presented him with both hands. So to speak." - Q Magazine

"The feeling is contagious too, as though we're looking in on star-crossed lovers finally reunited." - Hot Press

[darkstrawberrytimetravel]

Why don't you just give in? Pt.2

Fem reader

Pt.1

You

He's looking skinny, or as skinny as a man who's resembled a brick shithouse for the last two decades can be, less toned I suppose more lean. I watch as he turns away, the t-shirt he's wearing allowing for more creases, bagginess. He's forgone his mask, not that he needs it. He needs a shave instead, he almost resembles his Captain with that growth. His dirty blonde hair now sun bleached in parts and his tan somewhat deeper.

You know you want to run your fingers through it, feel the short hairs against the pads of your fingers as your hand moves against the grain. The last time you did that his hands were- My thoughts are both rudely and thankfully interrupted.

“Ohhh blimey you see the lads? Who's that with the scraggly face? The tall one?” I hear Laura beside me. Instantly the table I'm seated at falls into hushed gossip, as they always do when they see the task force. The SAS lads are a common sight around here, but the more specialist unit within it still garners mystique, enthusiastic and borderline obsessive gossip whenever they grace us with their presence.

“Ghost… you really don't recognise him without that rag on his face?” I murmur as I look down and bring my mug of coffee to my lips. Ghost... I still hate that callsign. Nickname. The lore. I mean I know how fucking vicious and brutal he can be. It's not learnt or adaptive behaviour since joining the military. As usual the table descends into the usual gossip, the girls wanting to follow them to the pub they'll inevitably end up at later on. Such is the routine when they land back on home turf, especially since they've clearly been gone a while. Eat, drink, fuck, repeat.

I zone out, leaving the others to continue their usual shite when they talk about the lads. Finishing up, I stand with my tray and head to the tray return carts, Laura shouts and tells me I will be joining them tonight and that it's final. Fuckin’ a! Wherever the lads will be, so will we, the sodding groupies they are. Though it won't take much to be out the way, they're only headed to a pub. No need to dress to impress.

Walking away from my table I steel myself, walking past Riley and his lot. I resist the urge to gob in his food, as usual. I would have done it years ago, but I've risen above that version of myself. I do however afford a quick glance down and I'm met with ochre orbs, his ochre eyes. This time I yield and look away, not wanting to walk into someone with a tray full leftover dinner.

Later I find myself freshly showered, the weather keeps flip-flopping so I decide on shorts with a tank and a hoodie with my favourite trainers. It's still warm and humid enough to warrant the summer gear, but as August stretches through to September there's a chill in the air. I look at myself in the mirror, my hair tousled and low key smokey eyes. I almost feel like I should scrub the makeup off, I'm in my mid thirties, why am I dressing like I'm fifteen years younger.

We all bundle in the taxi for fifteen minutes it takes for us to get to the town centre in Hereford. I listen as the others plan and scheme where the lads are, I give the usual non committal noises they'd expect but eventually I put my proverbial foot down. “Look, I don't want to spend all night with you lot drooling over them. We'll get pre-drinks at The Queen's Arms, some of you will get a quickie I'm sure, and then we should go somewhere better to spend our time.”

I'm met with eye rolls and smirks, it's no secret I'm not enthralled by the lads on the task force, and even under duress when plied with copious drinks I've still not spilt the beans. Finally the taxi pulls over and we hop out, the fare being prepaid since it was a group booking. I stay behind to organise a return journey later before following the girls into the pub. We're met with a wall of sound, almost raucous, as we filter in and find a table. I see Riley actually enjoying himself around the pool table for once.

Pt.3

[gayskogul]

Another Saturday

I pulled the short straw again. That was three weeks in a row now that I'd worn the scarf. I brayed about it, but didn't mind, really. You got an extra finger of booze every now and then for the trouble, and the jigs were easier to do backwards.

These dances were good, all said. It beat the alternative, sitting around freezing with nothing but our thoughts for company—and God knew no one wanted that. Being so far out from town for so long, one's own thoughts could take on a cruel voice. Almost as cruel as the keening of the wind as it raked away at our cabins with icy claws.

We used the mess for the dances, seeing as it had the most space. The room was overly warm from a bunch of oil lamps, set upon the floor. They cast long shadows that nipped at the heels of the dancers and twisted about in time with their steps. Pipe-smoke hung in the air, which didn't help. It had a way of making one's head fuzzy. I'd loosened my shirt a few buttons, like most of the others. Sweat pooled in the exposed hollows above our collarbones, and in the light it glistened like strings of pearls.

One of the younger lads from down south had pulled out a fiddle. He sawed away at it with his bow, striking up a number of merry tunes. Another man, with iron starting to thread at his temples, kept the beat with a battered drum. Old Morgan swayed atop a crate and played his concertina. Occasionally, someone would join them and sing a verse or two, but being heard over the laughter and stomping of boots upon wood was harder done than said. There was no tin whistle tonight. We'd lost him to the cave-in.

I drank my spirits and danced with the other men. It had taken a while getting used to, indulging in such silliness. But with the strong drink and the feverish mood charging these impromptu fetes, nobody paid that any mind. It wasn't so bad, dancing with them. There were a few of us who played the woman at these affairs, so one never felt too exposed. Besides, with a strong frame and good arms from all the mining and hauling, one could feel quite secure with another man doing the leading. I was led by Garrick, spun by Leopold, knocked knees with Ernest. Fritz dripped with sweat after he dipped me, and I laughed and dabbed at his brow with a handkerchief after the tune ended. One-eyed Dominic grinned and pinged the strap of my suspenders on my shoulder after our jig together. It stung like anything, but gave us one hell of a laugh.

It was when I'd gone to pour another slug of whisky into my cup when you came up to me. You tapped my shoulder once. I'd been wondering if you'd do it for a while, now.

"Next one's mine?" you said, fiddling with the brim of your hat.

"If I must," I said, rolling my eyes and plucking at the scarf, because it was easier to pretend.

You flinched and began to stutter an apology. But the tune had started up, so I pulled you by your shirtsleeve and yelled, "Come on!"

Within the crowd of dancers you looked more than a little bewildered, but you moved well enough. The booze did most of the work. You were taller by about a hand, but were awful wiry. You hadn't been here as long, so there was none of the miner's stout muscle built up on you yet. We shared two more drinks, grimacing at each other through the liquor's harsh burn. By the time we'd gotten to the fifth tune without stopping, a curl of hair, darkened and damp, flicked forwards onto your brow. There was a deep rosiness daubed high across your cheeks. From the heat, I'd guessed. When the music slowed to a ballad you nodded to the door.

I was more than happy, naturally. I'd been tossed between the men for a few hours now, with barely a break between dances. Freezing or not, my head was starting to fog over with a thickness that only fresh air would cure. I threw on one of the furs and stepped out onto the deck. The wooden boards were slippy with ice.

You came out a minute later, carrying two full tin cups. I grunted my thanks.

There was a fleeting lick of amber up your side from the lamplight inside before the door clicked shut behind you.

We leant over the deck balcony and stared out into the treeline. The tops caught the moonlight and lit up like silver feathers.

"Got a light?" you asked, a straight dangling from your lip.

I did, of course. I lit my own, then tilted my chin up. You hunched over and raised a hand to shelter the gap between us from the wind. Your fingers were quite fine, considering our line of work. The tips of them were hot when they brushed against my cheek. You smelled like pine and soap and smoke, and I could taste the fire of the whisky on your breath.

My skin prickled. I puffed a couple of times until your straight was lit, then pulled away and drew my coat tighter around myself. Damn cold.

You hadn't bothered with a coat. The whisky was enough, I thought, until you shivered a little.

"You warm enough?" I asked.

"Plenty," you said.

You didn't say much. You never did. At least, not with words. Your eyes always did the talking. And with barely a foot of night between us, they had much to say tonight.

The drink made my head spin. I'd had enough that stringing together a sentence was getting to be a task, so I decided to try your way of talking. The windows to the cabin were covered with thick curtains and furs to block out the draughts, and with the moon as the only witness I figured it safe enough to risk a longer look than I might've done inside.

You'd shaved today. I saw the hazy shadow coming back in under your jaw already. I was glad that you'd left the moustache. I thought it was funny how you'd cleaned up for the party tonight. How you'd worn a nice, clean cream shirt tonight, with no stains from the soot. How you'd wanted to look your best for a group of tired and lonely men. How you'd danced with none of them, besides me.

Snow had started to fall again. Soft and downy, hanging thick in the air, it made a blanket of sorts to cushion us from the raucous sounds inside.

"It's been grand tonight," you said. "A right bacchanal."

You'd called it a bacchanal before. Not a dance, like the rest of us. None of us had known the word. With your fair hair and delicate features and fine accent, I'd always wondered that you seemed out of place. I wondered what had brought you here. Maybe it was why you didn't speak.

"You dance well," I said. It was a lie, but the upwards curl of your lip around the straight was worth a little staining of the soul.

You didn't reply. I saw what you wanted to say.

I wanted you to say it, too. But I didn't dig. I watched you ash out your straight upon the bannister that we were leant against, and stride back towards the door. Fingers on the handle, latch half depressed by your thumb, you turned back to give me another one of those long looks of yours. I think I knew what you'd said with it. You smiled and headed back in.

For a while, I stood there under the moon. With my big coat, my cup of whisky and another fresh smoke, the night barely touched me. I thought about you and let out an amused huff. Silver smoke curled around my hand and flitted off upwards. You were right, of course. The dance had been grand. With a bit of luck, I thought, it'd be better next week. Maybe you'd get the scarf. I'd ask you to dance, and not let you go, that time. I ground the straight out next to where you'd done the same.

There was always another Saturday.

[lolahasmoxie]

Snowed In (J.T.)

It's finally "winter" in Arizona. I also took an edible and feel very much in need of cuddles. Enjoy, my loves!

"Yeah, no, mate. Don't sweat; we'll see you once this snow clears up." Alright, cheers then."

You watch from the sofa as Jamie ends his call with Isaac. There was supposed to be a party at Ola's, but a winter snowstorm was keeping most of London indoors tonight.

"You are so lucky that wasn't a Facetime call," you reply with a chuckle.

"What? I was looking forward to seeing the lads."

"Oh yeah, you look real torn up about it." Jaime was dressed in his slouchiest pajama pants, hair free of any type of product, and he had on a pair of eye gel patches stolen from you

"I am upset about the snow, but I can't help it if I'd rather hang out here with you."

"You are so whipped," you coo as Jaime approaches you. "What would the boys say if they could see you now?"

Jaime plopped on the sofa and laid his body over yours. This was Jamie's favorite position to cuddle, lying prone on you while you played with his hair. When he laid his head on your chest, you couldn't help but chuckle.

"They would all be fucking jealous that I have the prettiest girl in London, and I get to call her mine."

You smile at Jamie's words and quietly reach for the quilt on the back of his couch, covering the two of you as you decide on a movie to watch.

Jamie wrapped an arm around you, the sound of your heart in his ear helping to ground him. He had wondered many times in his youth if he would ever have this. If he would ever be good enough for someone to stick around. To love him as he truly was. Then you showed up at AFC Richmond, and he was done for.

"You're not falling asleep on me already, are you?"

Your voice is soft, only slightly teasing. He can't help but grin as he holds you tighter.

"Nah, I'm good. Why don't we catch up on our show, yeah?"

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

When Isaac texts you an hour later to see how you and Jamie are holding up, you respond with a picture.

Jamie passed out cold on top of you, your hand in his hair and a coy smile on your face.

It's xeroxed and plastered EVERYWHERE at Richmond the following Monday.

[nana-71926]

Author's Notes: Heyyy~~!! Here is the new vampire fic, as promised, and in time for Halloween! I'm having a moment with Interview with the Vampire (TV series 2022) and thought we might play around with the lads as vampire rock stars ala Lestat. XD Let's see where this will lead us. Wish the Muse luck and comments are greatly appreciated as always! Enjoy!

Excerpt:

“Whatever happens, don’t forget we’ve got a wager going on regarding those two,” said Deacy, refusing to be deterred. “I did register my disapproval for this match from the very start, I hope you remember. It doesn’t get more star-crossed than this, and with no offense to Brian. It’s all Roger’s doing.”

“Well, it has been building yet again between them these last three, four years, hasn’t it?” said Freddie as they watched Brian moving around the room like a shark underwater, brows knitted but still gamely trying for conversation with whoever happened to be in his way as he went about looking for their drummer. “But as to whether they will finally come to blows and break up permanently— it’s too early to say. After all, their last break up was just after the war and they didn’t speak for almost two decades. They still have not caught up with each other entirely, you know.”

“Our initial wager,” said Deacy, “is as to whether Roger might finally come to regret turning Brian all those years ago. I have a feeling he might, after tonight.”

“I shall reinforce my stand and say they won’t, then,” said Freddie confidently. "Come, love. Our guests await. Let’s not be seen in a corner, whispering to each other the whole night long. We’ll take a turn about the room and see if we can catch the two gits at it at one point or other.”

Buy the Muse some ko-fi to show her some love (and to make her write faster!) ^_~

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Win

Words: 809

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

The ten-year Hogwarts reunion had been an interesting evening so far. While a lot, maybe even most, of their classmates were married, many with kids, neither Sirius nor Remus had settled down. In fact, they were still sharing the house just outside Hogsmeade that Sirius had bought with his inheritance from his uncle. James, Lily and Pete had also lived there at various times over the last decade, but it had just been the two of them for over six years now.

While doing the rounds at the reunion, Sirius found himself fielding questions about Remus, in the same way that he was sure James was fielding questions about Lily, and Pete about Mary. By the time he went back to sit with Remus at their table, he was amused.

"I'll bet you twenty quid that someone is going to just outright ask us if we're dating by the end of the night." He said, causing Remus to choke on his wine. He rubbed Remus’ back until he could breathe again and then realised this was probably the kind of thing that made people think they were dating.

"No chance. I'll never win that bet.” Remus spluttered. “They’re not exactly subtle.”

“Fine then, we bet on who will come over and ask us outright. Whoever loses has to buy dinner tonight." They’d made plans to floo into Edinburgh, have a late dinner at the Pompadour and stay overnight so they could both have a drink.

“Ah yes, dinner. That’s a prime example of why we're not beating the dating allegations." Remus’ eyes sparkled dangerously.

"Are you taking the bet or not?” Sirius huffed. “My money’s on Emmeline. She’s going to come over and say ‘I say, lads, did you finally get yourselves together?’” He imitated Emmeline’s high-pitched, posh voice.

"Well, if she does I'm going to kiss you on the mouth and then tell her never in a million years.” Sirius blinked at him, surprised. “My money’s on…” He scanned the room, “Edgar. He always had a thing for you.”

“He did?” Sirius followed Remus’ gaze. “Those jeans are really working for him, to be fair.”

“And what if someone else comes and asks, or nobody asks?” Remus leaned his head on his hand and looked at Sirius, he already regretted the last glass of wine.

“Oh, somebody’s bound to ask.” Sirius grinned. “I’ve just had half an hour of ‘How’s Remus?’, ‘Remus is looking well’, ‘You and Remus look so happy’.”

“Well, that's… nice?” He mumbled. “Oh, shit. Edgar and Emmeline are on their way over.”

“It’s going to be a photo finish.” Sirius ruffled Remus’ curls affectionately before turning to smile at their approaching friends. At the last moment, Emmeline caught sight of Mary Macdonald and changed direction. Sirius frowned.

“Remus!” Edgar grinned, sitting down opposite him, “Long time no see!”

“Must be a decade.” Remus smiled at him, and there was something in his eyes that made Sirius suddenly feel like he was intruding. Interesting. “How’s things?”

“Oh, can’t complain. Been working for the Department of Mysteries for a while now.”

“Sounds interesting.” Remus nodded.

“What about you?” Edgar asked politely.

“You’re looking at the longest-serving Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for decades, Bones.” Sirius butted in as Remus shrugged humbly.

“Oh, incredible!” Edgar said to Remus, pointedly ignoring Sirius. “You always were an amazing tutor, I bet the kids love you.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but it’s very rewarding.” Remus looked over at Sirius. “Not as rewarding as being a healer, but…”

“No, it’s every bit as rewarding,” Sirius said. “You don’t even have to clean up sick, so maybe more rewarding.”

“So you two are finally together, then?" Edgar asked, somewhat dejectedly.

"Please, he couldn't tie me down even if he tried,” Remus said, not looking back at Edgar. The corners of his mouth twitched as Sirius gasped dramatically. “No, we just live together. Bachelor pad.”

Edgar seemed to perk up slightly at this but still didn’t look convinced. “Ah, right, sorry for assuming, Re. Look, if you fancy going for a drink one night, here’s my number.” He produced a ministry business card and slid it across the table to Remus.

“Thank you,” Remus smiled at him mildly. “That would be nice. I’ll be in touch.” Edgar nodded as he stood up and looked around, before heading towards Emmeline and Mary.

“You think I couldn’t tie you down?” Sirius murmured in Remus’ ear, sending a shiver up his spine. “Challenge accepted.”

Remus leant back to look at Sirius. His eyes were mostly pupil, with a slither of grey around them, a blush sat on his aristocratic cheekbones and his jaw was set. Eyes never leaving Sirius’, his voice was low, “Alright then, since you’re buying dinner anyway. Do your worst. Give me the full Sirius Black date experience. Prove me wrong.”

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

[Notes:

At some point during dinner:

"Wait, I thought you said that Edgar had always been into me," said Sirius.

"Oh, did I say that he was into you?" Remus smirked, "I meant me."

And Sirius is like damn he played me, and I'm not even mad.]