#kendall making fun of them but they keep having fun and he gets jealous and goes sulk by himself

[panelshowsource]

random thoughts dump of the week bc none of this deserves its own post

coming down from a smol john kearns kick and really enjoyed it, guy has a ridiculously sweet presence and i really like his voice. it also brings me great joy his previous career was working in museums and as a tour guide. i would like that life, i think (i worked at universal orlando for a little bit in 2013 and was always super jealous of the vip tour guides lol). he mentioned on one of his rhlstps that despite winning arguably the biggest (british) comedy awards there are, he never released a standup special or dvd, and he kinda wants to keep it that way so he has something special between him and his live audience — and that really made me sad face. like, my guy, what about those of us who can't see you bc won't leave that damn island. (also ed gamble's new tour having no nyc date felt personal...) in another episode, he talked a little about, in great part due to social media, people want comedians they can know everything about, get the whole look of; comedians who are the same people onstage as off. he's not like that and doesn't really like the idea of that. i think there's a lot to say about that subject but i'll just leave it for now...

speaking of touring ed byrne next week!!! and jimmy and alan carr coming up!! what a fun time :')

speaking of rhlstp and ed, one thing that occurred to me and i thought was quite funny upon listening to his recent episode is that both richard and ed have that self-aware side of them that admits to bitterness, professional jealousy, annoyance with critics/haters, believing they're not as successful as they deserve to be, etc. while it can come off whiney here and there, it's not too obnoxious or anything, i just found it amusing they had this (often concealed or private) quality in common. i might even put jenny eclair in that camp (others too but that's a discourse i don't really wanna start lmao)

if another youtuber, following amelia dimoldenberg (and munya? does he count?), had to go on taskmaster i would probably vote for ollie kendal off of jolly. in my mind he and alex would be genuinely good friends outside of the show

man i miss the horne section podcast so bad

honestly, i'm a little surprised david mitchell doesn't have a podcast. he loves radio, it's not too demanding of a gig, and he's got tons of interests that could make engaging premises for podcasts... i'm sure someone has floated this to him before, so i need the reason why he said no. maybe he was busy with his book. would love a history pod fr

does anyone else ever remember when david mitchell was in rick and morty and just sit back and go O_O also when he was on graham norton with hillary clinton like lmaooo i just love the idea of the booking agents for that show being like "we're having fucking hillary clinton on who can we bring for comic relief who is a household name but not problematic but intelligent but actually funny" i mean they hit the jackpot of course but it cracks me up that that's his brand

did david ever watch succession? rob def did but i need more about it from both of them

sometimes i think about when david accepted his bafta for peep show and the music that was playing while he walked to the stage was "sex on fire" by kings of leon hahahahaha like what who was djing that night fr

where did charlie brooker go

speaking of back in the day — and i do mean back, like 15+ years ago — and my main panel show obsession was buzzcocks, there were a few non-comedians who would come on panel shows who were properly fucking funny, like martin freeman and josh groban, and i'd always pray they'd eventually come on again. and i think at the time the person at the top of my list was professor green. how random is that TT he was just always up for laugh and just so likable. i also LOVED the song "just good to be green" with lily allen in like 2010 lmaooo this really ages me :)

been really enjoying some old angus deayton-hosted stuff, like old hignfy and wilty. i got into panel shows after he'd stepped out of the spotlight, but i remember being crushed when i found out about his scandal. i also remember stephen fry standing up for him and chastising paul & ian publicly after That Episode of hignfy — which absolutely blew my mind, even though stephen has always said what he thinks — and i agreed with him and am not sure even today if i fully forgave paul & ian for how they treated angus. ik he's still here and there, but i wonder if we'll ever see him in any properly notable capacity again

just watched the latest hignfy actually and jack dee pheww he's ageing very nicely let me just say it and pheww emmanuel sonubi please and thank you. also, paul's outfit was quite nice. an enjoyment of the eyes indeed

i've been making a lot of typos in my gifs lately for literally no reason other than not proofreading my rushing and it's embarrazzing i'm gonna do better

speaking of gifs i have NOTHING!!! in my drafts folder. nothing. no content. nothing is made. nothing in the queue. [sigh] sounds like tonight we be bustin it out huh. idk about other gifmakers (i actually don't follow any other panel show blogs, but this isn't necessarily a panel show blog thing, just a regular original content thing) but i don't usually make gifs throughout the week — instead, like, marathon gif like two times a week and build up 10–20 drafts to post throughout the week. if you gif every single day or to keep up with all of the new content, it starts to become a chore, which is never fun :(

speaking of which i probably won't gif outsiders too much because people don't seem to care too much about it + the webrips are just...so ugly in gif form, even at 1080p! it's a dave thing fr, taskmaster used to be the same way -_-

okay here we go into gif mode btw i got some of your requests and will def make them!!

#p #long post

[ambiguousdisorderken]

alternate (? childhood kenstewy. yes they still met at buckley but they hated one another fuck knows why –actually we all know why, it's little boys with crushes being dumb because they don't know what to do much less how to act around the person they like – which turns into a sort of rivalry but also they're easy targets for others to bully so inexplicably /for them / they have each others back and soon they become stewy&ken in everyone else's eyes, and since ken doesn't have many friends, or any, he invites stewy to every event/vacation/party his family hosts (he thinks it makes him look cool, having a friend like stewy) and stewy keeps complaining about not wanting to go so ken tells him he can just say no (he thought at least they'd been having fun) but stewy rolls his eyes and says 'whatever' and accepts the next invite without a fuss, and the next and the one after that. and then sometime reaching the end of middle school they have a huge fight about a girl, but it's not about the girl at all - or her being kendall's first kiss or stewy having admitted to liking boys just a week before or the weird vibe that settled between them after that or the fact that they almost kissed before all prev shit went down, and it ends with ken stating they're not even friends anyway , that he and stewy simply got stuck together out of habit but high school will be different – high school is for reinventions. they're cool now, but different cool. they don't need to use each other as a cover because it’s not believable anymore. ugh. and , well. stewy, scoffs. made aware of facts he thought had stopped being true eons ago, coming to terms with the realization that his self-proclaimed best friend couldn't handle knowing stewy for real for more than a week before being grossed out - what ken meant by different was 'you're a fag and i'm not and i can't really have people (my dad) making any assumptions'. in short, stewy goes, 'fine. fuck you, roy. get lost' and they stop talking and they get other friends and they exchange angry, hurt glances, until they stop sharing even that. and that lasts for a while until it doesn't, and it only takes 1 year, 8 months, 17 days, a shitty house party with shit music, a cocktail of soft drugs, a shit ton of alcohol, a drunken confession, a grade-a swap of insults and jealous remarks, a fucked-up yet obviously rehearsed apology, several shudders and gasps and tears, and a messy kiss turned make-out session in an unlocked bathroom of some classmate's mansion.

#how is this the worst day I've ever had #kenstewy

[heffrondriving]

۪͙۪˚┊❛ ride on, ride on now to the other side of yesterday ❜ : ̗̀❥ james × jett ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

: ̗̀❥ RATING: T+ // WORD COUNT: 3,910 // CHARACTERS: jett stetson, james diamond, kendall knight, jo taylor, logan mitchell, carlos garcia // TAGS: one shot, angst, mild hurt/comfort, pov second person, songfic, nightclub, alcohol, partying, drunken shenanigans, references to drugs, mature language & themes, internal monologue, love at first sight or tripped-out delirium, mildly dubious consent?, alternate universe: different first meeting // AO3

: ̗̀❥ Song inspiration + lyrics from: Boy by Reol (translation)

: ̗̀❥ [Part 4 of Cupid Got Us F♡cked Up]

Hey boy, it stings My heart just can’t get used to this Strange feeling of you not being around But I know I have to go

The way the boy’s hips sway under the burning glow of the cramped room, extraordinarily gossamer and mesmerising against the hundreds of other sweat-infused bodies strobing and gyrating and writhing to the strident beat, it’s almost enough to make you forget the week-stale perfume and cosmopolitan rejection permeating every inch of your arctic-slippery skin.

The screaming is unbearable. You choke down the last drops of your Whiskey Manhattan without biting on the cherry and invite him to dance. He laughs and pulls you in to take a clumsy seat by the bar instead.

I messed up so many times But I’ll redo it however many times And everything you denied I’ll prove however many times

In the middle of wry introductions and exchanging double-edged banter about who’s better-looking (it’s obviously you, but you modestly pass up an occasional cheapshot or two as not to turn him off to pompous egotism; the truth isn’t really welcome in these hotspots anyway) and a rather passionate dad joke about his cheesy boyband career that you’re endlessly hair-riffling and fake-laughing in dangerous schoolgirl levels to, someone comes up to slap the boy in the shoulder—some lanky unattractive blond with enough eyebrows to knit ten sweaters and is definitely a thousand hitchhiking miles away from the both of your supreme leagues (though you reign more supreme, no big duh).

We’re on top of a scale, seesawing And what’s being measured is our amount of good luck I hear the sound of the end approaching

You figure the boy will easily shrug the poor opportunistic fool away, but then suddenly he’s grinning and woolly odd-face is sticking his tongue out derisively and they’re laughing together to the tune of decades-long familiarity and you feel a burst of something like inexplicable jealous rage—how dare he—and your fists clench but before you can gear them back to take a smash hit, a froofy pink drink with fancy sliced fruits in it (exactly your guilty pleasure type but you pretend to be all huffy and insulted anyway) slides between your tetchy hands and the boy’s hooded gaze slyly flits back to you.

“On me,” he says, and smiles that perfect smile, but it’s the assuring squeeze on your skinny-jeaned thigh that makes your chest explode with something like curious obsessive desire. You won’t dare.

“Having fun, my man? is this the hottest club ‘round this side of the Hollywood hills or what?!” Far from it, babe—this isn’t even an anthill worthy enough to stomp my Balenciaga Slides on, you’d retort, but you pop a complimentary peanut or two to keep your rain from their pathetic parades. You’re roasting here too, and hypocrites can’t be choosers. “Oh, and B-T-dubs, you so owe me for actually convincing the huge scary Freight Train-looking bouncer dude to squeeze us up a good couple spots on the list, even after all that bullshit chaos you just had to cause with mister line cutter outside.”

The pounding of my heart is a teasing reminder Of what’s long overdue, let’s dance In front of this intersection of our different paths Yeah, I came here just because I thought to!

“Hey, not as much as you owe me for throwing hands with the big G-man and Kellsters to let us get off band rehearsals early for the night—I swear, I’ll be digging out gnashed teeth shrapnel outta my eardrums for weeks to come!”

“Yeah, at least that’ll give you some excuse to actually clean them, huh?”

“Fuck off.”

“Love you too, buddy.”

“I know you do, idiot...hey, wait a sec. You never even introduced me to your pop-collared buddy there, ya sly dog! Ah—‘scuse me—sorry about that—how’s it going, man? I’m Ken...wait, you uh, you look kinda familiar...have I seen you somewhere before?”

For you, I always wanted to be just right for you If I just thought about how you could do anything I didn’t need any aspirations

No shit Sherlock, you’re capital Fab Fit Fucking Famous, but you’re gonna let fugly (for fuzzy-ugly) duckling figure that kiddie brain-buster out for himself. You simply turn up your chin to an elegant degree and take a snide-coded sip while he tries to make a glib comeback, but he’s thankfully cut short and dragged back by another gormless giggling blondzo, though she’s certainly a significantly prettier sight than her companion...wait, a prettier sight you’ve seen and kissed before...and once relentlessly chased for the sake of the candid cameras and paparazzi posers, even when the game was already over and she respectfully cut the first-place ribbon from your neck. This is genuinely the last place you’d expect to see a vanilla-blue valley girlie like her, and recognising her down to the bouncing Mary Sue curls and the sweet sixteen smirk sends a painful surge of Chambord up your spluttering nose.

So much for being the white swan.

And if it made you happy, I would’ve done anything I even would’ve wanted to be a clown

But she thankfully doesn’t notice you, and you don’t care enough outside of the momentary culture shock to chase her down and catch up with her, either. Not when you’ve already been spared having to put up with awkward pleasantries with some passé costar. Not when she never really liked you much anyway. And especially not when you finally have your darling nightingale boy all to yourself.

Ah, has my time come already? Tomorrow is calling me I smile and wave my hand goodbye

Though, not quite; never quite yet. More flirty no-names and unfriendly faces stay in the woozy rotation, vices and vultures, drawn to the boy’s centripetal gravity just as much as you are. Pretty boy, popular boy, perfect boy like that, even with your blinding bravado and obnoxiously bedazzled confidence, you can’t help but wonder how in the wasted world you’re still managing to keep close attention to him and when his slipping inching fleeting touch is gonna drift away into a parallel reality (please, not sooner, not later), and why you’re suddenly burning up so much.

It’s the bright lights. It’s the copious alcohol. It’s the spinning too much and too close to the sun.

Top speed in the direction of love Ride on, ride on now, to the other side of yesterday Towards the direction of love

“Can we go home now?” someone puppy-whines from behind you and the boy, a klaxon siren intensity that makes you cover your top-hits tinnitused ears and wonder if the cops are closing in to bust in and declare the party as over (as if it wasn’t dead on arrival already when killjoy over here cried wolf). “I think I’m starting to get a serious breakout of hives from this abrasive glowstick plastic. Or it might be the toxic fluorescent dye leaking out and I’m about to have a major anaphylactic shock and seize out and die on the dancefloor to friggin’ Ke$ha telling me to lose my mind and lose my clothes in the crowd and I’m sure as Begly’s bike toast am not gonna take it off!”

“Oooh yeah nah, I wouldn’t recommend that, dude.” Tsk, tsk. You totally would, though. Might liven things up a little better, and you’ve honestly seen worse. Way, waaaay worse. Maybe even done worse if you remember right—but that’s not a fun scandal scoop saved for tonight if everyone’s out here making new one for tomorrow’s headlines. “Not the stripping part, and deffo not the dying part, either—most bigwig party animals are worse revivers than they are kissers.”

“Oh, ‘cause you’d know, huh?”

“Hey, I’m just saying. Take my advice—or don’t, whatever, it’s your body glitter-glazed funeral and we’re not gonna drag your rotting naked ass back home unless Los finds a nice dumpster to bury you in—if you think the overuse of spit and sheer sloppiness is unbearable on the second one, well...”

The saliva I’ve spit out The fallen leaves won’t return to their branches I’ve cut off any way to back down from this Farewell, my beloved days

This lukewarm quip is enough to make mister hypochondriac barker run with his tail between his hobble-hocked legs, knocking some preppy Erewhon-Organic-looking Crosby (who’s clearly trespassing on a group of Daisy Duke girls’ private plush lounge territory) over and ass-up—serves the hedge fund creepo motherfucker right!—as the perp takes his frantic tarantella to the graffitied graveyard they generously call a bathroom. Probably to seek out a steel wool pad and some hospital-grade antibacterial soap (in some depraver’s shady hovel in downtown LA, yeah, as friggin’ if—he’s more likely to find another rigor mortised body slumped a-la avant-garde exhibit in one of the stalls).

A ne’er-do-well who would Make all the noise in the world And never be satisfied

Cute as the nervous dimples and unmatched rabid geek energy were, your jaded eyes don’t follow him for very long. The boy’s stark enraptured face, thrown back to the suffocated skylights and shimmering with pure glee, wouldn’t let you. Slowing down into an astonishing descent with the taste of margarita salt on his sweetsoft lips sipping away the straight chlorine on yours—and you’re stuck waiting, watching forever, a bystander feeling smaller and smaller under the sinking settling shrieking realisation that the sky is bigger than they ever dreamed to cosmically imagine and one daring yesterday it’s all going to go dark, empty space and darkening vision.

This is the afterlife A masochist hurting themselves in longing And in the end, I lost it all without a trace What was “for you” was really always for me As soon as I made sure of it, the fading sky grew cold

This shooting star moment doesn’t last you very long, either.

“And how’s our wonder loverboy doi—woaaaaah nelly. What the hell happened to you? Jeez, I trust you to behave and leave you alone for five minutes...”

“I was just talking to this really cool-looking girl over there—she was with her kinda-scary friends but she’s got all these crazy piercings and rainbow hair and she said she liked Helmetie and thought I was kinda cute and I said I thought so too! And she asked if I thought I was cute, but then I said I meant I thought she was cute, not me. And Helmetie also thought she supertastic-cute, and she laughed and it was seriously the cutest thing ever! So we were like, really starting off on the right foot—and I swear, she was gonna be the one, dude!—but then I asked her what size her finger is and she wouldn’t even let me get to the buying a wedding ring part before, well. This whole mess.”

A pint-sized Latino soaked in what smells like Strawberry Sangria and stale hotdog water steadily trudges towards you and the boy, mopey mouth running a mile a minute with no room to spare for a shut the fuck up. You’d honestly sneer at his sorry sloshed-up sight if he didn’t just embrace the sticky spilled drink all over the both of you without a second boundary’s worth of thought nor hesitation.

Oh, broken mirror Is there anything you can salvage of me? I don’t know, sorry

His caramel cheeks are flushed Cosmo-pinker and his face is a miserable smear of nosebleeds and sobriety, but being teetotal wouldn’t explain why he’s wearing that godawful vomit-brown paisley top and a clunky sports helmet in the middle of a goddamned nightclub. Although, thinking back on all the times you almost got concussed in between getting stampeded by staggering strangers and oversensual half-lovers and snorting bullheads spoiling for a fight, he may just have the right idea. Especially if he’s gonna keep up that honest-to-badness garish haunted sofa ‘fit and trashy pick-up line streak. No matter how adorably, hopelessly, idiotically innocent it was clearly intended to be.

Hollywood don’t do subtle, and this kid was anything and everything under god’s wilted green earth and piss-yellow sunshine but.

And if it made you happy, I would’ve done anything I just wanted to match everything you did

Strawberry shortcake wedges himself in between you two (practically plopped right on the boy’s lap and that venomous rage resurges but you’re all out of froofy drinks and you’re honestly feeling a bit sick and sluggish from the syrupy sweetness and that unfading acrid taste from three free shots and an accidental alcoholic waterboarding ago, so down, bitch!) and laments some more to his apparent wingman over a glucose-elevating order of Virgin Mudslide about his voodooed lacklustre lady luck.

Halfway through the hurricane glass, he gets so impossibly giddy over the thought of never finding true love tonight that his splayed limbs start to have a life of their own and his whirling seat’s rivets fly off like teeny artillery, prompting a serrated scowl from the shaved-head bartender and a rub on the back from the sympathetically exasperated boy as he mumbles something about “first Hortense, now this—why can’t we just have a nice boys out for once without it getting all screwed-up and messy, I swear to god...” and even you actually start to feel a bit sorry for him and his little project reject.

It’s so frustrating But I can’t even bring myself to cry I can’t even shed a tear

With this, boybestie’s promptly encouraged with a crumpled wadful of cocktail napkins, one Helmetie less, and a mollifying bro pat on the back to take it easy and breathe it out, loosen...er, tighten up and get himself back out there on the raucous runaway, and try again (and again and again and again by the looks of it, you’d willingly bet your overcharged tab). They’re the Hollywood super party kings of Hollywood, for crying out loud (whatever the hell that even meant—and Hollywood twice cancels the whole equation out...okay, you really need to lay down on the chasers before you become the next new-age enlightener. And also just lay down, in general), so he better stop the pervy twenty questions game and the shady cool cat act and just try to be himself this time. But maybe just not too much himself.

Hey, so I gave you the notice But the after-effects are getting to me I can’t just be calm and collected about this all And so now we’re both getting a taste of this irony

Nerve-twisting numbers or not, the boy makes a really good point. You’re never really yourself when you’re hanging out in these kinda jank joints, of infamous druggies and has-been thuggies and mostly junkied now-next-to-nobodies—when you’re there overdressed to unimpress for the free drinks and the easy-A lust and the wishy-washy escapism of being no one or everyone or anyone else at all, there isn’t any need to be yourself, after all. That’s the last thing any try-hard outsider would ever want in this silver-lined city, to be known for being yourself since there’s no riches in radical reality...but despite that, the boy himself strangely seems to feel right at home here, no fragile façade nor pity-love fable to peddle save that salvaged heart bleeding bubblegum songs and unsaid stories all over his hundred-dollar sleeve.

Well, don’t say you didn’t want to know I’m feeling on edge, give me something to spur me on

You can see lost scars peeking shyly from behind his apropos Tom Ford bomber jacket that does nothing to hide the soiled clothes of a wayward child stumbling skinning his knees in dirty wonderland, you can see the branching scars that cross his tempered face like fortune lines and coat his sweetest words with an aftertaste of berry-baby-bitter that makes him swallow his guilt a lot harder just so his perfect smile could be a little softer, if you step back and look closer to dim down the glaring migraine lights reflecting rainbows and district red lights all over his flawless skin, you can see he’s really built of nothing else but smouldering diamond bones and vicious tooth and nail ambitions and the prettiest little scars. He hides it well; but there’s no place left to hide in this cramped hellhole but upfront.

Pretty boy, popular boy, perfect boy, who hurt you?

Give me more of that conviction Give me more reasons to stand up again Give me however many and however many times

You don’t ask anymore. It might just be from one-too-many slips and slurries and shots of flaming sambuca, but choosers can’t be hypocrites and you hardly even recall if you exchanged names. Saying hi all the time and staying high all the time, some nitty-gritty details are bound to drop off into asterisks—like how long ago did you meet, and why can’t your hands stop blurring in front of you when the boy’s holding them so tightly it’s cutting off the blood circulation and keeping you numb to every sinking gripping aching touch, and why do you need to care about all these pointless questions? What was your name again...?

Well, whatever. It doesn’t really matter at all. You don’t need names to dance. You don’t need names to fuck. You don’t need names to remember for longer than a nascent after-hours, turning blood-red against yellowed eyes and evergreen veins. But you’re not so sure you want to forget, either.

If you can love someone More than the number of your regrets Then that love is something you should sing out loud Forget about what I promised you on that day

The silence speaks volumes. He spills half his vodka tonic on the jacket while grimacing from the lime and invites you to dance. You laugh and clumsily pull him into the floor, and that terrible twist of time leaves a lot of space for bad intentions as it slows the both of you into a phantasmic non-apropos waltz.

Wishing you well as I send you off Just one last thing to bother you with— I’m sorry. Well, then...see you again

Tired forehead to piercing clavicle. Phantom hands anchored and tracing gently-swaying hips, arching closer, grinding teeth. Broad blustered chests exploding in hazardous friction, challenging each other to thump a little faster, a little louder, a lot more painful, catching breaths catching up to the reverberating electrified drop before the raving crowd goes wild and they all fall down and you would too—god, why does everything burn so fucking much?—if only the boy isn’t holding every part of you together. You and the boy and you’re his boy but is he your boy? You’re not sure you’re not sure of anything anymore and you’re almost afraid to feel afraid to ask and it’s stupid and you’re stupid—stop acting so stupid, where’s your heavy hurting head, up there, up where, where did all your clever lies go off to, to throw up the poison and feel okay again or to curl up and die all alone in some other hypothetical hellhole where it wouldn’t be caught dead—as if you haven’t done this before.

For you, I always wanted to be just right for you If I just thought about how you could do anything I didn’t need any aspirations And if it made you happy, I would’ve done anything I even would’ve wanted to be a clown

You’ve been here before, danced a million ankle-breaking steps before, fucked a hundred wasted no-names before, remembered a thousand hangover ways to wake up on the wrong side of Viva La Holy Hollywood before, but you’re one-hundred percent sure plus one that you’ve never ever done this before. Never felt anything like this before. What is this, you may ask? Why ask at all? Maybe you shouldn’t. The boy’s not looking for answers he knows he couldn’t give back. But you’re still going to ask. God, you have to ask. Even if it’s just this time. Damn whatever the hell your dizzy dirty deadly cocksure fucking ego is screaming at you in every available profane language but right now, but there’s no other time to waste than now.

Ah, I’m out of time now Turn around, turn it all around, for me now

“Are you still gonna want me tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, but I like the idea of you. And I want you, right here, right now.”

What’s for what and what’s for who? I guess I’ll know when it’s all over, huh?

No promises. Nothing different. You’ve seen this shit before, a bajillion times over. He’s good at this. He’s done this before. You’ve believed it before. But you believe in him anyway.

You don’t know what else to do. You don’t know how else to think. You can’t feel anything but the boy.

Pretty boy, popular boy, perfect boy, why do you hurt?

I love this good-for-nothing lifeform with all my heart And even if this isn’t the best solution I just want to be myself...ah, it’s time now

Now you’re dancing, you’re dancing, and the cramped room crashes down around you and the lasting memory of the boy falters and the stringent beat has fallen away into a senseless static rush and you’re still somehow strobing and gyrating and writhing fucking mechanical as you hold onto him for dear life and delight and dear lies and the constellated kisses on your broken neck are stinging and numbed fingers bruising hips and grinding teeth breaking hollows and everyone and their chemical friends are watching, are watching but the glitter in your bleached-blue eyes shine like salty stars reflected against ocean indigo and something slips inside your tongue sinking the unsinkable and it’s not a pastel pill or a blotter or the sun but you gag once and get swallowed whole as everything melts down into a bad trip and he’s desperately asking for your name—what was it again, tell me tell me tell me—and you’re screaming something maybe like his name beneath his slippery scarred skin spreading with cracks and heady perfume and you’re hot and cold all over and over it’s over and going under underwater and all that’s left to think about is the all-consuming idea of him, and him, and him, and maybe, and maybe you—don’t know don’t know don’t want—you want it. Right here, right now. Maybe just enough to forget nothing, everything, anything at all. Maybe you like the idea of us.

No matter how it turns out, I’m going to go now To the starting line, top speed in the direction of love

Maybe you even love the boy, in some other dying cosmic yesterday you never dreamed to imagine before and never will again, even if you escape this pretty greenyellowredblack hole and fucking crawl out of that infinite stampede and make it out alive, alive, are you alive somehow. But you’re feeling smaller and smaller and your headspace is empty and your bloodshot vision is darkening and you’re not gonna ruin it like that. You’re not gonna ruin him like that. Not tonight.

I T ’  S    O   N      Y      O        U         N        O           W        —

Ride on, ride on now, to the other side of yesterday And I’ll overtake even longing itself.

#irdk why i'm posting this here but aye here's a dumb unreality-ish jamett fic i wrote last november and posted some weeks ago #i don't even know what the purpose of this either it's just. oops my brain slipped and i woke up with this and drool all over my keyboard #have some y/n!jett and vaguely dark!james??? ft. 21+ btr gang inexplicably raving it out idk how nightclubs and drinking work tbh #also i just like the way this gif edit turned out so i wanna plaster it elsewhere (<- is bad at making gifs and has abysmal expectations) #btr #big time rush #fanfic #one shot #fanfiction #james diamond #jett stetson #jamett #angst #hurt/comfort #songfic #nightclub #second person pov #not in my mirror #james diamond x jett stetson #the line that starts the whole story #nickelodeon #writeblr #stop it forever #this is just for posterity really. maybe i shouldn't be posting my fics here but i kinda want an archive of them on my blog too so sorry #no one's gonna read this anyway so it's fine by me bc i liked writing it too much :'> and i'm gonna keep writing them bc they're fun #and at this point my lack of writing skills could just shut the hell up #also p.s. i fucking hate tumblr's editing system it's so painful to use on desktop especially with all the different formatting. obehaglig #this took too long for me not to throw it out and also i don't want it clogging up my drafts anymore so blep blip bluppp

[acaplion]

pick a picture reading - your future spouse's personality

Wow, thank you so much for all the love, support, likes and reblogs on my first pick a card reading! I want to do at least 2 pick a card readings a month, time permitting. I like to read tarot for fun and I don't want it to feel like a job. Since, I'm always curious about a future spouse post here's another one -- but this time about their personality. If you missed my last pick a picture reading, check it out here How will you meet your future spouse. If you liked this post please like or reblog if you can so more people can see this reading. I also love feedback so feel free to pop into my inbox or messages or just directly reply to this post.

Instructions: Focus on the question and each of the pictures. Choose the one that calls to you intuitively! If two calls to you then read both! If it doesn't resonate leave it, if it resonates then keep it.

My reading style: I generally read tarot first and then intuitively read based on the cards. I am claircognizant and clairaudient so I will have insights outside of my cards. I try to explain each card so the readers can follow my train of thought. There is also very minimal discussion about s*x, I'm not sure if it's worth a warning but if you are under 18...maybe just skip over those sentences. Warning: my readings can get really long because I want to give as much detail as possible.

Pile 1 - I don't care

The Empress, 2 of pentacles, 10 of wands, The fool, Knight of Swords, 4 of cups, 5 of cups, 3 of cups, King of cups, ten of pentacles, Bottom of deck: Ace of swords

I immediately heard that your FS might be either a Capricorn or a Scorpio. Strong IDGAF vibes (Kendall Jenner is a Scorpio Sun herself). When I was shuffling I saw the Devil (that represents Capricorn) and Death (represents Scorpio) at least 5 times. Either way, I get the feeling that this person is extremely intense and feels emotions at a very deep level. They also like exerting a certain level of control (think dominant vibes both in and out of the bedroom).

The Empress is connected to Venus (ruled by Taurus & Libra). They are someone who can be quite maternal(even if this is the masculine they will be nurturing and caring). They are people who love deeply and have many artistic talents. The 2 of pentacles is someone that has to balance a lot in his life (Career, love, finances, time etc.) they might be seen as someone who often has to make decisions. Sometimes others may view them as being indecisive as it can take them some time to decide. They might be a boss, CEO, or a manager in charge of managing many tasks and people. The Ten of Wands is someone who has a much on their plate and is carrying a heavy burden. He might be a workaholic when you first meet him but that might slowly change during the course of your relationship. I see you being a sigh of relief for them as they learn to prioritize you and the relationship! With The Fool next, I see your FS as someone who who was a dreamer. Perhaps, they were an artist, musician, writer in their youth but now works in a demanding job managing others. I feel like they long to go back to being the carefree, adventurous fool but find it hard to go back until you come in! If you find them stiff as first, I wouldn't worry your FS will show you the carefree energy of the fool soon enough. The fool is ruled by Uranus so perhaps your FS has Aquarius or Uranus prominent in their natal chart. The Knight of Swords is someone who is extremely intelligent, well spoken and opinionated. I think you will be surprised exactly how much your FS can talk when the right subject is brought up. The Four of Pentacles can be negatively viewed as someone who is selfish, but here I think your FS can get jealous easily, and want to protect you and your relationship from the outside world. They will not want to let you go without a fight. They also could be more selfish when it comes to financial matters. They put protecting themselves and their loved ones above just about everything. The Five of Cups is someone who might be more pessimistic, who looks at the spilled wine instead of the perfectly fine wine they have in the other cups. They might also battle with their mental heath, in particular depression. They also might feel regret for past decisions and mistakes which can make them scared to make more decisions (look at 2 of pentacles). The 3 of cups shows someone who likes to have a good times with their friends (i see an image of them at the bar with their friends drinking all night having a blast). When they aren't being pessimistic or depressed they can be the life of the party. The King Of Cups is someone who is mature, both emotionally and otherwise. They know exactly what they want in life and love and you are it my darling! I think by the time you meet them they will have become a more benevolent leader and have curbed some of their more negative traits. The King of cups can also represent Scorpio. The last card in the spread is the ten of pentacles which is the card of completion. I think your FS has been waiting for a long time for you. Now that they have you, they want a family, dogs etc. They want their happily ever after and I am happy to say that I think you two will be very happy together. I think you will be the perfect counterpart to them and everything they have been looking for.

Pile 2 - Pink Rose

3 of wands, Wheel of Fortune, 3 of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, The Tower, 9 of cups, Ace of Swords, Ace of Wands, Nine of Swords, 5 of Swords, Bottom of deck: Page of Cups

The 3 of wands depicts a man looking out at the sea with his 3 wands. I take this to mean that your FS is someone who wants to know the future, he likes to plan ahead and he has the willpower and the desire to see through his plans. You could describe them as a dreamer with a plan. I heard Venusian so Libra or Taurus dominant, could also be a Pisces or Cancer dominant if not. The Wheel of Fortune is someone who is well traveled, well learned (perhaps a Venus in the 9th house or Venus in Sag). They are busy achievers and constantly moving. I think their life has often gone in cycles, with ups and downs but they weather the storm fairly well. I think your FS is rather resourceful and optimistic, nothing keeps them down for long. There is a possibility that your backgrounds will differ, your FS in that situation will be very open to learning more about your cultures, customs, languages etc. I think your FS will also want to take you to explore many places in this world so I hope you like to travel! 3 of Pentacles is someone who easily gets along with others. Perhaps in his career, he works with others in projects of some kind building something (think engineer, architect, sales team etc.) I see that your FS is quite talented both with his words and his hands. He could also do something with his hands like Construction or something in real estate. The Queen of Pentacles is a good partner to have: they are nuturing, caring, good parents, and successful in their career. Perhaps when you meet them they already have a kid (that's very specific so it's not for everyone, take if it resonates please). The Tower to describe someone is interesting, it means that they are not afraid to fuck with the status quo. There is this air of IDGAF from this group also but more from a playful, optimistic way where they like to indulge in a little gossip. Like mischievous fun--think Cupid or Eros. I think if you don't like this about them, they are willing to change for you but keep in mind they are a little shithead at heart. The 9 of cups is one of my favorite cards in the whole deck and as a person it's so cute! This person is likely very optimistic, funny, playful and very lucky. With a little luck your FS has accomplished so much! They are a very good manifestor, receiving most things they ask for. And don't be mistaken, your FS has very much asked for you! They will be very content and at peace once they are with you. Ace of Swords is someone who uses their intellect to get ahead (while your person can be emotional at times they still prefer to act with their mind first. They are clever, full of good ideas and implement them with gusto. They are risk takers and perhaps like gambling at Vegas or playing the stock market. Ace of Swords: well take this if it resonates but I am seeing here that if your future spouse is a male you will be very satisfied with his equipment 😉 and he probably like it rough (ace of swords) and hot (ace of wands). The y are also very fiery and driven. I see them as successful because they think first and then act and that one two punch is very effective. Nine of Wands: Sometimes though, your person might have a lot of anxiety. Perhaps they are very good at hiding their anxieties and worries from the world but you will be able to see through them. They will really appreciate that. Five of Swords: I think at times they can be too aggressive and almost bully like to others. They like to be the alpha dog and don't take too well to other dominating personalities. I think there are two sides to them: the happy go lucky optimistic exterior and the negative, aggressive bully inside. They might find it hard to admit their shortcomings.

Pile 3 - Vintage Books

Strength, 6 of cups, Wheel of Fortune, Knight of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Six of Swords, King of Swords, Judgement, The Chariot, Queen of Wands

The Strength card usually indicates a Leo so your FS might have Leo in their Big 3 or Venus/mars. I would expect this person to possess greatness in them: strength, perseverance, courage. Think of your typical Gryffindor when you see your FS. They might have an urge to defend the underdogs and are usually good leaders. Six of cups again is someone who brings balance to a friend group. They are kind and caring, in the Rider Waite deck we see a young boy giving a young girl flowers. That's the kind of energy your FS has. They are trustworthy and the type of person you can always count on. The Wheel of Fortune is someone who has lived through a few events in life.They are likely extremely curious and may have traveled around the world or studied about world history, philosophy, religion etc. They are often very lucky because they always seem to land right side up even when it seems impossible. Knight of Pentacles is someone who is patient and moves a little slower. There is a desire for them to provide for you, to offer you that coin so to speak. They are also reliable, if they say they want to be with you, it's because they do. Queen of Cups is someone who is mature, secure in their emotions and loving. They have an innate kindness about them that makes them empathetic to others. They are great listeners and you will feel well supported by your FS. Six of Swords as a person means that person is curious, always looking for the next problem to solve. You can be rest assured that they will take care of you and your future children by solving any potential problems. The Rider Waite deck has a man rowing a boat with a woman and child in it. That's how I see your FS. King of Swords is someone who is extremely intelligent and they often serve as a mentor to those younger than them. They are wise beyond their years. When dealing with facts they leave their emotions out of it. They tend to also move cautiously, weighing the pros and cons before making a move. Please don't be upset, but I can see your FS making a pros and cons list before pursuing you. Rest assured though, they will also factor emotions and feelings into their final decisions. Judgement is a person who is an assertive leader with a clear vision. Since they take their time in making decisions, they rarely go back on it. They are self assured and have a proven track record. I can see them owning their own small business or even being a CEO of a larger one. Either way, they will be a leader in their community. I am also getting that some of them may run for public office of some kind in the future. The Chariot is another card about a person who is assertive and fearless. Be careful though, because at times this display of fearlessness is a facade. Basically congrats, pile 3 I think you are marrying your very own Gryffindor! And look, your last card is the Queen of Wands another fiery card! They are extroverted, passionate in their beliefs and social. I think you will marry someone who is prominent in society. If they are not yet, then they will grow to be. BTW this doesn't have to mean like debutante society it can just mean that they are a visible community leader in whatever community they live in.

#pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #free tarot reading #tarot reading #PAC #future spouse #love readings #tarot #future spouse reading #love reading

[erodasfishtacos]

#HendallReunited

prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: language, sexual content, angst

Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.

He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.

Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.

The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.

She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.

Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.

The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.

Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.

This time - it was really fucking bad.

The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.

It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.

He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.

At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.

**

Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.

He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.

“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.

“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.

Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.

Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame. 

Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.

“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.

This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.

He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.

“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 

“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.

“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.

“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.

Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.

“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.

He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.

**

Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.

He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.

Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.

She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.

Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!

He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.

Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.

—

Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.

Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.

Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.

They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.

Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.

Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.

He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face  relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.

“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.

“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.

She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels. 

Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.

Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.

“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.

Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.

“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.

She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”

Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.

“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.

“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.

“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.

“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”

“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.

Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”

Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”

His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.

“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”

Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”

He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.

“You will be, you-“

They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.

“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.

Fucking shit.

**

Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.

But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.

Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.

“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.

They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.

They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.

“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”

She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”

He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.

“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”

Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers. 

When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.

“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”

He nods, apprehensive.

“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.

Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.

**

The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.

“Where’d Y/N go?”

He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.

“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.

“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.

“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.

“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”

“Harry-“

“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.

All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.

Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.

—

The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.

He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.

Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.

Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.

He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.

“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless. 

“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.

“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.

Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom.  Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.

Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.

Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”

 Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.

“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.

She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”

“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.

Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.

What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.

“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.

“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,”  Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.

“I’m goi-“

She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”

The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.

“Baby-“

“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.

He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.

He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.

Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.

He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.

The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.

His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .

“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.

She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.

After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.

He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.

It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and  Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.

She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear. 

That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.

 Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”

He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”

Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her. 

It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.

She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.

He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.

*

He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.

Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.

He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.

There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.

Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.

Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?

He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.

The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.

Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025

With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles

The second one was simple and read across the chest:

I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.

He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.

They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.

“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.

“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.

“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.

Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”

“Want it, wan-“

He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again. 

“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.

The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.

Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”

He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.

Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.

The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.

One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.

The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.

Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”

She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.

Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”

Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.

It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.

“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.

His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”

The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.

“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.

She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”

“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.

“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”

She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”

Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.

“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”

Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.

He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.

“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.

“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.

“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife. 

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”

Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”

“Okay?” She repeats.

“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.

“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.

It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.

Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.

—-

Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.

“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.

“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.

“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”

Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”

“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat. 

He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.

“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.

“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.

Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction. 

“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”

The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”

“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?” 

Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.

“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.

—

Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.

It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.

“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.

“In here!”

Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.

“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”

“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.

“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”

Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.

Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.

“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.

“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.

“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.

“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.

“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.

“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.

THE END

#harry styles #harry styles fic rec #fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles writing #harrystylesfanfic #harry styles imagine #fanpic harry #harry styles prompt #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb

[pynkhues]

I feel like Kendall would be the one to suggest casual sex with Stewy in college but he'd also get jealous whenever Stewy bring a guy back to their apartment ( even though Kendall bring girls back all the time but he's a hypocrite).

Ooooo, I love that, anon.

I kinda feel like the first hookup would've been accidental? Or not accidental exactly – I think they'd both thought about it, but they'd always mostly just chalked that up to being fifteen, seventeen, whatever and like - - perpetually horny. Or at least Stewy had, Kendall hadn't chalked it up to anything because he'd just aggressively shut down any thought as soon as it floated through his head. After all, you know growing up with a dad like Logan doesn't exactly encourage thoughts of exploring sexuality in a way that involves anyone other than leggy blondes with a size 2 ass.

And Stewy knows that, gets it, shit, has seen Logan tear Roman a new asshole for eating a banana and Kendall for crying after he told him to fuck off, like either thing means you love dick, but whatever. Not Stewy's circus, not Stewy's monkeys.

(Only Kendall kind of is, sometimes, but Stewy really doesn't want to think about that.)

Anyway, Stewy starts to experiment when he's a teenager, but Kendall doesn't really, and they graduate highschool and it's the summer before college and Connor offers to let them housesit his new place in Medina for a few weeks (even though doesn't he have like - - staff for that? Although Stewy knows Logan's been on the warpath lately too since a deal fell through, so maybe the housesitting isn't the point), and they get a little fucked up and a little closer and anyway they end up jerking each other off. It's not a big deal, it's not, and even less so maybe, because Kendall insists on reminding him in the morning how fucked up he was and how much he Doesn't Remember, and that really sort of figures.

Stewy's a little burnt, sure, but whatever, if that's the way Kendall wants to play it, it's no skin off his nose, only it happens again.

And again.

And then they go to college and it just - -

Keeps happening.

It doesn't mean they stop seeing other people (why would it if Ken never remembers?) – Kendall has a string of girlfriends he lovebombs before panicking about, and Stewy does College, sleeps with guys, girls, whoever, feels his way around the campus because who even cares about undergrad? Business School is for real work, connection building, bringing home a girl daddy will approve of, yadda yadda, this? This is supposed to be fun.

So Stewy's having fun.

And it's easy, it is, until Kendall's dumped by whatever bottle blonde linguistics major he's dating and wants to drown his sorrows, and Stewy's a good friend, y'know, he takes him out, he can do that, and they get fucked up at the campus bar, only Stewy runs into this guy that he has a casual arrangement with, and it's almost funny. How Kendall can't read the room for shit, except for this one, right now, because he latches onto it in a way that he hasn't done since Stewy wanted to play on Ricky Gadden's team in kickball (even as a kid, Stewy liked to win, and kickball? With Kendall? Come on).

The mood shifts, and Kendall's overly friendly - invites the guy to their booth, does that weird, intense thing he does where he makes too much eye contact, and Stewy's rolling his, but ends up patting them both on the shoulder and saying he'll talk to them another night, since they've hit it off, and Kendall, y'know, turns about eight different shades of red, but he knows the exact hole he's dug himself into now, and if there's one thing Kendall loves, it's sulking in said holes-he's-dug-himself, and so he stays, and Stewy goes back to his dorm, and he is not surprised in the slightest when Kendall shows up an hour later, trying and failing to play it cool, and Stewy just waits until Kendall finally caves and actually asks it.

Sort of.

"Are you and him like, uh, butt buddies or something?"

"Only on Thursdays," Stewy replies easily, still half-paying attention to his econ readings while Kendall sits awkwardly on his bed, tilting his beer (he'd pinched it from Stewy's minifridge the second he'd come in) and everything just sort of devolves because Kendall's petulant when he's jealous, and Stewy's annoyed because spotty memory and never actually talking about any of it was Kendall's choice, and Kendall just talks around everything and never about anything, at least not when it comes to this, but things sort of reach a head (hah, pun), and anyway, it's the first time they kiss.

Tucked into Stewy's dorm twin bed, Kendall pressed into the wall while Stewy just tries to get him to stop talking, and nothing changes, except Kendall stops pretending he forgets after, and that counts for something, right?

#*sobs* i just love mess #i can feel this college fic #f.e.e.l. it brewing in me haha #kendall x stewy #kendall roy #stewy hosseini #hbo succession #welcome to my ama

[waddlenut]

Masterlist of the masterlist - Harry Styles

I HAVE WRITTEN NONE OF THESE FANFICS, CREDITS TO THE WRITERS!

This is a masterlist of my reblogs :)

ONE DIRECTION

Fluff -

He doesn’t want to take advantage of you while you’re drunk (5/5)

You fall asleep on hijm in front of the boys (5/5)

Angst - 

You get mobbed by paparazzi (Harry and Louis preference)

The one where your house is on fire and you are asleep (Niall preference)

You pass out (Niall)

Tiger (Niall finds his girlfriend looking in the mirror, judging her appearance)

HARRY STYLES

Fluff -

Choosing her (y/n overhears Harry sticking up for her)

The one where you have a huge fight and you are sick

Not your fault (fav. y/n has epilepsy and Harry feels helpless. TW - minor graphic description of an epilepsy attack)

Y/N is in a wheelchair and she is grocery shopping with Harry

Just talk (fav. y/n has a minor speech impediment and one of Harry’s friend makes fun of her for it. She doesn’t know how to react, Harry does.)

Tea mugs and tear stains (y/n gets overwhelmed and Harry helps)

Harry jokes about your moaning

A white t-shirt (Harry find out about y/n’s scars. TW - mentions selfharm/scars)

Y/N vomits down Harry’s gucci suit and Harry couldn’t give a shit (TW - throwing up)

Y/N falling in the shower and boyfriend!Harry getting ultra worried

You’re deaf and Harry is besotted with you

Cus y’laugh is pretty (in which Harry gets his wiskom teeth removed)

Y/N is stressed and Harry makes everything just a little bit better

Coming out to Harry as bisexual (good ending, no worries)

Sweater (y/n cold and steals Harry’s sweater)

Periods, pads and pain (Y/N is on her period)

Holding him (just pure love and affection)

He’s just jealous (fav. a small kids thinks Y/N is pretty and wants to sit with her)

My muse (TW - camille)

My hero (Harry being protective)

You’re poor and he doesn’t know

The best doctor (Y/N has chronic migraines)

First class (the one when Y/N and Harry meet during a long flight, and Harry makes a new little friend too)             part 2

Your best friend negatively talks about you and Harry’s relationship and he overhears

Your english is so good yet, and someone makes fun of it. Harry does not appericiate that

The best gift (fav. Y/N can’t afford Harry’s life style. angst w/ fluff)

Right place, right time (fav. When someone starts following the reader, Harry is the prince on a white horse)

Harry points you out at his concert             part 2                        part 3

Y/N has an asthma attack at Harry’s place

Y/N gets drunk and uses Harry’s dick as a microphone

Y/N is breastfeeding in public and a man started saying rude remarkt to her, Harry knows how te react (fav)

Families meet (one where Harry’s family and Y/N Mexican family meet)

Her good baby (fav. Y/N has been really busy with a family program and kinda forgets about Harry. That’s until he breaks)

Spill your guts or fill your guts (based on spill you guts or fill your guts with Harry and Kendall but instead of Kendall it’s you)

Harry think Y/N and the kids forgot his birthday (fav)

CEO!Harry bring this baby angel to work, all fun until she gets lost

Y/N accidentally eating Harry’s edibles

Harry just cannot believe how much he loves

Harry and Y/N’s first thanksgiving in their home and a little announcement

Candy Wrappers (Harry loves candy, that results in a house full of candy wrappers)

Harry dating a curvy girl

Y/N and Harry’s home birth doesn’t go as planned

Under the canyon moon (dad!harry blowing raspberries into bubs tummy but they get a rash)

Y/N is in London while he is LA during quarantine (fav)

Quarantining with dad!Harry and your bub

Harry feels neglected when Y/N spends lots of time with Anne

Pregnant (where you’re pregnant during the corona outbreak and Harry is super protective)

Sunflower vol.6: the fic (fav. Y/N has tourette syndrome and Harry falls in love)

Bad days and good days (Y/N has depression and Harry takes care of her. TW - mentions of depression)

Mornings with the Styles family

Y/N following Harry around the house because she got scared watching a movie

Better than melatonin (Harry’s songs help you sleep)

Harry doing baby bubs hair in the bathroom while she’s facetiming Mitch (fav)

Harry helps you through childbirth

Anasthesia and letting go (reader has gotten their wisdome teeth removed and Harry takes care of them)

Getting naked in front of Harry for the first time

Harry reads Y/N a story to help her drift off to sleep

Want a chicken nugget (you’re taking a shower and Harry, knowing your love for chicken nuggets, comes and gives you one)

Rainbow cardigan (Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit)

My shy little boy (Y/N’s son is too shy to play with other kids at Anne’s house)

Golden dancing (fav. Harry is on stage singing golden and little Artemis comes running on stage and starts dancing)

Daddy (Artemis calls Harry daddy for the first time)

The first meeting (Y/N and Artemis met a handsome (to Y/N) and intimidating (to Artemis) man)

Watermelon suger (behind the scenes) (Shots of long-term girlfriend Y/N in watermelon suger. TW - some strong language)

Roses and vanilla (in which Y/N and Harry aren’t really close until Y/N falls in the shower, and Harry falls in love)

Babbles (bubby crying during a show just to get Harry’s attention so they can go on stage and babble into the mic)

No kids (H and his partner deciding not to have children)

Toxic family (fav. The reader doesn’t have the best family, lucky for them, the Styles are basically their family)

Harry’s son runs on stage

Listen to me (fav. Autistic!reader has a difficult moment)

Angst -

You pass out backstage

You have paranoia disorder

Can you leave? (fav. ceo!harry)

Complains (In which Y/N heard Harry complainging about her)

Taken (your abusive ex tries to contact you when Harry’s away on your. (TW - name calling and slight violence)

Autistic!reader has an interview with Harry (fav)

You get into a car accident when Harry’s in the middel of a concert       part 2 

Too busy for a baby (TW - harry’s an asshole + mentions of pregnancy)

Y/N gets anxiety at one of Harry’s concerts. (TW - anxiety and guns are mentioned)

He kicks you out of the car. (fav)       part 2

Long way down (the one where she tinks he’s being unfaithful, and he questions the trust in their relationship. TW - mentions of creating and pregnancy complications)             part 2 

The one where you have a huge fight and you are sick

There’s a rumor being spread about you

Remember me (Harry forgets your birthday)

Harry calls Y/N clingy and she leaves

Harm done (fav. Y/N makes Harry food but he doesn’t even like it)

Harry coming home to find Y/N locked herself up in the washroom

Don’t touch her (you’re in the crowd and somebody touches you while Harry’s performing. TW - sexual harassment and mild assault)

Why would you keep something like this from me? (In which she’s been feeling umcomfortable and doesn’t tell Harry. TW - mentions of assault)

Y/N and Harry get in a bad argument and Y/N gets a panic attack (TW - panic attack)

And I can’t give that to you (fav. In which Harry suffers from seasonal depression ands he doesn’t know how to help)

So tired (you join Harry on tour but he seems to have other prirorites. Angst w/ fluff on the way)                part 2

You have self-esteem issues (TW - talking about low self-esteem)

Y/N has an anxiety attack at a concert and calls Harry (TW - anxiety attack)

Even if it was momentary (in which Harry is forced to watch his worst nightmare)

Little white lie (a television talk show host feels you up backstage and you don’t tell Harry. TW - sexual harassment)     part 2

He hides the fact that he’s sick on tour form you and insults you when you try to take care of him

There’s an intruder in her house (Harry comes home to find his girlfriend is being threatenend by an intruder. TW - some curse words, mentions of sex & just in general subject of break ins and panic)

Narcissistic behaviour (Harry loves to talka bout himself, but it’s suppose to be Y/N’s special day)

Miss you (where Y/N loses Harry’s rose ring and he gives them the silent treatment)

Dizzy (Y/N gets hurt on Harry’s watch. TW - fainting/passing out)

Happy birthday (in which Y/N throws Harry a suprise birthday party, but Harry ends up making her cry)

Harry comparing you to Camille

Exhaustedly in love (Y/N passes out as soon as Harry comes home from tour because she has been studying day and night)

Go home (in which Harry is jet lagged and you’re completely humiliated)    part 2

Get out (Y/N is done with Harry being busy with work all the time)       part 2

Anesthesia and apologies (fav) 

Y/N has a condition that makes her have seizures (TW - mentions of seizures)

Harry loses his baby angel while shopping

Harry complains to the boys about Y/N and his sex life       part 2

You’re in love with Harry but your self-doubt won’t believe he’s in love with you

Don’t shout (Harry doesn’t know what to do after he lied to Y/N)

Make it up to you (Harry loses his temper and almost hits you. TW - almost being hit by a lover and swearing)

I’ll get there (Y/N has been struggling with her body image ever since she was a teenager, but now that she was becoming a big time model, it had only gotten worse. TW - mentions of eating disorders and symptoms similair to those of a panic attack)

Smut -

Harry comes home to Y/N being in subspace but he doesn’t realize

Needy baby (the one where Harry’s bakc from tour and his girl really just needs to feel him)

Shower head

Harry gets emotional because he loves you so much

Taste my lips, feel my touch (Y/N’s stuck in subspace and Harry helps her out of it)

Where Harry is an asshole CEO but Y/N is his little love

Happy anniversary

Y/N goes into sub space when she is overwhelmed, but now it happend in public

Then again sometimes I get really sweet (TW - belly humping)

This cutest thing ever

Crossing the finish line

Right choice (Harry has a moustache now and you want get it sticky. TW - swearings, sexual intercourse and a sticky moustache)

Timing (Harry cumming early and he is upset and disappointed)

Cause I’m high, chewing on your taste (TW - Sub!Harry, H in fishnets and pegging)

Out in the heartland (It’s Harry’s birthday and you have a very special gift for him. TW - daddy kink, pegging, anal fingering and rimming)

#one direction masterlist #harry styles masterlist

[serenity-songbird]

This is a request from Coolortweek.

I had so much fun writing these headcanons.

Here is the link to the au-

The Sam Marsh Show!!!

(There is a lot of characters so I'm really focusing on the Main 4 kids + Butters and those well acquainted with them. Sorry. It is quite a bit).

Let's just start off with the fact that everyone is just so fucking tired of Derrrick Cartman.

And yet...EVERYTIME he comes up with one if his schemes, they always get involved.

Like...you'd they'd have learned their lesson from the last hundred times.

But nope. It's always the same.

Sam is definitely the 'leader' of the group and Levi's the mother hen.

Oh no, you got a cut. Dont worry honey, Levi's got you.

Oh no, we're lost. If only someone had a mmma-*Pulls out his map and compass* Oh well where did that come from!? Just what we needed!!! Just in the nik of time.

The duo work great together in crisis situations. Levi keeps Sam focused and Sam keeps Levi from falling into paranoia.

Mallory is also, there for her boyfriend and will calm him down when Sam isn't around.

While, she hates being pulled into Derick's schemes, she can't lie...they make for really great headlines.

Always has her camera, pens, and paper on hand. You can never know when a good scope will roll around.

Poor Ann always gets pulled into Derick's schemes with her brother.

But her resourcefulness always helps them out so they appreciate her help.

Ann definitely gets a little jealous when Sam and his girlfriend and Sophie get all lovey dovey.

Betty also gets grossed out when they do that.

She'll tease her brother about it relentlessly.

As the voice is reason, she is quick to get the group out of tough spots.

Usually catches on to Derick's plans and will warn the others.

She's also always there to help Teddy with his gullibility.

Will also try and help Teddy to not be fooled by Derick's lies and tricks.

Though most of the time, she is not there, he always gets himself into trouble and grounded.

It's mostly Derick's fault.

In situations where the group needs a distraction, you can always count on Sophie Anderson to take the stage!!!

Whether it be tapdancing to confuses bystander.

Performing a Shakespearean play to get the people around to ponder whatever the hell Shakespearean language is.

Or simply looking pretty and smiling to distract a crowd and get them fawning.

Your girl had got you!!!

Kendal and Kelsey McCormick are a duo that can't be beat!

(You know, when Ken convinces Kelsey to join them in there adventures).

They totally will whisper perverted jokes to each other to help Kelsey get over her nerves.

I imagine Kendal being accident prone like his father, but not so much as dying.

"Oh no they killed Kendall!!! "You basta-oh no wait he's fine"

Kelsey gets a lot of near heartattacks but .

We've already talked about all the good things about the kid's adventures.

Now let's talk about the bad kid who is usually the cause of the most dangerous adventures and most of the time makes things worse.

...Derick Cartman.

Boy oh boy is there a lot to say on this dude.

If you thought Eric Cartman was bad, wait til you meet his son.

Literally everyone hates him.

The closest he can call a friend is Teddy, but that's because he is so gullible and easy to fool.

Most of the times his laziness and bigotry don't help any situation the kids are in.

Buuut there are times he can be useful. That you can't lie.

His manipulative nature and his way of words often turn the tide during dangerous events.

It is a wonder why they still hang out with him.

Honestly, he is like a cockroach. You can never truly get rid of them...

For the most part, these children take after their parents.

Living in South Park is an adventure itself.

#south park #south park au #south park x reader #south park headcanons #sp style

[haaarry]

having thoughts of going to the taping with H and after spill your guts he comes back stage and tries to kiss you and you’re playfully hitting him and saying no 🥺

I love this too much so I’m writing a lil sumn sumn

///

Y/N feels giddy as she watches from backstage.

She wanted to be out in the audience, but Harry’s team thought it would be too problematic for her to be seen along Harry’s ex, Kendall, hence why she’s behind a curtain having to watch her boyfriend on a somewhat large screen eat various, disgusting foods when asked a question he doesn’t want to answer. She nearly gags every time he takes a bite, and it doesn’t help the nerves in her belly from watching him be so happy and loose with his ex. To be honest, Y/N thought she would hate Kendall upon meeting her the first time, but she’s actually not too bad. She still has her not-so-great moments, so they aren’t best friends or anything, but they say hello to each other at functions and can talk cordially. She’s also a tad jealous of her figure, but Harry always makes her feel beautiful when she gets in a rut like that. He doesn’t like when she compares herself to his exes. They are his exes for a reason.

After the segment is over, they cut to a commercial break, and Harry is quick to go backstage to find his little love.

“Babyyy,” he sings. “I just ate the head of a scorpion and some cod sperm, so I’m ready for a kissy.” He puckers his lips when he finds her, running in her direction with his arms sticking straight out. Y/N shrieks, shielding herself from him.

“Ew, Harry!” Yet disgusted, she also finds the situation comical. “Go use mouth wash first, mister!”

“Nooo,” he drawls on, hanging onto her like a koala. “I want a kiss now.” His lips press to her cheek, and she caves in on herself.

“You are not going to kiss me while you still have scorpion and fish cum residue in your mouth!”

Harry’s head falls back in laughter, and he wishes he could take them back to his dressing room to make the moment last longer, but the show must go on.

“When the show’s over, I expect a kiss, missy.”

///

Y/N watches with a grin on her face as Harry hosts the show, seemingly a natural. He banters just the right amount and keeps the atmosphere light and warm. She laughs hard when Tracee Eliss Ross does or says something to make it seem like she has a tiny crush on Harry, and she even finds herself chuckling when Harry and Kendall interact. She thought she’d be envious tonight, watching the two, but she’s not (well, maybe a little). She will say, however, that a tinge of jealousy tries to worm its way into her heart when he recalls how he met Kendall, going down memory lane, but she forbids it. She has nothing to be jealous of, really — Harry loves her and only her.

And the show wraps up before she knows it (there are just a lot of commercial breaks so it goes by quickly). She waits backstage for Harry, but Kendall tags along. She thought the whole cast must be coming this way, but she sees Tracee exit another route.

It’s okay, it’s okay, she tells herself.

She can’t lie and say Harry and Kendall don’t compliment each other when standing side-by-side. They look like the typical rockstar/model couple.

Shut up, her subconscious adds. He’s with you.

The two celebrities walk up to Y/N, and she’s surprised when Kendall gives her a hug, barely having enough time to pat her on the back in return.

“Tonight was so much fun!” Kendall exclaims, squeezing Y/N’s hands in hers, as if she were on the show tonight. “We should all hang out! We never have before.”

Harry grins back and forth between the two women, trying to gauge Y/N’s reaction time.

“Uh,” Y/N starts, “that sounds... sure! Yeah, why not?” She blows air through her lips, waving her hand in the air.

“Oh, cool! I don’t have your number, so I’ll text Harry, and he can put us in a groupchat to discuss details, okay?” The model’s already running off, blowing kisses in their direction as she makes her way toward her dressing room.

“Okay...” Y/N feels... well, she doesn’t know. The thought of hanging out, the three of them, doesn’t sound bad, but she doesn’t necessarily like Harry being in a groupchat with his ex. She knows they still text — they’re friends — but she doesn’t want to see how they text each other.

On another note: Kendall’s invitation didn’t hold a hint of malice, as if she really wanted to genuinely enjoy Harry and Y/N’s time. That makes her happy; a fair share of Harry’s exes have tried to get back with him, right in front of Y/N by flirting and whatnot, so it’s relieving to know Kendall simply wants friendship.

“Hellooo,” Harry presses his forehead to hers. “Are you in there? I’ve been saying your name for the past ten seconds, and you’ve been ignoring me.”

Y/N hadn’t realized she’d gone into daydream land. It usually happens when she’s deep in thought, trying to process her emotions.

“Oh!” She chirps. “Yeah, I’m good. I was just thinking.”

“About the... groupchat thing?” He seems nervous, weary of her response. They begin walking to his secluded dressing room as they carry on the conversation.

“Mhmm,” she nods her head.

“And?” He presses on.

Y/N enters the room first, Harry right behind her. She takes off her heels immediately, sighing in relief.

“And... I’m okay with it.” She turns the corner to the bathroom (Harry’s room is very large) and returns with mouthwash, Harry chuckling.

“All right,” he snags the bottle from her, however still managing to steal a kiss at the corner of her mouth, to which she shrieks.

He comes back promptly, after rinsing his mouth out, and plops down on the couch.

“Gonna come sit with me?” He taps his thighs, ready for a few minutes of cuddling before they have to leave the studio.

Y/N lets out a breath accompanied by a tiny, almost minuscule laugh, and goes to stand between Harry’s legs.

“Almost there,” his long fingers wrap around her wrist, tugging downward. She gives in, seating herself on his lap, with both thighs astride his. Harry looks over the moon, elated that his second time hosting went so well, and now he’s back in his dressing room enjoying some alone time with his love; he couldn’t be more content. Y/N, on the other hand, looks distant. Her face holds the slightest bit of a smile, but like she’s forcing it. “Well, I was gonna ask for my kiss now, but you don’t look like you want me to even touch you right now.” Hurt is laced in his voice, withdrawing his arms from around her back.

“I’m just in my own head,” she tries to excuse her unloving demeanor. Harry massages tiny circles into her biceps with his thumbs, as a tactic to get her to continue. “I feel silly saying it,” she laughs.

“Your feelings are never silly,” he reassures her.

“You really loved Kendall, didn’t you?”

The question is abrupt, almost feeling like someone dug their nails into Harry. It catches him off guard, to say the least.

“Yes,” he says honestly. Y/N shifts in his lap, and he knows she’s trying to leave, but he can’t have that. “But-“ he grabs her face in both hands, forcing her to look at him. “That was years ago, and it was nothing like how I love you. Are you kidding?” He chuckles, cheeks turning pink. “Oh, my God, I love you so much. I love all the hideous knick-knacks you’ve put around the house-“

“Hey!” Now it’s Y/N’s turn to laugh, a bonafide one. “My knick-knacks are cute! I’m trying to spruce up our home.”

“That ceramic, orange baby elephant sitting on our coffee table is not sprucing up our home.” The crinkles by his eyes begin to form, and Y/N leans in to give him a small peck underneath his right eye. She doesn’t know why she likes doing that so much — maybe because the skin is so thin there, making the kiss more intimate.

“Hmm,” he hums in content upon feeling Y/N’s lips on his skin. “I still haven’t gotten my kiss from earlier.” His palm cups her jaw, bringing her closer to his face. “Can I have it now?” Y/N ends his suffering and presses her lips to his, molding into one in a matter of seconds. “Oh, yes, baby,” he moans dramatically into her mouth, causing an abundance of serotonin to erupt in Y/N’s brain, flowing all through her body. She snorts against his lips, which isn’t sexy, but they’ve been dating for so long that neither one cares.

The kiss remains innocent for a while, just giving each other small pecks it seems like, but those are the types of kisses that drive each other crazy. They both know how riled up each one can get from being teased for too long, so Y/N isn’t surprised when she feels Harry’s hands hike her dress up on her thighs to bunch at her waist.

“Harry,” her breath fans across his face, “they’re gonna kick us out in like... like ten minutes.” She’s a whimpering mess already, grinding down onto the bulge in his pants.

“You better cum fast, then.”

The you echos in her brain, wondering why he would say that and not we (she thought he was going to let her ride him) but is demonstrated when his fingers move her panties to the side.

His middle finger touches her, tapping the pad of it against her clit repeatedly. “Look at you,” he pulls his hand back just a tad, a string of her wetness following. “How’re you already so wet? We just started.” He holds the biggest smirk Y/N’s ever seen, and she’d tease him back if she weren’t already so far gone.

“Shut up,” she remarks with a pout to her lip.

“What, you don’t like me talking about your puffy, little clit?” Slow circles begin to be subjected to Y/N’s euphoric spot between her thighs. “I thought you liked when I talk about your cunt.”

Y/N mewls against Harry’s lips, knowing that when the filthy words start to tumble out of his mouth, she’s bound to reach her release in a matter of seconds — which is sort of embarrassing, considering he only started touching her not even thirty seconds ago.

“You like when I touch you and tell you how ready you always are for me.” Two fingers duck down to slip inside her, tucking away in her pink walls. “Say it.” He keeps his hand still, not moving any digits.

Y/N’s grown hot in the face, and her chest feels tight — but that’s from all the arousal.

“I like when you talk about my...” she becomes shy, biting her lip. “Me... down there.”

“Your what?” He encourages her with a few pumps of his strong fingers, caressing her wet, warm honey pot between her legs.

Y/N fusses, her pout more prominent. She loves and hates that being teased during anything sexual is a turn on for her. “You know.”

Harry’s smile grows tenfold, working his thumb on her clit. “Okay, I won’t make you say it,” his fingers curl inside her, earning him a whine, “this time.”

Every digit works in tandem on his hand, circling her clit in diligent motions, and his middle and ring stuffing her full, twisting and turning as they come out. Y/N’s always been a sucker for Harry’s hands, always wanting to hold them whenever they’re together or give them kisses, so it’s no wonder she goes absolutely mad when he has one between her thighs, making her little flower blossom with every touch.

“Harry, I’m... I’m almost...” She can’t say the words, too enthralled in her euphoric state.

“I know, sweet girl.” Each time his fingers enter her, he curls them, wanting to stimulate every square inch of her squishy, soaked walls. “You’re squeezing my fingers so tight, bet I couldn’t even fit my cock inside.” Y/N throws her head back, pushing her chest toward Harry’s in the first thrawls of her orgasm. “Yes, yes,” he eggs her on, “cum for me, all over my fingers, baby girl.” Her thighs tense, feeling almost as if she could get a cramp in the back of her legs from clenching her muscles so hard.

“Ah,” she whimpers, tossing her head forward to lay against his, letting Harry breathe in her moans, lips smeared together.

She takes a moment to relax from her orgasm, resting her cheek on Harry’s shoulder to enjoy the scent of his suit to bring her back down.

“You all right?” He always asks her this after he makes her come, rubbing her back as well with his large hands to soothe her further.

“Yes,” she giggles, although not lifting her head. She grabs his hand and slips his fingers past her lips, sucking her wetness off of them. She likes that he can’t see her do it (at least not completely bc of the odd angle) and she knows it’s driving him crazy.

“So, you won’t say ‘pussy’ or ‘cunt’, but you’ll lick my fingers after I just fucked you with them?”

Y/N opens his blazer and hides her face in it, feeling too embarrassed to be seen.

“Shut up,” she begs, voice muffled by his shirt.

“M’just teasin’.” He kisses the top of her head, letting her stay inside his blazer for as long as she pleases because the warmth from her breath is quite calming and comforting, he thinks. “Ya know I love you,” his index and thumb pinch the roll of skin at her side, “and only you.”

Y/N’s never doubted that.

#harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot

[jarofstyles]

Fan Club II

A/N: Let the tension begin to build 😈This part is a little shorter than the others but it’s a necessary step - n + d

send feedback and requests here

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: angst, anxiety attack, and tender moments

word count: 3.5k

Harry was confused on all levels. Y/N was in his brain like a damn worm and didn’t seem to ever be coming out of it. That was the most frustrating part. It had been about a week, his second bakery visit being short and sweet with another hug and asking for 2 more lemon squares, but he had been a bit bland with texting back. He was trying to distance himself. Not fall for the good girl next door act. 

“Harry, please at least make this believable tonight. I’ve seen a few tweets talking about you going to the bakery so someone must have been a fan in there, so make sure tonight you’re a gentleman to her. People are watching.” Jeff Warned. It wasn’t like Harry sat around and complained about her. He barely said a word. He did tell Jeff he didn’t trust her, but he had restricted any social media usage because he knew the moment he found Y/N’s pages he would stalk her for a while. He would need to make sure it didn’t happen. 

They were sharing a car to the restaurant, and everyone knew the secret so when they pulled up to Y/N’s place, Harry felt a little more relaxed. Jeff would take over until showtime at the restaurant. There would be paparazzi by the time they left, but going in would be far easier.

Y/N was nervous to say the least. This would be her first time being photographed officially with Harry, holding hands and everything. It was a big deal and she wanted to look nice. She had done her whole routine, showering and smelling nice, doing a light makeup that she saw all his past girlfriends do, and changed into her outfit. She felt sexy but still fashionable, definitely not too expensive. Just the right amount of everything. 

When she got the text saying the car was there, she knew it was game time. Y/N made sure to bring her keys, her phone, and wallet, putting it all in a small fashionable blue over the shoulder bag before walking to the elevator and making her way out to the car. 

“Hey.” Y/N smiled as she opened the door, climbing into the car and buckling up. God he looked delicious. His hair was all floppy, his outfit matching hers in a strange way. The two of them together looked good, she couldn’t lie. “You look nice.” She said once again, but she really did mean it. “Smell nice too.”

They both sat in the back seat, Jeff and his wife in the front. Harry smiled lightly and nodded. “Uh, thanks. You too.” He went back to his phone. Honestly, if he didn’t? He would have died. Honest to god died. Her tits looked immaculate. Harry hadn’t seen them like this before but he was nearly choking on the way he wanted to bury his face between them. The first he had dated weren’t really all that big in that department— nothing wrong with that. But she had the perfect amount. Perfect handfuls. Something he was positive would be lovely to suck on. Fuck— fucking hell. 

He had to look at his phone or he would get hard. Y/N smelled good too. Like coconuts, vanilla. He wasn’t sure if that was a perfume or a bakery thing but he enjoyed it thoroughly. They kind of matched, too. which was weird. They hadn’t discussed it. 

Y/N sighed a little, not really knowing what she was expecting considering they were in private. She would rather spend no time with him in private if this was the case. She went all out to look nice for him to just say, ‘you too’? God this would be hard. 

“Hi Jeff, hi Glenne, it’s nice to meet you.” Y/N spoke sweetly, “I’d give you a hug, but you know.” She chuckled and sat back, trying to ignore the fact that Harry was ignoring her. What a terrible fake boyfriend he was, really wasn’t into the whole method acting thing. 

“Hey!” Jeff greeted. “Are you ready for the first pap run?”

“You sound so cheery about it.” Y/N laughed, “I guess I’m ready.” She shrugged and pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “I reckon dinner will be fun, bit more excited about that. Get to chat with you all a little more.” It was the honest truth. She wanted to spend some quality time with Harry and with Jeff and his wife. If she was going to spend a full year knowing them? Hell, she wanted to make the most of it. She didn’t just want to fake being friends with them.

Was she serious? Harry thought. Come on. That wasn’t real. There was no way she actually thought they would buy that excuse. She didn’t give a fuck. No way. But of course— both of them bought into it. It was like Harry was the only one who could see that this was sketchy. That it wasn’t what was right. She was too sweet for her own good and that alone had Harry very, very suspicious. He listened to them chatter and took glances at her every so often. This would be torture for him. The whole thing. He was so physically attracted to her that he was worried that it may show when they weren't supposed to be acting. Y/N seemed to get along with them great. It was another thing that made him want to pull his hair out. She had to be bad in some way. No one was genuinely this nice and sweet without having a bad side. Gorgeous or not.

Jeff and Glenne were genuinely nice people, and Y/N was thankful that at least they were being open. Then again, Jeff was Harry’s best friend, then surely there was just something wrong with her. It had been a few days since they met and Harry wasn’t letting up no matter what she did. It would be a slow burn she assumed. She looked over at him, catching him already looking at her with a small smile. Y/N turned her attention back to the front of the car, watching as Jeff pulled up to the restaurant. 

It was go time. Y/N walked out of the car after Harry, moving her hand to hold on to his bicep as they walked towards the restaurant. She didn’t really have a method to her acting, she simply did whatever felt natural. Let herself go whenever they were out in public.

Harry placed his hand over hers and squeezed. He could tell she was nervous, and regardless he didn’t want her to be nervous here and feel upset. Especially when they’d be looked at and photographed. 

When they walked into the place, he looped an arm around her waist and let her lean into him. He felt a small hand on his jacket lapel and let her play with it as Jeff took care of the reservation arrangements. They’d been sat outside at a nice place with those bulb string lights, lots of plants. They’d be sat facing people so photos could be taken— but the people wouldn’t know that. He’d have to keep a good face this whole time. It was going to be a new challenge but part of him was giddy to be able to play it up and touch her during this time.

Y/N’s nerves weren’t really that noticeable, but to anyone else it would just seem like she was nervous because she was on a date with Harry. It was a normal reason to be nervous and frankly, she felt it made her seem more relatable. Despite the fact that Harry and Y/N were acting, they seemed to flow quite naturally and easily off of one another. It didn’t take a lot of effort, she just leaned into him whenever he touched her and vice versa.

“Ooo this is nice.” Y/N commented on the look of the place. She had obviously never been here before, but it looked like it would be good. The smell coming from the kitchen was incredible as well. “Thank you again for inviting us out..” Y/N said to Jeff, purposefully saying us instead of me so anyone who heard knew they meant Y/N and Harry as a pair. She scooted her chair a little closer to Harry, making sure there was enough space for them to have subtle touches if need be. Y/N wasn’t sure what Harry would want, but she wanted to have their options open and ready. She had never seen him actually interact with a woman like this except for when he was with Kendall and those photos leaked. She wondered how he would act when he meant for people to see.

Harry felt the pressure but also knew he was lucky Jeff was here to keep the conversation going. He was feeling a little awkward but fell into his conversation relatively easily. 

“So the bakery... Harry said it’s lovely. That the lemon squares are amazing.” Glenne broke the ice, opening up her menu. It was a midrange pricing so he was hoping that she wouldn’t freak too bad. Money really wasn’t an object to Harry. Granted, most of his clothes were gifted to him and he didn’t pay for much luxury items because they were sent for promotion, but he didn’t mind spending if it was for a good time. He had millions. 

“They are very good. I like them a lot. All of the things are great, though.” Harry complimented sincerely but she wouldn’t know that. His arm hung over the back of her chair, subtly showing ownership. that’s what it would come across as anyways. Most people wouldn’t know this about Harry but he was possessive, jealous, and pathetic when it came to his lovers. He didn’t like sharing. He loved being alone with them and being in their own worlds. He hadn’t had a perfect fantasy of that yet but he figured he may as well get out his affectionate wants when it was supposed to be shown. Pass it off as acting.

Y/N smiled brightly when her bakery was mentioned, her pride and joy. She was just about to speak when he complimented her baking even more. That was cute. Too bad it was all acting. She needed to get out of that mind frame though and really sink into the character. She’d deal with her emotions at a later time. 

“That’s sweet, thank you.” Y/N smiled over at him, setting her hand on his thigh and rubbing her thumb against the fabric of his pants. “But yeah, my sister opened it up 5 years ago and I co-own. We have a solid flow of customers. It’s really fun, we’ve been saving to get it refurbished.” Y/N explained, also looking down at the menu. She quickly decided on the grilled miso salmon and carried on speaking. “I want to buy the upstairs bit as well. Want to open it up to local musicians to have gigs there and stuff. Also possibly wanted to do a kids baking class. Lots of ideas.” Y/N smiled, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. She was really ambitious and career driven, always wanting to improve. It was something she took pride in and hopefully Harry would come to admire about her.

Harry was impressed. She had ideas and they didn’t seem to involve being famous, so to speak. She seemed to want her bakery to do well but anyone who had a business desires it to thrive.

“That’s a lovely idea, pet.” His hand took purchase on her shoulder then. It was bare, jacket off so he ran his thumb over the softness of her skin there. Absolutely delicious. Y/N had to know that she was fucking gorgeous. That she had inspired many a man’s fantasies. He could see down her shirt slightly and had to adjust slightly, knowing he would get a stiffy if he continued. Harry was watching for any telltale signs she was lying but from what he could tell, she really did want to do that to her bakery. And that was pretty admirable. 

It took a second for Y/N to relax into Harry’s touch, not having expected it. The feeling of his rough calloused fingers caused butterflies to erupt in her tummy. She could only imagine how good they would feel on her clit— fuck she had to stop. 

“Lots of musicians in the town would thrive off of it. A little bit of exposure and a place to play goes miles for people who aren’t very hopeful.” Jeff confirmed. “You’ll have to ask Harry for opinions when you do that. He’s good at that stuff— the stage design.”

Y/N hummed in response, “I’m sure Harry could come up with some brilliant ideas, always does.” She complimented, sending him a small wink just to keep the ball rolling. It was nice to be able to flirt and know that it was meant to be reciprocated. Maybe this whole acting thing wouldn’t be too bad? She could just live out her fantasies like this. 

The waiter came and brought over a bottle of wine for the table and took all of their orders. Though the restaurant was mid range, she still had a feeling that this was a place posh people went. She’d have to get used to that as well. Y/N felt too normal for places like this, but then again, Jeff was really good at making her feel comfortable.

To Harry, the dinner was weird. Not in a bad way. But he had found that their chairs had gotten closer during the meal. They’d touched each other a bit— not sexually. Or trying to be sexual, he should say. He had been living out part of a mental fantasy, letting her hold his hand and play with his rings when they waited for the food to come. Y/N hadn’t gone for the most expensive thing— rather a cheaper item and he had tried coaxing her into getting something a bit more, but she said no. It was weird that she was acting like money didn’t motivate her. Isn’t that why she took the damn job? But they’d been touching subtly and talking, Harry smiling down at her pretty little face. He had an urge to kiss her too— which had scared the fuck out of him. He wanted to swoop in and taste her gloss before it went away but he couldn’t. When they finished though, Harry looked at her and began to talk. 

“Listen— May get intense, yeah? Lots of cameras flashing. Just hold on to my hand and don’t let go.” He was serious. There were a lot of cameras and a lot of flashes and he didn’t want her to freak.

This part did make Y/N nervous. The cameras. She had seen pap videos previously and they always made her uncomfortable to watch. It was scary having people say things to you whilst bright cameras were flashing. 

“Okay, I trust you.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, giving him a small smile that really was only meant for him. Part of her didn’t want this night to be over, she wanted to hang out with him some more and chat with him. It was her day off tomorrow so she didn’t mind staying up late and going home if that’s what he wanted. She doubted he would want her to stay the night.

Harry held her hand and as soon as they stepped out, the cameras flashed like crazy. Asking Harry to look at them, to say who his girl was. Who she was. How old she was, what’s her name. Were they dating? But Harry got irritated when he felt her move behind him, seeing someone had pushed her slightly and she had stumbled. He stopped in the middle, gently grabbing her hip and pulling her to walk with him. 

“Be careful, mate.” Harry said to the pap, brows furrowed. “Alright, love?” Y/N looked flustered, but nodded. So he continued on, lifting her by her waist and putting her in the car before climbing in behind her. Genuine concern took over when he saw her breathing heavier, face knitted in concern as he gently pulled her over and let her hide her face in his neck. His glare was actually visible to the outside where people took photos through the windows before Jeff sped off. “Hey.. Y/N? You okay?” Harry spoke, pulling her back.

The experience was something Y/N couldn’t explain. As a person who had mild anxiety, she thought that she could handle a situation like that but it was intense in a way that she truly didn’t know what to explain to anyone. You really just had to experience it to know. When she was pushed it really sent her into a small panic, trying her best to hide her face a little now that she’d felt what paps could really be like. Harry came through though and genuinely helped her. She was so thankful for him and for him sticking up for her as well. It meant a lot. It went by so quickly she could barely process it, a bit shaky and out of breath. Going off instinct she nuzzled her face into Harry’s neck, taking deep breaths to calm herself down and relax. It was over, she had jumped the first hurdle and things would get easier from there. At least that’s what she told herself. 

“Y—yeah, I’m okay... that was just.. a lot.” Y/N told him in a soft voice, still close to him but she wasn’t sure if that was okay. Y/N decided that it would be more hurtful if he moved her off than if she moved herself, but she really couldn’t do that right now. “I’ll be okay, just need a second..”

“It’s okay.” Harry rubbed her back a few times. He wasn’t a complete asshole. She was obviously shaken and he couldn’t even blame her. He wasn’t sure why so many had popped up— he was positive they’d only called for 3 but, that’s a later question. “You’re alright? Yeah? Shit’s scary sometimes but you made it through.” He didn’t know why he slightly melted but seeing her in genuine fear and feeling her shake slightly against his body made his urge to protect her come right to the front. “Jeff, drive around for a bit, yeah? Pop into Waitrose and get her a drink.” He could tell that she was going to be okay but needed a little coddling. He continued to rub her back and let her hide in his neck. Her breath was hot against his neck, and he felt her start to calm down.When Jeff came back, Harry gave her the drink and gently peeled her away, letting her stay seated close to him. “Slow sips. Just relax. You did great.”

Y/N kept herself nuzzled into the crook of his neck while she waited, finding that to be the safest place on earth. She relaxed just by taking in his scent and feeling his heart beat through the pressure point that beat against where her nose was. That combined with his hand on her back was doing the trick. This wasn’t acting and she knew it wasn’t. It gave her hope that he wasn’t in fact a shit person, he was concerned and cared enough to ask Jeff to drive around some more and get her a drink. She really did appreciate it and him. 

“Thank you.” Y/N said quietly, taking the bottle into her still slightly shaky hands and took a small sip before taking another slow one. Y/N did do great, she knew she did. She had seen enough pap videos to know how to elegantly carry herself, but there were way too many paps there. She’d never seen that many. Maybe people were just that excited to see Harry have a girlfriend.

Harry knew later on he wouldn’t regret being kind to her right now. She was genuinely terrified and he didn’t want that for anyone. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she didn’t want fame, but that didn’t mean he could trust her. Maybe he could be nicer. But he had to keep a distance because his cock was not on board with that. It wanted to bury itself in her plump little ass. But whatever— he could use that visual later. 

“You’re alright, Y/N.” Harry watched her carefully. “Didn’t know that many were going to be out there but, don’t worry. We’ll make sure we do our very best so that doesn’t happen again.” She wouldn’t get away from paps— but having 20 flashing cameras blinding her and pushing? That wouldn’t ever happen again. He was willing to risk his career on that. No human decency. 

“Now, let's get you home.”

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

[part 3]

A/N: H is soft, he cracks under pressure 🤧- n + d

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masterlist

#writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry writing #jarofstyles

[dvp95]

quiet on widow’s peak (12)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester, pj liguori/sophie newton/chris kendall rating: teen & up tags: paranormal investigator, mystery, online friendship, slow burn, strangers to lovers, nonbinary character, trans character, background poly, phil does some buzzfeed unsolved shit and dan is a fan word count: 3.2k (this chapter), 38.7k (total) summary: Phil’s got a list of paranormal experiences a mile long that he likes to share with the world. Abandoned buildings, cemeteries, and ghost stories have always called his name, and a particular fan of his has a really, really good ghost story.

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

"You really don't know how to use chopsticks at all, huh?"

Phil ignores Dan's quiet, amused voice to keep attempting capture of the elusive sashimi. Eventually, he gives up and picks it up with his fingers. He pops it in his mouth and looks at Dan, despite all his common sense telling him it's a bad idea.

It's definitely a bad idea. The lighting is lower than in the coffee shop, tinged warm by the candles around the place - thankfully, none of them are on the table where Phil might accidentally elbow one and set the place ablaze - and Dan is sitting right across from him with shiny, smiling lips and dark, sparkling eyes. Phil reminds himself that this is not a date, that he wouldn't ask Dan on a date. Because Phil dates guys.

Well, not so much of the dating anyone at all thing as of late, but the point stands. Phil likes men and he likes everything that's classically attached to men, and he's not really interested in examining his sexuality in further detail at this point in his life. Still. Here Dan is, giggling at his attempts to wrangle sushi and asking about the footage corruption like it genuinely matters to them. Their feet keep knocking into Phil's own, because the table is small and both of them have Slenderman leg proportions. It also keeps happening because Dan seems to have a very hard time sitting still.

Their foot taps along to a beat that doesn't match the soft music over the speakers and their hands gesticulate with every question they ask, every story they tell. It's like they have a day's worth of energy that they've been building up while sitting in a lecture and making Phil a bunch of hot drinks.

"My family aren't big on going out to eat," Phil says, wondering how many times Dan's foot needs to bump his own before he can make a joke about playing footsie. "You're lucky I know how to use a fork and knife."

Dan giggles again. Phil loves the sound of that so much more than he thinks he should be allowed to.

"Lucky me," Dan teases, reaching for Phil's ginger with their own deft chopsticks. Phil considers batting them away, maybe engaging in a chopstick swordfight, but then he remembers that they're in public. "I guess my family didn't go out to eat much either, but that was more about the lack of money than anything else."

For a moment, Phil doesn't know how to respond to that. He's never quite known how to react when people drop things like that in casual conversation. Dan doesn't seem to notice his hesitation, because they're too busy stealing some of Phil's edamame.

"My mum just thought nobody could cook as well as she did," Phil jokes, pulling his edamame closer to him protectively. "At least, that's what she told us. I think she just couldn't be bothered wrangling us."

"You've got siblings?" Dan asks. They sound genuinely interested in the answer.

It's not a date, Phil reminds himself. They're friends, and Dan just wants to get to know him better.

"I've got an older brother," says Phil. "So it was just the two of us, but I've often been told we were frustrating enough for ten."

Dan laughs. "I can imagine. I mean, I don't know your brother, but I bet you started poking your head where it didn't belong a long time before you started getting paid for it." Their foot nudges Phil's again, but this time it seems like it's on purpose. "Bet you were a handful - I know I was. My brother was easy, I think. I was there for most of it, I guess, and he never caused nearly as much trouble as I did, but I think we were head to head in the annoying race."

"I have been informed that I could be a bit of a handful."

"Shocker."

Phil gives in to the urge of doing something silly and tosses an edamame bean at Dan's face. There's no staff looking at them that he can see, and it makes a lovely peal of laughter burst from Dan, so he considers it a win all around.

"Does your family live around here?" Phil asks. Dan's accent clearly isn't local, but their family could have moved at any point.

Something twists in Dan's expression, too quickly for Phil to name it. They settle their chin in one of their open palms, resting both elbows on the table in a way that would have Phil's mum batting at them. "No," they say, strangely slow about it. They seem to be deciding how much they want to say, because they end up shrugging and gesturing around vaguely with their free hand. "Adrian's with our uncle in Austria. No idea where exactly either of my parents are right now, but thank almighty fuck they're not somewhere together."

"Oh," Phil says. He doesn't really know what else to say. This is way out of his depth, not something he's had a lot of practice with talking about. It doesn't seem like it's particularly bothering Dan to talk about it, it's just that Phil has no idea how he's supposed to carry on a conversation with something like 'I'm glad my parents aren't together and I don't know where they live'.

Dan smiles rather kindly, like they know exactly what Phil is thinking and they don't blame him for it. Of course, Phil could be projecting wildly.

"It's okay," they say. Phil doesn't know them well enough to be able to tell when they're lying for sure, but they seem sincere enough. "I've been living on my own for a few years and don't keep up with them much. I go south to see my nana sometimes."

"That's good," Phil says blankly, chasing another piece of sashimi for something else to focus on. The last thing he wants to do is say the wrong thing and make Dan feel uncomfortable being around him.

"Do you get to see your family a lot?" Dan asks.

The question is a normal one, and his family is a topic that Phil usually jumps to discuss, but things are rocky enough emotionally for him right now that he can't even muster up the regular amount of enthusiasm. He shrugs. "I talk to them a couple times a week and see them every few months or so? Martyn lives in London, so I get to see him more often, but he's also like... much busier than I am. Mostly I just stay home with Peej and Sophie and Chris."

"I really like them," Dan informs him. It's more of an announcement than a casual observation, like they think it's important for Phil to know what they think of his friends.

It is. That's very important to Phil.

If this were a date - which it isn't - then Phil would probably crack some jokes about how much less fun they are when he's trying to have a lie-in or make a point of reminding Dan that Chris is flirtatious but harmless.

"I like them, too," he says instead. "They're all so weirdly nice to me that I think they're plotting my death, sometimes."

"I mean, that would get a lot of views," says Dan.

Phil laughs. "I can imagine it now. The mysterious life and death of Philip M. Lester... except my life isn't exactly mysterious, and PJ would not be good at lying to the police."

"You're a little mysterious," Dan says, pouring them both some more tea. They smile when Phil thanks them, their dimple in stark contrast in the lighting. "Not like you're skulking around in the night or whatever - but, listen, you do also do that. I just mean that it's... hard to tell what you're thinking."

"Good," Phil says lightly.

Luckily, Dan laughs like it's a joke. They don't need to be introduced to the exact height of Phil's emotional walls so early in the friendship.

"For example," Dan continues like they haven't been interrupted, "I've noticed that you keep staring at my mug, and I can't tell if it's because you're an insanely jealous Pokémon nerd or if you're trying to figure out what weird animals they are."

Talking about Pokémon is way easier than talking about family or friends or his own shortcomings as a human, so Phil jumps on the topic like he's been handed a life jacket. Dan has a surprisingly deep well of opinions about the games, and Phil starts to really enjoy himself while needling Dan with his own thoughts. Sometimes he pretends like he disagrees completely just to see the way Dan gets passionate, gesturing and getting louder and Googling facts to back their arguments up.

They've got a lot of other media in common, too, and Phil keeps waiting for Dan to not have an opinion on something. It hasn't happened yet. Even with things they haven't watched or read yet, they chatter on about reviews they've seen or theories they've been hearing. The singular time that Phil asks about a film they've never even heard of, Dan grins wide and asks him to tell them about it.

By the time their dinner and dessert and tea are all gone and the staff are starting to give them looks, Phil feels like he's never connected this quickly and easily with someone in his whole life. That's a dangerous thought, but it's also a nice one.

This isn't a date, because this can't be a date, because Dan isn't a guy and Phil only dates guys. Even so, when Phil pays the bill and follows Dan out to the pavement, he feels the bubbling nervousness that he associates with the endings of first dates. Dan walks him to his bus stop, rambling about how Phil must be watching The Walking Dead wrong if he really thinks it's boring. Their cheeks are rosy with the chilly air and the tips of their ears are bright pink. They are ridiculously, unbelievably cute. Phil wishes he could stop noticing details like that, things that are going to make it even harder for him to put that platonic distance between them.

Dan sways into his space a bit when they stop at the empty bus stop, but Phil can't tell if it's on purpose or if Dan is just wiggling around like they usually are.

"This was fun," they say, wrapping up their rant with zero segue.

"I think so," Phil agrees with a little smile. He checks the bus schedule on his phone for probably the fourteenth time today, anxious about missing it or getting on the wrong one or something and having to call his parents with a favour to ask. "And, hey, I'm in town again tomorrow if you want me haunting your place of work again."

Dan grins wide, the streetlights' warmth catching in their eyes and teeth in a mesmerizing sort of way. "I'm not working tomorrow," they say. "But I'd be happy to hang out after my lecture. What are you doing in town?"

"Oh," Phil says, then pauses. He remembers the fierceness in Dan's voice when they told him not to go back to the house by himself. Still, it's not like there's anything they can do to make him stay out of there. "I'm going back to the Wilkins place with my dad's old video camera. It's old, still uses tape, so I'm thinking corruption might not work on it."

"You're going back there by yourself?"

"Yeah, I'm going back," says Phil. He raises his eyebrows, daring Dan to keep arguing.

Dan is good at arguing, but once Phil has made his mind up about something, it's going to take a lot more than a persuasive pretty person telling him what to do to make him change it. Normally it would be annoying for someone to even try, but as confident as Phil is in his own ability to out-stubborn anyone on the topic of his own work, there's a part of him that thinks it's kind of sweet for Dan to worry so much. Ugh. He's got it bad.

It seems like some of his resolve is obvious in his expression or the set of his shoulders or whatever, because Dan just sighs loudly.

"Fine," they say. "I've got a Polaroid, I'll bring that too."

That hadn't been a tactic that Phil was anticipating. He's wrong-footed for a long moment or two as he waits for Dan to say they're kidding. "Uh," he says slowly. "You're not coming."

"Like fuck I'm not." Dan's stubborn face looks a lot like a frustrated, pouting toddler, but Phil still feels some of the effect. "You aren't going back there alone, I told you. I'm not letting you. And, sure, I don't know all the tricks of the trade or what the fuck ever, but you need someone to watch your back and make sure you don't stumble into more trouble. I'm your guy."

"You're not a guy," Phil says, because he doesn't really know what else to say.

That breaks Dan's seriousness, and they giggle into their large hand. Phil is already trying to apologise, but Dan waves him off like he's being ridiculous. "First of all," they say, "it's a figure of speech. And second of all, I'm not not a guy."

Phil can't think about that right now. His bus is visible a couple streets away and the last thing he needs is more confusion about Dan's identity on his plate.

"Sorry," Phil says again, just in case.

Dan rolls their eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow. I'm free after noon."

"Well, we won't go over there until after it gets dark," says Phil. "But I'll text you. We can - I dunno. Get something that's not sushi. Or just get sushi again, honestly, because I'm obsessed with it."

"Same," says Dan, dimples in full force. "We'll figure something out, anyway."

Before Phil can say anything else, Dan sways back into his space and gives him a tight, fleeting hug. "Tomorrow," they repeat before pulling away.

"Tomorrow," Phil agrees. His stomach is in knots and his bus is approaching, so all he can manage is a dorky wave before he has to start digging for change and preparing to make small talk with the bus driver. Dan waits until he's on the bus and gives him a two-finger salute before heading back down the way they'd come.

That detail, the fact that Dan had gone completely out of their way to walk Phil somewhere that he'd been vaguely anxious about, is almost enough to undo all of Phil's careful explanations of their actions towards him.

It wasn't a date. Phil hadn't asked them on a date.

But he's certain now, in a way that he's never been before, that he hadn't been the only one half-wishing it was.

--

Phil can't move.

He's not in the comfortable dullness of his childhood bedroom, where he'd fallen asleep. He's got rough wood under his back and dusty rafters above his head. He can hear the insistent sound of rain hitting the roof, but aside from that the attic is quiet.

He is alone in the Wilkins place and he can't move. For a very, very long time, nothing happens.

Then he feels pressure on his chest that hadn't been there before. He still can't see anything, but it's getting harder and harder to take breaths.

Just when he thinks he's going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, Phil wakes up.

--

"I've had nightmares about places we've investigated before," he says into the phone, hiding out in the kitchen while his parents watch some early morning news broadcast. He's got his clothes in the wash with some of his dad's stuff, so he's taken up roost at the breakfast bar with some cereal and he's been zoning out while looking at the spin cycle. "But they've never felt like... that."

"Like how?" Martyn asks. He's yawning a bit, and Phil almost feels bad about waking him so early.

"Like, real," says Phil. "I don't know how else to describe it, Mar. It felt like I was really there, like something was really sitting on my chest. I could smell the dust and hear the rain and - it felt real."

"Maybe it's not such a good idea to go back, then."

Phil huffs. "Are you kidding me? This just means I'm onto something."

"No, it means you're making reckless decisions because you want to be right so badly that you're willing to ignore warning signs," Martyn says flatly. "And, sure, maybe that's because there's actually something to investigate there, but is that a risk you're willing to take?"

The Wilkins place has never exactly been welcoming; Phil felt like there was someone watching him from the beginning, like they weren't alone in the old walls. And maybe it's stupid of him to keep going back when things had escalated last time into something he had no control over at all, but he knows he's right about this. That makes it hard for him to let go of it, to admit defeat and go back to Brighton with his tail between his legs.

This is his town. It doesn't matter that he's left or that his parents are leaving, too. These are the hills and the streets and the graveyards and the hospitals that he'd followed Martyn through until he was old enough to brave it on his own. He doesn't like the idea that something so relatively new could run him out of town with a nightmare and some flickering lights.

Maybe he does have something to prove. He doesn't plan on doing anything stupid, but he can at least recognise that the simple act of returning at night is stupid enough for the people who care about him to worry.

"I'll have Dan with me," says Phil.

"Oh, okay," Martyn says like he's found a corner piece in a jigsaw puzzle. "So there's a bloke involved."

Phil wants to say that Dan isn't a bloke, but he's got Dan's voice in his head semi-permanently now. He's pretty sure that Dan wouldn't object to the classification, and might even say that they're not not a bloke. Instead, he just sighs loudly. "It's not about Dan, knobhead. But they're, uh, kind of jumpy. So I won't spend more time in the Wilkins place than I strictly need to, okay? For their sake if nothing else."

"Promise?"

"Sure," Phil says, with far more irritation than he actually feels. If he acts prickly, then Martyn won't push. "Did you find out anything else about this place?"

"Not really," Martyn says through another yawn. "I guess Frankie said that some kids were fucking around with spells or something earlier this year? His sister and her friends got in shit for breaking and entering."

"Spells, okay." Phil pulls his phone away from his ear to make a note of that. "I think that was all the sigils we found upstairs, but I'll look closer at the other rooms."

"Be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

Phil hangs up before his brother can start pulling out any receipts.

#quiet on widow's peak #words words words

[holdmekhh]

I Like You, Do You Like Me? -Pt.1 (Jealous!Seungyoun / Enemies to Lovers)

Artist/Person : Cho Seungyoun/WOODZ

 Group/Crew : UNIQ/X1

Genre : SMUT/ Semi-Angst/ Fluff

Words : 3.6K

Requested: “ hi can you please write a super jealous seungyoun smut w daddy kink 🥺 i love your writing sm 💕💕”- Anon

A/N; I’m soooo sorry this was posted so late, I was on the road... But enjoyyy!

____

If looks could kill, Seungyoun would’ve been a goner. Her eyes were set ablaze at his grinning face. He stuck his tongue out, laughing obnoxiously when she stuck up her manicured middle finger. “Fuck off, Cho!” She hissed, her friends grabbing at her arms when she started to march towards the boy and his group of friends. “Is princess angry?” He mocked, a fake pout on his lips making her growl softly and fight against her friends’ hold. “Just let it go, he’s dumb.” One of her friends muttered, making the other one nod. “Let’s go get some lunch.” They nodded, glancing to each other and forcing her around as they led her away from the area. “Have fun, princess!” She heard him call to them, making her groan softly. 

“Why do you idiots do that shit? Just fucking ignore him.” Her friend, Kendall rolled her eyes. “You know why.” Her other friend, Erin, laughed as she wiggled her eyebrows. “They’re gonna end up fucking. We all know it’s gonna happen eventually.” The look of absolute irritation took over her face. “Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “But, nevermind that topic, are you guys gonna help me with my art assignment?” She muttered, half focused on pushing the bobby pins back into her hair to keep it neat, but keep them well hidden. “Of course, we’re helping you. The only person I’d let paint my fat ass.” Erin laughed, head falling back.  The three were best friends, all having met in middle school and stuck out together up until now, their second year of college. There was Kendall, a dark chocolate goddess. She was tall, standing at 5 '11, and thin. 100% stereotypical model material but was a complete tomboy, top it off with a genius scientist brain. Then, there was Erin, a gorgeous Mongolian queen. She was average height and was curvy as hell, though she wouldn’t agree with that statement. And, last but definitely not least, there was Y/N. She was introverted and didn’t like many people, and usually looked at people in the light of an art piece. Which isn’t always the best, or healthy way, to look at others when she didn’t fancy them too well. 

“Yeah, stay like that.” She muttered softly, looking at her friends through her camera lense before snapping away. “Turn your right side in just a little more. Shoulder forward. Yes, just like that.” She whispered at the end, adjusting the camera before snapping away for more photos. “Why’re we taking pictures instead you painting?” Erin muttered, raising an eyebrow at Y/N just as she snapped another picture. “Because if I just painted you guys and had y’all standing there, then it would take too long of y’all standing. With pictures-” She moved around and got close, snapping a few more before stepping back to look at the shots on her camera. “I can search through them and find which one I like the best and want to paint. We’re done by the way.” She stated, making the two rush over and look at the pictures. “Ugh, I’m so fat.” “Shut up, Erin. You look good as hell. Like, yo-look at that ass!” Y/N laughed and Kendalls words, nodding along silently as she glanced to her blushing friend. “Alright, go get dressed you two. Y’all can stay here and chill, order food and watch me paint, if you want.” She sat at her desk, connecting her camera to her desktop and transferring the photos. She’d become a master at these motions, getting the pictures transferred and a couple of them printed onto large pieces of photo paper in no time. Standing, she moved to set the photo down on a part of her eisel, against the canvas. “We’re gonna head out. Skype sesh in a few hours, so we can see how far you’ve gotten.” She hummed out in confirmation, looking back as her friends left. Overly exaggerated waves and blown kisses were exchanged until they disappeared, leaving her all alone in her studio.

It’d been almost 7 hours since Kendall and Erin had left, and she still hadn’t gotten to the actual painting. Melanie Martinez was blasting in the room, here eyes focused intently on the canvas as she continued to sketch the body and attire of her friends. She’d decided to make it into a greek renaissance kind of style, draping the drawn figures in soft strokes of silks. She was so into her painting, she didn’t hear the knocking on her studio door until the song ended and left a pause before the next one started. Her head whipped around to stare at the intruder through the glass barrier, eyebrows furrowing. Moving over, she lifted the needle from the vinyl and halted the music. Standing to make her way over, she pulled open the door with a soft grunt. “What?” She deadpanned at male in front of her. Wooseok was his name, he hung out with the asshat Seungyoun, but for the most part never gave her issues. “H-Hey...um, I wanted to ask um- I was told by the professor that you would be a good art history tutor...and I need a tutor for this upcoming test.” He stuttered along his whole speech, cheeks getting redder and redder the longer she stared at him. She nodded softly, “Okay. My pay rate is 10 an hour, so if you’re cool with that, I’m down to help.” Her voice was still emotionless, stable and clear as she stared at him making his stomach do backflips. He nodded, hold tightening on his backpack strap. “Would it be a problem if we did our first session now? It’s okay if not! I don’t want to intrude...I know you don’t really have the best impression of my character.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as it heated up. She merely looked at her watch and shrugged. “I planned on being here for a few more hours, so why not.” She opened the door wider and stepped to the side, allowing him in.  

The look of pure wonder took over his face as he looked around the room at all of her paintings. They were masterpieces. Pieces that could easily go for thousands. “You can pull out a chair from over there or you could sit on the couch.” She sat back down in front of her eisel, starting to sketch again. He watched for a few heartbeats, eyes intently watching how she held the pencil and stroked it lightly across the fabric of the canvas. “So, what level are you on? 101, 102?” Her voice made him jump back into reality, rushing to grab his material out his backpack. “U-Uh...101.” He stated, ear heating up in embarrassment, and nervousness. She was one of the top art students, he didn’t want her to look down on him because of his level in the subject, especially because he was a year above her. But, she simply nodded, asking him questions about the topic of the test. She stayed neutral throughout the whole session, explaining things that he needed extra understanding of. She even halted her drawing to give visual examples a couple of times. Then, she looked to her watch and stood from her seat and stretched. “Well, Wooseok, it’s almost midnight and I have to get back home.” She stated, watching the male nod and start to pack his things. Grabbing her bags of books and materials, she led him out of her studio, shutting off the lights and locking the door. “I’ll have the payment for you in cash tomorrow morning, promise.” He smiled after walking her to her car, making her nod as she got in. “Okay, see you around.” She started the vehicle and pulled out, going back to her apartment.

“Oh, look who’s here. Did you miss me, princess?” Seungyoun’s grinning face almost made her regret walking over, but the awaiting payment in Wooseoks hand made it worth it. “As if. I just came to get my money, then I’ll be out of here.” She deadpanned, walking to Wooseok as he slipped it to her with flaming cheeks. “My studio, tomorrow at 6.” She stated, making the blushing boy nod, before turning and walking away to her other class. “And what the fuck was that?!” Seungyoun stared confused as Hangyul started to poke at their friend for answers. “She started tutoring for my art history test…” “Since when?!” “Last night…” Seungyoun felt his face contort into one of disbelief. “Look, my professor suggested her to me and told me where to find her. She said she’d do it, and her pricing isn’t that bad. And, I’m pretty sure I’ll pass with her helping me.” And though Wooseok’s words made sense, Seungyoun couldn’t help the intense feeling of irritation as he clenched his jaw.

“So you do tutoring?” At the sound of the familiar voice breaking the silence that surrounded her, made her huff in annoyance and roll her eyes. “I’m doing work right now. So, kindly, fuck off.” She stated bitterly, keeping her eyes trained on the books and laptop that sat in front of her. But, her eyes squeezed shut as the chair across from her was pulled out and he plopped in it. “What do you want, Cho?” “For you to tutor me.” The laugh that slipped through her lips was genuine as her head fell forward. “Fuck off.” “I’m serious.” He deadpanned, making her raise an eyebrow as she looked at him with complete amusement. “Is this because I’m tutoring your friend?” The chuckle that left her as his ears turned pink was soft. “I’m only tutoring him for the cash. And because it’s easy shit that I know. We’re on the same intellectual level, you and I, surprisingly. You don’t need my help, and even if you did, I wouldn’t help you.” She spoke so softly, he almost didn’t process her words because the tone made his heart flutter. “Now, leave me alone. I have work to do.” 

As expected, the male never left from his spot across from her, but he did stay silent as she worked. She could feel his eyes on her most of the time, but he didn’t speak another word to her. At one point, he’d even started on his own tasks, headphones covering his ears completely as he worked diligently on his activity. When she looked up from her computer screen, her eyes red behind her glasses as they rested low on her nose. Stretching, her lips parted in a satisfied whimper as her muscles pulled and bones popped. Her eyes shut as she rolled her neck and cracked her fingers. She’d been sitting in the same position for hours, working sedulously and unmoving, so the tug and snap of her body was very welcomed. Both to her, and to the male across from her. The soft sounds that slipped from her lips didn’t go unnoticed by him, having stopped the track he’d been working on to add some more things. His heart fluttered and his stomach did backflips as the sounds flowed to him, making his breath catch in his throat. 

Days had gone by, Y/N and Wooseok becoming a bit closer through the process making it easier for her to tolerate him and his friends that sometimes came to pick up their friend. Today was the final tutoring session, ending the two weeks, and to say that Wooseok was nervous was an understatement. Y/N could tell, immediately trying to talk down his nervousness, even getting a few words of encouragement from Seungyoun who’d invaded their session. Y/N didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t interfere because this wasn’t just a hang out, she wouldn’t allow people who weren’t her best friends into her studio just to hang out. She was doing business in the situation, and also helping out an art-ignorant fellow student. “Look, think about it this way… As long as you get a 75, you’re not a complete failure.” She states simply, eyes still focused on her canvas as she slowly stroked her brush over the material. The piece was almost done, needing a few more finishing touches before she would put the finishing gloss on. It’d taken so long to get the piece done, as she had actual work for school to finish between painting sessions. But, the time was worth it to get the perfect result.

“Okay! Well, I have to get out of here. I have night shift tonight.” Wooseok muttered, standing and stretching before packing his things. “See you.” Y/N called over her shoulder, barely pulling her focus away from her art. After the door shut, it was silent for a long time. She’d even reached over and placed the needle of her record player onto the vinyl that rested on the inside, letting the soft jazzy instruments fill the space of her studio. The lights were dim, she had a couple candles lit, and she had incense burning in a small corner of the room where she kept a few gems. Soft hums left her lips as she swayed softly to the tunes, completely in her element. She thought she was alone, until she felt  breathing on her exposed shoulder making her freeze. Slowly turning her head, a loud gasp left her lips as she came face to face with Seungyoun. “What the hell, Cho?!” She squeaked, hand resting over her chest as her head fell back, giving the male an heart fluttering view. “What?” He muttered, smiling gently as he eyed her. “I thought you two left!” “Wooseok did, I wanted to stay back and watch you finish. It’s intriguing, seeing you in your element.” He stated, straightening himself to go look around at all of her works. She was still settling back after the scare he’d given her, merely watching him with shaky eyes. “You’re really talented.” “Thanks.” She muttered, feeling her insides twist as he studied each piece. “Can you explain these to me?” He asked gently, making her stand and walk over. She was nervous, stomach doing backflips as she approached his figure, because no one had ever asked her to explain her art work to them. “Which one?” She muttered, standing next to him as he pointed to a piece of two people morphing into one another. “That one...I did my freshman year, I think. I was going through a really hard time, figuring out who I was at the time and who I was becoming.” The soft hum of acknowledgement made her look to him as he pointed to another one. “That’s my sister...my favorite person. She was reading in the middle of the libary and looked so intrigued with the book she was reading, which peaked my interest and I had to capture the moment. I sketched it and later on resketched it on a canvas and painted it like a greek sculpture.” She chuckled at the end, making him smile as he pointed to another and another before finally turning to her and eyeing her. “And what about your outfit for today? What inspired this one?” The shock was evident in her features as her ears started to heat up. “M-My outfit?” He nodded, “I always notice your outfits are usually dark and very grunge-like. Today, though...seems super sexy and elegant…” She cleared her throat, looking down as her ears heated more. “I had a showing today…” “M’okay...tell me about your outfit. What fabrics? Tell me about the pieces you chose.” Suddenly she felt small under his gaze, clearing her throat again. “So...my top is actually a silk slip dress that I thrifted for like 3 bucks. My skirt is a silk, a vintage piece I got from my granny...and the shoes that I wore with it were a treat to myself, because they were almost 200. Oh! I also wore a cute pinstripe blazer over it, so I could cover all of my tattoos.” He nodded, smiling as he watched her, “You also left your hair out.” She subconciously ran a hand through her afro of curls, humming softly. “I like them…” He muttered, having moved closer to tower in front of her. She gasped softly as she looked up to him. The way he was looking down at her made her stomach twist and heart race; it was filled with such adoration. “Can I kiss you?” He whispered, making her nod without hesitation as he smiled gently.

His hand raised slowly, burying into her curls as he leaned down slowly to gently brush his lips against hers. Finally, pressing their lips together completely, he stood still as he waited for her react. The slight pressure of her pushing her lips closer to his made his heart swell and his other hand to move to cup her waist, pulling her to his body. Her lips were as soft as he imagined, like beautiful, full clouds. And her hair, so soft and bouncy as it curled around his palm. Pulling back slightly, he smiled against her lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that, princess.” The nickname, along with the kiss, made her head go fuzzy. “Princess…” He muttered softly, chuckling when she whined softly. “Stop calling me that…” “Why?” He smiled as she pushed face into his chest. “It makes me tingly…” She muffled out. “Now it does....after all this time.” “Always has.” At that, his chest tightened and his stomach knotted, body stilling as it heated up. “Really?” He squeaked, making her nod as she chuckled into his shirt. “Why were you always so mean about it then?” “Because it made me tingly…” The loud laugh that ripped through him shook her, making her whine.

The days after that were mutually less aggrivation filled, and she’d almost thought that he liked her until she saw him flirting with another girl at a frat party the weekend after. She knew that shouldn’t be so hurt, because they just kissed and everyone just kisses, but she was. Add that to her being high as hell, and petty as hell, it was a big uh-oh moment. Walking up to Wooseok, she grabbed his hand and pulled him with her to the dancefloor. “Woah...you okay?” He asked making her nod, though a soft pout played on her lips. “Is it because of Seungyoun-ie?” He leaned in to mutter in her ear, unknowingly giving her the advantage of seeing over his shoulder slightly. She made eye contact with Seungyoun, a sly smirk finding purchase on her face as she silently nodded to Wooseok’s question. Pulling away to look her in the face, he kept his face close enough for her to hear him. “She’s been flirting with him all night, but I don’t think he’s really interested.”He stated just as they heard a throat clearing, pulling away to turn to the interrupter. And there, in all of his fuming glory stood Seungyoun. “Y/N, can I talk to you for a second?” She shrugged stubbornly, rolling her eyes as he gently grabbed her hand and led her to one of the bathrooms. Shutting and locking the door, he turned to lean against the door. She sat on closed toilet, his low gaze on her form as she looked to him with reddened sclera. “What was that about, princess?” His voice was stable, calm and relaxed. “I don’t know, ask your little girlfriend.” She snipped back with an icy tone, eyes rolling when he chuckled softly. “You saw that, huh?” He pushed off the door, and crouched in front of her. “Is that why you acted out with Wooseok, princess?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes again making him clench his jaw. When she turned her head, he caught her chin between his fingers gently to turn her back to look at him with a couple of soft ‘tsk’s. “Listen, princess, she was nobody. She came up to talk to me, but I wasn’t interested. Wanna know why?” He made her stand up by slowly pulling her to him by her chin. “Because you’re the only one I want.” He whispered, leaning down to peck her lips. “I’m only interested in fucking, kissing, and loving my princess. M’okay?” He muttered, kissing down the column of her neck to latch onto her throat as she whined. His hands cupped her butt, rubbing it gently before gripping it and lifting her up. “You’re so light, baby.” He chuckled, nipping at the skin of her neck softly, smiling when she whined. “So cute…” He cooed, sucking at the skin with a grin. 

Setting her on the sink, he pulled her head back by her hair. “So pretty.” He hummed, staring down at her before running his nose over her jaw. “I bet you taste as sweet as you look.” The growl in his voice set waves of arousal to her core, causing her to whine as she clenched around nothing. “Daddy…” She cried as he tugged on her hair a little, making him freeze. “What’d you call me?” He muttered, feeling his adrenaline spike and heart speed up. “D-Daddy…” She muttered, face flushed and eyes blown as she stared at him wide eyed. His head fell back, eyes squeezing shut, as he growled lowly. “You’re gonna make me ruin you,  princess.” He stated, voice having dropped a couple of octaves in a raspy groan. “Let’s go back to mine?”

#khh #khh imagines #khh scenarios #khh smut #khh fluff #khh angst #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #x1 #x1 imagines #x1 scenarios #x1 smut #x1 fluff #x1 angst #uniq #uniq imagine #uniq scenarios #uniq smut #uniq fluff #uniq angst #cho seungyoun #seungyoon #seungyoon imagines #seungyoon scenarios #seungyoon smut #seungyoon fluff

[phantasticworks]

Do You Know How in Love With You I Am (Please Notice)

Phan!The Office AU I wrote based on an incredible piece of art by @laurainlilac so please go follow her and look at her art (she’s the mvp of phanart) so all credit for the prompt goes to her! 

read on ao3

Words: 22k

Description: Dan works at a small paper company, but the good thing about this mundane and meaningless career is that his best friend Phil sits only a few feet away at reception. The bad thing, however, is that Dan’s is irrevocably in love with said best friend. Oh, and also, Phil’s engaged to someone else. But don’t worry! There’s a happy ending somewhere in here.

Warnings: swearing, reference to emotionally abusive partner, implied history of domestic abuse/violence (nothing too explicit), lots of fluff and some angst, also a very poorly written smut scene that I already regret writing, but it’s kinda long so I can’t delete it now. 

IMPORTANT: There is detailed smut in this, so if you’re not comfy reading that, it begins at the first ~ and you can stop reading at the second ~. It’s mainly there for the sake of characterization, but it’s totally fine to skip it. 

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!

Dan Howell was never really a fan of customer service or human interaction, but somehow here he was, working in the sales department of a small paper company and trying his best to sell paper. It wasn’t that he hated people, really. He just hated interacting with them.

Well, that is, except for his best friend, Phil, who luckily worked four and a half paces away from Dan’s desk. Which was super convenient, if you asked him. Sitting so close to his best friend allowed him to hate his job significantly less, and whenever the woes of the corporate nightmare he was living got to him, he could just walk right over to reception and complain about it to his best friend.

Currently, he was tossing a ball of rubber bands in the air from the comfort of his own desk, his eyes on Phil. The ebony haired man was staring at his monitor, but Dan could see how hard he was trying to hide his smile, and Dan knew that Phil knew he was staring at him. When he finally raises his eyes to meet Dan’s, the younger man raises his eyebrows, holding the ball as if he’s about to throw it to Phil.

Phil shakes his head frantically, and Dan snickers. He’s well aware of the total lack of hand-eye coordination on Phil’s part, so he mercifully doesn’t throw the ball. Instead, he sets it back on his desk and grabs a random sheet of paper from his desk, folding it into an airplane quickly. Phil rolls his eyes, smiling as he looks back to his screen.

“Psst!” Dan whispers obnoxiously, causing Phil to quirk an eyebrow, fully taking his attention away from his computer.

“What?” Phil whispers back, brushing his quiff back with one hand.

Dan doesn’t respond, instead holding up the airplane craft, moving his hand as he goes to throw it.

Chris, Dan’s unfortunate desk cluster-mate and his unofficial enemy, decides to jump in then and ruin their fun. “Uh- that’s not going to fly, stupid.” He says rudely.

Dan raises an eyebrow at him, looking at the paper airplane in appraisal. “I dunno, I reckon it will,” He shrugs before tossing the plane, watching with only mild disappointment as it curves through the air, only to fall to the ground barely two feet away from him.

Phil purses his lips and gives him a round of pity applause, and Dan grins as he stands, bowing slightly. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here till five.” He announces proudly as he picks up the airplane.

Chris snorts from behind him. “Loser. Can’t even make the simplest piece of paper aircraft actually fly. Pathetic.” He snips, shaking his head as he stares disdainfully at Dan.

Shrugging, Dan drops the paper on Chris’ desk. “Why don’t you give it a shot, then.” He suggests, quirking an eyebrow in challenge. “I mean, if you think you can do it. It’s pretty hard.” He adds.

“Please,” Chris scoffs, snatching the paper up. “I’ll make the best damn airplane you’ve ever seen in your pathetic existence.”

Dan shrugs, crossing over to reception, where Phil is waiting with a smile. “He’s going to make me the best damn airplane I’ve ever seen,” Dan informs him helpfully as he leans against the counter, looking down at Phil.

Phil nods seriously. “Right. And I’m sure you’re really quite excited about that?” He laughs, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Of course,” Dan says as if it’s completely obvious. “Can you imagine? I’ll have the best paper airplane in the world, made by our very own Chris Kendall.”

Phil snickers, sorting through some papers on his desk. “Wow. I can’t believe you’ll be the sole recipient of such an esteemed item,” he teases, his blue eyes flickering up to meet Dan’s.

Dan swallows hard, trying to ignore how incredibly attractive Phil is. There’s not a lot of things to do during the day as far as distractions go, but coming over to talk (or shamelessly flirt, in Dan’s case) with the office’s receptionist definitely made the days go by quicker. “I imagine you’re pretty jealous, huh?” Dan asks, tilting his head to the side and propping his chin on his hand.

“Oh, yeah,” Phil nods, a serious look coming over his face. He sits up, tilting his head back and angling his face closer to Dan’s. “Definitely jealous,” he says quietly, nodding seriously.

Biting his lip, Dan tries his hardest to fight his smile. Just as he starts to speak, they’re interrupted by a different voice.

“There,” Chris calls from the desk cluster he and Dan sat at. Dan and Phil both turn to look at him, and Dan nearly laughs at the pure ecstatic expression on Chris’ face. “This was so easy a stupid baby could do it,” He taunts, standing to show the airplane to Dan.

Dan considers this before shrugging. “So, you’re saying I’m smarter than a stupid baby, so I couldn’t figure it out?” He asks, living for the way it riles up his coworker.

“No! I was implying that you were stupider than a stupid baby. Idiot,” he seethes, shoving the airplane into Dan’s hand.

“But, you said a stupid baby could do it. Which implies that either you are the stupid baby, because you did it, or that I’m not a stupid baby, since I couldn’t do it.” Dan explains casually, eyes on the ceiling as if he’s really considering it. He wasn’t, he just liked to wind Chris up. Phil giggles from behind him, making Dan smirk.

“No, I- just fly the damn thing!” Chris snaps in exasperation, crossing his arms and stepping back.

Dan shrugs, lifting the plane. “Sure.” He pauses then, leaning against the receptionist desk once again. “Phil, tell me where I should try to aim this at.” He instructs, glancing over his shoulder.

Phil stands so he can see easier over the tall receptionist desk, scanning the room, considering. “Hm. How about... oh, see if you can hit one of Chris’ bobble heads!” He says excitedly, smiling brightly at Dan.

Dan hides a laugh, but nods.

“Wait- no! Don’t hit my stuff.” Chris protests, reaching to take the plane out of Dan’s grip.

“But it’s a paper airplane, Chris. It won’t hurt it.” He supplies with a shrug before aiming the airplane.

Before Chris can protest again, Dan launches the plane, and they all watch as it goes straight for all of a foot, before plummeting down.

“Huh. I guess you’re not a stupid baby after all,” Dan shrugs, turning to look at Phil.

Chris, however, is much more bothered. “What? I fixed it, it should’ve worked! Dan, what did you even do?” The man demands, grabbing the plane off the ground.

Dan raises his hands in defense. “I just launched it. I didn’t mess with it, mate.” He takes in Phil’s incredulous expression at the anger in Chris’ voice, and tries not to laugh.

“Well, it should’ve worked.” Pushing his glasses up, Chris aims the plane and launches it himself, only to get the same results. “What?!” He all but screeches.

Dan shrugs, patting him once on the back. “Does it have propellers?” He asks, plucking a random word associated with aircraft out of his memory, keeping a straight face as he stares at Chris.

Phil snickers behind him, but Dan shoots him a look.

“What- no! Of course not, it’s a paper airplane, you idiot.” Chris snaps, still fumbling with the paper aircraft.

“Well then maybe that’s your problem,” Dan says helpfully, shrugging.

Chris groans in frustration as Phil laughs. “Shut up. Idiot.” Chris grumbles before stomping back to his desk, tossing the airplane into a wastebasket on the way.

“Well, that was an event.” Phil murmurs as Dan turns back around.

“Yeah. You know, I can never quite tell if Chris hates me or if he’s secretly in love with me.” Dan says jokingly, pushing a curl off his forehead.

“Probably in love with you,” Phil nods. “I can see why he would be.” His cheeks flood with color after he says this, but he only looks up at Dan, as if waiting for him to disagree.

Dan feels flooded with warmth, and he grins, his dimple likely showing as he does. “Yeah?” He teases, but he feels his heart racing as he waits for an answer. Not yours, not yours, not yours, the silent mantra repeats in his head, but he ignores it. He wants this. He wants Phil to want him, even if he knows they can’t be together because Phil has someone else.

Phil only blushes darker and looks down at his desk. “Of course.” He says softly. Dan feels as if his heart is about to burst with joy, but then Phil speaks again. “You’re my best friend, Dan, of course I think you’re lovely.” He says this so sweetly that Dan nearly melts right there on the spot, but then the real meaning behind his words sink in.

Dan tries very hard not to let his face show the pure disappointment he feels swelling up now. “Oh,” he says softly in response. “Yeah, of course.”

Before Phil has a chance to respond, their boss, PJ, comes out of his office.

“Meeting in five! Five seconds, everybody, find your asses in those chairs in five, four, three-“ PJ yells from only a foot behind Dan.

Dan cringes at the booming voice right behind his ear, turning to look at Phil with an incredulous expression. Why, he mouths, shaking his head in bewilderment.

The older man giggles, shrugging as he grabs a notepad and pen to take notes for their boss during what was likely to be a very pointless meeting.

“Phil, hurry up. Come on, guys! Meeting, now!” PJ is chirping behind Dan.

Dan sighs but shrugs away from the receptionist counter anyway, shoving his hands into his pockets. Dan pauses beside PJ, lowering his voice as a few of his colleagues make their way past him and into the meeting room. “Hey, you know you don’t have to yell, right? There’s only like, nine of us in here. And, well, it’s a pretty small room.”

“Don’t listen to him, PJ. You’re asserting your authority.” Chris, ever the suckup, says snidely from behind him.

Dan sighs, staring up at the ceiling before he notices Phil standing by the door to the meeting room, smiling at him. The younger man can’t help but return the smile, his face flooding with warmth.

“Yeah, actually, Chris is right. Sorry, PJ. I’ve got a meeting to get to actually, but hey, good job rounding up the crowd.” Dan pats Chris’ shoulder before sliding past him and their boss, gesturing for Phil to walk in ahead of him.

“One day he’s going to figure out that you’re just being a smartass.” Phil whispers as they take a seat next to each other.

Dan shrugs, smirking. “Probably, but I’ve worked here for five years and it hasn’t happened yet,” he reminds the ebony haired man next to him.

Phil rolls his eyes, tugging on the red cardigan he’s wearing over his white dress shirt, and Dan tries not to stare at his long fingers as he fiddles with the buttons.

As a distraction from his thoughts, he shifts closer, bringing his mouth close to Phil’s ear. “I have a great prank in the works for Chris. Are you in?” He asks quietly. Pulling away slightly to see Phil’s reaction, he’s a little surprised to see a blush on the older man’s cheeks, but he figures he might be imagining that.

Phil grins, nodding. “Absolutely. What are we doing?” He asks, waggling his eyebrows conspiratorially.

Dan bites his lip, trying to hide his goofy smile. Phil was just too cute for his own good. Of course, Dan couldn’t say that to his best friend. It’s not something you say to someone you’re so close to in a platonic way, because there’s no telling what that could do to their friendship. And it wasn’t as if he could have Phil, anyway.

Just as PJ steps in after the last few stragglers, Chris marching close on his heels, Dan dips his head down to whisper his plan into Phil’s ear, ignoring the way Phil shivers lightly when his lips accidentally graze the shell of his ear.

When Dan has laid out the plan, he sits back, waiting for Phil’s judgement. A look of awe and surprise sits on his face, and Dan tries not to fidget as he waits for the verdict.

“Dan Howell,” Phil whispers as PJ begins speaking. “That is positively rotten of you.”

Dan’s face falls a little, thinking maybe this time his childish, pranking ways had gone too far, pushed Phil to realize that he was actually just a bored loser struggling for the attention of the cute receptionist.

That is, until Phil nudges Dan’s arm with his elbow, causing the brunet to look up in confusion. “I’m in,” the older man whispers just as Chris whirls around, glaring at them.

“Shut up, you two. Some of us care about this meeting.”

Dan smirks, nodding as if he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Chris. We’ll keep it down.” He says casually, trying not to laugh. Phil giggles beside him, covering it with a very not-subtle cough.

Chris doesn’t seem to find this out of the ordinary, as he turns around with a huff. Dan rolls his eyes at Phil, nudging him gently. “Nice,” he whispers teasingly.

Phil nudges him back, smiling. “Shut up,” he responds quietly.

Dan just smiles, and they both pretend to be very invested in the meeting, which turns out to be about whether or not PJ should ask his supervisor, Sophie, to their office Christmas party. Dan effectively tunes out after that, instead taking the notepad and pen from Phil, who raises his eyebrows in question.

Wanna play hangman? He writes, shifting the notepad so that Phil can read.

Phil smiles widely, his tongue poking out between his teeth, the cutie he is. Dan allows his eyes to flicker to his lips for only a few seconds before he looks back to his bright blue eyes. Phil takes the pen from him, writing messily underneath Dan’s question.

Can I go first? He’s written, shooting Dan a questioning look. Dan grins and nods, gesturing for him to continue.

He pretends to focus on the meeting while sneaking glances at the notepad, where Phil is currently drawing slightly uneven spaces on the paper. He notices that up in the top corner, Phil has written the category, which apparently for this round is books. Dan watches as he draws several lines, taking up a good majority of the page. Smirking, Dan leans closer to him, bringing his lips to hover closely around the shell of Phil’s ear.

“I think you’re just supposed to do the title, not write the book itself,” he murmurs, biting his lip when Phil shivers.

Phil rolls his eyes, nudging Dan’s arm off their shared armrest. “Shut up,” he says with a fond laugh, counting the lines to himself before slipping the notepad over to Dan.

Dan raises an eyebrow and stares at the many lines for a moment, counting them up in his head. “Twenty-four letters?” He whisper-shouts in surprise. “Is that even allowed?”

Shushing him with a grin, Phil taps the notepad. “Yes! Now, start guessing.”

Chewing on his lip thoughtfully, Dan tilts his head closer to Phil. “Do I get any sort of hint? Who’s the author?” He asks.

“That’s not a letter,” Phil protests.

Dan shrugs. “I’ll take an ‘i’ first. But I want to know the author, at least.” Dan prods.

Phil sighs, then goes through the blanks on the page, filling in all the ‘i’ spots that there were. “Stephen King,” he admits quietly, glancing over at PJ once before his gaze returns to Dan. “That’s the only hint you’re getting, though!”

“Hm… old or new? Like, give me a year of publication.” He barters, pointing to one space. “And I want an ‘e’ next.”

“No,” Phil complains, biting his lip to hide a smile. “You don’t get a year of publication. You may have the ‘e’ though.” Phil begins writing again, mouthing the letters to himself. If Dan was a cheater, he’d focus harder on that and try to win the game all at once, but he enjoyed humoring the childlike tendencies of his best friend.

“Fine,” he relents, studying the letters. Smirking as a thought pops into his head, he leans even closer to Phil, this time purposefully bringing his lips to brush against Phil’s ear. “Can I have the ‘d’ please?” He breathes.

Phil visibly stiffens at this, then shivers as Dan’s breath flows over his neck. “Oh, um-“ He fumbles, his cheeks reddening comically.

Dan smirks as Phil shakily fills in two spaces with the letter he’d chosen, trying not to feel too proud of himself for the reaction he’d gotten. “First word is ‘the’ so, fill in those ‘t’s and ‘h’s, bub.” Dan says smugly.

Grumbling to himself, Phil fills in only a couple of blanks, turning to face Dan with a smug look. “Try another letter, Danny,” he whispers.

PJ seems to realize that they’re not paying attention then, and calls Dan out. “And the expense reports are due next Friday, right, Dan?”

Dan knows PJ’s probably trying to catch him off-guard to prove that he’s not paying attention, but luckily for him, he’d had this conversation with Phil earlier and knew that PJ was tricking him. “No, actually they’re due the week after that.” PJ looks surprised, and a little embarrassed, and just to be an ass, Dan adds, “Although, we do have updated client reports due next Friday.”

Their boss looks a little surprised that Dan had remembered this, and Dan just levels him with a casual smile, quirking an eyebrow in challenge. “Oh, er- right.” PJ stutters out, returning to his speech about whatever it was he was that he had been discussing initially.

“Nice,” Phil whispers from beside Dan, closer to his ear than he had been before. When Dan turns his head, he immediately flushes at the lack of space between them.

He’s engaged! A little voice yells in his head. Heeding this warning for once, he leans away slightly, clearing his throat as nonchalantly as possible. “Thanks,” he mumbles back pleasantly. Glancing down at the notepad, he whispers, “I’d like ‘a’ next.”

A flash of hurt crosses Phil’s face, but it disappears so quickly that Dan realizes he must have just imagined it. “Nope,” Phil says gleefully, drawing the head of the stick man corpse on the gallows at the top of the page.

“Well, damn,” Dan mutters, staring hard at the letters and spaces left on the page. “Um… ‘l’ I guess.”

Phil fills in all the letter ‘l’s that there are, and Dan feels almost slightly more confused. “Next letter,” Phil prompts, poking Dan’s arm with the pen.

Dan sighs before shrugging. “Um… hm… this is hard, Phil.” He stalls, trying to rack his brain for all the Stephen King novels he’d read. If he could think of the title of something that was long enough, he might guess the whole title correctly.

“That’s what he said,” Phil giggles.

Dan’s jaw drops open slightly and he shoots a surprised look at Phil. “Phil Lester,” he whispers, shaking his head. “You’ve changed,” he simpers, turning away dramatically.

Phil elbows him in the ribs sharply, and Dan gasps. A few of their coworkers shoot them dirty looks, and Dan just bites his lip, sending apologetic smiles their way. “You’re no better,” Phil whispers. “You asked me for the ‘d’ earlier.” He reminds him.

Rolling his eyes, Dan shifts in his seat, dropping his arm onto the shared armrest between them, subtly brushing their arms together. “Yeah, but I didn’t specifically ask for your d.” He mutters.

Phil flushes, ducking his head. “Pick a letter,” he hisses, laughter in his tone.

Smiling, Dan guesses another letter, and another, until he’s gotten down to only six blanks, his stick man hanging precariously with two arms and one leg already. “The… girl! The second word is girl.” He says excitedly, tapping his finger on the blanks. Luckily for them, PJ has sort of opened the floor for open discussion for something or other, so there were a couple other people talking, keeping them from getting called out again.

“Finally,” Phil rolls his eyes, writing in the letters, and then going down to the last word and filling in a ‘g’ and a ‘r’ there, too.

“This is so obscure,” Dan shakes his head as he stares at the letters, still confused about what the answer actually is.

“You’re just saying that because they never made a movie about it!” Phil whines.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Well, duh. Obviously, I don’t know what the hell it is if there’s not a movie.”

The older man shifts, pushing up the sleeves of his cardigan slightly. Dan tries not to stare at his beautiful pale wrists, but it’s hard to avert his eyes. He had very lovely hands, and those hands were connected to very lovely wrists, and arms, and… well, you get the idea. “C’mon, Dan. Just a couple more letters.”

Dan sighs, but looks at the notepad again. “The Girl… who! Second word is who…. The Girl Who Lo… Loved… Tom Gordon?” He trails off, unsure.

Phil’s face lights up, and his tongue pokes out between his teeth in that way Dan likes so much. “Yes! That’s it!” Phil fills in the last of the letters and smiles proudly.

“What the hell is that?” Dan asks incredulously, his voice bubbling with laughter.

“It’s a book! I’ve got a copy of it that I can lend you,” Phil’s gaze drops to the notepad again, his fingers twisting around the pen. “I mean, if you want to read it.”

Dan smiles broadly as he studies Phil’s profile. “Of course. I’d love to read it, if it’s something you care so much about.” He says honestly.

Phil smiles at this in response, but before he has the chance to say anything, they hear a tapping on the wall of windows behind them, which separates the conference room from the main office. They both stretch to see who had knocked, and Dan’s face drops considerably when he sees that it’s Charlie Stratford. Otherwise known as Phil’s fiancé. When he sees that he has their attention, he crooks a finger at Phil, indicating for him to come out of the conference room to speak to him. His eyebrows are knitted together, and he has his lips pressed into an angry line, his entire stance exuding irritation.

Dan frowns, glancing over at Phil in worry. Phil only looks down, closing the notepad before awkwardly getting to his feet. “Um, I should- I’ll be back in a minute.” He mumbles, leaving the notepad on his seat and stepping out of the conference room. PJ barely spares him a glance, having seen Charlie waiting outside no doubt, but Dan can’t help but allow his gaze to follow Phil out of the room.

He watches with rapt interest as Charlie clenches his jaw as he begins speaking, too quickly for Dan to read his lips properly. Phil is staring down at his feet, but Charlie brings his hand up, snapping his fingers right in front of Phil’s face to bring his gaze up to meet his own. Dan feels his blood boil at this action, and he has to literally grab ahold of the arm rests to keep himself in his seat, rather than doing something stupid like walking out there to intervene.

Not yours! Not yours, let it go! His mind reminds him helpfully, but Dan tells that voice to shut the hell up. Instead, he watches quietly as Charlie gestures to the window where he’s sat, poking Phil’s chest with his index finger several times right after. Phil seems to speak up then, bringing his arms up as if to hug himself tightly. He shakes his head sharply at something Charlie is saying, his eyes clenching shut. Whatever Charlie is saying must really piss him off, because he turns suddenly, as if to walk back into the conference room.

Dan doesn’t even have a moment to feel relieved that Phil’s getting out of that situation before he’s watching in mute horror as Charlie brings his hand up to grip Phil’s bicep, yanking on his arm harshly to pull him back to face him. That settles it for Dan, and he’s up and out of his seat immediately, holding a hand up to PJ when he questions him.

Having the sense to shut the conference door behind himself, Dan comes to stand beside Phil, tucking his hands in his pockets casually, as to not appear threatening to Charlie. He wasn’t afraid of the twat by any means, but he also wasn’t stupid; Charlie could probably kick his ass in no time, considering he definitely spent more time at the gym than Dan currently did. “Everything alright out here?” He asks pleasantly, trying not to frown at the way Phil cringes when he hears his voice.

“We’re fine, Howell. This is really none of your business, though, so, if you could just go, that’d be great.” Charlie drawls easily, his hand still gripping Phil’s arm tightly. Dan watches as Phil tries to take the distraction as an opportunity to pull his arm out of his grasp, but this only seems to spur Charlie on.

“Maybe you ought to let go of his arm, mate,” Dan suggests instead of leaving, ignoring that notion completely.

Charlie’s eyes narrow, and Phil takes in a deep breath, only to hold it. “Listen, mate,” Charlie starts. “I’m not sure who you think you are, but-“

“Char, please,” Phil whispers, staring pointedly at his fiancé’s face.

The other man drops Phil’s arm only to hold that hand up to his face to silence him. Dan clenches his fists in his pockets at the action, but otherwise remains motionless. “No, no, I want to know what business Howell thinks he’s got coming out here-“

Dan rolls his eyes as he cuts him off, lifting a hand of his own up to silence him. He smirks at the shocked look that crosses Charlie’s face. “I’m his best friend, Char,” he says mockingly. “And no offense, but you’re acting like a dick.”

Phil suddenly turns to face him, his eyes wide. “Dan, stop.” He says sternly. Dan’s taken aback by this, and his eyes flick between Phil’s and Charlie’s for a moment, trying to grasp what it is that he’s supposed to do. “Just… just go. I can handle this myself, just go.” He waves him off, not quite meeting Dan’s gaze.

“No, Phil, he’s-“ Dan protests, gesturing at the twat that Phil’s currently engaged to.

“Go. This isn’t any of your business,” Phil says harshly. Dan takes a hesitant step back, furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion. Phil’s eyes are full of guilt, but he just shakes his head slightly, gesturing to the conference room. Charlie is smirking smugly behind Phil, which Dan ignores.

Dan hesitates, but at Phil’s weak smile and nod, he steps back into the conference room, meeting a few concerned gazes as he goes back to his seat. He can’t help but glance back out the window at Phil, and his heart clenches when he finds that he’s staring down at the floor, his hand holding the portion of his arm that Charlie had been gripping so tightly earlier. And even after being so blatantly dismissed from that altercation, Dan can’t help but feel as if Phil needed him.

---

When Phil finally returns to the conference room a few minutes later, Dan is looking at him with concern, watching him closely. Phil doesn’t meet his eyes, and only flips his notepad open to an empty page. Dan waits patiently for him to speak, but when he doesn’t, Dan nudges him gently on the arm.

“Hey, are you okay?” Dan asks softly, frowning when Phil slowly shifts away from him.

Phil only nods, not meeting his gaze. “Mhm.” He murmurs, carefully writing notes as PJ speaks.

“Oh… okay.” Dan says in confusion.

The older man doesn’t respond, and Dan can only sit by and wonder how badly he’d truly fucked up.

---

It’s almost a week later when things finally go back to normal. The weekend had apparently given Phil the space he needed to get back to his normal self, but Dan wasn’t sure if he really had the same relationship with him as he had before. This caused a few awkward interactions on Monday, but when Dan had gotten up to retrieve some candy from reception and Phil had reminded him that Chris’ birthday was coming up (which they always used as an opportunity for a new prank), they slipped back into their usual banter.

Now, Friday afternoon had rolled around, and everyone was getting excited for the company outing they had planned that night. Every year their boss liked to put together a ridiculous award show for their branch, and this year it was being hosted at a restaurant called The Factory House. Generally, it was a huge waste of time for everyone, but PJ was always super excited for it, and generally everyone was put on the same tab, which was covered by the company, so at least it was a free meal.

“So, Philip Michael Lester,” Dan drawls at the receptionist desk a couple hours before quitting time.

“James Howard,” Phil stutters out, his blush likely due to Dan’s memory and usage of his full name.

Dan puts on an overexaggerated frown, sniffing dramatically. “You don’t even know my name!” he whines, his voice obnoxiously high-pitched.

Phil smirks, typing on his keyboard in feigned nonchalance. “Daniel,” Phil sighs, shaking his head. “Of course, I know your full name. It’s Daniel James “I like to annoy the receptionist” Howell.” His tongue pokes out between his teeth at this, and Dan only laughs.

“Ouch! Phil, I’m wounded.” He brings a hand up to his heart, grinning down at the older man.

Rolling his eyes, Phil stands, grabbing a post-it note that probably held a message for PJ. “Do you even have anything in there to wound?” He questions, nodding at Dan’s hand placement.

His jaw dropping slightly at Phil’s meaner-than-usual insult, Dan lets out a sharp laugh. “Damn, Lester. Who hurt you?” He asks jokingly.

He barely notices it as Phil turns away, but there’s a clear shift in his expression, from joking to slightly alarmed. Dan’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he had clearly meant that as a joke. “I’ve got to take this to PJ. Be right back,” Phil mutters, walking around the receptionist counter without meeting Dan’s gaze.

“Oh… Okay.” He frowns as his gaze follows Phil, but just as he steps into Peej’s office, the main door opens, and Dan cringes when Charlie steps through.

Charlie brushes a blonde strand of hair up off his forehead, nodding to Dan with a look of feigned indifference. “Hey, mate,” he uttered, looking reluctant to even acknowledge Dan’s presence.

“Er, hey,” he responds, nodding uncertainly.

Sighing, Charlie steps closer, leaning on the counter about two feet away from Dan. “Look, Dan,” he begins. Dan braces himself to be chewed out for the other day, sure that’s exactly what’s about to happen. He and Phil hadn’t acknowledged any of it, which made Dan equal parts confused and worried, but that doesn’t mean that Charlie hadn’t addressed Dan’s intrusion with Phil. “I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for the other day.”

Dan stares dumbly, even more confused. “Um… you’re welcome? Wait- for what?” He asks uncertainly.

Charlie shrugs, looking awkward to even be saying this. “Well it wasn’t any of your business, obviously-“ Dan clenches his fist at this, but just nods, setting his jaw so he doesn’t say anything stupid. “-but it’s nice to know that Philly has someone here to look out for him. You know, help him get through the day and stuff. I appreciate that.” Charlie smiles pleasantly, as if it’s perfectly normal of him to thank Dan for interrupting their argument, even though at the time Dan had every intention of telling the blonde to fuck off.

“Oh… um… sure, mate.” Dan says awkwardly, really uncertain about what he should even say at this point. He certainly didn’t do it for Charlie, so he didn’t really deserve his thanks in the first place. Especially given the fact Dan couldn’t stand him.

“Charlie?” Phil’s voice says uncertainly from behind them. Both men turn to look at him, and Dan can’t ignore the way Phil seems to retreat into himself in Charlie’s presence. He looks small and uncertain, and Dan loathes the man who made Phil feel like this.

“Hey, babe,” Charlie says with a smirk, stepping closer to Phil and placing a broad hand on his hip. Dan looks away just as Charlie leans down, probably with the intentions of kissing his fiancé.

“Not here,” Phil hisses. Dan’s eyes dart back to them, only to find Phil turn his head at the last second, his eyes meeting Dan’s. He doesn’t hold his gaze, his cheeks flooding and his eyes dropping back to the floor.

“Oh, come on. Dan doesn’t mind. Do you, Dan?” Charlie inquires, and Dan might be imagining it, but he’s pretty sure there’s a challenge in his voice.

Dan shrugs, and as much as he tries to keep his mouth shut, his smart-assery makes itself present. “I’m not into non-consensual voyeurism, so you can keep that to yourself, actually,” he says smoothly before smiling slightly at Phil, tapping the counter once before slipping away to return to his desk.

“Smartass.” Charlie mutters, just loud enough for Dan to catch.

Unable to keep his mouth shut, Dan smirks. “Thanks, mate. I’ve got a degree and everything.”

Dan catches the look of surprise on Charlie’s face, which quickly turns to anger as Phil giggles. “Hilarious,” Charlie remarks dryly. Dan shrugs, sitting in his chair, acting the part of someone who is totally unbothered. However, he does notice the way Charlie smirks before gripping Phil’s waist tightly, shoving his mouth against the ebony-haired man’s roughly. Clenching his jaw hard enough to pop it, Dan reminds himself that there’s absolutely no reason for him to feel burnt up with jealousy and hatred right now, and yet here he is.

“Enough, Char. I’ve got work to do. I’ll see you later, okay?” Phil is saying, pushing Charlie away. Dan glances over as he crosses his arms over his stomach, stepping away from the blonde as if he doesn’t want to touch him. Dan figures Phil must have a thing about PDA, but it pisses him off that Charlie doesn’t seem to realize or respect that.

“Okay, fine. What time is the stupid award thing?”

Phil sighs before answering. “It starts at seven.”

Dan tries to busy himself with a file on his desk, trying not to eavesdrop so obviously. “Okay. See you later, babe. Bye, Howell.” Charlie calls slightly louder to Dan.

Refusing to acknowledge the douchebag, Dan only stares at his desk until he hears the door to the office close. His eyes dart up to look at Phil, who is staring down at the floor with a look of embarrassment on his face. Dan’s heart clenches tightly, and he sits back in his chair slightly. “Haribo, Phil?” He says softly, grabbing the container of gummy snacks that he kept in his desk. He liked them, but Phil loved them, so Dan always kept some around.

Phil turns to face him, a grateful smile gracing his features as he nods, coming over to lean against Dan’s desk. “I think I’d really love some haribo.”

---

Every year it seemed like a miracle that they weren’t kicked out of the restaurant PJ insisted on hosting their award show at. There was always his terrible attempt at hosting, which involved bad and often offensive impressions, as well as office-themed parodies of various iconic songs. Along with this was Chris’ terrible attempt at DJing, which Dan always found hilariously awful. There was also a couple of people who ended up getting too rowdy (generally because PJ says something offensive that, shockingly, offends someone) and occasionally someone would get really drunk. That someone was usually Hazel, but everyone was pretty sure that she was an alcoholic anyway.

This year, it seemed, would be no different than usual, as PJ had started them off with a terrible rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody (which Dan found personally offensive) which he followed by an impression of Tommy Wiseau (which was surprisingly accurate, just very disturbingly so.) Dan had high hopes that this would be the worst of the evening and that maybe it would improve from there, but he’d already been subjected to several years of these stupid ceremonies, so he knew that was only wishful thinking.

It would be slightly more tolerable if he could sit with Phil, but as he had been every year now, Phil was sat with Charlie and Jimmy. Jimmy was an alright guy, the foreman of their warehouse, and if he wasn’t friends with Charlie, Dan figured he’d probably like him a lot more. Phil sat close to Charlie, but he looked uncomfortably rigid. The blonde had an arm thrown around the back of Phil’s chair, and his hand was resting on Phil’s shoulder in a possessive fashion. Dan tried not to stare at that hand, but he was secretly hoping that maybe he had some hidden pyrokinetic powers that would do something fun, like set Charlie’s hand on fire. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

“So welcome, everyone. This year is going to be a little different,” PJ was announcing into the microphone loudly, and Dan tried his hardest to tune in, filtering out the conversations of Louise and Tom, who he was currently sat with. “We won’t be doing one tab this year, so if you could, just put everything on your own tabs,” PJ continues, his words garnering a predictable response, which was anger on behalf of many of his coworkers, who usually only showed up for the free meal.

“You said we could invite our families this year!” Felix says pointedly from a table behind Dan, and Dan can’t help but agree with his anger. Felix had brought his wife, and he was probably excited to have an excuse to take her somewhere nice without having to pay for it himself.

“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault you actually listened to me for once, Felix.” PJ barely even bats an eye, continuing on as if he hadn’t just disappointed pretty much every one of his colleagues. Dan didn’t particularly care himself, since he was going to have to eat dinner whether he stayed or went home, and he’d rather not cook tonight.

Apparently, some people didn’t share this philosophy, as he notices Charlie and Jimmy standing to leave. “Come on, Phil,” Charlie is saying, tugging at Phil’s arm.

“No, Char, why can’t we-“ Phil is protesting, gingerly trying to pull his arm from Charlie’s grip.

“I won’t say it again, Philip,” Charlie’s voice is low and dead serious, and Dan can only watch helplessly as he manages to drag Phil off his seat, tugging him to the door. Phil glances over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Dan’s, a frown clear on his face.

PJ notices their departure and calls them out, but Charlie just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes. Dan stares at the door where they’d disappeared, but there’s nothing he can do. He sighs to himself, tuning back into the conversation Louise and Tom are in.

“I’d love to stay, honest, but I left Liam at home with the girls because I thought I’d get a nice dinner for free,” the blonde blushes at this, but Dan knows she doesn’t mean this in a bad way. She was a busy woman with two small kids, of course she’d jump at the chance to go out for the night with a paid dinner. “Tom, would you mind driving me? I’d hate to ask Liam to come pick me up since he’s probably making dinner for the girls.”

Tom shrugs but stands and pulls his jacket on. “Sure, Lou. I’m in it for the free food myself, so not much keeping me here.” He jokes. They seem to notice Dan just sat there, and Tom claps him on the back. “You staying here, mate?” Tom asks.

Dan nods. “Yeah, might as well. Someone’s got to stay and report back on all the worst moments on Monday.” His lips quirk into a small smile.

Louise frowns, bringing a hand to touch Dan’s arm. “Are you sure, love? If you’d like you can join us for dinner.” She turns to Tom then. “You’re invited too, dear, since you’re being kind enough to play chauffer.” She says sweetly, always living to host.

Tom grins at this. “Oh, definitely, Lou. I accept.” He too turns to Dan, shrugging. “Suit yourself, mate, but you know where to find us if you change your mind.”

With another small smile, Dan nods. “It’s fine, really. I’ll see the both of you Monday.” He waves them off.

Sending an apology to PJ, Louise and Tom quickly make their exit, and Dan sighs to himself, flipping the menu around to scan it for something that isn’t too expensive. He’d already ordered a beer, which sat by his left hand, mostly untouched. He’s trying to tune out PJ’s parody of Toxic by Britney Spears when the chair across from him squeaks, someone joining him.

His jaw drops in unfiltered surprised as he sees Phil sitting across from him, his cheeks rosy in what looks like embarrassment. “Mind if I join you?” He asks timidly.

Dan smiles broadly then, shaking his head. “Course not. How’d you manage to get away from Sir Charlie?” He teases, pushing his beer across to Phil when he sees him eyeing it.

“Thanks,” Phil sighs, taking several large gulps of the alcohol. Dan had never really seen Phil have more than a couple drinks over the years, mainly at various work functions and a couple house parties of mutual friends. He watches quietly as Phil downs nearly the whole glass before lowering it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cheeks flood with color when he meets Dan’s amused stare. “Sorry,” he apologizes, before seemingly remembering that Dan had asked him a question. “I told him I wanted to stay. I’ll get a ride from Louise or someone later.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

Dan almost laughs, but he just clears his throat. “Well, Tom actually drove Louise home, since I think Liam drove her here.” Phil’s face falls at this information, so Dan continues timidly. “But I can give you a ride home later,” he offers, looking down at the menu casually.

Phil brightens at this, nodding immediately. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that, actually.” He nods happily, and Dan smiles to himself. Phil downs the rest of the beer quickly, and Dan quirks an eyebrow. Phil shrugs. “After the week I’ve had, I think I deserve this.”

Dan smirks before waving over the waitress. “Can we get two of the blue margaritas?” He requests, smiling when Phil’s face lights up in excitement. The waitress nods before disappearing, and Dan tilts his head at Phil. “Is that okay with you?” He asks, suddenly unsure. Phil just seemed more like the type to enjoy sweet alcoholic drinks, and he really did seem like he needed a drink.

Nodding frantically, Phil opens his own menu. “Yes, absolutely.” Almost as an afterthought, he adds, “Charlie never lets me drink.”

Trying to hide his frown, Dan hums. “Really? Why’s that?” He asks mildly, trying his hardest not to sound too pressing or nosy.

Phil shrugs as if the question doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “He says he doesn’t like me when I’m drunk.” He gets a thoughtful look on his face and looks up at Dan suddenly. “I don’t like him much when I’m drunk, either,” he admits, sounding almost as if he’s just realized this.

Before Dan gets a chance to unpack that, PJ is announcing an award, and their coworkers are clapping with feigned interest. Dan joins in clapping half-heartedly, still looking over at Phil with a frown etched on his face. He wonders idly what their relationship is like behind closed doors, and he tries his hardest not to notice the way Phil’s eyes just look so, so tired.

When the margaritas arrive, Dan only takes a sip out of his before he splutters, hearing the groan- no the moan, loud and way too sexual to be garnered from a simple drink- that slips out of Phil’s mouth. Dan raises his eyebrows, ignoring the heat swelling in his stomach at the scene in front of him. Phil’s lips are wrapped tightly around the small straw in his glass, and he has this blissed-out look on his face as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tried. Dan’s mouth goes dry just looking at him, and he feels as if his face is burning with how red it is now.

Phil opens his eyes and slowly meets Dan’s gaze, and Dan isn’t prepared at all for the lazy smirk that crosses his face. “What?” he asks, sipping his drink as if he truly has no idea what kind of effect he’s having on the younger man.

Dan swallows hard, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he stutters out.

Gesturing to the glass that Dan is just idly stirring, Phil asks, “Are you going to drink that?”

Dan chokes out a laugh, grinning as he slides the margarita over to Phil. “I think you can have it,” he laughs, watching as Phil grins, finishing off his own before promptly dumping his straw into Dan’s glass.

“Thanks,” Phil beams. Shaking his head, Dan tunes in to their boss, who is announcing an award for Best Procrastinator. With a groan, Dan fully expects it when his own name is called. As he stands, Phil starts cheering loudly, his voice already slurring together with the alcohol coursing through his veins. “Woo! That’s my best friend! Go best friend!” He shouts loudly, earning a few curious and amused glances from the others in the office.

Dan takes the award with an embarrassed smile, nodding his thanks at PJ before stepping back over to his table. Phil smiles broadly at him, doing the tongue thing again as Dan sits. “I guess this is better than what I got last year,” he shrugs, mostly to himself. He looks up at Phil, who’s got this soft sort of smile on his face. “Remember last year when I got the Straight Up Lad award because of that one time I talked to PJ about England’s football team?”

Giggling, Phil nods. “That was hilarious.” He gushes out, his eyes slightly unfocused.

Nodding along, Dan shrugs, unthinking about his own words. “It was ridiculous. There’s nothing straight about me.” At this, he blushes profusely, glancing up at Phil. Of course, Phil wouldn’t judge him for being gay, Phil was gay himself, after all. But this was the first time Dan had said it so explicitly.

Phil stares at him for a moment, surprise on his features, before he suddenly bursts out laughing, his eyes squeezing shut as he throws his head back to laugh. Dan only stares at him fondly, wishing more than anything that he could see him laugh like that forever. He felt such a warmth in his stomach from getting that kind of reaction out of Phil, and he knew it had everything to do with his crush on him. Dan had never felt it hit him so powerfully, however, and he found it hard to resist his instinct to lean over and kiss Phil, which is what he wanted more than anything.

Wiping a tear of mirth from his eye, Phil glances up at Dan with a smile. “Wow, Dan,” he sighs. “I can’t believe you.”

Dan shrugs sheepishly, unsure if this is meant in a good way or a bad one. “Yeah… that was… That was pretty bad,” he agrees, watching as Phil slurps up the rest of his second margarita, tossing the straw out to tilt it back into his mouth, catching the last dregs and the ice cubes. Dan smiles fondly at this.

Just as he goes to speak again, maybe to tease Phil about being a lightweight, PJ breaks the moment. “Now this next one, goes to our very own receptionist, Phil Lester,” He starts. Dan immediately cringes, hoping and praying to a god that he doesn’t believe in that PJ isn’t about to do the same shit he always does. Every year for the past three years since they’d gotten engaged, Phil had received the “Longest Engagement” award. Phil didn’t know it, but about a week ago, when PJ had been discussing award ideas with Dan, he’d begged PJ to pick something else, anything else.

Phil too, seems to tense up, probably expecting the usual embarrassment over his silly award. Dan doesn’t think before he reaches across the table, brushing his fingers against the back of Phil’s hands in a comforting fashion. Phil’s blue eyes flicker to his, a small smile quirking at his lips.

PJ continues his speech, and Dan clenches his jaw. Please not again. “And I’m sure all of you know just what it is that Philip here is getting,” PJ teases, enjoying the drama of drawing this out as much as possible. Dan glares daggers at him, but PJ either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care. Before Dan can say anything, PJ continues, “We all know Phil Lester as the man who’s been engaged for going on four years and has yet to set a date for this wedding.”

Phil closes his eyes, shaking his head lightly. Dan wonders vaguely if he wishes he was less drunk right now.  “No,” he whispers, probably thinking this is going in the direction is usually does.

“But, there’s more to Phil Lester than meets the eye.” PJ is saying, causing Dan and Phil to share a confused look before looking to their boss. “No, Phil is also the receptionist, and Dan’s best friend, and also one of the hottest in the office, let’s be honest.” There are a few laughs at this, and Phil’s just drunk enough that he barely blushes. “But no, Phil is also a family man. And by this, I mean that Phil spends a lot of time talking with his mum, or about her. I feel like Kathryn’s best friend sometimes, Phil, from how much I know about her at this point.”

Phil does blush at this and looks down as if he’s ashamed. Dan just smiles broadly, still a little unsure where this is going, but definitely glad that it’s not the same way it usually is. “I just love my mum,” Phil mumbles defensively, causing Dan to chuckle quietly, earning him a light kick in the shin from the older man.

“So, without further ado… Phil, come collect your Biggest Momma’s Boy award!” PJ announces, causing laughter and a round of polite applause to erupt from their colleagues.

Dan smiles broadly, clapping loudly. “Woo!” He mimics Phil’s earlier actions. “Go best friend!” He cheers, grinning smugly when Phil sticks his tongue out at him.

Phil stumbles unevenly to their boss to collect his trophy, and he’s got a wide, uneven smile on his face. Dan props his chin on his hand, staring at Phil fondly. He truly was adorable. Phil takes the trophy in one hand and the microphone from PJ in the other, and Dan raises his eyebrows, curious to see what kind of musings drunk-Phil is about to share with them. “Wow, guys. Thank you so much, I- I don’t even know what to say.” Phil slurs, staring down at the trophy. A few people laugh at this, and Phil flushes.

“Speech!” Dan calls, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Smiling, Phil nods. “That’s a great idea! I’d like to thank my mum, first of all. I love my mum.” Dan snickers at this good-naturedly. Phil hums into the microphone, looking around the room as if he’s thinking. “Oh, and PJ! Thank you, Peej, I like this award. It’s better than the engagement thing. That hurt my feelings.” Phil frowns as he lets this slip, and stares at the floor with his eyebrows furrowed.

Dan frowns, biting his lip as he glances to PJ. Their boss looks guilty, and he reaches for the microphone with an awkward smile. “Right, well, we should move on…”

Phil ducks out of his reach, shaking his head. “No, wait! I also wanna thank Dan, cause, you know, he’s my best friend and I love him.” A confused sort of round of applause goes around their coworkers, and Dan’s cheeks heat up as he looks down. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Phil adds, PJ holding the end of the microphone while Phil holds the top. Dan’s almost certain he’s about to bring Charlie into this, but instead he’s surprised when that’s not what comes out. “I’d like to thank God, too. I feel him here tonight.”

One of the more religious coworkers of theirs starts clapping loudly at this, and Phil just grins widely before releasing the microphone all together. The applause he receives dies down as he stumbles over to his seat, tripping over his own feet. Dan jumps to his feet and manages to catch him just before he falls on his face. “Woah, easy there, tiger,” Dan chastises, pulling Phil up to stand straighter.

Phil looks up into Dan’s eyes, leaning in close. Giggles tumble out of his lips, and he’s so close to Dan’s face that he can feel his breath ghost across his own lips. “My hero,” Phil whispers. Then, surprisingly quick and precise for someone so drunk, Phil ducks forward and presses his lips to Dan’s firmly, catching the younger man completely by surprise. Dan can’t help but squeeze Phil’s sides where he’s holding him steady, responding to the kiss gently.

Pulling away, Phil blinks slowly, staring at Dan’s lips. He giggles then, loudly. “Sorry,” he whispers, bringing a hand up to pat Dan’s cheek.

Dan clears his throat, nodding and stepping away, helping Phil to his seat. “Uh- it’s- it’s okay.” He nods, trying his hardest not to fixate on the fact that he had just felt Phil’s lips against his own.

He glances around, and he’s surprised to see that basically none of their coworkers are even giving them a second look. And sure, it wasn’t like they had made out or anything, but he’d definitely expected some kind of reaction out of them. He awkwardly returns to his seat, running a hand through his curls as he glances over at Phil, who is resting his head on his arm on the table, trailing his hand through the ring of water left behind from one of the margaritas.

“Phil, you okay?” Dan asks quietly, leaning over the table to speak to Phil.

“I don’t feel well,” Phil admits, closing his eyes.

“Oh, um… Do you want to go home?” Dan asks, slightly disappointed.

Phil shakes his head slowly. “No. Wanna eat something first.” He whispers.

Dan smiles at this, pulling his menu out from under Phil’s arm. “Yeah? What would you like?”

Inhaling deeply, Phil’s eyelids flutter. “You,” he says, almost inaudible.

Dan clears his throat at this, glancing around quickly to ensure that no one heard that. Phil was drunk, he probably had no idea what Dan even asked him. “No, what would you like for dinner, Phil? Do you want the chicken alfredo? I know you like that.” Dan’s barely grasping for straws here, trying hard to move the conversation to a safer place.

Phil hums at this, and his eyelids finally flicker open. “Yeah, that sounds good. Can I have another margarita?” He asks hopefully.

Smiling gently, Dan shakes his head and waves over the waitress. “No, bab- Phil. I think you need some water.”

Phil sighs, but nods. Dan relays their order to the waitress, and then sits back, watching as Phil traces shapes onto the table with the water. PJ’s voice is just background noise, and Dan feels his heart flood with warmth when Phil’s eyes flicker up to meet his. “What?” He asks softly.

Dan bites his lip, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he assures him.

Smiling, Phil props his head up with his hand to look Dan in the eyes. “I’m glad Charlie left,” he states easily, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah?” Dan inquires, mirroring Phil’s stance and leaning forward across the table.

Phil nods seriously. “Yeah, he was being a dick.”

Dan laughs at this, but nods. “Mhm, I noticed.” He tries not to sound so thrilled that Phil has confessed this to him, but given the events of the night, it was hard to keep his emotions in check.

Sighing, Phil drops his eyes to the table. “Sometimes I really wish he had picked someone else,” he whispers softly.

Dan pauses at this, unsure of what exactly it is he needs to say. What?

Before he has the chance to ask for clarification, the waitress returns with their meals, placing them in front of them before asking if they need anything else. Dan just smiles tightly and shakes his head, asking her to bring it to them on a shared tab. He’s glad Phil is inebriated, because if he wasn’t Dan’s pretty sure he’d try to argue with him about paying for his meal.

They eat in silence, Phil making appreciative humming noises when Dan asks if his food is alright. He asks for a cup of water to go from the waitress before sending her off with his credit card to pay for their food. The award ceremony is dwindling to a close, and Dan figures they could go ahead and leave when his card is brought back. Phil finishes off his food and sits back with a sigh, smiling tiredly at Dan.

“Did you have enough to eat?” Dan asks him sweetly.

Phil smiles, a soft look to his face as he nods. “Mhm. It was really good. Did she-“

“Here you go, sir. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” The waitress returns with Dan’s card, and sets the cup of water down in front of Phil.

“Thanks,” Dan smiles at her, pulling his wallet out to return his card to its proper spot.

Phil furrows his eyebrows at Dan then, his lips dropping into a pout. “Did you pay for mine?” He asks in a small voice.

Dan chews on his lip uncertainly, suddenly wondering if Phil would be genuinely upset. “I-“ before he can finish, Phil interrupts him.

“Charlie never does that,” he whispers, staring hard at the table.

Dan swallows a lump in his throat and nods, standing and tugging on his coat before going around to grab Phil’s off the back of his chair. He holds it out for him, nodding. “C’mon, Phil. Let’s get you home.”

Phil shoves his arms into the sleeves, mumbling something Dan can’t really hear. PJ doesn’t spare them much of a second glance, probably realizing that Phil was completely trashed at this point. Dan gingerly wraps an arm around Phil’s waist, guiding him to the door as the older man stumbles around. “Easy, careful. Watch your step,” Dan says quietly as he helps Phil out to his car. Phil giggles as he climbs into the passenger seat, clearly finding his inability to walk in a straight line to be pretty hilarious.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Phil murmurs as Dan gets in the driver’s seat and helps Phil buckle his seatbelt.

“You’re welcome,” Dan smiles over at him as he starts the car.

Phil breathes deeply, closing his eyes. “No one ever takes care of me.”

Dan’s heart clenches tightly at this, and he can’t help but lean over and grip Phil’s hand. “I…” He swallows hard before continuing, knowing he can’t say this, he can’t mean this, because he just can’t, Phil’s not his, and yet, he still says it. “I’ll always do my best to take care of you, Phil.” He whispers.

Phil doesn’t answer, but he does squeeze Dan’s hand. They ride in silence for the next few minutes, and it isn’t until they get closer to the apartment Phil and Charlie share that Dan begins to let himself feel sad. He doesn’t want to do this, to just let Phil go back to that douchebag. Because Dan’s selfish and he wants to keep Phil for himself.

“Phil? We’re almost there. Do you want to drink some more of this water to sober up before you go home?” Dan asks, because he’s not a dick, and he’s not going to overstep his boundaries here.

Surprisingly, Phil shakes his head, and then sits up as if he’s remembered something important. “Please don’t make me go home,” he pleads suddenly, turning to face Dan with a look of panic on his face.

Dan frowns, glancing over at Phil as he takes a turn onto the street Phil lives on. “What? Phil, I-“

Phil shakes his head frantically. “I don’t want to go back to Charlie. I can’t, I can’t do it, Dan.” His voice wavers then, and Dan feels his hand come up to grip his forearm.

“I… Phil, what do you mean? You don’t want to go home tonight, or…?”

Phil seems to swallow hard then, glancing out the window at his apartment building that Dan has just pulled up in front of. “I don’t love him anymore,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

Dan draws in a deep breath at this, holding it for a second as he tries to process what he’s just been told. He lets it out slowly and gradually, letting the car idle, never taking his hands off the wheel. His head is swimming with thoughts, most of which he has absolutely no clue how to address. “Okay…” Dan says slowly. “You need to tell him, I think,” he says softly into the quietness surrounding them.

“I can’t,” Phil protests, shaking his head. “He’ll… I don’t know what he’d do if I did that, but I just… I can’t be with him.”

Struggling to make sense of this but knowing that he’s got to come up with some sort of solution here, Dan sighs. “Do you want to come stay at mine tonight, and try to figure this out tomorrow?”

Phil nods, his eyes wide and full of unshed tears. Dan’s heart breaks a little at the sight. “Yeah, I’d like that.” His voice is quiet and full of gratitude.

Dan nods, smiling sadly before pulling back onto the main road towards his own flat.

There had been a couple occasions where Phil had come over, but never on his own. It was always with a group, when Dan had parties and such and invited the people they worked with. It was rare, but it had happened a few times, so Phil already knew what Dan’s flat looked like. Still, Dan felt awkwardly nervous about inviting Phil in.

Dan unlocks the door with one hand, his other resting on Phil’s lower back comfortingly. “C’mon,” he says quietly, guiding Phil in.

Phil glances around the lounge, looking slightly out of place. Dan smiles at this, shrugging of his coat and pushing his shoes off by the door. “You can just make yourself at home,” he stated, gesturing to the sofa. “I’m going to go get you some ibuprofen tablets. Do you need anything else?” Dan asks, propping his hands on his hips.

The older man glances at him, a soft smile on his face. “No, I’m good.”

Dan smiles and holds up a finger to indicate that he’d be back in a minute. He stops in his bedroom and shucks off his pants and his button-up, pulling on his pajamas quickly so Phil doesn’t have to wait on his own very long. He stops in the bathroom and grabs the ibuprofen before returning to the lounge, where Phil is waiting, his phone held up to his ear. He glances up at Dan with a frown on his face, but only shakes his head when Dan gives him a concerned look.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Yeah.” He hangs up quickly after that, sighing deeply. “That was Charlie. I was just calling him to let him know that I wouldn’t be home tonight.” He explains to Dan, standing up and stumbling slightly.

Dan nods, scratching the back of his neck uncertainly. “Here, take these.” He hands the pills to Phil, nodding to the to-go cup on the coffee table, still mostly full of water.

“Thanks,” Phil says softly. He takes the tablets quickly, swallowing a few sips of water before setting the cup back down and rocking on his heels awkwardly. His eyes are still wet with tears, and Dan looks at him in sympathy.

“Come here,” he whispers, grabbing his hand and bringing him in for an embrace. Although Phil was four years older, Dan was a good inch or two taller than him, and so he easily tucked Phil’s head into the crook of his neck, pushing a hand up through his hair to hold him there. Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s waist and Dan’s heart clenches when Phil begins shaking, silently crying. “Shh. It’s okay. Everything is fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil gasps against Dan’s neck, which is quickly growing wet with tears.

Shaking his adamantly, Dan tightens his grip around Phil’s shoulders. “Don’t be silly. There’s nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I should be sorry that you’re engaged to such a dick,” he says in a poor attempt at lightening the mood.

Phil has a similar sense of humor and manages a wet laugh. “Soon to be ex,” he responds glumly.

Dan swallows hard at hearing the words spoken aloud for the first time. Sure, he’d expected Phil to break up with him, but he was still a little pleasantly surprised that he actually planned on doing so. Rather than ask about the when and how of this like he very much wants to, Dan pulls away just enough to look Phil in the eyes. “C’mon. I know what’ll make you feel better.” He slowly steps back, taking Phil by the hand to pull him towards the bathroom. Phil’s eyes widen comically, probably assuming Dan meant something completely different, and the younger man only laughs. “A bubble bath, you spoon.” He rolls his eyes fondly when Phil’s mouth drops into an ‘o’ in understanding.

Turning the faucet on and checking to make sure the water is at the perfect temperature, Dan shoves the stopper in before turning to grab a basket of assorted bath bombs and salts. He was a bit of a diva when it came to his baths, and he liked having a lot of good scented stuff to choose from. He hands it to Phil, who looks amusedly surprised. “Here, pick whatever you like. I’m gonna go grab you some pajamas and I’ll be right back.”

Phil nods, digging around in the basket and checking a few of the names on each of the products, likely checking for a scent he would like. Dan smiles to himself before ducking out of the bathroom, grabbing a pair of boxers, an Undertale t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants. He normally slept in boxers himself, but he’d probably be sleeping in his Game of Thrones pajama pants tonight since he was planning on offering to let Phil share his bed. He knew that was probably crossing a line, but there wasn’t a spare bedroom and the couch wasn’t long enough for either of them to sleep on. It really only made sense to offer Phil the other side of his bed.

When Dan returns to the bathroom, he’s greeted with the sight of Phil already standing with his shirt off, folded neatly on the counter by the sink. He seems to be debating about his trousers when Dan walks in, and the older man’s face floods with color when Dan smiles at him. “Did you pick some of the bombs and things out?” He asks, holding up the pajamas to show Phil before setting them on the sink as well.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He points to the things he’d picked out and Dan wanders over, smiling when he sees that Phil had picked a strawberry-scented Pokéball bath bomb and a small packet of mint-scented salts.

“I have some bubbles too,” Dan informs him, reaching onto the shelf and grabbing the bottle. Without waiting for his reaction, Dan pours a generous amount into the slowly filling tub, setting the bottle back before grabbing the bomb and unwrapping it, tossing it into the tub. He can feel Phil’s gaze on him, and he tries hard to ignore their close proximity as he pours the salts in as well. “There we go,” he announces proudly, turning around to face Phil.

Phil’s expression has shifted into one of determination as he steps even closer to Dan, and Dan barely realizes what it is that he’s doing until he feels Phil’s hands on his waist, tugging him closer. Phil leans in, and just as he presses his lips to Dan’s, the younger man tilts his head just to the side, so that Phil’s lips fall on his dimple instead.

Dan swallows hard, feeling Phil tense up when he realizes his kiss had been rejected. It takes everything in Dan to do it, but he gently leans away, putting a little more space between them so he can look into Phil’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“No, no. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what got into me.” Phil shakes his head adamantly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, avoiding Dan’s gaze pointedly.

Sighing, Dan gingerly brings a hand up to Phil’s chin, tilting it so that their eyes meet. “I want to. Believe me, I really, really want to,” he says slowly, staring straight into those blue-green eyes and hoping that Phil understands how much he wants him, how much he has wanted him for years. “But, you’re still engaged. Whether you’re ending it or not, right now you’re an engaged man, and I’m…” Dan trails off, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not going to be that man, the one who does… that.”

Phil stares at him for a long moment before nodding slowly, a kind of resigned look on his face. “Okay,” he whispers, sounding sad, but at the same time understanding.

“I want to, though. I’ve wanted that since I met you, really. But I just… we can’t do that. Not now, at least. Okay?”

Nodding, Phil steps away from him. “Okay. I… I think I respect that.”

Dan tries his hardest to hide his smile. “You think?” He asks, biting his lip.

Phil rolls his eyes, but grins. “Yeah. I think so.” He turns around to see that the bath is basically full at that point, and Dan turns to leave. “Uh, Dan?”

“Hm?” The younger man turns back around, quirking an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Can you… um, will you stay in here with me?” He asks timidly, looking embarrassed for even asking.

Dan smiles at this, and nods. It’s not like they’re doing anything. Phil just needs the company, and Dan is more than willing to grant him that. “Yeah. I’ll, uh-“ he points to the door again, gesturing to Phil’s clothes with the other hand. “Just tell me when you’re in the bath,” he says quietly as he turns around to give Phil privacy to undress.

He hears the sound of Phil’s zipper, followed by a stumbling as he no doubt struggles to stand up straight as he removes his clothes. A minute later, Dan hears the sound of the water sloshing against the side of the tub as Phil slips into the bathtub. After a minute of silence, Phil whispers, “okay.”

Dan turns around slowly, ensuring that Phil really is ready for him to do so, and he tries to keep his heart still as he sees Phil looking up at him with soft doe eyes, surrounded by bubbles. Smiling at how adorable he is, Dan walks over and sits himself on the side of the tub. “Is it warm enough?” He asks, dipping his fingers into the water at the edge of the tub.

Phil nods, his hands on his lap. Dan tries very hard to ignore the fact that there’s nothing but water and bubbles separating Phil from Dan’s gaze. He feels his face heat at the very thought, and when his eyes return to Phil’s face he’s smirking, likely because Dan had just been staring at his crotch area. Dan blushes even more profusely at this, purposefully turning away to stare at the wall behind Phil’s head.

He jumps slightly when he feels something wet and soft come up to touch his hand that’s resting on the edge of the tub to support himself. He glances down, a small smile gracing his face when he realizes that it’s Phil’s hand. Tracing his thumb over the wet skin, Dan’s eyes stay focused on their hands as Phil speaks. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Dan shrugs. “You can stop saying that. You’re my best friend, I’d do anything for you.” He would be embarrassed at how sappy that sounds, but he knows that it’s the truth. He absolutely would do anything for Phil.

“Still,” Phil shrugs. “I wasn’t kidding when I said no one ever takes care of me. Generally, I’m the one that does that for Charlie, but he’s not the same way with me.” Phil glances down at the water then, his lips curved into a frown.

Frowning, Dan brings his hand up to push back the hair that had fallen out of Phil’s quiff and onto his forehead. “Well, I’m not Charlie.” He shrugs simply, nodding to the shampoo bottle on the other side of Phil. “Hand me the shampoo.”

Phil does as asked, handing the bottle to Dan and then watching with rapt attention as Dan pours some of the fruity-smelling liquid into his hand. Dan shifts so that he’s got better access to Phil’s hair, grabbing a cup that he keeps on the edge of the bathtub for this very thing. “Close your eyes,” he breathes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the intimacy in this moment. His hands shake as he fills up the cup with water, his eyes tracing over the line of Phil’s neck as he tilts his head back to avoid getting water in his face.

With a careful hand, Dan manages to wet the black hair completely before lathering it in the shampoo, taking his sweet time massaging Phil’s head as he does so. Phil’s making the most adorable little sighs, and every now and then he’ll make a noise that sounds like a hum, which doesn’t help Dan’s growing… problem in his pants. “Are you enjoying this?” Dan asks, intending for it to come out sounding like a joke, but at this point he’s a little breathless and it come out sounding nearly seductive.

Phil doesn’t even seem to notice this, only nodding. “Feels nice,” he whispers.

Dan smiles proudly before finally rinsing off the shampoo. He grabs his conditioner next and gives him a repeat, although he lets the conditioner sit longer. “I’m guessing you don’t get your hair washed by someone else very often?” He asks quietly, a sadness to his voice. Dan honestly always loved having his hair washed or washing someone else’s. His last boyfriend enjoyed sharing a bath as much as Dan did, so they did it pretty often. Too bad he was a cheater.

Phil shakes his head slowly in response to Dan’s words. “No…Sometimes Charlie wants to… um…” he trails off and his cheeks flood with color, and Dan smirks.

“Sometimes he wants to have shower sex?” He guesses easily, biting his tongue when Phil smacks his arm lightly.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, laughter in his tone. “But yeah. Something like that. And like, that’s fine, but sometimes…” He sighs then, as if he’s not sure what he’s even trying to say. But Dan gets it, honestly.

He gingerly raises the cup of water to rinse off the conditioner, running a hand through Phil’s hair as he does. “Sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of,” he says conversationally.

“Yeah,” Phil whispers.

Dan only smiles before focusing solely on rinsing out his hair, which he does without getting a single drop into Phil’s eyes. “There. All done,” he murmurs when he’s finished, leaning back and wiping his hands on his pajama pants.

Phil opens his eyes slowly, smiling up at Dan with such a fond look that it grips Dan’s heart. “Thank you for washing my hair,” Phil whispers. Dan only nods wordlessly before standing, grabbing a towel and setting it on the edge of the tub.

“I’ll step out, so you can get dressed.” He nods to the pajamas before stepping out of the bathroom, hearing the sound of the water draining out of the tub behind him. He walks to his room slowly, taking a minute to catch his breath and let himself process everything that’s happened tonight. It’s been a truly long evening, and he knew that Phil was likely feeling much worse than he was, since he would likely have a hangover tomorrow, while Dan wouldn’t. He sighs as he sits on the edge of his bed, glancing at the digital alarm clock beside his bed, which reads 10:03.

“Hey, um,” Phil says from the doorway, shifting around awkwardly. Dan smiles at how cute he is standing there in Dan’s clothes, but then he’s thinking about how Phil is in his clothes and his heart is racing again. “Do you have like a blanket I can borrow?” He asks, sending Dan briefly into confusion before he realizes he hadn’t told Phil the sleeping arrangements for the night.

“Oh, you can sleep with me. I promise I don’t talk in my sleep or anything like that, and it’s comfier than the sofa.” He says, biting his lip as he waits for Phil’s response.

Please don’t freak out, please don’t freak out.

Phil looks surprised, but he chews on his lip as if he’s hiding a smile. “Okay… are you sure?” He asks again, his face unsure.

Dan nods, shifting on his bed and pulling the duvet down on the side he doesn’t sleep on, patting the space in invitation. “Yeah, come on. Just turn the light off on your way.”

Flicking the switch and casting the room in darkness, Phil stumbles toward the bed, sinking down slowly when he reaches the mattress. Dan crawls under the duvet himself, turning to face Phil on his side as he waits for the older man to get comfortable. He can just make out his face in the darkness, and Dan smiles at him. “Warm enough?” He asks, reaching out to pull the duvet further up onto Phil’s shoulder.

“Mhm. Very cosy.” Phil’s voice is quiet in the darkness, and Dan’s heart swells as a little voice reminds him that they’re actually sharing a bed.

“Good.” Shifting a little to tuck his hand under his pillow, Dan tries to keep a respectful distance away. He’d rejected Phil’s kiss not an hour ago, he needed to be careful with how he proceeded here.

“I’m scared, Dan.” Phil’s voice breaks the silence as Dan settles into a comfortable position. “I’m scared that Charlie is going to be mad when I tell him I don’t want to be with him.”

Dan takes a slow inhale, really unsure with how he needed to respond to that. “I know,” he starts slowly, because he did know. Of course Phil was nervous to do that, it was a terrifying thing to do, especially with someone as neurotic as Charlie seemed to be. “But I can go with you, if you want. I don’t want you to do it alone.” He tentatively reaches out, finding Phil’s hand in the darkness.

Phil’s fingers intertwine with his, the older man squeezing gently. “Thank you. I think I’d like that.”

Dan’s mind catches on the “think” part of his sentence, and he idly thinks about how a lot of things that Phil says include that word, as if he feels that he can’t just say that he’s sure about something. It almost feels like a safety net to Dan, but perhaps that’s just him projecting; with several years of therapy for his own issues under his belt, he can confidently say that he tends to do that sometimes.

His thoughts are interrupted as Phil pulls his hand away slowly. “Hey, Dan?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm?” Dan responds in the same tone. There’s a pause, and Dan props himself up on his elbow. “What?” He asks, concerned.

“Can you… Can you turn around? Like, can we… nevermind. Goodnight.” Phil’s words are rushed, and Dan feels the bed shift as Phil turns around.

Dan frowns, staring at the back of Phil’s head, which is kind of just a blur in the darkness. Tentatively, he sets a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “What do you need, Phil? Do you…” he’s unsure if he’s projecting here or if maybe, just maybe, Phil wanted the same thing he did here. “Do you want to cuddle?” He asks, feeling silly even asking.

To his relief, Phil rolls back over, and Dan can just make out the smile on his face in the darkness. “Please,” he whispers.

Dan smiles at this and settles back down. “Do you want to be the big spoon?” He asks, Phil’s earlier words bouncing around in his head.

Phil nods quickly, confirming Dan’s thoughts. Dan dutifully turns around and scoots back to press his back to Phil’s chest. This is okay, right? He can cuddle with his best friend. It’s not like they’re doing anything that would compromise a relationship, even if that relationship was coming to an end. This was just simple, platonic cuddling.

“Better?” Dan asks as Phil drapes an arm over his waist, intertwining their fingers. Phil’s left arm is pillowing his head, and Dan feels small and safe like this, something he rarely feels. Even if this evening had been about making Phil feel safe and taken care of, Dan feels that this might be doing the trick for him too.

“Mhm. Much. I never get to be the big spoon,” Phil mumbles sleepily against Dan’s neck. Dan squirms as he feels his lips brush the space there, his neck an incredibly sensitive place for him generally. “Sorry, I forgot about your neck thing,” Phil whispers, holding his face a little further away.

Dan smiles at how considerate he was, closing his eyes as he truly lets himself feel how exhausted he is. “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds quietly.

Phil laughs softly then, and after a few moments, Dan feels his breathing slow down, getting slower and deeper. Dan smiles at this and starts working on matching his own breathing to Phil’s. Falling asleep like this is nice and almost therapeutic for Dan, and the last thing he thinks of as he falls asleep is that by the following night, Phil would be a single man.

---

The next morning is a little strange for both of them, mainly because when they wake up, their legs are tangled together and there’s not an inch of space between them. Phil’s left arm had somehow managed to shift last night to cushion Dan’s head, while his right hand had somehow wound up tucked under Dan’s shirt. While Dan had blushed at this, he also thought it was sort of adorable. He feels even breaths on his neck and just lays there in silence for a moment before he feels Phil slowly tracing shapes on his stomach. So, a good strange, but strange nonetheless.

After getting up and making coffee, Dan suggests that they have pancakes before the inevitable part of the day where he drives Phil back to his apartment, where he’s going to break things off with Charlie. Dan doesn’t want to feel good about this, at least on Phil’s behalf, because he knows better than anyone that sometimes even a toxic relationship can hurt when you let go of it. So, he was determined to be there for Phil, in whatever capacity he could be.

They have a quiet breakfast, mainly due to the fact that Phil is still a little hungover and his head his hurting, but Dan makes him eat enough to take some ibuprofen, insisting that he take some and drink two glasses of water.

“It’ll make you feel better,” he sing-songs, trying to be as convincing as possible.

Phil groans, but nods, swallowing another bite of pancake before scooping the tablets into his mouth and downing them with the water Dan handed him. Dan doesn’t move from his side until he’d drank the whole glass, and only after he’s refilled it and set it back down does he go back to his own breakfast.

After washing up the dishes and cleaning the kitchen a little, Dan goes to his room to get dressed, offering Phil some of his clothes so he’s not re-wearing the same thing he’d worn the night before. Phil comes out of the bathroom wearing a black sweatshirt and a pair of black jeans, looking slightly embarrassed. “Everything you own outside of work clothes is just pitch black, isn’t it?” He asks, shoving the long sleeves up his arms a bit.

Dan shrugs, gesturing in his closet with a smile as he grabs his phone. Phil peeks around and lets out a low, “oh,” before turning to look at Dan with a look of surprise on his face. “That’s like, a black hole, Dan.”

“My favorite kind of hole,” Dan grins at the way Phil rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated by Dan’s lame jokes. “Ready to go?” He asks, gesturing to the door.

Phil nods, sighing. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Dan gives him a sympathetic look before walking out of his flat, locking the door behind him before leading Phil to his car. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be right outside if you need me, you know.” He hesitates before figuring, fuck it, reaching out to take Phil’s hand in his. “I’ve been there, but trust me, it’s going to be fine. I’ll be right there with you,” he reassures him, watching the way that Phil smiles tentatively, nodding.

The drive to Phil’s flat is quiet, and Dan idly wonders if he’ll kick Charlie out. A distant memory, one of Phil mentioning that he’d moved in with Charlie after they officially got engaged about three years ago, floats into his mind, and he cringes. The flat is likely in Charlie’s name only, meaning Phil wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. Dan already knew he’d offer his own flat, but he was uncertain about whether Phil would accept or not.

When they pull up outside of the towering brown brick building, Dan turns the car off, turning to study Phil. Phil’s not looking at him, his gaze locked on the door to the building, a terrified look on his face. “Hey,” Dan says gently, reaching out to touch Phil’s arm gently. Phil’s fearful eyes flit to meet Dan’s, and he reaches up to grip Dan’s hand. “I’m right here, okay? Do you want me to go in with you?” he asks softly, not really wanting to but willing to do it if it would make him feel more at ease.

Luckily, Phil shakes his head. “No, I can do this on my own. I need to do this on my own. But… Can you like, wait outside the building? In case he does try to do something?” Phil sounds nervous just asking this, but Dan’s already nodding before he can finish.

“Yeah, of course.” He unbuckles his seatbelt immediately, slipping out of the car, Phil quickly following behind.

Phil stares at the door, a pained look on his face. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Hopefully this won’t take long,” he mutters before glancing at Dan.

Dan only nods, stepping to lean against the side of the building while he waits. “I’m right here if you need me,” he reminds him gently before Phil nods and disappears into the building. Dan sighs then, settling in to wait, his stomach twisting with nerves.

---

As it turns out, Phil is right. It doesn’t take as long as Dan thought it might, as he’d expected to be out there anywhere from half an hour to a full hour. So, although he was impatient and more than ready for Phil to come back, he’s surprised when Phil comes through the door, a duffle bag slung over one arm, a backpack slung over the other. Dan steps forward to ask how it went, but it’s not until then that he realizes that Phil isn’t alone.

“You,” Charlie hisses, his voice full of venom.

Phil spins around at this, glaring at Charlie. “Drop it, Char. Leave Dan out of this.”

Charlie completely dismisses this, stepping closer to Dan, who is quickly feeling claustrophobic and nervous. “So, I was right. This is all your fault. I fucking told Phil, I told him that I didn’t like you two hanging out. What did you say to him? Huh? What the fuck did you tell him?” He’s screaming into Dan’s face, and if Dan was a smarter human, he’d probably think before speaking.

“Get the fuck out of my face, for starters,” Dan says calmly, a weird kind of adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He’d been bullied as a child, but he’d also been a smartass. He knew the script for this scene, and he knew that Charlie wasn’t likely to actually do anything out here, on a busy street; or at least, he hoped that was the case.

“Excuse me?” Charlie growls, his voice threateningly low.

“Charlie, stop. Dan, come on,” Phil tries, standing just behind Charlie, pleading with Dan with his eyes.

“You’re excused. And, if you’ll excuse me, actually, I’m gonna get going. Nice chat.” He nods cordially to Charlie before gracefully sidestepping him, moving over to Phil.

“Fuck you, Howell!” He shouts, his face red and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“No thanks,” Dan calls over his shoulder with a shrug, taking the duffle bag from Phil to put in the car.

“Fine. Whatever. You know what? You can have him. Fucking slut.” Charlie seethes, crossing his arms.

Dan pauses from where he’s setting the bag in the car, and he turns to face Charlie as he shuts the door. Phil catches his gaze, a questioning expression on his face. Dan only shakes his head slowly, his eyes meeting Charlie’s. Every fiber of his being is screaming for him to go over there and punch this idiot in the face, but Dan’s not an idiot. He’s well aware that Charlie could hurt him, and even then, he knows that Phil is strictly against violence, and he wouldn’t dare initiate a fight with his ex, especially not in this situation.

“I feel sorry for you,” Dan says simply, putting as much pity into his voice as he can. “You’re bitter, and hateful, and sad. And now you’re losing the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” Dan shrugs then, nodding for Phil to get in his car. Phil complies, and after seeing that he’s put his seatbelt on, Dan turns back to Charlie, who looks unsettled, underneath the set jaw and defiant stance. “But you know what? You fucking deserve it. Bye, asshole,” He mutters as he slides into the car, slamming the door behind himself.

Phil watches Dan as he slides his seatbelt on, starting the car at the same time. They’re silent as he pulls out of the parking space and onto the main road, neither of them sparing Charlie a second look. “You didn’t have to say that,” Phil says quietly.

Dan cringes, worried that he’d offended Phil, even though that hadn’t been his intention. “I’m sorry, I know-“

“No, I mean… You didn’t have to defend me… and you did.” Phil’s voice sounds inquisitive, and Dan spares him a glance as he takes a turn, heading back to his own flat.

“Of course I did,” he says gently. “I care about you, I’m always going to do that, Phil.”

Phil looks down at his lap, and Dan catches the smile that stretches across his face. “Thank you,” he whispers, still looking down.

Feeling bold, Dan reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing Phil’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Anytime.”

---

“You can stay here as long as you need, Phil, I promise you’re not intruding. I live alone, remember?” Dan says later as they’re in the kitchen making dinner. They had spent the majority of the day after the whole Charlie situation just lounging in the living room, watching anime. Phil hadn’t brought the whole thing up until a few minutes ago, when he’d followed Dan into the kitchen, where he was making stir fry. He’d asked Dan if it would be okay for him to stay the night again, and Dan nearly laughed.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” Phil says uncertainly, rubbing his arm as he watches Dan move around the kitchen.

“Of course. I love having sleepovers, Phil. This’ll be fun for me, I promise.” Dan reassures him yet again.

Phil nods, still looking unsure, but slightly more willing to accept it. “Want any help?” He asks, gesturing to what Dan is doing.

Dan shrugs, but there’s really nothing for Phil to do. “Well, not right now, I’ve just gotta keep an eye on this until it’s done.” He smiles slightly, nodding to the lounge. “You wanna go watch some more anime while I do this? I’ve seen most of that season anyway,” he suggests, not to get rid of Phil, but just to give him something to do.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Phil looks kind of embarrassed as he speaks. “I kind of just… wanted to be with you,” he admits, his cheeks dusting with that adorable pink color that Dan just wants to kiss right off.

Dan grins when he processes his words but tries his hardest to appear nonchalant. “Yeah?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. “Well, here I am,” he says jokingly.

The older man nods at this, biting his lip as if he’s debating on something. “Can I…” He trails off, his cheeks reddening as he looks at Dan.

Stirring the food in the pan, Dan glances over his shoulder, waiting patiently for Phil to continue. When it’s clear he isn’t going to, Dan frowns. “Phil, whatever it is, yes. It’s fine.” He shrugs, figuring that nothing Phil could be considering could be too bad. After all, Dan had been basically in love with Phil for years, the fact that he was now single made him even more certain that he was perfectly willing to comply with anything Phil suggested; within certain limits, considering he was still very much in the middle of making their dinner.

Phil studies him for a moment, and Dan only smiles reassuringly at him. This seems to prompt Phil into action, and he steps closer, positioning himself right behind Dan. Dan swallows hard at the warmth he feels against his back, but then he’s gasping quietly as Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, holding him against his chest tightly. Heart racing wildly, Dan tries so hard not to grin or do anything stupid like laugh hysterically; this is harder than it should be, as he’s been longing for this kind of intimacy with Phil for years.

“Is this alright?” Phil whispers into his ear, his chin propped on Dan’s shoulder.

Dan nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, this is fine, Phil.” He brings his hand that isn’t stirring their food up to tangle in Phil’s hair, petting gently. Phil hums at this, and Dan smiles, feeling completely warm as they stand in his little kitchen like that, Phil clinging onto him like a lifeline. But Dan didn’t mind this; quite on the contrary, as it felt refreshing to feel as if he was needed by someone.

And so, they stand there like that until their food is done, and then they take it into the lounge to eat while they watch Netflix, Dan insisting that the dining table was strictly just for decoration in his house.

---

It’s not until nearly two hours later, dinner long gone, and plates deposited into the sink, that Phil finally acknowledges the day’s events.

“Dan,” Phil says softly from where he’s sat leaning against Dan’s side.

“Mhm?” Dan responds, his eyes straying from the episode of Stranger Things that they were on to look over at Phil.

Phil swallows hard, and Dan’s eyes shamelessly trace the way his Adam’s apple bobs. Dan always finds this insanely hot, so he quickly moves his eyes back up to Phil’s face, feeling guilty for even having that thought. “There’s a reason I couldn’t marry Charlie,” he admits softly.

Dan frowns at this, moving to sit back so that he has a better view of Phil’s face. “Other than the fact that he was an emotionally abusive dick who took every opportunity to treat you horribly?” Dan asks, trying his hardest to make it sound light and joking, when in reality his opinion of Charlie was even worse than that. But he definitely wasn’t about to tell Phil what he really thought of his stupid ex.

“No, believe it or not, there were other factors,” Phil tries to match his tone, but it too falls slightly far of humor, but Dan smiles anyway.

“Yeah, and what were some of these other factors?” He asks, bringing his hand up to brush a stray hair out of Phil’s eye.

Phil glances away briefly, taking a deep breath. “I’m in love with someone else.”

Dan’s heart plummets at those words, and he slowly withdraws his hand. His mind is suddenly flooded with various thoughts, most of which are just completely confused. He really thought, after Phil kissed him at the restaurant, and then tried to do the same again in the bathroom… He’d really thought that mean that he felt the same…

Phil seemingly realizes that Dan has gone into full panic mode, and he sits up. “Dan.” When he’s met his gaze again, Phil carefully sits onto his knees, throwing one over Dan’s legs so that he’s straddling his lap. Dan swallows, his heart pounding as his blood rushes south. “I’m in love with someone that isn’t Charlie.” He says this slowly, and Dan furrows his eyebrows, and he’s pretty positive that Phil is trying to make a point here.

“But…” He stutters, looking past Phil, trying to make sense of this. He’s not in love with Charlie… which Dan already knew… But he didn’t say…

“Dan,” Phil says softly, bringing his hands up to cradle Dan’s face. “It’s you. I couldn’t marry Charlie because I’m in love with you.”

The words leave his lips and enter the air between them, and Dan can only stare dumbly up at the man on his lap, his mouth dropping open as if he’s got an actual response. He feels as if his mind has had some sort of glitch, and he can only process the ladder half of Phil’s announcement. “I’m in love with you,” echoes around Dan’s head until he finally manages to get his brain back to communicating with his mouth.

He opens his mouth to say something, an affirmation that he felt the same perhaps, but what comes out of his mouth is not exactly what he thought. “Are you sure?” He asks, immediately blushing as the words tumble out.

Phil opens his mouth at this, and then pauses, tilting his head as he looks at Dan. Instead of annoyed, however, his face floods with a fond look, and he smiles. “Positive.”

Dan sees it coming this time, naturally, because Phil’s hands are still holding his face, so of course Dan fully realizes what his intentions are when he leans in. Unlike last night, however, Dan has no intentions of stopping him.

~

Their lips brush tentatively at first, and Dan brings his hands up to settle gently on Phil’s hips. At the contact, Phil seems to gain a little more confidence, and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Dan almost groans at this, swiping his tongue across Phil’s bottom lip in question. Phil barely hesitates before opening his mouth, allowing Dan to explore inside. They sit like this for several moments, until Phil shifts, and Dan gasps at the friction that his movement causes.

“Wait,” Dan gasps, pulling away slightly. “Are we- do you want to...?” He trails off a little, but at his words, Phil only groans, grinding down hard into Dan’s lap, causing his half-hard cock to swell in arousal. “Fuck, okay. Bedroom.”

Phil only nods before sitting up, tugging on Dan’s hands to pull him from the sofa and down the hall. Dan’s in a daze at this point, his arousal taking away the majority of his common sense as he struggles to grasp the reality that this is happening. He’s about to have sex with Phil, who he’s been pining after for close to six years. He groans when Phil sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Dan closer by his waist.

“This okay?” Phil asks against his lips as he drags his hands down to the zipper of Dan’s jeans.

“Yes,” Dan gasps, pressing his lips to Phil’s with fervor as the older man works on getting his jeans undone. Meanwhile, Dan is thinking Phil’s got entirely too many clothes on, and he begins tugging at his shirt incessantly. “Off,” he whispers, pulling away just enough to tug the thin material off his head, tossing it somewhere behind him carelessly. Sure, Phil looked good in his clothes, but Dan imagined he looked even better without them.

Dan takes a moment to just look then, and as his hands trail along Phil’s chest, it occurs to him that Phil only just broke up with his fiancé a few hours earlier. Despite the fact that Phil had initiated this, doubts suddenly creep in, and Dan slowly pulls away.

“What? Are you okay?” Phil asks, pausing his movements of tugging Dan’s jeans down his legs to look up at him in confusion.

Dan nods uncertainly. “Yeah, it’s just... you just broke up with Charlie, Phil. Are you sure you’re ready?” He doesn’t mean to ruin the moment, really, but he can’t help that nagging feeling that he needs to ask, just to be absolutely sure.

Phil smiles fondly then, bringing his hands up to cradle Dan’s face like he had done before. “Yes, Dan. I’ve wanted this for so long. Please, please let me have it.” His words are almost begging, and even a stronger man couldn’t resist that. Dan only nods, his throat too tight to say anything. “Besides,” Phil adds, almost conversationally. “Charlie and I haven’t slept together in almost six months.” His voice has an embarrassed tone to it, but Dan sees the frown on his face.

“Hey,” He says gently, reaching down to brace himself on Phil’s shoulders as Phil tugs the jeans off his feet, one foot at a time. When Phil meets his gaze, Dan smiles reassuringly. “I’m not Charlie, okay? So, whatever you did with him, whatever sex or anything was like with him, just forget that for now.”

Phil nods at this, albeit a little uncertainly. Dan decides that’s the best he’s going to get and tugs his own shirt off before gently pushing Phil’s shoulders back, motioning for him to move further up on the bed, so that his head is resting on the pillows and the rest of him is spread out. Dan gives himself a moment to just look and appreciate the tapered waist and his broad shoulders, and the soft trail of hair that leads to the top of his underwear. Dan licks his lips then, his dick swelling in his pants at the thought of what’s to come.

“Are you going to keep looking at me or are you going to touch me?” Phil finally whines softly.

Dan smirks at this, but brings his hands up to his zipper, undoing it smoothly before tugging the offending fabric down his legs. It takes a moment of struggle and giggles to pull the jeans completely off, but Dan smiles when they’re on the floor and out of sight. “So beautiful,” Dan murmurs, trailing his hands up Phil’s thighs, tucking one up the leg of his borrowed boxers, tracing the soft skin there with his index finger.

Phil shifts on the bed, clearly growing impatient. Dan watches his face, waiting for him to demand to be touched. When no such demand comes, Dan frowns. He was generally a bottom, and while he didn’t mind topping, he’d certainly not imagined their first time going any other way. He figures maybe this is just something Phil needs a little direction on, maybe he’s not used to taking the lead on these sorts of things.

Despite the idea that this might ruin the mood, Dan figures it’s in their best interest to just ask which way Phil would prefer to do it. “Er- do you want to bottom or top?” He asks, suddenly nervous of the answer. Of course he wanted to do both with him, but he could see the outline of Phil in his boxers and knew that he himself was slightly smaller. He didn’t think Phil to be a size queen, but he also didn’t want to disappoint on their first time. With being a bottom, Dan knew he couldn’t really fail; one of his many personal prides was the fact that he took cock so well, after all.

Phil looks positively puzzled by the question. “Oh, um, I just assumed I’d bottom.” Seeing Dan’s expression probably, Phil continues. “That’s what I always did with Charlie. He didn’t like to bottom.” He bites his lip after he says this, looking up at Dan in what is very clearly uncertainty.

Dan sits back on his heels, his hands leaving Phil’s thighs in favor of resting on his knees gently. “Okay, is that what you want to do now?” Dan asks, sensing a little reluctance on Phil’s part.

This seems to give Phil pause. “I... I’ve never really been given the choice,” he says softly. Dan’s eyes widen slightly, and he tries not to let Phil see his surprise.

“Would you like to top?” Dan asks sweetly, stroking Phil’s knee and the smooth skin just above it gently.

“I... I don’t know, with Charlie I always-“

Dan cuts him off then, tired of how many times the name Charlie had already made it into their conversation. “Nope, no more Charlie. I’m not asking what you did with him, Phil. I’m asking what you want to do with me, right now.” As if to get his point further across, Dan brings his hand up to Phil’s cloth-covered bulge and squeezes gently. Phil groans at the contact before leaning forward and grabbing at Dan’s arms. “What do you want, Phil?” Dan whispers, trying his hardest to give it a seductive quality.

“You, god- wanna be inside you.” He gasps out as Dan continues to squeeze and massage his cock.

Dan smiles down at him, squeezing him gently once more before crawling towards his nightstand. Phil is panting beside him, and Dan fumbles with the lube when Phil brings a hand up, slipping a finger under the band of Dan’s underwear teasingly. Phil smiles innocently when Dan turns around to shoot him a look, and Dan only rolls his eyes as he finally gets hold of the bottle of lube he keeps in his drawer. It was half-used already, although Dan hadn’t slept with anyone in well over a year. He just enjoyed fingering himself, and when you’re twenty-seven and you live alone...

“Do you want to stretch me or do you want me to do it myself?” Dan asks Phil, holding the bottle out to him in offering. Phil sits up at the sight of it, taking it tentatively.

“Can I do it? I’ve never done it to another person,” he requests quietly, glancing down as his cheeks flush.

Dan only nods frantically. He loved to be fingered, and it was even better if it was someone else, so heat was already pooling in his stomach in anticipation. He sits up on his knees then, and with a confidence he doesn’t entirely feel, he pushes his boxers down to his thighs, freeing his cock from the confines of the material. He blushes when Phil’s hand comes to rest on his thigh, his long, pale fingers trailing up gently.

“Dan,” Phil chokes out, his eyes trailing over every inch of his skin, while his fingers continue to trace up and down his thigh.

Dan only smiles, shifting to pull of his boxers entirely. He sits up and gently pushes Phil to lean back on his hands, slowly dragging his hands down his pale chest. He allows himself a moment to marvel at the hair that trails down underneath the band of the older’s boxers, petting softly. Phil shifts, and Dan smirks when he meets his gaze and sees Phil biting his lip harshly. Feeling slightly guilty for teasing for so long, Dan leans forward and kisses Phil’s chest softly before tucking his fingers into the band of his underwear, slowly dragging the material down.

As he drags the last piece of cloth down Phil’s legs, Dan can’t help the soft noise that leaves his lips as his eyes zero in on his cock. “Oh my god,” he mutters lowly, swallowing hard. He’s long and thick and Dan’s fairly certain Charlie is a fucking idiot disaster gay if he didn’t want to bottom for him.

Phil smiles shyly at him, moving his legs to push his underwear off the rest of the way with his feet. Dan shoves the material off the bed before crawling between Phil’s legs, pulling him in to press a kiss to his lips. “Are you sure about this?” Phil asks, pulling away a little, just enough to brush Dan’s curls back.

Nodding, Dan trails his hand down, wrapping his hand around Phil’s swelling arousal. Phil sucks in a sharp breath at this, and Dan only smirks to himself as he starts moving his hand slowly. “Can I suck you first?” Dan asks quietly, locking his gaze with Phil’s.

The older man nods, his eyes just barely open. “Please,” He whispers. Dan smiles as he pushes gently against Phil’s shoulders, guiding him to lay back on the pillows.

Dan starts out slow and teasing, pressing kisses to Phil’s neck first, gently sucking on the skin above his collarbones. Phil sighs contently as Dan slowly makes his way down his chest, grazing his teeth over one of Phil’s nipples, staring up into his eyes to gauge his reaction.

“Dan,” Phil gasps, his hand coming to rest in Dan’s hair. “Do... oh. Do that again.”

Ever the people pleaser, Dan complies easily, placing his lips over the nub of flesh and sucking gently. Phil arches up, and Dan smirks against his skin. He pays careful attention to each of them before he continues on his way, heat building in his stomach as he gets closer to his destination. If there was one thing Dan enjoyed, it was having a dick in his mouth, and the fact that this was Phil just made it so much better.

Teasing, Dan presses a kiss to the head, pressing his hands against Phil’s hips to keep him still, as the contact had made him buck up. “Stay still,” Dan murmurs before wrapping his lips around Phil’s cock, swirling his tongue around the tip slowly.

“Dan,” Phil sighs above him, throwing his head back on the pillows.

The younger man just grins before sinking down suddenly. It’s a good thing he had the foresight to hold Phil’s hips, because he has next to no control, squirming around under Dan’s touch. “Good?” Dan asks smugly. He knew it was, he was good at this.

“Yes. God, yes.” Phil raises his head up off the pillow to meet Dan’s eyes as he sinks back down on Phil’s length, and his gaze darkens. “God, Dan. You look so fucking good.”

Dan only bats his eyelashes at this, currently unable to speak. He sets to work, stroking the base with one hand as his mouth works the top, but after a couple minutes, Phil is tugging at his hair, pulling him off. “Are you okay?” Dan asks as he pulls away, a string of spit and precome trailing from his mouth to Phil’s leaking cock.

“Yeah, just- I wanna finger you now.” His cheeks somehow flush from saying this, and Dan’s eyes nearly roll back. Somehow even while they’re in the middle of something so intimate, Phil makes Dan’s heart flutter, his heart filled with affection for his best friend.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” He lays down, switching positions with Phil so that he’s now kneeling between Dan’s legs. Dan hands him the lube before spreading his legs, his hands gripping onto his thighs to hold himself still. He’s basically vibrating with excitement at this, and he’s surprisingly unbothered by how open and on-display he currently is.

Phil stares at him for a long moment before lifting his hands to Dan’s legs, slowly working his way up. When he reaches Dan’s inner thighs the younger man inhales sharply, shaking with excitement. “Please,” he whimpers as Phil strokes one finger along his rim, applying no pressure as he does it.

“What do you want?” Phil asks, and Dan groans. He loved this, Phil gaining the confidence to ask him things and to take the lead. It was sexy as hell.

“Your fingers. Please.” Dan pushes himself down, chasing the friction of Phil’s finger.

Phil only smiles, a fond look on his face as he reaches for the small bottle next to Dan. After pouring a liberal amount into his hand and warming it up, Phil shifts, grabbing one of Dan’s legs for leverage as he drops his hand down. “Ready?” He asks, his blue eyes searching Dan’s face for any sign of discontent.

He wouldn’t find any, because Dan is nodding frantically. He starts to say something, but then Phil is pushing a finger in and he’s gasping. “Oh,” he mumbles, his eyelids fluttering close.

“Hey,” Phil whispers, slowly drawing his finger out before pressing back in. “Look at me.”

Dan complies easily, opening his eyes and bringing his gaze to meet Phil’s. He swallows hard at the soft look there, his heart racing.

Phil only smiles at him, the hand on his leg stroking the skin softly. “I want to see your eyes,” he says softly, his gaze unwavering.

Swallowing hard, Dan struggles to make a joke. He feels so open and vulnerable with this unwavering eye contact, but he also feels incredibly hot, like he’s on fire. “Is that a kink of yours?” Dan jokes quietly.

Phil smiles, but shakes his head slowly. “Not exactly...” He slowly presses his middle finger in beside his index finger, and Dan sighs at the burn, pleasure coursing through him. “Charlie didn’t like to meet my eyes when we... but I like it.” He says timidly, dropping his eyes to where his fingers are working, a light pink dusting his cheek.

Dan frowns at this, bringing a hand up to cup Phil’s cheek, tilting his head to meet his gaze. “Okay. So look at me.”

Phil smiles at this, keeping his eyes locked with Dan’s as he spreads his fingers apart inside the younger man, stretching him open. Dan lets out a soft sigh at the feeling but doesn’t drop his gaze. If this was something Phil had been denied, he was more than willing to give it to him now.

“You can add another,” Dan eventually murmurs. Phil quirks an eyebrow, but complies easily enough, the third finger pressing in beside the others, causing Dan’s breath to hitch.

Their eyes stay locked as Phil tilts his head to the side, kissing Dan’s wrist, as his hand is still lightly resting against Phil’s jaw. Dan’s heart swells suddenly, and he feels choked up at the light kisses Phil presses to the fragile skin of his wrist. “Phil,” he breathes, unsure what he even wants, just knowing that he wants him.

“Ready?” Phil asks softly against the skin, changing the angle of his hand slightly. Dan knows that he’s searching for his prostate, and he shifts his hips, gasping when the tips of Phil’s fingers brush against that little bundle of nerves. Phil smiles, pressing against it more firmly, causing Dan to let out an embarrassing whine.

“Please, please. I’m ready.” He nearly whines again at the loss of Phil’s fingers, but he knows that it’s only going to get better.

“Do you have a condom?” Phil asks, pointing to Dan’s nightstand.

Dan bites his lip in contemplation. He did, but he really didn’t want to use one. He knew he was clean, he got tested after every time he slept with someone, and it had been about three months since the last time he’d done that. “I’m clean,” he breathes out, watching Phil’s face carefully to gauge his reaction.

Phil nods slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He pushes his hair back up into the quiff, looking down at Dan. “I am too. Are you positive about this?” He asks, searching for confirmation one more time.

Nodding, Dan sits up and brings his hand to wrap around the back of Phil’s neck, his fingers stretching up into the hair on the nape of his neck. “Yes, I’m a hundred percent sure.” He pulls Phil closer to press their lips together, sighing as Phil’s tongue swipes against his bottom lip.

“Lay down,” Phil murmurs a moment later, pulling away from the kiss. Dan quickly complies, laying back against the pillows and drawing his legs up, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he waits for Phil to get settled. Phil takes another dollop of lube and applies it generously over his bare cock, and Dan’s breath hitches as he watches him stroke himself. “Ready?”

Dan nods, reaching up to push Phil’s hair back as he shifts, his hard length pressing against Dan’s entrance, a whisper of what’s to come. They lock eyes as Phil slowly, slowly sinks in, inch by inch. Dan can’t help it; his eyes clench shut as he drops his head back as he feels himself being stretched around the thick length and he groans loudly. “Fuck, Phil.”

A chuckle is heard above him, and then Phil’s hand is pushing underneath the back of his head, lifting gently so that Dan has little choice but to look at him. “You’re so pretty, Dan,” he murmurs, his voice soft and affectionate.

Dan feels as if he could come right then, just from the affection in his voice. It’s so real and right and fuck, he’s bottomed out and Dan is panting, struggling to fully relax himself around the intrusion. It’d been several months since his last hookup, and this was more than he’d been stretched in a long while. Phil was probably the biggest he’d ever had, so even with the stretching, he was struggling to cope with his size.

“You okay?” Phil pants, arms shaking as he tries his hardest not to move inside Dan, giving him time to adjust.

Dan takes a few deep breaths, waiting for the burn to subside considerably before nodding. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” He experimentally clenches around Phil, gasping sharply as this causes Phil to buck his hips.

“Sorry, sorry.” He’s quick to apologize, moving his hand to stroke Dan’s cheek. His other hand slides off Dan’s leg and moves to prop himself up by Dan’s head, and Phil shifts slightly so he’s leaning in closer. “Are you okay?” He says, his tone full of worry.

Dan hadn’t realized it, but tears were slipping out of his eyes, rolling down the side of his face and crashing to the pillow. He nods, smiling as he reaches up, catching Phil’s hand in his. “Yes, I’m just... I’m a bit overwhelmed, just give me a minute.”

Phil’s face softens at this, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of Dan’s eye, his tongue darting out to swipe at the tears there. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He says softly, repeating the gesture on the other eye. “Do you want to stop?”

“No!” Dan almost shouts, firmly against the idea. He blushes when Phil’s lips pull up into a smirk but shakes his head. “No, I just need a second. You’re a little bigger than I’m used to, it’s just going to take a second.”

Nodding, Phil ducks down to press his lips to Dan’s, softly sucking Dan’s bottom lip into his mouth. Dan lets out a soft sound, closing his eyes as he loses himself in the feeling of Phil’s lips on his while he’s buried inside him. Shifting his hips a little, Dan decides he’s ready.

“Okay, you can move,” he breathes, clutching Phil’s shoulders as the older man pulls out slowly, before pushing back in again. “Ngh-“ Dan grunts, his head falling back.

Phil doesn’t give him much time to feel guilty about the loss of eye contact before he’s pounding into him, a little faster than Dan would prefer in the moment. He certainly wasn’t against quick and rough, but for their first time he definitely wanted to go a little slower. Hoping that Phil wouldn’t be offended, Dan drags his hands down, gripping Phil’s hips tightly, slowing his movements. “Phil, Phil. Wait.”

“Is something wrong? Oh, god, did I hurt you?” His voice is full of worry when he halts his movements, and he brings a hand up to Dan’s head, brushing his curls back.

Dan laughs breathlessly at this, shaking his head fondly. “No, not at all. Just slow down.”

“Oh.” Phil’s face flushes even darker red, his eyes dropping to Dan’s chest. “I thought it was better-“ he starts, sounding suddenly uncertain.

Dan shakes his head, dragging his hand up to swipe his thumb across Phil’s bottom lip. He’s shocked and flustered when Phil opens his mouth and wraps his lips around the tip of his thumb, but he tries not to blush too obviously. “I’m not Charlie, remember? We don’t have to go fast for it to be good.”

Phil releases his thumb and nods, uncertain. “But...”

“Phil. The goal isn’t to have a fast orgasm, it’s to have a good one.” His hand moves to caress Phil’s jaw, and he smiles when Phil’s cheeks flush, probably at his bluntness. “There’s going to be other times to go fast, alright? Just slow down for right now.” He instructs gently. He giggles when Phil ducks his head, looking embarrassed. “Are you embarrassed right now?” He asks, unable to help himself.

“Yes!” Phil whines, covering his face. “You’re sitting here talking about sex and orgasms!” He sounds positively affronted, and Dan only laughs harder.

“Phil, your cock is literally in my ass. I’m not sure how talking about it is all that weird.” He snickers, enjoying this far more than he should.

“Dan!” Phil shrieks, ducking down to hide his face in Dan’s chest.

Grinning, Dan runs a hand through his soft black hair, debating with himself. “Sorry,” he mumbles, craning his neck to kiss his hair. “Here, why don’t we try something a little different?”

At this, Phil perks up, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “What?” He asks slowly. Dan rolls his eyes at his apparent lack of trust, but he wonders if maybe Charlie suggested they try things that he wasn’t in to, or perhaps never suggested anything at all. Dan shudders to think that; he was a firm believer in trying new things and developing many different sexual habits with a partner. But he wasn’t going that far tonight.

“Roll over,” Dan instructs, lifting himself off Phil’s dick so he can follow his orders.

Phil does as requested and Dan wastes no time in climbing over him, swinging his legs over Phil’s waist. The expression on Phil’s face is one of surprise, but his eyes darken as Dan reaches back to position him at his entrance. They lock gazes just as Dan sinks down, a broken sound leaving Phil’s lips as he bottoms out. Dan sighs in content, the pleasure of being so full almost overwhelming him.

“Fuck, Phil. Feel so good like this,” Dan mutters out, slowly lifting himself before dropping back down, causing Phil to hiss out. “Is this okay? I figure- god, Phil....” he pants as Phil shifts his hips up to thrust into him. “I figured this way you’re still technically topping, but I can set a slower pace. Is this-“ his voice breaks off then as he shifts his hips, sending the head of Phil’s cock directly against his prostate.

“This is perfect,” Phil gasps, his hands trailing along Dan’s thighs, and up to hold his hips. “You feel so good, Dan.” Phil grabs Dan’s hair and gently guides him down to press their lips together, putting a bit of a pause to their movements. Dan moves his hips around in a circular motion, and Phil breaks away, gasping into his mouth. “Fuck, that’s- that’s good.”

Dan smiles and presses his lips to Phil’s jaw, trailing down his neck. “See? Told you slow was good.”

“Shut up,” Phil mumbles, catching Dan’s lips again. He keeps moving in slow circles as they kiss, but eventually he pulls away.

He presses his hands to Phil’s chest for leverage as he begins bouncing slowly on his cock, biting his lip hard to keep an embarrassing moan from slipping out. Phil pants beneath him, running his hands over Dan’s thighs, the blue of his eyes taken over by his blown pupils. “Good?” Dan gasps out in question.

“Yes, god. So good. Fuck.”

Dan smirks, leaning back slightly to change the angle just a bit. “Never heard you- fuck, right there,” he interrupts himself to whine, unintentionally closing his eyes as his every movement sends Phil pressing directly against his prostate. “Never heard you say that word much before,” he mumbles out.

“Yeah?” Phil says, his voice sounding choked. “Well, you just feel so fucking good.” If Phil thinks that him swearing turns Dan on, well, he’s right. Dan shakes, so turned on he feels like he can’t even breathe. “Dan, can we… can we flip over? Wanna…”

Dan nods, his thighs shaking too badly to really keep a steady pace. “Yeah, yeah.”

A position change and a deep kiss later, and they’re right back to it, but this time Phil is sliding in slow, the drag of his length inside Dan making the younger man whimper in pleasure. It’s slow and deep and good and Dan’s basically choking back tears at how good he feels. Maybe it’s partially due to how long he’s been celibate, but he feels that the main reason it feels so great is because it’s Phil and he’s wanted this for so long.

“Baby, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” Phil’s murmuring above him, pressing his lips to Dan’s eyes like before. Dan hadn’t even realized he was, he’s just so sappy he can’t even help it.

“You’re so good, Phil, fuck. Wanted-“ he chokes as Phil thrusts in particularly hard, a moan escaping his throat. “Wanted this for so long.”

“Me too. Fuck, Dan. I… Can I tell you something?”

Dan tries to nod, but his head is just rolling around uselessly with the movement of their bodies rocking together, so he groans out, “Yeah, anything.”

Phil doesn’t say anything for a moment, leaning down and pressing his lips to Dan’s, working against them slowly and gently. The intimacy of what they’re doing floors Dan, and he’s got a very dangerous thought in his head, and he’s relieved that his lips are otherwise occupied at the moment. Phil thrusts into him a few more times, and Dan’s breath hitches as he feels that coil of heat and arousal tightening in his stomach, ready to release.

“Phil, close,” he gasps against his lips, in hopes that maybe Phil would work towards his own orgasm. So what if Dan was a hopeless romantic and thought it was sweet to finish together? That’s his business.

“Dan,” Phil chokes out. “I love you. I’m in love with you, Dan,” he sobs, dropping his forehead to Dan’s shoulder.

Dan’s hips stutter against Phil’s before quickly pushing back against him, his hand winding into Phil’s hair to pull him up to bring their gazes together. “I love you too,” he whimpers as he feels that white-hot pleasure coursing through him. He tries his hardest to keep eye contact as his orgasm washes over him, but he’s helpless against the sensations, and he keens as his eyes screw shut, his dick twitching between them as he comes all over his chest.

He knows he’s squeezing around Phil, who’s still rocking into him, a little faster now, as he chases his own release. Dan purposefully clenches around him in an attempt to help him along. “Fuck, oh fuck. Oh god, Dan.” His voice breaks and then Dan feels Phil’s release filling him up, his movements not stopping as he fucks himself through it.

They’re both panting hard when they’ve finished, and Dan idly notices how sweaty they’ve gotten. The air smells like sex, but Dan’s too exhausted and satisfied to care. Phil’s careful, even after his release, and he slowly pulls out of Dan before collapsing onto the bed next to him. Apparently uncaring that Dan’s covered in sweat and come, Phil wraps an arm around his waist and draws him close so they’re laying chest to chest, petting his hair.  

~

After a few minutes, they’ve caught their breath and there’s a silence settled in the room. Dan’s mind is exhausted, but Phil’s words are bouncing around in his head. I love you. Deciding that there’s only one way to know for sure, he tilts his head back to look at Phil’s face. “Hi,” he whispers with a smile when he sees that Phil is already looking at him.

“Hi,” Phil repeats, a fond smile on his face.

Dan shifts slightly, so that he’s lying on the pillow, eye to eye with Phil. “Did you mean it?” He inquires softly, glancing down at his hand as he traces patterns on Phil’s chest. “Or did you just say it in the moment, since we were both… you know.” He blushes despite himself at this, mainly due to the context.

Phil studies him for a second, likely trying to gauge his reaction before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I did.” He pauses, timidly bringing a hand up to Dan’s face, brushing his curls back gently. “Did you?”

Dan nods, smiling as he ducks forward, pressing his lips to Phil’s. “I’ve been in love with you for about… I dunno, when did you start working with me?” He says, almost joking, but not quite. He really only crushed on Phil at first, because he was cute and sweet, but then he got to know him, and well… he fell fast, that’s for sure.

Grinning, Phil presses his lips to the corner of Dan’s mouth. “Funny.” He sighs then, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t think I realized how much I liked you at first, but then, a couple years ago-“

Dan interrupts him then, surprised. “Wait, a couple years ago?” He demands, shocked. “I thought this was a new development for you! Like, I thought this was something you had only just figured out within the last couple of weeks!”

Phil shoots him a perplexed look, then shakes his head. “No, of course not.” He smirks then, quirking an eyebrow. “Do you think I would have just told you I’m in love with you if this was something I had just figured out?” He asks rhetorically.

Shrugging, Dan watches his own hand as he trails his fingers up Phil’s chest, dragging them through the light smattering of chest hair there. “I dunno,” he mumbles. “I guess I just figured if you knew you would have said something sooner.”

A hand comes to grip his chin, and Phil tilts his head so that he can meet his eyes. A serious look is on his face, and Dan gulps. “No, Dan. I’ve known for a couple years that I liked you more than a friend, but it wasn’t until the last year or so that I realized that I was in love with you.”

Dan shakes his head slowly, finding this a little strange to believe. “But, you were going to marry Charlie,” he says, confused.

Phil sighs, but shakes his head. He holds up his left hand, and it takes Dan a minute to realize that it’s devoid of the band that had been there for so long. His gaze shifts from Phil’s eyes, to the space where the ring used to be, and then back again, struggling to grasp what this means. Phil smiles sadly, dropping his hand back to Dan’s curls. “I gave him the ring back eight months ago. I told him I wasn’t ready, and he just made me promise that I would marry him eventually, even if we broke off the engagement.” He takes a deep breath then, staring at Dan’s curls as he flattens them and watches them bounce back up. “That’s why we were fighting last week. I told my parents that I wasn’t going to marry him, and my mum called his.”

Dan’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out in his surprise. They sit in silence for a moment before he finally manages to speak. “Oh,” is all he says.

Phil’s quiet as he nods. “Yeah,” he whispers.

They sit like that, in the quiet, for a long time, before Dan finally speaks. “I love you,” he says timidly, unsure if Phil will return the sentiment now that they aren’t currently in the middle of an orgasm.

Phil smiles at this and presses his lips to Dan’s forehead. “I love you too.”

A silence settles over them until Dan remembers something. “Do you want to move in with me? I mean- fuck, that probably didn’t sound right. I meant like, since you can’t go back to Charlie’s. Or like, until you find somewhere else, if you want. Which, I don’t mind if you don’t, you can stay here with me-“ Dan rambles, suddenly unsure if he’s crossed a line. He doesn’t want to seem like a clingy girlfriend after they only slept together once. Sure, they’d also admitted that they love each other, but still; he tended to overthink these things.

Cutting him off effectively, Phil presses his lips to Dan’s firmly. “I’d love that,” he whispers against his lips before swiping his tongue over Dan’s lower lip.

Dan smiles and returns the kiss with tired enthusiasm, his body feeling weak with fatigue. “Can we sleep now?” He asks, pulling away a little.

Phil crinkles his nose before glancing down. “Maybe we should clean up first?” He must catch the grimace on Dan’s face, and he rolls his eyes. “I’ll run you a warm bubble bath and we can cuddle in it,” he bribes, raising an eyebrow.

Dan pretends to consider this, but of course he’s going to accept, he’s not an idiot. He sends up a silent thanks to whatever god there is that his bathroom has a bathtub big enough to fit the both of them, but maybe he should just thank the designers of this flat. “I guess I can cuddle with you in the bath,” Dan sighs, as if it’s the biggest inconvenience ever.

Laughter bubbles from the older man, who is already getting up and tugging Dan along with him. “Thank you so much for you sacrifice,” he retorts, fond sarcasm coloring his tone.

And sure, maybe some things had changed. Charlie was out of the picture, and Dan and Phil were more than friends now. They both knew where the other stood, and someone it seemed that they were standing in the same place, which Dan figured was a good thing. But at the end of the day, Phil was just the dorky receptionist Dan had fallen in love with all those years ago, and Dan was still just a cocky paper salesman with an affinity for good pranks and cute blue-eyed boys who shared candy with him. So, all in all, not much had changed really.

#phan #phanfiction #phan!theoffice #this is based on phanart that I did not make #fluff #angst #smut #poorly written smut #bed sharing #friends to lovers #best friends #au #drunken kisses #bath cuddling #idk this was a lot more than i expected to write im sorry

[tvmecaps]

1. who is this guy why is he in a fucking nascar 2. WHAT A WEIRD FADE TRANSITION 3. “my background is in racing.” “i love? racing??” 4. emily seems like a gem 5. emily: “where did you come from? 😊” arie: “haha!” 6. if someone said that to me i’d be like 7. idk the limo 8. i wish corinne came back

9. emily: *doesn’t say i love you back* arie: “i just felt, in that moment, that she loved me”

10. chris harrison: “you flew to charlotte” arie: “i flew to charlotte” me: “he flew to charlotte?!” 11. SHE DIDN’T READ THE JOURNAL 12. how embarrassing

13. “i was gone probably 200 days a year, avoiding the pain and heartbreak” imagine having that luxury 14. omg that baby is huge 15. omg I love when the couples are real 16. chris harrison saying arie is the best kisser they’ve had on the show is weird 17. wow a single mom that’s an original take 18. wow a weird amount of realtors 19. “gotta get a boyfriend first” WHA TA WIERD THING TO SAY 20. “i’m jealous one day i’ll find love!!” she says to the bride and groom 21. these girls are so WEIRD 22. SOMETIMES WE GET PEOPLE WITH BULLET WOUNDS 23. is this raven’s friend 24. from weiner 25. “we kind of have to make our own fun” *shoots a gun* 26. AT LEAST HE HAS A JOB 27. I LOVE RAVEN 28. they seem like they’d be sorority sisters 29. KENDALL 30. his tongue is like, so huge

31. WITH TAXIDERMY, I CAN KEEP IT FOREVER 32. if i ever met anyone with a stuffed polar bear I would immediately murder them and go to prison for life 33. I LOVE YOU SEAL 34. WHAT THE FUCK

35. omg another mom 36. oh she’s a nanny 37. “im a mix of gentle and nurturing” babe what’s the difference 38. i hope marikh beats the shit out of kendall

39. coach crystal 40. this is the worst thing i’ve ever seen 41. KRYSTAL WITH A K 42. IT GOT WORSE 43. SHE’S JUST RECORDING HERSELF JUMPING ON THE BEAHC 44. BECAUSE MY BROTHER IS HOMELESS 45. IM SCREAMING 46. aw this is kind of sweet tho 47. if i had to pretend to prance into the ocean while abc productions filmed me i would throw myself into the sand and let the water take me

48. this limo full of bachelor girls < a single cab full of jersey shore girls 49. i wish they had a jersey shore bachelor crossover 50. i wanna see sammi sweetheart on the bachelor 51. chris: “so you’ve tried to fall in love multiple times and haven’t 52. arie: thanks 53. maybe we’ll both be off the market I want to kill myself 54. chelsea’s entire face looks fake 55. but ok 56. sienne is not a name i’m sorry 57. aw the cufflinks 58. i hope she wins and he proposes wearing them 59. i already love tia she’s said 2 words

60. she 61. she got him a little wiener 62. “please tell me 63. you do not already 64. have 65. a little wiener” 66. arie: “I like her”

67. i want to punch chelsea in the face 68. who tf is bibiana 69. “then i think about like oh my god my babies would have blue eyes” 70. bib, do you… do you knwo punnett squares 71. he caught a softball “i’m so impressed with you!” 72. omg the nice butt bumper sticker 73. “i don’t have a very big butt” 74. wow they’re really giving krystal quite the entrance

75. “in this moment we’re ready for the adventure to begin” 76. she has a giant bowtie on her ass 77. ARIE GOES 78. “i needed that”

79. “there have been a lot of girls coming through,” one girl says suspiciously 80. as if she’s never seen the bachelor 81. “BEAUTIFUL. GIRLS.” chelsea says, murder in her eyes

82. LMAO I’M SCREAMING BEKAH PULLED FOF 83. AND ALL I SAW WAS HER HAIR IN THE CONVERTIBLE 84. AND I DEADASS THOUGHT 85. “who is this??? kris jenner??????”

86. i don’t know jenna but i love her 87. is she drunk 88. “and also maybe someone to take over the world with me” i love her

89. imagine someone brought you a rock 90. is she 91. is she gonna make him propose 92. why are they playing star wars music 93. WHO WAS THAT 94. why are there so many laurens 95. DID THEY SEND ALL THE LAURENS OUT IN A ROW 96. “any more and i’d be like, am i on the wrong show? *another lauren comes in 97. chelsea is a psycho 98. “nothing like a good icebreaker talking about all the dicks you’ve seen in your life” 99. ew 100. pit stop joke 101. HEY BABE, WANT TO SMELL MY PITS 102. I LOVE RIHANNA 103. this bitch in a mask 104. of course her name is annaliese

105. “i’m the only one in a costume so far” i miss alexis

106. THE GIRL WHO WAS SPECIFICALLY INTRODUCED TO ONE-UP BEKAH’S CAR ENTRANCE 107. I LOVE THIS BITCH 108. THE SHEER D R A M A

109. “sorry i’m late,” she laughs, CASUALLY STEPPING OUT OF THE RACE CAR

110. “she came in fast and furious, she came in last, maybe that’s how she wants to finish!” omg I HATE this bitch 111. he’s literally a generic handsome man 112. they cannot get over how generically handsome he is 113. she handed him a drink what a kissass 114. nysha i’ve never seen you in my life 115. CHELSEA STOLE HIM LITERALLY FROM THE TOAST 116. I HATE HER 117. i can’t stand this 118. what’s wrong with her face 119. why doesn’t it move

120. i’m the girl who said “where did you get your race car”

121. i’m sorry are they racing toy cars 122. HERS IS SO SLOW LMAOOOO 123. “brittany and him kissed. i don’t know why she’d do that.” i HATE chelsea

124. i’m the drunk girl talking about making people look cool with spas

125. aw i like annaliese 126. “how is the first night going? i would say great” “good so far,” arie corrects 127. chelsea’s gonna fuckin get it isn’t she

128. “can i talk to arie for a second?” “i literally just sat down” “but can i have him?” “i just sat down” “just for a minute” “but i just sat down” THIS ENTIRE EXCHANGE WAS MADE BETWEEN SMILES

129. omg she’s gonna talk to him AGAIN i hate her 130. omg they’re like really kissing 131. i really can’t like arie for this 132. this is so boring i just want to punch chelsea 133. there are too many girls for me to care about anyone who goes home

134. three things that make me excited to be alive? easy, death, dying, and the inevitable murder of donald j trump

135. arie: “excitement” 136. bekah: “excitement makes you excited”

137. CHELSEA 138. FUCK CHELSEA 139. first rose ceremony and the only girls i know are bekah and lauren numbers one through four 140. imagine he calls your name but then another last initial

141. no one will ever top alexis’s “move bitches”

142. thank god bibiana got a rose, honestly 143. fuck chelsea for staying instead of all these bitches 144. i’m both the girls watching the jets makeup through a telescope and the bitch making out with him on a JETSKI 145. I HOPE SOMEONE PUNCHES CHELSEA 146. i can’t wait for beech’s inevitable nervous breakdown 147. SOMEONE’S GOTTA BOYF

#the bachelor #bachelor s22

[5hfanfiction]

Messy - 2 (Lauren Jauregui/Kendall Jenner)

Chapter 2

Lauren deals with the aftermath of Kendall posting a picture together. Kendall stays unbothered and continues to befriend Lauren.

=====================================================

Lauren tried to ignore it, tried to not make a deal out of it.

Her verified mentions are filled with tabloid headlines of the picture of them. Which was ridiculous, because for them to make any kind of story from it is beyond her. What were they supposed to write anyway? Lauren wouldn’t dare click on any of it. Lauren doubts Kendall will comment on it because Lauren is a C-list celebrity, and will do nothing for Kendall’s career.

She gained a lot of followers because of it, in both Instagram and Twitter. She noticed Kendall’s fans are already lurking on her page, liking pictures of her, even those that dated back to last year. She doesn’t even think she can open her Twitter app anymore.

She figures, she’d let it pass.

They will be on Carpool Karaoke in 2 days, and people will forget about this after that.

Dinah greets her as she puts her phone to silent.

“So, Kenren huh?”

“What?”

“Kenren. Kendall and Lauren. It’s kinda hard to miss.”

Great. She turns off her notifications, so universe gives her a live one. This is like trying to get away from A (on PLL).

“Funny.” Lauren deadpans as she maneuvers her way pass Dinah, but Dinah seems to be in the mood to annoy her, quickly tailing her.

“What does it mean hot potato? Is that an inside joke? I’m feeling neglected, Lauren. You’re ignoring me.”

“Lauren” Poke.

“Laurennnn” Poke poke.

“Ralph?” Poke poke

Snap!

“Stop it!”

Lauren glares at Dinah but the younger girl just laughs, clearly amused that she has managed to piss Lauren off again. “It’s nothing, Dinah. I swear!”

“Why would she put you in her story if it’s nothing?”

“Fuck if I know!”

“Lauren, language!”

Lauren winces at Ally’s hush. “Dinah’s been bothering me again.” She says softly.

Dinah raises her hand and continues on tailing Lauren when she moves across the room. “I’m curious. If it’s nothing, why would you be uptight about it?”

“Because!!” Before Lauren can stop it, she’s on a roll, “It IS nothing! You wouldn’t shut up about it, just because I didn’t say anything juicy when there is really NOTHING else to say!” It’s the same story all over again.

She’s gay. She denies it, people kept insisting she still is gay.

Camren. She denies it, people kept saying she’s hiding it.

She comes out. People think’s it’s public stunt.

She breaks up with her girlfriend.

She dates someone else.

She breaks up with her boyfriend.

It doesn’t matter what the issue is. She says something, and people will ignore what she says because it’s not what they want to hear.

“Okay… What crawled up in your ass and died?” Dinah murmurs as she backs away slowly.

She wouldn’t wish her misfortune on her bandmates. No. Never. But she wishes people would stop focusing on her and attacking her just because they have nothing to talk about.

She sighs, “We were talking. Nothing of significance. Until she asked to take a picture. Because we found it funny that we run across each other at events but never spoken more than one or two words to each other. And then I told her I looked like a potato. Because I was surrounded with skinny attractive people. And I don’t know… I felt… it felt like it. And then she said that it wasn’t the case. We took a picture. That’s it.”

Unspoken apology.

Dinah just giggles and pinches Lauren’s cheeks. “Now is that so hard to say?”

Lauren sighs in relief but quickly pushes Dinah away, but to no avail, Dinah was stuck with her. “Ally!!!”

When all else fail, call for Ally.

Ally on a distance just sighs and massages her temple, “Lord Almighty, what did I ever do to be stuck with these kids?”

============================================================

They were on Carpool Karaoke, finally. And they were jamming to their songs, from Work From Home to Me and My Girls.

He asked about Kendall. ‘Cause it would be foolish to pass up the opportunity to ask to. “So you looked like a potato… I don’t… I don’t understand?”

Lauren looks out the window as she hums to, ‘Don’t Say You Love Me’ softly, before answering, “It’s an expression.”

“I know… but I… I look like a potato. I mean, I’m a cute potato. You’re—”

“—a hot potato” Dinah finishes, then Ally and Normani joins her laughing.

Somewhat, she’s thankful Dinah’s coming to her aid. She just doesn’t understand the deal with this.

Without thinking, Lauren says, “Well we could be potatoes together, if you want.”

Silence.

James gasps, and cries, “Lauren Jauregui, stop flirting with me!”

The car erupted with laughter.

There wasn’t any awkward moment on the whole trip.

They talked about other songs they like.

Places they’d like to visit more.

The funny story on Normani and her cream pie.

Dinah driving. (Because apparently, when James asked who was the worst driver, and they all said probably Dinah, and Dinah, of course, denied it. So to finally prove this accusation wrong, James decided to let Dinah drive)

It was okay.

They’re surviving, even though Dinah occasionally speeds up with no apparent reason. Or comes too close to other cars. Or casually takes her eyes off the road to join in on conversations.

When you ask Lauren what would her expectations be in Carpool Karaoke, she DID NOT envision this.

The topic of the bet comes, and Lauren doesn’t know how on Earth it came to that.

She doesn’t remember who mentioned it, but Ally and Normani were sandwiching James at the back of the car, which to Lauren actually looked like an angel and a devil whispering things to him, and then the topic just came up.

“Wait, so how much money are we talking about?” Normani whispers to James, and Lauren rolls her eyes at the dramatics. It’s only a hundred bucks per person.

So they were consoling Lauren, after her break up. And Dinah, to make things lightly said that Lauren is a champ and she’d definitely be back up her game a few months later.

Normani, probably, with a bit of alcohol in her system, or just humoring Dinah said they should bet on it.

And so they did.

Normani said, she’d date in 4 months… which is about now, so probably why she even mentioned it… forgetting that they’re on camera. She just hopes they cut this out.

Dinah, doubles Normani’s bet, and said, it’ll take at least 8 months, because they’d be going on tour soon.

And Ally supports Lauren’s claim, that Lauren would at least be single for a year.

And it was all fun and games… until they next day, Dinah did not forget. Because she wasn’t drunk.

And she was telling their friends because she finds it funny.

Every time Dinah mentions how Lauren vows she’d be single for a year, they ALL laugh, in which Lauren frowns.

On the next rehearsal, Dinah tells Sean, who in return places his bet to 6 months. Later that day, their manager, lawyer, driver, stylist were already on the roll.

“Why don’t you just tweet about it?” Lauren says as she drags Dinah away from their crew before she can even open her mouth.

“You guys, when I win—”

“if!”

Lauren ignored Normani and continues, “WHEN I win, I will take all your coins, take Ally out, we’ll have so much fun you all would be jealous!”

Normani and Dinah snorts while simultaneously saying, “Okay, Lauren.”

“Oh please. When I win, you will never hear the end of it.” Dinah adds

James joins in, “Okay I wanna say, in 9 months. But how do I know when somebody wins?”

“Oh you’ll know. Girl can’t keep it a secret when she’s dating someone.”

If Dinah wasn’t on the steering wheel, Lauren’d definitely slap her in the face.

===========================================================

“Wow. I’m gonna pretend you did not sound so repulsed by the idea of dating me.”

They’re hanging out at Lauren’s place.

Which isn’t weird.

Because now, they’re sort of friends?

And they went out to have lunch that one time when they’re both in LA.

And there were paparazzi everywhere, and Lauren is convinced they have a tracker on Kendall. So now, she’s more cautious hanging out with her.

And now they’re stuck at her place because she doesn’t want people making up stories about them.

Because Kendall is actually sweet, and fun to be with. And yeah, she’s kinda cool, so Lauren doesn’t really mind the new company.

But she does mind the shippers threatening to harass her every time they hang out together.

Not when people knew she’s for sure single and her friends bet on when she’ll be dating again. Not when it’s creating a buzz so their team is encouraging it. Not when drama follows Kendall five times than it follows her.

Lauren just laughs as she takes a picture of Kendall and Leo playing on her couch. She learns that Kendall is really great with dogs, and she’s teaching Leo how to play fetch. “It’s not that. It’s just that people tend to make a big deal out of nothing. It’s like I can’t be just friends with anyone.”

“I know. There was a point, people thought I was dating this dude I don’t even talk to.” Kendall said as she throws the ball. She smiles when Leo goes after it, but frowns when he didn’t pick up the ball but just lies next to it.

“Yeah, and girls count on me too. Aftermath of coming out.” Lauren can laugh at it now. She watches as Kendall waves the treat she brought in front of Leo. Leo looks up to it, tilting his head. He’s so cute, Lauren’s heart is melting.

“Don’t I know it? People thinks I’m gay just because I’m tomboy. Or that I spend too much time with my girlfriends. Or any other things I just choose to ignore. That every time I got out with someone, it’s actually to beard.” Slowly Leo grabs the ball and put it in front of Kendall. At this Kendall pumps her hands to the air and gives the treat to Leo.

“Well, what’s hotter than two attractive girls making out, right?” Lauren says casually as she scrolls through her phone. She laughs softly at the snapchat of her friends back at Miami. God, she misses them.

Before Lauren knows what’s happening, she feels Kendall’s lips on her cheeks. She looks at Kendall in confusion, “Wha–?”

Kendall takes a quick snap of her kissing Lauren’s cheek, while Lauren smiles at her phone, then slowly looking up. She laughs as she types in, ‘petition for a potato emoji’, then adding it to her story.

“What’s the worse that can happen, right?”

Lauren contemplates on answering.

Well there’s queerbaiting.

And people thinking their cooking something.

But Leo probably just learned how to play fetch.

Fuck it.

#UPDATE #series #non AU #requested #family #humour #romance fluff #submission #Messy