#i couldnt go outside my apartment without glasses or contacts
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Little Prince (Pt.1)
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Roman Marrell was a man of class and sophistication. From the way he pinned his crimson hair to the way he stood in things from three-piece suits to floor length ballgown, no one could question that the singer held himself in high regards.
Or at least that's what it seemed to the outsiders. Roman was an incredible actor, but even actors had to break character at some point. There was only one person who Roman could count on not to ruin his life, one person who'd seen Roman with mascara trailing down his face, held him at night when he had nightmares and his face was swimming with so many tears he couldnt see where he was. His brother, Remus Marrell.
Quite the opposite of Roman, Remus looked like the kind of man you'd find looting trash bins for extra cash; loose ties, wrinkled suits, messy brown hair with a white streak he'd had since birth. The twins had two physical compliments to each other, the first was a matching birthmark on each of their hips, both in the shape of one half of a heart. The second, Roman's emerald eyes, and Remus' stunning ruby ones.
Roman may have had a successful career and may have been held higher up by the public. But Remus had something that Roman thought was much more special. Remus had his husband, Virgil Clove. Roman had always wanted a relationship, ever since he was a kid, but every boy he tried to talk to ran from him. Now that he was famous it was easier for boys to fawn over him, but now he knew they only wanted him for his looks, his money, they didnt want to listen to him talk. They wanted a pretty little husband to sit around and sing songs and cook for them while they lounged on the couch spending money on cars and beer.
Roman didnt want that, he wanted something real, he wanted someone who would treat him like a prince instead of a pretty face. But he knew that was reaching to far, for him to reach that level he'd have to have an emotional connection with someone, and he wasnt sure he could fathom something as intimate as that.
"Roman! You're on in five!" Roman looked at himself in the mirror, there he was, dressed in the most stunning of dresses with more sequins and glitter than one man would need in a life time, gold and red eyeshadow that contrasted so well with the green in his eyes, and matched perfectly with the red lipstick he wore. Then there was his tiara, it was large and gold and covered with jewels, but it didnt make him feel like a prince. No, it made him feel like a naive narcissistic fool.
Roman stood up, straightening his clothes before he took to the stage. He was met with whistles and cheers and comments that would make even Remus' stomach churn, whether with rage or disgust, Roman didnt want to know.
Then his eyes locked on someone he didnt recognize, someone new. The man was tall, muscular, with round black glasses and shining blue eyes like he'd stolen them from the ocean itself. His brown hair was a mess of curls, seemingly controlled only by a few bobby pins and hair clips. His lips were parted in a smile, a smile that sent Roman's fragile little heart pounding like rain on a window.
Roman tried his best to keep his eyes on the walls, he didnt like to make eye contact with costumers, it distracted him from his music. But something about this boy made him feel calmer, caused the sounds of everyone else in the crowd to melt into the abyss.
Roman had managed to get through about half of his performance without a single slip up, but rather than forget the lyrics to a song, Roman's performance was cut short but a round of gunfire. Roman ducked under the nearest table, his chest tightened, he felt like he was going numb.
Then he felt an arm around his waist, a strong one. He felt himself lifted off the ground and held close to someone, almost like a porcelain doll that might shatter if it were to be dropped.
Roman didnt know where he was going, but he couldnt seem to muster the words to ask. Soon enough, though, he was set down on the steps of a large building. He turned to face his rescuer, only to be met with those same striking blue eyes.
"You. . . Saved me?" Roman asked, he hadnt meant to sound disappointed, but there was concern etched in the man's face.
"Of course I did, what happened there was in no way meant to harm you, it was a retaliation and it wont be happening again," said the man. He reached up to knock on the door. Another man opened it, this one with brown eyes that looked almost gold, and a nasty looking burn on one side of his face.
"Jay, there's been an attack on the Butterfly Lounge, I'm not sure who did it but I know it can't have ended well," said the man with blue eyes.
Jay paused for a moment, looking over at Roman, Roman felt his insides squirming. "And who's this?" Jay said, his voice almost like a snake's hiss.
"The singer, Roman, I rescued him," said the man, a faint blush coated his face.
"Lo, you are to much of a softie for your own good," Jay spoke in a joking manner, moving out of the doorway and beckoning the two inside.
The inside of the house was elaborate and large, the walls seemed to have been painted over from black to much lighter shades of blue and gray.
"Please, have a seat, I'll have my husband get something for you," Jay said, gesturing Roman toward one of the large chairs in the main room. Roman sat down in the one that looked softest, melting into the fabric as though hoping it would absorb him entirely. Lo sat across from him, pressing his thumbs together as though he were thinking of what to say.
"I'm sorry, all of thus must be very confusing for you," he stated finally.
"Oh not at all, I understand I've been kidnapped by the mafia and most likely I'm going to be held for a random my parents will never pay and my brother wont be able to afford," Roman said. He wasnt entirely sure why, after all, no one had acted like this was a kidnapping since they'd left the lounge.
Lo sat there for a moment, clearly taken aback. "No no no no- that's the exact opposite of the point, see, it was our rivals that attacked the lounge, I merely wanted to ensure your safety, you'll be returned straight home once you've had a chance to relax, whatever that entails in your opinion," he said, a small smile appearing on his round face.
A few minutes later another boy rushed into the room with two plates. He was short, though he had a similar stature to Lo, and the same round glasses with clear frames, he was dressed in a light blue sweater and a short white skirt, both garments seeming to accentuate his hips.
"Terribly sorry about the wait, are you alright- Roman?" He asked as he shoved a tray over to him with the plate placed on it.
"Im- fine I suppose," Roman replied.
"This is Patton, Jay's husband, he mostly stays here and looks after the house," said Lo. Roman felt his stomach drop.
Patton's eyes widened slightly "oh no it's not like I'm doing this unwillingly, Janus asks me every time he goes out if I'd like to tag along, but I'm just not comfortable with his type of work," Patton said. Roman relaxed slightly.
It took a few hours, a nice warm bath, and a change of clothes for Roman to feel safe enough to go back home, Logan had promised to escort him, and now here they were in his bedroom. He'd allowed Roman to borrow one of his sweaters despite it being not only to long for him, but about two sizes to big. Roman didnt mind, it felt nice, and as long as he had shorts on it wasnt like it was going to do much.
When they finally got back to Roman's apartment, and Roman was finally able to get to a phone, he had a lot of things to explain to his brother. But first, he had to say goodbye.
"Thank you again, for saving me back there," Roman said, one hand resting on the doorframe, the other hugging the sweater closer to his body.
"It was my pleasure, little prince," said Logan, and without another word, he disappeared into his car, and down the street.
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Tag list:
@nerosdayinhell
@melodiread
@thefivecalls
@meowthefluffy
@boobmaster69
@spooky-scary-virgil
@youtuberswithalex
@thecolorfulolive
#cori writes#long post#mafia au#ts patton#ts logan#ts remus#ts virgil#ts sides#ts janus#ts roman#logince#romantic logince#dukexiety#romantic dukexiety#moceit#romantic moceit#gun tw#tw gun#gun mention tw#tw gun mention#tw violence#violence tw
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Knight! Dark part two
Continuation of:
https://bowtied-pasta.tumblr.com/post/622135337758720001/im-craving-a-bit-more-of-dark-link-as-a-knight
You smile as the dog you two had found and taken in as your own ran into the room you were currently lounging in. The furniture you had actually managed to purchase, and not steal thank you, plush and relaxing after the day you had.
You reach your hand down to pet the eager animal, the attention making the pup wag its tail in the joy of being recognized. “Is this my hint to feed you? Did the Big Bad Knight not feed you before he went out today?”
The dog obviously gives no response other than tilting its head into your touch, you sigh before standing and heading to the kitchen. Not having to go very far as the cottage, if you could even call something so large a cottage, was not difficult to traverse from room to room. Getting to the second floor was the tricky part, near impossible if you didnt know where the right things were to trigger that secret staircase hidden in the wall.
You go about making your pet a bowl of food, his tail wagging as he picks up the scent of the food you are preparing for him. Your good mood only ruined by the sight outside of your window.
You gasp and duck out of sight, crouching to the floor as you panic over what to do. The guard had found you. But how? You dont recall ever being followed. Nobody you had met while having been free was even aware of your lineage. That doesnt matter, how are you going to escape?
You grab your dog and pull them closer to you, huddling underneath the window frame as you think over what you could do. You could go upstairs, but then what if they somehow manage to find the stairs? You would end up cornered with nowhere to go but jumping. You could stay where you are and hope Dark came back in time, but you couldnt rely on that slim possibility.
You hear voices growing louder from outside, you begin to shake as you know theres nothing to be done any more. Your slim window of opportunity was shut. You had to stay where you were and hope they didnt get too nosy. Only to grip your dog to your chest and make a break for the stair triggers as you hear a noise at the window you were directly under.
You hear glass break after leaving the kitchen, the yelling of men from the outside getting louder as the barrier between them and you was broken. You hit trigger one as you keep running, nearly missing trigger two and almost dropping the dog at trigger three. Gasping for air as the stairs make themselves present and you haul ass to the top, hitting trigger four and hiding the entrance to the stairs once more.
You tiptoe your way as silently as you can to the room furthest from the stairs as you can get. Hugging the dog to your chest as you silently cry. You dont want to go back. You dont want to be taken back. You were happy here. Why did they have to find you?
You sit silently, your pet oddly stoic and on point. Watching the entrance to the room you were currently hiding in as if it was its sworn duty. You hear the sound of clashing and things breaking downstairs. Growing slightly peeved as the things you took time to collect with your love are torn apart without you being able to do anything.
You hear sounds of intense fighting from outside, men yelling and swords clashing against swords. The noise caused you to uncurl from your tight hold on your dog, silently moving so that you could peer out the window at what was causing so much noise.
Your mouth falls open as your eyes fall upon the sight of Dark practically plowing his way through the guard. The grass in the front of your little cottage seemingly soaked in the blood of the guard that had come to retrieve you. His eyes glanced up to spare you but a moments notice before he carried on in his wave of carnage. You could see the red glow from here. Inhuman. Not normal.
You didnt have much time to process, however, as you hear the sound of the stair passage open and the sound of men, numbers unknown, coming up and yelling out search commands. You whip your head around in search of your dog, wanting to keep him safe, only to find him on guard at the door. Stance wide as his hackles raise with the sound of men growing closer.
You startle backwards. Your dog had never acted like this... you wonder if he was reacting this way just because you were scared? Only for your question to be answered as a man steps in front of the animal.
Your once small and fluffy baby boy begins ti transform before your eyes, fur turning a midnight black and growing in size so that it was now at your waist. You back yourself into the corner of the room, shock overtaking you as the dog charges the guard in the doorway, his maw closing around his waist and you dont follow to watch as it takes care of all the men that it can get to.
You stand there, eyes never leaving the doorway as you hear the volume level get lower and lower as more and more men meet their end. Either by demon dog, or demon knight. You slide down to the floor, back against the wall as you hug your arms around yourself. Shivering as you stare at the puddle of blood that was seeping into the room you were in.
It became silent. The dog not having returned from his carnage. You didnt hear any steps. You didnt hear any floor boards. But you saw as Dark, glowing eyes and covered in the blood of his victory, as he stepped into the room.
He approached you silently, allowing you to make a move before he did. But you stayed still, letting him approach as he pleased. He stops in front of you, letting his sword drop to the side as he crouches to your level. His eyes sweeping over your form as he reaches a hand to your face, lifting it for inspection as he searches you over for injury. “None of them touched you, correct?”
You sniffle before nodding quickly, eyes misting over as you finally begin to process what all just happened. You hear him sigh, his features blurred as his hand drops from your chin. “Im sorry you had to find out this way. I know I must be scary-“
You cut him off by jumping at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you begin to cry. “I was so scared. They were so close to taking me back. I dont ever want to go back. Please. Please dont let them ever take me back there.”
He stiffens for a moment before falling into the embrace, chuckling a bit without humor as he wraps one arm around your waist and the other running his fingers through your hair. “And here I though you would be afraid of me.”
You furrow your brows as you hear his words, “Never.”
You feel him smile above you, his face buried in your hair. “Never?”
You place a hand against his chest, causing him to move back slightly so that you could make eye contact. You gaze into his eyes, still glowing red and bright as your lips softly lift into a smile. “Never.”
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Heres a wip of a sequel.
Dmviolence, by jade
Hello, if youre hearing this, it probably means im dead. Either that, or im alive and just got tired of keeping this hidden. You might remember my voice from a previous recording about a takeover in sector ⬽:➻, in which id helped prevent total annihilation of the sector. At the time i was unnamed, however now you may call me Kalton. After the takeover i resigned and moved to a job at a dmv. This planet was, for some reason, in one of the most tactically advantageous locations in the galaxy. And for some reason the higher ups dedicated the whole damn planet to dmvs. Dont ask why. Now, onto the story.
I woke up, and i put on my emerald green contact lenses. Just like any other day. I put on a basic white t-shirt and a leather bomber jacket along with a pair of jean shorts. If you cant tell by now, im gay.
I live in a small apartment. By small apartment i mean a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchen all crammed into 2 rooms. I hopped out the bedroom window onto my motorcycle. It was a diamond white motorcycle with deep red stripes along the sides and the handlebars. My pride and joy. I put on my jet black helmet and took off towards my job at the, you guessed it, dmv.
Chapter 2
I pulled up in the parking lot and took off my helmet, my blue hair a total rats nest. The doors were push doors, yet i somehow ALWAYS pulled first. I entered the dmv and went to my station. A few hours passed by and no one had come in yet, which was unusual. So naturally i decided to sit down on the floor, put in my earbuds, and enjoyed some heavy metal. A few more hours passed by, and usually by now i wouldve been yelled at by my boss. This struck me as odd so i stood up. I really wish i hadnt stood up. The place had been completely destroyed. There were drop pods crashed in through the roof and they all had the ERGON logo on them. Ergon was a multi trillion dollar pencil manufacturing company with its own military. They had previously tried to take over sector ⬽:➻ when i had been working there. I was not looking forwards to what was about to happen.
Quickly, i ducked back onto the floor before anyone saw me. There were 4 riot soldiers holding this building. This was gonna be fun. The riot soldiers are your stereotypical riot gear and police baton soldiers. But these guys had laser batons and the riot gear gave them heightened strength and speed. They also had some, dare I say, shitty energy pistols. I crawled over to one of the soldiers who wasnt being watched and broke their neck. Carefully I took the baton and the pistol. Slowly crawled my way back to my station and checked the shot count in the pistol. I had 6 shots, just enough to take care of the remaining three soldiers. I stood up quickly and shot each soldier twice in the head. First shot to open the riot helmet, second shot to kill. I vaulted over the counter and grabbed the three pistols. These things were so stupid. You couldnt even remove the clips. Once you ran out of shots, the pistol was useless. Nonetheless, i didnt have any choice. I had a laser baton and 18 total shots in 3 pistols.
Upon leaving the building, my motorcycle was one of the few things to survive. It had alot of scratches and damage, but it still worked. The helmet was shattered however. I mounted the motorcycle and took off towards the next closest dmv. Maybe id find some better gear there.
Chapter 3
Pulling up next to the second dmv i immediately noticed 3 things. 1: there was blood everywhere. 2: there were 25 soldiers here. And 3: they all had energy weapons. The reason these things are relevant is because energy weapons dont cause bloodshed. This was the result of something else. Something new i hadnt dealt with yet.
I drove up and ran over 5 of the soldiers. This was probably an incredibly bad idea, seeing as i had 18 shots, enough for 9 kills, and there were 20 soldiers left. Every single soldier turned to me and i, being the absolute genius that i am, welded the front of one of the pistols shut with the laser baton, shot it off, and threw it into thei crowd of soldiers. It exploded, releasing a shockwave of energy and disabling the soldiers. I then used the baton to cut through the riot gear and kill the soldiers. I felt like a badass. That is until a mechanical looking wolf jumped at me and started trying to rip my face off.
The wolf was a frostwolf, except it had been placed into a mechanical frame and its teeth and claws had been replaced with lasers. I tried to bash it off of me with the baton but it just bit it in two. This gave me just enough time to grab an energy pistol and shoot the wolf. It kept trying to kill me amd i wasted a whole clip on it until suddenly, the dog started to levitate in the air and got thrown aside into a wall. I got up and was instantly frozen in place. Thats when.. she walked up.
Chapter 4
The she i am reffering to is ebony. A goth/punk wannabe with light blue tear shaped eyes and black hair with purple streaks. Shes a bitch whos mind got too powerful and now she can move things without touching them. Shes been chasing me for months. Not in a murderous way. Shes just obsessed with me. Ive tried to tell her im gay but she wont listen. And now im at her mercy.
She walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I hated it. She looked as if she was contemplating whether or not to free me when a pod came down from the sky and crushed her. Thank god. But i honestly wouldve rathered suffered at her hand than deal with what i had to deal with next...
Out of the pod came the warden. The goddamn warden from sector ⬽:➻. Last id seen him hed been in the same situation as ebony. Crushed to death under a pod. But this time, instead of being on my side, he was here to kill me. He was huge. Like seriously huge. He was at least 8 feet tall and shaped like gaston. Whos gaston? Nobody knows these days. But its basically a way to say "extremely buff and wide". Back to the story. The warden wasnt looking very good, considering the rotten skin, obviously quickly patched together face, and muscles hanging loose out of his skin. His rotting ruined body was held together by an exoskeleton of chromium-tungsten alloy. Nothing i had was gonna cut through that. I was gonna have to get creative here..
The warden had 2 weapons, both of them were his fists. Huge gauntlets that were each about the size of a cow. Definitely bigger than his previous set. They were a golden green metal i couldnt identify. But i didnt want to get hit with one to try and find out. I ran. I ran as fast i could run into the dmv and hid. I could hear the wardens footsteps. It was as if a small earthquake happened each time he took a step.
I peeked over the desk i was hiding behind and saw him punch through the 2 desks opposite to me. It took no effort and i couldve sworn i saw him smile. Obviously i didnt. Cause he didnt have a mouth anymore. But if he did, he definitely wouldve smiled. I took a shot to get his attention and ran off towards the wall. The warden was definitely faster than i expected.
Luckily i managed to dodge the blow by a centimeter. The metal smelled of decaying flesh and popcorn. The wardens blow punched a huge hole in the wall. I hope you see where im going with this.
I ran off to another wall and we repeated this same process a number of times until the building was barely still up. I ran out the doors and threw the baton at the last of the supports, cutting through it and causing the building to collapse in on the warden. He wasnt getting out of that. I decided to search the rubble to see if i could find anything worth taking. I found a new baton, a flame rifle and a few more energy pistols.
The flame rifle was a very interesting design. The sides were painted jet black with flame decals scattered about. You could feel the heat on the inside and it made the gun warm to the touch. Comfortable to hold. Other than that though, it looked like an old fashioned 8.59mm sniper rifle. It had 4 shots remaining, so id have to use it sparingly.
I grabbed some scrap materials out of the rubble to make a holster for it and put it on my back.
The energy pistols just dangled from a keychain. The baton was simply turned off and placed through a hole in the back pockets of my shorts. I ran to my motorcycle and drove off, i needed to find out more. I had questions, and i had a sneaking suspicion that i knew where to find the answers.
I drove off again, i was dirty and there was blood on me and my bike. I probably looked like a serial killer. But i knew that if anyone was still alive, itd be jayden. They were.. well. They were a vampire. They lived in a swampland area and wore sparkly rainbow shirts and a huge sunhat. The sunhat allowed them to go outside in the sun, and they only drank coconut water. They also had a crazy amount of weaponry and used to work at ergon, before being fired for stealing weaponry. By the way, if you havent noticed by now, im using they/them to refer to jayden. Jayden doesnt have a gender. Jayden.. is kind of my crush. It probably has something to do with the fact that theyre the only person on this planet who talks to me. Other than ebony.. but ebony is... not my type i guess. Anyways, back to jayden. Jayden was on the roof of their swamp shack drinking coconut water out of a wine glass. I yelled up at them and they fell off the roof onto my back. I guess i cushioned their fall. Jayden immediately said "What do you need dear" without waiting for me to stand up, and shattered the wine glass. I informed them of the situation and asked the questions i had. Things like "what are the ergon soldiers defences like on their ships" and "how did they reanimate the warden" they had answers.
Jayden told me about the new security measures that had been put in place since id last been on an ergon ship. There was now a code for each teleportation pod and the gaurds had doubled. As for the warden, it turns out jayden was actually the first test run in reanimation sciences, and couldnt answer me because they had been unconcious in a lab when the warden was reanimated. That explained the vampire undead thing. Jayden invited me into the shack where they pulled a nail out of the floorboards and it turned into a ramp to the basement. Down in the basement? Thats where jayden kept their weapons they stole. And boy oh boy were there some interesting ones.
One that immediately caught my attention was the big rocket launcher. It had 3 barrels and each was a different colour, indicating a different effect. One was red, one was yellow, and one was green. The red barrel fired a normal explosive rocket, the yellow barrel fired an electromagnetic pulse rocket, and the green barrel fired an acidic explosive. And the launcher shrunk down to the size of an energy pistol when a button was pressed. It gathered up dirt and dust and garbage around it from the back to quickly convert into ammo but the only downside is that it would be difficult to use more than once in an area.
Jayden picked out an old shotgun. At first i didnt understand why, but then they loaded the clip. The clip was a huge drum that loaded in the bottom of the barrel. The drum was see through and inside you could see sawblades lined up side by side. When they pumped the shotgun a blade got lifted into a slot between the 2 shotgun barrels and started glowing red. When the trigger was pulled, the blade spun at high speeds and fired out of the slot, spinning along the ground like a wheel. It could cut through anything a baton could cut through and seemed to almost follow its target. The gun itself looked like an DP-12, except behind the pump, a large clear drum full of sawblades was in place. The blade sat between the barrels in place of the iron sights and got heated up by an electrical circut.
I also took a laser sword instead of my baton, it was just like the one that [3825968] had, except this one was about an inch longer. The final weapon i took was an acid thrower. It was basically just a watergun with acid in it. Ive always been partial to acidic weapons. If youve heard my other story, youd know why..
Jayden also took a submachine gun that fired freezing rounds. The rounds were essentially glorified waterballoons with liquid nitrogen in them. Though the rounds were bullet sized, enough shots from it would certainly freeze you in place. The freeze gun was about the size of the average human head, and was painted navy blue with blue saphire stripes placed along it. We both left the shack, me with my sword and jayden with a wine glass. We were ready to kick ass and put a stop to this.
We left and immediately both got flung into some trees. Guess who it was. It was ebony. Her body had been found and reanimated. I was starting to see a pattern. And now we had to fight the telekinetic who could kill us with a wave of her hand.
She was levitating. Her eyes were glowing red and her hair was floating in the air. She had a smile of someone about to rip your arms off and beat you with them. I tried to take a shot at her but my hand got knocked aside by an invisible force. So i tried the next best thing. Seduction. Fake seduction. Hopefully the whole dying and coming back from the dead thing didnt make her stop being weirdly obsessed with me.
While i faked surrender and complimented ebony and attempted to seduce her, jayden took aim of their ice gun and shot a burst at ebonys right arm. The arm froze in place and shattered. Hopefully that would lower the strength of her telekinetic abilities. It did. But only by about half. Which meant jayden got thrown into the air as i tried to discreetly unholster my acid gun. It wasnt discreet enough and the gun was knocked from my hand.
The gun flew forwards and the impact of hitting the ground set it off for a second, just enough to spray an acidic burn through her arm. Incapacitating her. Jayden ended up sneaking up behind her and impaling her through the skull with the shattered end of their wine glass. Finally ebony was dead for good.
The acid gun was busted, so we had to leave it behind. We got onto my motorcycle and took off towards my apartment building. We would need food if we were going to be traveling. An apartment complex would probably be full of foods, and alot of dead people who wouldnt care if we took some stuff.
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story vomit
-hong kong runaway idea
reality in mental hospital?
mr robot
perfect blue
-blue hour love
"i wanna be scary"
heart break
shaves eyebrows
red lipstick
black panther for asians
space?
dreamjng of home
story about learning to let go and putting yourself first
story about choosing happiness, prolonged misery
JYN AND CASSIAN IMMORTALS
her fingers ruffled through soft locks of his hair, and her heart swelled. it was too little and too much all at once, after all the years apart, how could she have ever doubted wanting to be by his side again? Now that he was in her arms the certainty seemed to settle into an unshakable truth, that she and he were meant to return to each other, circling each other, standing by the other's side no matter the circumstances of the rest of the foolish world.
the girl from before, who only knew of solitude, of running, looking over shoulder at every turned would have thought this new certainty unthinkable. it might have terrified her or disgusted her, but the Jyn of now was a different woman.
his eyes caught her transfixed gaze and crinkled with a smile she knew better than her own. no words needed to break the cozy silence for the understanding to pass between them. there was nothing she wanted more than to crush his body to hers, to hold him gently and never let go again but the feeling overwhelmed her and she could only continue to cradle his head in her lap, stroking a finger down the jawline she loved. mine. mine. her heart said, touching a body that was not her own, this skin which would pierce me to be bruised, these bones which would shatter her to be broken.
hours later, after many hushed words had passed between them, describing in few short words the many hard years that had passed for each of them, as the sky began to flush lilac with the rising sun, they broke apart with much hesitance. after several failed attempts on cassian's part to urge her to the fresher for a much needed shower, she finally relented breaking the connecting touch betwen them. jyn couldnt contain the tiniest childish pout. how could she miss holding him within seconds of relinquishing the contact? annoyed at feeling like a childish teenager but still petulant to let go.
"go!" urged cassian, his eyes crinkling with a grin, and then, of course how she resist grabbing his smiling face again and kissing those grinning lips.
cassians arms could not help but to circle around her waist but of course he was the one with the greater self restraint and he withdrew them after a few moments, pushing her gently towards the fresher door.
under the hot satisfying spray Jyn allower herself the luxury of a quick moment to just enjoy the comforts of a life not based on the next meal, next job, and the overhanging urgency of survival, before she got to work scrubbing off the unholy layers of grime on her body. as she lathered suds into her hair, the fresher door clicked open with a soft hiss, and she peered through the fogged shower door at cassian, who of course smiled at her again, and she marveled at the ease of his surrending unlimited smiles for her when he was a man of few smiles for the rest of the universe. and with that her traitorous heart was off again, squeezing with the overwhelming painful joy of having him by her side again.
cassian rinsed his toothbrush, finished with brushing his teeth. with a mischievous grin he peeled of his under shirt and dropped his trousers to the floor. steam poured out of the fresher as he slipped in beside her, putting his rough hands on the soft slick skin of her waist. jyn hooked her arms around his neck and tiptoed up to kiss him, soft sweet and slow, and they stood under the spray, feeling each other up like teenagers until suddenly Jyn shrieked.
"Ah! Sorry, sorry, the boiler tank is small, I've been wanting to install a bigger one-"
Jyn laughed despite the freezing spray erasing her comfortable warmth by the second.
"get out you horn dog i still have to rinse out my hair"
one of them gets executed but comes back to life
cassian? comes back to find jyn and their child
//
cassian as a fire breathing bar tender
modern au where they're divorced
drug cartel AU krennic and galen in the cia/dea
jyn smuggles or deals arms or something
cassian is an undercover DEA agent
cassian riding a horse, wearing a cowboy hat, smoking
patron notices cassian is into jyn and 'gives' her to him
"you're a lucky guy"
thats just a nice way to say i want to fuck your girl
jyn if you do this i can't protect you
ive known these guys my whole life and you think you can get into this game for a couple months and i need you to protect me from them
i dont mean from them
cassian joserra jerome antonio anglés andrez
after they settle down:
oh where did you guys meet
jyn: tinder
//
divorced soulmates
when they meet jyn can tell its something special. she's been around the block enough to know that this one wasn't for messing around, that they meant too much to each other. cassian tamed her and she brought him to life and his friends were all supportive of course, relieved he had found some joy at last, that he finally had a reason to leave the office without putting in overtime more days of the week than not, a reason for brief smiles to stsrt escaping his serious outward demeanor. all they saw was cassian hiding a smile in a tumblr of mezcal st the bar with them, watching jyn dance with han and kes, twirling around them with smooth confidence as they tried not to trip on their own feet. how could it be anything but good?
jyn knows cassian would never hurt her on purpose so she lets herself fall too easily, then slowly her life revolved around him. he occupied her throughts, her space, and she became nothing more than a part of cassian, his wife, as honoured and respectable as the role was she became suffocated with being introduced as his wife, people telling her what a great man her husband was, and she became defined by him, strangers assuming insight of her.
when she leaves she finds herself all alone, realising all the friends she had were gifted to her by cassian, and the thought infuriates her. not at cassian, never at cassian, but at her past self for allowing this to happen, blind to painfully learned lessons to always have an escape route in sight, to rely on herself first and foremost.
when she leaves, the pain is unbearable. she cries and she cries herself to sleep, and when she wakes up she's temporarily soothed her mind betraying her with the false sense that all the pain was just a bad dream and she would roll over and see cassian there, soft and warm and comforting and ready to hold her close and kiss the nightmare away. but the realisation came quick and she would be sobbing again. in the end it was only her stubborn pride that saved her the indignity of crawling back to him on her knees begging. or maybe it was the stone pit on her stomach that said you did this. you hurt him like this, and for what? how can you deserve to try and salvage what was perfectly good before you picked it up and smashed it on the ground just to see how the splinters would fall?
when the fog of misery starts to fade though, she is relieved. even as she sits in her crappy, hole in the wall apartment, eating left over pizza for a undignified amount of times in a month, she is so relieved to be free. even if the AC keeps crapping out and she's sweating in February and bodhi has been the only other person to visit her apartment she is so relieved. her thoughts were her own again and she was so happy she could cry
"jyn you will always be my family. you know that right?" she doesn't deserve it
cassian walking barefoot in the shore wash at blue hour
this pain wasn't unbearable but it was a unique brand of torturous. knowing exactly what she wanted was right in front of her, seeing it, touching it in soft polite embraces that lingered just on the dangerous end of perfunctory hellos and goodbyes. she's already had a taste of exactly everything she wants (not needs, not anymore, and that made the pain tolerable but a new unique brand of torturous), and she couldn't have it. she threw it all away. no regrets could be had, she would have never made it here without giving it up, but it certainly didnt help when they sat on the opposite ends of the friends spanning a bar counter and her attention still strayed from whatever kes was talking about to start at his lips, soft from worrying at the glass tumbler in his hand, hearing the memory of the laugh she only watched escape from him in real life as it was lost in the din of the bar.
"i forgave you for literally tearing my heart apart the first time, but as much of a masochist as i am, I can't give you permission to do it again. so what is it jyn?"
"come on jyn. it doesn't take an idiot to see how much we still care about each other"
their scars are the only soft and tender part on them, new and innocent skin next to hard won calluses
cassian's ex wife
meet first time when cassian gets backup for his mission
huge sexual tension
competence porn
celebrating successful mission, cassian shoots his shot
she reveals she used to be in intelligence
"understand this captain andor. i have a lot of respect for what you do. it's horrid work but it needs to be done. matter of fact i started in intelligence. but the one thing i know, is the kind of person that can stand that line of work, the kind of person i was back then, thats not the kind of people i want to break bread with"
she pulls rank on him despite him being older and more experienced. "in my branch you get promoted fast because you die fast" cassian was being pessimistic/realist sbout expected bad outcome but young recruit is horrified
more massive sexual tension
at a bar or something, she goes outside to make out with some rando guy, cassian follows her and chases him off and kisses her. not nice and tender, hatefuck in an alleyway but it's so hot
doesn't see each other again
fuck in a tent, fuck in the showers
start to bond, see each other's honour and kindess.
after a bad mission she's doubting herself, unable to sleep, cassian takes her to a secret vantage point. "sometimes i think i'm a dispicable person" "not to me" he kisses her "what, really here?" where they're in constant threat of being walked in on "no." they just make out and its tender snd loving and it scares her off and she avoids him for a while
cassian gets captured and held in solitary confinement for months, mentally tortured, starved. tries to escape, gets punished.
gets fucked up in the head. draven and elkie are the only one pushing to find him and break him out. after cassian is found and returns to base he's a shell of himself, spooked, makes intense eye contact with elkie as he passes her but no aknowledgement of their signifigance to each other. after medical checks he's left alone and starts to panic, but before he freaks out fully, she comes into his room with shaving kit and a peach. she cuts a few slices for him to enjoy because hes not really allowed fruit, talks to him and shaves him
as he heals she arranges for him to be put in a room with a chatty old soldier who keeps telling him old war stories, and visits him whenever she back on base. after a particularly bad mission. she crawls into his hospital bed in the middle of the night.
after he's discharged, she sleeps with him whenever she can, calming him down after nightmares. one night he knows she's sleep deprived and needing to wake up early for important things the next day and tells her to stop sacrificing her sleep to help him. she's quiet before she asks if he is making her leave. he says no, so she just snuggles up to him. he realizes she prefers being woken up all night to sleeping without him.
one say when cassian's feeling like he cant stand being amongst the people on the base in the mess hall, she brings him back to the vantage point to have lunch. they fuck but it's making love.
something in between
she gets captured and tortured. breaks leg. cassian rescues her. cassian cares for her in the immediate aftermath, she wakes up to him asleep in the hospital chair after he comes back from his own mission
back on base, superiors want to send her off base to recuperate and get better PT, she really doesn't want to go, she knows she might never make it back and lose her nerve and her mind. their sleeping in cassian's bed and she admits this. he says there's desk work she can do on base. "married officers get first choice of postings" she's stunned by the insinuation "i need to know you arent whoring yourself out out of some misplaced need to take care of me. just because you slept with me a couple times doesn't mean i'm your responsibility." "i need to know you aren't... offering... out of convenience. just a loophole to help me out" "i'm not. i can't live without you anymore"
they get married, she takes his name.
captain andor and captain andor
she drops off the grid for an extended period of time, she sees him in a crowd and he thinks she's a hostile, tries to take her down but she takes off her mask and goggles
she dies in his arms
CASSIAN'S LITTLE SISTER/DAUGHTER
cassian's 16 she's 8, he saves her and has to babysit her for a while
around rogue one she's 18 starting to do field work as an agent
cassian as fulcrum is not nice or friendly but mentors her and takes care of her
she just starts acting like a friend even though she has no reason to treat him like one
bonds with jyn
they go to each other when they're concerned about cassian, jyn tells her about a miscarriage, she tells jyn about PTSD she doesn't want to admit to cassian
later as peace becomes more viable and cassian less cold and jaded, he starts to act like her family and at first it scares her off a bit
she's hostile, says you don't have any right treating me like a child considering how you treated me in the past
CASSIAN JYN F1
bodhi jyn both trained by legendary race strategist galen erso (betrays imperial team and orson krennic?)
bodhi was trained to to compete and be great, jyn was thrown in and not expected by others to be a real competitor
jyn joins f1 with saw gerrera's partisans, low midfield team, strapped for cash
bodhi drives with his brain
jyn drives with her gut
bodhi tells her she can be truly great when she masters melding the thinking and control with her raw talent
jyn podiums once and is over the moon but cassian isnt happy for her and she doesnt understand
cassian says she doesnt understand racing yet, put herself on the line for revenge, had no way of knowing she was gonna survive her dirty trick and she only won when almost half the field retired
calls her hotheaded and not ready
cassian was an excellent ruthless driver, would drive dirty to make the win
very good (champion?)
gets into bad crash (jyn saves him?) and retires, join rebellion as race strategist
cassian suggests jyn as new driver
leia backs him up
jyn helps cassian with his PT and tells him he doesn't have to put on a mask for her and he allows himself to show that he's in pain
jyn falls asleep in cassian's hotel room and when he tucks her in she grabs him and they fall asleep together
at a party after a good win jyn's tipsy and grabs cassian and starts singing and dancing in his face and cassian is laughing and loving every moment
jyn's championship title comes down to the last race
she gets a rough bump that physically takes a toll on her
she has a good lead but she blows a tire and limps home
(krennic gets on the radio somehow to try and break her confidence?)
cassian: "do your best, bring her home. i'm right here jyn, I'm with you to the end. I'm not going anywhere"
jyn wins a championship and retires
she's proved herself after no one thought she would, defeated vader for a season
she knows she doesn't have a strong chance of doing it again and wants to make room for luke and han so they don't join imperial
F1 STORY
young hotshot female driver gets put into falling from glory ferrari with him
he used to be eyed as the next great talent but in a shit car he doesn't have any accomplishments to show and is starting to lose the hype and his drive to win
she idolizes him, after a race where she does very well for a rookie and he delivers good but not great results, she goes into his driver's room and congratulates him on a good drive
out of a need to assert control he fucks her
he's trying to massage his own shoulder, she says here let me help, get close, talking, he turns to catch her eye and realises how close they are and kisses her
fucks her on the desk, hot and dirty
after their lustful scramble he comes back yo his senses and is a bit ashamed of what he's done
kisses her on the forehead and leaves, saying see you tomorrow
they keep hooking up throughout her rookie season, and spending time together
in the public eye, her sweet genuine humorous personality tempers his steely cold and focussed persona and media and fans eat it up, everyone loves them as old gruff dude and young hotshot jokester duo
two seasons like that as they grow closer
there's a picture of him as a f1 rookie giving 14yo her a trophy
forehead kisses become a meme
she tells him what he already knows, he needs to jump ship from the team he loves in order to win
he signs with a top three team as she continues to get more experience at their old team
throughout the season they continue hooking up and hanging out
in winter break they spend a lot of time with each other, to the point it seems like they're dating but theyve never discussed it
he wins a world championship, realises the only person he wants to celebrate with is her
she gets signed to a title contender team
next time they hook up he's being a tender and says something commitment related
she freezes up
"what did you think this is"
"yeah of course anyone would jump at the chance to fuck their idols, that doesn't mean their idols would be a good person to settle down with"
"did u think i would fall in love with you just because i look up to you? im not some groupie. as if you weren't just taking advantage of me the first time, cheating on your girlfriend. im smart enough to know I'm not special, if you did it to her you certainly have it in you to do it to me"
"i think we should stop doing this"
breakup, theyre both heartbroken
he feels betrayed, thinking the girl he's in love with just used him
she doesn't want to admit she really did fall for him
he gets signed to the same team as her
the whole world is super excited to see their chemistry again but they're super cold, barely together, barely acknowledge each other
press conference she blows off the question of whether she's excited to be teammates again
he gets into tabloids rumored to be dating hot celebs
they have a bad rivalry on the track
fighting for positions gets double retirement and other bad things
eventually he realises she only pushed him away out of self preservation and she mist have loved him to have done so much and cared for him the way she did
he apologizes and asks her to give them a chance
she's shocked but she agrees, but she says they shouldnt be together until the season is over
cue sexual tension
she misses him too much and he comes into her hotel room to get a fright
shes in his bed and they cuddle
she wins the championship
after 5 years of being together and racing, he retires
proposes to her, to the shock of the world
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Hey I don’t know if requests are open or not so please just ignore this post if they aren’t!! Could you please do headcannons or a scenario of yan Dabi or Tomura with a somewhat apathetic fem s/o? She just lets things happens and “goes with the flow” (as best you can when you’re kidnapped). Eventually her captor has to bring up the fact that most people would be hysterical over being kidnapped by a notorious villain. Thank you so much!! 💕
I still don't have much experience writing for Shigaraki so I'm sorry if he's a bit ooc! aaah I tried! Hope you like it!
Dabi
Yandere Type: Possessive, Sadistic, Controlling
• He had been stalking you for a while before he even made his move. It was easy enough though to steal you away. Break in with the key he had made, hide in your closet until you left the room, slip the dissolving sedatives into your glass of water then go back to hiding until you were out cold. Sure enough, you drank every drop and passed out shortly after. Dabi couldnt help but smirk as he came out of hiding and scooped you up, marvelling at how perfectly you fit in his arms and how easily things had worked out.
•When you woke up in the run down apartment he had you locked in, rather than screaming and panicing... You just looked around. A pity really. Dabi was oh-so looking forward to seeing your expression when you realized what was happening. But rather than hearing the sweet sobs he was longing for, you just sat silently. Perhaps you were in shock?
• "My name is Dabi. You belong to me now... This is your new home. If you try to run away, I'll kill you," he told you.
"Oh... Okay.... I won't run then."
Wait... What did you just say? Was that supposed to be a joke? Were you trying to trick him? Dabi watched you carefully, trying to piece together what game you were trying to play. Surely it wouldn't be that easy to break you in. Dabi knew these circumstances were supposed to be horrifying, making your reactions all the more suspicious. You stood up and began walking around his room and inspecting your surroundings. You picked up magazine that laying on the floor.
"I'm kind of hungry. Got any food?"
• The next few weeks left Dabi on edge. He was certain you were biding your time and planning an escape soon. Or waiting until he let down his gaurd before you'd attack him. But despite how ready he was for you to flip the switch and lunge at him, it never came. You just let things happen. Whenever he made food, you ate it without questioning if he had put anything in it. Whenever he pulled you close,you didn't tense up or struggle. Hell, you didn't even fight back when he shoved his tongue down your throat for a heated kiss. You never flinched. Never faltered when he forced his affections on you. What were you planning? Was he so beneath you that you wouldn't even waste the effort? Was he not good enough- even as a kidnapper?
• You were casually lounging on his bed, using his lap as a pillow while your eyes were glued go to the TV. The news was playing repeat stories of your possible death and disappearance, the lives lost during attacks by the league of villains and how blue flames had been littered across the city and burning whatever it touched to the ground. All these horrible images playing, clearly linked to him... And yet here you sat, relaxing in his lap like some kind of adoring pet despite witnessing the atrocities he has committed.
•Dabi is left with mixed feelings. On one hand, your lack of reaction infuriated him. He wanted to see you scared. He was looking forward to licking away those tears. Hear that beautiful voice crying and begging for mercy. Having you be so afarid of him that you would do anything he commanded... But he couldn't deny that he enjoyed this passive side of you. You were already submitting to him. You just went along with whatever he did with no resistance as if it was normal. Wasn't this exactly what he wanted?
• "Why aren't you scared of me y/n? You know what I'm capable of... Anyone else would be terrified," he questioned. You shrug.
"My life was kind of boring before this honestly. And you take care of me. So its not too bad here," you replied nonchalantly, not even taking your eyes off the television.
Dabi kept staring down at you. That's it? He treated you 'OK'? And you were fine with staying here? Dabi let out an amused grunt as he began to play with your hair. As weird a reason as it was, it was still a reason. Dabi was oddly... satisfied knowing that you genuinely weren't going to try to escape. You were perfectly content at staying at his side forever.
- - - - - -
Tomura Shigaraki
Yandere Type: Possessive, Controlling and Delusional
•A twisted smile spread across Tomura's face as Kurogiri's warp gate opened. Nomu stepped into the bar, an unconsious form tucked under his arm. Tomura quickly stood up from his seat and scurried over to take you in his own arms. He held you tightly against his chest, deeply inhaling the scent of your hair and struggling to surpress a pleasured groan and shudder. How long had he been waiting for the day to hold you like this? Far too long. It was if you fit against him perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. One of the villains made an assertive cough, reminding him that Tomura wasn't alone in the room. He rolled his bloodshot eyes.
• They didn't understand his kind of love. None of them could, except for maybe Himiko. And even then, nobody in the world existed who could ever love you more than he could. Tomura cooed to you gently, marveling at how precious you were as you slept. He quietly excused himself, opting to take you to a private location rather than be prevy to the judgemental eyes. The sooner people stopped looking at his beloved, the better.
• When you came to, you were laying tucked neatly into a small bed in the corner of what looked like a giant cage. You yawned and sat up, only to look up and realize that you were not alone. Just outside the cell, a skinny man stood staring down at you with wide, blood red eyes. His gaze was intense as he breathed heavily, not once blinking or breaking eye contact. After a tense silence, he spoke.
"Wel..come home, Y/N.... I've been waiting... for so long to finally have you," he wheazed while gripping the bars of the cell.
"My name is Tomura... I don't think you remember me, but that's okay. It was so long ago when we met. But I never gave up on you. On us... I've been watching for so long, just waiting... Ahhh now we're finally together," he confessed airily, his cheeks turning red.
You looked around at the dingey room. The wallpaper was peeling back, windows nailed shut with wooden boards. This place was falling apart. The room was illuminated only by a small lamp that sat atop a computer desk so it was hard to make much out. Wait, what's that against the other wall? Another bed. Was this his room? Tomura extended his arm, pointing his finger at the small table by your bedside where a tray of food was waiting.
"I made your favorite... eat up my love."
•Tomura was sitting at his desk when he heard you clear your throat from inside your little prison cell.
"Excuse me? Tomura was it? Um... can you let me out of the cell for a bit? I can barely stretch out in here," you asked politely.
Tomura swiveled around in his chair, tilting his head curiously at your request. It had been quiet these last few hours. After you had eaten you meal, you had just been lounging around on the tiny bed, staying silent. Well, at least you weren't panicking as much as he thought you would. You weren't panicking at all really. Hmm.. He did want you to feel at home, since this would be your home until he decided otherwise. He could let you out to stretch right? He didn't want his beloved feeling crowded.
"If I do, will you behave?" he questioned.
"Well yeah. The windows are boarded shut so I can't get out that way. And that door over there is probably locked," you explained, nodding in the direction of the only exit on the opposite side of the room.
• Such a clever girl. Of course you would notice that sort of thing. You were his brilliant darling after all. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a keyring. Your eyes watched carefully as he inserted the key... but he didn't turn it. Your eyes went back up to his face where you found him.... staring at you.
"If you try anything funny... I'll put you right back in there," he warned.
"I won't."
• Tomura sat at his office chair, watching a video online with you sitting in his lap. Feeling you so close to him was wonderful. As promised, you were behaving. Execptionally well in fact. Tomura sighed happily, pulling you tightly to his chest and pressing into your back. You didn't even flinch when he snaked his arms around you to hug your waist. You were being totally complacent.
"You know, Y/N... I could kill you right now, if I wanted to..." he weezed behind you, his breath warm against the shell of your ear.
You shrugged and reached out to use the mouse to scroll the playlist of videos you had been watching. Tomura's hand shot up clamped tightly over your neck. You froze, stoping the mouse.
"Please don't ignore me dearest. Its bad manners," he hissed.
You swallowed and nodded.
"Hmmm... You know that I've killed a lot of people, right? Does that frighten you? Knowing that you're at the complete mercy of such a villain?" he whispered.
"... Not really. If you wanted to kill me, I wouldn't be able to stop you even if I tried. So I won't bother struggling. Do whatever you want to me," you admitted.
• Tomura's dry lips curled into a sickening grin. Oh my, the countless ideas that could insinuate. You remained as still, feeling his body begin to tremble as he giggled maniacally. Suddenly the hand that had been clamped over your throat loosened and fell to your arm, rubbing small circles on it. In any other circumstance, such a gesture would have been reassuring. But it was was more unnerving given the fact that he had buried his nose into your hair and continued to inhale sharply.
"Ahh, such a tantalizing answer my love... I certainly will do just that. I have so many fun ideas of things we can do. I'm sure you're just as excited to try them as I am."
#yandere bnha#yandere mha#yandere boku no hero acadamia#yandere my hero acadamia#dabi#shigaraki tomura#mha tomura#yandere x reader#yandere dabi#yandere tomura#yandere
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Candy 15-17
Alright I know this is supposed to be sad but this feel so ridiculous it’s funny
“He ventures a glance at Dave, who is at the front of the line carrying a smaller casket containing Dirk’s decapitated head. “
why is there a seperate casket for the head, that’s not what funeral homes do xD
“It would be absurd were it not so tragic, and possibly also predictable.”
“He looks at Dirk’s casket, sitting diagonally in a hole in the floor and popped about 13% of the way open.”
That’s a strangley specific number
Am I to take the imagery of something being diagonal as imagery for a “4″ and then complete it with the 13 to make 413?
Cuz is so, that’s heavy handed and ridiculous probably just as Dirk intended
“ROXY: and give it over to someone whos way more eloquent than me
Dave gets to his feet”
right because Dave is always so eloquent when it comes to delicate emotional matters lol
I don’t know why I’m finding this all so hilarious instead of tragic, maybe because it’s so melodramatic and in a way that feels scripted specifically by Dirk himself
ah, 3 quarters
3 1/4′s
413 backwards now
“or even worse that he was somehow cosmically fated to become that person no matter what he wanted or did to prevent it “
I’m noticing more and more every time the phrase Cosmically fated is used in some form of Homestuck media its always bringing to mind ideas of Doc Scratch, like he’s the one who said it actually or it’s said in reference to him
so, +1 point to DS = DS again
“Gamzee: I may not be all up and learned about his life, but I’ve got deep spirital connections to his death.”
yeah you sure do, and we’re not even talking about his decapitation right now aren’t we Gamzee?
This is actually a really solid point that the day “Dirk” died was the day his ultimate self got poisoned through the unholy merger that is Lord English/Caliborn/Gamzee/AR/Equius
So he’s probably been a bastard ever since Lord English started existing, which I mean “I am already here” blahblah means Dirk was very likely like this from the start potentially, but he was probbaly only really a bastard ever since Arquis got sucked into Caliborn/Gamzee
“GAMZEE: ThIs WaS nO cOiNcIdEnCe. It WaS a HiGhEr PoWeR gUiDiNg My PaTh.
GAMZEE: tHeSe PoWeRs MaDe SuRe ThAt I wOuLd Be ThErE, tO rEcEiVe A gReAt WaRrIoR’s FiNaL mEsSaGe, AnD rElAy It To YoU oN tHiS dArK aNd DrEaRy DaY oF dEaTh.
GAMZEE: HoNk!
The clown thrusts his hand somewhere beneath the waistband of his pants and starts obscenely rooting around. He retrieves a piece of paper, crumpled and soaked from the rain outside, and attempts to smooth it out over the lectern. The wet paper breaks apart immediately beneath his oafish clown paws.
GAMZEE: AwWw, ShIzZ. i GuEsS i’Ve GoT tO uP aNd WiNg It!”
yeah that note was probably the last shredded remnants of good dirk since there’s literally no reason to leave a sentimental note like that for his friends, makes sense Gamzee was guided by “a higher power” to grab it and make sure it gets relayed more like ruined to his friends
“KARKAT: THAT WAS HALF A HUNDRED WORDS TO EXPRESS A THREE LETTER SENTIMENT.
KARKAT: I’D SAY HE’S DOING FINE.”
What? How does “I’d say he’s doing fine” translate into “a three letter statement”?
Are they just hamfisting in the threes now or what?
“DAVE: i dunno dude thats
DAVE: a little fucked up actually
JOHN: you think so?
DAVE: yeah
DAVE: dirk was a complicated guy
DAVE: dude obviously had reasons for doing what he did
DAVE: if you go back and just rewrite his decision
DAVE: thats like denying him his personal autonomy
JOHN: huh. i... didn’t think about it that way.“
Yeah if only they’d realize that what Dirk needs is a huge heaping helping of someone pushing back against his dumb decisions for once
Gotta give it to John though, he’s struggling against this drugged up haze so hard, he knows getting married to Roxy isn’t right and tries to think about that
but then he gets caught up in the drugged up candy haze and starts giggling, yeah you guys are gonna be happy alright, happy in a nice little drugged up stupor
lampshaded by John still reaching out to terezi despite being at his human wedding
Aww, trolls don’t have a concept of weddings? well, that makes sense but still
oh man it just keeps happening, this is supposed to be the story where John and Roxy get their love story, but all were actually getting is the faded echoes of what should have been which is apparently John and Terezi
oh god, Jane, jane why did Gamzee have to be your third partner, what the fuck even
I don’t wanna think about Gamzee about in relationships nope this is where I start getting uncomfortable
confirmed jade attempting Blackrom with Karkat, that’s interesting, and she’s bad at it too meaning she must not really have an interest in it
oh wow, she’s really just doing it because she thinks its what Karkat would want isnt she? Girl really is just desperate for love
“Three months later, John is still thinking about his last conversation with Terezi.”
See, this is how you know the JohnRoxy relationship is doomed/not meant to be
John Egbert, lover of Con Air and Nic Cage, has a loving wife and (probably) daughter and NOT ONCE has this narrative shown them OR made the joke, we just absolutely passed over the whole wedding and birth event in one fell swoop of unrequited feelings jam with another woman
Why is Roxy praying? That’s such a weird thing to drop as a small detail, who would she even be praying too?
“What’s bugging him about it is that Roxy didn’t seem to have any suggestions of her own.”
Yeah relationships built on social chameleon-ing aren’t happy for the chameleon either
Yeah John, little bit late to be having this sudden realization that you didn’t actually solve the problem (LE) by running away from it, even if everyone else has accepted that version of events
“ JOHN: you gave me a list of instructions and told me that i had to use my retcon powers to go back to a very specific point in time to defeat lord english when he was still just a kid. “
*THEORY INCOMING KILL BILL SIRENS ACTIVATE*
Wait, is that what Rose said at the beginning? No it isn’t, I remember the bit about John has to go back inside canon and defeat Lord English, I don’t think the method was ever fully explained though, nor the idea that he had to defeat him as a kid, it was never said he had to go back in time, just go back to canon
and that’s not what happened in the Meat timeline either! Nobody went back in time to defeat Caliborn when he was a kid, they just had the big showdown with LE exactly the way Rose is describing that went horribly wrong
this is practically screaming NEITHER Meat or Candy is the true version of events
Actually yeah, defeating Caliborn really IS the way this should be settled, because it’s also the way that Dirk get saved as well, can’t get his ultimate self tainted if the taint is destroyed before it ever comes into contact with him
also im rereading the prologue now, it’s is NEVER explicitly said that John has to go and defeat lord english’s child form!
She said “you have to go back to canon to defeat LE” NOT go back in time to defeat caliborn
and “you can’t recklessly attack his hulking adult form without the house juju”
not “you can’t attack him as an adult at all” but “you can do that WITHOUT the juju” and describes it being used in the same way that Vriska ended up doing in Meat
yeah, she never mentions any plan to defeat him as a child in the prologue, which probably means Rose only saw a vision of his defeat as an adult as well
It’s gonna be JOHN who gets the idea to go back and kill him as a kid, because that’s how he understood Rose’s instructions!
But this is great, everything is vaguely worded enough that it COULD be applied to a fight against a young caliborn too! but just hasn’t yet!
What if you take the empty cursor and fill it with a young caliborn? instead of unleashing a full one against an adult LE? which proves to be pretty useless in the long run despite Rose’s apparent clouded vision?
Rose even says herself its only purpose is as an empty vessel meant to be filled by something, talk about totally understanding yet missing the point, this is probably what she meant by being unable to see any path beyond the meat or candy routes, she couldnt see the possibility of using the juju on caliborn before everything goes down just like how it was used on John and friends to trap them in there in Meat!
It’s Caliborn’s destined time out spot! Removing him from Canon and from being able to influence it without needing to kill someone who technically hasnt done bad things yet but absolutely will in the future solving the baby adolf problem with Caliborn
Oh man, what if they even trick Caliborn on using it against himself? talk about an earthbound reference, defeat Gigyas (LE) by tricking Pokey (Caliborn) to trap himself in the "Absolutely Safe Capsule” (House JuJu)
Oh man back on the Candy train though John’s having an absolute breakdown, being infused with that canon retcon power seems to be the only thing preserving his ability to care about stuff beyond this happy drugged up paradise
Earth C has become Homestuck’s Ba Sing Se
“ He braces himself, as if splashing an imaginary glass of cold water in his own face, and reminds himself once again that he has a wonderful life. A perfect life. He’s HAPPY, god damn it.”
You really aren’t John, this is very clear, dousing yourself with some more Void to try and drown that out ain’t helping
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I Need You
A request for your appreciation post~
She was always there for him. A bright light shining in the darkness when his coldest thoughts would haunt him. But she starts to draw away from him,not answering when he thinks he needs her most. His own best friend and the last anchor in his life won’t come when he calls. And so he feels he’s been left alone. He hates her for abandoning him,he’s angry and lost and destructive,until he gets a call. “Is this Mr.Min? This is Officer Jeon and I’m here at Seoul Medical in the ER. You were listed as (reader’s emergency contact.)”
It turns out that she’d been in an abusive relationship but didn’t want to worry him because of what he’d been going through.He rushes to the hospital to find her bruised up bad,barely conscious and he breaks down beside her.
“Stop it Yoongi. Don’t beat yourself up for me.”
“But I love you. And I was too wrapped up in my own bullshit to realise that you were hurting so much more than me. How could I be so blind??”
Yeah I know this is super specific I got over excited lol. If there’s anything you wanna change that’s kewl. But I Need You,specifically the beginning lyrics inspired me and I couldnt help myself. Either way thank you!!💚💜💚
—
A/N: @anjelicjazz thank you so much for sending this!! I Need You is one of the first BTS songs I listened to and I still love it loads. I hope I didn’t let you down with the story coz this is not my usual style of writing…
Also, english lyrics taken from here
Pairing: Yoongi x reader (deduced from Mr. Min hahaha)
Word count: 2.5k words
Genre: angsttt but i wouldn’t say it’s a sad ending
Warnings (a lot of it): evident from request, there’s abusive themes; further, there’s mentions of cheating, violence, accidents and mild swearing
“Fall Fall Fall, scattering apart
Fall Fall Fall, falling”
Pieces of porcelain and glass scattered on the floor.
A man falling.
Scraps of torn paper flutters down like snow, a piece getting caught in between his fingers, the rest of it dropping onto the ground and turning wet.
—
“Because of you, I’m becoming ruined
I wanna stop, I don’t want you anymore
I can’t do it, this sucks
Please don’t give me any excuses”
Yoongi unlocked the door, the familiar scent of her shampoo coming from the bathroom indicating she’s home. He drags his feet in, not at all excited to be back. Months have gone on, he liked her, but he didn’t like her. She had her ways, keeping him chained to her side. At times he felt like he couldn’t live without her, at times he felt like he wished he never met her. Coming back was only out of habit and he just didn’t find the strength to leave altogether.
However tonight, she gave him that strength. The pieces of clothing scattered around, the moaning sounds travelling down the hallway, the intense vibrations in the air, all gave him that strength.
He walks into the bedroom, just to let her know that he dutifully came back today too despite not having to.
“Yoon- Yoongi…”, his name came out in half a moan and half a gasp.
Without a word, he walks to the wardrobe. He was already wearing a leather jacket but it’s too cold outside now, he persuaded himself. He picks out a dark gray hoodie, taking off his leather jacket, he pulls it over his head, before putting on the leather again.
“Yoongi! Wait, I can expl-”, she runs out into the living room after him, wearing only a bathrobe.
“What for…”, Yoongi hisses, not turning around to look at her, just the thought of it making him sick.
“Min Yoongi, don’t leave me, I need you”, she sniffles.
“I need you…”, he growls.
She almost breaks into a smile and skipped towards him when he finishes his line.
“… to let me leave. Admit it. You want me, but you don’t need me”, and he storms out into the night.
—
“You can’t do this to me
All of the things you said are like a mask
It hides the truth and rips me apart
It pierces me, I’m going crazy, I hate this
Take it all away, I hate you”
When she said she loved him, those were lies. When she said he was all she wanted, those were lies. When she said she will be with him forever, those were lies.
Each time she lied, a nail was hammered in to his heart. He could easily see through her deception, but he believed her again and again, letting his own lies get in the way of seeing the truth. But enough is enough, every coffin has a last nail. She sealed it today, the coffin over his dead love.
She never loved him, he was never enough for her.
—
“But you’re my everything
Everything
Everything
Please go away”
He had believed that she could be his everything. He had wanted it that way. He melded her lies to fit his dreams. In the end, his dreams became a lie.
She was not everything. And he was nothing.
—
“I’m sorry (I hate you)
I love you (I hate you)
Forgive me”
“I’m sorry”, “forgive me”, “I love you”, those were her biggest lies, and he never wants to hear these words again.
—
“I need you girl
Why am I in love alone, why am I hurting alone
I need you girl
Why do I keep needing you when I know I’ll get hurt?
I need you girl, you’re beautiful
I need you girl, you’re so cold
I need you girl I need you girl”
He loved her alone. He was hurt alone. He always went back to her alone. He needed to prove that he could conquer her. He knew he would be hurt again, but his ego wouldn’t let him go. At least now he knows, he never needed her, he only wanted to prove a point.
The sleepless nights, the heinous thoughts, his blinded soul. All those times, you were the only one by his side when she broke him.
“I don’t think anyone in this world can love me”, he mumbles, not realising he was resting most of his weight on you.
“Look at the sky", you told him, “think about it… somewhere there must be at least one person who is looking up at it with loving eyes, but the sky never knows, that it is loved like that”, you said while squinting and pointing up at the blue sky, the dark gray hood falling off of your head as you looked up.
—
“It goes round and round, why do I keep coming back
I go down and down, at this point, I’m just a fool
Whatever I do, I can’t help it
It’s definitely my heart, my feelings but why don’t they listen to me”
You had warned him about her. You had told him about her. But he fearlessly charged ahead, and all you could do was watch him burn, both his heart and yours.
Yet he pulled through long enough, not because he had her, but because he had you. Even though you hated that he ran to her, you kept your arms opened for him. He ran back to you countless of times, and each time, you still embraced him with all your heart.
You healed him better than any medicine, vices or human could. And after you healed him, he would stubbornly go back to his old ways again, thinking it was fine, it will be fine, because he had the best medicine in the world.
Both of you were fools.
—
“I’m just talking to myself again, talking to myself again
I’m just talking to myself again, talking to myself again
You’re not saying anything, please, I’ll treat you well
But the sky is blue, the sky is blue”
At some point, you vanished from his life. He would call, he would message but you would never pick up or reply.
It was too sudden, it was too harsh. He needed to know why, so that he could attempt to do better. But he never asked, and in any case, you would never have replied.
He takes out his phone, wanting to dial your number again. The clenches in his heart squeezes him dry. It didn’t hurt when he saw her in bed with another man tonight. But it hurts so much when he opens his chat with you. The long list of messages from him to you, like a soliloquy, drawing no response.
—
“The sky is blue and the sun is shining
So my tears are even more noticeable
Why is it you? Why did it have to be you?
Why can’t I leave you?”
He leans against the railings on the bridge the whole night, looking up at the sky. The stars disappeared as the sun has now risen, and he was wondering if you too were looking up at this sky. Tears welled up in his eyes. Where are you now? Why did he need you so much? You deserve better…
Your pupils felt a sudden change in brightness despite the fact that you couldn’t really open your eyes. You used every strength to lift your eyelids just enough to see a blurry blue sky. Breathing was difficult, hushed shouting surrounded you, all your nerve endings could detect was pain. Why did this happen to you? Why did it have to be you? Could you not have walked away? At least the sky was still blue. But it was only seconds before it was taken away, and then all you could see was the metallic insides of an ambulance. A tear rolls down your eye.
—
“I need you girl
Why am I in love alone, why am I hurting alone
I need you girl
Why do I keep needing you when I know I’ll get hurt?
I need you girl, you’re beautiful
I need you girl, you’re so cold
I need you girl, I need you girl”
Yoongi returns to the apartment, wanting to pack all of his things. She runs up to him, hugging him from behind and crying into his back.
“I’m sorry, Yoongi”, she whimpers.
Enough.
“I really do love you…”
Enough.
“Please forgive me one last time”, she chokes.
“ENOUGH!”, he shouts, grabbing her arms and throwing her onto the couch.
She starts to yell at him too. Demanding to know where he went throughout the night, threatening him with herself, shouting at him that he was to blame for all these as well.
You hadn’t been there to heal him, you hadn’t been there to hold him back, you hadn’t been there to calm him down. So this must be it, this must be the real extent to which he never knew he must have hated her.
She throws a pillow at him in anger, he catches it and smashes it at the cabinet instead. When the glass panel didn’t shatter, he was more enraged. He picks up a photo frame on the nearby mantlepiece and hurls it straight at the glass shelves filled with kitchenware. Pieces of porcelain and glass scattered on the floor.
She screamed at him even more, hysterical that he would act like this to her, outraged that he was no longer under her control. How he wished he had shattered with the fragile tableware, but he was still in one piece, and that made him increasingly upset. Yet even in his strongest rages, he would never hurt another person, other than himself.
Just as he was about to make probably the worst decision in his life, the sound of his phone ringing pierced through the room. He didn’t pick it up.
There was suddenly an intense silence in the room when the ringing stopped. Then the unknown number calls again. Yoongi was beyond annoyed but decides that he should answer it.
“Is this Mr. Min Yoongi?”, the caller enquired.
“Yes, why?”, he was impatient.
“This is Officer Jeon and I’m here at Seoul Medical, in the Emergency Room. You were listed as an emergency contact of Ms. Y/N…”, the caller said calmly.
He dashes to the hospital. The only thing on his mind is that you must be safe; he needs you to be. He only ever needed you.
—
“Girl, just tell me you wanna break up
Girl, just tell me it wasn’t love”
Patches of purple, dark blue and black adorned your body, or at least whatever was visible to him. Your lips were parched and cut up, one eye more swollen than the other and a long line of stitches stretched across your forehead.
“Mr. Min Yoongi?”, the voice from the call earlier approaches him.
“What happened to her?”, he demanded.
“Someone reported that they heard screaming coming from the apartment and when we went to the scene, she was unconscious. We understand that she was at her boyfriend’s apartment and we are investigating the matter now…”, Officer Jeon explains.
He crouches next to your motionless form, holding onto your hand. You felt cold, you looked brittle. How could anyone hurt you like this? Why didn’t you leave him?
Tell me, he begged internally, tell me you didn’t love him. He was crying by now, because he understands. You were just like him.
—
“I have no courage to say that
Give me my last gift
So I can’t ever go back to you”
“Why did you hide from me? Why didn’t you tell me?”, was what he asked when you woke up, his eyes puffy and swollen.
“Stop it, Yoongi. Don’t beat yourself up for me”, you said weakly, knowing that despite his blunt words to you, he was blaming himself inside.
“But I love you. And I was too wrapped up in my own bullshit to realise that you were hurting so much more than me. How could I be so blind??”, he sobbed. “Why will you never let me do anything for you…”, he lamented.
“I don’t want you to do anything… I just want you to be safe and happy…”, you smiled at him.
“Y/N, I’m sorry, I love you… forgive me”, and he said the words he hated the most before turning determinedly to head out.
—
“I need you girl
Why am I in love alone, why am I hurting alone
I need you girl
Why do I keep needing you when I know I’ll get hurt?”
A man falling. A car approaches. He smashes onto the hood.
A group of policemen struggles to restrain Yoongi on top of the short flight of stairs while another two rushes to attend to the accident.
How could they let the bastard out on bail? Yoongi couldn’t understand. He doesn’t want to either. He won’t let him hurt you again. That was how they ended up in a fight on the steps of the police station. One forceful punch from Yoongi caused him to lose his balance and fall onto the road below.
That was also how Yoongi ended up in the detention centre, wilting his days away. He doesn’t regret it. He never will.
He wrote many letters to you, always ending them with “I’m sorry, forgive me, don’t wait for me.”
You never came once to visit him. You never replied to his letters. So all he did was look out the window at the sky every day.
When he had only one month left to serve, he took all his time to write you just one more letter. This time he ended it with, “I’m sorry, I love you, will you wait for me?”
As he puts the pen down, he laughs at himself, and he tears up the letter slowly into tiny pieces.
Scraps of torn paper flutters down the table like snow, a piece getting caught in between his fingers, the rest of it dropping onto the ground and turning wet.
—
“I need you girl, you’re beautiful
I need you girl, you’re so cold
I need you girl I need you girl”
He walks out through the rusty metal door, the outside air smells not much different from the inside.
He stuffs his hands into the pockets of that same dark gray hoodie and doesn’t even look up as he walks on, knowing that there would be no one waiting for him anyway, and not knowing where he wanted to go now.
Suddenly, a pair of black converse appears in front of him, blocking his pointless march. He looks up and sees your face. You still looked the same, but for that scar on your forehead. He still felt the same, but for the scars left inside of him.
“You told me not to wait for you…”, you mumbled, “but I can’t… I’m sorry, I love you… forgive me.”
You needed him too. Just as much as he needed you. But you were both fools.
#yoongi fanfic#suga fanfic#bts#suga#yoongi#min yoongi#bts fanfic#bts fan fiction#yoongi fan fiction#suga fan fiction#bts requests#suga requests#yoongi requests#kpop fanfic#kpop fan fiction#kpop requests#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#suga x reader#suga angst#bts x reader#bts angst#submission
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Jumpstart Your Heart
it feels like it’s been a while right?? well, it’s been raining for a few days every week for about a month, so take ~4400 words of post-canon fluff (where Allura lived though it doesn’t really matter tbh). enjoy!!
Pidge’s car refuses to start.
Fat raindrops steadily pelt her windshield, the lights in the Target parking lot blurring through the streaks of water on the glass. The chill of the winter air fills the interior, her breath misting out in front of her, and when she turns her key in the ignition, all she gets is a stuttering choking sound.
Pidge growls as her forehead falls against the steering wheel. All she wanted from Target was a jar of peanut butter and a bottle of orange juice for tomorrow’s breakfast, but all she got was stranded.
(Well, and the peanut butter and juice; those, along with a bag of cherry-flavored licorice that looked really good on the shelf but tasted awful the instant she tore apart the first strip, lay safely inside a paper grocery bag on the backseat.)
This is fine though! She was a Defender of the Universe - she was in worse situations before launching into space in a blue, lion-shaped weapon of mass destruction. What’s a little car trouble to a Paladin of Voltron?
Pidge drums her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking…she has a jumper cable in the trunk, right? Or, no, she let Hunk borrow it last time he was on Earth and forgot to ask for it back. Maybe another total stranger in the parking lot would have one - and a working car battery - and be willing to help her out? If they need convincing, she can even put on the old gremlin Pidge voice for them.
What drained her battery anyway? It’s not like she has to worry about leaving her headlights turned on when they’re supposed to turn off automatically!
Wait, when was the last time she had the battery changed?
“Quiznak,” Pidge grumbles when she realizes she’s never changed the battery. She spends all day - and sometimes night - designing some of the most advanced ships and weaponry in the universe, but her own damn car still has the battery she bought it with.
She’s going to have to call for help.
Right as the thought crosses her mind, her phone vibrates in her jacket pocket. She fumbles for it with stiff, cold fingers, expecting it to be her mother wondering if she’s home yet (never mind that she moved out of her parents’ house and into her own Garrison-issued apartment almost a year ago) only to be greeted with an alert from the weather service.
A flash flood warning for her county of residence.
“This is fine,” Pidge tells herself despite her heart skipping a beat in alarm. She’s never seen it rain this hard and for so long in this corner of Arizona; is a tsunami of muddy water about to wash across the Target parking lot and sweep her and her traitorous car away while she deliberates?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she mumbles, scowling at her rain-streaked reflection in the window. “Tsunamis occur as a result of earthquakes, and I’m nowhere near the coast.”
But what if the dam on the river—
Pidge unlocks her phone and dials the first number on her “recent calls” list without glancing at the contact name. Her leg shakes, but she can’t tell if it’s from agitation or the shivers occasionally gripping her.
“Pidge!” Lance greets her cheerfully at the other end. “How’s it going? Not that I’m not happy to hear from you, but since when do you—”
“Lance,” she cuts himself off, “do you have a jumper cable?” Usually speaking to him on the phone leaves her a tad breathless and her palms so slick with sweat she risks dropping anything she’s holding - why does a simple phone call feel so intimate anyway? It’s weird; she calls her parents and brother on the phone all the time! - but now urgency steadies her voice.
“Right to the point, huh?” Lance muses with a chuckle. “Where are you?”
“Uh…the Target by the state highway two miles off-base,” Pidge tells him.
Lance laughs and wonders, “The peanut butter at the commissary not good enough for you?”
Her face warms - is she really that predictable? - but she muffles an irritated groan with her sleeve. “The commissary’s not open this late.”
“Yeah, I guess you could’ve just walked there too,” he adds.
“In the rain?” Pidge snorts. “I’m not crazy enough to risk pneumonia like you.”
“Hey, sometimes I like the simple things,” Lance says, “and one of those is walking around in the rain.”
As if on cue, the downpour becomes a torrent, the sky dumping buckets of water on her car where she sits huddling in the driver’s seat. “Oh, really?” Pidge retorts, rolling her eyes. “You’d better not walk here unless you want me to use your quintessence as if it’s a thirteen-volt battery.”
“Please, I know you need another car to jumpstart your battery,” Lance says. “And since you asked so nicely, I’ll even bring you my umbrella since I’m guessing you didn’t bother with yours when you left.”
Pidge slumps in her seat, tugging her hood over her face as if he’s there to witness her embarrassment when she admits, “That would be…nice.”
(Too bad an umbrella won’t keep puddles from soaking into her socks.)
“All right, hang tight, Pidge!” Lance says. “I’m already in my car, so I’ll be there in a bit.”
Huh, so some of the rain she hears is on his end. “I’ll be here,” Pidge mumbles, “waiting for you…as usual.”
“Hey, don’t be like that!” he says over the rumbling of his car’s engine. “Your knight-in-shining-armor - your very own Sir Lancelot - is on his way to rescue you!”
“Great!” Pidge says with false cheer. Sure, Lance is coming to get her, but she’s still stranded in the rain after the weather service broadcast a flash flood warning to her phone. “Just don’t die because you’re talking on your phone while driving in the dark during a storm.”
“If the Galra and a bunch of other crazy aliens couldn’t kill me, this won’t.”
Pidge runs her fingers through her rain-soaked ponytail and grumbles, “It better not, so please put your phone away and concentrate on driving.”
“All right, fine,” Lance says, and she can almost hear him rolling his eyes. “I thought you found the sound of my voice soothing or something…”
Ah, right, she told him that a few nights ago when she made the mistake of calling him after a nightmare kept her from falling back to sleep.
"It's not like I'm about to have a panic attack now," Pidge bites.
"You sure you're okay, Pidge?"
The concern in his voice...startles her; is he worried a tsunami will wash her away too?
Well, she already decided that fear is completely irrational, so she forces a smile onto her face and says, "I'm fine now that I know you're on your way, Lance."
"Uh—" He breaks off with a cough before he falls silent, the only sound coming from her phone the low hum of his car's radio.
"Lance?" Pidge prompts. "Are you—"
"Fine!" Lance exclaims brightly. "Great since my car still has a working battery! I'll be there in ten minutes, so see you, Pidge!"
He hangs up without giving her the chance to reply.
Pidge, not a little confused, stares at her phone's screen until it darkens, her brow furrowed. She's known Lance for the better part of a decade, but his behavior can still be such a mystery to her, especially of late. It’s almost as if he l—
Maybe she should just take the direct approach and ask him if anything's eating at him.
Luckily Lance doesn't leave her with enough time to really puzzle over it. His car's headlights flash obnoxiously - the jerk has his high-beams on! - through her windshield as he pulls into the parking spot in front of hers. A heartbeat later the driver's door swings open and Lance steps out, opening a Sailor Moon umbrella.
(She makes a mental note to ask - or tease - him about it later, and she won't take "It's my niece's" for an answer.)
He raises a hand and waves, his face barely discernible through the water splattered on her windshield, but she opens her door when he rounds his car.
The sound of the rain was muffled with her ensconced insider her car, but now it hammers down, pattering against Lance's umbrella and hitting her face as she turns to him.
"Hope you didn't miss me too much," Lance says, voice louder than usual to make himself heard over the rain.
Pidge raises an eyebrow and points out, "I saw you at work on Thursday." Never mind that something in her chest loosens at the sight of the smile - warmer than this quiznaking miserable weather - curling his lips...
"And yet you were desperate enough to drain your battery just for an excuse to call me for help." Lance's smile morphs into a smirk that has the unfortunate side effect of both irritating and endearing her.
Pidge snorts and mutters, "As if I need an excuse." She presses the button to pop her hood open before turning back to Lance. "Where's the jumper cable?"
Lance jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "In my trunk. Just wanted to make sure you were okay first." His gaze drifts over her, making her skin crawl with heat, but then he assesses, "You look a little cold."
Pidge rubs her arms, his comment reminding her of her trembling. "No k-kidding, so can we hurry up and jumpstart my car?"
"Okay, okay." Lance raises the hand not holding onto his umbrella defensively. "I forgot how bossy you are."
"I'm not bossy!" she retorts, but by then he's already retreated to his car, the rain covering up the sound of her voice.
But not the sound of his feet splashing through puddles.
Pidge sighs. What are the odds Lance knows how to jumpstart a car? Will he know on which terminal the black clamp goes? Will she need to show him?
Lance is a pilot; of course he knows how to do something so simple as jumpstarting a car, especially if he owns a jumper cable! But Pidge should step outside and hover near him...just in case.
Pidge winces the instant water soaks into her shoes - she should've worn boots rather than sneakers - but follows Lance to the front of her car. His umbrella handle is tucked awkwardly under his arm while he works on attaching the clamps of the jumper cable to her car's battery, his brow furrowed rather sweetly in concentration, at least until Pidge takes the umbrella.
He glances up in surprise, turning to her with wide eyes before a slow grin stretches over his lips. "For a tick I thought you were going to make me do this alone."
"Maybe if it wasn't raining," Pidge teases. She raises the umbrella over both their heads, huddling under its poor approximation of shelter.
(Lance is a better source of warmth anyway.)
Lance attaches a red clamp to the positive terminal on her car's battery and the black clamp to something metal. She trails after him to his car but can't help wondering, "You shut the ignition off, right?"
Lance frowns at her. "Can't you see the engine isn't on, Pidge?"
She smiles sheepishly and says, "Yes, now that you point it out."
"Then quit micromanaging me."
She shivers as he attaches the remaining two clamps to his car's battery, rain soaking into her clothes despite her efforts to stay under the umbrella. Her cold fingers loosen around the handle, too stiff to hold on properly, and she can't help a relieved shudder when Lance tells her it's time.
Her engine roars into life, a gleeful laugh escaping her when Lance whoops over the sound of two engines and the rain. "Perfect," she mumbles. "Now to let it charge for a few minutes..."
Her engine shudders and dies.
"What?" Pidge exclaims, her heart jumping into her throat. She smacks the steering wheel - as if that'll do any good - and groans, "No..."
A tapping on her window makes her jump, and she opens her door to Lance, sans Sailor Moon umbrella with his hood pulled over his head. "Didn't last, huh?" he observes regretfully.
Pidge shakes her head, slouching. "I'll have to buy a new battery in the morning," she says, "and..." She bites her lip before wondering, "Can you give me a ride home?"
Lance meets her eyes before he smiles and says, "I'll do you one better. You can spend the night at my place, and in the morning I'll take you to buy the battery before bringing you back here."
Pidge's jaw drops, but when she recovers - though her cheeks still feel hot enough to warm the interior of her car if only all the doors were closed - she says, "Lance, you don't have to do that. I can call my dad tomorrow and—"
"So you'll make me drive twice more in the rain?" Lance says, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow - which, frankly, looks absurd with his hair plastered to his head and water dripping down his face. "And one of those times without you to supervise me and make sure I don't commit some atrocity like texting while driving?"
Pidge throws up her hands and asks, "What are you, a teenager who just got his license?"
"Nope." Lance leans down, close enough to her level she can imagine the warmth of his breath touching her forehead. "Just a concerned friend who wants to do you a favor."
"Do you...owe me something?" Pidge wonders suspiciously.
"Come on, Pidge!" Lance rests his hands on her shoulders and shakes her slightly. "Let's have a sleepover like we used to on the Castle! You'll get warm and dry and be able to fall asleep to the sound of my oh-so-soothing voice if you want"—is he...blushing?—"and I'll even feed you. I might even have some hot chocolate mix and bread for you to slap some of that peanut butter onto if you want."
"But...I need pajamas," Pidge protests, though she knows she's already fighting a losing battle. "And a toothbrush—"
"I have an unused one," Lance says with a dismissive wave of his hand, "and I'll lend you something to sleep in. So...what do you say?"
Pidge's jaw flaps uselessly, taking in his hopeful expression and wondering if she can really make an objective decision about this with her heart hammering - does she really want to spend the night with Lance? - and with his obviously faked guilt trip.
"Fine," Pidge grumbles. Lance grins so brightly, his fist pumping, that she can't help a smile of her own.
But that doesn't stop her from warning him, "On one condition: I am not sharing my peanut butter with you."
Lance's car hydroplanes twice on the way to his apartment complex a few blocks from Garrison premises. Pidge holds tight to her seat belt, her heart bouncing in her chest until tires touch wet asphalt again.
Both times, she turns to Lance and socks his shoulder before saying, "Quit trying to kill us!"
Both times, he screeches in indignation and rubs his shoulder before retorting, "Quit trying to kill me!"
Both times, she retorts, "I barely hit you!"
And both times, he snorts before rolling his eyes and smiling with a fondness that makes her heart skip a beat for a reason that has little to do with fear that he'll skid off a cliff or into an overflowing canal.
"Relax!" Lance says after the second time. "I've got this, Pidge. I've driven in the middle of a hurricane before, so this is nothing."
Pidge crosses her arms. "You do know I have your mom's contact information and I can literally call her to fact check that claim?"
Lance laughs but presses a hand to his chest. "Oh, Pidge, you wound me by not trusting your old war comrade's words." When she continues to stare at him with her lips pressed together, utterly unimpressed, he scratches his ear sheepishly and confesses, "Fine, it was just a dying tropical storm, but come on!" He gestures broadly and adds, "We've been in the middle of space dogfights, so this really is nothing."
Pidge, in the end, can't fight her smile at the reminder - for all the misery that all caused her and her family and her planet - but she turns to the rain-streaked passenger window to hide it. "Just keep both hands on the steering wheel," she mumbles.
"As you wish, my dear Pidge," Lance says almost snidely, and she's pleased when he actually listens.
His apartment is familiar - she's visited many times by day or dry evening to play video games or watch a movie while eating takeout from that bizarre "Earth-alien" fusion place on the corner - but the walk from Lance's assigned parking spot to the door on the second floor deck feels long in the downpour.
Before Pidge can open the passenger door, Lance's hand on her arm freezes her. "Wait," he says. "I'll come around with the umbrella so you don't get too wet."
"You don't have to—" But his door shuts behind him, and Pidge barely sets foot outside - right in a puddle that soaks into her sneakers and the hems of her poor leggings - when he's there to greet her.
"By the way," Pidge says as he raises the umbrella over both their heads and she unthinkingly loops her arm through his, "what's with the Sailor Moon?"
Lance flushes, but he hides it well by reaching around her to grab her grocery bag and shove it into her free arm. "It's my, uh, niece's."
Pidge smirks. "I knew you'd say that."
"Let's just go inside," he grumbles.
They hightail it, running awkwardly standing close together under the umbrella before they give up on it and sprint full tilt, splashing through puddles with raindrops hitting her face and soaking into her hair when her hood flies off her head.
Pidge storms up the stairs ahead of Lance, and when her foot nearly slips out from under her, her breath escaping her in shock, he catches her around the waist. But she doesn't pause to consider the imprint of his touch on her, and by the time he unlocks his door and they pile into the warmth of his apartment, Pidge is shivering too violently to do much more than stand in her soaked clothes and tremble.
Lance shucking off his own wet jacket is enough to get her to move. She tugs hers off, handing it to him to hang on a hook from the shower rod in the bathroom, before kicking off her sneakers and peeling off her disgustingly wet socks and sinking her toes into the warm carpet in front of a vent blasting hot air.
Pidge shudders in relief, squatting in front of it as she combs her fingers through her sodden ponytail. She'll have to do something about all the tangles now too...
Lance clears his throat behind her, and she stands to see him handing her a towel and a set of old clothes. "You can, uh, change in the bathroom. I'll be in...the bedroom...changing my own clothes."
"Right." Pidge watches him retreat, his back to her while she admires the way his soaked shirt clings to his shoulders and shows off how the muscles in his back move.
And then he pauses in his bedroom doorway to glance over his shoulder, his eyes widening when they catch hers.
Heat rushes to her face when he turns back around and stretches his arms over his head with a groan before tugging off his shirt.
Pidge spins on her heel and buries her face in the towel he gave her. Did he do that because she was watching?
"Quiznak," she curses, her voice muffled in fabric.
Despite the chill she just escaped, Pidge splashes cold water onto her face once she's safely ensconced in the privacy of the bathroom. She's just here to spend the night, to accept the favor Lance offered her with no strings attached (for now), to maybe chat and play games with him before she catches a few hours of sleep on his surprisingly comfortable sofa.
No, she won't think about running her fingers through his damp hair or tracing the Blue Lion tattoo that peeks out of his shirt collar or feeling his breath warming her face or press her lips against his like she's wanted to do for years.
No, she won't think about damaging almost a decade of friendship for a kiss he might not want.
(But what if he...does?)
Pidge changes into the clothes Lance provided - an old, baggy t-shirt and a pair of soccer shorts with drawstrings she has to tie very securely - and brushes her teeth with a toothbrush she finds under the sink buried in a stockpile of beauty and hygiene products. She leaves her hair in its ponytail and figures it’ll be one problem to tackle in the morning.
She emerges from the bathroom and heads straight for the kitchen, intent on the snack she craved enough to leave her own apartment to drive to Target in the middle of a dreary winter storm. She locates a bag of bread in the fridge and pops two slices in the toaster before shrugging and helping herself to a Granny Smith apple. She cuts it up and dips the slices directly into the jar of peanut butter.
That’s how Lance finds her, sitting on the kitchen counter munching on apple slices and crunchy peanut butter right as the toaster disgorges her burnt toast.
Pidge offers him the jar. “Want some?”
Lance - looking comfortable in a bathrobe over his pajamas - stands across from her and raises an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t sharing with me.”
“I changed my mind out of the kindness of my heart,” she deadpans before her sarcasm fails and she flashes him a smile. She shakes the jar and nods at the toast. “Hope you don’t mind that it’s a little burnt?”
Lance laughs. “Lucky for you, I don’t.” He takes the slices - wincing and gasping “ah!” when they prove too hot - and drops them into a plate before grabbing a knife.
They share their snack quietly, with Lance leaning against the counter beside her. And when it’s a little too much - when his arm brushing against hers makes goosebumps rise across her skin - Pidge blurts, “Thank you.”
Lance turns to her, his eyes wide. “For…what?”
She bites her lip and stares at a fleck of peanut butter stuck to her middle finger. “For coming to get me in the middle of a storm and letting me spend the night even though I live literally ten minutes away.”
Lance smiles when she dares to glance at him. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t invite you over?”
“A…sane one, maybe.”
He snorts and walks off to wash his hands at the sink. “Good thing I’m crazy about you then.”
“Yes, good—” Pidge stares disbelievingly at the back of his head, her breath catching and heat flooding her and…yes, Lance’s ears are definitely turning red. Maybe she misheard her or just misinterpreted him. He can’t possibly have said what she thinks he did. “What?”
She holds her breath as Lance turns to face her, something intense but…familiar in his gaze, almost trapping her in place. Her heart pounds too quickly as he approaches her, one step at a time, every second dragging yet passing so fast when he stands right in front of her too soon.
“Lance,” she says, and she might’ve hated how breathy it sounds if he didn’t capture her lips in his the instant his name escaped them.
He pulls away too soon, barely giving her the chance to reciprocate, but the heat in his eyes and his body so close to hers and her own swirling thoughts and rising emotion make her slow to react, her tongue tied into knots.
Until Lance wonders in a low voice that sends a shiver up her spine, “What’re you thinking, Pidge?”
“How fitting it is that our first kiss tasted like peanut butter,” Pidge says, because for some reason that’s the first thing that popped into her head.
Lance’s jaw drops - obviously he wasn’t expecting that - but then he chuckles and asks, “Why?”
“Because I love peanut butter.” She rests her hands on his shoulders and tugs him closer until he stands between her knees within easy kissing distance.
She takes advantage of it immediately.
Pidge kisses Lance in the way she almost convinced herself she never would, hungrily, with her lips parted over his and her fingers gripping his robe. One of his hands cradles the back of her head, and the other sits on her knee, his finger only just brushing against the bare skin of her thigh under her borrowed shorts.
Her heart races as she tears away to gasp for breath before finally telling Lance, “But I love you more than peanut butter.”
“Oh, good!” exclaims Lance with a dazzling smile that she matches. But he clears his throat and flashes her a smirk. “I mean…my work here is done. I was starting to worry I’d have to break you two up.”
Pidge rolls her eyes but wraps her arms around his neck and laughs while he embraces her around the waist. She threads her fingers through his hair and listens to the sound of his steady breathing, shoving away the memory of a time she feared she’d never hear it again.
Lance shifts just enough to rest his forehead against hers. “Is there any way I can convince you to spend the night more often without sabotaging your car?” When Pidge’s eyes widen, he hurriedly adds, “Not that I did this time!”
Pidge giggles and says, “Maybe.”
His lips brush against hers as he murmurs, “Is ‘I love you too’ a good enough reason?”
Pidge’s chest is so warm she wonders how she almost froze in the rain barely an hour ago. She touches Lance’s cheek and says, “Help me replace my car’s battery. Then we’ll talk.”
#plance#pidgance#lidge#flirtyrobot#it's very late so i'll worry about proofreading in the morning#voltron#reem writes fic
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Last Call (Ethan Ramsey x MC)
A/N: I know what most could be thinking...what the hell it’s only been two chapters, but I can’t help it! I feel so much excitement and adoration for Dr. Ethan Ramsey. We don’t know much about him but ideas were popping in my head all weekend. Any details I reference about his past in this fic is original content I conceived and nothing confirmed in PB cannon. This would definitely not be apart of cannon so cannon divergence here. The song used briefly in this fic is “These Arms of Mine” by Otis Redding.
Italicized and bold:song lyrics
Italicized: internal thoughts
Summary: Dr. Ethan Ramsay takes time to reevaluate the newest intern that’s captured his attention in more ways than one, whether he wants to admit it or not.
All Rights to PB for their characters, settings, and stories. I don’t own them, I just borrow minus my MC Dr. Katrina Michaels.
All Rights to who own the song “These Arms of Mine”.
In the mischievous hours of the night Dr. Ethan Ramsey sits alone in the now barren Donahue’s nursing another drink. The place once buzzing with noise is now near sheer silence except the gentle music playing from the jukebox. The last crop of stragglers, only a few with slurring speeches make their exit. Hearing the soft thud of the door shutting he let out a mild grunt and raises his near empty glass towards the bartender.
“Last one, buddy. My knees are screaming and any minute longer I’ll be visiting you at your job versus you visiting mine.”
Reggie says as he refills the glass and then grabs a rag to clean.
“Now we can’t be having that now.” Ethan replies before taking a small gulp.
Suspicious at such warm words from the man Reggie stops wiping down the counter to look at Ethan.
“Hmm, that’s strangely kind of you-”
Before Reggie can finish his sentence Ethan cuts him off all the while looking into his diminishing drink
“Because then who will serve me drinks at my beck and call?”
His eyes shine with mirth as looks at Reggie while he takes another sip.
“You almost had me there. You’re a cheeky bastard, you know that? I should throw your ass out for that.” Reggie says while shaking his head amused.
“But you won’t because you’re too good. That’s exactly why the likes of myself don’t deserve you as friend Reg.”
“Heh, damn right. I only keep you around because you tip well.”
Ethan chuckles at the man in front of him.
“Never change, Reggie.”
“Wasn’t planning to buddy.”
The two men finish laughing when the shoosh of the door opens and a young African-American woman enters while calling over her shoulder before the door closes.
“I’m going to use the restroom and wait inside until the Lyft comes. Night everyone!”
Recognizing the voice speaking Ethan turns and sees Dr. Katrina Michaels. As she moves from the entrance and towards the back right of the bar to the restrooms his gaze follows and he retreats to his mind briefly.
“I haven’t quite figured out why but there’s something about the rookie that intrigues me.”
Reggie notices his friend is watching the woman from earlier and can already gather what could be the reason why. Being the good friend that he is Reggie decides to give his old pal a nudge in the right direction. So he taps Ethan on the shoulder to get his attention.
“Welp, I gotta clean up in the back. Keep an eye on the place for me. Especially the little lady, I’m leaving both in your capable hands.”
Ethan quirks an eyebrow at Reggie as he takes another swig and asks
“What are you getting at Reg?”
Reggie smirks to himself and shrugs his shoulders before he turns to leave Ethan alone and enters a side door near the shelves of alcohol. Ethan scoffs and continues to drink his glass of scotch enjoying the the burning sensations that slide down his throat. His thoughts lingers to earlier in the night when talking to Katrina.
“She definitely is different in the real world but on the hand not so much. I don't quite understand why this intern is different from the others. Other than proving herself capable so far but outside EdenBrook I notice that my thoughts have dawdle on her more trivial attributes. Such as her underlying fierceness or perhaps her vivaciousness. Well I suppose I can’t say I truly recognized these qualities more so I overlooked them, one such as her beauty. She truly is stunning. It makes me wonder why a woman like her spent time near me when the place was swarming with younger men. Especially asking if someone was waiting at home for me. It can’t be what I think… no I probably need to ease off the alcohol right now. Besides who would wait around for me anyway? Edie surely doesn’t anymore.”
As he sets his glass down back on the counter he hears a soft voice calling his name which removes him from his thoughts. Without turning around he says
“Hello again, rookie.”
“I’m surprised to see you still here Dr. Ramsey.” Katrina Michaels murmurs.
He turns to face the intern and replies
“I’m surprising in a lot of ways.”
She smiles and delicately places herself onto the stool that’s next to Ethan.
“You’ll have to prove that you know.”
Despite himself he smirks at her. His gunmetal blue eyes piercing into Katrina’s hazel ones. Their gazes seem to challenge yet captivate the other. There’s a comfortable yet tense air between the two until the smooth vocals of Otis Redding play from the jukebox.
“These arms of mine, they are lonely. Lonely and feeling blue. These arms of mine are yearning, yearning from wanting you...”
The song continues to play as Katrina speaks.
“You know he’s is one of my favorite artist. I used to...”
As she speaks Ethan watches the woman in front of him. He observes the way her eyes are lit up to how a rogue strand of her curly hair hangs, and even how in the dimly lit bar her smile radiates and contrasts with her beautiful coffee-hue complexion. He tries to listen to all she’s saying, now beginning to tell him about much of a fan she is. But he’s beginning to distract himself with his thoughts once more.
“Of course this song plays. Very convenient timing, I’d say. I bet Reggie had something to do with this. It’s been so long since I had someone. At this point other people would take anyone. But I could never at my stage in life. That’s why I’m here at almost one in the morning. I wonder why she’s here too, besides being young.”
Ethan breaks away from his mind to refocus back onto Katrina whose finishing up a compliment about his research.
“Katrina, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course, Dr. Ramsey.”
“First, outside of EdenBrook you may call me, Ethan.”
Katrina runs her hand through her hair before replying
“Are you sure, Dr. Ramsey?”
He rolls his eyes briefly before turning to look at his glass to take another sip of his scotch.
“Yes, rookie. You referring to me as doctor outside of the hospital makes me look a bit pretentious.”
“I think that’s your own doing, Dr. Ramsey.”
He pauses lifting his glass to meet his mouth in midair and turns to glare at her but it falters once he hears the bubbling of laughter escape her plump lips. He goes back to take a swig and places his glass back down gently.
“Sorry. I couldn’t pass that up...Ethan.”
“Now, was that really that difficult?”
“Not exactly, but it’s a bit strange. To be on first name basis with your idol.”
“I’m just a man, rookie. Not a celebrity or some god.”
Katrina turns her face away from Ethan and averts her eyes from his as she whispers
“Maybe, but you sure do have god-like looks.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t make out what you said?” curious of what she said.
“It’s not important. But you wanted to ask me something?”
“Yes I do. I happen to be thinking of what you asked me earlier in the night and wondered the same.”
“Is that so? Is there a reason why you liked to know?”
Her tone so playful with a hint of flirtation that he couldn’t decipher if he imagined it or not.
Instead of speaking he shrugs his shoulders in response.
Smiling to herself and looking down before meeting his eyes again.
“I’m just like you. No one awaiting my return.”
“Interesting.”
The fading music is more audible as the two stop speaking momentarily
“...I need somebody. Somebody to treat me right, oh. I need your arms. Loving arms to hold me tight. And I, I, I need your, I need your tender lips to hold me.”
A chime from Katrina’s cell phone breaks the silence before either one of them could.
“That’s my Lyft. It’s two minutes away so, I’m going to waiting outside.”
Ethan nods in understanding, she begins to remove herself from her seat, but still slightly tipsy she slips and falls into Ethan’s body who reacts immediately. He grasps firmly yet gently ahold of her, keeping her steady. Both freeze from the sudden contact and close parameters they are from the other.
Katrina can see Ethan’s adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat and he thinks to himself while staring at Katrina.
“I suddenly have the urge to gently brush the curls away from her beautiful eyes and...I need to stop this instant. It’s late and I am feeling a bit lonely but I’m beginning to enter a dangerous area. This would lead to an H.R. nightmare. I can’t let myself get tangled with the matters of the heart. Especially with my, ahem, the rookie. God, I need to lay off the sauce for a while.”
He’s pulled from his thoughts when Katrina removes herself from his arms.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it, rookie.”
“Is that going to be a permanent thing? Even outside of work?”
“What?”
“Rookie. I mean you’ve called me by my first name earlier tonight even when I thought you didn’t even know it, much less remember it nor care to.”
“I’ve told you. I’m observant...rookie. Does that answer your question?” He says smirking at her.
Rolling her eyes she moves to make her way to the exit.
“Yes it does. And you deny that you’re favoring me.”
“I’ll let you believe what you want. Even if it’s a silly notion.”
“Whatever you say, Dr. Ramsey” she purrs.
Ethan feels his heart rate increase briefly. Before he can respond, she speaks up.
“My ride should be here now. I’ll see you around Dr. Rams- I mean Ethan.”
She rubs her hand obsessively through her hair before giving him a quick wave as she inches closer to the door.
“For whatever reason my name leaving her lips sounds right. As the same for hers. Katrina. Ka-tri-na. I’d like to say it more than just in my...Okay enough. I must stick with calling her rookie. That’s what's...what’s safe.
Katrina opens the door which pulls Ethan out and he speaks for the final time
“Have a good night...Katrina. Get home safe.”
She stops at hearing her name being used and turns back around and grins wide at Ethan.
“You too.” she steps outside and calls back to Ethan.
“Maybe once I’ve graduated from rookie or you tire of it, you can call me Kat. Whichever comes first.”
Without another word or glance she walks out the door.
Ethan is left staring at the spot she was occupying before turning his attention back to his glass. He drains the rest of his drink and retreats into his thoughts.
“So much for playing it safe. Then again, what’s life without a few risks.”
#Dr. Ethan Ramsey#ethan ramsey#ethan ramsey x mc#open heart choices#playchoices#choices fanfiction#choices stories you play#choices app#Open Heart
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family first and always - poly!q.kun+s.jh
✿ NCT’s Kun & Johnny x Female!Reader (mentions of Jaehyun + Poly!Norenmin X Female!reader) ✿ Fluffy but also and angsty boi ✿ 1.4k Words ✿ For: Eden ✿ Written by Chii
because this was rlly too long as a blurb of its own and has too much drama to comprehend! Kind of a prequel to this blurb but honestly can be read before or after - Chii
It wasn’t hard to sneak out of the house for a bit to meet up with him. At first, you didn’t want to but eventually, you gave in and just wanted to get it over with. This conversation was going to happen eventually. You prepared yourself outside the fancy restaurant and took a deep breath. Tears pricked at your eyes, you didn’t want to see him again, not after he left you and your daughter. The tears in your eyes were also tears of fear. You didn’t want to lose the perfect family you bad built up with your angel, Kun and Johnny. There would be so much at stake if you walked through the doors right now. A part of you wanted to call back the taxi and have it drive you home to where there was warmth and endless love, not coldness and stoic faces like in the restaurant.
You turned your heels to run away, again. You felt yourself at shame. Before you could even take a step back, you came face to face with Kun and Johnny. Your brows furrowed as you stared at them, they both gave you a gentle smile before Johnny spoke up.
“We many have interrogated a little birdy to tell us what was going on,” Johnny said as he held Kun’s hand. Kun nodded and looked at you lovingly. If the occasion wasn’t so tense he would have showered you with compliments about how beautiful you looked, Aphrodite herself was radiating off of you under the moonlight.
“Where is she?” you were referring to your daughter. You knew they wouldn’t leave her alone but you couldn’t think of anyone that would be up this late to babysit her.
“I called up Renjun and the ‘little birdy. Jeno and Jaemin are also over watching her. I already fed her and tucked her in,” you let out a sigh of relief. You looked at the two who towered over you and had nothing but smiles on their faces. You felt recharged. You took either of their arms and walked through the door.
“I’m here for Jaehyun but don’t bother setting another glass out, I won’t be here for a long time,” you said to the host. She nodded and eyed the two men behind you before walking you to where Jaehyun was sitting. His face lit up but darkened at the sight of your two current lovers.
“What are they doing here?” Jaehyun stood up defensively.
“Sit your ass down Jung Jaehyun,” the aggressive tone Kun carried surprised both you and Johnny.
“We’re here to set things straight, once and for all so you can leave us alone.” Kun spoke with an unknowing anger in his voice. Johnny held into Kun’s hand and rubbed his thumb across his knuckles. Jaehyun sighed and sat back in his seat.
“What do you want so badly that you had to visit me at work?” You said while you stared him down.
“He what?” Johnny said. It was Kun’s turn to calm him down.
“I just want my daughter,” he said simply while he took a sip of his wine. You could feel Kun’s grip on your hand tighten. You opened your mouth to speak but Johnny was way ahead of you.
“You made the choice to leave and we're here picking up your slack. Don't think just because she's your daughter means anything but that title." Johnny said harshly. Jaehyun gawked at the words that came out of Johnny’s mouth.
“She’s still my daughter, biologically,” Jaehyun scoffed and rolled his eyes. With the way he was acting and how he acted before, you knew she wouldn’t be remotely happy with Jaehyun.
"She's not mine biologically but she's mine in heart, mind and spirit. she's my little girl.”
“You’ve really reeled in two softies haven’t you?” Jaehyun said as he leaned on the table and poured himself another glass.
“Better than someone with no heart,” you snapped back quickly. The two at your side sat back, you rarely ever lost your cool but when you did, you didn’t hold back. They knew what was coming so they just sat back with a smug look on their faces.
“That hurt Y/N,” Jaehyun clenched his chest and laughed.
“I’m not giving up my family to someone like you,” you said while gripping the hands of Johnny and Kun tighter.
“And what is someone like me?” You stood up suddenly and pointed at him.
“Heartless, she doesn’t deserve to go through what I did and by god, I will do everything in my power to make sure she never does,” you started to walk out. Leaving the three males at the table. You could hear Jaehyun screaming your name, causing a commotion in the restaurant while Kun and Johnny caught up with you. You were halfway into the parking lot before the two ran up to you. You turned to them with tears in your eyes.
“He just thinks he can ruin our family like that?” Tears started to fall from your eyes. Kun was the first to take action and cup your face and wipe your tears away with his thumbs. Johnny used his long arms to encase you both in a hug.
“Let’s go home,” Kun said as he glared at Jaehyun who was at the entrance of the restaurant. Johnny walked you to the car they took to drive over. You called an Uber earlier. Kun kept the most intense eye contact with Jaehyun as Johnny buckled in and made sure you were feeling alright. It was only with the soft calling of his name by you did he break the glare and walk to the car. He sat in the backseat quietly and obviously still angry at the man who just tried to rip away his little girl.
“You’re back,” you looked at Renjun who was on the couch. His girlfriend on his lap sleeping and the two other boys cuddled up with each other on the loveseat. He saw your gaze drop to the girl on his lap. Jeno just woke up and rubbed his eyes, he sent a smile to the three adults in front of him before stretching.
“She wanted me to tell you she’s sorry,” he said while placing his hand on her ear to avoid waking her up.
“Tell her she’s lucky that she’s practically my second daughter,” you smiled as Renjun nodded and continued to pet her head.
“I’ll get the others up and we’ll leave,” Johnny stopped Renjun from trying to wake the sleeping girl.
“I’ll drive you guys home,” Johnny said. Jeno nodded and picked the girl off of Renjun’s lap. Renjun went to wake up Jaemin while Jeno slipped his shoes on haphazardly.
“I’m going to cool down,” Kun said before he gave you stressed look and walked into the corridor. You bid the three boys a goodnight and gave Johnny a quick kiss before you closed the door for him. Once you heard the car leave the driveway, you walked to find Kun. It didn’t take you long to find him standing in the doorway of your daughters room. His arms folded and the doorframe supporting his body. The moonlight shone past her curtains and onto Kun’s face that was unreadable.
“I don’t know who he thinks he is. Trying to take her away from us when he left you two,” Kun spoke softly. You sighed and let your arms wrap around his waist. You felt his body soften and him leaning back on your touch.
“Nothing is going to take her away from us Kun, we’re a family,” you softly said.
“I can’t imagine my life not watching her grow up, I can’t imagine my with without either of you,” Kun rarely got sentimental but behind every word he said, you believed him without a doubt. The two of you stood there for a while in silence, a million things going through your minds. The sound of the car door closing knocked you both out of your state and eyeing the front door for Johnny to come through. Once he did, he smiled at the two of you and walked to where you two were.
“Mommy? Daddies? What are you doing here?” The faint voice of your child broke you three apart and caused you all to look at your daughter.
The two let go of you as you walked towards your baby girl’s bed and give her a kiss on her forehead, “I came to wish you good night, I didn’t before I left.”
“Good night, mommy,” she said sleepily before clutching her sheep plushie and going back to sleep.
“We’ll be okay,” Johnny said reassuringly while bringing Kun to his side and reaching his hand for yours.
also by ass couldnt help but throw in norenmin lol imwhippedhelpme - Chii
#for: eden#chii#nct scenario#nct scenarios#nct angst#Nct fluff#nct blurb#nct blurbs#nct imagine#nct imagines#johnny scenarios#johnny scenario#johnny imagine#johnny imagines#johnny blurb#johnny blurbs#johnny fluff#Johnny angst#poly!johnny#poly!kun#Husband!Johnny#Husband!Kun#kun scenarios#kun scenario#kun imagine#kun imagines#kun fluff#Kun angst#kun blurb#kun blurbs
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Love Yourself (Chapter 32)
title: Love Yourself
summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista.
chapter words: 17k story words: 267k (so far) chapter: 32/?
rating: m warnings: language, alcohol, sex mentions, some bi/homophobia, eventual explicit smut, some depression, consensual d/s undertones
genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn
[[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]
a/n: um so this is like a month overdue... but it's long af. and i've cut down what was going to go in this chapter. i hope it is worth the wait <3 massive thanks as always to @auroraphilealis for being my biffle, beta, and cheerleader. she's been by my side as a beat this chapter to death and listened to a million rambles of why it was important to me to keep it all together (which i only mostly ended up doing) and other pretentious shit. she's wonderful xx
note: this chapter contains more explicit themes than past ones. unlike past chapters, outside of the marked smut, there is risque material. skim at your own discretion if you are uncomfortable, but it wasn't set up in a way i could mark
By the time filming had finally ended, Dan felt emotionally fucking exhausted. Being so open and honest on national television, and having to be so careful with his words, had drained him of just about everything. There wasn’t an ounce of propriety left in him, and at this point, all he wanted was to be taken care of and not have to fucking think for a little bit.
Letting go — whatever that meant — was impossible on set. From the second he’d finished performing his song and had ducked backstage, he’d been craving a hug from Phil — a proper hug, not the one-armed bro-hug Phil had given him. But stagehands were running everywhere, and there didn’t seem to be a bloody centimeter of privacy, so Dan resisted. The minute he got in the uber, he could collapse against Phil.
But for now, resting his foot against Phil’s as he stood behind the stage wall would have to suffice. Dan closed his eyes, replaying his interview in his head as he listened to the loud hum of the audience laughing and applauding and — holy fuck. He’d actually just done that. He’d actually talked about his most personal matters, something he’d taken great lengths to keep secret, in front of all of those people. The studio held what? Two hundred people?
Two hundred people who were now privy to Dan’s rambling thoughts about sexuality and boxes, who now had a whole fountain of knowledge about Dan’s sexual and romantic preferences. Two hundred people who had seen Dan be open and vulnerable and honest.
The gravity of the interview smacked Dan in the face, and that’s when he realized, really truly realized, that those two hundred people were just the beginning. In a few short hours, that interview would play on national American tv, would stream on youtube worldwide. And sure, he had known that while he was filming, but he hadn’t known. Not in the way it was all hitting him now.
Dan swallowed thickly and let his hand brush against Phil’s. He wanted out of here. He wanted a hug. He wanted to think about anything other than this interview, his fate, his audience, just for a little bit anyway.
The twenty minutes it took to get an all clear lasted about five years. Dan was so on edge and ready to leave that he was already ordering a car before a stagehand had even finished dismissing them. Without waiting for proper goodbyes, Dan seized Phil’s wrist and dragged him out of the studio, down the lift, out the back door — and not the back door that fans often waited for celebrities at, either.
Dan felt a wave of relief rush through him when he burst out of the exit and found a black car already stalled next to the curb. Rushing over to the car, Dan wrenched open the back door and ushered Phil inside.
The relief coursing through Dan’s veins ran cold when the driver greeted him though. The way he confirmed Dan’s name, the breathlessness in his voice and the distinct spark in his eye — they were the unmistakable signs that someone recognized him.
Perhaps the ride back to the hotel wouldn’t be as relaxing as Dan had hoped.
Still, Dan shuffled in after Phil, leaving the full space of the middle seat between them. And less than a block later, Dan’s hunch was proven right when the driver asked which show he had been recording for at Rockefeller Center.
Not wanting to actually engage with this stranger, Dan grunted a reply and made a show of putting in his headphones, even though he didn’t actually play any music. It may have been rude, but it worked. The driver didn’t ask any follow up questions.
Of course, that didn’t stop his gaze from flickering into the rear view mirror every other bloody second. Dan felt like an animal in a glass box, on display and on edge. Phil was right there, but Dan didn’t feel like he could reach out, not under such intense observation.
Like Dan had told himself and Phil and Louise a million times, tonight was about talking about bisexuality, about giving that topic all the attention it deserved, not about him and Phil. The last thing Dan wanted was to have their relationship inadvertently outed by a random crew member or uber driver.
So Dan held back. Instead of sinking into his boyfriend’s side and letting himself get lost in Phil, Dan stayed on his side of the backseat and fell prey to one of the most volatile coping strategies he had — the internet.
Dan googled the average number of viewers of The Tonight Show and discovered it was over two million a night — and that wasn’t including the extra views that youtube brought in. And that, naturally, brought Dan to his next google search, where he discovered that The Tonight Show’s youtube channel had a whopping nineteen million subscribers. Subscribers who would undoubtedly have access to Dan’s rants about bisexuality, and his recently failed relationship, in just a few hours time.
Overwhelmed by the sheer significance of everything, Dan spread his legs obnoxiously far apart so that one knee pressed into Phil’s. Phil nudged back deliberately, a silent reassurance of his presence, a subtle demonstration of his support.
It wasn’t the bear hug Dan craved, but it was enough for now. The slight pressure of Phil’s leg against his own helped Dan stay grounded as he switched gears and fell down a wikipedia black hole about most viewed celebrity interviews. Unsurprisingly, videos about famous entertainers coming out were high on the list.
Right. No pressure there.
By the time the car pulled up to the hotel, Dan’s desire for real physical contact had developed into flat out desperation. He just needed this goddamn weight to ease back for a fucking minute.
Without waiting for Phil, Dan hiked his backpack over his shoulder and bolted into the hotel, through the lobby, and straight to the lifts.
It seemed to take bloody forever for a lift to actually arrive, but it took even longer for Phil to catch up. Dan had to pass on two elevators before he finally saw Phil entering the hotel, lumbering awkwardly across the lobby, weighed down with Dan’s guitar.
Oops.
In Dan’s haste to make it to their room, he’d forgotten that his guitar — his favorite guitar — was in the trunk. Eyeing Phil’s lopsided stance, Dan grimaced and took a small step towards him.
“Sorry,” Dan said apologetically as he pressed the up button for the third time. “Lemme take that,” he offered, reaching out for the worn handle of his guitar case.
With absolutely none of the coordination that Dan had developed over the years, Phil switched the guitar to his opposite hand, suddenly making it much harder for Dan to easily swipe it out of his grip.
“Phillll,” Dan whined, reaching across Phil’s body for the handle.
“Dannnnnn,” Phil retaliated as he stuck his tongue out and held the guitar even further out of Dan’s reach. His bicep was quaking, and his body definitely wasn’t used to the extra awkwardly large weight, but Dan couldn’t help appreciating how fucking sexy it was that, for the first time in ages, he had someone that was willing — determined, even — to carry Dan’s shit.
The bell on another lift finally dinged, and the doors opened. Dan’s attention snapped from Phil’s playful face to the empty lift. Relief rushing in just by the sheer presence of the lift, Dan gestured for Phil to take the lead. Luckily, it was that in-between time of night when most people were at dinner or something of the sort, and they had the lift to themselves. Dan took advantage of the brief moment of privacy and stepped in close to Phil, his knuckles gently brushing against Phil’s hand, the loving fingers that were inexpertly wrapped around the handle of Dan’s heavy guitar.
“Thanks,” Dan murmured, the teasingly childish tone suddenly vanishing, and a disgustingly sweet one taking over. In what he hoped wasn’t too cheesy of a move, Dan closed the small distance between them and pressed a chaste kiss to Phil’s cheek.
Brows furrowed, Phil cocked his head at Dan. “Dan, it’s just a guitar, I don’t mind.”
“Mmm,” Dan hummed, stepping back to his place. He watched the numbers climb as they passed floor after floor, observing Phil out of the corner of his eye. Phil was quiet, but shot Dan an odd look, his expression a mix of pointed and sad. It utterly baffled Dan for a second — until he remembered their conversation from yesterday morning, that was.
Phil didn’t have to say a word, Dan could practically hear him pointing out that his reaction was a bit unhealthy. Appreciation was fine, sure, but the amount of surprise he felt at a partner doing something so simplistically nice probably didn’t speak highly of his past relationships.
Wanting out of that moment before Phil could force Dan to properly think about his reaction, Dan darted out of the lift as soon as the doors opened and hurried down the hallway. Behind him, Phil’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, pausing just out of reach when Dan came to a halt outside of their door and fumbled to find his room key.
Maybe nerves or exhilaration or exhaustion was still gripping Dan, or maybe it was the knowledge that he had Phil and a hotel room and a foreign city all to himself tonight, but it took him three tries of swiping their card before the light finally flickered green.
The click of the latch was a wave of relief, and Dan found himself shoving their door open with far more force and enthusiasm than was necessary. Without waiting for Phil, Dan barrelled into their room and crossed the space in three quick strides, coming to a stop in front of their bed and spinning around to stare impatiently at Phil.
Fucking finally, they were alone.
Phil was a few steps behind him, and didn’t seem to have any of the urgency that Dan had. Dan watched anxiously as Phil walked towards him at the pace of an impregnated, fat sloth. Carefully, and ungodly slowly, Phil sat the guitar down in front of the bed and finally, finally his hands were free.
Dan didn’t wait for Phil to straighten up before launching himself into Phil’s arms, physically demanding to be held. The sudden weight of Dan threw Phil off balance, causing him to stumble backwards towards the bed.
“Oi,” Phil gasped as he tumbled to the bed, just barely managing to not fall all the way onto his back under Dan’s momentum. Even as he fell, his hands landed on Dan’s hips and pulled him down to the bed too. Just for a moment, Dan found himself awkwardly leaning into Phil, not quite sitting, not quite standing.
With a flustered giggle, Dan shifted his body so he was straddling Phil’s lap instead. Dan’s hands slid up from Phil’s waist, and looped around his neck, finally pulling him into the private and intimate embrace Dan had been dying for.
“Well hello there,” Phil greeted, his hands dipping under the hem of Dan’s jumper, his fingers thumbing over the jut of Dan’s hipbone. Phil’s voice was low, and his touch was sultry, and Dan couldn’t hold back a shaky sigh. He felt so damn needy, and the soft drag of Phil’s fingers on his bare skin was already quieting his screaming mind some.
Dan shifted back up, just enough so that he could look Phil in the eye. The cheeky and smug look on Phil’s face wasn’t surprising — maybe someday Phil would stop looking so satisfied about the reactions he pulled from Dan, but they clearly weren’t there yet.
“Hi,” Dan responded with a smile, not even bothering to hide the effect Phil was having on him. Dan tipped his head forward, closing the small distance between them, and pressed his lips to Phil’s.
Despite Phil’s teasing tone, he let Dan take what he wanted, matching Dan kiss for kiss and touch for touch. Dan wasn’t sure who licked whose lips first, who opened their mouth for who first. He did, however, realize that it only took a short minute for them to escalate from sweet kisses to proper snogging.
Before they could get too carried away, Dan pulled back, panting slightly. Even though he needed a decent lung capacity for singing, it seemed that kissing Phil for two minutes stole his breath in a way that a long high note never could.
“Where’s — the room service — menu?” Dan asked, his words coming in pants as his gaze drifted to the bedside table and then the desk, searching for a helpful booklet.
Phil fingers slipped down from the middle of Dan’s waist to the low hem of his pants. His brows furrowed and he cocked his head to the side. “Why?” he asked.
Huffing an exaggerated sigh, Dan shot Phil an incredulous look. “Because I’ve had a crazy fucking day and would like to let loose a little…?” After knowing Phil for nearly three full months, Dan was rather surprised to have to point out the obvious to him.
“Well yeah,” Phil huffed and cleared his throat. His pupils were blown wide, and now it was Dan’s turn to feel pleased with himself; he might be a mess from two minutes of kissing Phil, but Phil was just as flustered after two minutes of kissing Dan. “I know that much.” Phil rolled his eyes and slid his hands out of Dan’s trousers to a less scandalous spot, tracing his thumbs lightly Dan’s prominent hip bones. “I just meant, I’m surprised that you don’t want to go out since we only have a few nights here.”
Dan shrugged, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as he contemplated Phil’s comment. He’d definitely had some great nights in the bars of New York, but they’d all come with the unfortunate price tag of at least half a dozen paparazzi photos. That wasn’t what Dan wanted tonight — tonight he just wanted Phil.
Tentatively, Dan let his hands drift from Phil’s shoulders up to his bare neck, his thumbs softly rubbing along Phi’s pulse points. “I mean… It’s not that I don’t want to enjoy New York, I just…” Dan couldn’t help the way his gaze drifted down from Phil’s, landing instead on his lips. Coyly — or at least he hoped it was coy and sexy — Dan slipped his hands down Phil’s neck and under the collar of his button-up shirt. “I’d rather not be bothered by a fan or the media tonight, ya know?” Just in case the meaning behind his words wasn’t clear enough, Dan dipped his thumb further down Phil’s shirt and grazed his collarbone suggestively.
“Mmm, that’s fair,” Phil murmured. Taking Dan’s lead, Phil’s hands nudged up higher on Dan’s hips, pushing his leather jacket and tight jumper up even higher so Phil’s fingers could brush over the bare skin near the top of Dan’s ribs. “But what if I told you I knew a place where we’d be left alone?”
Cocking an eyebrow, Dan straightened up. He’d been in New York. He’d been to elite clubs, he’d been to dive bars, he’d been to locals only restaurants — and on every occasion, he’d been photographed. In his experience, this was a city of famous people, and in turn, that meant it was a city of photographs and tabloids, a city of journalists searching for their next break.
“What kind of place is this?” Dan asked skeptically.
“Well,” Phil bit his lip, suddenly looking a little hesitant. “Technically it’s a gay club. But the standard cover is high enough to keep out most fans, and they’ve got an absurd amount of security, just in case.”
“How do you know about a place like that?” Dan pried; he’d been to New York half a dozen times and he’d never heard of any exclusive gay clubs. But even as Dan questioned Phil’s knowledge, he could feel the excitement growing in his stomach. He hadn’t been to a proper gay bar since he was seventeen, and never with a partner — at least not someone who wasn’t just a fling. He couldn’t deny that the idea was hotter than hell.
“Oh. Uh, well,” Phil shrugged awkwardly, sounding shifty. His eyes darted away from Dan’s, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Another gay youtuber has a friend who is a bouncer there?” he explained, but he sounded so unsure that it came out as a question.
Dan eyed Phil suspiciously. “How jealous should I be of this guy right now?”
“Of Tyler? Not at all. No way. Never.” Phil shook his head vehemently, his gaze flicking back to Dan.
“And Tyler is…?” Dan prompted slowly, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head.
“He’s just a casual friend who lives in LA. We collaborate when we’re in the same city,” Phil shrugged.
Dan narrowed his eyes skeptically. “And the bouncer?” he pushed, sensing that there was something that Phil wasn’t admitting.
Phil’s gaze shifted to the side again, his cheeks growing red. The grip on Dan’s chest slipped, Phil’s hands dropping down to the base of Dan’s hips.
Dan’s heart followed Phil’s hands, plummeting down into his stomach and then somehow sinking even further. Just from Phil’s reaction, Dan knew he’d figured it out.
“It was one time and really didn’t matter,” Phil admitted, sounding defeated, embarrassed. “But he’ll let us both in for free and there won’t be cameras there.”
Dan was surprised to find that he wasn’t just jealous, he was almost repulsed. His stomach churned as his brain supplied images of Phil and some gorgeous boy tangled in bed together, making him feel nauseous.
“I’m not sure I want to meet a guy you’ve fucked,” Dan said, aiming for teasing and joking, but as soon as he said it, he was sure the insecurity shined through. “I mean, what if he’s cuter than me?” Dan chuckled half-heartedly, doing his best to salvage his dignity. He really didn’t want Phil to think he was a jealous dick or clingy or something else completely annoying. Even if it was kind of true.
Phil laughed — genuinely laughed, not an awkward chuckle like before. “First off,” he started, his voice actually light and humorous, not forced casual like Dan’s. “There’s no way anyone has ever, or could ever, be cuter than you. Not that I'm aiming to find someone else.” As if to prove his point, Phil’s fingers dipped into Dan’s jeans and pointedly hooked under his pants. It wasn’t just a little this time; now Phil’s hands were properly inside of Dan’s pants, his fingers inching towards more intimate parts of Dan’s body. “And second off,” Phil continued, “I suffered through two months of knowing you were sleeping with someone else. I think five seconds of interaction with a random guy I slept with a year ago doesn’t compare.”
“Uh!!” Dan gasped in protest, his voice high pitched and offended. “I didn’t sleep with her for the last month and you know it!”
“Yeah, now I know,” Phil agreed begrudgingly. “But I didn’t then and I was so damn envious.” Phil licked his lips slowly. “Plus,” he added, his voice lower and gruff. “You were sleeping with her in the beginning, and I had to watch you come in with marks all up and down your neck that proved it.” As if to make his point, Phil dragged his fingers along Dan’s sensitive neck possessively, thumbing over the spot where coverup was hiding a hickey on Dan’s pulse point.
Dan’s stomach twisted in reaction, and a shiver ran down his back — whether it was the clear jealous attitude or the cursing that was turning him on, he wasn’t sure. There was a part of him that was willing to forfeit embracing any amount of New York tonight, that wanted to rock his hips forward and show Phil just how little reason he had to be jealous now, to take full advantage of the nice hotel room they had.
“Come on, let me take you out, buy you a few drinks. Maybe a nice dinner first, if you’re hungry,” Phil pleaded.
There was another part of Dan — an unexpectedly bigger part of him — that was itching to go out with Phil, to find a different way to show Phil that Dan was all his, even if it wasn’t the approach he was used to. And besides, after so many months of being dragged out by his ex, something in Dan couldn’t help finding the fact that Phil wanted to take him out, just for the sake of being together, incredibly sexy.
“Alright,” Dan agreed, conceding even as he let his hips suggestively rock against Phil’s just once — he couldn’t resist, not if he wasn’t going to have the chance to do so for a while. “We should definitely have something to eat first, though. I haven’t eaten nearly enough today and I reckon I’ll be drunk after half a cocktail if we don’t get food.”
“Fair enough,” Phil agreed as his hands slipped out of Dan’s pants, lightly gripping Dan’s hips and guiding him backwards. Tilting slightly to the side, Phil fished his phone out of his back pocket. “What kind of food do you want, then?”
“Doesn’t matter. Something with a view of the city might be nice,” Dan suggested with a small shrug. Sliding all the way off Phil’s lap, Dan made his way to the mirror, fluffing at his hair. The makeup from earlier still looked nice; the eyeliner wasn’t smudgy and the color on his cheeks still seemed to accentuate his features. Eyes meeting Phil in the mirror, Dan added, “Nowhere so fancy we can’t wear the clothes we’re wearing to the club, though.”
He knew if they had to come back to the hotel to change there was no way Phil was convincing him to leave again.
“I know just the place,” Phil said decisively, his gaze turning back to his phone.
*******
Less than an hour later, an uber was dropping Dan and Phil just outside of Times Square with an apology that they couldn’t get them any closer to their destination. During what felt like an infinitely-long car ride for Dan’s curious nerves, Phil had refused to tell Dan where he was taking him, and for a split second, Dan had been worried Phil was going to usher him to one of the hot dog or pizza carts littered around the square before leading him to a bench to people watch.
Not that Dan was strictly opposed to street food — he certainly didn’t want Phil to splurge on another fancy meal so soon after their last date. But also, he’d learned from experience what some vendors’ food will do to stomachs, and if they were planning to head to a club later that night, they should at least try to spare themselves diarrhea and food poisoning.
Phil took a hard right before they made it to the throngs of people though, his hand on Dan’s lower back to guide him in the right direction. The sudden turn led them… into the valet entrance to the Marriott?
Dan turned to look at Phil, but his face was perfectly neutral. “Phil, did you bring us halfway across Manhattan to eat at a different hotel’s restaurant?” Dan asked dubiously, letting Phil lead him through the revolving doors and into the hotel lobby.
“Yeah, we’re going to eat at the touristy hotel bar of a place we aren’t even staying,” Phil responded sarcastically. His hand dropped from Dan’s back, something that disappointed Dan until he followed Phil’s gaze to a gaggle of teenagers across the lobby. “Just trust me, Howell,” Phil teased, flashing Dan a coy smile as he pressed the call button for the lift, the doors immediately opening.
“If you insist,” Dan smirked, stepping into the lift after Phil. “You’re on thin ice though, Lester.” Despite the mock-warning in his voice, Dan quickly closed the gap between them when the doors closed and pressed a quick kiss to Phil’s cheek.
The doors parted again just seconds later, letting them out at the third floor. Confidently, Phil led them down the hallway, only to stop in front of another set of lifts. Dan cocked an eyebrow but wordlessly followed Phil as the doors to the next lift opened.
“Those only go to hotel rooms past this floor,” Phil cryptically explained as he pressed the button for the forty-eighth floor. This ride was longer, giving Phil enough time to lean in and kiss Dan on the lips. “I can’t promise this place will be free of photographers, so get it out of your system.”
Despite his giggles, Dan leaned forward and captured Phil’s lips with his own, this time lingering long enough to capture Phil’s lower lip between his teeth, long enough to nip at the soft and sensitive flesh inside Phil’s mouth. Long enough to reach for Phil’s hips and slip his fingers beneath Phil’s clothes, suggestively thumbing across the bare skin of Phil’s waist.
“Mmff!” Phil let out a throaty noise halfway between a moan and a reprimand, as he pulled back from Dan’s kiss.
“What?” Dan asked innocently, even as he let his fingers drift towards Phil’s arse. “You said to get it out of my system.”
“Well I didn’t think you’d feel me up in a lift,” Phil shot back snarkily.
“Mmmm,” Dan hummed. “Maybe I could resist feeling my boyfriend up in a lift if he didn’t look so damn gorgeous.” Dan eyed the denim jacket Phil was wearing, his gaze lingering on the fitted shirt covered with tiny pale flowers that was buttoned up all the way to his Adam’s apple, drawing Dan’s attention to Phil’s neck. The deep, pinot-noir purple stood out starkly against Phil’s pale skin, bringing out his eyes and making him look unfairly quirky and sexy at the same time.
The bell dinged and the doors parted, cutting off Phil’s reply. Dan snapped his mouth shut, but let himself continue eying Phil as he exited the lift — he could only do so much to tamp down his blatant arousal tonight, when Phil looked like that.
Phil didn’t hesitate to stride up to the host stand and give his name — that was something Dan was still getting used to, a partner being willing to take the lead in moments like this. It was proving to be far hotter than Dan had ever expected it to be.
Dan was still processing everything when the hostess started leading them towards a table. The restaurant seemed to form a circle around the lifts, and all of the exterior walls were replaced with grand windows overlooking the New York skyline.
Dan had only gotten one foot on the raised platform before Phil’s hands were softly gripping his shoulders. It was a good thing, too; Dan was fairly certain he would have fallen if Phil hadn’t steadied him. Beneath their feet, the platform was moving.
“What the…?” Dan breathed, baffled by the way the top step was moving but the bottom wasn’t.
“Look outside,” Phil murmured, his voice just centimeters from Dan’s ear. Following Phil’s suggestion, Dan glanced out the nearest window. Now that Dan was looking closer, the city around them seemed to be shifting slightly, and it took him a moment to realize that it was the restaurant that was rotating ever so slowly, not the skyscrapers outside.
“Holy shit,” Dan mumbled quietly, coming to a halt when the hostess gestured to a small table along one of the massive windows.
Dan sat, too captivated by the view of this foreign city to pay attention to the muted conversation Phil was having with the woman. Outside, Dan could see building after building, could see the moon rising over the water. It was a spectacular view, and judging by the slow rotation, it was only a portion of what he was going to see tonight.
It wasn’t until Phil’s knee gently bumped against his that Dan tore his gaze away from the window and turned back to face his boyfriend instead.
“When did you have time to make a reservation?” Dan asked stupidly, his brain still struggling to wrap itself around the amazingly gorgeous restaurant Phil had brought him to.
“While you were primping for tonight,” Phil teased. His hand slid across the table just enough to brush his knuckles across the back of Dan’s hand.
Dan’s hand, the one that wasn’t just barely touching Phil, flew up to self-consciously pat his curly hair.
“Stop,” Phil gently ordered. “You look good. Really good. Primping time was well used.”
Dan’s hand fell back to the table, his thumb immediately tapping out a mindless rhythm. He couldn’t believe Phil had taken the twenty minutes of downtime to book them a window-side table. “You’re amazing,” Dan sighed, awe dripping from his voice. “Seriously amazing.”
Phil tilted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulder as he flashed Dan a cheeky grin. “That is what they call me,” he said playfully.
“Oh fuck off,” Dan huffed, unable to stop the wide smile that spread across his face and the way his hand pressed against Phil’s. Teenage Phil really had picked out the perfect username for himself — amazing was by far the best word to describe him.
Dan’s gaze drifted back to the window. The view was slowly twisting so that they could see more and more of the river. The water was twinkling, reflecting both the moon and the bright lights of the city.
“Wait,” Dan exclaimed suddenly, his head whipping from the window to Phil. “Don’t you get motion sickness?”
Phil shrugged, a soft smile on his face. “Usually. But the restaurant moves so slowly that it won’t bother me as long as I don’t look outside for too long.”
Huffing a small sigh, Dan frowned slightly. “We could have gone to a restaurant where the view wouldn’t make you sick,” Dan pointed out.
“We could have,” Phil agreed easily. “But I knew you’d like this one.”
“Oh,” Dan mumbled quietly, a smile pulling at his lips. He turned his attention to the menu, if for no other reason than an easy excuse for hiding the blush that was flushing his cheeks. Phil ignored his dinner menu in favor of the black, leather-bound drink book on the table.
“Does your hatred for white wine extend to champagne, as well?” Phil asked idly, not looking up from the menu he was studying.
“Definitely not,” Dan denied vehemently, smiling stupidly at the thought of Phil ordering them champagne. “Champagne is its own branch of alcohol and it’s wonderful.”
“Good,” Phil folded the alcohol menu primly, and looked back up at Dan. “Because you were truly exceptional tonight, and deserve to be spoiled.”
“Phi-illlll,” Dan whined, bringing his menu up to hide the redness of his face with such force that it accidentally smacked him in the nose. His stomach tightened at the compliment, a shiver ran down his spine.
“Oh I forgot,” Phil said innocuously, his voice far too knowing to actually be innocent. “Does someone have a bit of a praise kink?” Phil continued with fake-casualness, his voice low and quiet. Husky. Sexy.
Dan dropped his forehead to the table with a resounding thunk, the menu shifting to cover the back of his head as his hands shielded his face from Phil’s view. “You aren’t supposed to take advantage of that in public.”
“Oops!” Phil laughed, actually laughed, as he kicked a foot out to nudge Dan’s. “Sit up and pick out what you want for an appetizer, babe.”
Slightly mortified, and more than a little flustered, Dan rose up again, his gaze steadfastly fixed on his menu. It was a fruitless effort, though — he could feel Phil’s eyes boring into him, which did nothing to calm his pounding heart and swooping stomach.
He realized they’d been handed a prix-fixe menu, meaning they would each get three courses for the flat rate of… holy shit. Eighty nine dollars.
At this rate, it was getting hard to tell if Phil’s tastes in restaurants was just as fancy as Dan’s, or if he was trying far too hard to impress him. In the months that Dan had gotten to know Phil, he’d learned that Phil was generally somewhat frugal — though never to a fault. In his business and personal life, Phil was always conscious about how he earned and spent his money. That hardly seemed in line with the extravagant dinners he was taking Dan to.
“Phil,” Dan started carefully, planning to test the waters and see if Phil would want to switch to the normal menu, one where they could share an appetizer and skip dessert (and shave a few dollars off the bill).
“Hush up and choose your appetizer, Howell,” Phil said without looking up from his own menu.
“Fine, I will, but…” Dan trailed off, his eyes darting out the window to avoid looking at Phil for a second before drifting back.
Phil folded his menu in front of him and looked at Dan with an unreadable stare. “But what?”
“But… you know not every date has to be expensive food and fancy restaurants, right? I’d be fine with Dominos and your sofa.”
“And I’m sure we’ll have our fair share of nights in with too much pizza. But I also like quality food and nice restaurants, and I know you do, too. So order whatever you want and enjoy tonight.”
Dan’s face must have betrayed the small bit of wariness that was still gnawing at his stomach, because Phil continued, “Look, if it makes you feel better, I promise you can pay next time we go somewhere expensive, okay?”
Dan smiled, his heart melting. “I adore you, Phil Lester.”
“And I you, Daniel Howell.”
****
The food was heavenly. Dan opted for lighter, mostly vegan dishes — a salad and a lovely squash roast — because he didn’t want to feel bloated and lethargic if they were going out after dinner. Phil had seafood instead and offered Dan small tastes of it, holding his fork across the table and letting Dan bite off it.
Dinner was lovely, but the company was even better. By the time their waiter was bringing them dessert menus, they were both well on their way to properly tipsy.
Sometime during the main course, Phil had ordered a second bottle of Dom Perignon. The bubbles — and ever growing feelings of infatuation — were going straight to Dan’s head, making him feel giddy in a way he couldn’t ever remember feeling before.
Around them, the restaurant was quietly buzzing with the Friday night crowd, the bar growing slightly more crowded as the night went on. Sometime in the past hour, the overhead lamps had dimmed, the lights of the city outside casting a soft glow over their table. They’d made a full circle, rotating around to see the empire state building and central park, and now they were back to the river.
Still though, Dan only had eyes for Phil.
Under the table, their feet were entwined together, mostly shrouded by the long white table cloth — although the more champagne Dan drank, the less he cared. A few times, when Phil gave him a particularly sweet compliment or an especially sexy look, Dan couldn’t resist brushing his fingertips over Phil’s or letting his toe drag up the inside of Phil’s leg.
In typical Phil fashion, he turned his full attention away from Dan for the first time all night when the dessert menus came, reading over the options with impressively deep intense concentration. Dan didn’t mind — he knew he couldn’t compete with sweet food, but he also knew dessert would come and go, and Phil would be his again.
“Dan!” Phil exclaimed, pointing to the very first item on the menu. “Look, they’ve made cake out of cheese! That shouldn’t get to count as a dessert!”
Dan giggled, his eyes still trained on Phil. “You know, not everyone has the same weird aversion to cheese as you, Philly.”
Phil didn’t respond, too engrossed in the list. “Oooo, look, they have profiteroles and — ew!” Head shooting back up, Phil gave Dan a genuinely horrified expression. His voice was just a hair too loud for inside, especially for the posh and intimate restaurant, but it was fine. “Who orders a cheese plate for dessert!?”
Fuck, Dan was so soft for this boy, this boy who had such bullheaded opinions over what counted as dessert, but was entirely open-minded about anything bigger. “What can I say, the world is full of zanies and fools.”
“Who don’t believe in sensible rules?” Phil quipped back with his brows raised knowingly, not quite singing, but also not exactly just talking either.
“Exactly,” Dan agreed with a nod, letting his eyes linger for just a second before finally flitting down to read his own dessert menu. There was an undefined sappy thought beating at the edge of Dan’s mind, something about how Phil felt like the fairytale impossible thing that happened to him, but he shoved it aside — that was too much even for his champagne-addled heart.
Scanning his menu, Dan’s gaze caught on one of the desserts — not because of the ingredients, but because of the suggestive name.
“I reckon I’ll order the Cherry Explosion,” Dan said, voice low as he looked up at Phil through his darker-than-usual eyelashes. “Hopefully it’ll be a preview of what’s to come later tonight.”
Phil held his gaze for a long second, a slow smirk spreading across his face and a playful twinkle in his eye. “You know,” he started slowly, leaning forward. Beneath the table, a warm hand suddenly landed on Dan’s thigh, fingertips dipping between his legs to rub along the inseam of Dan’s trousers. “I’m not normally a big fan of cherries, but if that’s what gets you there, I can get used to it.”
Dan’s jaw dropped open — both at Phil’s words and at the way his hand was slowly creeping higher and higher up Dan’s leg.
“I don’t — I’m not —” Dan stuttered, trying to defend why he had cherry lube at home, but there wasn’t a restaurant appropriate way to say that he got used to keeping it on hand in hopes that it would entice his ex-boyfriend to eat him out. “I don’t love the taste that much!” Dan finally managed.
Phil’s hand froze on Dan’s leg, his brows shooting up and a knowing smile growing on his lips. “So the flavor isn’t for your benefit, hmm?”
Shrugging, Dan did his best to keep his face neutral and voice steady — but the heat on his cheeks and his quickened breath told him he wasn’t doing a great job of either. “A lad can hope…” Dan muttered weakly.
The knowing smile on Phil’s lips turned positively lewd, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes darkening with lust. “Hope for what, Daniel?” Phil challenged.
Dan swallowed thickly, squirming beneath Phil’s intense gaze. He fiddled with the edge of his menu, resisting the simultaneous urges to knock Phil’s hand off his leg so he could think straight and pull Phil’s hand a few centimeters higher to where Dan really wanted it. “You know… something besides just… fingers,” Dan murmured, dropping his eyes to the table.
“I think most people don’t need flavors for a simple blowjob,” Phil pointed out, a smug edge to his voice.
“Philllll,” Dan whined, his face growing impossibly redder. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he grumbled into his flute of champagne, refusing to look Phil in the eye.
“Look at me, babe,” Phil demanded softly. Head still bowed, Dan shifted his eyes to look up at Phil, whose fingers resumed their teasing caress along Dan’s inner thigh. “And tell me what you meant.”
“I didn’t mean there,” Dan whined, praying Phil wouldn’t actually make him confess that he liked being eaten out in the middle of a fancy New York restaurant. That’d he’d settle for the blatant implication.
Phil looked like he might push it, but Dan was saved by the timely appearance of their waiter, back to take their dessert order.
Without taking his eyes off Dan, Phil ordered, his voice returning to its normal volume, a hint of huskiness still laced in. “I’ll have the profiterole, please, and he’ll have the cherry explosion.”
Pointedly, Phil squeezed Dan’s thigh, and Dan felt like he was on the verge of cracking, on the verge of begging Phil to dine and dash, to skip the club, to go back to their hotel — or fuck it, get a room in this one — and fuck him already. The subtle way Phil took charge, the way he challenged Dan in ways none of his past partners ever had, the way he made Dan feel so bloody taken care of — fuck, it was driving Dan insane.
“Bloody hell, Phil. You’re gonna kill me.”
*****************
“We’re here, babe, you have to get out of the car,” Phil insisted with a giggle. He was standing on the curb, holding the car door open and offering Dan his hand.
“I caaaan’t,” Dan whined, his words slurring together thanks to the full bottle of champagne he’d drank at dinner. He petulantly crossed his arms and stayed firmly planted in his seat.
“This nice man has’ta go pick up his next people, though,” Phil pointed out, flashing an apologetic glance towards the front of the car.
“But Phil, if I get out, then e’ryone’ll see,” Dan grumbled. Phil’s eyes followed Dan’s gesture towards his lap, a saucy smirk quickly pulling at his lips.
Dan’d been half-hard since they’d ordered dessert, and his trousers were still pulling tightly across his crotch, a telling tent forming in the center. Phil had been entirely unhelpful during the ride to the club, alternating between teasing Dan about how easily excitable he was and letting his hand wander up and down Dan’s thigh, not giving him the chance to calm down. They’d both had too much champagne to be discreet about it, and Dan hoped the driver wasn’t too scarred — he hadn’t said anything to reprimand them, at least.
“It’s dark out, no one’ll notice,” Phil argued, threading his hand through Dan’s and tugging gently. The awkward reach across the backseat was enough to unsteady Phil, and he braced himself on the doorframe, wobbling just a bit. “C’mon, as soon as we’re inside, you can get us a seat on the sofas and I’ll get us drinks, okay?”
Dan peered around Phil and saw that there wasn’t a line for the club. Maybe they were early — this was New York after all — or maybe this place really was as fancy as Phil had insinuated. Regardless of the reason, that meant Dan would have to interact with minimal people before he could sit down again. Plus, maybe a few minutes away from Phil would help Dan cool down. Lord knew he needed it.
“Here,” Phil let go of Dan’s hand and shrugged out of his denim jacket, offering it to Dan. “You can hold this in front of you in you want.”
“You’ll be cold, though,” Dan said guiltily.
“Not for long if you hurry up and c’mon!” Phil smiled widely, his tongue peeking out more than usual, and shook the jacket at Dan.
Giving in with a disgruntled grumble, Dan gratefully took Phil’s jacket as he climbed out of the uber, only stumbling a little, which he thought was probably a win given that he was definitely both tipsy and turned on. Dan tried to casually sling the jacket over his arm, aiming for a good boyfriend carrying his partner’s coat vibe, and not horny twenty-something hard because of some light pawing.
Phil’s hand landed on Dan’s lower back, guiding Dan towards the entrance. He dropped his hand as they got close, and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
He started rifling through, for what Dan wasn’t sure, but the brown-haired bouncer suddenly smiled widely, seeming to recognize Phil, and told him not to worry about it.
Shit — the bouncer! Dan’s drunken and infatuated mind had forgotten that the only reason Phil knew about this place was because he’d fucked the bouncer. Or maybe the bouncer had fucked him. At this point, Dan honestly didn’t know which was worse to think about.
“Well, hey there Phil,” the bouncer greeted, his gaze blatantly raking up and down Phil’s form. “I didn’t know you were in town.”
“Hi, Oliver,” Phil greeted politely, smiling but keeping his eyes fixed on the other boy’s face. Dan couldn’t help but size up this lad who had slept with Phil; he had chocolate brown hair, curls, and deep eyes — just like Dan. In many ways, looking at this guy was like looking in a warped mirror.
Except for in one very important way.
This guy was built in a way Dan never had been, nor would ever be. His biceps were literally bulging against his sleeves, and Dan could see the sharp outline of defined pectoral muscles under the thin material covering his shirt. Jesus, it was March! Shouldn’t this guy be wearing a jacket or something? Not showing his muscles off to the world?
And rubbing them in Phil’s new boyfriend’s face?
Well aware that he was probably glowering, Dan tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Oliver telling Phil he looked good tonight.
“I’ll be off at one if you’re free tonight,” the bouncer said as he brushed his hand over Phil’s forearm and offered him a saucy wink. Goddamn, Dan was well familiar with that move, and he wasn’t particularly enjoying watching some random bloke pull it on his boyfriend.
The bouncer’s gaze finally drifted away from Phil, landing on Dan for the first time. Understanding seemed to register in his eyes and his hand dropped. “Although, I’m now realizing that might not be an option anymore…” he added, trailing off.
“Oh, uh,” Phil stuttered, sounding strangled and surprised. His hand reached out and wrapped around Dan’s waist. “Yeah. I mean, no! Not’n option, sorry. This is my boyfriend, Dan.”
“Ah, that’s too bad,” Oliver frowned, disappointed, before offering Dan a cheeky smirk. "You’re lucky. From what I remember your boyfriend sure can ride. He's quite the power bottom, in’it he?"
Dan could feel all the color draining out of his face, could feel how tense his entire body was, could feel his nails digging into the palms of his hands. He was practically shaking — with what, he wasn’t sure. Phil said he’d slept with this guy a year ago. It wasn’t like Dan really had the right to be mad or jealous — they hadn’t even met yet.
But still.
Riding was Dan’s favorite position — he wasn’t keen on imagining Phil doing that with some other guy.
“We’re going in now,” Phil said tersely. “You sure you don’t need a cover?” he added with minimal politeness, cutting in before Dan could say anything. Not that Dan had any idea what he’d say in a moment like this. He reckoned it’d probably start with a choice four letter word, though.
“Nah of course not, it’s always free for you gorgeous,” Oliver replied flirtily, and had the nerve to fucking wink at Phil, even after it became clear Phil was taken. “Feel free to call if you’re ever around again!” His gaze shifted to Dan, dragging over his comparatively lanky body. Dan couldn’t help self consciously adjusting the jacket in front of him, squirming under the lewd scrutiny of this built bouncer. “Or are looking for a third,” Oliver added, this time winking at Dan and deliberately licking his lips.
“He won’t be,” Dan snapped, grabbing Phil’s hand tightly and pulling him into the club as soon as they had permission.
Phil followed willingly, not even attempting to pause and apologize to the guy about Dan’s rude behavior. Not that Dan thought his reaction was unjustified — the asshole had ignored Dan, hit on his boyfriend, and asked for a threesome, all within a five minute window.
Inside, Dan paused for a fraction of a second to appraise his surroundings. The club was dim in a seductive, anonymous way. There were guys everywhere, far more than the lineless entrance had suggested. A long bar lined the back wall, and sofas and low tables created narrow aisles, leaving no room for a dance floor — something that was both surprising and disappointing. Dancing would have been an easy way for Dan to release some of his pent up emotions.
Scanning the room for alternate options, Dan’s eyes caught on a deserted hallway. He pulled Phil down it, not stopping until they were passed the glowing coat check window and as far from the crowd as they could be. Dan’s grip was probably still a little too tight on Phil’s hand, but Phil didn’t complain and didn’t question.
As soon as Dan thought they were alone enough, he spun around on his heel, grabbing Phil by the waist and crowding him up against the wall in one smooth motion. Phil’s jacket fell carelessly from Dan’s grip to the floor as Dan planted his feet on either side of Phil’s, his chest and hips pressed in close.
The position left Phil pinned to the wall, and given the unspoken dynamic that they were both exploring, Dan half expected Phil to flip their positions, to switch places so that Phil was the one pinning Dan to the wall.
Much to Dan’s satisfaction, however, Phil’s only movement was to loop his arms around Dan and pull him closer, hands splayed on Dan’s lower back. That prick outside had gotten under Dan’s skin, and he needed to remind himself that Phil wasn’t with that arse. Dan needed to remember that after months of pining and lusting and yearning, Phil was finally with him and no one else.
“Mine,” Dan growled as he surged forward and captured Phil’s lips with his own. Phil chuckled softly into the kiss, his chest rumbling against Dan’s. Dan could feel Phil’s fingers tracing across his back, could feel Phil’s lips quirking up into a smile. The whole thing reeked of fond and cute, but Dan didn’t want fond and cute right now.
He wanted passionate and possessive.
So Dan didn’t pause, didn’t pull back to let Phil laugh. If anything, he kissed harder; his lips moved urgently against Phil’s and his hands slipped up from Phil’s hips, desperately running over any part of Phil’s chest he could reach without having to step back.
Phil’s lips parted, and Dan didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue in, roughly licking the roof of Phil’s mouth. Not quite battling for dominance, but definitely not letting Dan take complete charge of the kiss either, Phil massaged Dan’s tongue with his own, his hands sliding down to firmly grab Dan’s arse.
The dark hallway, the anonymous club, the foreign city — they all felt like a shelter from the real world, and Dan let himself get lost in kissing and touching and groping. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the red-hot jealousy coursing through his veins, but Dan didn’t even really care if someone noticed them. Hell, he almost hoped that asshat of a bouncer decided to go on a loo break and saw the way Dan had Phil pushed up against the wall, the way Dan had his tongue down Phil’s throat.
Saw that Phil was Dan’s.
When kissing Phil became too much for Dan’s poor lungs to handle, he pulled back roughly only to immediately latch his lips onto Phil’s neck. Needing to feel Phil in every way he could, Dan rocked his hips forward, grinding their crotches together with a force that made them both groan.
“Mine,” Dan grumbled again, the word vibrating against Phil’s pulse point and pulling a deep moan out of him. He nipped at Phil’s neck, just hard enough for Phil to hiss and tighten his grip on Dan’s arse, his fingers deliciously digging into Dan’s cheeks. “Mine, mine, mine,” Dan repeated before licking over the red spot on Phil’s neck and sucking harshly.
“Of course,” Phil replied, his voice surprisingly full of conviction given how ragged his breath was growing. “All yours, baby.”
Dan slid his hands down Phil’s side, rucking his shirt up and grabbing at the soft, bare skin of Phil’s hips. “I don’t wanna share you with anyone,” Dan mumbled into Phil’s neck as his lips kissed and bit and sucked their way up to the sensitive spot beneath Phil’s ear.
“Good,” Phil huffed, this time his voice lower and more affected. One hand left Dan’s arse to tangle in his curls, pulling back forcefully until their gazes met. “Don’t wanna share you, either.”
Dan moaned, probably far too loudly for the coat check hallway of some club, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always preferred monogamy — for a lot of reasons. Something about monogamy with Phil, though. Fuck, it was so damn hot that Dan found himself getting even more riled up. And, sure, maybe it wasn’t an idea that would make many people horny, but it was turning Dan on — he literally didn’t think Phil could say anything sexier.
Hands groping higher up under Phil’s shirt, Dan crashed their lips together again, unable to resist the urge to grind their hips together again. His involuntary moan was drowned out by a loud wolf-whistle.
“Get some, sexy!” A deep, male voice called out, making Dan’s wandering hands come to an abrupt halt on Phil’s ribs and his breath catch in his throat.
“Fuck,” Dan muttered, tearing away from Phil’s lips and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Dan could feel his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment, could feel Phil’s husky laughter as his head tipped back and thunked against the wall.
Dan wasn’t concerned about the whistling stranger recognizing them, not in the dark shadows of a dim hallway in a fancy club. He was, however, mortified — and unexpectedly a little turned on — at being caught feverishly making out with someone in public, even if it was his boyfriend.
Phil tugged lightly on Dan’s hair, this time lacking the command from earlier, and guided Dan to look at him.
“Drinks?” Phil proposed, his voice ragged in a way that made Dan radiate with satisfaction.
“Yeah,” Dan panted in agreement. “That didn’t help my problem at all, though,” he added quietly. Rocking his hips against Phil’s, Dan let Phil feel the full hardness of his cock. Through their trousers, Dan could tell that Phil’s cock was swollen too, at least halfway, and the friction was absolutely heavenly. Dan had to bite back another moan at the relief that Phil’s hips gave.
“Grab my coat and go find us a sofa. I’ll get us drinks.” Phil’s thumb dragged back and forth, back and forth across Dan’s hip, rendering him speechless and incapable of countering with any other plan, even if a part of him did still want to at least try to pay for something tonight.
“Alright,” Dan mumbled, leaning forward to press his lips to Phil’s one more time before pulling back entirely. Bending down, Dan scooped Phil’s jacket up off the floor and slung it over his arm and in front of his crotch in what he hoped was a casual manner.
Dan let Phil lead the way down the hallway, hovering behind him and taking advantage of the extra coverage while he could. When they reached the main room, Phil gave Dan’s free hand a quick squeeze before they parted ways, Phil bee-lining for the back bar and Dan veering right to find some open seats near the edge of the room.
After a minute of winding, Dan found an empty sofa in a corner of the club. The music was quieter over here, no longer so loud that talking would be impossible. He collapsed onto the cushions and spread Phil’s jacket across his lap. The back of the sofa was low, only coming up to his mid-back — probably to stop people from getting too relaxed and not partaking in the whole club thing. Slouching down so his shoulders were supported, Dan pulled his phone out of his pocket to tell Phil where he was.
The first thing he noticed was the time — almost exactly half past eleven. His interview with Jimmy Fallon would be airing any minute now.
The second thing he noticed was about half a dozen text messages from Louise.
Before he opened her messages, Dan shot Phil a quick text, trying to describe the dark corner he was sat in. Switching over to his conversation with Louise, Dan skimmed over her messages. She’d asked how the recording had gone, what his plans were for the evening, cheekily teased that she hoped Dan wasn’t responding because he was getting laid, and promised to tweet about the show for him — bless her, she really was the best friend and manager he could hope for.
Quickly, Dan typed a quick message back, ignoring most of what she’d said and just updating her on things more generally.
Dan [11:28PM]: taping was good i’m happy with it. i’m sure you’ll see soon. phil and i are out. i’ll ring tomorrow xx
Dan was just hitting send when Phil appeared above him. He shuffled back up into a proper sitting position, tucking his phone back into his pocket. Cocking an eyebrow at Dan’s movement, Phil passed Dan a lowball of something dark and on ice.
“Just Louise,” Dan said as an answer to Phil’s silent question and took a sip of his drink. It was some kind of whiskey, something much more bitter than whatever the blue concoction Phil was holding probably was. Dan was grateful that Phil seemed to remember his drink preferences, even though they’d only ordered cocktails together a small handful of times. He didn’t think he could stomach drinking something as colorful and sugary as Phil’s. “Thanks,” Dan said with a smile and a tip of his glass in Phil’s direction.
“You’re welcome,” Phil replied, twisting slightly to face Dan as his free arm came to rest on the back of the sofa behind him. “Sorry about that, by the way.” Phil pointedly nodded his head back towards the door. “I didn’t think he’d hit on me, especially not with you there. Hell, I didn’t even know if he’d be working.”
Dan shrugged, twisting slightly so that he was facing more towards Phil than the rest of the room. “It’s’not your fault,” Dan said genuinely. “Although, you promised me he wasn’t cuter than me.” Petulantly, Dan huffed and sent a glare in the direction of the entrance.
“And?” Phil chuckled, his hand slipping from the sofa, his fingers grazing along Dan’s ribcage. Something about the way Phil was so casually sprawling across the sofa, the sheer manliness of the position, combined with the gentle drag of his fingers on Dan’s side was fucking attractive. “Tha’bloke is nowhere near as stunning as you,” Phil continued, his voice low and sincere.
Dan stuck his bottom lip out, pouting up at Phil. “Are y’kidding?” Dan whined. “He looked like me, but with actual muscles an’ not limp noodle arms.”
Phil’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. His eyes dragged over Dan, lingering on his arms, his chest. Dan squirmed under Phil’s intense gaze, and he was certain his cheeks were growing red. He slouched down again; Phil was taller than him now, and Dan had to tip his head up to look at him. From this angle, Dan had a perfect view of the red marks blossoming on Phil’s neck, and he felt pride swell deep in his stomach.
“I’ll admit I have a bit of a thing for dark hair an’ pretty eyes,” Phil conceded, a small smirk on his face and humor lacing his voice. Elbow still resting on the back of the sofa, Phil bent his arm so he could run his hand through Dan’s hair, petting sweetly. Dan couldn’t resist just slightly leaning his head back into the touch, silently encouraging Phil to continue his ministrations. Jesus christ, he loved his hair being played with, both in and out of the bedroom. “But the muscles don’t really do anything for me.” Phil shrugged casually, his eyes dropping from Dan’s again to salaciously rake over his body.
“In fact,” Phil continued, his voice suddenly lower, huskier. Sexier. “I prefer that you’re a li’le more narrow ‘n me.” The hand in Dan’s hair slid down. Phil’s fingers lightly traced down the side of Dan’s neck, making Dan’s skin feel on fire and his breath catch in his throat. Phil scooched a little more towards Dan, and the close proximity made Dan have to look up even more. “I like being able’ta wrap you up in my arms.”
Arm wrapped around Dan’s shoulder, Phil pulled him in so that Dan’s shoulder was leaning against Phil’s chest, making Dan feel tiny — and not in the bad way he had a minute ago, when he’d been comparing himself to the fit bouncer out front.
This time, Dan was less subtle about the way he settled into Phil’s embrace. He brought the leg closest to Phil up, and let his knee fall into Phil’s lap. Phil seemed to welcome the new position, his other hand shifting to rest his drink on Dan’s thigh.
In sync, they both took a sip of their cocktails, and Dan found himself completely distracted from the bitter taste as he stared heatedly into Phil’s eyes. Pointedly, Dan flicked his gaze down to Phil’s glass with a challenging spark in his eye, and tipped his own drink back further. It wasn’t until the liquid was half gone that Dan stopped. With a small smirk, Phil followed Dan’s lead, lifting his glass higher and chugging.
Dan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way Phil’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and god, he wanted to drag his teeth against it, nip and lick Phil’s neck, add to the marks already there. He wanted to make Phil feel good, wanted to chase the sharpness of the whiskey away with the taste of Phil’s skin.
Overcome with the need to kiss Phil right now, Dan nestled his glass by his hip and tugged on Phil’s wrist. Phil clearly got the hint, his eyes twinkling with mirth and his drink lowering to Dan’s leg.
Pulled together like unstoppable magnets, they both leaned in, their lips meeting with heady passion that was likely too much for a nightclub. Phil tasted fruity and sweet, a perfect contrast to the heavy, bitter flavor of whiskey lingering in Dan’s mouth. Their lips moved against each other, Phil’s tongue almost immediately dragging along Dan’s lower lip, practically demanding entrance. Pliant and desperate for anything Phil would give him, Dan parted his lips and let Phil in. Hot desire rushed through Dan’s veins, his arousal only growing when Phil licked behind his teeth.
Dan let himself be kissed, pushing up, up, up into Phil, chasing the overwhelming feeling of Phil. It was so much, and yet not enough.
A sharp tug of Dan’s hair forced him to tip his head back further — and jesus fuck, that was hot. The new angle gave Phil access to Dan’s neck, and his lips worked their way down from Dan’s mouth to his pulse point. Beneath Phil’s mouth, Dan could feel his blood rushing, his heart pounding, and he never wanted this moment to end. The soft scrape of Phil’s teeth on his skin drew a loud moan out of Dan and caused his muscles to go slack.
Wet, cold liquid splashed onto Dan’s thigh, and he tore himself away from Phil’s lips. He looked down, finding his glass tipped precariously to the side. Oops.
Now that their drinks were emptier and the music was louder, any hope of carrying on a proper conversation had slipped away. That was fine — they’d talked plenty at dinner, and there’d be plenty of time for talking later.
Sitting upright, Dan drained the last sips of his whiskey, motioning for Phil to do the same. There were only a few gulps left in Phil’s, and he obediently knocked it back. As soon as the drink was empty, Dan snatched the glass out of Phil’s hand and hurriedly put them both on the table. His movements were careless and clumsy, resulting in one of the glasses almost immediately tipping over and ice spilling out.
Dan ignored the mess — he didn’t particularly care about anything other than Phil right now. Dan swooped back in and pressed his lips to Phil’s, his leg shifting so that he was nearly straddling Phil. Warm, firm hands gripped Dan’s hips, lifting and pulling until Dan was fully in Phil’s lap.
“Fuck,” Dan moaned against Phil’s lips, painfully turned on by the way Phil was fucking manhandling him. Dan wanted more, needed to be closer, so he tangled his hands in Phil’s quiff, bracing his elbows against Phil’s shoulders so that he could lean up and kiss Phil harder. Phil’s hands crept under Dan’s tight jumper, and his nails dug into Dan’s waist, making Dan hyper aware of every single one of Phil’s fingers.
Phil’s touch on Dan’s bare sides was electrifying, and a surge of pleasure shot up Dan’s spine. Needing to do something with the heat that was radiating from every inch of his body, Dan found himself grinding his hips down into Phil’s.
“Yeah, baby,” Phil slurred, pulling roughly and guiding Dan to rock his hips forward again. Phil felt so fucking good beneath Dan, solid, warm, and — jesus — growing hard.
Dan’s cock had calmed down some while Phil had fetched their drinks, but the friction of Phil’s hips, the tease of Phil’s hard on, made it swell in interest again.
Tearing his lips away from Phil’s, Dan latched onto Phil’s neck and sucked hard, hard enough to surely leave another mark. Those could be tomorrow’s problem to worry about. Dan worked his way higher, leaving a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses up Phil’s neck. Phil’s fingers were digging into Dan’s hips, and it was fucking intoxicating — more so than the champagne and whiskey and whatever else they were going to drink could ever be.
“You —” Phil started, his words cut off by a loud gasp as Dan sucked on what must have been a particularly sensitive spot — Dan made a mental note, because he definitely wanted to make Phil do that again. “You look s’good like this,” Phil mumbled.
“Phhhh—” Dan moaned, unable to even get Phil’s name out. The compliment felt like a physical wave of pleasure rushing through Dan’s body, making him feel hot all over. Phil was so fucking right about that whole praise thing.
Dan caught the lobe of Phil’s ear in his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it and his tongue dart out to flick it. Pushing up just a hair, Dan slid his hands from Phil’s hair, down his neck, over his shoulders, and down to his chest. Dan couldn't resist bunching Phil’s shirt in his fists, massaging over Phil’s nipples with his thumbs.
“Good, because when we get back to the hotel room,” Dan whispered into Phil’s ear, “I wanna ride you.”
“Fuck,” Phil cursed, his hand rucking Dan’s jumper up high enough that his fingers stroked the bottom of Dan’s ribcage. “Yeah, okay.”
Surprised at how easily Phil had agreed, Dan pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Wait, really? You’re cool with that being how we fuck tonight?”
“Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan,” Phil mumbled, his hands tracing rough lines up and down the naked skin of Dan’s waist. “You have no idea how sexy you look above me. Trust me, I definitely want to see you like this, filled up with my cock.”
Dan’s cock twitched, and he had to restrain himself from rocking forward again. “Jesus, Phil,” Dan panted, his hands gripping Phil’s shoulders tightly as he tried to hold onto some grain of composure. “You can’t just say shit like that.”
“And why’s that?” Phil teased, his thumbs dragging back and forth across Dan’s ribs, the feeling absolutely heavenly. It was somehow hot and tender at the same time, and Dan wanted more more more.
“You know why, you fucking asshole,” Dan grumbled, leaning back down to kiss along Phil’s neck. Dan was beginning to accept that Phil was right, but that didn’t mean he wanted to actually admit it out loud.
“You ‘n your praise kink make this too fucking easy,” Phil murmured, half panting, half chuckling.
“Don’t take ‘vantage of me,” Dan mumbled jokingly into Phil’s neck, lightly nipping at Phil’s shoulder.
Properly laughing this time, Phil slid his hands down to Dan’s hips and used his leverage to push him back. The momentum forced Dan all the way back to Phil’s knees — something Dan was thoroughly disgruntled about. But then one of Phil’s hands left Dan’s waist and thumbed over his cheek, a soft and fond look on his face, and Dan couldn’t help but melt. He might have been horny and hot, but he was so damn enamoured that the tender gesture affected him just as much as the grinding and wandering hands had.
“If we keep down this path, I’m gonna have a hard time keeping m’hands to myself,” Phil teased, a playful smirk toying at his lips. His other hand dipped into Dan’s jeans and stroked the long, prominent bone of his hip, as if to prove his point. Fuck, just Phi’s fingers on his hip was enough to drive Dan fucking mad, he didn’t know how he was going to manage to get through the night and back to their hotel without losing control.
“How ‘bout we dance for a bit?” Phil proposed suddenly. Shocked and unable to process Phil’s suggestion, Dan snapped his head back and stared down at Phil with bleary eyes, blinking slowly. The fuck?
Dancing? Right, okay. Dan could be up for dancing. But...
Dan glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the club, confused. Just like he remembered, there wasn’t exactly room for dancing anywhere. However, Dan noticed that there were several couples that were making out, feeling each other up, grinding hips desperately together.
“Uh, where?” Dan questioned skeptically. From his quick glance around, it seemed like dancing would actually draw more attention to them than snogging in a dark corner.
“Dance floor. Downstairs,” Phil explained, his head nodding toward the opposite corner. Dan followed the direction of Phil’s nod, noticing a dimly lit staircase for the first time. Of course — a lot of clubs separated sitting areas from dancing areas, Dan’s tipsy brain had just been too out of it to process.
“Sounds good,” Dan mumbled in agreement, dipping down to kiss at Phil’s neck one more time before he had to climb out of Phil’s lap. “We should have somethin’ else t’drink first, though. I’m a rubbish dancer,” he chuckled. It wasn’t entirely true, but Phil didn’t have to know that just yet.
The excuse sounded better than I wanna be drunk and free with you. Plus, maybe Dan’s decent dancing would be a pleasant surprise later.
Phil’s hand slipped out from Dan’s shirt, and ran up his chest. “How ‘bout you take our jackets to the coat check an’ I’ll order us something else t’drink, baby?” Phil suggested, his tone not really leaving room for Dan to argue as his hands dipped under Dan’s leather jacket, carefully shrugging it off his shoulders.
Dan’s jacket caught around his biceps, hanging from his arms in the gayest of fashions and he loved it. He wiggled his knees backwards until he was hovering above Phil’s hips and could easily rest his feet on the floor.
“Alright, let’s go then,” Dan agreed, backing off Phil entirely and holding one hand out to help him off the sofa. Dan was excited to dance, it would give him something a little less slutty to do with all his energy. Grabbing Phil’s jacket, Dan nodded once at Phil before heading back down the deserted hallway from earlier — only now it wasn’t as deserted. Dan passed three couples heatedly kissing before he even got to the coat check booth. But then again, surely snogging in public wasn’t that slutty if this many people were doing it.
Smiling at the employee, Dan dropped Phil’s denim jacket onto the small ledge and shrugged out of his own leather one, not bothering to tuck his phone into his pants pocket before he handed it to the guy across the bar. Tonight was about letting go, and the only person who could really need him had Phil’s number now.
Dan took the coat-check number from the worker, tucking it into his back pocket, and made his way back to the bar. Phil was standing at the far end, twisted around and watching for Dan.
And fuck, he looked good. Sometime while Dan had been gone, Phil had loosened up a little bit. The top four buttons of his shirt were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and god help Dan because he was pretty sure he was about to come in his fucking pants. Phil looked so goddamn seductive leaning back against the bar like that, his shirt dipping down, his chest peeking out, his forearms taut.
Phil was gorgeous and sexy and so entirely manly — Dan couldn’t get enough.
It wasn’t until he was standing directly in front of Phil that Dan realized that there were no cocktails — no, instead there were two double shots in front of Phil, plus a small plate of lime wedges and a salt shaker. Tequila, then.
“Get ov’r here, mister,” Phil demanded, a smile on his face as he made grabby hands for Dan. Fucking hell, it should be illegal for someone to be so sexy and so cute at the same time. Dan could only handle so much, and his cock and his heart were competing for blood at this point. “I ordered us shots.”
“Shots, huh?” Dan teased, one hand coming to rest on the bar on the outside of Phil’s hip. “A simple drink wasn’t good enough for you, then?”
“I figured neither of us could manage a drink an’ dancing a’the same time.” Phil shrugged with a smile, turning back toward the bar and letting his arse grind into Dan’s hips as he pulled their shots closer to them.
Fuck. Phil really knew how to play Dan.
“Come here,” Phil murmured as he twisted back around, his hands landing on Dan’s hips. In one smooth movement, Phil spun them around and switched their positions. Before Dan could fully process the change, his waist was pressing into the bar and Phil’s crotch was digging into his arse. “Take a shot with me.”
Phil’s voice was deep and gruff, and the scratchiness of it made Dan’s stomach flip over and over in desire. He bloody adored how Phil was taking care of him tonight, somehow perfectly in charge of all of Dan’s needs, intuitively aware of what Dan would find the sexiest and most fun at any given moment.
Dan reached for a tequila shot with one hand, his other grabbing a lime. Realizing his mistake — it was salt, tequila, lime, after all — Dan dropped his lime in favor of reaching for the salt shaker. Phil beat him to it, though, licking a long stripe up his own hand and shaking two small mounds of salt along the line.
“Here,” Phil murmured into Dan’s ear, bringing his hand level with Dan’s mouth.
Not hesitating to check their surroundings or respond, Dan surged forward and sucked the salt off Phil’s hand. Phil moved quickly, his head dipping forward and licking his hand at the same time as Dan, their cheeks pressing together. Simultaneously, they both lifted their shots to their mouths, tipping the tequila down their throat. Behind him, Dan could feel Phil gulp, could feel his neck and his chest and his stomach move as he swallowed the alcohol.
Phil got to the lime first, holding it in front of Dan’s lips. Leaning forward, Dan sucked the lime into his mouth, taking care to drag his lips along Phil’s fingers as well. Soft vibrations rumbled against Dan’s back, and it took his drunken brain a second to realize that they were from Phil moaning.
Phil dropped the lime to the bar and reached for the other wedge, but Dan knocked his hand out of the way. It was his turn.
Grabbing the second wedge, Dan spun around to face Phil. Dan tried his intoxicated best to arrange his face into a seductive look as he held the wedge up to Phil’s mouth and nudged it against his lips. Maybe it was successful, because Dan glanced up at Phil’s eyes and saw that his pupils were wide and dark. He looked hungry, Dan thought, but it wasn’t for the lime.
Regardless, Phil parted his lips and sucked on it, pulling the tips of Dan’s fingers into the wet heat of his mouth, too.
Fucking hell, no wonder Phil had moaned when Dan had done that. Now that Dan’s fingers were in Phil’s mouth, now that Phil’s tongue was licking along his skin, Dan couldn’t help but imagine something else in Phil’s mouth, and — fuck.
Pulling back off the wedge with a loud pop, Phil smirked at Dan, linking their hands together under the bar. “Let’s go dance.”
“Yeah,” Dan agreed, breathless, carelessly dropping the lime back to the plate and letting Phil tug him along. Together, they weaved through the aisles of sofas to the steep staircase leading to the mystery basement.
When they reached the stairs, Phil dropped Dan’s hand, opting to grab the handrail instead. Rightfully so, too. The steps were steep and winding, and Dan was sure that even Sober Him would struggle. Dan followed, holding tight to the railing and sticking close to Phil.
Less than halfway down, the twisting was already fucking with Dan’s drunken head, nearly making him stumble and fall. Luckily, the staircase was narrow and Phil was directly in front of him, so Dan was able to catch himself before he tumbled out of control.
After what seemed like forever, they rounded the last twist and the stairs opened up to a packed dance floor. The music was a million times louder down here, the lights flashing and moving, subtle fog machines trying to make the whole place scream sexy. Everywhere Dan looked, there were men dancing, grinding, kissing. It was the kind of place he hadn’t gotten to indulge in since his late teens, and he was suddenly incredibly eager to embrace the atmosphere.
Stepping around Phil, Dan grabbed Phil by the hand and drug him out to the dance floor. They weaved passed couple after couple until they were packed into the middle of the crowd, disappearing into plain sight thanks to the drunk dancers surrounding them.
Dan spun around to face Phil, alcohol causing the world to blur around the edges. It took a second for Dan’s eyes to focus again, and when they did, he realized that Phil was blatantly checking him out. The way Phil was looking at him, with wide pupils and parted lips, made Dan feel like the sexiest guy in the room — maybe even in all of New York.
“C’mere,” Phil demanded, nearly shouting to be heard over the music. His message was clear though; there was no mistaking what Phil wanted when he grabbed Dan’s hips and pulled him in close. Dan stumbled forward willingly, and he had a feeling he’d walk straight across the threshold to hell if Phil guided him. On instinct, Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck; they were close — so, so close. Their chests were just centimeters apart, their hands spread wide like they were trying to touch as much of each other as they could. Together, they started to move in time to the thumping bass of the music.
Dan giggled, drunk and horny and maybe just a little bit slap-happy.
What? Phil mouthed with furrowed brows and an amused smile.
Dan smiled and stepped closer so he could try to explain; their chests were touching now and Dan could feel Phil dancing. Dan leaned in so that he could yell directly into Phil’s ear. “I feel like I’m back at my year eight dance.” Dan tugged on the hair at the nape of Phil’s neck and pointedly wiggled his hips, hoping Phil would telepathically understand Dan’s logic.
Phil laughed, loud and shameless, with his tongue poking out and his eyes nearly closed. He looked happy and gorgeous and Dan’s heart was beating in a way that he was pretty sure had nothing to do with the minute amount of physical exercise.
Smile still plastered on his face, Phil pulled Dan impossibly closer, causing their hips to crash together, and god Dan loved how their hips felt when they were pressed together. He could have sworn he could feel the outline of Phil’s cock, and it only made him more excited for later.
“Only if you got kicked out,” Phil teased, his hands dropping down to Dan’s arse and squeezing, as if to prove his point. And yeah, that move was definitely forbidden back in year eight. Maybe it was a good thing too, because thirteen-year-old Dan might’ve fucking cum in his pants if someone did that to him then. Fucking hell, twenty-three-year-old Dan was on the verge of doing so, maybe the club should be a little more regulated.
Maybe a touch too late, Dan vehemently shook his head — grinding at dances wasn’t even remotely his life at thirteen. At thirteen, Dan was sexually confused and his only quality friendship was Louise. (Although, four years later, Dan was much less confused and was actively looking for just about anyone who would pop his cherry.)
Now, though, Dan was entirely comfortable with his sexual preferences, even if he did waiver between labels from time to time. At the very least, Dan could say with complete confidence that he was fucking attracted to the man in front of him, and he was fucking hot for the fact that they were surrounded by other gay couples.
And now that Phil’s hands were on his arse, pulling him closer so that their hips, their cocks, rubbed together, Dan couldn’t think about anything else.
So Dan let go. He let the champagne and the whiskey and the tequila take over, let his inhibitions fade away. The music was so loud that Dan could feel it in his soul, the remixed-nineties music just familiar enough to make Dan feel like he knew what he was doing, the added beats just fast enough to make him feel sexy. Hands still tangled around Phil’s neck, Dan pushed his hips forward and rocked them against Phi’s.
His hips moved on their own accord, swaying and grinding and moving in time with the music. Phil moved with him, their crotches rubbing together over and over as remixed versions of TLC, Christina Aguilera, and Destiny’s Child pulsed around them. It was hot, god it was hot. The dance floor was so packed, so anonymous, and Dan couldn’t hold back from closing the fucking microscopic amount of distance between them, kissing Phil over and over again as the night grew later and later.
At some point, Phil twisted Dan around. It came almost out of nowhere — one minute they were grinding together, and the next, Phil was manhandling Dan, shifting their positions so that Phil’s semi-hard cock was rubbing against Dan’s arse, and fucking hell that was hot. Some bassed-up version of Baby Got Back was playing, so loud that the song was almost all-consuming. The sober recesses of Dan’s mind tried to remind him of that scene from Friends, the one where Ross and Rachel sang this to their infant and offended each other, but the drunk and horny parts of Dan were far too focused on the way Phil was grinding into his arse, the way Phil’s hands were sliding further and further down his hips, to properly process anything about the music. Phil rubbed his hands over and over the front of Dan’s hips, pulling him closer and grazing his cock with every pass. Moaning, Dan let his head fall back onto Phil’s shoulder, and Phil’s neck was right there, so of course Dan mouthed along it. The music was too loud to hear much of anything over it, but Dan could feel Phil’s throat vibrate with a moan, could feel Phil’s fingers dig into his hips the slightest bit harder. They were touching everywhere, flushed together from head to toe and Phil felt like Dan’s whole world tonight.
Dan rocked his hips back, soaking up the heady sensation of Phil’s cock rubbing against him, feeling more and more intoxicated off lust than alcohol by the second. Trying not to overthink it, Dan reached behind himself and wrapped his arm around Phil’s neck, his fingers tangling in the short hair at the back of Phil’s head.
The breath was nearly knocked out of Dan when Phil pushed up Dan’s short shirtsleeve with his mouth, and kissed along his inner bicep as he drug his lips up Dan’s arm. Fucking hell, Dan was definitely about to combust and cum on the spot if Phil kept doing that. Phil’s lips latched onto Dan’s arm, sucking and surely leaving a mark and fuck Dan had never been so glad to have worn a short sleeve shirt as he was right now.
Once again, the music shifted, and the iconic first notes of Britney rung out. Within seconds, Dan recognized the song, and given how Phil’s fingers tightened on his hips, he reckoned Phil did, too. And god, he wanted to look at Phil while they danced to this.
Dan tried to twist around, and Phil’s grip loosened just enough to let him move, his fingers dragging deliciously over Dan’s skin as he turned. They readjusted quickly, Dan’s arms wrapping around Phil’s neck and Phil’s hands lowering to grope Dan’s arse.
“Baby, can’t you see,” Dan murmured huskily into Phil’s ear, his tongue darting out to lick Phil’s earlobe. Slowly, sensually, Dan slipped his arms from Phil’s neck and dragged his hands across Phil’s chest. He moved slowly, his fingernails raking across Phil’s shirt, pausing to rub at Phil’s nipples.
“Jesus, babe,” Phil mumbled, the words barely more than a strangled groan. The fingers on Dan’s arse tightened, forcefully pulling until Dan’s hips were grinding against Phil’s. Their cocks rubbed together, and Dan rocked his hips again, desperate to feel and feel and feel.
Phil was half hard, and so was Dan, and the friction was amazing. Pleasure shot through Dan, his cock twitching and a quiet moan tumbling from his lips. Dan couldn’t resist tangling his fingers in Phil’s hair, dragging him just the slightest bit closer, not that there was really much distance left between them.
The music continued to pound around them, and Dan continued to rock his hips forward in time with the beat. He wanted so much, and the grinding was just a small tease. Through the fabric, Dan could feel Phil growing harder and harder, making Dan want more. Heat and desire and lust were building in the pit of Dan’s stomach, and he just fucking wanted.
He wanted to taste Phil’s cock in his mouth. He wanted to feel Phil’s bare cock throbbing against his own. He wanted to be stretched around Phil, full and satisfied.
This song — this song out of all the late-nineties and early-two-thousands songs — fucking got to Dan. And he didn’t think it was fully his fault, it wasn’t like he had a thing for it three months ago. But then, one of the earliest videos he’d watched on AmazingPhil was Phil dancing half naked to this song — there was really no coming back from that.
Dan kissed up Phil’s neck, coming to a stop just a short centimeter from Phil’s ear. “Ya know,” he started huskily. He could feel Phil’s fingers dig into his arse, could see how Phil’s breath hitched. Mischievously, Dan continued, “I jacked off to this video.”
The effect was immediate — Phil froze and inhaled so sharply that Dan could actually hear the gasp over the music. For a second, the world was frozen; it was just Dan staring at Phil, a smug smirk on his face, and Phil staring back, shocked and wide-eyed.
And then Phil’s lips crashed onto Dan’s, moving insistently, hotly, and the world was moving again.
The kiss was merciless, Phil’s tongue immediately licking at Dan’s lips and demanding entrance — not that Dan was complaining. He opened his mouth and let Phil in, let Phil ravage him. Phil’s hands disappeared from Dan’s arse, only to land on his cheeks, firmly holding his head in place so Phil could kiss him harder.
There was no air in Dan’s lungs, and he didn’t give a single fuck. The shortness of breath only made everything hotter, and jesus that was a kink Dan didn’t think he had, but then again, he might find any kink hot if it was with Phil. Phil was so in control, so hungry, so domineering, and Dan couldn’t get enough of it.
Phil pulled back without warning, leaving Dan a panting mess. They were so, so close, and Phil’s eyes were nothing but black pupils. He looked ready to fucking devour Dan, and Dan really hadn’t expected this strong of a response but he was living for it. It was making him feel wanted and sexy.
“We’re going,” Phil snapped, his hands roughly unwinding Dan’s arms from his neck. “Right. Fucking. Now.”
Phil’s words were sharp, making it clear that this wasn’t a request. He sounded like he was on the verge of losing control, looked like he might shove Dan against the nearest wall, and take him right then and there.
Their fingers tangled together and Phil spun around, dragging Dan behind him as he pushed his way through the dancing crowd. It was a good thing Phil was holding Dan so tightly, because he was moving so fast that Dan might have gotten lost if their hands got separated.
Phil didn’t stop moving until they’d made it up the stairs, all the way past the sofas and down the hallway. They came to an abrupt halt in front of the coat check window and — shit, right. Their jackets.
Dan dug through his pockets, searching for the tiny ticket that he’d shoved somewhere. Phil’s heavy stare wasn’t helping, only making him feel more flustered and rushed and desperate to get the fuck out of there already.
“Dan,” Phil said, a hint of reprimand and urgency in his voice that spurred Dan to move faster. His fingers finally closed around the small slip, and he wrangled it out, holding it up triumphantly. Phil ripped the ticket out of Dan’s hand, his only response a single approving nod. Phil slammed it down on the counter, his eyes never once drifting from Dan’s.
The coat check worker chuckled — it was probably perfectly clear what was going on. But even that wasn’t enough to drag Phil’s eyes away from Dan. Dan swallowed thickly, his mouth dry, as he held Phil’s gaze. He couldn’t fucking think with Phil looking at him like that. Struck dumb, Dan licked his lips as he waited to see what would happen next.
Phil’s grip was still tight, and he tugged on Dan’s hand. Drunk and caught off guard, Dan stumbled forward, colliding with Phil.
“You’re so sexy,” Phil whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard. “I can’t wait t’fuck you.”
Dan whimpered, fucking whimpered. Phil was so much filthier than his new videos made him seem, he was dirty in all the right ways. Although, looking back, Dan could see some of this Phil in the much younger Phil that had filmed the Toxic video.
The rustling of their jackets hitting the counter jolted Dan and Phil out of their bubble. Both of their heads snapped to face the window, and Dan could tell his cheeks were probably flushed red. He’d forgotten that there was someone else nearby, that someone else was probably paying proper attention to them.
Phil reached out to pull the bundle of clothes closer, clearly avoiding looking at the coat check person. “Put this on s’we can leave,” Phil ordered, shoving Dan’s leather jacket into his chest.
Dan didn’t need telling twice; he sprung into action and clumsily shrugged into his jacket, his hands getting caught several times. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was thanks to the alcohol or lust, but he didn’t care.
Phil slapped a few bills on the counter and grabbed his own coat.
“Thanks boys,” the clerk said cheerfully. “Have a good night! Don’t forget protection!”
Oh god. Dan felt his cheeks grow hot. He didn’t mind people noticing him and Phil were itching to fuck, but christ, he really didn’t expect a random stranger to actually say it.
Phil grumbled something in response, something Dan didn’t quite hear or process, and guided Dan back down the hallway, one hand firmly pressed against Dan’s lower back.
Hot breath washed over Dan’s ear, and he belatedly realized that Phil was close. “I really don’t wanna use a condom,” Phil muttered into his ear. Dan’s breath hitched, and Phil’s fingers curled around to his sides, not giving him a chance to recover before continuing. “Wanna feel you ‘n fill you up.”
“Fuck,” Dan huffed, his mind not able to think about anything other than Phil’s bare cock pressed into him, pumping cum deep into his arse. “Yeah, please. ‘M clean.”
“Good,” Phil said with a note of finality. He opened the club door and ushered Dan through it. Dan stopped just outside the entrance, hovering and waiting for direction from Phil. Phil stood close, head bowed as he tapped on his phone. Dan looked around them, realizing that there was a line now, and the asshole bouncer from earlier was gone. Must have been after one, then.
“Ugh,” Phil groaned. “There’s a twen’y minute wait for’n uber.”
God that was so much longer than Dan wanted to wait. Brows furrowed, Dan glanced up at the street sign.
“We’re only like seven blocks from the hotel, w’can walk faster,” Dan pointed out.
“How’dya know that?” Phil asked, head snapping up, looking surprised.
Dan pointed to the numbered street sign. “Grid system. Let’s go,” Dan suggested, nodding his head in the right direction.
“Perfect,” Phil mumbled. He grabbed Dan’s hand and started walking. His pace wasn’t quite as fast as earlier, something Dan was rather grateful for. He didn’t think he could walk that quickly for seven blocks and not be too out of breath for sex.
The first block, Phil was still walking faster than normal, though. It wasn’t until they reached the first crosswalk and were forced to stop that they both breathed. The break calmed some of the out-of-control desire coursing through Dan’s veins, dulling it down to a pulsing lust. Dan turned to look at Phil, his eyes surely full of fond desire, a smile definitely pulling at his lips.
Phil bounced on his toes for a second, his movements slowing down when the light didn’t immediately change. Phil glanced at Dan, his heady expression melting slightly into something a bit softer, a bit more gentle. The passion and want were still there, but now there was something else, something sweeter, there too.
Now that they were out of the club, free from the throbbing bass of the music and away from the grinding couples, Dan’s mind felt a little clearer. It was chilly out, not quite cold but definitely cool enough that Dan felt justified leaning into Phil a bit, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder and sticking close. Phil smiled down at him fondly as Dan looked up at him through his lashes. The world around seemed to fade away, and there were butterflies fluttering in Dan’s stomach and god how was Phil so sexy and dominate and sweet all in the span of five minutes, this had to be illegal.
Dan’s eyes snapped away when the crosswalk chimed, and suddenly they were walking again. They weren’t the only ones out — if anything, there seemed to be more people on the streets now. As they made their way back to their hotel, they passed club after club, bar after bar, all with lines of drunk twenty-somethings.
Some sober, less reckless part of Dan warned him that all the people meant a higher chance of getting recognized, but he just didn’t care. He wasn’t about to stop and talk to a fan right now. It was Friday night, and the whole city seemed to be intoxicated, and Dan would just have to hope that everyone else was too drunk to notice him.
They came to stop at another intersection, just barely missing the chance to cross. Dan glanced around, taking in the city surrounding them. There was a group of girls nearby, smoking and drinking something out of brown paper bags. There were a few people outside a pizza place, drunkenly eating slices of pizza off white paper plates as they sat on the curb. There was a couple across the way, fighting loudly about something Dan couldn’t make out.
It was late and crowded and everyone was too focused on themselves to take note of anyone else. It was the kind of crowd that made everyone anonymous. The neon city lights were blurry, and made it hard to see the details of anything — although maybe that part was just Dan.
Regardless, he didn't care.
Phil was so close, so warm by Dan’s side and Dan just wanted more.
“Kiss me,” Dan asked, nearly begged, as he looked back at Phil. His voice was high and nearly breathless, so affected that he probably would have been embarrassed by how fucking needy he sounded if the situation had been different. But as it was, this was Phil, Phil who seemed to instinctively understand every single desire Dan had.
Phil smiled at Dan softly, turning so they were face to face. Without hesitation, Phil closed the distance between them, doing as Dan asked. Phil kissed him slowly but thoroughly, his lips moving languidly, his tongue slipping between Dan’s teeth and licking along the roof of his mouth.
“Mmm,” Dan hummed into Phil’s mouth as he wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck, his elbows resting on Phil’s shoulders, wrists crossed behind his head.
Phil’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, but he kept kissing, his arms wrapping around Dan’s waist and pulling him closer.
It was hot — kissing Phil would always be hot — but it was also sweet and maybe even a little romantic. Dan had never kissed someone on the street until Isabella, and in hindsight, everything about those kisses had been for the wrong reasons. This kiss, right now with Phil, wasn’t for pizza eaters or smokers or fighters. This kiss had nothing to do with the audience, and everything to do with the fact that Dan was so fucking head over heels for Phil that Dan couldn’t couldn’t resist kissing him for the two minutes it took for the crosswalk light to change.
At some point, Louise had told him that all of this was so much better when you loved someone, and Dan was realizing how right she was because just kissing had never been this good.
Love.
The word crashed over Dan, suddenly the only thing he could think as he drunkenly kissed his boyfriend in the middle of New York City at two in the morning.
Dan loved Phil.
Dan was one hundred percent, completely and totally in love with the boy kissing him.
Gasping, Dan pulled back from the kiss, his eyes flying open.
“What?” Phil asked breathlessly, a note of urgency in his voice.
“I — nothing.” Dan swallowed thickly, there was no way he could say what he was thinking. Not now, not already. His gaze drifted over Phil’s shoulder and caught on the signal, which was now showing a white walking man. “We can cross now.”
Dan hoped his voice was steady, hoped it wasn’t obvious that his mind was somewhere, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t very subtle. If Phil noticed, though, he didn’t say anything. He just followed Dan into the street, one arm still wrapped around his waist, holding Dan close as they continued walking. Dan leaned into Phil’s side, stumbling slightly and focusing entirely too much on the way Phil’s fingers had dipped under his shirt and were thumbing over his side, and not nearly enough of the sidewalk.
Yeah, Dan was definitely in love with him.
#phanfic#phanfiction#phan#phandom#phan au#barista!phil#singer!dan#au#coffeeshop au#ly#love yourself#ly 32#iminclinedtowriting#mine
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Heartbreak: The infection
I wrote this a while ago, because apparently i love to torture myself and my characters. I wouldn’t say that it is part of the main story, and i dont know if it really adds anything, hell, it might make it worse, but i wanted to write it. Read at your own peril, because im not sure if it ruins the whole thing or not.
chapter one chapter two chapter three on the church steps sea of stars (this one fits in here)
Word count: ~2000
Trigger warnings: Major character death, injury/mutilation, murder, crying
masterpost link
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A year later.
The sun was rising, and the light was streaming through the stained glass windows and striking the floor in multicoloured rays. Logan saw the light dancing on the inside of his eyelids even before he opened them, to see Patton lying beside him, smiling in his sleep.
“Hey, Sleepy Head,” Logan murmured. Patton groaned and swiped sleepily at him with his eyes closed, his hand in totally the wrong place. Logan laughed gently and shook his shoulder.
“Whaaaaaat?” he groaned with a giggle, opening his eyes and sitting up on his elbows.
“Time to get up,” Logan replied, slowly getting to his feet and pulling on his clothes. Patton moaned and did the same. When he was done, he straightened Logan’s tie (a remenant from his last life that he was determined to keep a hold of) and planted a light kiss on his cheek, the sun creating a halo in his messy morning hair.
They smiled at each other for a moment, Logan didn’t even realise that he was leaning in before Patton broke the eye contact to look at the water container. It was empty.
“Darn it,” Patton said, looking back at Logan. “I’ll go get some more.”
“I’ll get it-”
“I can get it, its fine.” He beamed up at him, brighter than the sun rays that were striking to floor with their golden whips. Then he turned and headed out of the front doors to go to the stream that traipsed down the hill a couple of minutes walk away.
Logan went to knock on Virgil’s door, but it was still pretty early, they needed the sleep. The bags under their eyes had lightened significantly since Logan had found them, but they were still there. A sad reminder of that first day…. No. Not thinking about that. About the ball. About the death. No. Not death. Already dead.
Then Logan heard the door open and he ran to it, eager to take the water from Patton’s hands and lose himself in his eyes, to forget that day. But as soon as he saw him, he stopped in his tracks.
Patton was covering his face with one bloody hand, and the water container was hanging in shreds from the other. He had so much fear in his eyes. Logan reached up a hand of his own and pulled it away, then gasped and stumbled backwards.
He saw something he had hoped, that he had dreamed, he had wished that he would never see, but no one listened to the dreams of the damned. Small blotches of yellow were showing through the freckles that filled Patton’s skin, all across the bridge of his nose.
Logan didn’t look away. Instead he lost himself in the dark passages of his mind, the thing that had always managed to keep him safe, but it was becoming darker by the second. Patton didn’t look away either, but his gaze kept wondering hungrily down Logan’s face to his neck and chest.
“Virgil,” Logan shouted, but the words fought in his throat and came out a a wheeze. His breath hitched, and tears sprung into Patton’s eyes. “Virgil!” he shouted again. He heard the door open, but couldn’t tear his eyes away from Patton’s face. “Go and pack up everything, all the supplies, everything, then wait outside.” His voice was monotone and lifeless, but how the bloody hell was he supposed to inspire joy, or positivity?!
“But-”
“Now!” Logan spun around, marched forwards, and grabbed Virgil’s shoulders, wobbling slightly, so they grabbed his elbows to keep him standing. Logan looked into their eyes and knew that his own were filling with water. “Please!” They looked shocked more than scared, their eyes wide with concern. But after they saw the pure pleading that was in Logan’s own, they shrunk in on themself, and walked from the room.
When Logan turned back around, Patton was lying on the ground. “What are you doing?” he asked in a voice that was shaking with the answer that he had locked away deep in his mind.
Patton smiled up at him, but he couldnt hide the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. “You know what you have to do.”
Logan came and knelt next to him. His hands began to shake. “I cant live without…” His tears choked him, cutting off his words. He pressed his clenched fists to his forehead. He screwed his eyes shut, as if that would make it just go away! “I can’t live without you!”
Patton placed a gentle hand on his arm. Logan opened his eyes, his breath shaking, coming in small gasps. Patton smiled a watery, shivery smile, his eyes glittering. “But I can’t let you die with me.”
Logan’s carefully constructed world was closing in. He already saw the darkness beginning to creep into the corners of the brown in Patton’s. He tried to speak, but his voice had been stolen, silently ripped from his throat.
“Please,” Logan whispered, squinting at Patton’s beautiful face. He had been through so much. They had been through so much together. He couldn’t….
Patton reached up a hand and stroked Logan’s hair back from his face. He leant into the warmth of his hand, tears pooling at the corners of his mouth as his gaze once again flickered down to his neck, furthering the realisation of what he had to do.
Logan pressed his blade to Patton’s throat. It felt so cold in his hand. So cold. So empty and silver and cold. His hand shook so much that he grasped it with the other, his breath was coming in short bursts, and his back was heaving with sobs that burst from his throat like wild animals on the hunt.
“I cant…”
Patton tried to offer him a smile, and lay a hand over his eyes, like a prisoner about to be executed. Logan’s hands still shook, but he pressed down. Patton gasped. Logan whimpered. The shadows in the corners of the chapel were creeping in, wrapping their tendrils around his hands and forcing them down. And in one fluid motion, blood flowed, and the steady rise and fall coming from under his arms stopped.
An immense weight collapsed down on him, and it felt as if the roof had fallen in. Thoughts and feelings raced through his head, filling him to bursting and crushing him from the inside. Crushing him with the pain and the guilt and the love that he would never get back. With the years of hard work and the blood that stained his hands that he knew he could never wash away. With the logic that acted a scaffolding, holding up his universe, being drowned and swept away by clawing, wild, ragged grief.
He began to choke on his own tears, a gushing, swirling, monstrous river ripping through his mind. He was being washed away. He clung onto Patton’s body to stop himself from drowning, clinging to his shoulders, stroking his hair, trying to stop the crimson flood still flowing from him.
He cried. So long. So hard. He cried. He didn’t stop crying for a long time. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even try. And so he cried. He cried and screamed and hugged his boyfriend close to his chest and rocked him back and forth like a mother rocking a child. His tears seeped into his hair and spattered onto his face, coating it with a salty slick.
He didn’t let go. He couldn’t. If he did, he would surely fall.
———————————————————————-
Logan didn’t know how long he lay there, cradling Patton, pushing him away then pulling him back. He began to cough violently. Choking and spluttering chestily from his lungs, shaking his whole body.
He heard the doorknob begin to turn. “No! Don’t come in!” he shouted through the coughing.
“Do not come in!” He didn’t want Virgil to see.
“What’s going on!?” came a muffled voice from through the door. They sounded so panicked and confused.
Logan stared at Patton’s face. So beautiful. So hardened. He had been through so, so much. Almost died several times, and Logan was always there by his side! He had always been there to save him! Now he was dead. By Logan’s hand.
“I need you to go,” he said, quietly but enough for them to hear through the door. He felt dejected, drained, no energy, no life.
“What?! Why?! Where?!” Virgil cried, the doorknob turning once again.
Logan didnt want to answer his questions. He just wanted him to leave. To leave him alone with the extinguished candle that had been his last scrap of hope. “I need you to go far away, take the supplies. Find someone else like you found me.”
“I cant just go!” they cried through the door, their voice cracking with the panic. “What’s going on?”
“I wont tell you!” he cried. “Please, for my sake as much as your own, just go! Please!” Logan could hear his voice cracking, falling apart, rubbed raw, but he didn’t care. How was he supposed to keep his voice steady?! But he was always the steady one! He was always supposed to be dependable!
Slowly, the door opened. He shied away from the light, the tears in his eyes turning it into a blinding glare.
“Oh my god,” Virgil breathed, stopping in their tracks. “Is that…?”
“Yes.”
“Is he…?”
Logan tried to swallow the lump that was choking him in his throat. “Yes. He is.”
———————————————————————-
Logan couldn’t take his eyes away. He couldnt do anything but stare. He was… He was gone? How? Why? Why did he have to be taken, he hadn’t done anything to deserve this! He had always been so sweet, and kind, and… But now….
He staggered on his feet and leant on Virgil, who looped their arm under his to keep him up. They were staring too, but, unlike Logan, tears were streaming down their face. Logan had long since stopped crying. He couldn’t find it in him to cry any longer. For seven years, he had been there, and all the time before that. He couldn’t be gone! But he was.
“Come on.” Virgil’s voice was muffled and distant, as if underwater. “We cant stay here.” They led him outside and then went in to collect our belongings.
“Wait!” Logan shouted, snapping out of his haze. “We cant just leave him here!” Virgil stared at him for a moment. He was confused as for why, until he realised that he was, in fact, crying again. Something they had never seen him do in the year that they’d known each other. Logan hastily pulled his hand up to his face and rubbed the tears away, for what good would tears do? They wouldn’t bring him back.
———————————————————————-
They dug a grave. A deep pit in the arid ground. Logan went over to where Patton lay, and tried to pick him up, but his arms had gone limp, like they’d just given in. He fell backwards and sat there, tears escaping faster than he could wipe them away, twisting Patton’s loose, brown curls around and around in his hands.
Virgil stood behind him for a moment. Patton had looked after them on that first day that Logan brought them here. He had comforted them and helped them work through the loss of their family. He had always been so good at that….
After a few minutes, Virgil picked him up and took him outside, lowering him gently into the hole that they had dug. The sun glistened off his skin, lighting him up and making him glow. Logan had always been adamant that angels didn’t exist, that they were just a fantasy for the desperate, but i guess you don’t realise what you have until it’s gone.
After filling the hole back in, they left. They couldn’t stay. Too many memories. Too many…. They couldn’t stay in a place where he was gone, but where he still lived.
———————————————————————-
They didn’t know where they were going. But they knew that it wouldn’t feel like home. Not without him to a make it so. Logan had been through so much with him, and they’d made it through together. He wasn’t alone though, he had a sibling now. A sibling who had lost a brother. And a heart that had lost it’s love in a world with none to spare.
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Infection tag list: @the-blue-belle-blog @monstercupcake61176 @starryfirefliesbloggo @iolanomsgranola @mourning–star
General writing taglist: @randomavengersquotes @combine-the-kitchens @soakinforsif
Sorry if i got that wrong, i posted the first chapters a long time ago….
Tell me if you want to be added or removed!!
#sanders sides#sanders side fic#thomas sanders#ts virgil#sanders sides virgil#virgil sanders#roman sanders#logan sanders#ts logan#patton sanders#ts patton#logicality#fiction#my fic#fan fic#fanfic#fandom#ts fandom#the infection
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Silver Lining Chapter 13
If you’re ever gonna find a silver lining, it’s gotta be a cloudy day
A ClydexReader fanfic
Word Count: 2,848
Warnings: talk of domestic abuse
Silver Lining Masterlist
Tag List: @oh-adam @kyloren-supreme-ben @xis23@elsablackswift @ladygrey03 @grey-reylo-solo @givemelifeorgiveme @attorneyl @ayatimascd @redhairedfeistynerd @kyloxfem
There seemed to be no end in sight for the Unlucky Logans. The agent would show up week after week, starting a tab that she never closed out at the end of the night.
“I’ll be back, no need to close it,” She’d wink at Clyde.
The tab only grew faster as she offered drinks to her favorite one-armed bartender. He'd accept some days, when he was feeling strong enough to entertain her, but would reject it most of the time.
Grey rocking quickly became the objective. Any prompt she offered, any bait she put down, Clyde played dumb. He acted as thought he knew nothing of what she was saying, keeping any answers neutral, offering her nothing in return.
He'd let his girl take over some days, when he didn't have the energy to fend off the agent. He felt bad afterward, it felt like he was putting her up for trial, but she always assured him she could hold her own.
‘Think of it as tag-teaming,’ She told him one night. ‘When you need a break, I’m right here to tap in,”
Nights became restless, alternating between falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and staying up until dawn worrying about the situation. They re-hid the money together, stashing it in the most discreet places they could find around her trailer. He felt guilty about that too. It was her house if it all went down. As the weeks turned into months, the "investigation" began to wear on the couple more and more.
"Why couldn't she be hangin' around the salon? Or botherin' Jimmy at his job? Why’s it gotta be my bar?" He'd grit out, hand clenching the arm of the sofa. He was sick of being the target, of this falling primarily on him.
"Because she thinks she's got you. But she doesn't. You’re gonna get though this. We're gonna get through this," She responded calmly, peppering his face with kisses.
“I sure hope so,” His face was drawn into a tight frown despite her kisses.
He wanted to pull her into his arms and know that everything was going to be alright, but that was getting harder and harder to imagine. He’d open the bar every night, hoping that the agent wouldn’t walk in. That she’d get bored of this game and he could be free again. Be free with her again. But the door would open and the agent would sit in her usual seat, smiling up at him like a shark.
It was an especially cold night outside. The frost had crept up the front window, making the light from the Coors sign appear hazy from the outside. Clyde kept the bar as warm as he could for his patrons, but it was still a little chilly. The heater wasn’t what it used to be and with the heist money stashed away, he had no way of paying to fix it. His usual patrons didn’t mind much, they’d warm up with beer and whiskey anyways. His girl would joke that it was Duck Tape’s attempt at icing the agent out.
‘The bar knows. It’s hoping she’ll get cold and go home,’ She laughed as she threw on a sweater the day after the plumber gave them the diagnosis.
She was wearing one of his favorites today, a baby blue sweater that fit her just right. The agent was having trouble finding clothes that shielded her from the climate. She’d always opt for low-cut shirts, no matter the heater’s condition.
Today was no exception for the agent. She shimmied out of her coat to reveal a black sleeveless top that was cut to show off her cleavage. He’d avoided looking at it for most of the night as he made polite conversation with the woman who was trying to ruin his life. Their chat slowly turned for the worse as they spoke.
“So I heard some gossip today,” She started slowly. She’d been shooting the breeze with him at the bar for about an hour, just small talk. He now realized she was probably trying to get him to loosen up for whatever she was about to say.
“Yeah, what about?” Clyde asked, cautious about what she might say.
“I heard a guy stopped over at the diner before leaving town a few weeks back. One of the waitresses said he walked in with a huge wad of cash in his hand, looking like he'd seen a ghost,”
The woman was watching him closely for a reaction. He could see his girlfriend stop stacking glasses at the counter out of the corner of his eye.
"He told her he was trying to visit his fiancée, and a guy with a metal arm paid him off to never come back,"
He did his best to look interested and not completely terrified.
"The waitress didn't see how much he had, but it sounded like way more than pocket change,"
"That's quite the story, this town loves to gossip,” He said as best he could. His heart was pounding in his ears, making it hard to hear himself speak. His mouth was becoming dryer by the minute.
"They sure do, and there aren't too many men with metal arms around here," She nodded toward his left hand.
"That's true," He said, choosing his words carefully. His dinner threatened to make a second appearance due to his stomach doing flips.
"But owning a bar in this county isn't quite that lucrative I'd imagine,"
"That's quite the assumption, what are you getting at?" His girl’s voice came from beside him before he could say another word.
She was tapping in. She stared the woman down, holding Clyde’s hand behind the bar where she couldn’t see.
"I'm just asking—" The agent tried to start.
"I don't think you're asking anything ma'am, it sounds like you're implying something," His girl’s voice was even and calm as she spoke.
"I'm just asking why someone in this town would pay off someone's fiancée to go away, seems shady to me,” The agent’s eyebrows furrowed, her voice dropping to a dangerous tone.
"I'm the fiancée ma’am, that man was my ex. I broke up with him and he came back around when I didn't want him to,” She began, her tone matching the agent’s.
“Clyde over here was helping me to make sure he didn't hurt me. He didn't pay him to go away, it wasn't even his money. It was mine from selling my wedding ring in order to pay for the medical bills my ex thought I owed him. Not that it’s any of your business,”
“I—” The agent’s face faltered. Any attempt to say something was cut off by her voice growing louder as she continued with her story. Heads were starting to turn around the bar to try to get in on the gossip.
"He thought I owed him medical bills because he beat me severely enough that it landed me in the ICU. I ran away from him and gave up everything I knew to wind up in this town, where he stalked me to and tried to force me back with him. This saint of a man protected me, if it weren’t for him I might be dead,” Her voice broke with that last sentence, making Clyde’s chest ache. His hand squeezed hers behind the bar. “I gave my ex the money he thought I owed him and made it crystal clear I was never going back to his abusive ass,"
"I didn't realize—" The agent stuttered, that was clearly not the answer she was looking for.
"I don't know what you were implying, but Clyde’s been nothing but kind to me since I got here and I'd appreciate you not spreading the gossip that my jealous ex started about him,"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean any harm,"
"I'm sure you didn't," She said is a controlled tone. With her teeth gritted and her eyes threatening to spill tears, she squeezed Clyde’s hand and left the bar, walking to the back room. As soon as she was out of sight, Clyde turned back to the slightly-stunned woman in front of him.
"She's sensitive about the subject. I didn't want to bring anything up about it when you mentioned it," He deadpanned.
The agent was having a hard time making eye contact. She thought she finally had something, and it fell apart almost immediately.
"I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to insinuate anything. I wasn’t trying to—“
"Gossip gets the best of all of us from time to time," Clyde said in a clipped tone. "If you don't mind, I think I'm gonna close up for the night. I think we’ve all had a long day,”
"Yes, I understand," She avoided his gaze as she paid her tab and left the bar. He watched as she turned on her car and drove out of the parking lot and into the inky black night.
He let the remaining patrons know he was closing up for the night, and they trickled out, paying their tabs and saying their goodbyes. A few stopped to ask if she was okay, if what she’d said was true. Clyde worried his bottom lip between his teeth, unsure of whether or not he should say anything. He settled on telling them it wasn’t for him to say. He was finishing stacking the glasses when she came back out.
"She's gone," He told her as she walked behind the bar. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah," She whispered.
Her voice was a little hoarse as she threw her arms around his body and pulled him into a hug. She buried her face into his chest, letting out a sniffle. Her fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, trying to hold him as close as possible.
"I'm sorry that happened darlin’,” He murmured, wrapping his arms around her. “I didn’t expect her to ever bring that up,”
"It's okay, I can't stop people from gossiping," She looked up at him, resting her chin on his chest. Her eyes looked a little pink, Clyde couldn't bear the thought of her crying over this.
"If it helps, I think you might've squashed her one lead. She left in quite the hurry after you straightened her out,"
"I figured telling her the money was mine might shut her up, people tend to clam up when you mention comas and runaway brides,” She tried to joke.
Clyde gave a small smile in acknowledgement.
“You saved my back there, I didn’t know what I was gonna say. I—I was scared honestly,”
“You did what you could, you were great sweetheart. I just couldn’t listen to her try to make you seem like a bad person anymore. Especially not for that whole incident. I meant it when I said I might be dead without you,” Her voice began to quiver again. He held her closer.
“I love you. I’d fight him off a million more times if it kept you safe. You mean everything to me,” He whispered. He knew he’d never be able to fully convey how much she meant to him, but he could try.
“I love you too. And I gotta be honest,” She looked back up at him, her tired eyes looking happier already. “You don’t look too good in that prison uniform. So you gotta stay out of prison okay? For me?”
“Anything for you,” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her.
—————
It was about a few weeks later when Clyde had ventured out into the cold January night to pick up a few odds and ends from the store. He insisted his girl stay all warm and cuddled up inside their trailer while he went out to the Grocery Castle on their side of town. She helped him lace up his boots and gave him a kiss on the nose before he slipped on his warmest coat and headed out.
He couldn’t wait for winter to be over. It felt even longer this year with that agent poking around. It was a good time of year for the bar, with people needing a place to warm up and socialize, but Clyde found himself yearning for spring as the windshield wipers on his car crackled to life after being frozen in place. The light dusting of snow had settled on the road, making it a little harder to find his way down the dimly lit road in the dark.
The Grocery Castle’s sign glowed against the white powder and the cloudy sky. There weren’t many people out, the only other cars in the lot presumably belonged to the employees waiting to get off their shift. The automatic doors of the store whooshed open and Clyde walked a little heavier, trying to get the snow out from his boots before trekking on.
The muzak of the store was soft in the background, the buzz of the fluorescent lighting almost as loud. He ignored both as he moved through the aisles, picking up the contents of the wrinkled list he held in his pocket.
Bread
Milk
Bacon
Sausage (for the biscuits and gravy she wanted to make for dinner tomorrow)
Peanut Butter
He moved with a practiced efficiency, everything was in its usual place around the store. It was only when he got to the checkout line did he notice anything different.
There was an unusual amount of pink and red decorations around the front of the store. He missed it when he came in but now that he was standing still, he saw it everywhere. The bin full of little stuffed animals holding boxes of chocolate, the cupid cutout that hung by the vent on the ceiling that twirled as warm air pumped out, the seasonal candy display set up over by the bottle return.
He scoffed at first, he couldn’t believe they’d set this stuff up so early. It was only mid-January, there was no need to break out the hearts so far in advance. Who buys Valentines gifts from the Grocery Castle anyway?
It wasn’t until he saw the tabloid magazines by the checkout counter did things start to connect in his mind. A headline about some famous couple having a tumultuous breakup, complete with a closeup photo of a bruise on one of their arms followed by some sensationalized speculation.
Valentines Day was coming up.
The holiday that brought her to Boone County, to him. She’d walked into his bar exhausted, covering her bruises with a hoodie and a pound of makeup, drinking his vodka with the last of her cash to help heal where her tooth had been knocked out. His fist balled up around the cart’s handle at the thought.
Her physical wounds had healed. She knew she was safe with him, they had a home together, they owned a business together. A lot had changed for both of them in a year. But he wondered where her mind would be on February 14th. She hadn’t mentioned it to him yet. Granted, they’d both been overwhelmed with an FBI agent until recent. Things were just starting to get back to normal, they could finally begin to unwind.
But was she going to be able to unwind with this day coming up? Was it something he should bring up? He felt a bubble of uncertainty rise in his chest as he dropped his items on the conveyer belt for the clerk to scan. He was a gangly high school kid, probably saving up for college. He didn’t pay too much attention to Clyde as he paid and collected his bags with his metal arm.
He walked back outside, the cold air hitting his face as soon as the automatic doors opened. It filled his lungs and made them ache just a little. He dropped his bags in the trunk and circled to the driver’s side. He sat in his car with the engine on for a moment, realizing he still hadn’t made a decision about what to do.
He didn’t want to bring up anything that might upset her. Maybe she hadn’t thought of it at all and he was just over thinking it. Maybe she had been thinking of this day for months and just never said anything. She’d have to be reminded at some point, just going about her day. Even the damn grocery store had decorations up. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, keeping it from hanging in his face. He didn’t know what to do, to be honest. She meant the world to him, and he never wanted her to feel alone and scared again.
As he shifted gears and stepped on the gas to travel back down the snowy road, he tentatively made his decision. This was her past and it would be her decision of what to do. He didn’t want to bring up any painful memories by accidentally saying the wrong thing. He would wait for her to say what she needed.
And he would be right by her side the whole way. Just as she’d done for him.
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NOTES
Oh hey this is super overdue! I’m trying to wrap this up for y’all, its about damn time! Thanks for being so patient with me, I know its not much. I don’t know if her story would be enough to throw off an FBI agent in real life, but I do know people really don’t like hearing about traumatizing events. I’d think this would be the agent’s last ditch effort, she finally thought she had something she could use, and Clyde’s girlfriend just isn’t having it.
There should be just one more chapter left, I hope to get it out soon!
#logan lucky#clyde logan#clyde logan x oc#clyde x reader#clyde logan/oc#clyde logan x reader#silver lining#masterlist#silverliningmasterlist
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i try to be a good friend. i really do. im always running around all over the place for everyone doing what i can to make sure all of my friends are just fine but sometimes, like tonight at jessie’s birthday dinner, i was just so annoyed with......,,,,,myself. like it just seemed like i couldnt control myself for like two seconds. i was constantly talking and being flamboyant and just so out there and fucking obnoxious. i dont want to be that friend that’s making the most noise at the table anymore. i hate being the one who cracks a dark joke out of nowhere and everyone just gets super quiet and uncomfortable. i just wish i wasnt so.......,..much(??) i hate it. then why im not my loud obnoxious piece of shit self, everyone is like “what’s wrong why are you being such a bitch blah blah blah” and im like “okay yall literally give me side eyes or dont know how to react to my outlandish statements like all the time what’s wrong now that im not being ugly” you know? i just dont know who to be anymore and i dont know if it’s because i was around so many people i know again or if it’s because i really dont have any self control. i know i talk loud (when im not mumbling) because i have terrible hearing and cant really tell how loud im talking but i dont know if anyone else knows that or cares but either way that’s my fault. there were only 12 of us but now i see my social setting maximum capacity is probably like 7-8 people including myself. i just start trying too hard because im so overstimulated and excited about being around people i know. idk. it didnt make it any better that i thought i looked cute and then when jessie and i walked in, everyone talked about how much skinnier i looked but it’s jessie’s birthday you know? she spent hours going back and forth between her mirror and my room to pick the perfect outfit. i guess im just tired of being that annoying friend and no one ever tells me when im doing something annoying so im sitting there afraid to say anything because there’s a part of my body that’s like “shut the fuck up theyre tired of hearing about that. they’re tired of hearing from you. you’re tiresome. what the fuck are you even doing here.” maybe im falling back into that hole that i was in before but this always seems to follow some big gathering. i just get completely absorbed in all of the wrong i did that previous night and i isolate. like literally right now i dont think i want to go to class this week just because i dont want to see anyone and lose control over myself again because im literally like a fucking dog that sees you and ends up clawing your legs when they try to hop on you. i wish i just...had some sort of filter. like a friend of mine was passing around pictures of a transgender girl at our school and making everyone look at it and pick her apart. the one point in the night when i was serious was right then because that was fucking disgusting. so i told her how i thought what she was doing was wrong and that her gender or transition is no one’s business but her own. but she was just trying to justify herself by saying she has never been exposed to different types of people so she doesnt know how to handle it and what not but i just.....i couldnt deal with it,. then i could tell everyone else at the table felt awkward because i had said something but i was just as mad at them because they were the ones taking the phone from her to look at the pictures instead of refusing or knowing that what they were doing was wrong. so instead i look like the obnoxious SJW friend who always has to ruin everyone’s fun. that was exhausting and at that point i just proceeded to throw the rest of the night away. so i gulped down three more glasses of champagne and let myself go.....as usual. ive noticed myself depending on alcohol a lot more lately. not A LOT more but more than usual. i think it’s because ive found my taste in alcoholic beverages so i just continue to hunt after them like rosé and pink moscato and champagne. greta was talking about how i always drink her entire bottle by myself and as she was saying that, i was pouring myself more champagne. the thing is, im not even sure what im repressing so much now that i have to be some type of intoxicated every single night. it’s been at least 8 or 9 nights and i still havent passed on a drop of alcohol at least before bed. i mean when im with him, i just feel so outside of this world. like when we’re in my room and just being playful and he’s just being himself because im being myself, i dont feel all of the self-conscious and self aware things that go through my head like usual. of course i havent given him all of myself completely but i dont think i have to. i think we both have this unspoken understanding about our minds and emotions. we’re on the same level but he’s much better about smiling at everything meanwhile i contemplate the pleasure of death at least once a day.like fuck, i was sunbathing today and while greta was talking i was literally thinking about how i could kill myself without anyone finding me because im a little more than sure it woudlnt change anything. and i know everyone who says that just seems like theyre looking for attention and validation but it’s just like when mia asked me if there was anything stopping me from going through with it and i said ‘no’ then she asked if i cared about how my loved ones would feel and i finally looked up and made eye contact with her. i could tell she was already worried but when i said ‘why would i care if they cared if im already dead. i wont be able to feel or know anything.’ im still not sure what the point of this all is, honestly. i just tend to rant for hours now because i have no idea who would even care to hear me anymore besides medical professionals who are paid to listen to me. i dont want to be annoying. i just want to close off into a corner and never come out. i know i have to go to class tomorrow but i just already dont feel the strength in my soul to so much as look at another human being. it would be great to just not be seen for a few days honestly. of course i probably wouldnt be able to get away with that considering ‘tall and awkward’ has me on high alert and is down for what ever at any second. i wouldnt feel right just going missing like i usually do because now we have more of a connection than before. it’s also scaring me a lot now too because even as im laying here in bed, i can still smell him on my pillows. i tried to go back to sleep after he left today but i couldnt without his arm around me. that’s what scares me. depending on someone else for some sort of comfort or retreat. what happens when they leave? everyone leaves. i just know something is going to happen with him AGAIN that’s going to make me want to fling myself out of a window or something. then again, as they say, ‘third time’s the charm’. maybe time 3 around will be much better because it already feels better. my problem is feeling like im no longer allowed to say anything more than ‘hi” “bye” “oh really” im sorry” to people i see now simply because i dont want to inconvenience them and force them to be an open ear for me. he;s just too good to be true and losing someone like him at this point for me could be so fucking devastating. and i just mean if we ever ended up have to go back to square one as barely friends. i dont know if i could take that. i havent seen this boy since 10 AM and i feel like there is air blowing through my chest, you know? he’s just become such a great friend first and i know he feels it too. anyway time for me to stop being an annoying little fucking bitch cunt at this point im so tirred. dont read this.
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