#you know i dont think i can go back to NOT knowing how chiseled he is

[ratatatastic]

"thank you so much! lets hear it for my d-partner, gus forsling! woo!" *goose chants* "ekky you gotta get your cone" "WOO!" "classic classic"

how much chaos can you instil into a single 45 second clip

the hug and the way ekky slides his hands across his shoulderblades and followsthrough until his upper arm like he needs to soak in every single second of contact or that he shakes his shoulders and decides no i need more let me grab his wrist i NEED TO GRAB HIS WRIST i need to feel all full points of contact

also lol at goose trying to keep his modesty by adjusting the swedish flag to cover his nips oh honey we've seen it all already

ekky seemingly wanting to get one more extra pat in but forsy is already moving away so it just kinda dies midway through (sumn sumn million regrets sumn) ladies and gentlemen we've walked into a drama with the awkward boy next door whos the second male lead and more endearing than the actual main lead

and like an adonis himself the flag barely clings onto one shoulder and becomes more akin to a tunic wrap not unlike the exomis yeah

also ekky too enraptured in his publicly loving forsy activities and clapping that forsy has to point out to him to get his cone before it presumably becomes a tripping hazard before goldie does lmaoooo

he said okay alright shows OVER back to regularly scheduled programming thats enough school of harlotry for him thank you very much

Panthers Championship Parade | 6.30.24 (x)

[sports-on-sundays]

hello! i have a request for marc guiu where marc and reader have been best friends for a long time now and marc gets together with some girl but reader realises that the girl is just in it for the money and the clout and tries telling marc that but he thinks that she's jealous so he kind of distances her and their friendship is at strain (angst). in the end all is resolved and maybe marc and reader realise their feelings for each other? its completely fine if you dont wanna do it. thank you so much!!!

not right for you / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x best friend!female!reader

Warnings: heights, crying, censored cursing, being used in a relationship (not reader)

Requested?: Yes, thank you.

You stare at the girl in judgment, taking her in. This girlfriend of Marc's, that he's been talking about a lot, excessively, for a few weeks now, finally stands before you. She has long, soft brown hair, falling down her back, perfectly done makeup, a chiseled face, long legs, a skinny frame, and, well, she's gorgeous.

Just being in her presence makes you feel insecure.

Marc has his hand practically glued to the small of her back as she shows you her million dollar perfect smile.

"I've heard lots about you," you say slowly. You really did mean it to sound friendly, but do have to admit that you sound more like a cowboy from a Western movie trying to pick a fight in some shady saloon.

Marc smiles and says, "I never stop talking about you, Olivia."

She giggles at this, and holds her hand out to shake yours. You nod and shake it, still not so sure about this girl.

You try to remind yourself to give her a chance and not just go by your initial gut feeling- but it's hard. It's hard not to read this book by her cover.

Simply because it seems she's putting a lot of effort into her cover- too much effort. Too much effort for it to not reflect her inner personality.

But! You mustn't make such judgments until you really know her, you remind yourself. Despite how hard it is not to.

Well, you thought maybe you would get all buddy-buddy with her to try and see if you can figure her out, but luckily, it looks like that won't be necessary. She's not the type of girl you think you would get alone with much, anyway.

Because Marc won't, shut, up, about, her.

"She's so sweet," he's going on now, "And, like, honestly, adorable." To you, she didn't look very adorable, and rather just super conventionally attractive. But not interesting or unique in anyway. Of course, you don't say this, as he continues with a boyish giggle, "The other day, she wanted to buy this watch and these earrings. So f*cking adorable the way she looked at me with her big puppy dog eyes. I couldn't resist her."

You nod slowly, taking this all in, and say sarcastically, "Sounds just adorable."

Marc doesn't seem to pick up on it. "And then, get this-" he says as he blushes more.

"Hmmm...?" you ask, unimpressed.

And then he goes on about how sweet she was to him. Showering him with compliments and saying he's the best boyfriend ever and blah, blah, blah.

This isn't the only time you've heard things about this girl. Always hungry for the camera type, won't take no for an answer type, pulls being stubborn off as being cute type, whines to her boyfriend until he says 'yes' type. Type you don't like, and the type you reckon isn't the best for Marc, either.

He talks about how happy he is to be able to make her happy and comfortable, since he's playing professional football now, but you've figured out that this girl is clearly just getting money and attention from him for her own good, and probably doesn't really care about him as a person. Not to mention, dating Marc Guiu- though he's certainly not the most well known footballer- makes you famous on some level, for sure.

Finally Marc seems to snap, "Why don't you like Olivia, anyway?"

You frown, hesitating, before saying, "Do you really want me to answer honestly?"

"Of course I do!"

"Well, alright. I'm concerned for you, because to me, it seems clear this girl only wants you for the money, clout, and attention, and doesn't really care about you as a person. I care about you as a person, so therefore, I want you to see you in a relationship with someone who does, too. I mean, you give her things all the time- what has she ever done for you?"

Marc doesn't seem very happy with this proclamation from you, understandably enough. "I don't know! Kisses me."

You snort ruefully at the dumb answer. "Ah, yes. Of course she does. She's got to keep you interested somehow, otherwise she'll lose all the money coming into her bank account. So she knows all she's got to do is keep you romantically, and possibly even sexually, pleased, and she won't stop getting what she wants. And it's easy for her to use you, because you're falling for her gorgeous looks and letting her. She's using you, clearly. I mean, it's clear to me."

"No, she's not," Marc snaps in annoyance, suddenly standing up. "You're just jealous."

"Jealous? Of what?"

"I don't know! Of her being pretty? Of her being my girlfriend?" He scoffs and walks to the door. "I'm leaving now."

You watch as the door shuts behind him.

So that means Marc doesn't think I'm pretty?

Of course he doesn't, Y/n. He has a girlfriend who's drop-dead beautiful.

And why would he think you'd be jealous of her being his girlfriend?

You don't want to be his girlfriend- at least you don't think so.

It makes you mad to think he would immediately assume your words came from a place of selfishness. They didn't. They're from a place of concern, for your best friend.

For your best friend, who now is avoiding you like the plague.

You haven't seen Marc in two months. You haven't heard him, either. You've only exchanged a few dry text conversations that really did nothing.

You stand up on the rooftop of your apartment building, staring out and down at the sparkling cities lights. Up here, fog has set in, and you feel a chill go through your body. You tighten your jacket around yourself, breathing in the scent of it.

You feel guilty for wearing this coat, though you don't know why.

It's actually Marc's. About a year ago, he left it at your house, and it became yours. When he saw you wearing it, his eyes had lightened up, so though he didn't say anything about it, you know he knew it was his.

And you know it's kind of gross, but you never washed it. You don't wear it often, and frankly, you love the smell of it. It reminds you of him.

And right now, you need to be reminded of him, since you haven't seen him in way too long.

You walk to the ledge and climb up on the barrier, sitting on the flat top of it, letting your legs dangle over.

You feel a little rush travel through your veins at this risky position, before your body calms itself again, and the melancholy feeling returns.

"No one can hear me up here," you say into the air.

"I could say whatever I want, and it wouldn't matter. It could all just get caught in this thick fog and float away. I could forget about it, and pretend it never happened, because no one else is here to hear it."

You let out a shaky breath.

"Marc, I could tell you everything. I could say whatever I want up here, and you wouldn't even know it. It wouldn't matter."

For some reason, at this, your voice cracks a little.

You say softer, "It wouldn't matter, would it?"

You breathe deeply gasping a bit down at the Barcelona street dozens of feet below you.

"Even if I screamed, no one would hear me!" you say, your voice raising.

And you do scream: "Marc! I'll bet my life I care about you more than she does! My life!"

You stare apologetically down.

I guess I'm in he perfect spot to lose that bet.

You feel hot tears threaten at your eyes as you continue, softer, "I want you to be happy.

"You're not happy with her.

"I bet you could be happy with me, Marc."

You sniff, not even sure what you're saying. You've never said things like this before.

But now, alone, knowing nothing you say really matters? It's easier to say things you never really knew you even thought.

"She's not good for you," you practically whine, rubbing at your eyes, getting warm salty liquid all down the back of your hand.

"You're my best friend," you whimper. "And now you're leaving me alone for some faker you just met a few months ago!

"I've known you for years!"

You scream, choking up a little, "Does that mean nothing to you?"

Not even your echo answers you.

You watch as a tear fall off your cheek, and down.

And down and down.

And at some point, it hits the street below.

The thought is surreal, and makes you feel a bit dizzy, even. You clutch the side of the ledge tighter.

Your knuckles are white as you call into the night, your tone lined with tears, "What if I told you I loved you? Would you even care?"

Your head spins. "Would you?"

You shut your eyes and let out a sob, feeling the lights and cars move below you, feeling alone, and separated from the world. Isolated.

But most of all, just very, very confused.

You thought you would be happy to see Marc again. But when you open your door to see him standing there, looking like a wreck, you're not happy.

Not one bit.

"What happened?" you ask as you view the boy with his red, puffy eyes and messy hair.

"Can I come in?"

You sigh, opening the door for him, but comment rudely, "So you only show up at my house, after ignoring me, basically, for two months, because something happened, and you need help?"

"Please, Y/n. That's not the only reason," he sighs, sitting down on your couch with you. You cross your arms, staring at him.

"Then, what?"

"I'm sorry. I realize you were right, now. All along. I was stupid."

"So she broke up with you, huh?"

"I broke up with her."

Your eyebrows shoot up. "What finally knocked you out of your delusions?"

He shrugs. "Your words never stopped bugging me, in the back of my head. Then she started pushing me for more. More, more, more. More money, more attention, more... well, things I wasn't comfortable with so early in our relationship."

You nod slowly. "Right..."

"So, I realized you were right. She's-" his voice breaks. "She's so f*cking greedy."

You lick your lips, still nodding, staring down at the floor.

"But I feel like it was wrong. She begged me to stay... she said she thought I loved her... But I've got to love myself, too, and she was draining me dry. Taking my- my everything."

You nod, finally softening. You put your arm around his back as he stares ahead. A single tear falls slowly down his cheek, before he hastily wipes it away with another sigh. "You did the right thing, Marc. You should have listened from the beginning, but I'm happy you realized it."

"What if I broke her heart, though?"

"That's her fault for getting into a relationship just to use someone! And besides," you add bitterly, "those were probably just crocodile tears."

"You... you think?"

You snort. "I know, Marc."

He hesitates, before saying, turning to look you in your eyes, "I'm sorry... for distancing myself from my best friend like that. I thought you were jealous. I should have taken you for your word."

You swallow back a lump in your throat. You put your hand on his and murmur, "It's okay... I forgive you."

"You- You do?"

You blink in surprise. "Of course I do, Marc. That's what friends are for. Friends will always be there, even when you walk away."

And then your breath hitches when suddenly, he pulls you into a tight hug, half pulling you onto his lap. His hand gently rubs your lower back, which gives you butterflies, and you're extremely aware of every point in which your bodies are touching. "Thank you so much, Y/n," he breathes.

You bury your head in his shoulder, murmuring, "You're welcome. I'm just glad to have my Marc back."

"Your Marc?" he grins, leaning back to meet your eyes. His deep, light brown, gentle eyes. "I like the sound of that. You know, being called yours."

You blush at that. "Only if I can be called yours, too."

He grins and mutters, "You'll always be my best friend first, Y/n. I know I just ended a relationship... but..."

"Oh, God," you squeak, eyes widening. "Are you-"

"I mean, if you-"

"Yeah, I could-"

"Good," he grins, pulling you back into the tight hug. You can feel his heart beating quickly against your chest. He leans his head against your shoulder and gives your neck a little kiss.

"So, you-" you breathe, "you love me- me back?"

His mouth smiles against your neck. "Yeah. I think I've known you long enough to say I love you."

You grin and trace the words into his back.

I love you.

"I'm glad you came around, Marc."

"I'm glad I came around, too, Y/n."

[sweet-as-an-angel]

I know you must be busy and have a lot of work to do, so dont feel pressured to respond !! 😊

Anyways, i have Dominic💓 brainrot 😫‼️‼️💔💔, and was wondering what hed think of a reader that has been raised in a lower/working-class household all of their life ?

Here we have a person that's not has had even a *taste* of luxury, their clothes being second-hand, thrifting becoming their past-time, and, havung had parents living paycheck-to-paycheck, would feel guilty for ever asking tjem for anything, and had starting working for Dominic because they were desperate to pay them back for all the sacrifices they msde for them in their childhood :((

And here we have Dominic, a successful, wealthy business man, secretly raising their wages, and the whole time reader feels sheepish and at times even *embarrassed*, overwhelmed by so much money ??

Especially whrn he slides in a thick envelope with a generous stack of cash into their back pocket with a charming wink, or buys them sometjing that they had mentioned wanting in a passing conversation as they had been sadly stating how they coupd never afford it, and Dominic saying that its absolutely—

—"Not a problem in the slightest, mon chéri. Why wouldn't I want to reward my favourite babysitter for their hard work?"— **oozing** charisma and smiling his dazzling, award-winning smile, and insisting that—

—"You shouldn't be fussing over trifles such as money. Hard work pays off, and you have been working very hard indeed." ... @@"" ",

Anon, you've hit the nail on the head with this one 🤭. Thank you so much for writing in and enjoying my Dominic content, it means the world to me <3 !

TW: Dominic, Manipulative Mentions of Weight Loss, Implied Smut, Dominic Being a Creep

♡ But yes, absolutely, Dominic would use his financial position as a means of dominance over you. Subtly, of course, so that you don't know he's being...unabashed his efforts to woo you. But prevalent enough that you still feel indebted - grateful - to him for all that he's done.

♡ The longer you know each other, the more personal - intimate - the gifts he gets you become. Speaking on that, he makes a habit to inadvertently reward behaviours he desires in you, such as cutting off friends, dumping your boyfriend, spending more time around him, etc.

♡ At first, the gifts are general - vague - and inconspicuous; they belie the true extent to which Dominic has memorised your tastes. Something like a low-price jumper he knows is your general style, something to keep you warm in winter. He'll give you a smile. "Can't have our favourite babysitter freezing up now, can we."

♡ Then, it'll be a pair of boots to go with the jumper - "So you won't have any difficulty getting to and from our house."

♡ It doesn't matter that you live right next door to each other. Dominic doesn't want you taking any chances.

♡ He'll use his assertiveness to trick you into believing you've "Gotten a little thinner these days. Are you eating properly?"

♡ He'll feign concern as he comes close to you, lifting your arms, apologising and faking a vague bashfulness as he apologises for overstepping. "French hospitality, I suppose," he says, averting his eyes for no longer than a second.

♡ And of course, you believe him. Of course, you don't see a problem with his behaviour, especially when he seems so concerned for your wellbeing.

♡ He won't let that lie, by the way. He'll keep telling you how you seem to keep dropping a size every time you see him. Eventually, he'll insist on taking you out to dinner.

♡ When you inevitably try to refuse his kindness, he'll whip out old reliable. "It was supposed to be Marilyn and I's dinner date, but she's..." he glances down the hall. Gives his brow a light yet chiselled furrow. He wonders if you can hear the fizz of the sedative in Marilyn's drink as he can, the sound fresh in his ears.

♡ "Sick, unfortunately."

♡ So now, obviously, Dominic is faced with a dilemma. But you have the solution.

♡ He asks you to accompany him — “I’ll pay for you, of course,” — to take Marilyn’s place.

♡ You resist at first. Tell him that you couldn’t possibly do that. But Dominic is the father of manipulation, and he’s nursed many a lie, watched the become their own adulterous identities, and knows exactly how to get you to go.

♡ “Please, you deserve a break. And besides, I don’t want to be seen eating all the lobster on my lonesome.”

♡ You succumb to his efforts. He tells you to get ready for your dinner date. You tell him you have nothing worthy of wearing.

♡ He knows this.

♡ He smiles. Brings you to a room that is filled to the brim in outfits he says that “Marilyn and I rarely use. Something here will be your size, I'm sure.”

♡ He’s made sure there is. He’s bought half a dozen suits and dresses in just your size — and a little over or under depending on how tightly he wants to see the fabric squeeze you — for this exact occasion. Of which he expects there to be multiple.

♡ He resists the temptation of watching you undress. Of seeing you so bare in his house.

♡ He settles for whatever little flashes of skin your outfit affords. All of which were bought with the sole intention of giving Dominic enough to work with for his midnight musings.

♡ This is not the last time Dominic will treat you to dinner, the last time he watches your eyes bulge out of your skull as you see the amount the bill comes down to — a luxury Dominic lets you see to really instill that sense of indebtedness.

♡ And each time, he tries to get you further and further over the threshold of his house. His room.

♡ When you get undressed and back into your ordinary clothes, Dominic tells you he’ll keep the outfit and wash it.

♡ You don’t know it’s yours yet.

♡ He doesn’t wash it. He all but bathed in the scent of you, mouthing the places your warmest, most intimate sorts would have been pressed against. He imagines you there, vividly.

♡ He wonders how much you’d be willing to bend to the will of his wealth. How much he can make you do until you’re entrenched in his affections, toffee-sweet and with all its viscosity.

Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

[sanjisblackasswife]

“ℝ𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘”

𝚉𝚘𝚛𝚘 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Black Fem Reader

Zoro Giving Body Worship Here

CW: Soft! Zoro, Zoro is a bit resistant, Sensual Massage Kissing, Oral, Praise, Talks of Zoro having an Insecurity

It’s not that he hates you. It’s not that he hates the attention, it’s just

When it’s Zoro’s turn to recieve the love you want to give back he isn’t sure if he should accept it.

“You don’t have—-“

“I want to…”

It’s so late in the night, his body is tired and slightly sore and all he requested was to call it in early with you to hold him, but you noticed how weak he was so you did get a little beside yourself to use it to your advantage

“Just relax please.”

Like the good boy he is he allows you, but still has his doubts.

You love his body and the scars that come with it. The love can get overwhelming to him sometimes so dont hold it against him when he retracts back to your touch.

You sit on his pelvis, both of you in the nude, you can feel his heartbeat go faster as you touch his chest, you smirk.

“I love you, Zo…”

You say it so often to him, yet he still flinches, wanting to tell you it back so badly, but he feels frozen. You know, you understand the dilemma and that’s why you peck his lips to confirm with him.

“You’re so loved…” Your hands massages his neck and his chest, you looked like an Angel. He wasn’t a religious man by any means, but he would become a believer if it meant you were the closest thing to Heaven. “And I know you know that, but it’s still nice to tell you.”

“Y/n….”

His tanned skin against your finger tips, glistening under the lamp from the oil you rubbed against him, you couldn’t help but to turn this massage naughty.

Which he knew from the way you suggested to do a simple activity naked, so he allowed it.

His hands firmly on the fat of your hips as you indulge yourself in kissing his neck, leaving pretty marks on him, surely he won’t mind. You pepper his pretty chiseled face, small huffs of laughter break from his nose feeling a little tickle from your feathered kisses.

“I love your body, Zo….so perfect.” You hold up his face for him to look at you, his cheeks as red as can be grows even redder when you softly kiss his eye scar, then down to his cheeks, back to his lips.

Zoro didn’t get choked up easily, but if he could think of a time he almost broke it would be now. His eyes slowly closing, basking in your touches and kisses, it was something he felt like he didnt deserve but loved to know he could get.

“Even with these scars I still find you so attractive.” You grab his much larger calloused hand, kissing his knuckles while staring at his low gaze before resting it on your breast. "I love every inch of you."

He smirks, caressing it giving it a light squeeze.

He knew he was an attractive man, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a bit less than worthy of being praised this much because of how he took care of himself. He didn’t mind getting dirty, getting scratches and marks. You were the opposite too, remembering how you had a meltdown just from a small bruise on your knee, which is why always treated you like glass.

“Y/N you—“

“Sh shs shhhh. This is about you.” You push him back down seeing that he was objecting to you grabbing his shaft giving it slow strokes, his spine arched a bit, feeling him grow harder in your hand you kiss his leaking tip, before taking him all in as much as you could while fondling his balls a little which always made him breathe out your name so deliciously.

Small whimpers of your name fall through Zoro's lips, cursing in his native tongue as you picked up the pace, the bitter taste of his skin and oil you still hum in delight for being able to be blessed to make a man such as him feel good.

Zoro groans in pleasure, his legs moving up and down the sheets anticipating of his first orgasm of the night, you of course don't mind, swallowing the cum that pour out and onto your tongue he reaches his hand out to you, having a sudden craving to kiss your lips again.

His strong arms holding you close you moan onto his mouth, grinding against him, there wasn't a blemish on his body you left unkissed and appreciated and your big swordsman didn't know how else to thank you.

Breaking the kiss, he holding your waist and hand and guides you down onto his tip, whimpering his name loudly it echoes in your shared room, feeling every inch slide inside you.

You try to let go of his hand, but he doesn't looking up at your beautiful brown body he kisses your tummy before allowing you to move.

It was a long yet passionate night for you both rustling against the sticky sheets. Moaning, crying, and screaming his name until the sun rose. Zoro didn't even mind you taking charge that night. It wasn't a common practice with you both but in due time he has learned that it's okay to accept the love you have for him.

[thecynthh]

confide - M.S

summery - y/n escapes to the balcony of you and matt’s room while a whole party is still buzzing under you, he finds you and lets you know that he still loves you no matter what

notes - MORE FLUFF, guys we needed more fluff, i can make a part 2 with smut in it if u whores like this one 🫶

a/n - this is me putting off smart ass 🤗

——————————————————————————

——————————————————————————

trying to escape the madness of the party happening underneath me i choose to sit on the outdoor couch on the very high balcony i sit at. i started the mini fire pit in front of me as all the supplies for it was just in a box near the door. 

the blanket that embraces me is fluffy and soft, as much as i love matt i couldn’t breath in that horrible blanket of tension his mother threw onto me. i was drilled with questions by her knowing the reason for the excessive amount. matt went through a rough break up before me, and i can’t blame her for wanting to make sure her son doesn’t go through something like that again. 

the fire crackles and pops while i just enjoy the city lights and soft jazz that plays on the upper level of the penthouse, i lay my head down on the other seat cozying up on the bamboo woven couch, the thick padding cradle me as i feel myself being lulled to sleep. 

not long after i fall asleep im woken up by the sound of the sliding door behind me, a shadowy figure walks to the side of the couch, it was matt. 

“hi sweetheart, did you get tired?” matt says, folding over to get closer to my face, the glow of the fireplace reflects every chiselled feature in his face.  i give him a soft nod while he peels his suit jacket off resting it on the chair that is also stationed towards the fire.

“hey move your head up,” i do as i’m told and he slides into the seat on the couch my head was recently covering up, he lays my head back onto his muscular thigh letting me use him as a pillow. 

“im sorry, i was so overwhelmed by your mom,” i say shameful of when i tripped over my words and made a fool of myself. 

“yeah, nick told me about it, he already told her to calm down on the questions, he also led me here to you and i don't think my mom is the only factor of you coming up here.” he says, dipping his head down to kiss my forehead. his fingers push my hair away from my face as i turn to look up at him. 

“i don’t know matt, i feel weird. i don’t belong in this sparkly dress or these high class parties. i’m so new to all of it, and don’t get me wrong, i love all of this and you so much to keep pushing through but if i’m being honest it’s really hard for me to be down there.” i hope matt understood what i meant by all of that because it really felt good to get off my chest. 

“i get it, we grew up differently, but that doesn’t change anything between us. i dont care if you were dirty and homeless on the street as long as i knew who you were i would have picked you up, housed you and loved you forever. and i'm willing to do that right now too. i don’t care if my family is worried about me, because i know that i'm alright now. you healed me.” he cupped my cheek making sure my eyes were still connected to his while he assured me of his intentions and beliefs. 

“i know i’m not what your mom envisioned who you would be with, so thank you for all of this. from the dress to the heels and your sweet words, thank you for sharing your beautiful life with me.” i sit up and begin to straddle matt, my red dress pools around us while i take matt in for a large hug. he returns it pushing my head into his neck letting me become way more calm then i was when i came up here. 

i look back up to him with a tear escaping from my perfectly done eye make up. “don’t cry please, it breaks my fucking heart when you cry.” he kisses the tear before it can run fully down my face fully. “how about we go to bed, i’ll get you all cleaned up and all i have to do is tell nick and chris that i’m not feeling well and we can cuddle all night, sounds good?” i eagerly nod, giving an enthusiastic yes. 

he wraps my straddled legs around his torso and carries me inside, keeping me bundled up in my blanket as I'm moved to the bed, before promptly putting out the fire i started. he retreats back to me bringing one of my silk black cami tops to change into while he goes to my large vanity and brings back a soaked cotton pad to use to clean my face of running mascara and concealer. 

he gently rubs and wipes across my face seeing him extremely focused on the task in front of him. he tosses the stained pad and he lets me crawl into bed. “okay i’ll be back im just going to find chris or nick to update them, i won’t be long.” he lingers at the door handle while telling me his exact actions while he heads out the door.

i check my phone for messages and notifications while before he comes back to our room, he strips off his button up abandoning it in the hamper that crowds a corner of the room. his dress pants hang low on his hips as they fall slightly while he pulls his belt through the multitude of loops on his pants. 

he’s now just left in his plaid print boxers as he slips under the charcoal grey duvet and snakes his arms around me pulling me in, embracing me just like he said he would. his chest is flush with my back and his legs entangle with mine. he’s warm and still smells like the intoxicating cologne he adores. i take a deep breath in being very content in where my life ended up and how i’m now engaged with my fiance and now letting the rest of his family know at a party. life is great when you find your person.

taglist - @westwiing13 @comet235 @mayhem73

[loveshotzz]

you reblogged your whatta man masterlist🤨 dont play w my heart rn idk if i can handle it

I did reblog it! but not cause it’s done :( I was manifesting a good writing night which I think it might be! It’s not done yet, but hopefully within the next weekish. I’ll give you a lil snippet since it’s taking so long 💗

God you hated when Eddie was right.

Hazel eyes and freckles trail along his neck leading to small moles placed like the stars above you on his sun kissed skin and stubbled jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks, the expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in seconds flat.

“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you silently scold yourself for acting like you’ve never seen a cute guy before.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary honey, it was an accident.”

The endearment that leaves his mouth followed by the smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground a matching chain slips out from under his shirt, the glow above giving you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.

“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.

Biting your bottom lip into a smile,you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.

“Well as long as your okay-“

“Steve.” He offers his name with the kind of smile that shows the whites of his teeth, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.

“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot.” you start to say doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks feel like they are on fire.

“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips, jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves unashamed before offering you another grin.

Giggles bubble past your strawberry flavored lips making his grin widen. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, the muscles in your face hurt from how hard you’re smiling.

“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice comes out sweet despite the teasing roll of your eyes as you point to your open window above.

He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger before all his attention is back on you. The tension growing thicker when he kicks off the wall. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his clothes, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside.

“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue to push the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk tells you all you need to know.

“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too.” Tracing your tongue over your top lip, you taste the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded lids. “Steve.”

[thomase1]

Neigbors and headaches

Pairing: Loki×Fem!Reader (other than some thirst, platonic)

Warnings: intense pain, some thirst, touch of angst and lots of fluff/comfort.

Word Count: ~1.700

Thank you @tessathechild for proof reading and helping me! 💙

What, Sel has actually managed to finish and post something once?! Its a good day!! Yes, this one story made it out of my 22!! drabbles and WIP's I've got.

Just a little thing I wrote, thinking of my migraines I sometines get. Saying that, I have written this based on my experiences with a few extras sprinkled in. So this is a cofort/hurt fic.

Loki has been your neigbor for over a year, but you never really spoke. The occasional 'hello' but that was it. Sure you know who he is, would be hard not to, considering he and his collegues are all over the news. Saying that, you are aware of his powers, his heritage and title, to you that just meant there was somebody in the building able to help in case of a robbery or shooting. Other than that, he was just another neighbour on your floor.

Which brings us to the problem. Youve got a migraine, the worst one youve ever had. Normally its located to one side, but this time its just your whole head, pain thundering against you skull. Three days it plagues you already, which is also the amount of time you barely slept. You got about four hours in total, every time you did fall asleep when the pain let off of you for a while, you got violently ripped from slumber again. It never went away for long. Which only made the sleep deprivation worse. Working in this state has been a challange, actually getting your work done impossible. To your horror, your boss noticed today, threatening to cut your payment short would you not 'change your work ethic'. As if you deliberetly got a migraine keeping you off sleep for days.

And you cant go to the doctor either since you got them on your toes already. The sheer amount of pain medications you get perscribed is, understandably, a red flag. The dosage and intensity of them, an even bigger red flag, but what are you surpossed to do?! They just dont work, none of them did.

Which leads us to you, currently knocking on Lokis, or how you adress him, Mr. Laufeyson, door. Its almost 10pm and the lack of sleep let all your pride melt away. You did not want to bother him, but you just cant bare it anymore. Your job is on the line for crying out loud! After a short time, the door opens; an annoyed Mr. Laufeyson peeking through the gap.

"Can I help you?", he beats you to it, irritation etched in his features.

"I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I have a strange request." Your heart is beating in your throat, maybe this wasnt a good idea after all, he does seem pretty annoyed.

"What is it?", he sighs, opening the door a little more.

He is wearing forest green pyjama bottoms and to your delight or horror, you arent quite sure yourself, no top. He looks like a marble statue you would see in renown museums and galleries. His chest is on eye level with you, makeing it difficult to not stare at his neatly trimmed black curls there. Your eyes wander to his perfect pecs, his well defined ribs leading down to his chiselled abdomen. That V-line made your breath catch in your throat for a moment, the small trail of hairs leading back down to that, sinfully, low hanging silk. Your eyes linger on the impressive bulge of your opposite for a second, a cleaning of his throat ringing in your tormented head, makeing you wince briefly. But also, you snapped your eyes up to his face again, your eyes blown wide in shock.

"Is it not a little rude to knock on my door at this hour, just to stare when I ask you a question?", his words seem displeases, but his lips are curled into a knowing smirk.

Now you clear your throat, a blush dusting your cheeks pink "What were you saying again?".

He gave a low chuckle, shakeing his head, "I was asking to what I owe your visit, Miss       L/n.".

"Oh, yes, sorry. I- Ive got a bad migraine and could not sleep for three days now. I was wondering-", you stutter but get stopped by him.

"I see. Migraines are quite the torment for midgardians I have heard.", he lays a pointer finger to the bow in his upper lip, thinking.

"Yes. Mine arent affected by pain medications either, I would not bother you if they were.", you tell him earnestly, your eyes dropping to the floor.

"It is rather fine, shall we get to your apartment so I can figure out a way to help you?", he asks with a soft smile that calms you down like a weighted blanket.

"Really? Yes, that would be so nice of you, thank you so much." You sway a little, pulling at your sleeve.

"Let me just get a shirt and some shoes and I will be right there.", he tells you, leaning the door closed.

A moment later he returns, now wearing a basic grey v-neck shirt and some brown slippers. "After you.", he gestures with his hand.

You nod enthusiastically, which you instantly regret, your pain reigniting like pouring gasoline to an open flame. You groan in pain, holding onto the nearest wall, your head feeling like it is sinking and rising repeatedly.

"Are you alright?", he grabs your upper arm, holding you stable.

You groan a "yes".

"I dont think you are, lets get you home, come on.", he hooks an arm around you waist, helping you over to your door.

You dig out your keys, trying to open the door, but your vision is playing tricks on you. He grabs them from your hands, "Allow me.". He quickly has the door open, nudging it open with his foot. Finally inside, with your shoes off and seated on your little two-seater sofa, you look at him. The pain eased off a little by now.

"Thank you, Mr. Laufeyson. I'm very sorry for the trouble.", you twiddle your thumbs.

"No trouble at all. Call me Loki please.", he sits down next to you, a friendly smile playing on his lips.

"Y/n.", you smile back at him. There is a comfortable silenence for a bit, until another groan of yours breaks it.

"Its worse again?", you hear his voice through cotton balls, thats what it sounds like at least.

"Yea.", you whimper, unable to explain it further. He waits until your eyes open again and you take a deep breath.

"So it comes and does in waves?"

"Its always there, but I can function with that pain. But then there are these sudden intense pains that just have me helpless.", you explain to him, noticing you are a bad host, "I'm sorry, would you like something to drink? Tea perhaps?".

He waves it off, "You were barely able to speak a momemt ago, let alone brew tea. I am just fine, thank you. And those pains, are they pulsating, throbbing, stabbing,..?".

You think about it, "The normal, bearable pain is pulsating, the sudden ones are throbbing, like a jackhammer.".

He humms his confirmation and thinks for a moment. "I think I have a spell that could help with that, though only temporaryly I'm afraid.", he looks at you a little sad.

"That sounds good, please just make it stop for now at least.", you beg him, the desperation clear in your voice.

He nods, "Make yourself comfortable.". You lean back into the cushions, to which he whispers, "Very well.".

He turns to face you better, giving you direct view of his jaw muscles. "You will feel a tingling first. After that you will alternately grow cold and very warm. Do not worry, that is totally normal.", he explains to you calmly.

"Understood."

He lays his hand on your head, palm flat against your forehead. You look at it expectedly. "Close your eyes?", he suggest, you follow, "Lovely. Now just stay calm and breathe for me.".

Just as he finishes what he says, you feel your skin tingle, growing warm after a brief moment. Very warm and then suddenly cold. Then warm again, but it stays at a soothing temprature, like a heating pad.

The pain subsides, almost like a wave washing it into nothingness. You smile and humm at the peaceful release from your torment. You havent even noticed in how much pain you were for the last thee days straight, until it was gone.

"Better?", he asks you.

You leave your eyes closed, savouring this moment of peace, you confirm his question with a 'mhhm'.

You hear his low timbre of voice tell you something, but you cant grasp his words. Your exhaustion kicked in right away, sleep taking you in a matter of seconds.

"Should it come up again and bother you or if you have any side effects, come to me at once.", Loki tells her but doesnt get an answer.

He feels her body growing limp. "Y/n?", he asks her in a whisper, only getting her even breath as confirmation.

She fell asleep. He smiles to himself, 'Poor thing is exhausted.'.

He gets up to leave, but as he's stood in front of her door, he glances over one last time. 'She would rather sleep in her bed, I guess.', he thinks as he sees her beginning to slump over to the side.

He walks over to her bed, drawing back the covers and then goes to collect her into his arms. Carefully as not to wake her, he walks over and sets her down. He makes sure her head lays comfortably and drapes her duvet over her.

He conjures a piece of paper and a pen, writing her a little message.

Dear Y/n,

you fell asleep, so I took the liberty of moving you to your bed, ensuring you sleep comfortable.

I did lock your door by magic, but you can unlock it as usual.

Just in case you ask yourself how that took place.

I hope you are well rested and pain free when you read these words.

Loki.

He places it on her nightstand and leaves her apartment, locking it as he told her in the letter. That night, he, too, had a peaceful sleep, feeling a sense of pride of being able to help this sweet neighbour of his.

When you woke up, you were confused at first, but quickly found the note Loki left you. You are so ashamed for falling asleep on him, not even thanking him for helping you. How embarrassing.

You defently owe him one.

[obitv]

i feel like. for the most part, pd fans dont think about the spirit world often. despite the ENTIRE ARC they spent there the ost people take away is mal = big evil guy and.. idk. the wispering woods Exists? but there is SO, SO MUCH going on there thats so much more important than youd think. just for starters

its a SERIES OF FLOATING ISLANDS IN A VOID, JUST LIKE FAUNA

mal? not so important there. his guide, ghoul (who we see a grand total of ONCE, in episode 10, and is mentioned again in episodes 11 and 12), is POTENTIALLY THOUSANDS OF YEARS OLD whereas mal i wouldnt put above 50, and thats even a stretch (i will get to the why later)

domains! those floating islands? all domains! ghoul? technically owns most of the domains! what does that mean? HE KNOWS EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS THERE AND CAN CONTROL IT.

also i think everyone forgets this but william was, visually, in his wisp form the entire time they were there

oh also ghoul has dozens if not hundreds of paintings of a man who might be jason king (ORIGAMI) in his castle.

so. ive taken the time to compile most of the information i could find on mal, ghoul, the spirit world, the wisps, an more into a handy post because im fucking insane (note: im only up to e13, the smoke samurai fight, in my rewatch. this IS where the majority of spirit world facts come from anyway, but anything i mention that isnt from those episodes wont be in as much detail bc my memory is ass. if you remember more things, let me know!) (also also, im going to avoid bringing up deadwood as much as i can because.... i think ive talked about it enough 😭)

starting with: GHOUL!

lets be honest. theres a very small chance you even remember this guy exists. but he is FASCINATING

to start with, he has a.. symbiotic relationship with mal, from what ive seen. he needs mal to interact with the physical world, mal needs him to go to the spirit world. ill go into this more in mals section

aside from that, mal is NOT the first physical vessel ghoul's taken. its not clear when he began working with mal, or how many forms he had before, but he's one of many

(also just a note because it can definitely be confusing... ghoul and mal seem to share control over the castle, but before seeing that mal is waiting for them in the dining room everyone was focused on ghoul and mal was barely brought up. its not clear if the things they see in the castle before going in to mal were his choice or ghouls but... ill include the paintings here)

on that note: the paintings!

what the fuck is going on in there

so. yeah. ghoul has.. dozens. and i mean DOZENS, hundreds if you count that they repeat over and over, of paintings featuring a man with "blond hair and chiselled jawline" in various important historical events. they line the walls of the upstairs corridor (the one that seems endless) and are never brought up again

do i think this is jason king? well im not convinced they ARENT... i will touch on this again later just keep it in mind

jumping back to domains, ghoul seems to have.. some degree of control over all of them. at least in the part of the spirit world he rules over, which i assume is. why he rules it. going by the king stuff its like. he owns all the land and "rents" it out to other spirits

rent is a nicer word, since he can CURSE PEOPLE to control domains and dictate how they behave

thats why the carnival is evil, if you remember. ghoul cursed the carnival skeleton (the REAL groundskeeper) to rule the domain and attack anyone who entered

what the fuck

also ghoul is a king

when looking for ghoul in ashes book, despite the very low roll they got some VERY important info: ghoul (who, when we see him, is comapred to antivenom from spiderman) -

this guy

HE WAS A HUMAN KING. his name is mentioned ALL THE WAY through ashes book, from front to back. a picture of a man in royal garb, was labelled with his name

something.. happened. that turned him from that spirit world king to a monstrosity.

its also never made clear if the man in the paintings is ghoul? we dont get a description of the kings face in the book and we dont get a description of the mans clothes

also, finally: when theyre in the physical world, mal and ghoul essentially share a body, with the body turning into That Thing ^^ when ghoul is in control. ghoul HAS to take control to open portals to the spirit world - he does it to william, and cantrip mentions it too when they interrogate her

he also appears separately from mal when they take william to the spirit world, but we dont see him at all in any other domains so thats a small sample size

BUT he Does have a fucking. encyclopedic knowledge of domains (which ill talk about later). he "knows all of these places [domains]"

NEXT: MAL!

where do i fucking start.

basic mal facts: asshole, british, very powerful, knows far too much about the spirit world to make any sense

just a basic overview of his powers, btw:

he can create illusions, float/fly (in the spirit world, at least), ghostshape, go intangible, and mayyybe has some sort of connection to earth or gravity powers because theres one point where he makes the ground beneath someone burst up but also that mightve been a weird ghostshaping trick and im honestly too scared to think about that

basically he seems to have most of williams powers + illusions and whatever that ground trick was. the only things we havent seen are invisibilty (which considering mechanically its just a flavouring of an advantage which isnt technically a power, makes sense) and the wisp form, though id consider the ghoul transformation to b the equivalent of that

oh in case you forgot he can also FREEZE. TIME. william isnt affected by this but im not sure if that was because mal wanted him to see what happened or because spirit shenanigans

also little aside but while williams powers manifest as wispy blue flames, mals are always black lightning (his ghostshaping, most noticeably)

the biggest mal question is.. how does he. know all that shit? youd expect ghoul to be the one who actuall has the knowledge but mal is ALWAYS the one they deal with

now you may be wondering: why is this an issue? well the thing is. we dont actually know ANYTHING about mal. we dont know where he comes from, what he wants, how he met ghoul, if his powers are his own or all come from ghoul... none of it

what we can ASSUME: mal was alive when he made some sort of deal with ghoul, because he obviously had a physical body. my personal theory is that mal is (one of?) the previous owner of ashe's book, since so far that's the only thing we've seen that allows you to summon spirits and allow them to possess you, and its full of references to ghoul. and quite honestly the thought that theres MULTIPLE books like that is terrifying. so

ok i actually just came up with that one on the spot but if mal had a better understanding of the language the book is in than ashe and wasnt so afraid to use it then actually him knowing a shitton about the spirit world makes so much sense. what the fuck

bizly bizlychannel youre prying that theory from my fucking corpse im in love with it now.

so. yeah. presumably, mal and ghoul made some sort of deal, because they work together. its not clear if mal is working to get william on his side by his own volition or if ghoul wants him to, or if its like a "ghoul brought it up and mal decided to go for it because hes better at talking and also isnt a horrifying monster" but whatever. unlike william and the wisps (amazing band name) who fight fucking constantly because william never ASKED for his powers, mal is comfortable with them

another thing mal seems to have control over is ghouls castle. he lays out the red carpet and makes every door lead to the dining room and also makes it impossible to leave

specifically, irt all the doors going to the dining room, bizly said "if he can control this castle and where it goes, thats what he wouldve done"

the corridor upstairs (without the carpet, with the paintings) also goes on literally forever. you cant go back once you walk far enough you have to go through a door. i have no idea if this was mal or ghouls choice

another thing! specifically layed out on the walls next to the carpet ("things he specifically wanted them to see") is an ornate dagger in a glass case. which vyncent with a gun steals but i dont think is brought up again ??? also the wording made me feel like there shouldve been more items listed but since condi immediately started stealing he just didnt include the rest ?? unsure

this is just a weird thing to note but theres like these freaky black tendrils that grab the table and hold it down when dakota tries to flip it. i dont know what to do with this information its just there

when william confronts mal on how much the spirits seem to hate him and ghoul, mal says "that's not what im here for" and, when pressed, says thats "a conversation for another day"

DOMAINS! AND THE SPIRIT WORLD IN GENERAL!

first: basics

the spirit world is, from what we've seen, a collection of floating islands over a void. these islands seem to all be "domains", places that are controlled by special spirits

the spaces between domains is the dead zone! this is where people go when they die, like 99% of the time. going there without special means (the hot air balloon, the carriage) will kill you.

so, how do you get a domain? ah. good... question....

one way is to kill whoever currently owns it. then its yours! congrats! you can alsp give away domains, but the only time we've directly seen this happen was the groundskeeper who was also cursed at the same time and ghoul seems to still have some control over the carnival anyway??? unclear

which leaves. william fucking wisp. because he has a domain! i am not getting into it here because ive said it all already but its there

also a little worth noting that williams domains seems to be shaped subconsciously without him even knowing it was there

i honestly cant speculate much more on williams domain because we just. dont have the answers. i could ask domain questions all fucking day like "did the wisps give william a domain" or "by being a powerful spirit did he just get an empty one or was one created just for him" etc etc we have no way of knowing

domains we know about: williams graveyard, the carnival, ghouls castle, the wispering woods (perhaps a series of domains? unknown), and the tricksters... house thing. do not ask me what the chaos zone is, i dont know and it scares me. if i had to guess itd be a series of. well. chaotic domains perhaps all partially ruled by the trickster but i also dont have ANY trickster lore written down bar "has a domain" so ill come back to that another day

and the obligatory deadwood mention: from what we can gather, the woods surrounding deadwood are where the barriers between the physical and spirit worlds are thinnest. specifically the area william died in was brought up which is totally linked to Everything about him

the wispering woods, in ashes book, is described as a "sanctuary" or "oasis". barely anybody has ever seen it and come back to say what it was like

ok bonus fact time. i dont know where to put these

WILLIAMS DAD? MAD FUCKING SUS

when they first talk to mal in his domain, he says the phrase "william! be a sport, be a pal, be my friend." its specifically noted that william recognises that phrase as something his dad said to him a lot as a child

mal is also pretty much.. the only person to call william "wisperer" consistantly. but for that phrase he said william

additionally, this entire. interaction between bizly and charlie

ill go crazy if i dont bring that up. so its here

AND! FINALLY! JASON MOTHERFUCKING KING!!! WHAT IS UP WITH THAT HUH?

in williams party city doritos induced fever dream (i am not talking about that ghost. i refuse) he sees the spirit world (floating islands) and he sees a throne made out of paper. this reads very clearly like a reference to origami/jason king, since hes dead at the start of the story

also i just want to say there IS a rolled where they say how jason died but theyre laughing really hard so i have absolutely no idea what theyre saying all i can hear is "dickass" im so sorry

so yeah. with that image in mind, hearing ghoul be described as a king (who HAS A CASTLE), and having so many paintings of a man who sounds similar to jason (am i reaching? maybe. but hes also the only prominent dead figure who already has connections to spirit world royalty and hes blond so let me have this) is just like. insane coincidence

i have nothing i can really prove here, because have o idea HOW jason an ghoul could be connected. but they are. i know it. believe me

thanks for reading this far it took me 2 hours to compile it all. if you have anything to add esp from later episodes PLEASEEEE PLEASE DO also if you wanna discuss anything i mentioned here i am always down.

[kayhi808]

What Happens in Vegas...

Locked up in a private penthouse suite in The Venetian, Billy can see the Las Vegas Strip lit up like Christmas. He hated taking jobs like this because it was so boring. But the money was too good to pass up and it was easy. Every 3-4 months, this guy holds high stakes poker tournaments and contracts Anvil for security, but insists that Billy works the tournaments.

It's the same 2 dozen people who show up. B-list celebrities, some local politicians, people on the poker circuit but you're new. He hasn't seen you here before. You're early. The players haven't arrived yet. He gives you one of his charming smiles, "ID please?"

*****

You hand him your ID and you're blown away by him. Vegas is known for having attractive people, but this guy is beautiful. He's over 6', chiseled face, perfectly styled black hair and the deepest chocolate brown eyes you've ever seen, almost black. His tongue snakes out to lick his lips and it makes you clench your thighs together. Shit. "Sweetheart," he looks into your eyes and it churns up the butterflies in you belly and your smile dreamily up at him. "Your name ain't on my list."

"Wait. What?" You shake yourself out of your little dream world. "I have to be." Without this job you aren't going to be able to make rent this month. "Can you please check again, sir?" He stares at you and a hint of a smile touches his lips when you called him, sir.

He looks again and you notice he's looking at the players list. "I'm not playing in the tournament. I'm hired as a server." He toggles to a different list & smiles. "My mistake," returning your ID. He steps aside and let's you pass.

You go to drop your belongings behind the bar and help set up the stations before the players arrive.

During the evening you sneak glances at the security guy at the door. Half-way through the night you approach him to offer him a drink and he gives you that same charming smile. "It's just water with lemon." He takes it and drinks down half of it.

"Thanks. I needed that."

"You could just flag us down & we can bring you a drink. We'll probably make some coffee a lil later."

He nods and holds out his hand, "Bill Russo."

I shake his hand, "I know. I've already asked around." I release him & walk back to the bar. I feel his eyes on me.

Day 1 of the tournament ends at around 5am you quickly clean up and divy up the tips so you can leave. As you pass Bill, "Enjoy your night. Morning?"

He wraps his hand around your arm and leans in to whisper, "Running off so soon?"

Shrugging, "What did you have in mind?"

Giving you a smirk, "Wait for me by the elevator." He releases your arm and walks towards his client. He looks over his shoulder and raises his eyebrow, like why haven't you left yet.

*****

This is crazy! What are you doing? You dont know this guy. You hit the elevator button. You can't do this. He's just someone with a pretty face. A pretty face and a voice that gives you goosebumps and a smile that makes your panties wet. You hit the button multiple times as if that would make the elevator car hurry. The bell dings and the doors open. You walk in ready to press lobby when Bill runs up, throwing his hand against the door to keep it open. "Sorry, it took longer than I thought."

He presses the button for his floor and gives you that smile that has you smiling back. You think: This is how you end up on Missing Persons posters.

The door closes and Bill's lips are on yours. He moved quick but his kisses were soft and languid. The doors open & he pulls away, but grabs your hand leading you to his room.

He unlocks his door and you follow him in. His mouth latches on to yours and your fingers tangle in his hair. The lazy kisses from the elevator turn more demanding. He kisses you like he can't get enough of you. You push his jacket off his shoulders and he grabs your wrist and pulls away. You notice his holster and weapon. You can't tell if that's sexy or scary. Again, you make things so easy for a serial killer. Billy secures his gun in a lockbox and removes his holster and tie and returns to where he left you.

Your fingers go to the buttons on his shirt and he works the zipper on your strapless dress. It falls to the ground and Billy smiles at the fact you went braless, so all you're in is a pink thong now.

His hand found their way to your breast and presses them together. Running his thumbs over your nipples, already hard from the chill of the A/C & gently pinching them, teasing you. Each flick of his fingers sent a small shockwave to your core. He walks you backwards to the bed & has you lying back. He bends down to suck your right nipple into his mouth, teasing slow circles around it while his hand gently squeezed your other breast. He alternates back and forth.

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart." You obey and he removes your panties. He pushes your legs up & apart.

He traced his fingers up & down your folds. He inserts the tip of his index finger into your aching pussy, swirling it teasingly around the entrance, as his other thumb traces around your clit in slow deliberate circles. He slowly pushes his index finger deep inside you, pulling out & dragging along all the most sensitive parts along the way. You clench down hard on his finger, "So sensitive. I think your pussy is enjoying this attention, isn't it?" Your breath start coming in soft pants. His ministrations were calculated, just enough to make you want more. "Do you want me to make you come?"

"Yes, Bill. Please!"

He inches lower on the bed, kissing along your thigh until he reaches your pussy. It wasn't long before his hands were replaced by his tongue. Soft and warm, exploring you in the same way his fingers did a minute ago. He uses his tongue to taste & tease every inch of you. Licking up & down your entire length of your slit, finding his way to your swollen clit. Sucking it into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, making you squirm. His fingers return, thrusting deep inside you. You feel yourself stretching around them. They thrust in & out, while his tongue works it's magic on you. You let out a loud moan as your climax hits you.

He strip out of his pants and boxers and reaches over to his night stand for a condom & rolls it on. His hands are back to gently rubbing your clit. "I love how wet you are for me."

He positions himself, rubbing the head of his cock against you. He starts to push in & you eyes flutter closed. "Open your eyes. Look at me." Surprised at his stern tone, you open your eyes & look into his ebony ones. "Good girl. Now I want you to keep them open the whole time, ok?" You nod & he smirks.

He's big. Bigger than the other lovers that you've had. As he thrusts in, you instinctively try to move away from him, but his hips & hands keep you firmly in place. He slows his thrust, "Oh, your pussy feels so tight & warm around my cock." He rests his forehead against yours, trying to maintain his control.

He begins to move inside you, slowly at first & then faster, deeper. Every thrust hitting every single nerve ending along the way. As the minutes went by he was like a machine, never tiring, driving himself into you over & over again.

And then you feel it again, the buildup inside & your eyes start to droop, "Eyes on me!" You whimper, but obey because you don't want him to stop. You explode into an even more powerful climax than before, screaming & moaning. And he saw it all, holding himself deep inside you as you come, his eyes staring straight into your soul.

Only when you collapsed with exhaustion, he leaned down to press his lips to you, sliding his tongue deep into your mouth, he resumed thrusting his cock in & out of you. It didn't take long before his own orgasm hit. He hisses your name as he collapses on top of you and lay motionless as you both try to catch your breath.

@idaofinfinity @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11

[l4pl4ces--4ngel]

suppose there's something else, here, a dangerous design, a way to rectify the balance, when you cross another line, suppose you've hurt your boyfriend, and pride's your greatest sin, suppose you can't remember, where he ends and you begin! your words are too hasty, your self-control poor, you've hurt many people, you'll always hurt more, you need some way to fix it, not prevaricate, but find and banish sin, before it's too late! too late! too late! there are only three people with the genius to try: me, myself, and i!

ambrose? what's going on?

i thought i told you to leave me alone!

what did you do to them? are they dead??

suppose that ancient athletes had a way to alter bone, suppose they wrote past muscle, theres a hardness just like stone! suppose it lets you carve yourself into what you want to be! they all pushed beyond their limits, and surpassed anatomy!

bassford, they can't move. how are you going to explain this to the rest of the school?

you can explain it if you like. im never going to be leaving this room!

ambrose, hey, just- just put down the chisel and come with me..! what are ... what else is there to make perfect?

i didn't think you'd understand! you've never been this close! it's just a bit more off the ankles, or a little off the nose! so my parents and my girlfriend, my closest friends and you, will know i deserve their love, once there's no more work to do! there are only three people who'll be perfect in their eyes, ME, MYSELF, AND I!

suppose you're fucking arrogant, of course i understand! but love isn't conditional, it comes with no demands, suppose you see this thing through, trap yourself inside stone! you can have the perfect body, perfect, dead and alone! just make a body you can live with, and live in it! find someone you're in love with, give in to it! i don't need to be perfect, as long as im theirs, when somebody loves you, then nobody cares!

PAIN IS WEAKNESS LEAVING THE BODY. PAIN REWIRES EACH INDIGENT NERVE. PAIN KEEPS YOU SANE, MORALS STRAIGHT, SENSES SHARPER, PAIN IS THE LOVE YOU DONT HAVE TO DESERVE! because thats how it starts, in snippets and rivulets, and a growing, glowing feeling, that you can't puzzle out just yet, every gesture a message, every secret a sign, your future's elided, dused with theirs in one line!

so i'm sorry you're lonely! but this torment will pass! and you'll never feel better, if you- fucking die- you stupid ass!

-

so, are we formatting the follow-up interviews the same way as the first round? or are we cutting your introductions?

...

hello? earth to beatrix?

oh! sorry, uh, i think... i think the first one is good.

suppose i made an error, not so easily reversed. lin's never followed through, but maybe this time is the first. suppose he kills someone or dies in an awful fight, and i could've stopped it, would i sleep through the night?

you could always end this, before you lose control, my grandma would tell me, i'll lose half my soul, but im not quite to blame here, that all falls on lin. and without that advantage, there's no chance i'd win. there are only three people to justify why: me, myself, and i!

research means you're all alone, hoping that nobody calls your bluff, stay original, stay true to yourself, but will what you are be good enough? the only limits you can know are your own, so why not push them a bit more? everyone here is an enemy near to earing the thing you've been yearning for!

there are only three people on whom you can rely:

ME,

MYSELF,

AND I!

-

vincent, i-i can't go back, or undo this, or fix it. help me get out of this. a favor- for an old friend!

a token. of my friendship.

bye, ambrose.

-

me, myself, and i!

[pesterloglog]

Jade Harley, Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas

Candy, page 19

JADE: how cute do you guys think johns baby is going to be

JADE: like on a scale of 1-11???

DAVE: i dunno

DAVE: i still havent come to terms with the fact that johns gonna be a dad

JADE: you dont think hell be a good one?

DAVE: i didnt say that but ok since you asked

DAVE: i mean think about it if you were gonna rank us in order of maturity based on all the years weve known each other

DAVE: about where would you put john

KARKAT: BELOW ME BUT ABOVE YOU.

DAVE: yeah exactly

DAVE: now hes all married and pregnant and hes got a mustache

KARKAT: I’M STILL NOT OVER THE FUCKING MUSTACHE.

JADE: why not he looks so good!!

DAVE: yeah he looks disturbingly good

DAVE: i almost cant talk to him anymore it looks so good

JADE: ohhhhh?

DAVE: jesus jade dont fuckin read into it

DAVE: a bro can appreciate how attractive his bro has become and maybe get a little breathless at the sight of his chiseled jawline and manly facial hair without being gay about it

DAVE: ive just been thinking lately everytime i see him that hes

DAVE: ok dont make fun of me for saying this but its like

DAVE: johns a Man

DAVE: not a lowercase m man but a fully grown up legit fuckin Dude with a leather briefcase and a suit that he only wears on special occasions

KARKAT: PRETTY FUCKED UP.

DAVE: i know right

JADE: hmmmm...

JADE: well...

JADE: ive actually been thinking lately about how since rose and kanaya had a kid and jane and jake had a kid and john and roxy are gonna have a kid.......

JADE: what would you think if maybe...

JADE: ....we had kids???

KARKAT: WHAT

KARKAT: WHO? YOU AND DAVE?

JADE: no stupid all three of us!

DAVE: uhhh

JADE: what??

DAVE: uhhhhhhh

JADE: look i know there are “issues” to sort out in terms of um....... feasibility

JADE: but i think there are a lot of options to consider!

JADE: maybe someone can help us out

JADE: like.... someone we know?

JADE: or i dont know! what about adoption!

JADE: that could be cute! adopting a little grub!! aww...

JADE: or a human! whatever! im not picky

DAVE: uhhhhhhhhhhhhh

KARKAT: UHHHHHH IS FUCKING RIGHT.

KARKAT: JADE, DON’T YOU READ THE NEWSPAPERS?

KARKAT: THE NEW ADMINISTRATION IS CRACKING DOWN ON CERTAIN KINDS OF INTERSPECIES ADOPTION LAWS.

KARKAT: IF YOU’RE SO INTENT ON IT BEING “THE THREE OF US,” WE LITERALLY WILL NOT BE ABLE TO ADOPT A HUMAN CHILD BECAUSE THE HUMAN ADMINISTRATION IS AFRAID THAT I’D...

KARKAT: I DON’T KNOW.

KARKAT: TEAR INTO IT, AND FEAST ON ITS ORGANS.

KARKAT: AND IN THAT KIND OF POLITICAL CLIMATE? WELL, I’M NOT SURE IT’S A WORLD I WOULD WANT TO RAISE A TROLL CHILD IN RIGHT NOW.

DAVE: jokes on them ive never seen you tear into anything more complicated than a microwave dinner

KARKAT: I KNOW, RIGHT?

DAVE: i mean on the other hand if we adopt a kid young enough it would totally fit in the microwave

KARKAT: WHAT THE FUCK, DAVE. I’M NOT GONNA EAT OUR THEORETICAL BABY.

DAVE: yeah dude i know

DAVE: youre probably like closet dad of the fuckin year

DAVE: just waiting for his moment to shine

DAVE: i bet youd whine and complain about getting a kid til we actually brought junior home

DAVE: the moment you saw his chubby lil cheeks your face would light right up

JADE: oh... i can imagine the look on karkats face right now

JADE: heheh

DAVE: yeah you know exactly the one

DAVE: like how he looks when his hot pocket finishes cooking in the microwave

DAVE: which he understands is an instrument of food preparation

DAVE: and not some sort of grim infant warming device

KARKAT: WHY DID YOU HAVE TO BRING IT BACK TO THE MICROWAVE?

DAVE: oh

DAVE: cause i had more jokes to make about the subject

KARKAT: OF COURSE. GOD FORBID JADE AND I ARE NOT FORCED TO LISTEN TO EVERY LETTER OF YOUR MORBID INTERNAL DIALOGUE.

DAVE: whatever you love it

DAVE: anyway

DAVE: on the baby in the microwave front

KARKAT: GOD

DAVE: id be more worried about me being the one whod do the deed so to speak

DAVE: i mean its not like ive got a great demonstrative background in child rearing or anything

DAVE: considering all the places i got left as a kid i wouldnt be surprised if id just put our baby in the toaster by accident or something

DAVE: like if you tally up the amount of hours i spent locked in the fridge compared to the amount of hours i spent in the american school system learning how to be normal and do polynomials

DAVE: just sayin it looks dire

JADE: .....

KARKAT: ...

DAVE: yeah so anyway im gonna stick to hot pockets i think

JADE: dave

JADE: you really think youd make that bad a father?

JADE: even with me and karkat helping you?

DAVE: eh dont take this personally but im an evidence based hypothesis kinda guy and so far three way relationships in our friend group attempting parenthood...

DAVE: the record aint so lookin so good

DAVE: just saying

DAVE: a clown a fascist and a male sex icon walk into a bar sounds like the start of a bad but funny joke

DAVE: but when its the start of a family thats when it gets a bit less funny to me

DAVE: poor little dude gonna be fucked up

JADE: oh come on dave

JADE: tavros is a cute kid!

KARKAT: SURE, HE IS *NOW*.

DAVE: the moment cognitive function starts firing off in that kids head hes gonna be scarred for life

JADE: we dont KNOW that

DAVE: jade i know jakes like your bestie

DAVE: and also your grandfather

DAVE: and also kinda your grandson

DAVE: oh also your fucking dad i guess

DAVE: but his relationship is bad

JADE: hey... thats...

JADE: not NECESSARILY true...

KARKAT: YOU’RE RIGHT, IT’S NOT FUCKING TRUE.

KARKAT: DAVE’S JUST BEING GENTLE HERE TO SPARE YOUR FEELINGS.

KARKAT: HIS RELATIONSHIP IS NOT MERELY “BAD”

KARKAT: HIS RELATIONSHIP IS A FLAMING WRECK OF AN INTERSTELLAR WARSHIP HURTLING TOWARDS THE PLANET AT TERMINAL VELOCITY WITH THE ENTIRE CREW BRUTALLY SLAUGHTERED UPON REENTRY, SHOVED STRAIGHT DOWN THE CHAGRIN TUNNEL AND THEN IMMEDIATELY SHAT OUT THE OTHER SIDE, THUS FLOODING THE ENTIRE FUCKING NEIGHBORHOOD WHEN IT CLOGS UP THE LOAD GAPER.

JADE: ...its not like i dont know that

JADE: john never shuts up about it

JADE: i mean, he and jane used to be close back when we all first met but last time i talked to john he....

JADE: well, he accused her of “raping” jake

DAVE: oh shit

KARKAT: YOU DON’T FUCKING SAY.

JADE: its not like i dont worry about jake but come on!

JADE: were all adults

JADE: what am i supposed to do? show up at his window dressed like the blue fairy and whisk him away from his terrible life??

JADE: maybe that would work for a few days, but one thing i learned from dating around a lot in my youth is that no ones going to leave a bad relationship until its THEIR idea to leave

JADE: its...

JADE: ME???

DAVE: holy shit

KARKAT: WHAT IN THE EVER LIVING FUCK?

DAVE: uh

DAVE: good question

DAVE: idk but we should probably get her some help

KARKAT: HELP? FOR WHAT??

KARKAT: IT LOOKS LIKE HER INTERNAL ORGANS ARE OBLITERATED. SHE’S COVERED IN MORE BLOOD THAN I THOUGHT HUMANS EVEN HAD INSIDE THEM.

DAVE: well we cant just leave her in this fuckin hole man

DAVE: come on gimme a hand

KARKAT: JADE?

KARKAT: DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON HERE??

KARKAT: WHAT SHOULD WE DO ABOUT THIS

DAVE: hey jade you hear us

DAVE: jade???

JADE: yes dave i heard you

JADE: i need to talk to jane

[evilvillain123456789]

I get scared people dont like me so what do I do?

OK listen to me first of all let me tell you details about myself I’m 40 years old and I’ve never taken bullshit from no one. This is not Riverbial or a joke or a metaphor I am not fucking with you I’m sitting your bitch ass down and telling you what’s real about life. I’m 40 years old and there can be 40 more of me but what’s more important regarding to your fucking pathetic situation is that you need to learn to not give a shit that’s right not give a shit.

you need to fucking stand up for yourself once in your life and realize that the shit that you like to do feels good unless it feels bad you know what I’m saying like don’t do some fucked up shit don’t actually do heroin or some shit that’s not a good idea you just need to get your shit together and like if you like like fucking rolling yourself up in a big tortilla and jerking off go ahead I don’t give a shit but don’t involve anyone and your bullshit man. Don’t evolve anyone and your bullshit and you’ll be fucking fine man. Just like reach out when you need help you know like peace and love blah blah are we fucking get it but here’s what I’m fucking saying. You got a let people give a shit about you good when they give a shit about you bad you just got a lean over fucking grab your ankles and fart on their fucking faces with big clapping wet shiny oily rosy butt cheeks keep going

and when I’m looking at those big oil a rosy wet butt cheeks that are weapon wet clapping clapping like a weapon I get pissed off and I just turn my head and throw up but you got to keep farting because if you fart oh man I’m sorry I’ve been getting a little Ronchi off topic here well truth be told my wife hasn’t let me hit in the past few weeks so I’ve been getting really into hobbies to try to avoid pornography even though the only pornography I look at is overwatch stuff. Woodworking

is what I’m really getting into these days to try to keep my hand off my fucking dick and it’s starting to work but I’m basically just kind of carving it like I’m chiseling clay I get kind of like a whole log and I just go to town rather than a 2 x 4 because it’s easier that way cause I got a bunch of trees need cut it down yeah I’m well aware I’m getting real raunchy with you right now a big Ronchi boy just kidding man fuck off come on. Did you catch the game last night it really got me upset that they put Wilt the stilt from the jokers back on the fucking line if you know what I’m saying. I know they’re going to trade McCafferty to the Lakers

fuck the lakers

yeah McCafferty man. He wrote all that shit on Twitter about how he’s gonna burn down the library‘s that Carnegie bought for New York. That was really fucked up and specific but he said he was joking so it’s like fine. I don’t even think he put them in New York I think he put them in their place of birth. Man I’ve been thinking about Carnegie a lot lately. He knew his kids were gonna turn out to be dip shit do you ever read the gospel of wealth. He knew his kids are gonna turn out to be stupid piece of shit so he didn’t really give them a big crazy fortune Yeah I know instead he just kind of wrote all this shit about libraries I guess that by today’s standard he’d be a socialist is what I’m trying to tell you which is a good thing I know that’s pretty left-wing of me and I know I’m been more of a centrist in the past Yep I know that’s pretty fucking left wing with me yeah I know that’s pretty left-wing

im a right winger but i stuck to grime thats why i've done what i've done in such a short time my g

oh you’re right winger are you. With all the shit that’s going on that’s not even fucking funny. Bro seriously you are. Fucking with me. That’s so fucking dumb. Why don’t you get off this gaming out for a little boys and play something else with a 40-year-old man huh. Like you and me. I’m talking outback. On the pavement. Your skull. Spattering and splattering. Into. 1 million. Beautiful. Shards. Of. Rubys

[littlemisslipbalm]

“it’s not that important”

Summary: Y/N is in Harry’s band and one night they have a drunken hook up. One thing leads to another and they find themselves engaging in a friend’s with benefits type of situation. spoiler: it is important

AKA: A friends with benefits to lovers story :) with some angst in there

This is for @stylesharrys fallinharry10k celebration so my trope is friends with benefits! prompt is “you have no goddamn idea what you do to me. when i’m around you, i have no control of my emotions or my thoughts” and the tenth picture ^ i kinda just used it in the beginning to descripe what he was wearing - i got really carried away with this story but the prompt is in there !! lol, not proofread tho but would love your feedback !!!! :) love y’all very much 

oh boy i’ve had this done for agesss but i hadn’t written the smut until today so now we’re here i dont even remember what happens - i vaguely remember not loving the end but I hope yall enjoy

Word Count: 15.4k (longest fic to date) | Warnings: smut, angst, fluff, alcohol consumption? i dont remember but i dont think theres anything too heavy in here.

-

“Hey Harold!” You smile as you easily hop over the side of the couch and settle beside your bandmate.

Harry groans, yet can’t keep the small smile off of his face when he sees it’s you. “How many times have I told you to never call me that?”

Your eyes narrow at his faux glare. “And how many times have I told you, I simply do not care?” 

You reach a hand out and tousle his already disheveled, unstyled brown hair. Despite his lack of styling, his hair still looked perfect. His chestnut hair fell into a middle part when he did nothing to it and you found it endearing. It made him look far younger than he truly was, like a boy you might have pursued when you were in your early days at college. The waves slightly framed his prominent cheekbones and chiseled jaw that was sporting a tiny amount of stubble.

He moves his arm from around the back of the couch to pat at his hair, trying to put it back in its nondescript position you had just messed with. After he’s satisfied, he uses the same hand to push up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. They’re chestnut brown Gucci frames that match the natural highlights in his hair. You can safely assume that’s why he bought them. The lenses are clear, but you know they don’t hold any prescription. He looks incredulously at you from behind them still.

“Nice glasses,” you mention offhandedly as you reach out to the coffee table to grab the drink you had left there earlier.

Before Harry had arrived, you had been taking up residence on the couch, in the spot he had actually taken up. You had ventured to the restroom for a moment and gotten held up in a conversation when asked your preference for the Beatles. Having to defend your staunch stance for the Beatles and against the Rolling Stones, you had gotten swept up into an argument with Adam. He believed that because the Rolling Stones toured for longer warranted them the title of best rock band. While you countered that despite their long touring and production of music, the Stones had a rotation of members. The Beatles maintained the four of them and held such a large impact even though they were barely together for a decade. They were one of a kind, or at least the first of their kind, you’d allow. You weren’t really in the mood for intellectual conversation tonight, so upon seeing Harry taking up your seat, you had told Adam you’d continue the discussion at a later date and returned to your spot.  

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles as his gaze flits around the room. He wasn’t sure if you were actually complimenting him, but he would take it as one either way.

The rest of your friends are all up and about, drinking, talking, dancing. It was the usual house party scene: a relatively intimate gathering, music you all actually liked, some friends of friends feeling slightly out of place. There was no pressure in this type of gathering but still Harry wasn’t necessarily in the party mood tonight. Usually, Harry was the one instigating these types of get-togethers with his friends and bandmates. He liked to be the life of the party, but as the tour loomed closer and closer, he felt some tinge of longing for quiet and solitude. He knew he wouldn’t have much quiet while on the road, which mostly didn’t scare him. He loved the stage and the high he received from performing and the gratification he felt from all the people in the room being there to see him. But there was also that other part of him that liked the quiet, the privacy. As the lack of alone time nudged itself around the corner, he had been hoping to enjoy solitude, or at the very least peace before he was on the road. Some sort of blissful state before technical chaos ensued. When Charlotte, the host of tonight’s soiree, had texted their group chat about tonight, Harry had politely declined. Then came the slew of private texts from Charlotte giving him all the reasons he should come tonight. He tried to say no again, but had shown up after the continued begging from her.

His appearance mirrored his expression, choosing a not perfectly fitted white t-shirt and random trousers rather than picking something he really loved, like usual. You could tell something was up and as his friend you were wondering what was wrong with him.

“Don’t sound so excited, Harry, someone might mistake you for somebody who’s happy to be here.” You stick your tongue into the side of your cheek, gauging his reaction.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not very funny?” He quips, green eyes flashing to meet yours.

Your banter is probably how the pair of you communicated the best, never really falling into the whole serious side of friendship. You never shared those late night talks about the future or your fears. It was a fun friendship, so you didn’t fancy yourself one of his closest confidants. When it came to music, you and Harry were a bit more serious which formed a sort of paradox because the music you would share with each other gave a far greater insight into your souls than you probably realized. As a member of his band, you would discuss his music and what was going on with that sort of business part. But the sharing and discussion of other music that you did was part of your friendship, even if you didn’t see it like that. Because of the countless albums you had recommended to each other and the specific songs you had made note of, Harry and you knew each other much better than you thought you did. Music connects to something deep inside yourself and you have to like it enough and know the other person well enough to believe that they will also enjoy it to recommend it. As much tongue and cheek that you partook in with Harry, deep down, unbeknownst to either of you, you were that friend he shared his hopes and fears with, through the way he knew best, music.

“No, most people find me hilarious...”

You take a sip of your drink, trying to cover up the sting that his remark actually left. Most of the time you were great at keeping up with anyone’s banter, especially Harry’s, but tonight you weren’t feeling it. His tone had sounded so harsh it almost sounded like he meant it. His features soften when he sees the way your face falls, despite your sarcastic tone.

“‘M sorry. I’m just not in the best mood tonight. Didn’t want to come, but Charlotte…” He shifts to face you, arm retracting slightly around the couch, landing his hand at the edge of your shoulder. His fingers fiddle with themselves absentmindedly, he turns his rings around his fingers and they ever so slightly brush against your shoulder. You don’t mind, you know its his nervous tick that he did whenever he didn’t have something to clink them against.

“Yeah, same here, actually.” Your tuck an out of place hair behind your ear, returning your gaze to Harry, who’s tilting his head at you curiously. “But might as well make the most of it, though. After all, this is our last week before tour starts.” You raise your glass and tilt it towards him before taking a sip.

You really didn’t have a plan, you were just trying to make him feel a little better. It was seldom you saw him so solemn at this type of gathering. He usually was the one bouncing from group to group, entertaining everyone with his dazzling charm and quick wit. Sometimes he would bring a date and spend the night with them in the corner, but that was usually at bigger parties than this. At these types of gatherings you often found yourself talking with Charlotte for most of the night. You were both new additions in the band and you had clicked immediately. You would travel in a pair between different groups and talk with everyone. Sometimes you would tell a humorous anecdote about your life and everyone would laugh wholeheartedly. Your ability to retell a story and make it hilarious every time seemed to be your secret talent. You could make any experience into a ten-minute retelling and it always sounds like the funniest moment of your life. It ranged from your embarrassing audition for Grease as a tween to your supermarket run in with an old acquaintance or B-list celebrity the day before. It didn’t matter what it was, it just always had the entire circle of people laughing and wiping their eyes with joy. You’d laugh a little with themselves, but usually you just had a triumphant smile on your lips for the rest of the night.

He nods, sipping his own drink for the first time since you had settled down beside him. “Well, I’m all ears.”

“What?”

“Give me your suggestions on how to make the most of tonight.”

“Drinking, mostly, was my plan,” you laugh nervously as Harry continues to stare at you intently.

“Mostly?”

“I mean, what do you want me to say? I didn’t think to pack my bouncy castle, my bad.”

He bites back a laugh but lets some air escape his defined nose, before staring with a deadpan face at you.

You like to tease him. You simply liked him. Harry was different from other men you knew. You were pretty sure most people could say that though. Harry was just different. It seemed like no one could not have some sort of affection for him. With the playful friendship the pair of you had, you always skirted the edge of flirtation. But you also didn’t particularly ever want to cross any lines with him. He was the employer of you, technically. He had brought you into his backing band and you wouldn’t do anything to harm that position. As well, at the end of the day you knew Harry. His tendencies and the choices he made.

When you were around him at parties like this, you had to try really hard to keep him at an arm’s length. Because on one hand, you would drink and suddenly the boundaries you put up didn’t seem that important, instead his lips started to look rather inviting, but on the other, you knew that he was extremely emotionally closed off to any relationship that was more than either friendship or a one night stand.

Harry doesn’t give you a response, just swings back his drink. The pair of you sit and drink in silence. Before you know it, Harry and you are five drinks in, finally talking after the second. The pair of you decide to move to the balcony outside and continue your conversation there after the third. After the fourth, you're getting really handsy and by the end of the fifth, Harry’s arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you're laughing breathlessly into his neck. It looks like he’s just shielding you from the cold night air, but both of you seemed to be enjoying each other’s embrace for other reasons.

Finally catching your breath, you lean back and pant softly as you meet eyes with Harry. His pupils have blown out from the alcohol and dark light. The emerald green barely surrounds the black and you swear there’s flecks of gold or maybe brown in them. Your brows scrunch at the revelation and Harry asks what you’re thinking. You don’t respond, too entranced and drunk to even hear him.

“Oi,” he bops your nose, “What is goin’ on in there, little lady?”

Your hand reaches up and widens Harry’s eye manually. His inebriated state has no qualms about you doing such an odd thing. “Why’s your green not actually green?”

“What?” He asks before moving your hand away from his face, it instead falls to his chest. The pair of you shift until your caged between his body and the balcony’s ledge. You pout as you stare up at him. His skin looks soft and taught over every inch of his face and neck. The urge to kiss him keeps nagging at the back of your mind. The idea keeps creeping up closer and closer and the drunker you are the less likely you are to suppress it.

“Do you want to fuck me?” You blurt out.

“Sure.” Harry isn’t taken aback. He had been thinking about asking for a while, so he was glad you had asked first, made it easier for him.

“Okay, let’s go.”

He takes you back to your place, the pair of you catching a cab the short distance between yours and Charlotte’s flats. No one blinks an eye at the pair of you leaving together. Everyone watched the pair of you sulk all night about being there and only enjoying the other’s company, so they weren’t keen on either of you staying. Charlotte was simply glad the pair of you had stayed for as long as you did.

The two of you walk casually until you’re inside your bedroom. Once inside, Harry throws you on the bed and fucks you. Hard. He’s got you spread out in more ways than you had ever thought possible. He’s got you saying things you had never even dreamed of saying. And he’s got you cumming and screaming more than you could have ever wanted. He enjoys himself as well. He loves the way you feel around him and the way your eyes look up at him while he fucks you straight into the bed. He loves the way you sound whispering dirty things and screaming his name. He loves the feel of your soft skin all over your body as he pushes deep inside you. He loves the way you’re able to rip a guttural moan from him every time he cums. And he cums three times that night. While it wasn’t quiet, he did find that blissful state he had been in desperate need of.

After the third round, Harry feels spent. He brings himself into a sitting position, legs hanging off the edge of your bed. You’re lying in your bed, completely overstimulated, cumming at least twice as many times as Harry. He scratches at the top of his head, his bicep bulging as he folds his arms around himself.

“That was fucking good, Y/N. Just what I needed.”

You can only hum in response.

Then he takes your blanket and lays it over you. After that he begins to stand up, getting ready to grab his things and go.

“You don’t have to go…” your voice raises when you realize what he’s doing.

“Yeah, I do. This was just a one time thing, yeah? I enjoyed it, but you know...”

“Erm, I guess?” You rolled to fully look at him, he was pulling his t-shirt back on now, his marked chest disappearing beneath the white fabric. “Do you really not stay over at your one night stands?”

He thinks about it as he begins with his shoes and his glasses at the same time. “Yes? Usually I don’t know the person and I don’t particularly want to sign an autograph when I leave in the morning. Best to leave immediately afterwards.”

“That was exactly why I wanted you to stay...Shit! No chance you’ll give me an autograph now? Could sign my tit, right next to your hickies.”

He laughs, automatically in a better mood after the catharsis of having sex. It was also a relief for him that you didn’t seem to be weird about the hook up. “Shut up!”

“You’re a twat, Harold.” He groans instinctively at the annoying nickname, not caring about the ‘twat’ part. “But be my guest, you can freeze your arse off while waiting for your cab outside at this hour.”

“Rude..” He mutters, standing in your doorway now. “You wouldn’t actually make your employer stand out in the cold at this time of night. I haven’t even got a jumper. Could get a cold and ruin my voice. ”

“You’re the one who says it’s best to leave immediately. Get on it, mister.”

Your hand makes a shooing movement, but he doesn’t budge. You sigh as he makes a puppy dog face - eyes wide and a puckered pout with his flushed cheeks and lips - playing into your actual kindness, that he knows is somewhere. Your sweetness that you were keeping hidden from Harry right now. Nothing was serious between you so it made sense that you were trying not to let your innate ability to care show as he’s about to walk out on you.

“Ugh, fine. Stop looking at me like that. Just grab one of my coats from the bottom right, they’re all oversized so one should fit.” He doesn’t relent on the face. “And you can stay inside until your cab comes.” You sigh and throw one of your pillows at him. He catches it easily and throws it back, much softer than your throw. “Also never pull the employer card on me again when I’m naked in the bed you just fucked me in,” you call as he looks through your closet.

Returning with a patchwork coat you had thrifted tight over his shoulders, he looks at you seriously, “Yeah sorry about that part. Definitely wasn’t trying to exert my power over you, it sounded better in my head. Meant more like you could ruin my voice and both of our jobs.”

You nod and chuckle slightly, finding how inarticulate Harry could be as an endearing trait. His explanation didn’t actually make it sound better. “The jacket fits.” You say, choosing to move forward from Harry’s weirdness, knowing he didn’t mean any harm from his initial statement.

“Yeah, thanks. I think my cab is here,” He glances at his phone, “So I’ll go...See you?”

“I’m sure.” You smile, “We do in fact work together and will soon be touring the world. Would be a bit weird if I didn’t see you.”

“Right.” He nods and adds a peace sign before he walks out of your sight. You know he’s gone when you hear the door click shut. What an interesting night.

-

Love on Tour had just started and Harry couldn’t lie. He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. You were both his most recent partner and the best he had had in a while. He found himself rubbing over the spots on his neck and clavicle that you had given particular attention to during the night you had shared together. When he went to bed it was your body he pictured to get himself off. So, after the first show he’s beelining to you at the beginning of the after party. He’s got an adrenaline high and he needs a release. You’re the solution. He’s whispering in your ear, asking if you’d like to meet him in his dressing room. Your eyes study his face when he pulls back and they widen slightly when the realization of what he’s implying dawns on you. Then you’re nodding and excusing yourself from a random conversation five minutes later.

Inside Harry’s dressing room, you find Harry already unbuttoning his shirt. He grabs your face and shoves his lips onto yours once you lock the door. As he kisses you he tries to make one thing very clear, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Got it.” You begin to finish Harry’s job of taking off his shirt.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, “Are you okay with that?”

“Jesus fuck, yes, Harry, just shut up and fuck me senseless again!”

He listens to you and begins to kiss down your jaw and neck. His open-mouth kisses leave a searing trail across your skin. He settles on a spot at the base of your neck and begins to suck and nip at it with vigor. You set to work on finishing his job of unbuttoning his shirt. Then you pull off your own shirt, reaching behind you to untie the bows at the back. The new skin exposed grabs Harry’s attention and he moves down to suck over the cleavage of your tits. He’s happy to be back with his ‘bosom friends’. You smack his head when he says it and he chuckles darkly, only sucking harder on them causing you to moan louder than you would like.

Once you’re both in only your underwear, you find your back pressed up against the mirror behind the dressing room counter. Harry’s body is nestled between your spread legs as he kisses down your skin. His fingers dance along the line of your thong as he looks up from beneath his lashes for position, you only push his head closer to your heat in response. He laughs mischievously before tugging them down off your hips.

“Missed this pretty little cunt...All I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout,” He mutters as he begins to latch onto your dripping core.

Your brows shoot up at the thought that Harry’s mind has been stuck on you for the past week. You definitely had thought about your drunken hook up a bit, but hadn’t thought it had left a lasting impression on Harry, you assumed he had that lovely of a night with every person he chose to spend intimate time with. These thoughts are forgotten when Harry’s warm tongue is lapping at your swollen bud. You’re already panting for Harry and now you’re heaving with moans and whimpers leaving your mouth with every lick and nip of his expert mouth.

“Fuck Harry, feels so good,” you whine as his tongue travels down your folds and swirls and dips into your hole.

He moans at your words and the way your legs squeeze at his head. His hands move to spread you open wide to maintain his control and he smirks at the way your body rolls due to the friction of his voice against your pussy.

“Be a good girl f’me,” he growls still pressed against your wet heat.

Your body rolls again as you get closer and closer to your first release. Your bite your lip trying to contain all of the sounds that are trying to escape your mouth. Harry notices the new silence and glances up seeing how you’re trying to behave. As much as he likes you obeying his words, he also wanted to hear how he was pleasuring you.

“Tell me how you feel, princess,” he demands.

“So-so good,” you hiccup as his fingers caress over your folds now as he looks you in the eyes, his lips wet with your slick. He kisses you hard, his tongue diving into your mouth and you kiss back passionately, loving your taste on his tongue.

He pulls back and your hands trail down his chest, swirling around his familiar tattoos and hair that grace his lower torso as you move. He grins, enjoying the feeling of you on him and how he was affecting you.

Soon enough, his cock is finding its way back to your glistening folds, wet with your own liquids as well as his saliva. His mouth waters at the sight. He only pushes into you a few times like this. Then he catches sight of himself in the mirror in front of him and can’t resist. He pulls out and flips you over, your squeal leaving your mouth before you can stop yourself. His dick finds your entrance once again, not wanting to be without the wonderful warmth for any longer than he must.

“Ahhh,” Harry groans when he slips back inside.

Your head throws back on your neck, the feeling of him as well as the sight of him gripping your hair in one hand and your fleshy hip in the other. His rings dig into the skin as he’s able to slam more forcefully in this position. You gasp and whine at his motions. The sounds coming from between your legs are turning you on even more and they seem to make Harry happy too. He picks up the pace and drops the grasp of your hair for a second. Your head falls down as you try to keep yourself up on your elbows.

Gripping both of your hips, Harry growls, “Look at me while I fuck you. C’mon now.”

You moan in response and tear your eyes open to see your reflections in the mirror. One hand goes up to hold onto the mirror to give yourself more traction, causing your back to arch even more. The new position has Harry’s cock slamming into you deeper.

“Fuck!” Harry practically yells and can’t keep himself from landing a harsh slap on your ass. You jump forward at the sting but his other hand keeps the pace steady. He keeps burying himself into you all the way to his base, his balls slapping at your now slick spread thighs. He rubs over the red handprint he had just left on your ass. You whimper and bite your lip, truly enjoying the sensation.

Still staring into the mirror as Harry commanded, your eyes water slightly and Harry makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You smile widely and he grins back. “This feels so fucking good. Your pussy takes me so well. Fuck…” Harry babbles, still pistoning into you. You had noticed how vocal he was the first time you had fucked, but thought it had just been the alcohol. Apparently not. But you didn’t mind, you much preferred it to partners who barely spoke or didn’t even moan. Like how were you supposed to know what was going on in their minds? With Harry, you knew he was having a good time.

A few more heavy thrusts and you felt yourself nearing the edge. Your panting was getting faster, exceeding the speed of Harry’s thrusts and he could also feel you were close. Your cunt began squeezing him tighter so he hooked a hand under your knee and brought it onto the table. He hunched over you slightly and snaked his hand to your clit. “C’mon darling, I know you're close. Can feel that little cunt putting a choke hold on my cock.” He rubs at your clit with the vigor of strumming a quick paced song on the guitar. It’s enough to overtake your senses and the laugh that had bubbled from his words turns into your orgasm moan. You try to muffle it into the arm that is holding you against the mirror to avoid a full on scream because it feels that good. You felt like you were having your first ever orgasm, it felt that new to you.

A few more thrusts and you’ve come down from it, but Harry still hasn’t finished. It’s your turn to be the partner coaxing the other to get off. “Faster, Har. Want you to cum too.” He grunts, picking back up the pace. He had slowed to let you ride out your stay. “That’s it...want you to cum in me. Your cock feels so fucking good.” You whine, meaning every word. He smiles again at you and closes his eyes, focusing on chasing his high. You watch as his smile widens to that open mouth grin, “Fuck,” he almost whispers. And there it is. There’s a twitch in his hips that mirrors his expression and then he’s pulling out and cumming on your back. His voice is now even lower and raspier than before as he babbles how good that was and how tight your pussy was. It was sweet nothings, but extremely explicit and you sighed heavily, feeling a small orgasm wash over you again. His final thrusts and voice pushing you off the cliff again easily.

The two of you take a minute to bring your breathing back to normal and Harry goes to clean your back off.

“So..how do you feel about maybe doing this regularly?”  Harry asks sheepishly as he begins to pull his pants back on.

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing? Or bandmates with benefits, rather.” You laugh breathlessly at your not really funny joke, but you’re now truly exhausted. From the show and the fuck, you felt thouroughly worked out.

“I guess that’s what it is, yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“You’re honestly so chill, Y/N. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

You laugh and flip your hair dramatically. You’re only in your bra and panties right now and Harry licks his lips, finding your playfulness to be a turn on. “What can I say?” You laugh.

“But like I said before...it’s just sex.” He’s buttoning up his shirt and looking at your reflection through the mirror now. He watches you slip the pants you had been wearing back on.

“Oh, Harold, I know.” On cue, he groans and turns around to face you after fixing his mused hair in the mirror. Interrupting yourself, you turn your back to Harry, “Can you tie this, sorry it’s hard for me to get the -” Harry walks to you without any hesitation and begins tying the silk ribbons on the back of your shirt. “Thanks. Anyway,” you turn to face him when he’s finished and you place both of your palms on his chest. “Trust me, I know you’ve got your issues and I’m not looking to be the girl that tries to change you. I know what this is. I only ask that you let me know when you sleep with other people, because once you do, you won’t need me.” Harry nods and you pat your hands against him. You both smile and go your separate ways when you leave the dressing room.

-

Harry and you fucked almost every night on tour. Sometimes it was right after, on the counter in his dressing rooms. Sometimes it was later in the evening in his hotel room or yours. He stopped leaving immediately after your hook ups. He never kicked you out of his room so he decided it was fine for him to stay in yours. Especially because you weren’t a stranger who would be weird with him in the morning. He also didn’t like trekking through the hotel halls late at night.

The first few times you stayed in the same bed, the two of you stayed on opposite sides of the bed, not touching after you were finished engaging in your sexual endeavours. Rigid bodies against the edges of the mattress. Then one particularly long night, filled with multiple rounds, Harry was so exhausted from his performance on stage and off that he collapsed on top of you. He fell asleep there and you didn’t particularly mind. It felt nice to be slightly compressed and held. He shifted in his sleep and when he woke up he wasn’t upset to find you nestled into his side with his arms wrapped around you. After that, cuddling sort of became part of the routine. After you were done having sex, Harry or you would get up to clean up and bring back waters. Then you would settle in his arms. Sometimes in a spooning position and sometimes you cradled softly into his chest. You didn’t talk about it, it just happened.

One night it was your head directly on top of his butterfly tattoo, one leg thrown over his lower torso and your arm snuggly wrapped around his middle. He liked to pet your hair when you laid against his chest in that way. His fingers would fiddle with the strands and you liked it because he usually took off his rings before he would do it and his hands felt so soft and delicate against you. Harry liked the way he felt when he would hold you afterwards. It was calming to fall asleep against your soft skin and feel your fingertips trace lyrics to songs he wasn’t sure the name of against his own.

No one knew about how your friendship with Harry worked. To the rest of the world, you seemed to be someone who had become another close friend in the band. You were similar to Mitch in many respects. Except for when Harry winked at you during a show, it wasn’t a friendly wink, it was a ‘this song makes me horny and I can’t wait to relieve the pressure by fucking you later’ kind of wink. You knew this because Harry had gone over and whispered it in your ear during a quick break, when you had only looked at him weirdly after he did it.

Before the show tonight, you pulled Harry aside, “So what are we thinking tonight? I feel like I might want to ride you...Haven’t been on top in a while.” In the darkness of the backstage, you crane your neck to take Harry’s earlobe between your teeth. He groans softly and grips your hips to guide them against his for a second. “Sounds fuckin’ fantastic, love.” You twitch back, releasing him immediately at the word. You always told him not to call you that and he tried to reason with you, that it was just something he called people. But you disliked it a lot, adding it to the growing list of rules the pair of you had for the do’s and don'ts of being friends with benefits with each other.

“Harold,” you groan and he steps back at that pet name. While he hated this, you refused to let him put it on the list because it didn’t cross any lines with your physical arrangement. Not that there was any physical list to put it on, it was more of a theoretical list that the two of you would speak of occasionally.

“Sorry.” He says eventually, “Didn’t mean it.” You both laugh.

You think about how other relationships were sometimes desperate to hear their partner express their love for them and you believe you’re grateful for the simplicity of your arrangement. The term relationship regarding what you and Harry were doing was also in the ‘don’t’ category on the list. If either of you were being honest, there should be no need for a list and you should be questioning yourselves why you felt the need to set boundaries if one part of it was physical and the other part was your friendship and job. If it truly was just physical why were boundaries constantly needing to be set and followed? But right now honesty was not in the cards.

-

After the show Harry gets delayed with press or fans or something that you don’t really care about. You barely read the text that he sends, only caring about the ‘sorry got held up’ and the ‘be there in thirty’.

You let yourself into his room and wait on the bed, flipping through your phone, completely unbothered by the rest of the world. When you hear a knock on the door, you don’t think twice about getting up and opening the door. You only realize your terrible mistake when it’s Mitch and not Harry standing at what you’re also just realizing isn’t your door, but instead Harry’s.

“Shit!” you say under your breath as Mitch looks at you confused.

The room is dark behind you because Harry would have just entered and gotten down to business. He might turn on a side lamp, but you hadn’t felt the need to have light on while you waited. Forgetting all of that, you had just gone to the door and opened it.

Mitch tucks some of his hair behind his ear as he stares at you. “Is Harry here?”

“Er..No?” It comes out as a question. You rub the back of your ankle with your foot, feeling nervous.

“Is he actually not here or?” Mitch trails off, narrowing his eyes at you.

“No, no he’s really not here. I’m waiting for him, too.” You rush your words, but try to remain calm.

“You have a key to his room. And you’re waiting in the dark.” He says. They’re not questions and you’re not sure just how guilty you look.

“Yeah!” You try to come up with a non suspicious response, hoping there’s a way to still salvage your’s and Harry’s secret, “He gave me his key because he wanted to talk about something and I kept it dark because my eyes always hurt after shows. Kind of like a migraine.” You scratch at your head and smile, trying to convince Mitch. He seems to believe you as he nods slowly and opens his eyes more.

There’s a little bit of an awkward silence and Mitch shifts his weight between his feet, looking at you still. Just as you're about to invite Mitch to come wait inside with you, Harry steps out of the elevator and begins to walk down the hall. His key card is already in hand and your eyes widen. Harry’s expression mirrors yours when he realizes Mitch is standing outside of his door and that you are standing with him. “Mitch!” Harry says, placing his hand on Mitch’s shoulder and sliding his key card into his back pocket with the other. Mitch turns to Harry without seeing him put away the other key card and you look at the pair of them.

“I was just telling Mitch how you gave me your key card so we could talk about...that thing.” You interject, flicking the lights on in Harry’s room as casually as possible. Harry shoots you a look about how you couldn’t come up with an actual reason for being there. You shrug your shoulders helplessly.

Mitch looks between the two of you and feels some weird tension and he’s not sure if it's always there and he’s just noticing or if something is going on right now.

“Yeah, well, I came to stop by to talk about the riff in Canyon Moon. Something is wonky with it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Harry nods to Mitch and then glances at you, “Y/N, we can talk about that other thing later. It’s not that important anyway.” His tone is so casual and nonchalant. You stare at him, thinking he can’t be serious. You had been almost sure he would send Mitch away, but instead you were being kicked to the curb. When he doesn’t say sike or anything of the sort, you nod. “Okay,” then you mumble a ‘good luck’ with figuring out the problem with the song. Mitch walks in the door, but Harry’s eyes stay fixed on your figure retreating down the hallway. He watches you disappear and is only pulled from his thoughts when Mitch calls his name from the couch in the room.

After reaching your floor, you key into your room and get ready for bed. Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, completely alone for once in a long time, there’s another knock. This time you check the peephole, a habit you realized you were going to have to get better at. It’s Harry. You open the door and walk away immediately once he’s entered the room.

“Why are you here?”

“Thought we could still...” He follows you into the room, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“I’m not in the mood anymore.” Your tone gives away your annoyance. You couldn’t hide that you were mad at Harry for sending you away. It made you feel weird. The way he did it so easily made you feel like you were extremely disposable and unwanted.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs as he lays down beside you. You turn to face him when he places a hand on the small of your back. You’re face to face and your noses are almost brushing. It’s not really possible to see each other’s features, but after months of hooking up you knew each other’s faces pretty well. You could reach out and pinpoint all of Harry’s freckles and moles on his face and neck right now and be correct. He could likely do the same. The theory is proven correct when he reaches out and his hand dances down your cheek. “Just thought it would be less suspicious if I didn’t get rid of him. Couldn’t make him wait either…”

“I know,” your voice is small and soft, just above a whisper, “I forgive you.” You scoot closer to him and Harry instinctively wraps his arm around you, bringing you tightly into him. You sigh into his neck and he shivers at your warm breath on his slightly clammy skin. When you lick your lips, they brush lightly against his skin. He laughs at the feeling, so you decide to press an intentional kiss to the hollow in his neck. In response, he presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips slightly chapped after the concert.

The kisses are tender, filled with that thing neither of you dare attribute to anything the two of you did in the dark. The word you told him time and time again to not call you. So is just about every touch and word that has been exchanged in this room since Harry entered it. You fall asleep wrapped up in his arms, a soft smile resting on both of your faces. Neither of you seem to mind that you didn’t actually have sex tonight or anything even close to it.

-

When you wake up you feel especially well rested. You shift around and realize your bed is empty besides you. It depended on the day, but it was always a toss up between Harry being there when you woke up or not. However, lately, you had found it was usually the former. You would linger longer and so would Harry in each other’s rooms, lounging in each other’s embrace under the soft glow of the morning light peaking through whatever windows the room had. Today you were cold at his absence. Then you look up and realize you aren’t completely alone. Harry is standing at the end of your bed, staring down at his phone, smiling.

“Hey.”

You wait for his reply, but he doesn’t look up from his phone. “Hey, Harold,” you repeat. His head snaps up, a grimace on his face at the name. He slips his phone in his pocket and ruffles his hair. “Hey.” He finally responds. “I’m gonna head out.”

“Okay.”

Neither of you seem to find it necessary to talk about what happened last night. Harry definitely seemed a little off to you this morning, but you try to shake it from your thoughts. There was no reason to be upset with him being quiet. He didn’t owe you anything, you hadn’t even slept together last night, so if anything it was weird he stayed as long as he did.

It was the second night at the Forum in Los Angeles. This means no travelling necessary. No day off either, tomorrow you’d have a day off before the third and final show at the venue though.

Harry and you were talking normally at the venue, mostly about the setlist - him and Mitch had changed something for whatever reason last night, which was fine. Your banter was to a minimum, but you were trying to convince yourself that nothing was off. Even though it felt like something was different, you couldn’t place your finger on what it was, so you thought it was best to ignore it.

When Harry is about to go out on stage, you don’t pull him aside and when he introduces the members of the band to the audience, he doesn’t say anything fun or silly about you. He doesn’t wink or come up to you at any point in the performance. It’s so unusual the rest of your bandmates are giving you funny looks. Charlotte looks at you from across your keyboard in a way that she’s asking if you’re okay. You shake your head at everyone trying to signal that you’re fine.

Mitch goes over to Harry and whispers in his ear to check in with him, Harry looks at him with a bright smile on his face and says “of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Mitch looks between the pair of you, thinking back to last night and how weird the pair of you were being then. Maybe it dawns on him then what might be going on between the two of you, but if he did, he wouldn’t mention it for a long time.

You falter a bit on your back up vocals tonight. You’re trying to give it your all, like always, but for some reason your voice isn’t sounding the way you want it. About halfway through the show, when your voice comes out the exact opposite of how you would like, Harry finally gives you a second glance. His face practically emotionless, save for the single arched brow. He’s concerned, but not concerned enough where he would go over to you. He just doesn’t understand why you keep missing the right note tonight. You make a shake of your hand to say I don’t know either. He just shrugs and turns back around to continue the show, his lively smile returning while he turns his head.

After the show, Charlotte, Sarah, and you are all checking in, going over what had happened during the show in general. They’re both worried about your voice and you’re simply trying to tell them that it was just an off night. Nothing was wrong. As long as you told everyone else that, then it might turn out to be true.

“It’s fine, maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” you fib, having gotten more sleep last night than most other nights on this tour. They both nod, seeming to take that as a reasonable answer.

Then Charlotte gets quieter as she whispers to the three of you, “Did you guys notice anything weird with Harry? He was super lively, but he barely interacted with you, Y/N, which is so unlike him...”

Sarah nods while you look skeptically on. Sarah adds, “He kept looking up to the boxes, too. More than usual at least. I don’t know though…” She trails off and you cross your arms over your chest, not really enjoying the conversation topic. “I mean, what do you think, Y/N?” Sarah adds.

Your eyes dance between the two women, your fellow bandmates, your friends. You sometimes wished you could share with them what you were doing with Harry. The secret was fun, but it’s also nice to be able to share with your girlfriends about the guy you’re seeing, even if it is a casual thing. The friendly gossip of it all is something fun to share, but sadly that was another thing you couldn’t do. You sigh, “You never really know what’s going on in his mind, y’know. He’s just Harry.” Your response is half-assed at best. You figure they’ll both give you shit for the non-answer you just supplied, but instead someone else speaks for them.

“I am in fact, just Harry.” He says and you swivel around to find yourself almost chest to chest with him. Charlotte laughs while Sarah simply smiles. Your eyes are huge as you stare up at him and you hope your blush doesn’t come out too strongly after being caught talking about Harry by himself. “Enlighten me on when I was being ‘just Harry’ though?” You bite your lip and take a step back from him, forming more of a line with the other women. He shrugs when no one offers a response, laughing lightly.

“Oh and Y/N, I can’t talk about that thing again tonight, I’ve got-”

“A date?” Charlotte asks, trying to understand why Harry was acting a little different tonight still. The part that Sarah had mentioned about him looking up into the boxes had given her the idea that he might have plans with someone after the show. Harry scratches his head, his hair slightly wet with sweat right after the show. He’s taken off his coat so he’s just in the almost completely unbuttoned, sweat soaked shirt he had been wearing underneath. It sticks tight to his skin and you can make out all the muscle lines that hide beneath the fabric that you usually get to caress. Your eyes flit from his body back to his face when he speaks again.

“Erm, I wasn’t going to phrase it like that...but yes, I suppose, it’s a date.” He says finally, he avoids your eye contact and you look at him very confused, trying to hide the hurt. He shoves his hands in his pockets trying to look and sound as casual as possible and ignore the strain he sees on your face. Is that what had held him up yesterday? Making plans with someone else? And he hadn’t told you until now? The past twenty four hours stung a little bit more now that you knew why Harry was being so distant. It simply felt icky finding out this way and it didn’t even seem like he was going to tell you it was a date.

“Okay,” you say simply and walk away. You hear Charlotte asking him details about his date, but you try actively not to hear any of it. Sarah watches you walk away and sees the way you wrap your arms around yourself to comfort you. She feels a twinge of sadness as she watches the scene unfold, seeing something she hadn’t realized was there before.

Harry doesn’t text or call you that night. You hang out with everyone else for a little while in Charlotte’s room before heading to bed, saying you think you need an early night tonight. Before you’re able to walk out of the door, Mitch stops you. “I heard Harry blew off whatever conversation the two of you have been trying to have again. Just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” You try to smile but it comes out as more of a grimace. There is no conversation Harry is blowing off, it’s simply you. “It’s fine. Like he said yesterday, it’s not important.” Mitch nods, but still looks at you with concern. What he had seen last night, then on stage today, and what Sarah had told him about your interaction after the show it all strung together in his mind. It didn’t seem unimportant at all. But he didn’t know how he could tell you that. He felt like he should talk to Harry about the way you looked when you left Charlotte’s room tonight, but he didn’t know how to bring it up to him either.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you're in the elevator, and it’s slowly rising to your floor of the hotel. You’re only one level up, but it feels like an eternity in there. You already weren’t a fan of elevators, but this ride felt impossibly worse. The walls are all made up of mirrors and you see yourself in the reflection, but you don’t exactly recognize the girl in there. Your eyes are tired from the show, dark circles already formed. Your hands are aching, clenching and unclenching on their own accord. Your body is slumped against the back wall, likely leaving a slight imprint from the smoke residue and dust on your clothes. Worst of all are the tears running down your face, smudging at your makeup, the black mascara you had applied dripping down in sinister raindrops against your skin. The sad girl stares back at you as you sniffle slightly, confused at what you’re seeing. “Why are you crying?” you ask yourself, your voice creaking and then breaking at the end as you struggle to get out the word ‘crying’ before a sob wracks through you. You roll your eyes when your reflection offers no explanation for itself. You laugh at your own patheticness and try to shake the feelings you’re experiencing.

Inside your room now, you flop on the bed and stare straight up at the ceiling. Your arms spread to your sides and your legs lay limply below you. You think about every night before last, every night since the tour started. Every night where you weren’t alone, where you were with Harry. Your mind flits to last night, how Harry’s lips had ghosted over your skin after his apology. How you had told him you forgave him and it had felt so peaceful, so simple. It was all so easy. Thinking about him and the things the two of you did together brought a smile to your face, unbeknownst to you. When you realize it’s there, your face drops immediately, deciding not to think about Harry.

But trying to not think about Harry makes you only think about him more and what you think about him now most definitely doesn’t bring a smile to your face. You’re thinking about him out on his date with some person you chose to learn nothing about. Maybe out of fear of what is happening right now. By knowing nothing about the person, you can’t compare yourself to them. Can’t see what’s different about them that would make Harry go out on a date with them. But it doesn’t matter who they are or what they look like because at the end of it all you know one thing for certain. They’re not you. You correct yourself, you know two things actually, because you also know that Harry chose to be with them instead of you tonight.

You fall asleep with tear stained cheeks that night and absolutely nothing positive on your mind. You want to sleep but know it only brings whatever is bound to happen tomorrow, which doesn’t seem very promising.

-

It’s noon when you wake up and you wake to a knocking on your door. You grumble and throw a sweatshirt over your body to hide the underwear you slept in. Not remembering your new habit, you swing the door open without any hesitation to find Harry. He looks wide awake and happy, the way he almost always looks, a fresh beautiful flower of a man. You look at him groggily, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Because I was asleep?” You tilt your head and look at him incredulously. “What about this,” you gesture to your appearance, “looks like I just went for a 3 mile jog for fun and I love the morning?”

“Can I come in?” He ignores everything you just said and enters the room when you leave the door to get back in bed. You often did that with him, you don’t know why, but when he asked to come in the room it was just simpler to let him in then say anything. He knew what you meant.

He sits at the edge of the bed as you reclaim your spot in the middle of it, tucked slightly under the covers, but still sitting up. “How was your date?” You try to sound nonchalant and it seems to work. Harry doesn’t notice your tense figure, but you notice how he tenses up when you ask.

“Good…Her name was-” You don’t let him finish, you already know the answer to this next question and you don’t need her name in order to ask it, “Did you fuck her?”

He’s silent, green eyes staring straight at you. You meet his gaze, your eyes almost burning holes into him. His eyes are begging you to not make him answer the question, he doesn’t want this to end, even if he also didn’t want the commitment he had felt himself exhibiting the other night.

When he had come to your room the other night after Mitch had almost caught you, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed. He didn’t want you to feel bad so he had come to apologize, but when the pair of you didn’t have sex, he should have left. But he didn’t, he stayed and it wasn’t for you, it was for himself. It was for him to hold you in his arms because he liked to. But when he woke up the next morning he knew he needed to leave. Solely cuddling wasn’t part of your arrangement together. It’s probably on the list of don'ts that the pair of you had. So after he realized the line he had willingly crossed with you, he quickly sent a text to Jeff who had tried to set him up with a model they were acquaintances with the night before - the reason he had gotten held up. Harry had initially declined, not very interested in seeing anyone else but you. But looking back on that choice in the light of day seemed to solidify what this relationship was - a relationship - and Harry didn’t like that. The commitment wasn’t part of the plan, so he told Jeff to set that date up for after the second show at the Forum and give the woman a ticket. That’s why he was smiling at his phone the morning after only cuddling with you, that’s why he didn’t joke around with you during the show, and that’s why he wasn’t in your bed last night.

You watch him expectantly, silently waiting for his answer, your veins cold as ice. He finally starts his answer and he wants to make it clear that it wasn’t as good with the other woman, but he’s not sure how to work that part in. He’s not sure how to explain to you it meant nothing if your arrangement also apparently meant nothing. You barely even let him get in a sentence. “Yes, but it was just a one time-”

“Alright.”

“What?” He doesn’t understand what you mean when you nod your head and cut him off.

“I told you at the beginning, Harry. Tell me when you sleep with someone else because when you do this is over. It doesn’t matter if she’s the love of your life or a one night stand. I will not be a backup plan, so if you’re able to find other people to sleep with, you don’t need to be sleeping with me.”

He sits in silence for a moment, his jaw dropped open slightly. He’s unable to keep it shut as his mind races about what to say. “Are you mad with me?”

“No, I’m fine. This was just sex. Charlotte will be happy that I’ll be going out with her more.”

Harry’s brow furrows as you shift away from him on the bed, grabbing your phone and beginning to flick through it. You feel numb and you’d like to not think about why.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks because he does care about you, worry is written all over his face. He just can’t commit, not now.

“What would I be mad about, Harry?” You look up and your eyes widen at him, silently asking him to truthfully say why you should be so upset about this revelation. You always knew it would eventually come to an end, you just hadn’t expected so soon. You hadn’t known the last time would be the last time and it broke your heart even if you knew it shouldn’t.

He shifts to reach his hand out to touch your exposed knee. You move away from him and he sighs, looking exasperated. “I- I don’t know. It just seems like we should talk about this.”

“You didn’t even think it was necessary to tell me you were going on a date last night, so I think it’s best if we just left it at ‘it’s fine, see you around’.”

He spreads his hands out across the sheets, examining his rings and painted nails thoroughly. You’re right, he doesn’t really want to talk about this. Well, more so, he’s conflicted. He would like to talk enough that you want to continue your arrangement but he doesn’t want to talk about feelings or emotions. Even if he has those feelings and emotions, they’re just not part of the things he’d like to talk about. “But-” You set your phone down at his first word, “Were you even going to tell me you fucked someone else today if Charlotte hadn’t asked you if it was a date last night? Would you just have come to my room tonight and acted like nothing had changed?”

“I would have told you.”

“Sure.”

“I swear I would’ve. I would never break a promise to you.”

“But you would make a decision that affects the both of us without telling me until afterwards?” Your voice breaks a little and you beg yourself not to cry right now.

“I thought you said this was just sex?”

You laugh humorlessly, in disbelief, “Of course it’s not, Harry! And it hasn’t been for a long time and that’s why you got scared and went and fucked someone else.” He looks at you blankly, unsure what to say, knowing you’re right. You continue, “But I also told you at the beginning of this, that I wasn’t going to try to change you. So this is me not trying to change you.” You sigh when he still says nothing, his expression completely unreadable, even to you. “Why couldn’t you have left it at ‘it’s fine’?” You say finally, barely above a whisper.

He blinks a few times after your final question. He flexes his hand one more time and then stands up from the bed. He adjusts his clothes and stares at you. You feel helpless, but you’re still trying to look pulled together, even after your outburst. You stare back. A thousand words floating through your heads, all the things you want to say and likely never will.

“I know, I’m…” he pauses, trying to get himself to say it, but he can’t. He can’t admit that he’s completely ruined whatever messed up paradise you had created together. “I’ll see you later.”

The apology or lack there of hangs in the air as he walks silently out your door. You don’t move, you barely even blink, still staring at the spot he had just occupied. Your breath finally escapes you, a large sigh. Then some nervous laughter. It was over...just like that. But things like this, left like this are never really over.

-

It’s awkward for a good amount of the rest of the tour. You hang out with your bandmates more and Harry rarely ever comes out with them after the shows. He either hangs out with Mitch on his own or is going out with random people he knows on the road. You and him speak, but it’s never a lot or about anything relatively meaningful. It’s not the fun back and forth of before or the fiery heat of sneaking around. You try to be normal with him, act like his casual friend and bandmate.

He does his best to do the same, but it’s difficult for him. He doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore. He misses being with you, but can’t bring himself to fix it. He doesn’t do much to right his wrongs with you. He also doesn’t even know what he would want if he did apologize. It scared him to think about the step that came after ‘sorry’ so he saved himself the trouble and never did that part either. One night he texts you: “I’m trying, it’s just hard.” and that’s it. You don’t give him a response, he doesn’t need one. You know he’s trying and he knows you know.

Near the end of the tour, he comes out with the rest of you for drinks one night. Only Mitch is between the two of you in the booth, so you feel closer to Harry than you’ve felt in a long time. The group of you are chatting and having a good time. You somehow get onto a story from when you were still in college. You explain how you had narrowly avoided getting Chlamydia right before your Christmas break junior year. You act out the conversations you imagined would have happened at all your Christmas events if you had indeed gotten it. Your impressions of your mother, father, and sister have everyone laughing the most. Harry is shaking with laughter from your story and you smile at him in appreciation when he says, “That is the funniest story I’ve heard in a long fucking time.”

The rest of the night goes really well, for the most part. No one bickers or is short with each other. Everyone is laughing and drinks are flowing. Eventually Mitch gets up to go to the bathroom and you feel Harry slide back into the booth closer to you after letting Mitch out. Your hand had taken up residence next to your thigh, resting on the vinyl of the booth. You sense something next to it now and notice Harry’s hand is resting close beside it. He shifts his hand closer when he sees that you’re looking down at it. He’s almost touching you and you look up to his eyes, wondering if he’ll close the distance. He makes an imperceptible shake of his head, but you know what he means. As you’re about to shift your hand so that your pinky connects with his, Mitch returns and your head shoots up to his figure. You instantly remove your hand from the vinyl and shift closer to Charlotte. Harry gets up, but doesn’t sit back down once Mitch is settled. He instead walks off to get another drink, risking one last look at the table where he makes eye contact with you, but he doesn’t come back. Mitch informs everyone that Harry went back to the hotel because “he was tired” after Harry doesn’t return and Mitch gets a text. You roll your eyes, sure that you saw him slip out of the side door with a woman he found at the bar after he had gotten his drink. If that’s what ‘tired’ looked like on Harry, it was fine.

You start to speak to Harry on a more regular basis after that night out. It’s not funny or lighthearted. It’s just ‘I saw this song the other day, thought you might like to listen’. It went back and forth, it wasn’t everyday but it was something. The last text between the two of you before you began sharing songs again was his ‘I’m trying it’s just hard’ text that he had sent randomly one night. Then after one of you would listen, you would see each other at sound check and mention the song and what you thought about it. It can be noted that it was Harry who sent the first song.

For Harryween, Adam couldn’t be there. He has some family emergency the day of and doesn’t come with the rest of you to Madison Square Garden or the hotel you were staying at. Thankfully, Charlotte also plays keys and you can play bass. The band had to shift around some things on stage and make minimal changes to the setlist since you weren’t rehearsed on the covers Harry was doing. You spent the whole day running through the chords of those songs with Mitch, trying to memorize them so you didn’t mess it up during the show.

It was weird because for Harryween the setlist was switched up a little from the regular set for Love On Tour. Harry was playing the entire new album as well as half of the first album, Medicine, some of his other unreleased stuff, and about six covers, including old One Direction songs. It was going to be a long show and a challenge for you.

Before the show, Harry pulls you aside, to a dark corner backstage, and your mind flits back to the last time you had been in this type of position. The last time he had called you ‘love’, the last time you bit his earlobe - which always drove him crazy, the last time he ground his hips against yours, those and more and you had no idea that it was the last. By then you had already had sex with Harry for the last time, kissed his lips for the last time. It made your heart race to be so close to him and so alone once again. But it’s nowhere near the same as it once was. You shake the memories from your mind and look up expectantly at him.

“Have you got this?” He asks seriously, tone concerned. Of course it’s a music question, nothing more. Like it always was now.

“Yeah, of course.” His stare is unwavering and you try not to falter from it.

“I can get someone else to cover tomorrow, it was just such a short notice today. You know bass really well too, it made sense.”

“I’ve got this. Seriously, don’t worry, Harold.” You pat his chest lightly and for once Harry smiles at the sound of your nickname for him. You had stopped using it after the end of your arrangement. It never felt right to use when you were talking about music, and that was about the only time you had been talking. In this moment though, it felt right. His warm, large hands held your upper arms as you stared up into his big eyes. You missed staring into them, the shimmering emerald of his irises were constantly intriguing. You instinctively reach up to move back a curl that has fallen onto his forehead. He doesn’t shy away from your touch and continues to smile down at you.

“Y’haven’t called me that in forever.” He grins, his lips a shiny pink from the lip balm he had on.

“No, I suppose I haven’t. But where was the groan? The whole point is to annoy you.” You smile coyly. He tips his head back and laughs, releasing your arms from his grasp as he laughs wholeheartedly.

Then he does a soft groan, a playful sound, “How was that?”

“Eh. I’ll give you a four out of ten. Not enough emotion behind it.” You slide from the area the two of you have been occupying and make your way onto the stage to start dealing with the bass you would be playing. You hear Harry call out to you, “I think I deserve at least a five, maybe even a six!” You turn back for a second to look at him with an unimpressed expression and shake your head no. He laughs again and you hear him even when you walk out onto the stage. You smile to yourself as you pick up the bass.

When he introduces the band, he waits to talk about you last. “And sadly this evening Mr. Adam Prentergest, our usual fabulous bassist, was unable to attend our fancy dress party! However! Our lovely Y/N L/N is also a superb bassist and was kind enough to step into his place. - Anything to add?” He saunters across the stage to you and you laugh kindly, feeling at ease in this part of the stage even though you were usually on the opposite side and further back from the crowd. You nod at Harry and he leans his portable mic towards your lips. You wet them quickly and eye Harry before turning out to the crowd. “Just please go easy on me if the bass sounds a bit wonky. It wasn’t on the job description that I’d be playing songs I didn’t know, with a few hours notice, on not my main instrument.” You say this in a kind of list format, holding up your fingers as you tick off all the ways that this was out of your comfort zone. You scratch your head dramatically after you’re finished and the whole crowd laughs and cheers. The rest of your bandmates chuckle along and Harry nods and smiles at you.

“You’ll do great, love.” He leans into your ear and says without the microphone. Then he winks and turns to go back to the center of the stage. You press your lips together to contain your smile, both happy and concerned about the flip your stomach just did.  

The show is going great. Harry is killing it with the crowd. Everything is electric. You’re entirely focussed on your bass playing, but Harry has been coming over every so often to do something fun or have you tell a joke.

“She’s truly the funniest person I know! And I know a fair amount of people I think.” Harry says as he walks over to you have you tell another joke. Mitch has been looking at you and Harry interacting all night and he’s sure that it isn’t your different position that has him coming over and talking to you so much tonight. Something has definitely changed once again. First the pair of you were always together and having fun, then it was silence and stolen glances that neither of you realized you were taking, now it was back to the beginning.

“That’s because you think puns are part of the top tier levels of comedy.” You say easily, “Here, I can guarantee Harry will love this and the rest of you will likely groan.” Then you stop and act as if you’re thinking for a little, everyone’s waiting expectantly. “Sorry, thinking...Well, I’ve got some skeleton puns I could do, they’re very humerus or y’know classic vampire ones..eh but those ones kind of suck. What do you think, Harry?” You look out at the crowd, face deadpan, as Harry laughs beside you. You roll your eyes playfully and push him back to the center of the stage. Leaning into your own mic now, you say, “I told you.” That’s when everyone laughs. Harry throws another look at you over his shoulder and laughs a little more, his smile wide and eyes bright.

A little over half way through the night, it’s time for ‘to be so lonely’. You already knew the bass chords for it before today and you were confident in yourself by now. It wasn’t as hard a song so you were happy for the little break. This song allowed you to not be looking down at the notes you had stuck to the floor in front of you. Harry’s voice comes in after Mitch’s intro and you watch the way his lips move against his mic. You laugh a little as you watch the crowd yell the first “arrogant son of a bitch” line. You used to not particularly like when people did that, but after it had ended with Harry you had started to enjoy it a bit more. Having those people yell the words you couldn’t, but truly felt about him sometimes, was cathartic. Tonight you weren’t angry with him, but you enjoyed the energy in the room when everyone said it. We’ve all got our own ‘arrogant son of a bitch’ that we want to scream at sometimes. Tonight yours wasn’t Harry for the first time in a long time. The song moves along and Harry takes the microphone off its stand, he walks towards your side of the stage. When the lyrics get to:

“I miss the shape of your lips, your wit, it’s just a trick, this is it so I’m sorry”

Harry isn’t looking at the crowd, he’s looking straight at you. You don’t understand the way he’s looking at you. Or maybe you don’t want to understand it. This song, its lyrics, explains Harry really well. You saw the relationship you had with him in the words. Maybe not precisely, but a part of it was in it. Harry had unknowingly foretold your lives with his words. You know he has trouble connecting and committing, you know his issues, and you accept them. But you knew what had happened between the two of you was far more serious than meaningless sex and you knew Harry couldn’t bring himself to be that serious. He ran off and that was fine, but the face that he couldn’t even apologize hurt you the most. But the song lays it all out for you, he’s not one to be able to apologize quickly. The fact that he looks at you and means the apology he sings in the song for you, it’s a big step, but it’s not enough. The banter, the technical apology, it was all a good start, but it’s just that - the beginning. If Harry wants to make things better with you, a lot more needs to be discussed. So when you sing backing vocals for the following chorus you mean the words for Harry completely.

“Don’t call me baby again, you got your reasons, I know that you’re trying to be friends. I know you mean it, but don’t call me baby again it’s hard for me to go home and be so lonely”

His eyes flick to you again and see your lips moving around the words as you play the bass. He sees the emotion in your face and understands what you’re saying. It’s hard for you to go to your room at night and be alone while he’s out with someone else. It’s hard for him to act like everything’s all fine and perfect, back to normal, because for you it isn’t really. He can’t call you ‘love’ and tell the world you’re funny and expect it to be enough. He can’t sing his sorry that was initially for someone else to you and expect you to accept it. And he knows it, too.

After the show everyone decides they’re exhausted and need to rest before tomorrow. You all planned to celebrate the whole day and you knew it was going to be a wicked Halloween. Knowing this, you’re surprised with the knock on your door after about an hour of being back at the hotel. You’ve given up the habit you had once hoped to cultivate and swing the door open haplessly. Truly having no idea who to expect, you are still surprised to find the man standing before you.

“Mitch.”

“We need to talk.” He stares down at you, his shoulders slumped from tiredness.

“Come in,” you usher him in when you hear the urgency of his voice. He saunters in before you and you close the door. You move to the small couch in the room and sit down. Your hands gesture for him to sit as well, but he shakes his head. He stays standing and brings a hand up to smooth his hair back on the right side. His eyes staying on the floor and flickering up to you every so often.

“What is going on with you and Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh come on Y/N. You’re seemingly best friends with him for a good portion of tour, then you’re barely on speaking terms for the second half, now you’re joking around again. What is going on?”

You sit there in a stunned silence, “I don’t know what to say.” Your arms go to hug your body, feeling anxious about being confronted about this topic.

“Were you seeing each other?” His voice is soft, eyes taking in your body language and knowing it’s a difficult topic.

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

He holds back the ‘I knew it’ statement because of  how sullen you look, b..ut in his mind all of the pieces he had watched unfold came to fit in a perfect puzzle. He decides to sit beside you when you don’t say anything else.

“We were having sex,” it felt weird to say it out loud, no one but you and Harry had actually known, “But it ended. I don’t know what today was...but it felt different than how it’s been.”

“Why are you so sad if it was just sex?” He places a hand on your shoulder and your tear-filled eyes meet his. “Oh…” He knows why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” You sob at his apology because he’s not the one who should be at your door apologizing. You sniffle and lean your head into his chest. He takes you into his arms and holds you as your cries become muffled sounds in his shirt.

You cry without words for a few minutes, Mitch coos some soothing words, his voice soft and kind. He was always a good shoulder to cry on for all of your bandmates, he was extremely strong and you made a mental note to thank him thoroughly when you actually were capable of forming coherent thoughts. “I’ve never told anyone before. It feels so weird even saying it out loud,” you say as you pull back from Mitch’s embrace. You're thankful his shirt is black, no tear stains can be made out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks gently, gauging your reaction. You wipe at your eyes and nod.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to start from the beginning. “Do you remember the party Charlotte had a week before we left for tour?”

Mitch nods and his eyes widen at what you’re saying as he remembers the night. “It started back then?” He’s unable to contain his incredulous question. He had suspected something, but hadn’t thought it had been going on for that long. He was truly astounded. You nod, “Well sort of,” then you go on to recount the last couple of months. All the way up until the Forum shows. “That night, when I opened Harry’s door and it was you standing there...Harry and I didn’t have anything to discuss. It was just…” Mitch nods again. He hadn’t spoken much since you had gotten into the story, wanting to let you be in charge of what you were saying and believing he could probably ask questions at the end. “Then the next night he blew me off for his date with that model and I cried in the elevator because I knew what was going to happen next.”

“So that’s when it ended?” Mitch asks when you don’t speak for a rather extended period of time.

“Yeah, the next morning he came over and I asked if they had sex and he said yes so I told him it was over.”

“But I don’t get why he went out with that model. He had told me she wasn’t his type the night before…” Your eyes shot up and looked at Mitch. His eyes widened when he realized what he said.

“What?”

“When we were talking about Canyon Moon, he mentioned that Jeff had tried to set him up with some woman but he had declined. Said he wasn’t interested. I don’t get what changed between then and the next morning.” He figured it was best to put all the cards out on the table right now. You’d be going your separate ways for a while, now that the tour was over and he had seen how unhappy both you and Harry had been over the last part of the tour.

You shift your leg to have it folded beneath you as you continue to stare at Mitch. “He came over after you and him had your meeting,”  you say quietly. Mitch hums, waiting for you to continue this time.

“He apologized for choosing you over me to talk to. Then we slept together, but we didn’t have sex...I think that’s what wigged him. It had felt too real, sleeping in the same bed with me without having sex beforehand made it feel like something more than just two people fulfilling needs.” Mitch nods and sighs heavily. He looks around the room and then back to you, taking in your full appearance. Again he feels terrible for you, how he had felt the second night at the Forum even though he hadn’t known the full story yet. “Now we’re here.”

“Tonight, it felt like he was trying,” Mitch finally said and you smiled sweetly, thinking back to Harry’s behavior. No matter how far from him you were, all those good feelings you associated with him never went away.

“Yeah, it’s been getting better. He texted me once saying he was trying. Then he came out with us one night and it almost seemed like that would be the night he’d apologize, but then he didn’t. Then we started sharing music with each other again. Then tonight… was tonight. It’s just confusing. He’s confusing.”

Mitch smiles sadly and brings you in for another hug and you’re actually so thankful he

showed up at your door. It was your first time telling anyone all of this, because Harry didn’t even know how you felt about some of these things. It felt amazing to be heard and to be told it was okay to be feeling like this.

Pulling back, Mitch says, “He’s definitely different. But his differences are what make him special and that’s why I think he clings to them even if they sometimes can hurt other people. The fact that he’s trying is a good sign. I hope he can find it in himself to make it right between you two because I had never seen either of you happier than when you were apparently together. Especially those few weeks leading up to Los Angeles. Sarah had kept asking me why Harry was so smiley back then. When I had asked him, he had just said “have you ever found something and realized you wanted to keep it with you forever?” I had no idea what he had meant, but I feel like he meant you now.”

Your awestruck at what Mitch has just told you. He was right about the first part about Harry trying to change, but the last bit, that’s what had left you speechless. You turn your body to face the rest of the room and put your chin against your hand as you think.

“Mitch...I have to go.”

He understands what you mean and you walk out of the door with him. He walks down the hall to his room and you walk quickly past the elevator and opt for the stairs. Before you know it you’re running up the stairs, taking two at a time even though you’re not the most athletically inclined. You can’t stand to wait for the elevator and your mind is racing.

You knock on the door that is Harry’s after reaching his floor. It swings open and reveals a confused and sleepy Harry. Thankfully he’s still fully dressed because that would have been a whole other problem you would have if he hadn’t been. You push past him and walk straight into his room without any invitation. He follows behind you, still unsure of why you’ve come here.

“Have you ever found something and realized you want to keep it forever?” You ask him, repeating the words Mitch had just told you.

“Pardon?”

“You told Mitch that about me before we ended things. If that’s how you felt, why didn’t you do what you said?”

Harry sighs as the words register in his mind. The memory of when he had smiled at Mitch so giddily and asked the vague question, his thoughts only of you as he asked it. The shit-eating grin he had plastered on his face after Mitch had looked at him confusedly flitted across his mind. As well as the way he had gone to his dressing room and had a quickie with you after that conversation.

“It’s not that simple…”

“It is, Harry! Why can’t you just be honest with me for once?”

“Okay, fine. You want me to be honest?” you nod at his harsh tone. The two of you standing only a few feet apart. “You have no goddamn idea what you do to me, when I’m around you, I have no control of my emotions or of my thoughts. I pushed you away because I didn’t like feeling out of control. I got out because what had started as a fun time had turned into me longing to be with you every waking hour. I found myself not caring what we did as long as I got to hold you and be around you, but that wasn’t part of the plan.”

“Plans can change, Harry.”

You step closer to him and he meets your eyes. He had left his music playing softly on his phone before he had opened the door so now as the two of you stared at each other, he must have been playing his Etta James playlist because her voice faded out of the song “I’d Rather Go Blind” and straight into “A Sunday Kind of Love”. Harry had shared her At Last album with you over the Christmas holiday of last year and you had decided to listen to her entire discography afterwards, so you knew the songs. The transition was a little too on the nose and you wondered if Spotify ever listened to your conversations.

His emerald eyes examine your face and take inventory of your features, measuring whether anything had changed since he had looked at you this close up. Your hand goes up to cup his cheek and he nuzzles into it, dropping his head closer to you ever so slightly and closing his eyes at the feeling of you.

“I am sorry,” he whispers earnestly as he reopens his eyes.

You can’t take your eyes off of him even if you tried. He looks so soft in the moment, so vulnerable in this light as the music swells in the corner of the room. Etta sings about how she needs a love that is going to last as the pair of you inch yourselves closer together.

“I forgive you, Harry,” you whisper back.

He nudges his head further down and your lips finally press together, slotting back together after months apart. Your lips are eager to press back against their favorite companion. You oblige them, but pull back for a second, just far enough to say, “I will always forgive you, so long as you tell me when you’re scared so we can work through it together.”

He nods, “I promise to never let you go again.” Before taking you back against his lips and gathering your body up in his arms. His lips missing yours just as much.

-

[constellaj]

This is VERY cursed but I'm morbidly curious. Can you make Phantom Planet worse?

[cracks knuckles]

danny wakes up and vlad is not the MAYOR, no, he has become PRESIDENT of the UNITED STATES of AMERICA. do not worry, this does not actually impact the plot. the masters blasters are here, the guys in white are not mentioned even once. danny has to fight using ONLY his ice powers. there is a joke where he runs out of underwear and has to wear a diaper to school. 

you see, we are not going to even foreshadow ectoranium in the beginning of this episode, it will come up randomly halfway through.

he deletes his powers, the cast treats him like he’s a selfish prick, the writing treats the cast like they’re right. not just sam, but jazz and tucker also abandon danny and danny gets his ‘comeuppance’. jack insults his own son, now with low self esteem, several times, with the line ‘you’re even more of a girly wuss than my daughter!’. jack is treated as if he is in the right because of this

maddie exists only in the episode as an object for vlad; she is not competent whatsoever. at the same time danny loses his powers she becomes enamored with vlad. this is not explained. the audience takeaway is danny made his mom fall in love with vlad (who is 30000% more creepy) by not being dead.

the first 50-60% of the episode is these shenanigans of danny being insulted and kicked around, with a healthy dose of ‘man in underwear’ and ‘woman bad’ gags. no cohesive or coherent plot, just characters being assholes, of course.

then, in the span of about 2 minutes, we are told: the disasteroid is coming, it is made of GHOSTROCK, ghostrock can kill ghosts and mute their powers, jack tried to destroy it and missed and blew up the moon, vlad and maddie are now engaged, vlad revealed his secret to maddie (but not jack), and he plans to fly her to the disasteroid so they can have their wedding. on the asteroid. hurtling towards earth. then in a triumphant display he will destroy it.

(vlad is surrounded by secret service who are all racial stereotypes.)

vlad reveals his secret to the entire planet, of course. jack is shocked. not one reference is made to molecule-by-molecule and it is treated as though jack loved ghosts like they were his family this whole time.

the asteroid shorts vlad’s powers and of course he gets launched into space. danny has to go get his powers back and save his own mom. maddie is too incompetent to save herself.

around this time of course we also make tucker the butt of some joke. how about him being a creep and then saying ‘well when the disasteroid comes at least i’ll have my pda’ or whatever the fuck. like just a cringe joke

of course danny doesnt know how to get his powers back and sam and tucker and jazz are all like ‘well we told you not to lose them, idiot, this is your fault.’ danny goes into the ghost zone to mope. don’t worry, a random ghost we’ve never seen or heard of shows up, benevolently gives him his powers, and leaves. the ghost has a chiseled jawline and dark hair and sam has a MEGA crush on him.

from now on, none of danny’s powers have any consequences. he can use the ghostly wail without reverting to human. he can shapeshift. he can duplicate as many times as he wants. it is treated as though he could always do this.

danny uses a power of mind control that he just discovered 2 seconds ago to mind control all the ghosts into helping him save the earth. he also duplicates himself a bunch and possesses humans to make them build things to save the world. this is treated as good in the writing and there are no parallels drawn to vlad rigging his own election this way. there is some blatantly homophobic joke wherein dash is confirmed gay, and is humiliated for it, and the audience is encouraged to laugh at him.

all the ghosts work together. including tucker’s ghost from what you want. including dark dan. including pariah dark. none of their appearances are explained. and of course danny reveals his entire secret to the world at the end

maddie and jack make a perfect resolution and there is a half-assed line about how she was possessed but they dont examine their marriage at all. sam and danny make out. tucker makes out with his pda, and then valerie, but like, in a weirdly toxic masculine way. paulina throws herself at dannys feet and he just goes ‘nah uh, i got a real girlfriend’ or whatever. again him shitting on her is treated as the right thing to do

(yes valerie was here and no she didnt participate at all. there are moments where she seems to be bordering on competent but, do not worry, she is beaten at every turn)

vlad still gets inexplicably crushed by an asteroid out in space instead of just going home and tucker is still made mayor of amity at 14 because i genuinely cannot think of a worse ending than that

[thunderheadfred]

🦈Kirishima HC’s🦈

Absolutely no one asked for this i just like him a lot

He’s an adult in all of these. 20s-30s at least. Some NSFW because I’m a big perv. Minors do not interact. Shoo.

- - - - -

General:

He is in the dictionary under Himbo, right next to Kronk.

Works part-time as a fitness instructor before making a name for himself as a pro hero. Most of his clients are middle-aged women, because he makes people feel safe. Before long, word gets around and he amasses this like. Loyal army of jacked housewives and older ladies who are his biggest possible fans. They mother-hen him like crazy.

Has a large and complicated extended family. Lots of cousins. You will never learn all their names, don’t even try. I have no idea if his parents have canon occupations but no matter what Horikoshi says, they actually own a mountain onsen. Kirishima went to the city by himself to go to middle/high school, his family is all off in the country somewhere and he gets homesick a lot but never admits it. He’s broke for a long time even after making it as a pro hero, because he sends most of his money back home.

He’s a dog dad. You cannot, WILL not convince me otherwise. Big dogs. Small dogs. Fancy dogs. Ugly dogs. He has a whole pack. He calls them all baby, sweetie, pupper, the worst and most embarrassing baby talk. Tells them about his day. All of his furniture is wrecked. He’s an active member in online dog groups, where he is careful to use a pseudonym and never show his face, but eventually people are going to figure out that Red Riot’s dogs look an awful lot like this one user’s....

He’s in a casual taiko group, always on the o-daiko. Loves participating in festivals and parades. He has never, ever, not once, worn a shirt while drumming. Probably has been gifted at least one antique taiko drum for his hero work, and he keeps it in his house but is too afraid to play it because it’s scary valuable “uhh it’s definitely haunted”

Regularly goes out drinking. Socially and responsibly, like clockwork, always with the same people. He’s a goddamned lightweight, and no one understands why. Will mope if he has to miss a night out at the izakaya.

So he’s clean, but sloppy. House looks like a tornado ripped through it, and nothing he owns matches. Not a single thing. I mentioned the dogs.

Will absolutely use “manly” as a replacement for “awesome,” and will constantly tell you how manly you are. Your actual gender is a non-issue. If you hang out with him for more than five minutes you’re manly as hell now.

He cries a lot? Sometimes it’s for show but he gets genuinely misty-eyed over the dumbest things. Do NOT show him pictures of puppies.

He’s good at braiding hair. His or yours. When his hair isn’t hardened, he likes doing all kinds of wacky stuff with it. He usually keeps it long enough for braids, ponies, buns, quirk-assisted faux-hawks, whatever. Mina has given him many bad ideas. He will definitely steal your hair bands and accessories, if you use them.

His fridge is just like, meat and beer. He will, if forced, consume perhaps one single vegetable. Unfortunately, his B.O. reflects this. God bless him - he showers and bathes daily, because he works out a lot and is just generally hygienic. But don’t ever touch his socks barehanded.

He wears the cheapest, most predictable cologne you can imagine, the kind that comes in an aerosol can and punches a hole in the ozone every time he sprays his pits. It smells stupidly good on him. How. so fucking manly. you kind of hate him for getting away with it.

- - - - -

And now, the 🌶 Spicy Ones 🌶

Does not date or hook up much; wants a serious relationship.

Has a tough time getting dates, weirdly. He’s still secretly insecure, but mostly he’s got rocks for brains and never knows how to flirt. He ends up friendzoning most of the people interested in him, because he is, in fact, a little too chivalrous for his own good and can never make the first move. He’s an emotional open book, but clueless romantically. I recommend being extremely straightforward. Draw him a map if you have to.

Is afraid to kiss you too deeply because of the teeth. Will take a lot of gentle encouragement to get him comfortable, but once he knows you’re safe, he’s going to be kissing you all the time. Like, too much. People are gawking, Kiri, for God’s sake.

He radiates massive doses of husband/dad energy. Will immediately marry the hell out of you. If you are capable of and willing to have his children, you are going to get extremely pregnant. Very quickly. Not necessarily a breeding kink (though why not), he just really wants to start a family with you.

He’s Big. Just huge. Tall and broad, and also... his dick is a summit and you will need to prepare for the climb. He’s had problems in the past because no, not everybody wants ALL THAT inside them. That said, if you can handle it? Woof.

Hard as a rock is No Joke with this man. Can and WILL use his quirk on his dick. If you don’t think that’s the first thing he mastered as a teenager I dont know what to tell you. Ever used a glass dildo? Well buckle up cuz it’s like if a massive glass dildo whispered sweet nothings in your ear and held you close in big strong arms and fucked you till you cried. It’s a sometimes thing. Otherwise you’d simply pass away.

He loves your brains. Your smarts and wit are a huge turn on, and he gets a boner when you use a word he doesn’t know. He also loves fucking your brains completely out, so that you cant use any words at all.

He’s a devout church-going body-worshipper. He’s so jacked that’s it’s constantly intimidating, like, how dare you stand next to this chiseled statue of a man?! but whether you love power-lifting with him or would rather die than exercise, he’s gonna treat you like the prettiest fucking piece of cake on planet earth.

Size kink ahoy; he gets his big grabby mitts on you... and you psychologically lose three feet. Doesn’t matter how tall or small or fat or thin you are, you are getting groped, squeezed, and manhandled. You didn’t even know it was possible to get thrown around like that; always onto something soft.

Not dominant. Not unless you ask very, very nicely. had a brief pushy phase at the peak of his teenage manliness obsession, unconsciously trying to be more like Bakugou, but he quickly realized controlling people wasn’t really him. It certainly isn’t very manly. Doesn’t want any toxic masculinity in his love life, even as roleplay.

That said, he can and will be a soft dom, if that’s what you want. After some practice, he’d get pretty good at it too. But his natural sexual groove is goofy, a bit awkward. Usually finds a non-sexual excuse to touch you at first; prepare to get tickled a lot. If you sit in his lap it’s all over.

If you get dominant with him, even a little, he’s gonna turn to putty in your hands. Go ahead and boss that big dumb puppy around. Nothing turns him on like seeing you get exactly what you want.

You’ll have morning wood pressed up against your ass. Every damn day. He might hump and grope you in his sleep, moaning a little. Usually it just wears off. If you wake him up to fuck, he’ll have no idea what’s going on but will be like “hell yeah i guess this is happening”

Gives oral like a starving man. Has absolutely zero reservations, because he knows his tongue and hands can’t hurt you. Will be as loud and messy as possible. If you get embarrassed or shy about it, he’s going to mumble sweet talk directly into your junk until your teeth fall out.

He’s vocal in bed. Growly. A moaning groaning disaster. He says the sweetest, gentlest things... has the cleanest dirty talk you’ve ever heard, but tenderness filtered through his bourbon-barrel chest comes out all dark and rumbly, especially when he’s close. you feel his “I love you” in your bones

He thinks making his partner cum is the manliest thing he can do. Any orgasm is good, but if you cum untouched on his dick, he’ll be riding that high for days

[mtfstuff]

Officer Jake

I always had a thing for men in uniform. Maybe its because my fit uncle wore his police uniform every day when I was litte and I could see his muscle flex underneath. Since that time I always wanted to wear one too. After I graduated I applied for becoming a police officer but they told me things that I've heard way too often: I'm too small, I'm not fit enough and so on.

I tried to fix the latter and applied again, still didnt get the job. So I became janitor at the police station.

Fast forward 30 years and I loved every day of working there. I installed small cameras everywhere overnight. I could watch them undress, shower, put on the uniform and so on. I loved seeing the hunks in uniform every day. I somewhat became family for some of them as they always greet me but even all of that is nice I still have the fantasy to wear one myself.

Of course I wont be able to do this anytime soon as I got chubby again and I still didnt grew 8ver the past decades but my fate was different.

One evening when I started to clean the hallways as every cop was already gone I heard how someone entered the building. I turned around getting ready to fight someone as I saw a beautiful cop with a arrested drug dealer. I admired his chiseled jaw, his muscles flexing underneath his black shirt, his uniform, his combat boots.

"Good to see you here.", the officer said to me."Could you watch him as I have to get some papers?"

"Of course.", I answered. This was thrilling. Being part of an arrestment.

The cop pushed the dealer towards a bank where he sat down. I had to watch him as the cop ran up the stairs towards the bureaus. I watched that twink of a dealer. He looked at his dirty shoes when he suddenly starts to talk to me.

"Arent you bored of this job?", he says.

"No, this is my first time doing something like this.", I answered.

"I mean being a janitor. Dont you want a better life? More action? I could give it to you. You'd deserve it."

I thought about his offer, it sounded too good to be true.

"What do you mean by that?", I asked.

"I could give you the life of that cop that arrested me. I saw how you looked at him. All of him could be yours. His muscles, his beard, his private life... oh, I think he has a really active private life. Just look at that beautiful hunk."

"Why wouldnt you swap with him yourself? "

"Well, I like my body as it is. If I give you his, I want something in return."

"And that is?"

"In return you let me go and this arrest never happened."

I really thought about it. I always wanted to be in that uniform. I think he saw it in my eyes as he started to smile.

"Do we have a deal?", he asked.

"Definitely."

"Good. In my front left pocket is a small pill. Take it."

I pushed my hand inside his pocket, grabbing the pill. As I took it out, I saw a blue and red colored pill.

"Twist it. You have to swallow the blue part and push the red part inside the ass of the person you want to be.", he said.

"You have to be kidding me. I'll never push it into his ass."

"I'm not kidding. Would I do something like this right before I get into prison? I dont think so."

I had no choice than to trust him. I twisted the pill and swallowed the blue part just in time as we heard the cop coming down the stairs.

"I'm back. You can go back to whatever you were doing.", the cop said to me.

He walked past me as if I was thin air towards the dealer. This was my chance.

I pushed the cop with his abs against the wall right next to the dealer and pulled his pants down. I squeezed the pill between his ass cheeks before he could even react.

He pushed me to the ground and pulled his pants back up. The dealer laughed.

"You find this funny?!", the cop screamed towards him.

"No. I find it funny what happens next.", je said.

I didnt feel a change. The dealer lied to me and now I'm getting arrested too. I had to think of this...

"And you. That was it. I'm going to arrest you too.", the cop said to me.

He came towards me as I got up from the ground but then he suddenly stopped. His eyes rolled back, revealing the white. He fell over backwards against the wall. He looked he was sleeping.

I took a step towards him as I passed out too.

The first thing I noticed was that something heavy laid on my rock hard dick. As I opened my eyes I saw my old bodies face right on my crotch. I lifted my arms to see the cops muscled arms and gloves. I was speechless, the pill worked. I pushed my old body aside and stood up. I admired and touched my new body.

I started to open my belt to see what I have down there as I heard the dealer. I totally forgot about the dealer.

"Looks like it worked. Now get me out of here.", he said.

"Yeah....yes...yes! Wait the key has to be here somewhere.", I answered.

I closed the belt again and started to search for the key in my pocket as a memory from where the cop put the key flashed through my mind.

"I have his memories? ", I shouted out loud.

"Of course. Now get me out of here."

I took the key out of my pocket and opened his handcuffs.

"Thanks, officer.", he said with a smirk.

"No, I have to thank you!", I said. "But I still have a question. What do we have to do with him?"

I point at my old body.

"Nothing. He wont remember the last30 minutes. He will live your life as if he always had it.", the dealer said and left.

I left too. I drove to my new home and had the best night ever.

I admired my muscular body and with the stamina of this body I jacked off to my uniform hanging on my wardrobe almost half of the night.

After that I looked through his memories, learning that I'm now officer Jake Pecker, best of my year. I also learned that Jake is gay, has a thing for uniforms and looks for a daddy to have a great evening.

Every now and then when I'm at work I can see my old body sometimes looking at me. I know what he wants. Maybe I hook up with him for a night so that he can live his fantasy once.