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#please stop implying that I am an idiot for speaking slightly different to you! oh my god!!!

angellesword · 3 years

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MAGIC SHOP | JJK (06)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mention of sexist behavior, (old men being trash) forced marriage.

SERIES: CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 7

Jungkook never imagined that he would be spending his Monday with a bunch of men he didn't like.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this..." Taemin smiled apologetically at Jungkook, but he didn't seem apologetic at all. It was as though your father planned all of this to happen.

Taemin didn't even ask Jungkook if he wanted to be a part of this. The head architect was actually surprised when right after he dropped you off to work this morning, he was escorted by Taemin's bodyguards to the parking lot, saying that your father needed to talk to him.

"No worries, as long as I'm still getting paid today. My hourly rate is not a joke, you know..."

Taemin laughed. This time his smile didn't seem fake, like he truly appreciated Jungkook's assurance.

"I can double your pay today. It's Monday after all."

Jungkook nodded because he was pleased. The double pay was just a bonus. The fact that he got to spend the day away from the construction site was already a breath of relief.

Mondays were the busiest time of the week for Jungkook. This was why he didn't understand why Taemin and some shareholders of Castle decided to play golf today.

They just mingled at the party last Saturday. Wasn't it enough? What more did they need to talk about?

"Architect Jeon! Come play with us!" When one of the shareholders called Jungkook's attention, he realized that the party was indeed not enough time to talk about business.

This was an extension of that party. Jungkook just wasn't sure why he was suddenly included. Was it because he got to talk to Mr. Wang last week? The latter was a prospective investor after all.

Maybe these men wanted to know what Jungkook thought about Mr. Wang. Admittedly, he was the only one who got to talk to the older man. Mr. Wang was hard to read. They were surprised that he spared the head architect some time.

Perhaps this wasn't about Mr. Wang at all. Maybe Taemin and the shareholders just wanted to know Jungkook's secret and charm.

"Be right there," Jungkook nodded at them before turning to look at Taemin.

"Let's join them?"

Your father nodded as well, standing up and grabbing his golf club.

Jungkook enjoyed golf. He was a decent player. He was told that this game somehow revealed the personality of a businessperson. He usually met with different clients so he figured that it's best if he could at least get an idea how people in this industry acted.

This was Jungkook's first time to play golf with Taemin and the shareholders though. He normally played this with his business clients.

"Congratulations again for closing that deal with Mrs. Lee, Architect Jeon..." Shareholder Kang said while scanning the course map.

"Ah," Jungkook momentarily stopped setting up his swing upon hearing that. He stood up straight, scratching the back of his head while smiling awkwardly at the older man.

"Thanks, but it won't be possible without Architect Soojin. It's her team's idea after all..."

Mr. Kang snickered, causing Jungkook to raise his brow.

"Why? Did I say something funny?"

"Not really." Mr. Yoo was the one who answered Jungkook's question. "But we feel like you are the sole reason why Mrs. Lee accepted the proposal."

The other shareholders hummed in agreement, smiling. Jungkook did not find this amusing though. In fact, Mr. Yoo's take only caused your best friend to raise his brow even higher.

"I don't understand. It is not my idea. I'm barely assisting Architect Kim and her team."

Jungkook's tone was edgy. He wanted these men to realize that their belief was bull. However they continued to justify that they were right and he was wrong.

"You're too humble for your own good, head architect." Mr. Song teased, knees slightly bended as he leaned forward at his hips.

"Ms. Kim Soojin's idea is..." He paused to look for the best way to describe the project.

"Unrealistic, unconvincing, shallow." Mr. Lim supplied.

Mr. Han laughed mockingly.

"In short, her idea is lame."

"Exactly. It's better to file for bankruptcy if all the architects in Castle are like that." Mr. Yoo playfully swung the gold club, waiting for his turn.

Shareholder Song was taking so long in hitting the ball.

"I mean, come on!" Mr. Kang groaned. "A luxury spa? Who wants that when there are saunas everywhere? Hell, I'm a millionaire but I'll choose a public bathhouse. It's cheaper."

Mr. Han shrugged off.

"Me too. I'm just glad you're part of the project, Architect Jeon. You can fix Ms. Kim's lapses."

Mr. Lim agreed.

"It's also a good thing that Mrs. Lee is stupid enough to agree with the proposal. Ah, women..." He shook his head. "They have big ass and tits but they lack this!"

The men cackled when Mr. Lim pointed at his brain, implying that women had small brains.

Jungkook was starting to think that the double pay wasn't worth it if it meant he had to spend time with these imbeciles. Would it even be enough to cover the medical expenses he would incur if he beat the shit out of them?

"That true! Have you seen Ms. Kim's ass? Taemin!" Mr. Song turned to look at Soojin's father.

"I just have to say this, man. Your daughter is so sexy, especially when she's wearing those tight skirts. Damn!" Mr. Song continued, twisting his shoulder to bring the club all the way up. "Tell her I'm willing to buy all skirts for her—"

Jungkook couldn't take it anymore.

"Shut your mouth." He barked at Mr. Song, but his eyes were focused on Taemin, wondering why he was quiet when his own daughter was being treated like shit.

Jungkook thought that his threat was taken seriously by them. They actually stopped laughing, some of them even cleared their throat like they regretted opening their mouth in the first place.

Mr. Song didn't say anything for a while either. He just swung his golf club, finally hitting the ball.

It went straight to the hole.

The men cheered, but Mr. Song wasn't smiling, just glaring daggers at Jungkook. The latter didn't feel intimidated at all.

If Soojin's father wouldn't do right by her, then Jungkook would. He couldn't just stand here and let this sexist piece of shit blabber.

"What?" Jungkook squared his jaw, inhaling. Mr. Song was standing too close to him, almost hitting his chest.

Mr. Song's jaw clenched. Jungkook readied himself to throw a punch, but he was surprised when the older man chuckled loudly.

"Good, good, little Jeon!" He patted Jungkook's shoulders, the smile on his lips was still apparent.

"You know how to defend your woman, huh?"

Jungkook parted his mouth to speak. He wanted to tell Mr. Song that Soojin wasn't his woman. She was her own person. He also wanted to say that he would defend any woman who was being harassed by someone like him.

He wasn't able to do it though. Mr. Song cut him off.

"See, this is the attitude of a true king." He patted Jungkook's shoulder again before turning to Soojin's father.

"Am I right, Taemin? Architect Jeon is fit to be the next chairman of Castle..."

"Yes." Taemin smiled tightly. The other men approved, saying that Jungkook had their votes when it was time to elect for the next chairman. Kim Taemin wasn't getting any younger. Sooner or later, he had to give up his position.

"Architect Jeon will surely be my successor."

"Sir." Jungkook said pointedly, flickering his irises at Taemin. What the fuck was he talking about? He was not the successor. It was Soojin.

"Oh, look at the time!" Taemin beamed, glancing at his Rolex and purposely ignoring his adopted son. "It's getting late, isn't it? Shall we have lunch together?"

"Ah, right." Mr. Lee caressed his stomach. "Diabetic men are not allowed to skip meals."

Lunch with Taemin and the shareholders was torture. Jungkook didn't know how many times he had to stop himself from punching these men.

Seriously. He couldn't count how many times they talked shit about women and people who weren't as wealthy as them.

They also complained about literally everything. Mr. Yoo smacked the head of one of the waiters for getting his order wrong.

"I said I want a well done steak! Not this garbage!" Mr. Yoo stabbed the medium well steak with a fork, causing the poor waiter to flinch.

"Ah. We should've eaten at home! You dogs should try my wife's steak. Hell, she's really perfect in my kitchen."

Jungkook wanted to say something, but Taemin subtly shook his head, silently telling the younger that it's not worth it.

But it is. Jungkook was dying to say. Keeping quiet implied that he was okay with this even when he was not.

"Let it go. We'll talk about it later." Taemin assured Jungkook when the latter looked like he was on the verge of walking away.

This was the longest hours of his life. He couldn't stand up, couldn't take a break from listening to them. These men took their time, just mocking people while drinking coffee and blowing cigarette smoke.

Jungkook stole a glance at his wrist watch. It was already 4:42pm. Shit. He was supposed to pick you up at five o'clock. Guess he should just rain check on that dinner date he promised you tonight, huh?

He was about to send you a text message when he realized that he left his phone inside his car, his car that was in the parking lot of Castle. Damn it.

Jungkook wished he could just head home and kiss you, however it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"Where are we going?" He asked Taemin who took a left turn, direction away from the office.

The shareholders called it a day, saying they had to head home and sleep.

"You'll see," Taemin didn't reveal much, causing Jungkook to get more annoyed.

"No. Tell me." He was having none of it. Jungkook was exhausted. He didn't understand why Taemin had to drive and send his bodyguards home.

The older man didn't like talking when he was driving, saying he had to 'focus," because safety was their first priority.

Jungkook was pretty sure this was only an excuse. Perhaps Taemin didn't know how to explain his behavior when he was with the shareholders. He probably knew that he sucked for not defending Soojin and for lying about Jungkook being his successor.

"I'll tell you when we get there."

For the nth time, Jungkook wasn't able to do anything. He gave up. There was no point in arguing with Taemin because he would only be met with silence or dismissal.

Fortunately Jungkook and Taemin arrived at their destination before the former lost his patience.

The drive wasn't long, distance-wise, but the traffic jam in Seoul was getting worse.

"We're here." Taemin announced, stopping the car right in front of the columbarium where the urn of Jungkook's father was stored.

Jungkook's creased his forehead

"Why are we here?"

"I miss him." Taemin simply shrugged, getting out of the car and heading straight to the building.

Jungkook followed him. He visited his father as often as he could. He was sure the flowers he brought not more than a week ago hadn't wilted yet. Still, he felt bad that he came here today empty handed.

Taemin brought a flower though. It was a piece of orange geiger that he probably plucked at the golf course.

The flora was already crushed because Taemin kept it in the pocket of his slacks. It didn't stop him from putting it right beside Jong-in's urn.

"He hates the color orange." Jungkook reminded, snorting as he stared at the polaroid film placed against the urn.

It was a picture of him and Jong-in when he won first place in Taekwondo. He was only ten years old that time. You were the one who took the photograph, supporting him all the way.

"He hates cowards too." Jungkook added.

"I know, me too..." Taemin was also staring at the photograph. "That's why I hate myself."

Jungkook balled his hand into a fist.

"Then why be one?" He almost snarled at your father. "Why did you let those men say those...stupid things to Soojin? Why let them get away with it?"

Jungkook was fuming. The frustration he felt was too much that he couldn't hide it anymore. Tears brimmed his eyes.

It pained him to hear them talk about Soojin like that. He didn't love her in a romantic way, but she was his family. He treated Soojin like his little sister.

"Your father..." Taemin spoke after a short while. He still couldn't face Jungkook.

"Your father loved Castle. He poured his time and energy in the company. I am aware that you know this too. You sometimes joked about it, right? You asked him if he loved Castle more than he loved you..." Taemin smiled.

Jungkook couldn't help it. He giggled as well. Yeah. Those were the good old days. Jungkook could never forget the face his father would make whenever he asked that question.

"When he was still alive, he would always say that he wants me to take good care of you and the company if ever something happens to him."

Jungkook's smile immediately turned into a scowl. It had been many years since his father passed away, yet this was still a sore topic for him.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Jungkook-ah. Those filthy men are the lifeblood of our company. We have to be careful around them."

Jungkook shook his head.

"Does that mean we have to keep silent even if what they're doing is wrong?"

"Yes." Taemin didn't even bat an eyelash. Those men had big shares in the company, they were part of the board of directors too.

"Business is a game. You can't win if you don't have resources. Better build an army rather than collecting enemies."

"What's the point of building an army if they can't respect you?" Jungkook scoffed.

"People will only respect you if you don't go against them. You will never be respected if you don't have power." Taemin retorted. "So stay in power, Architect Jeon. That's when you'll be able to really control people."

Jungkook attempted to ponder about what Taemin told him. The older man was his mentor for years. Admittedly, he had learned a lot from Taemin. What happened today was probably the only lesson he didn't like and understand.

"Can you drop me off at the office, uncle? I left my car there..." Jungkook blurted out, heart beating fast upon realizing that he hadn't called you all day.

It was already 6:22pm. Did you wait for him? Did you call him? Were you mad? God. You're probably pissed at him.

"I'll ask my secretary to take care of it. We need to go home. Family dinner. Everyone's waiting for us."

"Everyone?" Jungkook hiccupped. Did it mean that you would be there too?

"Yes. My children and my wife. All of us."

Jungkook simply nodded, choosing to conserve his energy because he knew he still needed to apologize to you. Maybe this would also be the perfect opportunity to finally tell Soojin what he felt for her.

They arrived at the mansion at exactly seven pm. The house was usually quiet, but tonight was different.

Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, causing Jungkook to think if he had missed something. Was today someone's birthday?

"Are we celebrating something?" This was what Jungkook said the moment he took a step inside the dining area.

There was a feast.

Taemin was right. Every member of the family was present. Jungkook's eyes shifted to you, like it was natural for him to find you whenever, wherever.

You were not looking at him though. Your eyes were trained on your empty plate.

"Are you kidding me, Jungkook? It's your engagement—" Taehyung who was seated on your right, tried to speak, however he was cut off by Sin-ae.

"You two are right on time! Come! Sit!" Sin-ae grinned nervously, helping to remove her husband's coat.

Soojin tried to do the same with Jungkook.

"I got it..." Jungkook stopped Soojin from latching on his arm, his eyes were still focused on you.

He wanted to ask if you were alright. You seemed down and you hadn't spared him a single glance.

"Sit beside me, JK," Soojin still managed to hold onto his biceps, pulling him to sit right across from you.

"What are we celebrating again?" Jungkook was talking to Taehyung but his gaze was still on you.

Your youngest brother turned to Jungkook, a playful smirk was plastered on his lips. He looked amused.

"Why don't you ask my lovely sister Soojin?" Taehyung was munching a piece of pickled radish. "Or my mom? I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you since it looks like you don't have any idea what's happening..."

"Let's just enjoy our food first, shall we, huh, Kim Taehyung?" Sin-ae gritted her teeth, giving her youngest son a pointed look.

Jungkook shrugged. He wasn't that interested anyway. He only went here because you were here. He wanted to apologize to you.

It was clear to him now that you were pissed. You liked shrimps, but hated peeling them so he did it for you. Using his chopsticks, he picked up the two shrimps and transferred it to your plate.

Instead of thanking him or smiling at him, you just pushed the seafood to the corner of your plate, like you didn't want to eat them.

"You're awfully sweet to her, aren't you, JK?" Namjoon who was sitting on your left, voiced out, noticing how Jungkook treated you.

Your flinched, heart skipping a beat.

"You just gave her shrimps." Namjoon said again when Jungkook just creased his forehead.

"Ah. She likes shrimps." He shrugged, failing to notice that the act was a big deal. He had done this many times already. Jungkook always peeled shrimps for you ever since you two were kids.

"Careful there. Soojin might get jealous."

"Why would you get jealous?" Jungkook asked your sister directly. "We're not dating."

Seokjin and Taehyung choked. Namjoon dropped his fork. Sin-ae was flustered while both Soojin and his father sighed: the former in exasperation while the latter did it in exhaustion.

You remained silent despite the fact that everyone seemed surprised because of what Jungkook said.

"What?" The head architect raised a brow, confused. "You're all acting weird."

Except you, but Jungkook already knew you were damn good at hiding your emotions.

No one was aware that you were shocked and confused too. Why was Jungkook acting like he had no idea what was happening?

Could it be because....it's the truth? Was he really clueless?

Your assumption was confirmed when Taemin awkwardly cleared his throat, shifting his attention to your best friend.

"Remember when I told you earlier that you're going to be my successor?"

Jungkook raised his head slightly.

"Well...it's the truth. You're going to be the chairman of Castle after marrying my daughter—" Taemin gulped. "—Soojin."

"No." Jungkook stated, so fast he didn't even blink.

"Jungkook—"

"I said no." Jungkook's voice was full of authority, his eyes were dark, jaw and fist clenching.

"But we have already announced it publicly." Sin-ae mumbled. She didn't realize that Jungkook would react this way. He was always so kind, sweet, and level headed.

He was different tonight. Truthfully, he looked terrifying as he glowered at Taemin.

"I get it now," Jungkook cackled, wetting his lower lip. "Meeting with the shareholders and bringing me to the columbarium? These were all part of your plan."

Huh. He was so stupid to fall for your father's trap. Taemin didn't give two shits about his 'promise' to Jong-in. He was only doing all of this for his own interest.

"You need me to marry Soojin because it's what the shareholders want, right?"

Taemin didn't deny Jungkook's accusation.

"They will withdraw their shares in the company if Soojin becomes the chairperson. They want a man to be in power, Jeon."

"Then let them go. It's their loss."

"You know very well that it's not. Our empire will fall without them."

"Then let the empire fall." Jungkook threw the napkin on his plate. He was done. He lost his appetite. "I don't care. I'm not marrying Soojin."

He said it with finality that Soojin couldn't help but gasp.

"Yah, Jeon Jungkook!" Her fist landed on top of the table. "Does the idea of marrying me so bad that you're willing to let our company fall, huh?"

"Yes." Jungkook didn't hesitate. "It's bad because I don't love you like that, Soojin. I can't love you the way you want me to."

"Nobody said you two need to love each other." Seokjin took part in the conversation. He only said this because he and his wife didn't marry for love. It was for business too.

"Then why get married? I don't believe in marriage for convenience. I will only do it for love." Jungkook switched his gaze at you the moment he said the word 'love'

He was surprised to see you already staring at him. You looked away when he caught you though.

"So sappy, JK." Taehyung teased. "Why? Do you love someone else?"

"I do." Jungkook was very honest and it was starting to annoy you. You wondered if he ever processed his thoughts first. It looked like he just kept saying things that entered his mind.

"Who is she?" Soojin demanded. She wanted to scream.

Jungkook looked like he was about to say something without thinking again, but before he could do that, you interfered.

"Oh no!" Your eyes dilated, elbowing the glass of champagne and letting the sticky drink stained your dress.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Sin-ae rolled her eyes, snapping at you. "You're so clumsy! You're ruining our night!"

"Eomma..." Taehyung warned. He was about to grab a napkin so he could hand it to you, but Jungkook was already on his feet, going near you.

"Are you okay?" He leaned closer to you, dabbing the napkin onto your dress.

You took advantage of his close proximity.

"Don't say anything about us. Please." You whispered and then you slightly pushed him away.

"I'm okay. Thanks, Jungkook." You stood up quickly, almost stumbling in doing so. Fortunately your best friend managed to grab your wrist.

"Careful..." He said softly, hands grabbing your waist.

You pushed him away again, trembling.

"I-I'll just change." You didn't wait for their approval.

You just left with your heart still beating fast.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #armywriterssupport #jungkook x yn #jungkook x oc #bts fic #jungkook best friends to lovers #best friend jungkook

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redhawtriot · 4 years

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Problem Child (MHA Headcannons)

I work a lot with kids and teens and was literally a teenager a few months ago myself lol, so I know just how much of little shits they can be.

I always see such cute stories and headcanons with fathers and their sweet adorable children/babies, but what happens when they get older and less… adorable?

Well…

HnM💕

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💥Bakugou:

Bakugou’s teenage daughter is probably his carbon copy. The proud attitude and sassy wit would be praised and held on an adorable pedestal when she was a little girl, but when she becomes a teenager, it is not nearly as cute.

“What the hell!? Get out of my room, dad!” She would scream at her father as he barged in her room, “It’s like you never learned how to knock!”

He would instantly get triggered by her loud mouth, “It’s my damn house. I can go wherever I want, whenever I want!” he would scream before something shiny on the corner of her nightstand caught his attention, “What’s that.”

His daughter would immediately scramble to conceal the golden package, “None of your business,” she tucks it in her drawer.

“No! What the fuck was that?!” He has a slight idea of what it might be but he prays to god that he is wrong as he storms over to her dresser and rips it open.

“Dad!” his fifteen year old daughter shrieks as she feebly attempts to slam the drawer back shut-- not caring at all about Bakugou’s fingers, “The fuck’s your problem?!”

Bakugou’s rigid arms would hold the drawer open as his eyes blankly stare at the horror scene in front of him, “W-what are you doing with condoms?!” His eyes are wide.

“Fucking figure it out! God!” His not-so-little girl finally slams the drawer back shut, effectively snapping him out of his daze.

He rips his furious eyes toward her direction, “YOU ARE NEVER LEAVING THIS HOUSE AGAIN, YOU HEAR ME?! GET USED TO THESE WALLS BECAUSE THEY ARE THE ONLY THING YOU’LL SEE FROM NOW ON!”

“The fuck I am!”

His significant other would have to spend the next few hours talking him down from killing every single boy his daughter had ever come into contact with.

He wouldn't be able to look his daughter in the eyes for the following days, but sooner or later he got over his anger and even eventually talked to her about more effective forms of birth control. (God was that a spectacle)

Todoroki:

Probably going to be a super passive parent, especially with his teens. He doesn't want to be overbearing and controlling like his father was.

His teens might learn to take advantage of this. I could see his kids going to him if the other parent says no to something. This would probably lead to a lot of confusion within the Todoroki household. Lol

He isn't a complete idiot though, he would get wiser to his teenager’s antics and eventually put his foot down.

Or... at least attempt too.

He would probably be a huge softy for his kids and end up giving in to them regardless.

Izuku:

He would for sure be a helicopter parent. It would be touching and adorable for him to cry when his son leaves for his first day of Elementary school, but it would be less cute when he is a whole ass teenager and he still wants to drop by his middle school to “check in on him.”

“Dude… is that your dad. Again?” one of his son’s classmates would point out to him as he gawked at the hoard of paparazzi in school’s front entrance.

“Please, god no,” Izuku’s son would cower into his arms at his desk.

However, he knew that he would have to confront his father sooner or later, “Dad! What are you doing here?”

“You left your applesauce on the kitchen counter this morning, I just thought I‘d stop by and bring it to you while I was on patrol today, son.”

Fucking applesauce!?!

The younger Midoriya would have to fight the urge to face-palm, opting for a heavy sigh instead, “I’m not five years old! I don’t need my dad to drop off snacks for me!”

The sudden outburst would slightly wound the fragile father, “Y-you’re right…” Izuku would immediately understand the new boundary and respect it, “Sorry son, I-I’ll just go then,” he would still hand the sauce over to his son.

As he turns to leave his son would feel a pulse of guilt, “Wait… Thank you… Just stop breathing down my neck so much, okay?”

“Alright!” The apology would fill the father would a sense of vigor. He would turn back around to leave on a much happier not until--

“Oh, wait!” Izuku almost forgot something! “I LOVE YOU, SON!” he shouts from across the courtyard.

Giggles from the other kids could be heard as his son ducks shamefully into himself, “L-love you too…dad...” the boy’s face falls into a deep shade of red as people stare at him.

Shinsou:

He would never mind control his children, but he would be lying if he said that it wasn’t tempting every now and then.

He would probably be the type of person that prefers smaller children to teenagers for some reason. As the feeling of being needed diminishes and his children grow more and more independent, he would begin feeling a little left out of their everyday lives.

He would for sure be the type of person that tries to hang onto his children's childhoods for as long as he can. The first time that his kids go out “without” parental supervision to like the mall or movies, or something, he would secretly tag along.

He would leave after he felt comfortable enough.

Holy shit! If he got caught though?

His kids would probably never let him hear the end of it. I feel like he would be very embarrassed because everyone would would be able to see that he did it for him and not for his kids lol.

“Awh, dad you just want us to stay little forever, don’t you?”

“I was just trying to make sure that you guys would be okay,” he would immediately retort, as if the speed of his response could cover his obvious lying.

“Apparently we weren't the ones needing to be checked up on! You okay?”

He really wasn’t okay.

Why do kids have to grow up so fast?!

Kirishima:

Will be very straight up and direct with his children. He will always tell them when they are not being their best selves.

Even though he is probably the most supportive guy in the world, his son will still probably hide things from him because his overwhelming positivity and wish to better himself and others can be.. well... a bit much.

“LET”S GO GET SOME REPS IN!” Kiri would burst into his 16 year old son’s room, but finds that he is on the phone with someone, “Who’s that on the phone?”

The boy would immediately hang up the phone and stare wide-eyes at his father, “Uhhh... grandma?” he obviously lies.

“Huh. But your grandma is in a different time zone... it’s 3 am for her...” Kirishima would bait his son to tell the truth.

Knowing that he had been caught and that there was no backing out, he would reluctantly tell the truth, “It’s... my boyfriend.”

“BOYFRIEND?! Why didn’t you tell me you were seeing someone, son?? Have em over tonight! I’d love to meet him! I bet he’s great! Does your mother know?! I’ll call her as soon as I can and let her know the great news--”

“No, no, no! Stop!” the young boy would frantically interrupt, “Uh, Thanks... but h-he’s not coming over, could you... get out of my room please?”

Kirishima would turn a little red at the realization that he had gone a little off of the deep end, “Oh... okay... Sorry for that,” he would nervously laugh as he backed out of the room, “I guess I did get a little ahead of myself, huh?”

“Yeah...” His son would purse his lips as the two made awkward, prolonged, eye contact.

“Okay.... Well, you want the door open or shut?”

“Shut would be fine,”

“Alright,” Kiri would begin shutting the door only to stick his head on one more time,“Love ya.” he would softly speak into the room.

“Bye...” as soon as the door is shut his son flops tiredly onto his bed.

Kaminari:

He would always be a teenage boy at heart so him and his kids would actually get a long very well—maybe too well.

He would catch his children trying to sneak out of the house and set up little boobie traps for them outside of the window they sneak out of. He would never tell his s/o about them sneaking out because, hey, if they avoided his boobie traps, they probably deserved it!

When his kids were caught they usually wouldn’t even want to go out anymore as they were typically covered in syrup, or blasted with paint-balls, or soaking wet with tomato sauce or some other random thing.

Every now and then, when his kids would successfully pass a boobie trap, however, he would up his game.

This leads to the game always evolving.

His kids respect the hell out of him, because they love him so much, but this little game they have going with him is too fun to give up!

Iida:

He had always been told that he was a bit overbearing, and would wanna correct that about himself before he had children.

Iida would be the type of father that would read up on parenting magazines, so he wouldn’t be too authoritarian and would like for his kids to make the right decisions on their own… but damn was it hard for him to just sit back and watch.

He would be walking by, when the sight of his daughter relaxing on the living room on her phone would catch his attention. She has a series of textbooks sprawled out in front of her, but is paying them no mind. “Sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be studying right now?”

“Yeah, probably. I’ll get on it in a minute…” she would absentmindedly reply as her eyes stayed glued onto her phone.

“Okay…” he would reply as he continued doing whatever it was he was doing before he got distracted; however when he passed by the living room again, he noticed that his daughter was still in the same position that he had left her in, “Ahem!”

The young girl knew well what this meant as she looked up to acknowledge Iida, “Yes, father?”

“There’s no time like the present, you know,” he reminded her.

“Thanks… I’ll remember that,” even though she knew exactly what he had been trying to imply, she looked back to her phone in a small bout of rebellion.

This would be the last straw for Iida, “I know that you are a fine student and all; however, I just think that you should—”

“FINE,” she would loudly sigh as she throws her phone to away to the couch, I’ll do my homework right now!”

“That’s my girl!”

“Of course,” she would smile back with just a hint of resentment.

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abraxos-is-toothless · 4 years

Text

Surprises (18)

And here is the next one! This might feel like a bit of a filler chapter but this is just what my brain wanted me to have for this one so I’m sorry if it’s not the best:)

Warning: just a little hint at characters self hate/struggles but only a tad. Also some implied sexy times at the end of the chap.

Surprises Masterlist.

Full Masterlist.

Yet another Noorhelm gif because softness.

---------

Elain watched as Azriel got more and more frustrated trying to walk on his prosthetic. He’d been fitted for it a few weeks ago now and was told by prosthetist to make sure he used it around the house, and when he was confident and comfortable enough, he could start going out with it. The process was difficult to say the least, especially when he’d first tried walking to kitchen by himself. She told him that time that she wouldn’t look because she didn’t want him to feel pressured or like he had to do it to impress her. Azriel had fallen half way there, putting all of his weight on the leg by accident, and had broken down on the floor of the hallway. Elain’s heart had broken at the sight, holding back tears when he sneered at her, saying he didn’t want nor need her help. She’d called for Cassian and when he’d come to help she disappeared to lie down for a little while, now starting to feel tired all of the time. When she’d woken, Azriel was laying in front of her, fingers stroking down the side of her face and curling around her ear, apologising for being an asshole.

Now, he was testing himself in the garden, pushing himself to try and walk down the few steps from the decking and onto the grass. Elain walked forward when he cursed again, backing out once again from stepping down, holding her hand out to him. He eyed her hesitantly for a moment before sighing, taking her hand to interlace their finger, and only then did he take that first step, Elain right by his side. When they were finally on the grass, they walked together slowly over to the picnic table, sitting in a peaceful silence together. She was happy, just to sit there with him, pressed into his side with his scarred hands holding her own in his lap. After a while, he shifted to his left slightly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to her lips and pressing their foreheads together and mumbling into the space between them. “I really thought I could do it by myself that time.”

Elain stared at him, smiling gently. “You’ll get there, it takes time remember? It’s okay to accept help sometimes you know, it doesn’t make you weak, Az.”

“I know, I just...” He trailed off, eyes fluttering closed and she rubbed her nose against his softly, watching the way his mouth quirked up at the corners.

“You just what?”

“You’re over five months pregnant now, Ellie. I want to be able to move around on my own, to actually do things independently again. I want to be able to actually help you when she’s finally here, to get up in the night when she’s crying so that you can rest. I’m her father, I’m supposed to fucking take care of her too.” There were tears falling down his cheeks and she brushed them away gently before holding his face in her hands.

“You will, you will be able to do those things. And even when you can’t, even when I can’t, we have a big family in that house who want to help. Please, stop this self hating you have going on, thinking that I’m upset. I don’t fucking care about any of it, I’m just glad you’re actually here, that I didn’t lose you because of my asshole father.” Once upon a time she loved her father with everything she had. She loved the man who used to read her stories before bed, the man who made silly faces whenever she fell and scraped her knees. Most of all she missed the man who loved her back. But then her mother died and all of that disappeared, and Nesta was basically left to raise her and Feyre on her own. Giving Nesta everything she wanted most in the world could not repay her for she did, for the childhood she gave up for them.

“Is there any news on your father yet?” Azriel asked her gently, hand and eyes resting on her stomach, feeling as his hellish daughter kicked Elain again. She always got very excited when he put his hand to her bump, like she knew the difference between who was holding her. It would explain why when Cassian always asked to feel, the troublemaker would stop kicking and make Cass pout sadly; messing with her Uncle already.

“Nope, absolutely nothing. The police still can’t figure out where he’s gone and they keep asking us if we know where he might be. I haven’t got a clue and it’s starting to piss me off. He almost killed the three of you, you lost your leg, he should be punished for it the coward.” His hand moved up so that his thumb could smooth along her cheekbone, it was only then that she realised she was crying. Again. Honestly she’d had enough of these ridiculous hormones, making her show every damn emotion against her will. Az opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to soothe her, but suddenly there was a bang from inside and muffled yelling. The two moved as fast as his leg would allow, but he seemed to move with ease now that he wasn’t so focused on it. Making their way through the kitchen once they were inside, the two stopped in the doorway to the living room, Az blocking the space which forced Elain to stand on her tiptoes to peer over his shoulder. She honestly didn’t know what to make of the sight before her.

There was a beautiful gold haired girl in the middle of the room, face full of anger but also a little bit of sadness, throwing random objects at both Cass and Rhys. The former tried to hide behind Nesta, who kept shoving him away in annoyance. The former seemed to have accepted his fate, standing still and catching each item the girl threw at him.

“You absolute fuckheads! I haven’t heard from any of you in weeks, you left me stuck in that stupid boarding school with nothing! I got back from France last week, planning to surprise you all, so I went to your mother at the hospital to ask her where you all were.” Mystery girl threw a book at Rhys, which Elain realised was her new gardening book from Az, when he dared to open his mouth and interrupt her. “I am not finished Rhysand! The three of you were in a car accident and you didn’t think to tell me, to let me know you were okay? That’s all your mother got out before I left, coming straight here.” Her girls chest was heaving from her furious ramblings, head twisting at speed to where Elain and Azriel stood when he said gently;

“Mor, calm down would you?” She watched as ‘Mor’ dropped the newest item in her hand, lifting it to cover her mouth, gasping in shock when she trailed her eyes over him. She made to move towards him, arms open as if she were going to hug him, but for some reason Elain didn’t like the thought of that considering she didn’t know the other girl. Stepping forward, Elain took his hand in one of her own again and interlaced their fingers. Mor stopped at the gesture, eyes dropping to Elain’s protruding stomach, widening when she looked back to Azriel.

“Tell me that you did not go and get a girl pregnant, please tell me that is not what I am seeing right now.” Elain glared at her, pressing herself closer to him, relishing in his warmth. He looked down at her, eye warm and smile soft, not looking away from her as he declared.

“Mor, I’d like you to meet Elain. My sunshine, my love and yes, the mother of my child.”

“Why do I always miss everything?” She pouted, before glaring and smacking Azriel in the shoulder. “And that’s for not telling me I’m going to be an auntie for god's sake.” He rolled his eyes, rubbing the spot where she’d hit him.

“Yes, yes, we’re very sorry.”

Rhys muttered across the room, “My cousin ladies and gentlemen. Now you know where my dramatics come from.” Mor scoffed, turning to give him the finger.

“Oh no that’s all you, you are so much worse.”

Feyre laughed, reaching up to gently pat her boyfriend on the head. “Hate to break it to you baby, but you really are worse.” He leaned in to kiss her gently on the nose.

“Cruel, wicked thing.”

Mor gagged and suddenly took Elain’s hand, dragging her away from Azriel and towards the sofa. “Enough of your gross shit Rhys. Now, Elain, tell me all about how that fool managed to sweep you off your feet and I want all the nitty and gritty details.”

Elain did, she told her everything once everyone had fully calmed down, the boys clearly happy and excited to have her home. She told Mor about that first drunken night, and the morning after, how she was so fucking scared. Told her about what Azriel had done on that field when Elain had told him, how he had walked away, leaving her hurt and crying and alone. He went pale at the reminder, reaching for her hand at her other side and apologising once again when Mor called him every name she could think of. Then came talks of her first ultrasound, her little scare and how they’d had to tell everyone, the gender and her father’s outburst. Finally they got to the car crash, forcing Elain to close her eyes at the onslaught of memories, the sight of Cassian broken and sobbing on the hospital floor. When she was done, she looked up to see that Mor had a few tears in her eyes.

“I should have fought harder when my parents told me they were sending me away, I should have done something. I should have been at home where you all needed me, and to save you girls from these blithering idiots, because it’s a miracle none of you have killed them yet.” Nesta chuckled from her seat in the arm chair, Cassian sitting at her feet while she braided his hair.

“Believe me I’ve come close, but there’s still time.” Cass only hummed, eyes closed and Elain had to hold back a giggle at his next words.

“I’ve told you about the dirty talk sweetheart. Those death threats of yours do something to me and you have got to stop doing it in front of people.” Elain’s sister merely pulled on his hair in response, making her boyfriend hiss in pain. She frowned when she finally connected with that first part of what Mor had said, looking at the golden haired girl curiously.

“Why did your parents send you away? You don’t have to say anything if you don’t wish to talk about it.”

The other girl sighed but shook her head, lifting her hand to tuck a few curls behind her ear. “No, no, it’s alright. They had found out that I am very, very much into girls. They thought that maybe by sending me to that stupid school, it would keep me away from ‘temptations’ and it would ‘fix’ that part of me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Why did parents have to be so awful sometimes?

Mor laughed, eyes full of mischief as she smirked. “It’s quite alright. What they didn’t realise was that I was going to meet some very pretty French girls.”

They all stayed together for hours after that, just talking. Elain and her sisters getting to know Mor, while the boys got her caught up with everything while she’d been away. Long after dinner, and when it was finally dark, Elain felt herself begin to fall asleep, head dropping against Az’s shoulder every now and then. She jolted when he stood and put his hand out to her, much like she had earlier in the day. “I think it’s bedtime for you, sunshine.” All she could was nod and take his hand, slowly making herself stand which was something that was becoming a bit of a difficult task. Just as they reached the stairs, she turned her head back to look over her shoulder.

“It was lovely to finally meet you Mor.” The other girl grinned widely.

“And you. Now go get that beauty rest and make that idiot give you all of the massages.” Elain laughed before turning to make her way up the stairs. It took Az a little while longer, but he did it.

When they were finally settled in bed, he rolled carefully onto his side to face her, eyes sparking in the low light. His hand reached for her, bringing her close to him, before he teased her with slow, trailing fingers across her chest. “I’d quite gladly give you a massage, baby.” That devil of a hand dropped to the hem of his shirt that she was wearing, slipping his hand underneath, making goosebumps rise on her skin as it drifted up her stomach, settling on her breast and cupping her firmly. Elain’s breath hitched in her throat, swallowing dryly.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm.” He leaned in to place hot, opened mouthed kisses along her neck as she wrapped a leg around his hips. She pulled him in close, her own hands grabbing at his shoulders, dragging her nails down his back and revelling in the moan she received in return. His eyes darkened when she brought her face closer, her lips brushing his before she trailed them along his jaw, moving up to his ear and taking the lobe into her mouth and biting gently. Azriel moaned again, pushing his hips into her hers when she whispered against the shell of his ear.

“Do your worst, my love.”

-------

Ah Mor is here! Did you think she wouldn’t be here? She was there in my mind the whole time with this thing in my head about her outing but it just never appeared in the fic. I’m actually sorry it took me this long but, it’s just the way the story went.

Tags: @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll @stars-falling @lacewilde @verifiefangirl @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @fancyclodpaintercookie @acourtofterrasenandvelaris @silver-flames @queen-of-glass @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @b00kworm @kvi-arts @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @courtofjurdan @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @slightly-sane-fangirl @tanaquilpriscilla @my-fan-side @whimsyrhys @starrynightsbooks @maastrash @kendarbahr @elriel4life @illyriangarbage @thewayshedreamed @snowflakesandstarlight

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lotusthekat · 3 years

Text

Equivalent Exchange

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Rating: T

Relationships: Alphonse & Edward

Characters: Alphonse Elric, original minor characters, Edward Elric

Summary: Alphonse realizes he's no longer immortal in the most painful way.

*Slightly canon divergent as in that Ed keeps his automail

Word count: 1.649

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: I had this idea at literally 5 AM last night lmao. Basically I love Alphonse with my whole heart, and tbh I’m pretty sure he’d develop a huge guilt/hero complex after everything he went through.

I’m still new to this fandom, though, so I apologize if anyone is OOC. Hope you enjoy it!

(There might be some medical inaccuracies here though.)

TRIGGER WARNINGS - minor violence, major character injury, blood, near death experience, swearing and implied child abuse

Please do NOT ship the Elric brothers.

Alphonse can barely register anything at this point.

He’s running after the man pulling a little girl with him. Al’s legs move in spite of the unbearable, bleeding pain in his abdomen. The boy pushes past people who are barely interested in what’s happening.

Al screams after the man. The little girl is crying and trying to escape, but the man refuses to let her go. Al runs, but his body won’t resist for too long; he knows it, but he doesn’t stop.

His head is dizzy and heavy, and everything around him darkens. Al yells again, only it’s weakened. His legs don’t cooperate with him any longer and he almost trips, if not for the wall beside him. Al is panting, as sweat drops roll down his head. The man and the little girl are almost disappearing from his vision.

No, don’t stop! Go after them, you idiot!

His willpower isn’t enough to force his body to move. Al is soon on the ground, blood dripping on the pale sidewalk. People are whispering around him. They don’t approach.

All the boy hears, though, is the weight of his failure.

It’s what eventually makes him collapse.

The headache from the blazing light forces his eyes to open.

Then Al is, once again, in a hospital room. Except it’s a lot smaller, considering he’s not in the Central anymore. It might be the closest first aid post in his hometown, if he’s not mistaken.

The doctor speaks to him, explaining Al was stabbed, but that it’s not a huge cause of concern. He hasn’t lost too much blood, though it might hurt every now and then, so Al only needs to rest and not move a lot – specifically not run while with a stab wound, he lightly scolds.

Since Al is quite well-known from his time as an alchemist with Ed, the doctor doesn’t ask him who he is and tells him that they called his brother just now. Ed should be arriving soon.

Al nods again. He doesn’t say anything at all.

The doctor leaves him be, the room as quiet as the patient inside. Al’s hand reaches his bandaged stomach, lightly touching the cloth. Al doesn’t mind the pain from the wound. Not as much as the little girl’s horrified look is ingrained in his brain.

Al recalls what happened. He was doing groceries on his own – aside from wanting to take a walk in town, to breathe the air and feel the soft breeze. He would then go back home and have lunch with his brother and Granny Pinako, while Winry is back in Rush Valley. Al has been walking well as of late, so Ed wasn’t too insistent to come along.

It wasn’t supposed to go this wrong.

On the way, Al heard a little girl crying in an alley. She was so scared, and he tried to talk to her. Like that, the punch right to his face was really far from expected.

As it turned out, it was a middle-aged man that had assaulted him, and he grabbed the little girl’s arm with force. She was crying louder. He’s not sure now if he was her father, but it was still definitely infuriating.

Despite the pain, Al demanded he left her alone – and it only enraged the man more when he saw his face. Apparently, he’d once been under the military, and King Bradley’s fall disbanded many soldiers and officers. He also knew who Al was, so he despised him for “meddling in things that were none of his business”.

Al is no stranger to a fight, obviously. The problem is, he’s not a suit of armor anymore. That shouldn’t be a problem, of course, because he’s glad to be human again.

But being a human doesn’t absolve him of the hard and heartless punches he got, nor did it defend him from a stab right through his stomach. And worse, it was far from helpful to save the little girl.

And then Al was running after them, screaming, struggling to reach out to the small girl. He knew she was in danger, and he couldn’t let the man get away with her.

But Al is no longer immortal. He has no infinite stamina, and his body cannot take the same blows he did in the past. So, the stab wound was enough to knock him down. He couldn’t do anything to save her.

All he could do now, is to be stuck here hearing her cry from afar.

Al’s hands clutch the hospital clothes, inhaling and shutting his eyes fiercely.

…

Though, not going to lie, the loud running steps and a door opening wide do alarm him. But he’s quick to realize that his brother has arrived.

“Al!” Ed yells, rushing to his bed. “Al, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, brother,” Al replies numbly. “It’s nothing to be concerned about. The doctor said I just need to rest for a while before I can go home.”

Ed exhales. “Holy shit, Al,” he curses under his breath, clutching one of his blond bangs with his hand. “Care to tell me what the hell happened?”

Al doesn’t face him. He doesn’t think he can.

“Al,” Ed insists, clearly impatient, “they told me you ran after the guy while you were losing blood. Do you have any idea how reckless that was?!”

“As if you can tell me off for being reckless,” Al mumbles.

Obviously, it annoys Ed even more. “This is different, Alphonse! You’re not immortal anymore! You’re not invincible and you could actually die with no going back!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Al raises his voice.

“Then WHY did you do it?!”

Al has had it. “Because I needed to save the little girl, Ed!”

Ed is thrown off by the sincere, frustrated statement. “Little girl?” He asks, not sounding as angry as before.

“The man, he”— Al swallows a lump —“he had this little girl with him… I found her in an alley, and she was terrified. I wanted to help her but then he hit me. And when he realized who I was, he punched me and stabbed me; and then he ran away with her.”

The girl’s face is in his memory, her eyes wide, hurt, scared. His arms shake.

“All I could think, was that I had to save her,” Al explains. “I-I had to, Ed. B-But I couldn’t protect her. I collapsed and he got away.”

His brother’s presence is no longer loud. Ed’s expression is sympathetic and sorrowful. Al lowers his head, shame weighing onto him.

Ed approaches him and puts both hands on Al’s shoulders. “Oh, Al… I’m so sorry.”

Al can’t help but flinch at the metal touching his skin. Ed’s automail is cold and hard against his fragile human body. Ed couldn’t quite get his body parts back, but it’s something he doesn’t mind.

Al refuses to look up still.

“Brother,” Al opens his mouth before realizing. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I am more than grateful for getting my body back, and I would never reverse it. But…” The sniff that comes from him sounds child-like. “I know people are still out there to hurt others. To hurt us. But how can I protect them? H-How…” he hiccups, “h-how will I protect you, when I’m this useless?”

Ed’s hands still. “Alphonse…”

Al hides his face, unable to deal with this shame. He’s really useless to others. He can’t do anything, because he’ll definitely die, and people will get hurt because of him.

He knows everything is an exchange. Al might not be an alchemist anymore, but life is still based around it. In order to get his body back, Al gave up his immortality to grow up with his brother and his friends. He gave it up so he could be able to hug Ed again. So he could sleep and eat, and breathe. But when Al needs that strength again, he does not have it. He cannot save others. Like he couldn’t save a girl right in front of him.

What if people go after his family? What if they get to his brother? What will Al do?

Al’s endless guilt is quieted a little, however, once he’s pulled in a hug, his head lying against Ed’s chest. His older brother holds him tight around his shoulders, whilst he smooths Al’s short, blond hair.

“Al,” Ed speaks to him softly but firmly, “you’re the strongest person I know – with or without the armor. But you don’t need to risk your life to save us like you did before.”

“But she needed help, Ed,” Al sobs, “s-she needed…”

Ed sighs and hugs him closer. “I know. I’m sorry.”

They don’t let go for maybe an eternity. It takes a few more hours before Al is free to go. He can walk just fine, but he can’t run for his life again. In the meanwhile, Ed has his arm around the younger’s shoulders, watching everyone passing by like a hawk.

Al is far from feeling better. He doesn’t think he’ll recover from it, even if his brother might be right. At least Ed welcomes his grief, as they still think of past lives they lost in their journey.

The younger Elric remains silent. Ed doesn’t try to make him talk. He does get to reassure him with his presence and soft words.

“I’m going to take care of you now, okay?” Ed tells him. “You don’t need to fight anymore.”

Although Al is around the same height as Ed, he feels small as he hides his face in his older brother’s shoulder, like a child seeking for protection. His lip quivers and the tears fall silently. It might seem a little pathetic, but Al doesn’t pull his face away; and Ed squeezes him as well, kissing the top of his head.

#fullmetal alchemist #alphonse elric #edward elric #fanfiction #abuse mention tw #blood tw

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princeasimdiya12 · 4 years

Text

Hello! I’m sorry this took very long :[[[[. It took long because I actually write it only when an inspo comes in so I stop writing the fic from time to time! But I hope you like it and I’m sorry if I won’t pass your expectation 💓💓

The Huntsman and the Green Maiden (ToshInko Snow White AU)

When Toshinori told his self that he needed to work to save enough money, he didn’t expect it to be an assasination mission.

“It’s not an assasination mission,” the Evil Queen clarifies as soon as she sees Toshi’s skeptical face, “I just want you to get rid of her, that’s all.”

“It is…” Toshi spoke at the back of his head but chose to kept his mouth shut anyway.

“Why do you want to get rid of this…maiden badly?” Toshi asks as his fingertips play with the rim of his glass the Evil Queen has offered earlier.

The queen stares at the nosy huntsman, her eyebrows flinching slightly as she shrugged, “Just because.”

Upon hearing the townsfolk talk about how the palace is in need of skilled huntsmen, Toshi did not hesitate on heading to the queen’s palace. She always had a bad reputation on her people but Toshi, giving her the benefit of the doubt, went anyway and the result? He has proven that she indeed is evil as her name suggests.

Toshi is not clean to begin with. He has killed before with his bare hands. Any form of living as long as it is crucial for his survival. He has long retired from hunting but now that he needs the gold, he’s back from the start and somehow, he despises it.

“Will you take it, huntsman?” The Evil Queen says in a modulated voice that implies intimidation and dominance.

Toshi’s sunken eyes blinked once before exhaling heavily, “Yes.”

An impressed grin creeps in to the Queen’s lips, satisfied by the huntsman’s response, “Excellent. I want the job done in three weeks. The Magic Mirror says she hides in the magical forest, struggling to survive as of. I want you to find her and finish her,” she instructs with her voice laced with amusement.

“But I don’t know her face…” Toshi mutters.

“Oh, you will know once you see her,” now the Evil Queen sounds sarcastic as she clicked her tongue, “She’s the fairest maiden of them all, after all. Also, it’s hard for her not to stand out with her green hair.”

Ar first, you didn’t want to believe the Evil Queen. A person with green hair? Ridiculous. A maiden who hides in the middle of a magic forest? More ridiculous.

----

Huntsmen and adventurers try to avoid the magic forest as much as possible. As its name suggests, unknown forces of magic lurk around its trees. Stories of people who never returned from the forest increase from time to time and this sends shivers all throughout Toshi’s spine.

He’s never tried on going inside the forest himself. He’s never been in a situation wherein he needs to go.

“It’s not as eerie as the rumors make it sound…” Toshi thoughts to his self as he passes through thick roots of an old tree.

“Not bad…” Toshi rests after walking for hours, deciding to settle for a while under the shade of an enormous tree, wiping the sweat off of his forehead.

The rumors about the magic must be a bluff. He’s been walking on its domain for a while and so far? So good. No weird creatures suddenly appearing before him or whatsoever.

That’s what he thought.

Before he knew it, a striking pain hits his nape. He failed on reaching for his neck as his vision suddenly spins, confusing him. He tries to stand up, attempting to escape the unknown force that has attacked him but he fails once again as he falls to the ground, with his head hitting first.

He groans, slowly fluttering his eyes as he hallucinates of hearing laughter of children. Toshi tries to crawl but goes in to a halt when the illusion of laughter he heard goes louder and louder.

“Hell yeah! Die, you scum!”

“Wait, Kacchan!”

He couldn’t even distinguish if it’s his mind playing tricks with him or he actually hear children’s voices near him. Toshi then figures out it was the latter when he groans as a fistful of his hair gets pulled up.

“I WIN!” A blonde child literally speaks in front of Toshi’s face, making him close his eyes as droplets of his…Toshi would rather not know what it is splattered in to his face.

“NO ONE SURVIVES MY BOMB KILLING DART!” The blond child screams in a very chaotic manner Toshi couldn’t understand what the grinning child was trying to say.

“K-Kacchan! You’re not supposed to hurt people!” Another child with a frightened boy goes near this ‘Kacchan’. His green hair exploding all over as his round eyes glistened with tears.

“Huh? Don’t boss me around, dumb Deku!” Kacchan spats angrily as he lets go of Toshi’s hair.

Groaning, Toshi-who has recovered from the dizziness and the pain from his nape at this point-sits as he looks at the children in front of him.

“Bu-But, Kacchan-”

“What?! You want to die, huh?!” The aggressive Kacchan retorted as he flicks this Deku’s forehead, making the latter wince and the tears stream on his face.

“Kacchan!” He attempts on growling only to sound like a whine. Ignoring his friend, Deku glances at bewildered Toshi.

“Hello, Sir, are you lost?” He asks Toshi amidst his tears and his blushing forehead.

“DEKU, DON’T IGNORE ME, YOU-”

“No, I’m actually looking for someone,” Toshi groaned after inhaling, “Are you two from this forest?”

“OY, DON’T YOU USELESS SCUMS IGNORE ME-”

“We live here,” Deku cheerfully replies as he offers his hand adorned with wornout gloves, “My name is Deku, Sir. And that guy is Kacchan-”

“DON’T CALL ME KACCHAN-”

“It’s your name!” Deku points out before ignoring his comrade once again, looking at Toshi who unexplainably grinning glancing at the children in front of him, “Who are you looking for, Sir?”

Toshi looks away, finding it hard to reveal that he’s looking for the fairest lady, “I’m looking for someone…with green hair…”

Toshi and Deku both fell silent, staring at each other. Toshi then realizes that this Deku literally has green hair.

Swaying his hands furiously in the air and head shooking, “No…No… it’s not what you think.”

“Are you…” Deku says as he takes a step back, going beside Kacchan once again, his brows furrowed and his eyes wide clearly because of fear, “Are you here to kidnap me?”

“That’s not it!”

“Kacchan! He’s here to kidnap me!”

“I told you, it’s not it-”

“DIE, YOU BASTARD!”

----

That pretty much explains how Toshinori is following the lead of these two forest children as they take him to their home.

He couldn’t help but question if it was a right thing to follow them deeper in to the woods whenever he sees Deku and Kacchan have contradicting directions.

“We turn right!”

“N-No, Kacchan. Turn left before right-”

“ARE YOU SAYING I’M WRONG?”

Toshinori, silent at the back, only stares at the children bickering as they guide him along the misleading trees, telling him stories of their everyday adventures and few of their 'friends’ left behind the cottage.

In all honesty…Toshi couldn’t care less. He’s not very interested with Deku and Kacchan’s adventures, or the rest of their friends. The only reason he’s following these kids is…

“Feeling tired, Sir Toshi?” Deku looks back at him with his eyes beaming, beads of sweat adorning the side of his forehead as he jumps from a huge root, “Don’t worry, we’re almost there! We’ll let Inko heal your wound.”

“Hmph! If he couldn’t handle walks like these, then he doesn’t deserve to see Inko!”

“Kacchan!”

Right. The only reason he is here is for this lady who goes by the name Inko. When Deku invited him to his cottage, he wanted to refuse, finding it an unnecessary detour for his quest. But what caught his interest was that Inko is, according to Kacchan, a badass woman with green hair but is way more beautiful than dumb Deku’s.

Toshi’s speculation could be wrong but he is willing to take the risk. The way Kacchan has described this Inko totally fits the maiden the Evil Queen wants him to find.

“We’re here!” Deku exclaims the moment they see a poorly-made fence out of sticks surrounding a small cottage.

“Oy, stupid idiots!” Kacchan exclaims as he nonchalantly follows the path towards the cottage, “Were here!”

Toshi looks at Kacchan and Deku brisk walking towards the cottage in glee. He looks at the surroundings after. Tall trees surrounded the cottage adorned with different plants that he knew where edible. On the right side is where a well errects surrounded by small wooden chairs and different gardening tools. They basically have everything they need here to survive…

“Deku, Kacchan, welcome back! How was it?”

“Heh! It was boring!”

“It was fun! And Inko, I’m sorry. We weren’t able to get the flowers you requested!”

“Oh, Deku, it’s alright. Don’t cry, please!”

Enchanted by the sweet voice, Toshi took his gaze off the mesmerizing well, looking back at the cottage and with one glance, he immediately knew this was the fair maiden the queen was looking for.

“Bu-But we brought a friend! Toshinori, Sir!”

Not minding Deku’s call, Toshi’s eyes lingers at the woman named Inko. Indeed, she had beautiful green hair now that he sees it exploding with the gentle wind. Her green eyes are wide as she stares at him as if he were a puzzle meant to be answered. Her head slightly wobbling to the side which made Toshi look at her chubby cheeks.

“Deku…” Ah, he hears it again. Her voice sounded quite dreamy as he unconsciously took a step forward.

She knelt to match the children’s height, which was not really necessary given that her height is close with theirs. Her hands dragging Kacchan and Deku slowly towards her back as her curious eyes become wary of his presence.

“Who…who are you?” She asks. It was clear how terrified she was and yet, she remained firm looking at him.

He didn’t really care of how she sees him, honestly. She could be doing anything and he’d stare at her all day, completely mesmerized by her adorable frame.

But Toshi knew it was rude to remain silent especially if a lady has asked you. He clears his throat, hoping his voice is in its best condition even after that long walk, “Uh…I am-”

“That dumb scum is Toshinori and he’s a loser,” Kacchan cuts him off with an annoyed face.

“Kacchan!” Deku exclaims, clearly unimpressed of Kacchan’s indifference, “Inko, don’t listen to Kacchan. That’s Sir Toshinori, a friend! Also, Kacchan hit him in the nape with his slingshot.”

“It’s not a slingshot. It’s Bomb Killing Dart.”

“Oh my!” Now gone was the wary face of Inko. She looks at Kacchan with a horrified look in her face. Her brows pulled together as her hands gently went to his shoulders, “Kacchan, didn’t I tell you we don’t hit friends?”

Kacchan pouts beneath his scowling face, “He’s not a friend. He’s dumb!”

Inko’s brows furrowed deeper with an obvious frown in her lips, “Kacchan…” She speaks in a modulated voice, showing how she’s unimpressed.

Kacchan’s cheeks turns in to red as he becomes flustered, somehow feeling humiliated he is being lectured, “Fine!”

Kacchan looks at Toshinori, back with the disgusted face, “I’m sorry for hitting you with my Bomb Killing Dart.”

Toshinori, not really paying attention to his half-assed apology, gave the child a nod, “It’s alright. I wasn’t hurt.” What a load of bull as he remembers at the back of his mind how distorted he felt for a couple of seconds.

Snapping back in to reality, he stares at Inko in awe as she walks her way towards him. The ends of her skirt rustling against the trimmed grass. Her hair flying all around as she now holds his calloused hands.

“Soft…” Toshi comments at the back of his mind.

“I’m really sorry for what Kacchan did to you, Sir Toshinori!” Inko bows and you noticed how her hair is made stylishly with a small bun.

Toshi, breaking free from getting petrified for a good three seconds, becomes flustered as he registers Inko is holding his hands, “I-its alright! I don’t mind!”

“Thank goodness!” Now Inko stands straight, her face looking relieved with his answer. Her brows are up and a sweet smile creeps in to her lips, her eyes turning in to crescent moons.

A little repetitive but Toshi is in awe again now that Inko is literally only a couple of centimeters away from him. Being this close, he sees how her skin is very fair and how pretty the sunlight reflected in to her beautiful green eyes. Not to mention, her thin lashes casted soft shadows underneath, which made her look so beautiful.

“But we still must treat your wound!” Inko says as she snaps, frowning at you but in a funny manner, “Kacchan’s slingshots can sometimes be too-”

“BOYS, READY!”

Surprised after hearing another voice, Toshi’s gaze passes through Inko, going to the cottage’s doorway. He turns pale as he sees four? No, five children with different hand-made weapons with them, all aimed towards him.

“ATTACK!”

“B-Boys!” Inko screams as Kacchan pulls her away from him, giving clear path for the children, “No!”

----

“Here, Sir Toshi….”

Toshinori looks up at the red haired child who is offering him a plate filled with food they’ve prepared. Toshi couldn’t help but glare at the red head, especially with that annoying smirk. This red head was the one leading the other children earlier.

“Thank you…” He says but his furrowed brows, glaring sunken eyes, and frowned lips says otherwise.

The red head sheepishly chuckles as he blushes while scratching his spiky hair, “We’re sorry for earlier…Kacchan was silently telling us that you were a threat; so we did that…”

Kacchan. He shouldn’t have underestimated that boy. He knew that child was a problem but he didn’t expect him to be this much of a problem.

“And you believed him?”

Toshi now looks at the purple head child with a blank stare in his face, bringing with him a cup filled with water.

“Shinsou…” Red head pouts, cheeks getting redder than it was, “Well, you guys believed in me as well!”

“Because you were persistent and we didn’t really have a choice,” the purple boy in which the red head called as 'Shinsou’ nonchalantly replies as he offers Toshi his cup.

“On behalf of my friends, I apologize for their stupidity,” he respectfully bows.

“Oy, Shinsou, who are you calling dumb?!”

“You and Kacchan.”

“M-Mean! I am not dumb. I am manly! Kacchan will hear of this!” Red head looks at Toshi again. He swears the red child looks like getting drowned with the red tint in his skin.

“M-My name is Kirishima, Sir!” The red head exclaims while bowing once more, “Please excuse me!”

Not waiting for Toshi’s reply, Kirishima vanishes from his sight.

“Please eat until your hearts content, Sir Toshinori…” He looks back at Shinsou who is still standing in front of him.

“I’m…not that hungry,” Toshinori says while looking at his bruises.

With Kirishima on the lead, they mercilessly attacked him with all their might using their hand-made guns, swords, and catapults. Being a huntsmen, fighting would’ve been a piece of cake. BUT it’s a different thing when you fight in front of a beautiful maiden.

Beat from walking and from Kacchan’s…Bomb Killing Dart, plus the children’s ambush, covered with bruises all over his body, of course he’d lose his appetite to eat.

“I don’t really care if you’re full or not,” Shinsou says with an indifferent tone, his eyes wandering around, “But Inko keeps on asking us to check on you. I can’t sleep well if she does that.”

Completely surprised, Toshinori immediately looks for Inko, only to catch her watching him. Both Inko and Toshinori taken aback of how the other caught them staring, they both looked away in synch.

“Thank you…” Toshinori says to Shinsou in a low voice, looking down, trying to conceal the blush in his cheeks.

At that moment, the quest could’ve ended if he killed Inko at that cottage. But there were things he had to consider, like the children. He was certain despite of their small physique, they would not hesitate on protecting Inko as she had become their mother.

----

“We own the cottage,” Shoto, one of the seven children, says in with his eyes looking down, fingers running through the grass as his feet is submerged in to the river, “Then we found Inko.”

“Wounded! And exhausted!” Testutetsu, who is oddly very similar with Kirishima’s physique and appearance-wise, screams in order to catch his attention.

Keeping his hands steady while holding the rod, Toshi looks at Tetsutetsu, “You found her?”

Shoto nods, the reflection of the crystal blue river reflecting on his eyes, “We treated her wounds and she didn’t leave us ever since. We like it, though,” he says with a small smile, “She takes care of us.”

“But there’s one thing that we don’t know about Inko,” Kirishima butts in with Denki, the seventh child, leaning on his back.

“We don’t know where Inko is from or what her life was before being with us,” Denki says, playing with the tips of Kirishima red hair.

“Deku thinks she was a princess…” Denki whispers as if they shouldn’t be heard, “Kacchan doesn’t buy it. He says Inko is a badass lady who rules the drunkards.”

“I don’t think Inko is in to that lifestyle…” Kirishima says with a doubting smile, “I think she is a princess, too!”

“But if she is a princess, why would she wander in to the magic forest?” Shoto asks hypothetically which made Kirishima and Denki shut up.

“What do you think, Toshinori, Sir?” Tetsutetsu asks, looking to Toshinori.

Toshi keeps his eyes glued at his bait, floating in the river, as if trying to avoid their looks. The guilt he has been disregarding for days creeps up into his heart, making him grip his rod tighter, his teeth digging to his flesh.

“I don’t know…” He says with gritted teeth.

He knew he was lying. He could easily get rid of the children if he wishes to. He has killed men and animals that are hundred times stronger than he is. Killing children would’ve been a piece of cake for him.

He knew that he purposely made excuses just for him to disregard the main purpose of his presence at this magical forest: to kill the fairest maiden of them all.

----

Undeniably, Inko is enchanting. But Toshi knew it was not all with the looks or with her mysterious green hair. It was with how kind she was to anything she touches, how gentle her words could be and how she resembled home to anyone.

It is true. Because he himself felt it, especially now as he stares at Inko, patiently waiting for him and the children, Kacchan and Deku’s heads on her lap. Her smile, gleaming brightly as ever as her shoulders raise in joy, waving at them. Nostalgic memories of Toshinori’s younger years flashes before his eyes with the mere exposure under Inko’s warmth.

“It feels like…” Toshi whispers under his breath, slowly taking off the net filled with fishes from his shoulders.

“HOME!” Kirishima, Denki, and Tetsutetsu screams as they run towards their cottage, leaving behind them the bashful Shoto.

“Children!” Inko giggles as Kirishima, Denki, and Tetsutetsu shower her with pepper kisses.

Kacchan and Deku groans as they get disrupted on their sleep, “YOU DUMB IDIOTS!” Kacchan growls, standing with his death glare on.

“K-Kacchan!”

“Ah! We woke Kacchan up!” Kirishima screams.

“RUN!”

“DIE!”

Your eyes trail towards the children who are now running away from Kacchan. Their loud laughter echoing across the terrain as they dance around the grass, bathing under the sun.

“Shoto…”

He looks at Inko who is now caressing Shoto’s arms. Again with that familiar smile in her face. Of all the looks she gave, that was Toshi’s favorite expression.

“Go play with the rest…” She coos using her soft voice, tucking her green hair behind her ear.

Shoto gives a curt nod before running towards the direction of his brothers, leaving Inko and Toshinori alone at the cottage’s doorstep.

Suddenly realizing this fact, Toshi stiffened, heart beat slightly raising as he stops his lips from grinning.

“Toshinori, thank you…”

Baffled, he looks at Inko. Her lips in a smile in between her flushed cheeks.

“For…?” Toshi asks, his brows slightly furrowed.

“For catching fish for us…” She chuckles, slightly scratching her cheek with her small finger, “We don’t really eat fish that much. No one is that excellent in catching fishes, not even Kacchan…” She says in a joking manner.

Toshi couldn’t help it. He smiles as he looks at Inko’s face. Slowly, he sits beside Inko, disregarding the fact that he’s slightly bothered by how close he is to him and how ridiculously small he is next to her. She would definitely fit in to his frame even though he is skinny himself-

Toshinori shook his head, trying to shake away his thoughts. Focus…focus…

“It’s nothing…” Toshi says nonchalantly, his eyes on the children who seem to be playing tag, “I…liked it,” he admitted.

“That’s good…” She comments, her face resting at her palms as she pulls up her knees, “The kids like you…”

Toshi made a face as he remembered how Denki and Kirishami pulled a prank on him on their way home. Not to mention, the way they treated him when they first met.

“I doubt that…” He spatted bitterly.

Inko chuckles, her shoulders slightly shaking along, “That’s not true. They like you. The moment you were able to catch a wild boar, you immediately captivated their hearts. They love meat,” she pointed out with as-a-matter-of-fact-voice.

Giving Inko a side glance, Toshi says, “You really love them, do you?”

Inko nods, “Very. I owe them my life. If it weren’t for them, I might not be here…” She says, the smile in her eyes slowly disappearing.

Toshi couldn’t help but to look away. Somehow, he feels guilty, especially that he knows the reason why she is at this state.

“I…grew up from a…bad place. I was banished from where I lived, you know…” Inko talks despite of Toshi’s silence, “I spent all my life inside the walls of my home and when they asked me to leave, I didn’t know what to do and before I knew it, I found myself wandering the magic forest.”

Toshi glances at Inko again, catching her fingers interlacing playfully from one another. Her eyes clearly in pain as she talks about her past.

“Then I woke up with Kacchan snuggled under my arms,” she laughs, “These seven children brought me to their cottage and before I knew it, I became attached.”

“Understandable,” Toshi nods, “They leave an impression,” he agrees, slowly looking at Inko who looked at him as well.

His blond hair slightly being swayed by the wind, he stares in to her eyes. Hoping he’d find answers to his confusion, of how troubled he is of what he is supposed to do next.

“You leave an impression…” He muttered so softly, not breaking his stare at her. Which made him see how her cheeks flushed with red tint.

“You leave an impression, too…” She says, completely flustered with how her voice went high, “… Toshinori, Sir.”

----

Living with the seven children and the fairest maiden in the middle of the magic forest felt like a bliss. A daydream he always had in his mind whenever he was out to hunt. A place he always envisioned whenever he was sick or was feeling nostalgic in a hot afternoon.

“Inko is good at making pumpkin pie!” Deku exclaims as he dreamily thinks of it, “She makes them so good I always ask for more!”

“You just love eating, Dumb Deku,” Kacchan says in an upset tone as he walks along Shoto, “It’s not that great!”

“Not that great? Quit being a liar, Kacchan. Real men don’t lie!” Kirishima snickers as he brings the smaller net filled with fish, “Plus, you also ask for more with Inko’s food!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do!”

“YOU STUPID TURD, I DON’T-”

“Inko?”

The wild bickering of Kacchan and Kirishima went in to a halt upon hearing Shinsou’s surprised voice. Before they all knew it, they have arrived in front of the cottage.

Trailing after Shinsou’s stare, Toshinori looks to the cottage, only to be taken aback to see Inko spilled on the doorstep, barely conscious.

“Inko!” The Kirishima, Kacchan, Deku, Tetsutetsu, and Denki screamed as they dropped the fish and meat they’ve hunted from the forest, running towards the woman who has become their mother figure.

“No…” Toshinori muttered under his breath. Knees wobbling, palms suddenly sweating, and a large amount of hair suddenly caught in his throat. Somehow, an idea flashes in to his head…

“Toshinori, Sir…”

Snapping out from his thoughts, he looked down when a small warmth touches his hands. He sees Shinsou and Shoto, looking up to him, fear evident in their eyes.

Without saying anything, he drags them along, running as fast as he can towards Inko.

He hears the children’s cries as they surrounded the beautiful woman. They loudly screamed her name in the hopes that it would wake her up but to no avail.

Shaking, Toshi lets go of Shoto and Shinsou’s hands as he pulls Inko’s frail body, making her lean towards his lap.

“No…” He muttered, lips shaking as his fingers trail on her unconscious face, “She found her…” He said as realization dawned on him.

The queen…she might have grow impatient and…looked for Inko herself.

“We lost her…” He said, slumped in despair as the world was drowned with the screams of the seven scared boys around him.

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veterveter · 3 years

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YO MANU THIS FINALLY CAME THROUGH I'LL LIKE READ AND DO COMMENTARY AND EDIT THIS LATER BUT I WANTED TO POST IT WHILE I HAD IT!!!!

Bless, tumblr finally working for you.

Anyway, here's the post from @delirious-and-slightly-murderous

So seeing as Tumblr hates me, I'm trying this darling, hope it reaches you.

So just read rat king.

[You should all totally read rat king if you haven't yet, it's fun I promise :) But also read Manu's commentary on it!!]

Tuuli I hope you know I love you and completely adore you and I am in awe of you but right now I HATE YOU.

You broke me AGAIN. And I was just mending myself.

This was great and beautiful and fantastic and completely awful and the worst thing I've ever seen in my life.

I'm crying.

So now I'm going to make a habit of coming to scream at you on tumblr every time you post something.

You already know how I feel about your characterization and Andrés' POV and the angst. So there, it applies here too.

Here we go you awful and magnificent goddess.

“Martín,” Sergio clarified, moving up his glasses, the prescription of which was much too weak for his continuously worsening eyesight, “I think you should stop sleeping with him: Yes, Segio and his judgement. That couldn't not be there. But Andrés and Martín are sleeping together? I know this is going to hurt.

Martín was a constant in his life, something carried over from before. Martín? Martín wasn’t a problem; Martín was the only one thing that was good: at least here he appreciates him. Thank god.

Before, he would have found some entirely healthier way of loving his soulmate. Maybe they would have even had an old-world relationship, eventually. Andrés felt like he might have liked that, once. He knew Martín would have loved it: 😭 I want this for them and it hurts that it's simply not going to happen. I'm afraid of the MCD tag, Tuuliiiiiiiiiiii! Who did you kill, you murderous genius?

Andrés needed Martín, desperately. Too desperately to love him the way he should have: I'm going to die. He could at least try but nooooo, god forbid the day Andrés de Fonollosa makes things simple for anyone.

Andrés could see the way orgasms had loosened some of the tensions that so often gripped his body, and he hoped Sergio could too.😏

If Andrés had to choose only one, he would have certainly chosen— : repressed asshole. I hope that was going to end with the word Martín. Why are you even getting married? What's even the point. But I see Andrés will continue to be emotionally stunted even when the world is ending.

Martín and Sergio had gotten along well, before. Andrés could remember so many pleasant evenings, just the three of them and a bottle of wine. But ever since they had to move to this base, the tensions had been palpable. They were both desperately trying to keep them alive, but were constantly disagreeing on the how: I'm starting to like Sergio more than Andrés here, how is that possible? How? See what you do Tuuli?

He turned around at the doorway and left the room, because he had no doubts about it: they would listen to him: Andresito, you are being too egocentric, this is not going to end well, for anyone.

Andrés understood just enough to know he was proud.: I don't know how to feel about this Andrés. I can't.

Andrés always tried not to take the slights of this brave new world personally – it was cruel, but they all had to endure loss of unspeakable magnitude – but this? Having to choose between his Martín and his brother?: Oh no, Oh no, NO. This isn't fair. Why do I get the terrible feeling we already know who he's going to choose? Please DON'T do this.

Andrés knew with unwavering certainty that either one of them would be willing to do it, and that they would consider it a great big favour to Andrés, and not the horrifying curse it truly was. He was the one who would have to pay the ultimate price, and live, knowing how much it had cost: Everything always has to be about you, doesn't it Andrés. You fucking deserve it.

Andrés could appreciate such a malleable room, because it reminded him of Martín, who always became what Andrés needed him to be.😡😭💔

Martín had never cared about plants, before. Actually, he seemed to have held a certain disdain for them. He had always said they were stupid and lifeless. Now he was looking at these ones, their lifeline, and he was filled with reverence and sorrow. If Andrés could have given him one thing, he would have liked to return to him his complete disregard for flora, and all the things it had since then come to imply: This hurts, and not only for obvious reasons. But nature? Fuck right in the feels.

Martín was entirely too pretty to look like this. They hadn’t even been having sex, because suddenly Martín looked like his eternally calcium-deficient bones might now break from the strain. Pretty Martín yeah! And you are a genius. Now this is my official headcanon as to why Martín drinks milk, he has fragile bones, the poor baby.

The weird walking corpse at the table smiled, and it almost made him resemble Martín.: He's already halfway dead. The MCD tag is him isn't it? I hate you Tuuli.

Andrés had to remind himself that he was lucky to have this. He may have had so many better things, before, but now he had this, and that was good. They had it better than most, him and Martín, for they had each other. Andrés still had his brother, and now he would have his wife, too. He was lucky: Not for long, buddy. And you deserve it. Poor Sergio I normally hate him but gosh.

“No,” Andrés said without waiting for a single beat, because he couldn’t let Sergio think he considered it. Even though he almost— “No, I don’t. I want you two, both of you, to figure out a way. A different way.”: He loves them both and he accepts it? Why does the world have to be ending.

Andrés tried not to think too much about Martín from before, but sometimes he did anyway. That night, as he wrapped his arms around Martín’s pathetic, weak and shivering frame, he thought about his true soulmate, the one this body had once belonged to.: Now I understand Martín sacrificing himself is the only way. He's already dead. And because of Andrés no less. How tragic.

Andrés had never said it back.

That night, he didn’t say it back.: Now Martín is going to die and it'll be horrible isn't it? Tuuli I want to murder you.

I’m so sorry, Andrés,” Sergio said quietly, slowly reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder.

Andrés recoiled from it, sharply. “No,” he snapped, “No. We are all going to die. Say those words, Sergio. We are all going to die.” He had made his peace with death long ago. There were worse things, many things so much more horrifying—

“We are not all going to die,” Sergio said, “The generator—” His words were cut off by Andrés’s hand on his throat, squeezing.: You are the king of denial, bad decision, being stupid, emotionaly stunned and not appreciating your soulmate enough Andrés. You deserve all the pain.

“He doesn’t deserve that,” Andrés said, his voice breaking again as he thought of it, Martín’s body, his corpse, frozen and preserved like that for as long as they would live. Martín, out there, while Andrés was in here, unable to ever go and give him even a proper burial. He had always been able to give Martín so little, and in death he would fail him yet again: I really have no words for this. But Martín being forever preserved out there and Andrés knowing that and not being able to mourn him. That is genius and it hurts and it's the perfect ending for them.

Andrés had never told him. Not once. How could he be certain that Martín had known? How could he insist that Martín, the brightest of them all, had known, when Andrés had never told him? Martín operated in words – how could Andrés have forced him to read his love in a language he didn’t even speak?: Now you confront your feelings too late, like always you repressed asshole. You deserve all the pain.

God, he wished Martín hadn’t been so bright. That he had been an idiot, dim-witted and slow like the rest of them.

Then the two of them would have let all of humanity perish.: You already murdered me with 'stay a while' and now this. Tuuli I'm coming back as a vengeful ghost and haunting your perfect ass.

So yeah, I don't have words but that's what I could spit out.

And Tuuli, you know the thing I showed you about the spider? Well when I finished reading this I was crying and wailing. My professor came running because he thought it was another spider or something even worse like a serpent.

When he asked what was going on I was in such a state I could only say 'rat' like a dumbass.

RAT.

Like seriously? And when he asked again I said Rat king fic and pointed vaguely to my phone.

He thought I was talking about an actual rat.

So imagine this. We are there, at night (in Costa Rica nightfall is around 6:00pm all year round, so now it's 9:00pm and here in the tropical rainforest it gets Dark), camping in the middle of nowhere in the wild with a tropical storm falling over our heads and I start crying about Rats.

Congratulations Tuuli, you put me in such a state that I managed to send the whole of 9 biologists into a frenzy, frantically checking out the tents over an imaginary giant rat.

It was literally terror in the jungle.

I wanted the earth to shallow me. I didn't know how to explain that all that circus was because of a fucking fic.

I think now I no longer have satelital internet rights.

I hate you.

(P.S: But don't worry I still absolutely adore you, even if now I am the laughing stock of my fellows 🥰😘♥️)

Here have my friend the spider to show how I'm feeling.

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oingo233 · 4 years

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By The Lake*Part Three

Summary: A family friend offers you a place to stay to get away from an abusive past. Her home is a place that you are familiar with, an old town with a large lake you spent many days in. You went there years ago for one full summer, where you became close friends with a very young Daryl Dixon. You two were inseparable until you had to leave. But now you’re back, escaping from a past much like his. You will need to weave your way through the town's problematic people, your own problems, and above all the confusing Dixon. Will you two find your way back to each other again? Or will he push you further away? And above all, will your past cease to haunt you?

Part one * Part Two * Part Four * Part Five

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse and violence(potential triggers), cussing, more mature themes(not smut or anything tho), slow burn romance

Authors Note: Daryl Dixon is a character from the amazing show The Walking Dead, but this story is modern AU so not with all the walkers and everything. I don’t own and I didn’t create his character. Also this story is in no means meant to romanticize abuse, that stuff isn’t romantic. It is such a terrible, terrible thing, but it is sadly a very common thing as well. Throughout this series I only hope that I can spread awareness about the matter, and let people know that they aren’t alone, things will get better, and that no one is deserving of any kind of abuse. Ever. Anyways, I’m done with my rant, I hope y’all like it, and if not please send in some constructive criticisms I’m always looking to improve.

Word Count: 1.7k

*******************************************************************************************

I woke up to the kids screaming, at the cabin door for me to come out. I quickly put on a bra and open the door in my pajamas. Cherry was standing there in a pantsuit with Monty and Rosie by her side.

“Jesus (Y/N), it’s nearly 10.” She shakes her head at me and pushes the kids inside the cabin.

“What! That early.” I joke, but she only humored me with a sarcastic open-mouthed laugh. I run a hand through my messy hair and apologize.

“I’ll make a point to wake up early. But y’all weren’t exactly detailed on the job description.” I point to the kids. She kisses the kids goodbye on the head and stands up to face me again.

“Well my job description implies that I should have left 10 minutes ago. And no, it is not you’re fault.” She glares at her kids and then glances over her shoulder.

“Mark didn’t help me at all this morning. Daryl came over earlier than usual, something bout having less time than he thought. Whatever, my point it that the kids are your problem now.” She smiles at me then bolts out the door before Monty or Rosie can chase after her. I watch her car leave with a sense of dread and excitement. How in the heck am I supposed to keep these guys from dying of boredom?

I stare at the two of them, Rosie is sitting on my bed, and and looking out the window right into the lake...The lake! Cherry said how Rosie loves to swim, and I’m sure Monty wouldn’t mind spending this hot day in the water. Even Mark said a day in the lake would keep them happy.

“Would you guys like to play in the lake today?” Rosie jumps off the bed and screeches a yes, while Monty looks at me with puppy eyes and nods his head a million times. I match my excitement to theirs and usher them outside. I get dressed into my bathing suit, while they sit on the porch waiting. I don’t bother with a shirt after my bathing suit is on, I just put on some shorts and sandals.

As soon as I walk outside Monty and Rosie hop off the chairs and wait for me to lock the door. When I’m done they grab both of my hands and drag me to their house. We nearly tripped five times getting there, but finally the house came into view. Sounds are coming from the open garage not too far away. Some tool was going off and when it stopped a voice filled it’s place. Daryl’s voice. My heart dropped, he sounds a bit different but I could tell his voice from a mile away. I shake my head from any thoughts of him and walk us all forwards. The front door was unlocked so we went inside.

“Alright you two, I want you to go put on your suits and sunblock. Grab anything else you want, and I’ll make us a picnic. You guys like that plan?” Rosie and Monty looked at each other, nodded, then took off sprinting to their separate rooms.

5 minutes later I had two sandwiches done, and 3 bottled waters beside them. I run a mental list of what I need, towels, extra sunblock, food, water, a camera, maybe some toys, and whatever else I can think of. I finish the last sandwich and grab some fruits and snacks from the fridge, which Cherry and Mark said I have free reign of. I had my camera in the bag I brought, and I saw some sunblock in the bathroom last night. All I need are the towels.

I spent several more minutes trying to find those damned things, but couldn’t see them anywhere. I brace myself for what is to come. I have to ask Mark, and Mark is with Daryl.

I make my way outside of the house and towards the open, metal shed. I can see the body of the car just slightly sticking out of the garage. I brace myself as I walk in. Instead of my eyes finding Daryl's again, they are faced with Marks hunched over back. Daryl was no where to be seen. Mark was bent over the hood, fixing something with the engine I guess.

“Uh, Mark?” I call over the loud noises. Mark whips around and nearly hits his head on the open hood of the car. He chuckles to himself and gives me a warm smile. He has oil up the back of his neck, and cheek.

“Oh, hey (Y/N).” Suddenly the loud noise stops and Mark and I hear a loud crash, followed by a sheepish “ow”. Mark leans over the car.

“You alright Daryl?” My cheeks burn red as Daryl emerges from under the car. He had grease and dirt all over him, covering his deep blush, the sight of him took my breath away. If I thought he was cute at 14...well, if my 13 year old self saw him now, I don’t even know what she would do. Daryl avoids eye contact with me, but nods to Mark.

“M’ fine.” He mumbles. He shuffles his feet and the air seems thicker, like he also thought this should be going different. We should be hugging, and catching up. But instead we can’t even look at each other without wanting to drool, or runaway.

Mark turns to me, eyeing the two of us with a sly smile. I can only imagine how Cherry talked us up to be. I fight the urge to roll my eyes at the thought of Cherry telling Mark all about Daryl and I when we were younger.

“Something wrong with the kids?” Mark asks me. I quickly shake my head.

“No, they’re inside getting ready for the lake. We’re going to be over there if you need us.” I suddenly forgot my question for Mark when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daryl trail his eyes over me, taking me in. I could watch him all day, looking at me like that. Maybe I should wear this bathing suit more often.

“That all?” Mark asks me kindly. I laugh stupidly, god I was standing there like an idiot.

“Uhm no, sorry. I was wondering where the towels were?”

“Oh sure thing. Let me go get them for you.” Before I could stop him, Mark is out of sight and going towards the house. Anxiety courses through me as I turn to Daryl. But all those feelings go away when we lock eyes, we were friends once, why the hell am I so nervous? He isn't a stranger, right? Neither of us said a word, I wanted to say hi, or something witty but I just couldn’t get a word out. He looked at me different, his mouth pulled in a thin line instead of that easy smile he wore years ago. He was the first to break the silence.

“How long you stayin’ this time?” His voice was harsher than I ever remember it being. It takes me a second to gather my wits.

“I don’t know Daryl.” I thought I saw his chest still when I said his name, like he was holding his breath. But he lets out a dry laugh and looks to the floor again.

“Why you slummin’ it anyway?” He said with his eyes trailing around us, then finally setting to a glare at me. His question felt like he poked me with a sharp stick. Who did he think I was?

“This ain’t slumming it Daryl.” I say sharply, he rolls his eyes and and scoffs. A bitter sound.

“Then why’d you make to leave so quick?” He shoots back. Before I could speak he cuts me off. “Nah, I bet you couldn’t wait to go back. Princess goes back to her castle, leaving the lot of us behind.” He sets his tool down and walks around the car, getting closer to me as he spoke. “Like wiping your hands of fucking filth aint’ it.” He seethed at me. I feel my own anger rise, why was he being like this?

“You think I wanted to leave you! That I wanted to leave this place. Daryl you were my friend, my best friend. I would’ve stayed if I didn’t have school, you know that.” I say. His jaw clenches and he walks behind me, bumping my shoulder, he grabbed a rag and wiped his hands from grease. He smells like gas, sweat and cigarettes.

“Ya, well I don’t want no friends. You ain’t no different from any of ‘em!” He couldn’t look at me now, he threw the towel down on the table and walked back around to where he was before I disrupted him. My chest heaved and constricted. How could he say that? I had to go so many years ago, I had to leave him...

Mark cheerfully walks in with a stack of colorful towels in his arms. Clearly oblivious to the tension in the room.

“Here ya go!” He hands the towels to me and a Coke to Daryl. “Back to business then?” Mark jokes. Daryl grunts a reply and picks up his tool again, giving me the cold shoulder. I hold a snarky comment back and turn to Mark.

“Thanks Mark. I’ll get out of your way then.” I say the last part a bit harsher than I meant to, but It wasn’t directed towards Mark.

I rush out of there, and take a few seconds to breath. I refuse to cry, this is going to be a good day. I walk back to the house to see Rosie standing there in a blue, ruffled bathing suit, and Monty in green swim trunks. He was holding onto a large dinosaur floatie, that looked more like the loch ness monster. I beam at their cuteness, feeling better already. I tell them to hold on while I go inside to finish putting the picnic things in a bag. I was only gone a couple of minutes before I walk out to find them with white streaks all over their body. In my absence they put sunblock on, badly may I add. I laugh and help them rub it in.

You three make your way to the lake, completely oblivious to Daryl’s gaze, and his sad, hidden smile, as he watched you walk away.

#daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl imagine #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon&reader #romance #angst #teen romance #young norman reedus #young daryl dixon #dary dixon fanfic #dary dixon/reader #twd fic #twd fandom

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crazy-little-cool-cat · 4 years

Text

Gold Digger - Chapter 8 | Gwilym Lee x OFC

A/N: What? Double upload? In one day? YES. Surprise, lovies! Also, I won’t be able to upload next week, so I decided to give you all a treat. There will be an ask game once this is posted, too.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use, implied smut?

Word Count: ~2K

The Playlist (Updates Regularly)

Chapter List: Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

"You're bleeding!"

Lizzie looked down at the back of her hand and sighed. She hadn't noticed she started picking at a scab, leftover from when one of the kids scratched her during a playground fight a few days prior. She got up with a groan and went to the sink to wash the blood off and press a paper towel to the wound.

She was absolutely shattered. Lizzie wasn't sure if it was just exhaustion and burnout or if Gwilym not really speaking to her all week had anything to do with it. She tried to reach out, only to have him tell her he's busy every time. At some point, she decided to give it up. If Gwilym wanted to see her, he knew where to find her.

"Will you be okay while I'm gone?" Shelly looked genuinely concerned for her best friend's well-being.

"Yes, Shells. Thanks," Lizzie nodded. "It's not like you'll cancel the trip anyways."

"Yes, but the guilt trip..." Shelly's voice drifted as she looked at her friend's fallen face. "He'll call you, you know."

"I must've come on to him too strong. Asking him to spend the night like some... some... some floozy!"

"Nonsense," Shelly snickered. "He probably is just busy, babe. Don't overthink it."

"Too late!"

"My taxi will be here any minute now. Are you sure you're alright?" Shelly asked again.

"Yes, I'm fine!" Lizzie rolled her eyes and started pushing Shelly towards the door. "Go! Tell Joe I said hello!"

"Hopefully Joe won't remember who you were when I'm done with him..." Shelly muttered as Lizzie pushed her out the door and closed it in her face. "That was rude!"

"Have a safe flight!" Lizzie's muffled voice came through.

Shelly laughed and pulled up her luggage's telescopic handle.

_______

Electric blue eyes stared into baby blue eyes. Gwilym had invited Clara out for lunch to talk the Jamie situation out and it was not going as well as he'd hoped it would. The conversation quickly turned to Clara's concerns about Lizzie's motives. Gwilym bit the inside of his cheek as he counted to 10 in his head, not letting Clara's words rile him up. Or at least attempting to remain calm while he had his own doubts, thanks to her and Ben.

"The fact Ben thinks so, too, speaks volumes, my love." Clara shrugged and pursed her lips.

"Don't call me that." Gwilym snapped. "You have no say in the matter. You left me, Clara."

"That doesn't mean I don't care for you anymore," Clara said, her eyes playfully twinkling. "Or that I don't love you anymore."

"I know what you're trying to do," Gwilym announced and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not going to work."

"What?"

"You can't leave me and expect me not to date anyone else, ever again, Clara!"

"That's not what I'm doing," she smiled sweetly and put her hand on top of his. "I do still love you."

"I'm not going to sit around and wait for you to finish playing these silly little games," Gwilym retracted his hand from under hers. "And, like I said when you left - I'm not going to be put 'on hold' until you figure out what it is you want."

"I'm not expecting you to, it's just..." She paused as she tried to organize her thoughts. "Merida? Is that what you want, really?"

"Her name is Lizzie."

"Right, Merida."

"You're an insolent child, for fuck's sake!" Gwilym shook his head in frustration. "Look, I don't know what her motives are, alright? I just know that she's beautiful, she wants the same things I do and -"

"She's not me, though." Clara shrugged nonchalantly. "Nor will she ever be."

"Thank God!" Gwilym clasped his hands and looked up at the ceiling. "One of you is more than enough."

_____

Joe was like a rubber ball, bouncing around as he waited for Shelly in the arrivals hall. He felt like he could explode just from the anticipation. He didn't tell anyone about his plans to fly Shelly out to him, and he had no one to share his excitement with. Not even Annie or Rory. He saw a flash of her behind a group of people and stretched his neck up, trying to spot her again. He almost jumped out of his skin when she showed up at his side.

"Hello, hello," she drawled.

"Hi!" Joe gave her an awkward side hug. "I didn't see you there!"

"I can tell, you almost hung from the light fixtures."

"I can't believe you're here!" he put his hands on her shoulders and searched her face for any sign of her being a hologram. "This is crazy!"

"I'm crazy like that," Shelly smirked. "Plus, a free flight to the states? Count me in!"

"I planned so much stuff to do. You're about to have the best weekend of your entire life." Joe tapped on the tip of her nose with his finger.

"Oh, yeah?" Shelly asked, taking his other hand off her shoulder and intertwining her fingers with his. "Lead the way, then."

_____

'Not sure what it is I did or didn't do, but if you don't want to see me or talk to me anymore, you really should say so. I deserve that, at least.'

Lizzie bit her bottom lip and sent the text, her hands slightly shaky. She was drunk and lonely. She thought the silence without Shelly will be calming - but it only unnerved her that much more. She turned the volume up on the telly for more background noise and grabbed the bottle of wine to take a long swig. Glasses be damned.

'I know I disappeared, and I know it's shitty, but it's not what you think it is.' Gwilym replied.

'I asked you to spend the night and you bolted right out and never spoke to me again.'

'Are you home?'

'Yes.'

'I'm coming over in a jiffy.'

Lizzie scoffed as she powered the screen off. Her mind was racing. On the one hand, the thought of seeing Gwilym again made her excited and giddy. On the other hand, she was absolutely livid with him. She glared at the door when the bell rung through her flat.

"Hi," Gwilym greeted her at the door, his eyes soft.

"Hello." Lizzie stared at him coolly.

"Is it alright if I come in?" He asked apprehensively. Lizzie stepped aside to let him pass. She closed the door behind him and crossed her arms, keeping a safe distance from him. "Have you been drinking?"

"Yes." She replied curtly.

"Alone?"

"Yes. Why are you interrogating me?" She countered.

"I'm not," Gwilym flushed slightly. "I understand you're cross with me..."

"Cross?" Lizzie scoffed. "I'm fucking hurt."

"I'm so sorry," he sat down on the sofa and beckoned her over. "I just..."

"Where were you?" Lizzie obliged and sat on the other end of the sofa, shrinking as far away from him as she could. "I called and I texted and you just ignored me!"

"I needed to think."

"About what?!”

"Why do you fancy me?"

"Pardon?" Lizzie raised an eyebrow, unsure if she heard correctly.

"Why do you fancy me, Liz?" Gwilym repeated.

"Are you joking right now?" Lizzie glared. "What kind of question is that?!" "Is it because of who I am or because of me?"

"I think you might be drunker than I am," Lizzie muttered.

"You know what I mean." Gwilym fired back. "And the fact that you won't answer the question -"

"You think I only want you because you're famous?" Lizzie chortled. "You're bonkers. A bloody loon."

"Well, I -"

"I was so afraid that this would happen and it fucking did. Christ!" Lizzie brushed her curls away from her face. "You stupid idiot, I don't care about your celebrity status!"

"You avoided me like the plague at first, then you're all over me..."

"Because I thought you had no job and no money, you bloody tosser!" She hissed. "You don't know me or my heart. How dare you even assume..."

"I'm sorry." Gwilym cut her off. "I'm sorry. My friends got in my head. You were acting so... different."

"Your friends?"

"Clara." Gwilym clarified sheepishly.

"You're friends with your ex?" Lizzie blinked in confusion.

"Not exactly friends... It's complicated," Gwilym shook his head. "Look, I was just with her, I told her off about it -"

"You were with her?!" Lizzie guffawed. "Gwilym, you should leave."

"It's not what you think, I was with her to tell her to stop doing what she's doing to me!"

"What is she doing to you, exactly?" Lizzie raised an eyebrow and squinted.

"Holding me back." Gwilym shrugged.

"From what?"

"Well, this," Gwilym said and lunged forward, closing the distance between them, and pressing his lips to Lizzie's.

He cradled her face in his hands and nibbled on her bottom lip, prompting her to kiss him back. When he was just about to pull away, she did.

_____

“So!” Joe said as he opened the passenger’s side door for Shelly, “let’s go get you settled in!”

“Joe.”

“Yeah?”

“As much as I’m enjoying your frantic ramblings,” Shelly smirked, “will it be totally out of line for you to kiss me already?”

“What?” Joe’s brows knotted as he let her words sink. “Oh!”

“Oh!” Shelly mimicked, her nose just bumping with the tip of his nose. “So…?”

Joe grinned and chuckled as he closed the miniature gap they still had left.

______

“Give me some of that!” Gwilym slurred slightly as he reached for the bottle in Lizzie’s hand.

“No, this one’s mine!” She protested and leaned back, stretching her arm up and away, over her head. “Get your own!”

“Oh, come on!” Gwilym pouted and batted his eyelashes at her. “Please?”

“Nuh-uh!” Lizzie sing-sang and laughed when Gwilym laid flush on top of her, reaching for the bottle.

“You’ll spill it.” His voice was raspy and low, his lips grazing hers. “Reckless girl…”

Lizzie poked her tongue out and licked at his lips sloppily, making him grunt and rut his hips onto hers. His trousers rustled against her leggings as she opened her legs slightly wider, accommodating him.

______

“We need to make it out of the car, Joe,” Shelly giggled as he nibbled on the crook of her neck, leaning over the console. “Joseph!”

“I’m just -” he started and nibbled her again, “you’re just so yummy I’m -”

“Oh, I’m yummy?” Shelly smirked.

“God, yes.” Joe sighed and leaned back into his seat. “But okay. Okay, we’ll continue this soon enough.”

_______

“I feel like a bloody teenager again,” Gwilym laughed and kissed Lizzie’s neck, thrusting his hips into hers. “Dry-humping like some horny puppy…” Lizzie’s melodic laughter filled his ears. “You think this is funny?”

“Mhm!” Lizzie shifted slightly and bucked into him, making him wince. “Very.”

“I’m in actual physical pain, here!” Gwilym protested and sneaked his hand under her top, “and you find it funny?”

“Hilarious, actually.”

“Bad woman,” Gwilym nipped at her earlobe.

His warm hand left a searing trail behind it wherever it went. He cupped her breast in his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze as he pushed her top up her torso with the other.

“No.” Lizzie murmured and wriggled under him. “No!” she said a bit louder.

“What?” Gwilym froze and leaned back, searching her face.

“I don’t…” Lizzie slurred and mentally kicked herself for getting so drunk and turned on after being so angry with him. “I wanna stop.”

“I’m confused,” Gwil said as he sat up.

“I know, me too,” Lizzie kept eye contact and shrugged. “Feels wrong to do this, so I wanna stop.”

“Oh,” Gwilym pouted. “I’m…”

“And I’m still fuming at you for ghosting me,” Lizzie remarked. “That was a dick move.”

“It was. I’m sorry,” Gwilym frowned. “I’m also in pain.”

“Good!” Lizzie smiled triumphantly. “Now you know what happens when you hurt me!”

“Where’s Shelly, by the way?” Gwil wondered.

“At Joe’s.”

“What?”

________

“You said you made plans?” Shelly asked Joe as she pulled his shirt up over his head and straddled him on the sofa.

“Fuck plans.” Joe gulped when she pulled her own shirt up over her head and revealed that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Holy moly.”

“Mmmm…” Shelly gently grazed her fingernails over his skin, watching his muscles spasm in her wake. “Are you ready?”

“Ride ‘em, cowgirl,” Joe murmured in a southern accent and grabbed Shelly’s hips.

“Yeehaw!” she whispered in his ear.

______

TAGLIST: @filmslutt @lose-you-to-find-me @sonic-volcano @nosferatyou @rogertaylorin1976 @mrhoemazzello

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee fanfiction #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee x ofc #gwilym lee blurb

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dearlazerbunny · 5 years

Text

Lie to Me (Ch. 8 of ?)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 1500

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug for doing the lord’s work

Requested Tags: @deraniel @iamverity @yasnooshka24 @wegingerangelica @themusingsofmany @dark-night-sky-99 @tarynkauai @stuffandstuff-stuff and the total sweetie @angelicshinigami

“You’ve been speaking with Thor.”

You don’t glance up from the rough sketch of Mjolnir you’re outlining in your notebook. The runes are a bit tricky to replicate precisely. “Um, yeah. How’d you know?”

He gestures to your drawing. “He let you ‘test your worthiness,’ yes?”

You giggle. “Yeah. Nothing happened, obviously.”

The noise of disapproval that he hums catches you off guard. “I’m disappointed, Witling. I would have thought you were more intelligent than to fall for his ploys. I suppose I was wrong.”

That makes you set your pencil down. The Trickster sounds even grumpier than usual. “His ‘ploys’? What, is he gonna lift my fingerprints off the handle to frame me for a crime I didn’t commit?”

The god, while still angry, now looks thoroughly mystified. “What on Asgard is the nonsense tumbling out of your mouth?”

“I- nothing, never mind. Why do you care if I talk to Thor? He’s sweet, and it’s nice to talk to someone and not feel like they’ll bite off my head for breathing in the wrong direction.”

You give him a pointed look, but it flies right over his head. “No, by all means, let the oaf wrap you around his little finger. Because of course, the true Prince of Asgard, mighty god of thunder, would be a much better companion than the snide, corrupt Loki.” There’s so much bitterness in his voice you could drown in it- and something makes you feel he already has.

“Whoa, hey, that’s- a lot of antagonism there. Are you okay?”

He lets his head rest back against the wall behind him in obviously reluctant defeat. “Even on Midgard, that brute is still the chosen one. I should have known the universe would not know impartiality, no matter the realm.”

“Mmm, yeah, life tends to play favorites a lot, and that favorite is rarely you.” You glance up. “I mean, not you, you in particular. Us, I guess?”

“Us. Do not lie to me, mortal; you know nothing of my life.”

“Well, no, I don’t know what it’s like growing up as a magical demigod prince, you’ve got me there. But I do have an older brother. I know how it feels to grow up in the shade of his shadow.” You glance down at your paper, tapping the butt of your pencil thoughtfully on the table. Oh. “That explains a lot, actually,” you murmur.

“Oh, please, by all means, psychoanalyze me into submission. I look forward to hearing your drivel; it is excellent to amuse myself with when sleep is elusive.”

Glaring at him, you throw your pencil across the room in a vague approximation of his location. It bounces off the glass barrier and clatters to the floor, but for once, the Trickster looks shocked and speechless. “Christ, aren’t you supposed to be a prince? How about acting like it for once?”

“You would lecture me about being royalty? You said yourself you have no basis for aristocracy!”

“I don’t, but I sure as hell know they act a lot better than you!” Now you’re both staring at the other, unwilling to be the one to look away first. “Look, I get it. You’re angry, and tired, and sad, but that doesn’t give you the right to lash out whenever you want. Stop bleeding on the people who didn’t hurt you.”

“And who might that be?” Once his tone might have frightened you. Yesterday it would have made you annoyed. Today it just makes you… pensive. Because now you have some puzzle pieces that are starting to fit together, and the picture it shows isn’t all that pretty.

“Me. Everyone else at SHIELD. The entire human race you just tried to enslave,” you add. “Thor.”

With a growl, the Trickster’s gaze traps you in your seat with an intensity you haven’t seen before. “Thor Odinson-” he practically spits his name like a curse- “has always been the favorite. The chosen one. Father’s heir, the people’s love, the golden child. Next to him I might as well be as inconsequential as the sand beneath his feet,” he hisses.

“Because Odin made you feel that way, not Thor! Your father is the one who played favorites, Trickster. He’s the one who made Thor his golden child, and gave him a magical hammer, and groomed him to be the heir. Your father may see you as lesser, but by all accounts Thor values you as his equal.” You pause, thinking back to your conversation. “He said he admires you.”

“Lies.”

“You’re the god of lies; I’d hope you’d be able to distinguish when I’m lying to you.” When he doesn’t respond, you get up, walk over to him, and tap on the cell wall. “Hey. You’re literally in a fishbowl, you can’t just avoid me. Am I lying to you?”

His green eyes search your face, thinking, even though he already knows the answer. “No.”

“No. I’m not. He specifically told me that he doesn’t understand your bookish habits-” you smile a little at that- “but he’s proud of your intelligence all the same.”

“Of course. How could he? That blundering idiot can barely string together two coherent sentences.” You can tell he’s aiming for derision in his voice, but his words aren’t nearly as harsh as they were a minute ago.

“Look, from what I’ve read, Asgard is a warrior’s culture, yes? They value strength, and brawn, and muscles, and how hard you can swing a sword. You’re… not that. Sure, I have no doubt you’re a great fighter, but it’s because you think your way through a battle, not go in there guns blazing and overpower your enemy.” You stop and glance at him, wondering if you’ve gone too far, but he’s actually looking at you with some interest. “It’s like asking a fish to climb a tree. You’re completely out of your element; the scales were tipped against you from the start.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t speak, and you think he’s going to throw your words right back in your face. But to your surprise, the god starts laughing. No, it’s not as hearty as Thor’s, and there’s an underlying bitter sweetness to the sound, but it’s a true, honest laugh. Probably the first one you’ve heard from him. “You say the strangest things, Witling.”

Smiling, you scrunch your nose up at him. “Yeah, yeah, I’m an oddball, I get it. But I’m also right.”

His eyes are slightly out of focus, as though he’s seeing his life through a new lens. “Perhaps.”

“When you start with the short straw time and time again; when you’re punished for doing things differently even though different is in your DNA… you’re going to get frustrated. And you’re going to get resentful. And eventually, there’s going to be an explosion.” Your expression is resigned as you look at him. “It’s not fair. And I’m sorry that’s what you had to deal with for a thousand years.”

His eyes are more thoughtful than you’ve ever seen them. “I cannot remember a time when someone apologized to me sincerely.”

“Thor probably tried, but he didn’t know how. Words are your thing, not his.”

“Indeed.” He nods to himself, seemingly settling an argument only he can hear. “May I ask you a question, Witling?”

“What? I mean-” you shake off your surprise- “Sure, Loki. Of course you can.”

Something in his expression brightens just a hint, though you’re not sure why. “Do you not prefer Thor to me?”

“Is that what you’re worried about, Trickster? Losing your annoying sidekick?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “You are not my sidekick. At best you are an unfortunate reoccurring side-bit.”

You snort. “Look, I like Thor a lot. He’s friendly, though he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and very… loud,” you say. “Kinda like a golden retriever. Lots of energy, bounding all over the place, leaping before they look. But I like that I can have a good conversation with you. You think, and you’ve got a sharp tongue, and you’re a bit of an enigma. If Thor is a golden retriever, you’re a witch’s familiar.” You give him a shrug and a smile. “And I’ve always been a cat person, anyways.”

“Color me relieved.”

“You’re the one who asked! Can’t have my favorite god getting jealous now can we?”

“Jealousy over someone implies they are something you covet. You are an annoyance. Thor can gladly take you.”

“In that case, I guess I’ll just go find him.” You gather your stuff, taking your sweet time putting it all away in your bag and watching Loki struggle to find a way to keep you from going. Because he doesn’t want you to go. Not really.

“Witling.”

You look over your shoulder. “Yeeeeeeeees?”

His gaze is very conveniently anywhere but on you. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

There’s a little smile on your face as you respond. “Yeah, Loki. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

A/N: I’d say from here on out things take a turn from fluff to more purposeful conversations :)

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a-simple-imagine · 5 years

Text

Car Troubles

Requested by anonymous: “any chance you’d write an agent m x female reader? maybe where reader is another agent on the mission with m&h and she hears when agent m says she’s never been in love with anyone and she’s like i will change that “

Pairing: Agent M x fem!reader

Words: 1.5k+

A/N - This is slightly different than the request; simpler.

Trigger Warning - swearing??

Being recruited for MIB hadn't been your first choice but it was definitely a job you had come to love. Getting to interact with all kinds of people, other species of lifeforms, saving the world, it was all amazing. It was interesting more so than any other job you tried doing. You would often grow bored doing the same thing every day so desk jobs just weren't suited to you. But being an agent brought new possibilities each day. From Hitech gadgets to travelling the world, it was hard to grow bored when you're constantly doing so much. Over years of hard work, you had climbed the ladder of the London branch to become one of the best agents they ever had. Agent H was always the favourite but now that he was in charge, it was your time to shine. Although after everything you were pretty sure M would always be H's favourite even if she was miles away. She was certainly your favourite. You may or may not have a tiny little crush on her. Nothing like an epic adventure where you almost died to bring up feelings. It took a lot of pestering to convince H to get M relocated to the London branch. He had such a soft spot for you and your puppy dog eyes. Now you and M spent practically every day together thanks to H constantly pairing the two of you together. You were almost certain he knew you liked her and he was just trying to help. But every time you're around her and she does something idiotic but admittedly adorable you can't help but think back to the night spent in the desert. Her views on love were harsh. She'd never even given it a chance and it seemed like she didn't want to. You didn't realise your feelings until she was being hauled off back to America and by then it felt silly bringing them up.

Things have been... weird lately. Something was up with agent M and you couldn't figure out what because she had been avoiding you. Sat in Agent H's office you watch the other woman as the boss drones on about today's assignment. At least that's what you assumed this meeting was about.

"Could you at least pretend to pay attention to me?" Fingers click before your eyes bring you back to reality. You flash a smile at H who wears a pleasant smirk.

"I am listening."

"Then what did I just say?" He asks.

"Something about aliens." You reply slowly knowing that nine times out of ten guessing aliens was correct.

"I want you two to go check out the crash. Shouldn't be anything too difficult."

You raise your hand into the air causing H to frown. "Why are you putting your hand up?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are you doing? Why is your hand up?"

"Uh... I have a question." You respond, confusion evident in your tone.

"Then just speak up, this isn't primary school." He insists with a distasteful shake of his head.

"Seems she's finally learned some manners" M mutters and you shoot her a look.

"Can I have a different partner."

"What's wrong with M?" H wonders.

"She's a dick, sir." You respond, a hint of playfulness to your tone.

"You two play nice." He points you out of his office. You exit followed by Molly, who so casually brushes past you. Bumping her shoulder into yours as she went.

"I'm not an asshole."

"That's what they all say." You tease. "Can we grab food first I'm-"

"No," she insists. "Let's go."

"See, you're being a dick." You mumble quietly following behind her.

The atmosphere in the care is thick with awkwardness and unsaid words. You can't quite figure out what's changed about her. You play with the radio looking for any song you knew and when it ended you'd change the channel to repeat the process.

"Can you please stop." Agent M asked but it came out more like a demand. You ignore her and continue to flick through the stations. "If you don't stop, I will kick you out of this car."

"Okay, okay. Calm down." You pull your hand back, staring out the window. You can't bare going back to it being silent in hear. "Do you hate me?"

"Hate you?" She very briefly glances at you and then back at the road. "What makes you think I hate you?"

"I don't know. You've been acting really weird and avoiding me-"

"I'm not avoiding you."

You're not convinced. "The other day, I walked into the break room while you were making coffee and you ran straight out without your coffee."

"So? There's a perfectly reasonable explanation for that."

"Like what?" You ask brow cocked curiously.

"Agent H needed me."

You watch her, the car coming to a stop at a red light.

"You're a bad liar." You answer, raising your shoulders in a casual shrug. "What did I do to upset you?"

"Nothing-"

"But you admit you're upset?" You counter.

"No. I'm not upset with you."

"Yes, you are,"

Her head shakes. "I just- it's awkward."

"Why is it awkward?"

"Agent H kinda told me you liked me."

"He what!?" You growl. "That traitor."

"So it's true?"

"That he's a traitor? Yeah, I tell him things in confidence and he just blurts it out like it's everyone's business."

"I meant about you liking me." She turns back to the road as the light turns green.

"Oh." You shrug. heat flushes your cheeks as you sink down in the seat. To say you're embarrassed would be an understatement. Finding out that's why she'd been avoiding kind of hurt though. "I guess. But you don't believe in that shit so does it matter?"

"I've never had anyone like me before."

"Honestly for the longest time I thought H had a crush on you but he's just like that. He'd flirt with anything."

"Great?" She seemed confused.

"Even In relationships he still comes across as flirty. And most girls like him because he's handsome which makes sense, even guys too. I admit he's charming but perhaps too much, I'm not sure I could date him. I'll admit he's attractive though-"

"Do you ever stop rambling? Like do you come with an on/off switch or something."

"Sure. Push the right button and you can turn me on," you joke, giggling to yourself. "You get it?"

"I'm so close to kicking you out of this car- so close."

"I'm sorry, I just don't know what to say and I tend to make jokes when things get weird." You admit, watching the world outside pass by. "I like you but I don't see how that's awkward? It's not like I'm looking for anything from you. Just because I have feelings doesn't mean you have to."

"It's weird having someone want to be with me in... that way."

"That way? Can you at least try to sound less repulsed?" You tease. "Why wouldn't someone. Not only are you a beautiful badass who works for one of the most secret agencies in the world. You're also smart and driven; Funny and a huge dork."

"I feel like that last part wasn't a compliment."

"Being a dork is not a bad thing, M." You assure her.

"Well then, you're a dork too."

You glance back to her. "What? No, I'm not, I'm way too cool."

"So it's an insult." She corrects and you can't fight the small smile that makes its way onto your lips. "Do you insult all the girls you like or am I special?"

"You're the only girl I like so that makes you special. Unless you count Margot Robbie but she's famous and married so I have no shot there."

"No shot here either." Ouch. Never have you wanted to sink into a deep dark hole more than you do right now.

"I know that's why I never brought it up. You're a pussy who doesn't believe in love."

"It's not that I don't believe it's just... pointless. A waste of time." She muses, turning the steering wheel between her palms as you turn down the corner. How far away was this crash because you've been in this car for what feels like a lifetime.

"Glad to know I'm a waste of time."

"I never said that."

"You implied it though," you argue. "But that's okay."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No." She corrects.

"Yes." You nod.

"No."

"Prove it, how about... we grab a drink after this?"

"Seriously?"

"See so you do think imma-"

"Fine let's get a drink." She huffs. "If you really liked me you wouldn't guilt me into a date."

"It's not a date unless we make it a date and you clearly think it's a date so it must be... it's a date." The car roars to a stop, the fabric of the seatbelt digging into your neck as you lunge forward. "now we have a job to do, Agent M so stop flirting with me."

"That's not what's happening." She argues, undoing her belt and slipping out the car. "Like at all, really."

You follow her lead, slamming the car door behind you. "Whatever you say, M. Whatever you say."

#Agent M #men in black #men in black international #mib international #Tessa Thompson #mib

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conandonandon · 5 years

Text

Flowery Exchanges (Connor x Reader)

This story has been removed as I intend to make it into an original short comic with different characters. If you liked the original story and happen to find the comic please don't mention it was a fanfic because I am very private with my fanfic and don't want it tied to my public presence, sorry.

#Dbh #d:bh #Connor x reader #connorxreader #rk800 x reader #dbh Connor #Connor rk800 #rk800 #Detroit: Become Human #Detroit Become human #x reader #my fic

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phantasticworks · 5 years

Text

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

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

read on ao3

Words: 22k

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

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

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

Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dan hides a laugh, but nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not a letter,” Phil protests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what he said,” Phil giggles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dan frowns, glancing over at Phil in worry. Phil only looks down, closing the notepad before awkwardly getting to his feet. “Um, I should- I’ll be back in a minute.” He mumbles, leaving the notepad on his seat and stepping out of the conference room. PJ barely spares him a glance, having seen Charlie waiting outside no doubt, but Dan can’t help but allow his gaze to follow Phil out of the room.

He watches with rapt interest as Charlie clenches his jaw as he begins speaking, too quickly for Dan to read his lips properly. Phil is staring down at his feet, but Charlie brings his hand up, snapping his fingers right in front of Phil’s face to bring his gaze up to meet his own. Dan feels his blood boil at this action, and he has to literally grab ahold of the arm rests to keep himself in his seat, rather than doing something stupid like walking out there to intervene.

Not yours! Not yours, let it go! His mind reminds him helpfully, but Dan tells that voice to shut the hell up. Instead, he watches quietly as Charlie gestures to the window where he’s sat, poking Phil’s chest with his index finger several times right after. Phil seems to speak up then, bringing his arms up as if to hug himself tightly. He shakes his head sharply at something Charlie is saying, his eyes clenching shut. Whatever Charlie is saying must really piss him off, because he turns suddenly, as if to walk back into the conference room.

Dan doesn’t even have a moment to feel relieved that Phil’s getting out of that situation before he’s watching in mute horror as Charlie brings his hand up to grip Phil’s bicep, yanking on his arm harshly to pull him back to face him. That settles it for Dan, and he’s up and out of his seat immediately, holding a hand up to PJ when he questions him.

Having the sense to shut the conference door behind himself, Dan comes to stand beside Phil, tucking his hands in his pockets casually, as to not appear threatening to Charlie. He wasn’t afraid of the twat by any means, but he also wasn’t stupid; Charlie could probably kick his ass in no time, considering he definitely spent more time at the gym than Dan currently did. “Everything alright out here?” He asks pleasantly, trying not to frown at the way Phil cringes when he hears his voice.

“We’re fine, Howell. This is really none of your business, though, so, if you could just go, that’d be great.” Charlie drawls easily, his hand still gripping Phil’s arm tightly. Dan watches as Phil tries to take the distraction as an opportunity to pull his arm out of his grasp, but this only seems to spur Charlie on.

“Maybe you ought to let go of his arm, mate,” Dan suggests instead of leaving, ignoring that notion completely.

Charlie’s eyes narrow, and Phil takes in a deep breath, only to hold it. “Listen, mate,” Charlie starts. “I’m not sure who you think you are, but-“

“Char, please,” Phil whispers, staring pointedly at his fiancé’s face.

The other man drops Phil’s arm only to hold that hand up to his face to silence him. Dan clenches his fists in his pockets at the action, but otherwise remains motionless. “No, no, I want to know what business Howell thinks he’s got coming out here-“

Dan rolls his eyes as he cuts him off, lifting a hand of his own up to silence him. He smirks at the shocked look that crosses Charlie’s face. “I’m his best friend, Char,” he says mockingly. “And no offense, but you’re acting like a dick.”

Phil suddenly turns to face him, his eyes wide. “Dan, stop.” He says sternly. Dan’s taken aback by this, and his eyes flick between Phil’s and Charlie’s for a moment, trying to grasp what it is that he’s supposed to do. “Just… just go. I can handle this myself, just go.” He waves him off, not quite meeting Dan’s gaze.

“No, Phil, he’s-“ Dan protests, gesturing at the twat that Phil’s currently engaged to.

“Go. This isn’t any of your business,” Phil says harshly. Dan takes a hesitant step back, furrowing his eyebrows together in confusion. Phil’s eyes are full of guilt, but he just shakes his head slightly, gesturing to the conference room. Charlie is smirking smugly behind Phil, which Dan ignores.

Dan hesitates, but at Phil’s weak smile and nod, he steps back into the conference room, meeting a few concerned gazes as he goes back to his seat. He can’t help but glance back out the window at Phil, and his heart clenches when he finds that he’s staring down at the floor, his hand holding the portion of his arm that Charlie had been gripping so tightly earlier. And even after being so blatantly dismissed from that altercation, Dan can’t help but feel as if Phil needed him.

---

When Phil finally returns to the conference room a few minutes later, Dan is looking at him with concern, watching him closely. Phil doesn’t meet his eyes, and only flips his notepad open to an empty page. Dan waits patiently for him to speak, but when he doesn’t, Dan nudges him gently on the arm.

“Hey, are you okay?” Dan asks softly, frowning when Phil slowly shifts away from him.

Phil only nods, not meeting his gaze. “Mhm.” He murmurs, carefully writing notes as PJ speaks.

“Oh… okay.” Dan says in confusion.

The older man doesn’t respond, and Dan can only sit by and wonder how badly he’d truly fucked up.

---

It’s almost a week later when things finally go back to normal. The weekend had apparently given Phil the space he needed to get back to his normal self, but Dan wasn’t sure if he really had the same relationship with him as he had before. This caused a few awkward interactions on Monday, but when Dan had gotten up to retrieve some candy from reception and Phil had reminded him that Chris’ birthday was coming up (which they always used as an opportunity for a new prank), they slipped back into their usual banter.

Now, Friday afternoon had rolled around, and everyone was getting excited for the company outing they had planned that night. Every year their boss liked to put together a ridiculous award show for their branch, and this year it was being hosted at a restaurant called The Factory House. Generally, it was a huge waste of time for everyone, but PJ was always super excited for it, and generally everyone was put on the same tab, which was covered by the company, so at least it was a free meal.

“So, Philip Michael Lester,” Dan drawls at the receptionist desk a couple hours before quitting time.

“James Howard,” Phil stutters out, his blush likely due to Dan’s memory and usage of his full name.

Dan puts on an overexaggerated frown, sniffing dramatically. “You don’t even know my name!” he whines, his voice obnoxiously high-pitched.

Phil smirks, typing on his keyboard in feigned nonchalance. “Daniel,” Phil sighs, shaking his head. “Of course, I know your full name. It’s Daniel James “I like to annoy the receptionist” Howell.” His tongue pokes out between his teeth at this, and Dan only laughs.

“Ouch! Phil, I’m wounded.” He brings a hand up to his heart, grinning down at the older man.

Rolling his eyes, Phil stands, grabbing a post-it note that probably held a message for PJ. “Do you even have anything in there to wound?” He questions, nodding at Dan’s hand placement.

His jaw dropping slightly at Phil’s meaner-than-usual insult, Dan lets out a sharp laugh. “Damn, Lester. Who hurt you?” He asks jokingly.

He barely notices it as Phil turns away, but there’s a clear shift in his expression, from joking to slightly alarmed. Dan’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, as he had clearly meant that as a joke. “I’ve got to take this to PJ. Be right back,” Phil mutters, walking around the receptionist counter without meeting Dan’s gaze.

“Oh… Okay.” He frowns as his gaze follows Phil, but just as he steps into Peej’s office, the main door opens, and Dan cringes when Charlie steps through.

Charlie brushes a blonde strand of hair up off his forehead, nodding to Dan with a look of feigned indifference. “Hey, mate,” he uttered, looking reluctant to even acknowledge Dan’s presence.

“Er, hey,” he responds, nodding uncertainly.

Sighing, Charlie steps closer, leaning on the counter about two feet away from Dan. “Look, Dan,” he begins. Dan braces himself to be chewed out for the other day, sure that’s exactly what’s about to happen. He and Phil hadn’t acknowledged any of it, which made Dan equal parts confused and worried, but that doesn’t mean that Charlie hadn’t addressed Dan’s intrusion with Phil. “I just wanted to say thanks. You know, for the other day.”

Dan stares dumbly, even more confused. “Um… you’re welcome? Wait- for what?” He asks uncertainly.

Charlie shrugs, looking awkward to even be saying this. “Well it wasn’t any of your business, obviously-“ Dan clenches his fist at this, but just nods, setting his jaw so he doesn’t say anything stupid. “-but it’s nice to know that Philly has someone here to look out for him. You know, help him get through the day and stuff. I appreciate that.” Charlie smiles pleasantly, as if it’s perfectly normal of him to thank Dan for interrupting their argument, even though at the time Dan had every intention of telling the blonde to fuck off.

“Oh… um… sure, mate.” Dan says awkwardly, really uncertain about what he should even say at this point. He certainly didn’t do it for Charlie, so he didn’t really deserve his thanks in the first place. Especially given the fact Dan couldn’t stand him.

“Charlie?” Phil’s voice says uncertainly from behind them. Both men turn to look at him, and Dan can’t ignore the way Phil seems to retreat into himself in Charlie’s presence. He looks small and uncertain, and Dan loathes the man who made Phil feel like this.

“Hey, babe,” Charlie says with a smirk, stepping closer to Phil and placing a broad hand on his hip. Dan looks away just as Charlie leans down, probably with the intentions of kissing his fiancé.

“Not here,” Phil hisses. Dan’s eyes dart back to them, only to find Phil turn his head at the last second, his eyes meeting Dan’s. He doesn’t hold his gaze, his cheeks flooding and his eyes dropping back to the floor.

“Oh, come on. Dan doesn’t mind. Do you, Dan?” Charlie inquires, and Dan might be imagining it, but he’s pretty sure there’s a challenge in his voice.

Dan shrugs, and as much as he tries to keep his mouth shut, his smart-assery makes itself present. “I’m not into non-consensual voyeurism, so you can keep that to yourself, actually,” he says smoothly before smiling slightly at Phil, tapping the counter once before slipping away to return to his desk.

“Smartass.” Charlie mutters, just loud enough for Dan to catch.

Unable to keep his mouth shut, Dan smirks. “Thanks, mate. I’ve got a degree and everything.”

Dan catches the look of surprise on Charlie’s face, which quickly turns to anger as Phil giggles. “Hilarious,” Charlie remarks dryly. Dan shrugs, sitting in his chair, acting the part of someone who is totally unbothered. However, he does notice the way Charlie smirks before gripping Phil’s waist tightly, shoving his mouth against the ebony-haired man’s roughly. Clenching his jaw hard enough to pop it, Dan reminds himself that there’s absolutely no reason for him to feel burnt up with jealousy and hatred right now, and yet here he is.

“Enough, Char. I’ve got work to do. I’ll see you later, okay?” Phil is saying, pushing Charlie away. Dan glances over as he crosses his arms over his stomach, stepping away from the blonde as if he doesn’t want to touch him. Dan figures Phil must have a thing about PDA, but it pisses him off that Charlie doesn’t seem to realize or respect that.

“Okay, fine. What time is the stupid award thing?”

Phil sighs before answering. “It starts at seven.”

Dan tries to busy himself with a file on his desk, trying not to eavesdrop so obviously. “Okay. See you later, babe. Bye, Howell.” Charlie calls slightly louder to Dan.

Refusing to acknowledge the douchebag, Dan only stares at his desk until he hears the door to the office close. His eyes dart up to look at Phil, who is staring down at the floor with a look of embarrassment on his face. Dan’s heart clenches tightly, and he sits back in his chair slightly. “Haribo, Phil?” He says softly, grabbing the container of gummy snacks that he kept in his desk. He liked them, but Phil loved them, so Dan always kept some around.

Phil turns to face him, a grateful smile gracing his features as he nods, coming over to lean against Dan’s desk. “I think I’d really love some haribo.”

---

Every year it seemed like a miracle that they weren’t kicked out of the restaurant PJ insisted on hosting their award show at. There was always his terrible attempt at hosting, which involved bad and often offensive impressions, as well as office-themed parodies of various iconic songs. Along with this was Chris’ terrible attempt at DJing, which Dan always found hilariously awful. There was also a couple of people who ended up getting too rowdy (generally because PJ says something offensive that, shockingly, offends someone) and occasionally someone would get really drunk. That someone was usually Hazel, but everyone was pretty sure that she was an alcoholic anyway.

This year, it seemed, would be no different than usual, as PJ had started them off with a terrible rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody (which Dan found personally offensive) which he followed by an impression of Tommy Wiseau (which was surprisingly accurate, just very disturbingly so.) Dan had high hopes that this would be the worst of the evening and that maybe it would improve from there, but he’d already been subjected to several years of these stupid ceremonies, so he knew that was only wishful thinking.

It would be slightly more tolerable if he could sit with Phil, but as he had been every year now, Phil was sat with Charlie and Jimmy. Jimmy was an alright guy, the foreman of their warehouse, and if he wasn’t friends with Charlie, Dan figured he’d probably like him a lot more. Phil sat close to Charlie, but he looked uncomfortably rigid. The blonde had an arm thrown around the back of Phil’s chair, and his hand was resting on Phil’s shoulder in a possessive fashion. Dan tried not to stare at that hand, but he was secretly hoping that maybe he had some hidden pyrokinetic powers that would do something fun, like set Charlie’s hand on fire. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

“So welcome, everyone. This year is going to be a little different,” PJ was announcing into the microphone loudly, and Dan tried his hardest to tune in, filtering out the conversations of Louise and Tom, who he was currently sat with. “We won’t be doing one tab this year, so if you could, just put everything on your own tabs,” PJ continues, his words garnering a predictable response, which was anger on behalf of many of his coworkers, who usually only showed up for the free meal.

“You said we could invite our families this year!” Felix says pointedly from a table behind Dan, and Dan can’t help but agree with his anger. Felix had brought his wife, and he was probably excited to have an excuse to take her somewhere nice without having to pay for it himself.

“Yeah, well, it’s not my fault you actually listened to me for once, Felix.” PJ barely even bats an eye, continuing on as if he hadn’t just disappointed pretty much every one of his colleagues. Dan didn’t particularly care himself, since he was going to have to eat dinner whether he stayed or went home, and he’d rather not cook tonight.

Apparently, some people didn’t share this philosophy, as he notices Charlie and Jimmy standing to leave. “Come on, Phil,” Charlie is saying, tugging at Phil’s arm.

“No, Char, why can’t we-“ Phil is protesting, gingerly trying to pull his arm from Charlie’s grip.

“I won’t say it again, Philip,” Charlie’s voice is low and dead serious, and Dan can only watch helplessly as he manages to drag Phil off his seat, tugging him to the door. Phil glances over his shoulder, his gaze meeting Dan’s, a frown clear on his face.

PJ notices their departure and calls them out, but Charlie just shakes his head with a roll of his eyes. Dan stares at the door where they’d disappeared, but there’s nothing he can do. He sighs to himself, tuning back into the conversation Louise and Tom are in.

“I’d love to stay, honest, but I left Liam at home with the girls because I thought I’d get a nice dinner for free,” the blonde blushes at this, but Dan knows she doesn’t mean this in a bad way. She was a busy woman with two small kids, of course she’d jump at the chance to go out for the night with a paid dinner. “Tom, would you mind driving me? I’d hate to ask Liam to come pick me up since he’s probably making dinner for the girls.”

Tom shrugs but stands and pulls his jacket on. “Sure, Lou. I’m in it for the free food myself, so not much keeping me here.” He jokes. They seem to notice Dan just sat there, and Tom claps him on the back. “You staying here, mate?” Tom asks.

Dan nods. “Yeah, might as well. Someone’s got to stay and report back on all the worst moments on Monday.” His lips quirk into a small smile.

Louise frowns, bringing a hand to touch Dan’s arm. “Are you sure, love? If you’d like you can join us for dinner.” She turns to Tom then. “You’re invited too, dear, since you’re being kind enough to play chauffer.” She says sweetly, always living to host.

Tom grins at this. “Oh, definitely, Lou. I accept.” He too turns to Dan, shrugging. “Suit yourself, mate, but you know where to find us if you change your mind.”

With another small smile, Dan nods. “It’s fine, really. I’ll see the both of you Monday.” He waves them off.

Sending an apology to PJ, Louise and Tom quickly make their exit, and Dan sighs to himself, flipping the menu around to scan it for something that isn’t too expensive. He’d already ordered a beer, which sat by his left hand, mostly untouched. He’s trying to tune out PJ’s parody of Toxic by Britney Spears when the chair across from him squeaks, someone joining him.

His jaw drops in unfiltered surprised as he sees Phil sitting across from him, his cheeks rosy in what looks like embarrassment. “Mind if I join you?” He asks timidly.

Dan smiles broadly then, shaking his head. “Course not. How’d you manage to get away from Sir Charlie?” He teases, pushing his beer across to Phil when he sees him eyeing it.

“Thanks,” Phil sighs, taking several large gulps of the alcohol. Dan had never really seen Phil have more than a couple drinks over the years, mainly at various work functions and a couple house parties of mutual friends. He watches quietly as Phil downs nearly the whole glass before lowering it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His cheeks flood with color when he meets Dan’s amused stare. “Sorry,” he apologizes, before seemingly remembering that Dan had asked him a question. “I told him I wanted to stay. I’ll get a ride from Louise or someone later.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal.

Dan almost laughs, but he just clears his throat. “Well, Tom actually drove Louise home, since I think Liam drove her here.” Phil’s face falls at this information, so Dan continues timidly. “But I can give you a ride home later,” he offers, looking down at the menu casually.

Phil brightens at this, nodding immediately. “Thanks, I’d appreciate that, actually.” He nods happily, and Dan smiles to himself. Phil downs the rest of the beer quickly, and Dan quirks an eyebrow. Phil shrugs. “After the week I’ve had, I think I deserve this.”

Dan smirks before waving over the waitress. “Can we get two of the blue margaritas?” He requests, smiling when Phil’s face lights up in excitement. The waitress nods before disappearing, and Dan tilts his head at Phil. “Is that okay with you?” He asks, suddenly unsure. Phil just seemed more like the type to enjoy sweet alcoholic drinks, and he really did seem like he needed a drink.

Nodding frantically, Phil opens his own menu. “Yes, absolutely.” Almost as an afterthought, he adds, “Charlie never lets me drink.”

Trying to hide his frown, Dan hums. “Really? Why’s that?” He asks mildly, trying his hardest not to sound too pressing or nosy.

Phil shrugs as if the question doesn’t bother him in the slightest. “He says he doesn’t like me when I’m drunk.” He gets a thoughtful look on his face and looks up at Dan suddenly. “I don’t like him much when I’m drunk, either,” he admits, sounding almost as if he’s just realized this.

Before Dan gets a chance to unpack that, PJ is announcing an award, and their coworkers are clapping with feigned interest. Dan joins in clapping half-heartedly, still looking over at Phil with a frown etched on his face. He wonders idly what their relationship is like behind closed doors, and he tries his hardest not to notice the way Phil’s eyes just look so, so tired.

When the margaritas arrive, Dan only takes a sip out of his before he splutters, hearing the groan- no the moan, loud and way too sexual to be garnered from a simple drink- that slips out of Phil’s mouth. Dan raises his eyebrows, ignoring the heat swelling in his stomach at the scene in front of him. Phil’s lips are wrapped tightly around the small straw in his glass, and he has this blissed-out look on his face as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tried. Dan’s mouth goes dry just looking at him, and he feels as if his face is burning with how red it is now.

Phil opens his eyes and slowly meets Dan’s gaze, and Dan isn’t prepared at all for the lazy smirk that crosses his face. “What?” he asks, sipping his drink as if he truly has no idea what kind of effect he’s having on the younger man.

Dan swallows hard, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he stutters out.

Gesturing to the glass that Dan is just idly stirring, Phil asks, “Are you going to drink that?”

Dan chokes out a laugh, grinning as he slides the margarita over to Phil. “I think you can have it,” he laughs, watching as Phil grins, finishing off his own before promptly dumping his straw into Dan’s glass.

“Thanks,” Phil beams. Shaking his head, Dan tunes in to their boss, who is announcing an award for Best Procrastinator. With a groan, Dan fully expects it when his own name is called. As he stands, Phil starts cheering loudly, his voice already slurring together with the alcohol coursing through his veins. “Woo! That’s my best friend! Go best friend!” He shouts loudly, earning a few curious and amused glances from the others in the office.

Dan takes the award with an embarrassed smile, nodding his thanks at PJ before stepping back over to his table. Phil smiles broadly at him, doing the tongue thing again as Dan sits. “I guess this is better than what I got last year,” he shrugs, mostly to himself. He looks up at Phil, who’s got this soft sort of smile on his face. “Remember last year when I got the Straight Up Lad award because of that one time I talked to PJ about England’s football team?”

Giggling, Phil nods. “That was hilarious.” He gushes out, his eyes slightly unfocused.

Nodding along, Dan shrugs, unthinking about his own words. “It was ridiculous. There’s nothing straight about me.” At this, he blushes profusely, glancing up at Phil. Of course, Phil wouldn’t judge him for being gay, Phil was gay himself, after all. But this was the first time Dan had said it so explicitly.

Phil stares at him for a moment, surprise on his features, before he suddenly bursts out laughing, his eyes squeezing shut as he throws his head back to laugh. Dan only stares at him fondly, wishing more than anything that he could see him laugh like that forever. He felt such a warmth in his stomach from getting that kind of reaction out of Phil, and he knew it had everything to do with his crush on him. Dan had never felt it hit him so powerfully, however, and he found it hard to resist his instinct to lean over and kiss Phil, which is what he wanted more than anything.

Wiping a tear of mirth from his eye, Phil glances up at Dan with a smile. “Wow, Dan,” he sighs. “I can’t believe you.”

Dan shrugs sheepishly, unsure if this is meant in a good way or a bad one. “Yeah… that was… That was pretty bad,” he agrees, watching as Phil slurps up the rest of his second margarita, tossing the straw out to tilt it back into his mouth, catching the last dregs and the ice cubes. Dan smiles fondly at this.

Just as he goes to speak again, maybe to tease Phil about being a lightweight, PJ breaks the moment. “Now this next one, goes to our very own receptionist, Phil Lester,” He starts. Dan immediately cringes, hoping and praying to a god that he doesn’t believe in that PJ isn’t about to do the same shit he always does. Every year for the past three years since they’d gotten engaged, Phil had received the “Longest Engagement” award. Phil didn’t know it, but about a week ago, when PJ had been discussing award ideas with Dan, he’d begged PJ to pick something else, anything else.

Phil too, seems to tense up, probably expecting the usual embarrassment over his silly award. Dan doesn’t think before he reaches across the table, brushing his fingers against the back of Phil’s hands in a comforting fashion. Phil’s blue eyes flicker to his, a small smile quirking at his lips.

PJ continues his speech, and Dan clenches his jaw. Please not again. “And I’m sure all of you know just what it is that Philip here is getting,” PJ teases, enjoying the drama of drawing this out as much as possible. Dan glares daggers at him, but PJ either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t care. Before Dan can say anything, PJ continues, “We all know Phil Lester as the man who’s been engaged for going on four years and has yet to set a date for this wedding.”

Phil closes his eyes, shaking his head lightly. Dan wonders vaguely if he wishes he was less drunk right now. “No,” he whispers, probably thinking this is going in the direction is usually does.

“But, there’s more to Phil Lester than meets the eye.” PJ is saying, causing Dan and Phil to share a confused look before looking to their boss. “No, Phil is also the receptionist, and Dan’s best friend, and also one of the hottest in the office, let’s be honest.” There are a few laughs at this, and Phil’s just drunk enough that he barely blushes. “But no, Phil is also a family man. And by this, I mean that Phil spends a lot of time talking with his mum, or about her. I feel like Kathryn’s best friend sometimes, Phil, from how much I know about her at this point.”

Phil does blush at this and looks down as if he’s ashamed. Dan just smiles broadly, still a little unsure where this is going, but definitely glad that it’s not the same way it usually is. “I just love my mum,” Phil mumbles defensively, causing Dan to chuckle quietly, earning him a light kick in the shin from the older man.

“So, without further ado… Phil, come collect your Biggest Momma’s Boy award!” PJ announces, causing laughter and a round of polite applause to erupt from their colleagues.

Dan smiles broadly, clapping loudly. “Woo!” He mimics Phil’s earlier actions. “Go best friend!” He cheers, grinning smugly when Phil sticks his tongue out at him.

Phil stumbles unevenly to their boss to collect his trophy, and he’s got a wide, uneven smile on his face. Dan props his chin on his hand, staring at Phil fondly. He truly was adorable. Phil takes the trophy in one hand and the microphone from PJ in the other, and Dan raises his eyebrows, curious to see what kind of musings drunk-Phil is about to share with them. “Wow, guys. Thank you so much, I- I don’t even know what to say.” Phil slurs, staring down at the trophy. A few people laugh at this, and Phil flushes.

“Speech!” Dan calls, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Smiling, Phil nods. “That’s a great idea! I’d like to thank my mum, first of all. I love my mum.” Dan snickers at this good-naturedly. Phil hums into the microphone, looking around the room as if he’s thinking. “Oh, and PJ! Thank you, Peej, I like this award. It’s better than the engagement thing. That hurt my feelings.” Phil frowns as he lets this slip, and stares at the floor with his eyebrows furrowed.

Dan frowns, biting his lip as he glances to PJ. Their boss looks guilty, and he reaches for the microphone with an awkward smile. “Right, well, we should move on…”

Phil ducks out of his reach, shaking his head. “No, wait! I also wanna thank Dan, cause, you know, he’s my best friend and I love him.” A confused sort of round of applause goes around their coworkers, and Dan’s cheeks heat up as he looks down. “Oh! I almost forgot!” Phil adds, PJ holding the end of the microphone while Phil holds the top. Dan’s almost certain he’s about to bring Charlie into this, but instead he’s surprised when that’s not what comes out. “I’d like to thank God, too. I feel him here tonight.”

One of the more religious coworkers of theirs starts clapping loudly at this, and Phil just grins widely before releasing the microphone all together. The applause he receives dies down as he stumbles over to his seat, tripping over his own feet. Dan jumps to his feet and manages to catch him just before he falls on his face. “Woah, easy there, tiger,” Dan chastises, pulling Phil up to stand straighter.

Phil looks up into Dan’s eyes, leaning in close. Giggles tumble out of his lips, and he’s so close to Dan’s face that he can feel his breath ghost across his own lips. “My hero,” Phil whispers. Then, surprisingly quick and precise for someone so drunk, Phil ducks forward and presses his lips to Dan’s firmly, catching the younger man completely by surprise. Dan can’t help but squeeze Phil’s sides where he’s holding him steady, responding to the kiss gently.

Pulling away, Phil blinks slowly, staring at Dan’s lips. He giggles then, loudly. “Sorry,” he whispers, bringing a hand up to pat Dan’s cheek.

Dan clears his throat, nodding and stepping away, helping Phil to his seat. “Uh- it’s- it’s okay.” He nods, trying his hardest not to fixate on the fact that he had just felt Phil’s lips against his own.

He glances around, and he’s surprised to see that basically none of their coworkers are even giving them a second look. And sure, it wasn’t like they had made out or anything, but he’d definitely expected some kind of reaction out of them. He awkwardly returns to his seat, running a hand through his curls as he glances over at Phil, who is resting his head on his arm on the table, trailing his hand through the ring of water left behind from one of the margaritas.

“Phil, you okay?” Dan asks quietly, leaning over the table to speak to Phil.

“I don’t feel well,” Phil admits, closing his eyes.

“Oh, um… Do you want to go home?” Dan asks, slightly disappointed.

Phil shakes his head slowly. “No. Wanna eat something first.” He whispers.

Dan smiles at this, pulling his menu out from under Phil’s arm. “Yeah? What would you like?”

Inhaling deeply, Phil’s eyelids flutter. “You,” he says, almost inaudible.

Dan clears his throat at this, glancing around quickly to ensure that no one heard that. Phil was drunk, he probably had no idea what Dan even asked him. “No, what would you like for dinner, Phil? Do you want the chicken alfredo? I know you like that.” Dan’s barely grasping for straws here, trying hard to move the conversation to a safer place.

Phil hums at this, and his eyelids finally flicker open. “Yeah, that sounds good. Can I have another margarita?” He asks hopefully.

Smiling gently, Dan shakes his head and waves over the waitress. “No, bab- Phil. I think you need some water.”

Phil sighs, but nods. Dan relays their order to the waitress, and then sits back, watching as Phil traces shapes onto the table with the water. PJ’s voice is just background noise, and Dan feels his heart flood with warmth when Phil’s eyes flicker up to meet his. “What?” He asks softly.

Dan bites his lip, shaking his head. “Nothing,” he assures him.

Smiling, Phil props his head up with his hand to look Dan in the eyes. “I’m glad Charlie left,” he states easily, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Yeah?” Dan inquires, mirroring Phil’s stance and leaning forward across the table.

Phil nods seriously. “Yeah, he was being a dick.”

Dan laughs at this, but nods. “Mhm, I noticed.” He tries not to sound so thrilled that Phil has confessed this to him, but given the events of the night, it was hard to keep his emotions in check.

Sighing, Phil drops his eyes to the table. “Sometimes I really wish he had picked someone else,” he whispers softly.

Dan pauses at this, unsure of what exactly it is he needs to say. What?

Before he has the chance to ask for clarification, the waitress returns with their meals, placing them in front of them before asking if they need anything else. Dan just smiles tightly and shakes his head, asking her to bring it to them on a shared tab. He’s glad Phil is inebriated, because if he wasn’t Dan’s pretty sure he’d try to argue with him about paying for his meal.

They eat in silence, Phil making appreciative humming noises when Dan asks if his food is alright. He asks for a cup of water to go from the waitress before sending her off with his credit card to pay for their food. The award ceremony is dwindling to a close, and Dan figures they could go ahead and leave when his card is brought back. Phil finishes off his food and sits back with a sigh, smiling tiredly at Dan.

“Did you have enough to eat?” Dan asks him sweetly.

Phil smiles, a soft look to his face as he nods. “Mhm. It was really good. Did she-“

“Here you go, sir. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” The waitress returns with Dan’s card, and sets the cup of water down in front of Phil.

“Thanks,” Dan smiles at her, pulling his wallet out to return his card to its proper spot.

Phil furrows his eyebrows at Dan then, his lips dropping into a pout. “Did you pay for mine?” He asks in a small voice.

Dan chews on his lip uncertainly, suddenly wondering if Phil would be genuinely upset. “I-“ before he can finish, Phil interrupts him.

“Charlie never does that,” he whispers, staring hard at the table.

Dan swallows a lump in his throat and nods, standing and tugging on his coat before going around to grab Phil’s off the back of his chair. He holds it out for him, nodding. “C’mon, Phil. Let’s get you home.”

Phil shoves his arms into the sleeves, mumbling something Dan can’t really hear. PJ doesn’t spare them much of a second glance, probably realizing that Phil was completely trashed at this point. Dan gingerly wraps an arm around Phil’s waist, guiding him to the door as the older man stumbles around. “Easy, careful. Watch your step,” Dan says quietly as he helps Phil out to his car. Phil giggles as he climbs into the passenger seat, clearly finding his inability to walk in a straight line to be pretty hilarious.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Phil murmurs as Dan gets in the driver’s seat and helps Phil buckle his seatbelt.

“You’re welcome,” Dan smiles over at him as he starts the car.

Phil breathes deeply, closing his eyes. “No one ever takes care of me.”

Dan’s heart clenches tightly at this, and he can’t help but lean over and grip Phil’s hand. “I…” He swallows hard before continuing, knowing he can’t say this, he can’t mean this, because he just can’t, Phil’s not his, and yet, he still says it. “I’ll always do my best to take care of you, Phil.” He whispers.

Phil doesn’t answer, but he does squeeze Dan’s hand. They ride in silence for the next few minutes, and it isn’t until they get closer to the apartment Phil and Charlie share that Dan begins to let himself feel sad. He doesn’t want to do this, to just let Phil go back to that douchebag. Because Dan’s selfish and he wants to keep Phil for himself.

“Phil? We’re almost there. Do you want to drink some more of this water to sober up before you go home?” Dan asks, because he’s not a dick, and he’s not going to overstep his boundaries here.

Surprisingly, Phil shakes his head, and then sits up as if he’s remembered something important. “Please don’t make me go home,” he pleads suddenly, turning to face Dan with a look of panic on his face.

Dan frowns, glancing over at Phil as he takes a turn onto the street Phil lives on. “What? Phil, I-“

Phil shakes his head frantically. “I don’t want to go back to Charlie. I can’t, I can’t do it, Dan.” His voice wavers then, and Dan feels his hand come up to grip his forearm.

“I… Phil, what do you mean? You don’t want to go home tonight, or…?”

Phil seems to swallow hard then, glancing out the window at his apartment building that Dan has just pulled up in front of. “I don’t love him anymore,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

Dan draws in a deep breath at this, holding it for a second as he tries to process what he’s just been told. He lets it out slowly and gradually, letting the car idle, never taking his hands off the wheel. His head is swimming with thoughts, most of which he has absolutely no clue how to address. “Okay…” Dan says slowly. “You need to tell him, I think,” he says softly into the quietness surrounding them.

“I can’t,” Phil protests, shaking his head. “He’ll… I don’t know what he’d do if I did that, but I just… I can’t be with him.”

Struggling to make sense of this but knowing that he’s got to come up with some sort of solution here, Dan sighs. “Do you want to come stay at mine tonight, and try to figure this out tomorrow?”

Phil nods, his eyes wide and full of unshed tears. Dan’s heart breaks a little at the sight. “Yeah, I’d like that.” His voice is quiet and full of gratitude.

Dan nods, smiling sadly before pulling back onto the main road towards his own flat.

There had been a couple occasions where Phil had come over, but never on his own. It was always with a group, when Dan had parties and such and invited the people they worked with. It was rare, but it had happened a few times, so Phil already knew what Dan’s flat looked like. Still, Dan felt awkwardly nervous about inviting Phil in.

Dan unlocks the door with one hand, his other resting on Phil’s lower back comfortingly. “C’mon,” he says quietly, guiding Phil in.

Phil glances around the lounge, looking slightly out of place. Dan smiles at this, shrugging of his coat and pushing his shoes off by the door. “You can just make yourself at home,” he stated, gesturing to the sofa. “I’m going to go get you some ibuprofen tablets. Do you need anything else?” Dan asks, propping his hands on his hips.

The older man glances at him, a soft smile on his face. “No, I’m good.”

Dan smiles and holds up a finger to indicate that he’d be back in a minute. He stops in his bedroom and shucks off his pants and his button-up, pulling on his pajamas quickly so Phil doesn’t have to wait on his own very long. He stops in the bathroom and grabs the ibuprofen before returning to the lounge, where Phil is waiting, his phone held up to his ear. He glances up at Dan with a frown on his face, but only shakes his head when Dan gives him a concerned look.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Yeah.” He hangs up quickly after that, sighing deeply. “That was Charlie. I was just calling him to let him know that I wouldn’t be home tonight.” He explains to Dan, standing up and stumbling slightly.

Dan nods, scratching the back of his neck uncertainly. “Here, take these.” He hands the pills to Phil, nodding to the to-go cup on the coffee table, still mostly full of water.

“Thanks,” Phil says softly. He takes the tablets quickly, swallowing a few sips of water before setting the cup back down and rocking on his heels awkwardly. His eyes are still wet with tears, and Dan looks at him in sympathy.

“Come here,” he whispers, grabbing his hand and bringing him in for an embrace. Although Phil was four years older, Dan was a good inch or two taller than him, and so he easily tucked Phil’s head into the crook of his neck, pushing a hand up through his hair to hold him there. Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s waist and Dan’s heart clenches when Phil begins shaking, silently crying. “Shh. It’s okay. Everything is fine.”

“I’m sorry,” Phil gasps against Dan’s neck, which is quickly growing wet with tears.

Shaking his adamantly, Dan tightens his grip around Phil’s shoulders. “Don’t be silly. There’s nothing to be sorry for. If anything, I should be sorry that you’re engaged to such a dick,” he says in a poor attempt at lightening the mood.

Phil has a similar sense of humor and manages a wet laugh. “Soon to be ex,” he responds glumly.

Dan swallows hard at hearing the words spoken aloud for the first time. Sure, he’d expected Phil to break up with him, but he was still a little pleasantly surprised that he actually planned on doing so. Rather than ask about the when and how of this like he very much wants to, Dan pulls away just enough to look Phil in the eyes. “C’mon. I know what’ll make you feel better.” He slowly steps back, taking Phil by the hand to pull him towards the bathroom. Phil’s eyes widen comically, probably assuming Dan meant something completely different, and the younger man only laughs. “A bubble bath, you spoon.” He rolls his eyes fondly when Phil’s mouth drops into an ‘o’ in understanding.

Turning the faucet on and checking to make sure the water is at the perfect temperature, Dan shoves the stopper in before turning to grab a basket of assorted bath bombs and salts. He was a bit of a diva when it came to his baths, and he liked having a lot of good scented stuff to choose from. He hands it to Phil, who looks amusedly surprised. “Here, pick whatever you like. I’m gonna go grab you some pajamas and I’ll be right back.”

Phil nods, digging around in the basket and checking a few of the names on each of the products, likely checking for a scent he would like. Dan smiles to himself before ducking out of the bathroom, grabbing a pair of boxers, an Undertale t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants. He normally slept in boxers himself, but he’d probably be sleeping in his Game of Thrones pajama pants tonight since he was planning on offering to let Phil share his bed. He knew that was probably crossing a line, but there wasn’t a spare bedroom and the couch wasn’t long enough for either of them to sleep on. It really only made sense to offer Phil the other side of his bed.

When Dan returns to the bathroom, he’s greeted with the sight of Phil already standing with his shirt off, folded neatly on the counter by the sink. He seems to be debating about his trousers when Dan walks in, and the older man’s face floods with color when Dan smiles at him. “Did you pick some of the bombs and things out?” He asks, holding up the pajamas to show Phil before setting them on the sink as well.

“Oh, um, yeah.” He points to the things he’d picked out and Dan wanders over, smiling when he sees that Phil had picked a strawberry-scented Pokéball bath bomb and a small packet of mint-scented salts.

“I have some bubbles too,” Dan informs him, reaching onto the shelf and grabbing the bottle. Without waiting for his reaction, Dan pours a generous amount into the slowly filling tub, setting the bottle back before grabbing the bomb and unwrapping it, tossing it into the tub. He can feel Phil’s gaze on him, and he tries hard to ignore their close proximity as he pours the salts in as well. “There we go,” he announces proudly, turning around to face Phil.

Phil’s expression has shifted into one of determination as he steps even closer to Dan, and Dan barely realizes what it is that he’s doing until he feels Phil’s hands on his waist, tugging him closer. Phil leans in, and just as he presses his lips to Dan’s, the younger man tilts his head just to the side, so that Phil’s lips fall on his dimple instead.

Dan swallows hard, feeling Phil tense up when he realizes his kiss had been rejected. It takes everything in Dan to do it, but he gently leans away, putting a little more space between them so he can look into Phil’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“No, no. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what got into me.” Phil shakes his head adamantly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, avoiding Dan’s gaze pointedly.

Sighing, Dan gingerly brings a hand up to Phil’s chin, tilting it so that their eyes meet. “I want to. Believe me, I really, really want to,” he says slowly, staring straight into those blue-green eyes and hoping that Phil understands how much he wants him, how much he has wanted him for years. “But, you’re still engaged. Whether you’re ending it or not, right now you’re an engaged man, and I’m…” Dan trails off, struggling to find the right words. “I’m not going to be that man, the one who does… that.”

Phil stares at him for a long moment before nodding slowly, a kind of resigned look on his face. “Okay,” he whispers, sounding sad, but at the same time understanding.

“I want to, though. I’ve wanted that since I met you, really. But I just… we can’t do that. Not now, at least. Okay?”

Nodding, Phil steps away from him. “Okay. I… I think I respect that.”

Dan tries his hardest to hide his smile. “You think?” He asks, biting his lip.

Phil rolls his eyes, but grins. “Yeah. I think so.” He turns around to see that the bath is basically full at that point, and Dan turns to leave. “Uh, Dan?”

“Hm?” The younger man turns back around, quirking an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Can you… um, will you stay in here with me?” He asks timidly, looking embarrassed for even asking.

Dan smiles at this, and nods. It’s not like they’re doing anything. Phil just needs the company, and Dan is more than willing to grant him that. “Yeah. I’ll, uh-“ he points to the door again, gesturing to Phil’s clothes with the other hand. “Just tell me when you’re in the bath,” he says quietly as he turns around to give Phil privacy to undress.

He hears the sound of Phil’s zipper, followed by a stumbling as he no doubt struggles to stand up straight as he removes his clothes. A minute later, Dan hears the sound of the water sloshing against the side of the tub as Phil slips into the bathtub. After a minute of silence, Phil whispers, “okay.”

Dan turns around slowly, ensuring that Phil really is ready for him to do so, and he tries to keep his heart still as he sees Phil looking up at him with soft doe eyes, surrounded by bubbles. Smiling at how adorable he is, Dan walks over and sits himself on the side of the tub. “Is it warm enough?” He asks, dipping his fingers into the water at the edge of the tub.

Phil nods, his hands on his lap. Dan tries very hard to ignore the fact that there’s nothing but water and bubbles separating Phil from Dan’s gaze. He feels his face heat at the very thought, and when his eyes return to Phil’s face he’s smirking, likely because Dan had just been staring at his crotch area. Dan blushes even more profusely at this, purposefully turning away to stare at the wall behind Phil’s head.

He jumps slightly when he feels something wet and soft come up to touch his hand that’s resting on the edge of the tub to support himself. He glances down, a small smile gracing his face when he realizes that it’s Phil’s hand. Tracing his thumb over the wet skin, Dan’s eyes stay focused on their hands as Phil speaks. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Dan shrugs. “You can stop saying that. You’re my best friend, I’d do anything for you.” He would be embarrassed at how sappy that sounds, but he knows that it’s the truth. He absolutely would do anything for Phil.

“Still,” Phil shrugs. “I wasn’t kidding when I said no one ever takes care of me. Generally, I’m the one that does that for Charlie, but he’s not the same way with me.” Phil glances down at the water then, his lips curved into a frown.

Frowning, Dan brings his hand up to push back the hair that had fallen out of Phil’s quiff and onto his forehead. “Well, I’m not Charlie.” He shrugs simply, nodding to the shampoo bottle on the other side of Phil. “Hand me the shampoo.”

Phil does as asked, handing the bottle to Dan and then watching with rapt attention as Dan pours some of the fruity-smelling liquid into his hand. Dan shifts so that he’s got better access to Phil’s hair, grabbing a cup that he keeps on the edge of the bathtub for this very thing. “Close your eyes,” he breathes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed at the intimacy in this moment. His hands shake as he fills up the cup with water, his eyes tracing over the line of Phil’s neck as he tilts his head back to avoid getting water in his face.

With a careful hand, Dan manages to wet the black hair completely before lathering it in the shampoo, taking his sweet time massaging Phil’s head as he does so. Phil’s making the most adorable little sighs, and every now and then he’ll make a noise that sounds like a hum, which doesn’t help Dan’s growing… problem in his pants. “Are you enjoying this?” Dan asks, intending for it to come out sounding like a joke, but at this point he’s a little breathless and it come out sounding nearly seductive.

Phil doesn’t even seem to notice this, only nodding. “Feels nice,” he whispers.

Dan smiles proudly before finally rinsing off the shampoo. He grabs his conditioner next and gives him a repeat, although he lets the conditioner sit longer. “I’m guessing you don’t get your hair washed by someone else very often?” He asks quietly, a sadness to his voice. Dan honestly always loved having his hair washed or washing someone else’s. His last boyfriend enjoyed sharing a bath as much as Dan did, so they did it pretty often. Too bad he was a cheater.

Phil shakes his head slowly in response to Dan’s words. “No…Sometimes Charlie wants to… um…” he trails off and his cheeks flood with color, and Dan smirks.

“Sometimes he wants to have shower sex?” He guesses easily, biting his tongue when Phil smacks his arm lightly.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, laughter in his tone. “But yeah. Something like that. And like, that’s fine, but sometimes…” He sighs then, as if he’s not sure what he’s even trying to say. But Dan gets it, honestly.

He gingerly raises the cup of water to rinse off the conditioner, running a hand through Phil’s hair as he does. “Sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of,” he says conversationally.

“Yeah,” Phil whispers.

Dan only smiles before focusing solely on rinsing out his hair, which he does without getting a single drop into Phil’s eyes. “There. All done,” he murmurs when he’s finished, leaning back and wiping his hands on his pajama pants.

Phil opens his eyes slowly, smiling up at Dan with such a fond look that it grips Dan’s heart. “Thank you for washing my hair,” Phil whispers. Dan only nods wordlessly before standing, grabbing a towel and setting it on the edge of the tub.

“I’ll step out, so you can get dressed.” He nods to the pajamas before stepping out of the bathroom, hearing the sound of the water draining out of the tub behind him. He walks to his room slowly, taking a minute to catch his breath and let himself process everything that’s happened tonight. It’s been a truly long evening, and he knew that Phil was likely feeling much worse than he was, since he would likely have a hangover tomorrow, while Dan wouldn’t. He sighs as he sits on the edge of his bed, glancing at the digital alarm clock beside his bed, which reads 10:03.

“Hey, um,” Phil says from the doorway, shifting around awkwardly. Dan smiles at how cute he is standing there in Dan’s clothes, but then he’s thinking about how Phil is in his clothes and his heart is racing again. “Do you have like a blanket I can borrow?” He asks, sending Dan briefly into confusion before he realizes he hadn’t told Phil the sleeping arrangements for the night.

“Oh, you can sleep with me. I promise I don’t talk in my sleep or anything like that, and it’s comfier than the sofa.” He says, biting his lip as he waits for Phil’s response.

Please don’t freak out, please don’t freak out.

Phil looks surprised, but he chews on his lip as if he’s hiding a smile. “Okay… are you sure?” He asks again, his face unsure.

Dan nods, shifting on his bed and pulling the duvet down on the side he doesn’t sleep on, patting the space in invitation. “Yeah, come on. Just turn the light off on your way.”

Flicking the switch and casting the room in darkness, Phil stumbles toward the bed, sinking down slowly when he reaches the mattress. Dan crawls under the duvet himself, turning to face Phil on his side as he waits for the older man to get comfortable. He can just make out his face in the darkness, and Dan smiles at him. “Warm enough?” He asks, reaching out to pull the duvet further up onto Phil’s shoulder.

“Mhm. Very cosy.” Phil’s voice is quiet in the darkness, and Dan’s heart swells as a little voice reminds him that they’re actually sharing a bed.

“Good.” Shifting a little to tuck his hand under his pillow, Dan tries to keep a respectful distance away. He’d rejected Phil’s kiss not an hour ago, he needed to be careful with how he proceeded here.

“I’m scared, Dan.” Phil’s voice breaks the silence as Dan settles into a comfortable position. “I’m scared that Charlie is going to be mad when I tell him I don’t want to be with him.”

Dan takes a slow inhale, really unsure with how he needed to respond to that. “I know,” he starts slowly, because he did know. Of course Phil was nervous to do that, it was a terrifying thing to do, especially with someone as neurotic as Charlie seemed to be. “But I can go with you, if you want. I don’t want you to do it alone.” He tentatively reaches out, finding Phil’s hand in the darkness.

Phil’s fingers intertwine with his, the older man squeezing gently. “Thank you. I think I’d like that.”

Dan’s mind catches on the “think” part of his sentence, and he idly thinks about how a lot of things that Phil says include that word, as if he feels that he can’t just say that he’s sure about something. It almost feels like a safety net to Dan, but perhaps that’s just him projecting; with several years of therapy for his own issues under his belt, he can confidently say that he tends to do that sometimes.

His thoughts are interrupted as Phil pulls his hand away slowly. “Hey, Dan?” He asks quietly.

“Mhm?” Dan responds in the same tone. There’s a pause, and Dan props himself up on his elbow. “What?” He asks, concerned.

“Can you… Can you turn around? Like, can we… nevermind. Goodnight.” Phil’s words are rushed, and Dan feels the bed shift as Phil turns around.

Dan frowns, staring at the back of Phil’s head, which is kind of just a blur in the darkness. Tentatively, he sets a hand on Phil’s shoulder. “What do you need, Phil? Do you…” he’s unsure if he’s projecting here or if maybe, just maybe, Phil wanted the same thing he did here. “Do you want to cuddle?” He asks, feeling silly even asking.

To his relief, Phil rolls back over, and Dan can just make out the smile on his face in the darkness. “Please,” he whispers.

Dan smiles at this and settles back down. “Do you want to be the big spoon?” He asks, Phil’s earlier words bouncing around in his head.

Phil nods quickly, confirming Dan’s thoughts. Dan dutifully turns around and scoots back to press his back to Phil’s chest. This is okay, right? He can cuddle with his best friend. It’s not like they’re doing anything that would compromise a relationship, even if that relationship was coming to an end. This was just simple, platonic cuddling.

“Better?” Dan asks as Phil drapes an arm over his waist, intertwining their fingers. Phil’s left arm is pillowing his head, and Dan feels small and safe like this, something he rarely feels. Even if this evening had been about making Phil feel safe and taken care of, Dan feels that this might be doing the trick for him too.

“Mhm. Much. I never get to be the big spoon,” Phil mumbles sleepily against Dan’s neck. Dan squirms as he feels his lips brush the space there, his neck an incredibly sensitive place for him generally. “Sorry, I forgot about your neck thing,” Phil whispers, holding his face a little further away.

Dan smiles at how considerate he was, closing his eyes as he truly lets himself feel how exhausted he is. “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds quietly.

Phil laughs softly then, and after a few moments, Dan feels his breathing slow down, getting slower and deeper. Dan smiles at this and starts working on matching his own breathing to Phil’s. Falling asleep like this is nice and almost therapeutic for Dan, and the last thing he thinks of as he falls asleep is that by the following night, Phil would be a single man.

---

The next morning is a little strange for both of them, mainly because when they wake up, their legs are tangled together and there’s not an inch of space between them. Phil’s left arm had somehow managed to shift last night to cushion Dan’s head, while his right hand had somehow wound up tucked under Dan’s shirt. While Dan had blushed at this, he also thought it was sort of adorable. He feels even breaths on his neck and just lays there in silence for a moment before he feels Phil slowly tracing shapes on his stomach. So, a good strange, but strange nonetheless.

After getting up and making coffee, Dan suggests that they have pancakes before the inevitable part of the day where he drives Phil back to his apartment, where he’s going to break things off with Charlie. Dan doesn’t want to feel good about this, at least on Phil’s behalf, because he knows better than anyone that sometimes even a toxic relationship can hurt when you let go of it. So, he was determined to be there for Phil, in whatever capacity he could be.

They have a quiet breakfast, mainly due to the fact that Phil is still a little hungover and his head his hurting, but Dan makes him eat enough to take some ibuprofen, insisting that he take some and drink two glasses of water.

“It’ll make you feel better,” he sing-songs, trying to be as convincing as possible.

Phil groans, but nods, swallowing another bite of pancake before scooping the tablets into his mouth and downing them with the water Dan handed him. Dan doesn’t move from his side until he’d drank the whole glass, and only after he’s refilled it and set it back down does he go back to his own breakfast.

After washing up the dishes and cleaning the kitchen a little, Dan goes to his room to get dressed, offering Phil some of his clothes so he’s not re-wearing the same thing he’d worn the night before. Phil comes out of the bathroom wearing a black sweatshirt and a pair of black jeans, looking slightly embarrassed. “Everything you own outside of work clothes is just pitch black, isn’t it?” He asks, shoving the long sleeves up his arms a bit.

Dan shrugs, gesturing in his closet with a smile as he grabs his phone. Phil peeks around and lets out a low, “oh,” before turning to look at Dan with a look of surprise on his face. “That’s like, a black hole, Dan.”

“My favorite kind of hole,” Dan grins at the way Phil rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated by Dan’s lame jokes. “Ready to go?” He asks, gesturing to the door.

Phil nods, sighing. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Dan gives him a sympathetic look before walking out of his flat, locking the door behind him before leading Phil to his car. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be right outside if you need me, you know.” He hesitates before figuring, fuck it, reaching out to take Phil’s hand in his. “I’ve been there, but trust me, it’s going to be fine. I’ll be right there with you,” he reassures him, watching the way that Phil smiles tentatively, nodding.

The drive to Phil’s flat is quiet, and Dan idly wonders if he’ll kick Charlie out. A distant memory, one of Phil mentioning that he’d moved in with Charlie after they officially got engaged about three years ago, floats into his mind, and he cringes. The flat is likely in Charlie’s name only, meaning Phil wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. Dan already knew he’d offer his own flat, but he was uncertain about whether Phil would accept or not.

When they pull up outside of the towering brown brick building, Dan turns the car off, turning to study Phil. Phil’s not looking at him, his gaze locked on the door to the building, a terrified look on his face. “Hey,” Dan says gently, reaching out to touch Phil’s arm gently. Phil’s fearful eyes flit to meet Dan’s, and he reaches up to grip Dan’s hand. “I’m right here, okay? Do you want me to go in with you?” he asks softly, not really wanting to but willing to do it if it would make him feel more at ease.

Luckily, Phil shakes his head. “No, I can do this on my own. I need to do this on my own. But… Can you like, wait outside the building? In case he does try to do something?” Phil sounds nervous just asking this, but Dan’s already nodding before he can finish.

“Yeah, of course.” He unbuckles his seatbelt immediately, slipping out of the car, Phil quickly following behind.

Phil stares at the door, a pained look on his face. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Hopefully this won’t take long,” he mutters before glancing at Dan.

Dan only nods, stepping to lean against the side of the building while he waits. “I’m right here if you need me,” he reminds him gently before Phil nods and disappears into the building. Dan sighs then, settling in to wait, his stomach twisting with nerves.

---

As it turns out, Phil is right. It doesn’t take as long as Dan thought it might, as he’d expected to be out there anywhere from half an hour to a full hour. So, although he was impatient and more than ready for Phil to come back, he’s surprised when Phil comes through the door, a duffle bag slung over one arm, a backpack slung over the other. Dan steps forward to ask how it went, but it’s not until then that he realizes that Phil isn’t alone.

“You,” Charlie hisses, his voice full of venom.

Phil spins around at this, glaring at Charlie. “Drop it, Char. Leave Dan out of this.”

Charlie completely dismisses this, stepping closer to Dan, who is quickly feeling claustrophobic and nervous. “So, I was right. This is all your fault. I fucking told Phil, I told him that I didn’t like you two hanging out. What did you say to him? Huh? What the fuck did you tell him?” He’s screaming into Dan’s face, and if Dan was a smarter human, he’d probably think before speaking.

“Get the fuck out of my face, for starters,” Dan says calmly, a weird kind of adrenaline thrumming through his veins. He’d been bullied as a child, but he’d also been a smartass. He knew the script for this scene, and he knew that Charlie wasn’t likely to actually do anything out here, on a busy street; or at least, he hoped that was the case.

“Excuse me?” Charlie growls, his voice threateningly low.

“Charlie, stop. Dan, come on,” Phil tries, standing just behind Charlie, pleading with Dan with his eyes.

“You’re excused. And, if you’ll excuse me, actually, I’m gonna get going. Nice chat.” He nods cordially to Charlie before gracefully sidestepping him, moving over to Phil.

“Fuck you, Howell!” He shouts, his face red and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“No thanks,” Dan calls over his shoulder with a shrug, taking the duffle bag from Phil to put in the car.

“Fine. Whatever. You know what? You can have him. Fucking slut.” Charlie seethes, crossing his arms.

Dan pauses from where he’s setting the bag in the car, and he turns to face Charlie as he shuts the door. Phil catches his gaze, a questioning expression on his face. Dan only shakes his head slowly, his eyes meeting Charlie’s. Every fiber of his being is screaming for him to go over there and punch this idiot in the face, but Dan’s not an idiot. He’s well aware that Charlie could hurt him, and even then, he knows that Phil is strictly against violence, and he wouldn’t dare initiate a fight with his ex, especially not in this situation.

“I feel sorry for you,” Dan says simply, putting as much pity into his voice as he can. “You’re bitter, and hateful, and sad. And now you’re losing the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” Dan shrugs then, nodding for Phil to get in his car. Phil complies, and after seeing that he’s put his seatbelt on, Dan turns back to Charlie, who looks unsettled, underneath the set jaw and defiant stance. “But you know what? You fucking deserve it. Bye, asshole,” He mutters as he slides into the car, slamming the door behind himself.

Phil watches Dan as he slides his seatbelt on, starting the car at the same time. They’re silent as he pulls out of the parking space and onto the main road, neither of them sparing Charlie a second look. “You didn’t have to say that,” Phil says quietly.

Dan cringes, worried that he’d offended Phil, even though that hadn’t been his intention. “I’m sorry, I know-“

“No, I mean… You didn’t have to defend me… and you did.” Phil’s voice sounds inquisitive, and Dan spares him a glance as he takes a turn, heading back to his own flat.

“Of course I did,” he says gently. “I care about you, I’m always going to do that, Phil.”

Phil looks down at his lap, and Dan catches the smile that stretches across his face. “Thank you,” he whispers, still looking down.

Feeling bold, Dan reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing Phil’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “Anytime.”

---

“You can stay here as long as you need, Phil, I promise you’re not intruding. I live alone, remember?” Dan says later as they’re in the kitchen making dinner. They had spent the majority of the day after the whole Charlie situation just lounging in the living room, watching anime. Phil hadn’t brought the whole thing up until a few minutes ago, when he’d followed Dan into the kitchen, where he was making stir fry. He’d asked Dan if it would be okay for him to stay the night again, and Dan nearly laughed.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother,” Phil says uncertainly, rubbing his arm as he watches Dan move around the kitchen.

“Of course. I love having sleepovers, Phil. This’ll be fun for me, I promise.” Dan reassures him yet again.

Phil nods, still looking unsure, but slightly more willing to accept it. “Want any help?” He asks, gesturing to what Dan is doing.

Dan shrugs, but there’s really nothing for Phil to do. “Well, not right now, I’ve just gotta keep an eye on this until it’s done.” He smiles slightly, nodding to the lounge. “You wanna go watch some more anime while I do this? I’ve seen most of that season anyway,” he suggests, not to get rid of Phil, but just to give him something to do.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Phil looks kind of embarrassed as he speaks. “I kind of just… wanted to be with you,” he admits, his cheeks dusting with that adorable pink color that Dan just wants to kiss right off.

Dan grins when he processes his words but tries his hardest to appear nonchalant. “Yeah?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. “Well, here I am,” he says jokingly.

The older man nods at this, biting his lip as if he’s debating on something. “Can I…” He trails off, his cheeks reddening as he looks at Dan.

Stirring the food in the pan, Dan glances over his shoulder, waiting patiently for Phil to continue. When it’s clear he isn’t going to, Dan frowns. “Phil, whatever it is, yes. It’s fine.” He shrugs, figuring that nothing Phil could be considering could be too bad. After all, Dan had been basically in love with Phil for years, the fact that he was now single made him even more certain that he was perfectly willing to comply with anything Phil suggested; within certain limits, considering he was still very much in the middle of making their dinner.

Phil studies him for a moment, and Dan only smiles reassuringly at him. This seems to prompt Phil into action, and he steps closer, positioning himself right behind Dan. Dan swallows hard at the warmth he feels against his back, but then he’s gasping quietly as Phil wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, holding him against his chest tightly. Heart racing wildly, Dan tries so hard not to grin or do anything stupid like laugh hysterically; this is harder than it should be, as he’s been longing for this kind of intimacy with Phil for years.

“Is this alright?” Phil whispers into his ear, his chin propped on Dan’s shoulder.

Dan nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, this is fine, Phil.” He brings his hand that isn’t stirring their food up to tangle in Phil’s hair, petting gently. Phil hums at this, and Dan smiles, feeling completely warm as they stand in his little kitchen like that, Phil clinging onto him like a lifeline. But Dan didn’t mind this; quite on the contrary, as it felt refreshing to feel as if he was needed by someone.

And so, they stand there like that until their food is done, and then they take it into the lounge to eat while they watch Netflix, Dan insisting that the dining table was strictly just for decoration in his house.

---

It’s not until nearly two hours later, dinner long gone, and plates deposited into the sink, that Phil finally acknowledges the day’s events.

“Dan,” Phil says softly from where he’s sat leaning against Dan’s side.

“Mhm?” Dan responds, his eyes straying from the episode of Stranger Things that they were on to look over at Phil.

Phil swallows hard, and Dan’s eyes shamelessly trace the way his Adam’s apple bobs. Dan always finds this insanely hot, so he quickly moves his eyes back up to Phil’s face, feeling guilty for even having that thought. “There’s a reason I couldn’t marry Charlie,” he admits softly.

Dan frowns at this, moving to sit back so that he has a better view of Phil’s face. “Other than the fact that he was an emotionally abusive dick who took every opportunity to treat you horribly?” Dan asks, trying his hardest to make it sound light and joking, when in reality his opinion of Charlie was even worse than that. But he definitely wasn’t about to tell Phil what he really thought of his stupid ex.

“No, believe it or not, there were other factors,” Phil tries to match his tone, but it too falls slightly far of humor, but Dan smiles anyway.

“Yeah, and what were some of these other factors?” He asks, bringing his hand up to brush a stray hair out of Phil’s eye.

Phil glances away briefly, taking a deep breath. “I’m in love with someone else.”

Dan’s heart plummets at those words, and he slowly withdraws his hand. His mind is suddenly flooded with various thoughts, most of which are just completely confused. He really thought, after Phil kissed him at the restaurant, and then tried to do the same again in the bathroom… He’d really thought that mean that he felt the same…

Phil seemingly realizes that Dan has gone into full panic mode, and he sits up. “Dan.” When he’s met his gaze again, Phil carefully sits onto his knees, throwing one over Dan’s legs so that he’s straddling his lap. Dan swallows, his heart pounding as his blood rushes south. “I’m in love with someone that isn’t Charlie.” He says this slowly, and Dan furrows his eyebrows, and he’s pretty positive that Phil is trying to make a point here.

“But…” He stutters, looking past Phil, trying to make sense of this. He’s not in love with Charlie… which Dan already knew… But he didn’t say…

“Dan,” Phil says softly, bringing his hands up to cradle Dan’s face. “It’s you. I couldn’t marry Charlie because I’m in love with you.”

The words leave his lips and enter the air between them, and Dan can only stare dumbly up at the man on his lap, his mouth dropping open as if he’s got an actual response. He feels as if his mind has had some sort of glitch, and he can only process the ladder half of Phil’s announcement. “I’m in love with you,” echoes around Dan’s head until he finally manages to get his brain back to communicating with his mouth.

He opens his mouth to say something, an affirmation that he felt the same perhaps, but what comes out of his mouth is not exactly what he thought. “Are you sure?” He asks, immediately blushing as the words tumble out.

Phil opens his mouth at this, and then pauses, tilting his head as he looks at Dan. Instead of annoyed, however, his face floods with a fond look, and he smiles. “Positive.”

Dan sees it coming this time, naturally, because Phil’s hands are still holding his face, so of course Dan fully realizes what his intentions are when he leans in. Unlike last night, however, Dan has no intentions of stopping him.

Their lips brush tentatively at first, and Dan brings his hands up to settle gently on Phil’s hips. At the contact, Phil seems to gain a little more confidence, and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Dan almost groans at this, swiping his tongue across Phil’s bottom lip in question. Phil barely hesitates before opening his mouth, allowing Dan to explore inside. They sit like this for several moments, until Phil shifts, and Dan gasps at the friction that his movement causes.

“Wait,” Dan gasps, pulling away slightly. “Are we- do you want to...?” He trails off a little, but at his words, Phil only groans, grinding down hard into Dan’s lap, causing his half-hard cock to swell in arousal. “Fuck, okay. Bedroom.”

Phil only nods before sitting up, tugging on Dan’s hands to pull him from the sofa and down the hall. Dan’s in a daze at this point, his arousal taking away the majority of his common sense as he struggles to grasp the reality that this is happening. He’s about to have sex with Phil, who he’s been pining after for close to six years. He groans when Phil sits on the edge of the bed, pulling Dan closer by his waist.

“This okay?” Phil asks against his lips as he drags his hands down to the zipper of Dan’s jeans.

“Yes,” Dan gasps, pressing his lips to Phil’s with fervor as the older man works on getting his jeans undone. Meanwhile, Dan is thinking Phil’s got entirely too many clothes on, and he begins tugging at his shirt incessantly. “Off,” he whispers, pulling away just enough to tug the thin material off his head, tossing it somewhere behind him carelessly. Sure, Phil looked good in his clothes, but Dan imagined he looked even better without them.

Dan takes a moment to just look then, and as his hands trail along Phil’s chest, it occurs to him that Phil only just broke up with his fiancé a few hours earlier. Despite the fact that Phil had initiated this, doubts suddenly creep in, and Dan slowly pulls away.

“What? Are you okay?” Phil asks, pausing his movements of tugging Dan’s jeans down his legs to look up at him in confusion.

Dan nods uncertainly. “Yeah, it’s just... you just broke up with Charlie, Phil. Are you sure you’re ready?” He doesn’t mean to ruin the moment, really, but he can’t help that nagging feeling that he needs to ask, just to be absolutely sure.

Phil smiles fondly then, bringing his hands up to cradle Dan’s face like he had done before. “Yes, Dan. I’ve wanted this for so long. Please, please let me have it.” His words are almost begging, and even a stronger man couldn’t resist that. Dan only nods, his throat too tight to say anything. “Besides,” Phil adds, almost conversationally. “Charlie and I haven’t slept together in almost six months.” His voice has an embarrassed tone to it, but Dan sees the frown on his face.

“Hey,” He says gently, reaching down to brace himself on Phil’s shoulders as Phil tugs the jeans off his feet, one foot at a time. When Phil meets his gaze, Dan smiles reassuringly. “I’m not Charlie, okay? So, whatever you did with him, whatever sex or anything was like with him, just forget that for now.”

Phil nods at this, albeit a little uncertainly. Dan decides that’s the best he’s going to get and tugs his own shirt off before gently pushing Phil’s shoulders back, motioning for him to move further up on the bed, so that his head is resting on the pillows and the rest of him is spread out. Dan gives himself a moment to just look and appreciate the tapered waist and his broad shoulders, and the soft trail of hair that leads to the top of his underwear. Dan licks his lips then, his dick swelling in his pants at the thought of what’s to come.

“Are you going to keep looking at me or are you going to touch me?” Phil finally whines softly.

Dan smirks at this, but brings his hands up to his zipper, undoing it smoothly before tugging the offending fabric down his legs. It takes a moment of struggle and giggles to pull the jeans completely off, but Dan smiles when they’re on the floor and out of sight. “So beautiful,” Dan murmurs, trailing his hands up Phil’s thighs, tucking one up the leg of his borrowed boxers, tracing the soft skin there with his index finger.

Phil shifts on the bed, clearly growing impatient. Dan watches his face, waiting for him to demand to be touched. When no such demand comes, Dan frowns. He was generally a bottom, and while he didn’t mind topping, he’d certainly not imagined their first time going any other way. He figures maybe this is just something Phil needs a little direction on, maybe he’s not used to taking the lead on these sorts of things.

Despite the idea that this might ruin the mood, Dan figures it’s in their best interest to just ask which way Phil would prefer to do it. “Er- do you want to bottom or top?” He asks, suddenly nervous of the answer. Of course he wanted to do both with him, but he could see the outline of Phil in his boxers and knew that he himself was slightly smaller. He didn’t think Phil to be a size queen, but he also didn’t want to disappoint on their first time. With being a bottom, Dan knew he couldn’t really fail; one of his many personal prides was the fact that he took cock so well, after all.

Phil looks positively puzzled by the question. “Oh, um, I just assumed I’d bottom.” Seeing Dan’s expression probably, Phil continues. “That’s what I always did with Charlie. He didn’t like to bottom.” He bites his lip after he says this, looking up at Dan in what is very clearly uncertainty.

Dan sits back on his heels, his hands leaving Phil’s thighs in favor of resting on his knees gently. “Okay, is that what you want to do now?” Dan asks, sensing a little reluctance on Phil’s part.

This seems to give Phil pause. “I... I’ve never really been given the choice,” he says softly. Dan’s eyes widen slightly, and he tries not to let Phil see his surprise.

“Would you like to top?” Dan asks sweetly, stroking Phil’s knee and the smooth skin just above it gently.

“I... I don’t know, with Charlie I always-“

Dan cuts him off then, tired of how many times the name Charlie had already made it into their conversation. “Nope, no more Charlie. I’m not asking what you did with him, Phil. I’m asking what you want to do with me, right now.” As if to get his point further across, Dan brings his hand up to Phil’s cloth-covered bulge and squeezes gently. Phil groans at the contact before leaning forward and grabbing at Dan’s arms. “What do you want, Phil?” Dan whispers, trying his hardest to give it a seductive quality.

“You, god- wanna be inside you.” He gasps out as Dan continues to squeeze and massage his cock.

Dan smiles down at him, squeezing him gently once more before crawling towards his nightstand. Phil is panting beside him, and Dan fumbles with the lube when Phil brings a hand up, slipping a finger under the band of Dan’s underwear teasingly. Phil smiles innocently when Dan turns around to shoot him a look, and Dan only rolls his eyes as he finally gets hold of the bottle of lube he keeps in his drawer. It was half-used already, although Dan hadn’t slept with anyone in well over a year. He just enjoyed fingering himself, and when you’re twenty-seven and you live alone...

“Do you want to stretch me or do you want me to do it myself?” Dan asks Phil, holding the bottle out to him in offering. Phil sits up at the sight of it, taking it tentatively.

“Can I do it? I’ve never done it to another person,” he requests quietly, glancing down as his cheeks flush.

Dan only nods frantically. He loved to be fingered, and it was even better if it was someone else, so heat was already pooling in his stomach in anticipation. He sits up on his knees then, and with a confidence he doesn’t entirely feel, he pushes his boxers down to his thighs, freeing his cock from the confines of the material. He blushes when Phil’s hand comes to rest on his thigh, his long, pale fingers trailing up gently.

“Dan,” Phil chokes out, his eyes trailing over every inch of his skin, while his fingers continue to trace up and down his thigh.

Dan only smiles, shifting to pull of his boxers entirely. He sits up and gently pushes Phil to lean back on his hands, slowly dragging his hands down his pale chest. He allows himself a moment to marvel at the hair that trails down underneath the band of the older’s boxers, petting softly. Phil shifts, and Dan smirks when he meets his gaze and sees Phil biting his lip harshly. Feeling slightly guilty for teasing for so long, Dan leans forward and kisses Phil’s chest softly before tucking his fingers into the band of his underwear, slowly dragging the material down.

As he drags the last piece of cloth down Phil’s legs, Dan can’t help the soft noise that leaves his lips as his eyes zero in on his cock. “Oh my god,” he mutters lowly, swallowing hard. He’s long and thick and Dan’s fairly certain Charlie is a fucking idiot disaster gay if he didn’t want to bottom for him.

Phil smiles shyly at him, moving his legs to push his underwear off the rest of the way with his feet. Dan shoves the material off the bed before crawling between Phil’s legs, pulling him in to press a kiss to his lips. “Are you sure about this?” Phil asks, pulling away a little, just enough to brush Dan’s curls back.

Nodding, Dan trails his hand down, wrapping his hand around Phil’s swelling arousal. Phil sucks in a sharp breath at this, and Dan only smirks to himself as he starts moving his hand slowly. “Can I suck you first?” Dan asks quietly, locking his gaze with Phil’s.

The older man nods, his eyes just barely open. “Please,” He whispers. Dan smiles as he pushes gently against Phil’s shoulders, guiding him to lay back on the pillows.

Dan starts out slow and teasing, pressing kisses to Phil’s neck first, gently sucking on the skin above his collarbones. Phil sighs contently as Dan slowly makes his way down his chest, grazing his teeth over one of Phil’s nipples, staring up into his eyes to gauge his reaction.

“Dan,” Phil gasps, his hand coming to rest in Dan’s hair. “Do... oh. Do that again.”

Ever the people pleaser, Dan complies easily, placing his lips over the nub of flesh and sucking gently. Phil arches up, and Dan smirks against his skin. He pays careful attention to each of them before he continues on his way, heat building in his stomach as he gets closer to his destination. If there was one thing Dan enjoyed, it was having a dick in his mouth, and the fact that this was Phil just made it so much better.

Teasing, Dan presses a kiss to the head, pressing his hands against Phil’s hips to keep him still, as the contact had made him buck up. “Stay still,” Dan murmurs before wrapping his lips around Phil’s cock, swirling his tongue around the tip slowly.

“Dan,” Phil sighs above him, throwing his head back on the pillows.

The younger man just grins before sinking down suddenly. It’s a good thing he had the foresight to hold Phil’s hips, because he has next to no control, squirming around under Dan’s touch. “Good?” Dan asks smugly. He knew it was, he was good at this.

“Yes. God, yes.” Phil raises his head up off the pillow to meet Dan’s eyes as he sinks back down on Phil’s length, and his gaze darkens. “God, Dan. You look so fucking good.”

Dan only bats his eyelashes at this, currently unable to speak. He sets to work, stroking the base with one hand as his mouth works the top, but after a couple minutes, Phil is tugging at his hair, pulling him off. “Are you okay?” Dan asks as he pulls away, a string of spit and precome trailing from his mouth to Phil’s leaking cock.

“Yeah, just- I wanna finger you now.” His cheeks somehow flush from saying this, and Dan’s eyes nearly roll back. Somehow even while they’re in the middle of something so intimate, Phil makes Dan’s heart flutter, his heart filled with affection for his best friend.

“Yes, fuck, yes.” He lays down, switching positions with Phil so that he’s now kneeling between Dan’s legs. Dan hands him the lube before spreading his legs, his hands gripping onto his thighs to hold himself still. He’s basically vibrating with excitement at this, and he’s surprisingly unbothered by how open and on-display he currently is.

Phil stares at him for a long moment before lifting his hands to Dan’s legs, slowly working his way up. When he reaches Dan’s inner thighs the younger man inhales sharply, shaking with excitement. “Please,” he whimpers as Phil strokes one finger along his rim, applying no pressure as he does it.

“What do you want?” Phil asks, and Dan groans. He loved this, Phil gaining the confidence to ask him things and to take the lead. It was sexy as hell.

“Your fingers. Please.” Dan pushes himself down, chasing the friction of Phil’s finger.

Phil only smiles, a fond look on his face as he reaches for the small bottle next to Dan. After pouring a liberal amount into his hand and warming it up, Phil shifts, grabbing one of Dan’s legs for leverage as he drops his hand down. “Ready?” He asks, his blue eyes searching Dan’s face for any sign of discontent.

He wouldn’t find any, because Dan is nodding frantically. He starts to say something, but then Phil is pushing a finger in and he’s gasping. “Oh,” he mumbles, his eyelids fluttering close.

“Hey,” Phil whispers, slowly drawing his finger out before pressing back in. “Look at me.”

Dan complies easily, opening his eyes and bringing his gaze to meet Phil’s. He swallows hard at the soft look there, his heart racing.

Phil only smiles at him, the hand on his leg stroking the skin softly. “I want to see your eyes,” he says softly, his gaze unwavering.

Swallowing hard, Dan struggles to make a joke. He feels so open and vulnerable with this unwavering eye contact, but he also feels incredibly hot, like he’s on fire. “Is that a kink of yours?” Dan jokes quietly.

Phil smiles, but shakes his head slowly. “Not exactly...” He slowly presses his middle finger in beside his index finger, and Dan sighs at the burn, pleasure coursing through him. “Charlie didn’t like to meet my eyes when we... but I like it.” He says timidly, dropping his eyes to where his fingers are working, a light pink dusting his cheek.

Dan frowns at this, bringing a hand up to cup Phil’s cheek, tilting his head to meet his gaze. “Okay. So look at me.”

Phil smiles at this, keeping his eyes locked with Dan’s as he spreads his fingers apart inside the younger man, stretching him open. Dan lets out a soft sigh at the feeling but doesn’t drop his gaze. If this was something Phil had been denied, he was more than willing to give it to him now.

“You can add another,” Dan eventually murmurs. Phil quirks an eyebrow, but complies easily enough, the third finger pressing in beside the others, causing Dan’s breath to hitch.

Their eyes stay locked as Phil tilts his head to the side, kissing Dan’s wrist, as his hand is still lightly resting against Phil’s jaw. Dan’s heart swells suddenly, and he feels choked up at the light kisses Phil presses to the fragile skin of his wrist. “Phil,” he breathes, unsure what he even wants, just knowing that he wants him.

“Ready?” Phil asks softly against the skin, changing the angle of his hand slightly. Dan knows that he’s searching for his prostate, and he shifts his hips, gasping when the tips of Phil’s fingers brush against that little bundle of nerves. Phil smiles, pressing against it more firmly, causing Dan to let out an embarrassing whine.

“Please, please. I’m ready.” He nearly whines again at the loss of Phil’s fingers, but he knows that it’s only going to get better.

“Do you have a condom?” Phil asks, pointing to Dan’s nightstand.

Dan bites his lip in contemplation. He did, but he really didn’t want to use one. He knew he was clean, he got tested after every time he slept with someone, and it had been about three months since the last time he’d done that. “I’m clean,” he breathes out, watching Phil’s face carefully to gauge his reaction.

Phil nods slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. He pushes his hair back up into the quiff, looking down at Dan. “I am too. Are you positive about this?” He asks, searching for confirmation one more time.

Nodding, Dan sits up and brings his hand to wrap around the back of Phil’s neck, his fingers stretching up into the hair on the nape of his neck. “Yes, I’m a hundred percent sure.” He pulls Phil closer to press their lips together, sighing as Phil’s tongue swipes against his bottom lip.

“Lay down,” Phil murmurs a moment later, pulling away from the kiss. Dan quickly complies, laying back against the pillows and drawing his legs up, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he waits for Phil to get settled. Phil takes another dollop of lube and applies it generously over his bare cock, and Dan’s breath hitches as he watches him stroke himself. “Ready?”

Dan nods, reaching up to push Phil’s hair back as he shifts, his hard length pressing against Dan’s entrance, a whisper of what’s to come. They lock eyes as Phil slowly, slowly sinks in, inch by inch. Dan can’t help it; his eyes clench shut as he drops his head back as he feels himself being stretched around the thick length and he groans loudly. “Fuck, Phil.”

A chuckle is heard above him, and then Phil’s hand is pushing underneath the back of his head, lifting gently so that Dan has little choice but to look at him. “You’re so pretty, Dan,” he murmurs, his voice soft and affectionate.

Dan feels as if he could come right then, just from the affection in his voice. It’s so real and right and fuck, he’s bottomed out and Dan is panting, struggling to fully relax himself around the intrusion. It’d been several months since his last hookup, and this was more than he’d been stretched in a long while. Phil was probably the biggest he’d ever had, so even with the stretching, he was struggling to cope with his size.

“You okay?” Phil pants, arms shaking as he tries his hardest not to move inside Dan, giving him time to adjust.

Dan takes a few deep breaths, waiting for the burn to subside considerably before nodding. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” He experimentally clenches around Phil, gasping sharply as this causes Phil to buck his hips.

“Sorry, sorry.” He’s quick to apologize, moving his hand to stroke Dan’s cheek. His other hand slides off Dan’s leg and moves to prop himself up by Dan’s head, and Phil shifts slightly so he’s leaning in closer. “Are you okay?” He says, his tone full of worry.

Dan hadn’t realized it, but tears were slipping out of his eyes, rolling down the side of his face and crashing to the pillow. He nods, smiling as he reaches up, catching Phil’s hand in his. “Yes, I’m just... I’m a bit overwhelmed, just give me a minute.”

Phil’s face softens at this, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of Dan’s eye, his tongue darting out to swipe at the tears there. “Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” He says softly, repeating the gesture on the other eye. “Do you want to stop?”

“No!” Dan almost shouts, firmly against the idea. He blushes when Phil’s lips pull up into a smirk but shakes his head. “No, I just need a second. You’re a little bigger than I’m used to, it’s just going to take a second.”

Nodding, Phil ducks down to press his lips to Dan’s, softly sucking Dan’s bottom lip into his mouth. Dan lets out a soft sound, closing his eyes as he loses himself in the feeling of Phil’s lips on his while he’s buried inside him. Shifting his hips a little, Dan decides he’s ready.

“Okay, you can move,” he breathes, clutching Phil’s shoulders as the older man pulls out slowly, before pushing back in again. “Ngh-“ Dan grunts, his head falling back.

Phil doesn’t give him much time to feel guilty about the loss of eye contact before he’s pounding into him, a little faster than Dan would prefer in the moment. He certainly wasn’t against quick and rough, but for their first time he definitely wanted to go a little slower. Hoping that Phil wouldn’t be offended, Dan drags his hands down, gripping Phil’s hips tightly, slowing his movements. “Phil, Phil. Wait.”

“Is something wrong? Oh, god, did I hurt you?” His voice is full of worry when he halts his movements, and he brings a hand up to Dan’s head, brushing his curls back.

Dan laughs breathlessly at this, shaking his head fondly. “No, not at all. Just slow down.”

“Oh.” Phil’s face flushes even darker red, his eyes dropping to Dan’s chest. “I thought it was better-“ he starts, sounding suddenly uncertain.

Dan shakes his head, dragging his hand up to swipe his thumb across Phil’s bottom lip. He’s shocked and flustered when Phil opens his mouth and wraps his lips around the tip of his thumb, but he tries not to blush too obviously. “I’m not Charlie, remember? We don’t have to go fast for it to be good.”

Phil releases his thumb and nods, uncertain. “But...”

“Phil. The goal isn’t to have a fast orgasm, it’s to have a good one.” His hand moves to caress Phil’s jaw, and he smiles when Phil’s cheeks flush, probably at his bluntness. “There’s going to be other times to go fast, alright? Just slow down for right now.” He instructs gently. He giggles when Phil ducks his head, looking embarrassed. “Are you embarrassed right now?” He asks, unable to help himself.

“Yes!” Phil whines, covering his face. “You’re sitting here talking about sex and orgasms!” He sounds positively affronted, and Dan only laughs harder.

“Phil, your cock is literally in my ass. I’m not sure how talking about it is all that weird.” He snickers, enjoying this far more than he should.

“Dan!” Phil shrieks, ducking down to hide his face in Dan’s chest.

Grinning, Dan runs a hand through his soft black hair, debating with himself. “Sorry,” he mumbles, craning his neck to kiss his hair. “Here, why don’t we try something a little different?”

At this, Phil perks up, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “What?” He asks slowly. Dan rolls his eyes at his apparent lack of trust, but he wonders if maybe Charlie suggested they try things that he wasn’t in to, or perhaps never suggested anything at all. Dan shudders to think that; he was a firm believer in trying new things and developing many different sexual habits with a partner. But he wasn’t going that far tonight.

“Roll over,” Dan instructs, lifting himself off Phil’s dick so he can follow his orders.

Phil does as requested and Dan wastes no time in climbing over him, swinging his legs over Phil’s waist. The expression on Phil’s face is one of surprise, but his eyes darken as Dan reaches back to position him at his entrance. They lock gazes just as Dan sinks down, a broken sound leaving Phil’s lips as he bottoms out. Dan sighs in content, the pleasure of being so full almost overwhelming him.

“Fuck, Phil. Feel so good like this,” Dan mutters out, slowly lifting himself before dropping back down, causing Phil to hiss out. “Is this okay? I figure- god, Phil....” he pants as Phil shifts his hips up to thrust into him. “I figured this way you’re still technically topping, but I can set a slower pace. Is this-“ his voice breaks off then as he shifts his hips, sending the head of Phil’s cock directly against his prostate.

“This is perfect,” Phil gasps, his hands trailing along Dan’s thighs, and up to hold his hips. “You feel so good, Dan.” Phil grabs Dan’s hair and gently guides him down to press their lips together, putting a bit of a pause to their movements. Dan moves his hips around in a circular motion, and Phil breaks away, gasping into his mouth. “Fuck, that’s- that’s good.”

Dan smiles and presses his lips to Phil’s jaw, trailing down his neck. “See? Told you slow was good.”

“Shut up,” Phil mumbles, catching Dan’s lips again. He keeps moving in slow circles as they kiss, but eventually he pulls away.

He presses his hands to Phil’s chest for leverage as he begins bouncing slowly on his cock, biting his lip hard to keep an embarrassing moan from slipping out. Phil pants beneath him, running his hands over Dan’s thighs, the blue of his eyes taken over by his blown pupils. “Good?” Dan gasps out in question.

“Yes, god. So good. Fuck.”

Dan smirks, leaning back slightly to change the angle just a bit. “Never heard you- fuck, right there,” he interrupts himself to whine, unintentionally closing his eyes as his every movement sends Phil pressing directly against his prostate. “Never heard you say that word much before,” he mumbles out.

“Yeah?” Phil says, his voice sounding choked. “Well, you just feel so fucking good.” If Phil thinks that him swearing turns Dan on, well, he’s right. Dan shakes, so turned on he feels like he can’t even breathe. “Dan, can we… can we flip over? Wanna…”

Dan nods, his thighs shaking too badly to really keep a steady pace. “Yeah, yeah.”

A position change and a deep kiss later, and they’re right back to it, but this time Phil is sliding in slow, the drag of his length inside Dan making the younger man whimper in pleasure. It’s slow and deep and good and Dan’s basically choking back tears at how good he feels. Maybe it’s partially due to how long he’s been celibate, but he feels that the main reason it feels so great is because it’s Phil and he’s wanted this for so long.

“Baby, don’t cry, please don’t cry,” Phil’s murmuring above him, pressing his lips to Dan’s eyes like before. Dan hadn’t even realized he was, he’s just so sappy he can’t even help it.

“You’re so good, Phil, fuck. Wanted-“ he chokes as Phil thrusts in particularly hard, a moan escaping his throat. “Wanted this for so long.”

“Me too. Fuck, Dan. I… Can I tell you something?”

Dan tries to nod, but his head is just rolling around uselessly with the movement of their bodies rocking together, so he groans out, “Yeah, anything.”

Phil doesn’t say anything for a moment, leaning down and pressing his lips to Dan’s, working against them slowly and gently. The intimacy of what they’re doing floors Dan, and he’s got a very dangerous thought in his head, and he’s relieved that his lips are otherwise occupied at the moment. Phil thrusts into him a few more times, and Dan’s breath hitches as he feels that coil of heat and arousal tightening in his stomach, ready to release.

“Phil, close,” he gasps against his lips, in hopes that maybe Phil would work towards his own orgasm. So what if Dan was a hopeless romantic and thought it was sweet to finish together? That’s his business.

“Dan,” Phil chokes out. “I love you. I’m in love with you, Dan,” he sobs, dropping his forehead to Dan’s shoulder.

Dan’s hips stutter against Phil’s before quickly pushing back against him, his hand winding into Phil’s hair to pull him up to bring their gazes together. “I love you too,” he whimpers as he feels that white-hot pleasure coursing through him. He tries his hardest to keep eye contact as his orgasm washes over him, but he’s helpless against the sensations, and he keens as his eyes screw shut, his dick twitching between them as he comes all over his chest.

He knows he’s squeezing around Phil, who’s still rocking into him, a little faster now, as he chases his own release. Dan purposefully clenches around him in an attempt to help him along. “Fuck, oh fuck. Oh god, Dan.” His voice breaks and then Dan feels Phil’s release filling him up, his movements not stopping as he fucks himself through it.

They’re both panting hard when they’ve finished, and Dan idly notices how sweaty they’ve gotten. The air smells like sex, but Dan’s too exhausted and satisfied to care. Phil’s careful, even after his release, and he slowly pulls out of Dan before collapsing onto the bed next to him. Apparently uncaring that Dan’s covered in sweat and come, Phil wraps an arm around his waist and draws him close so they’re laying chest to chest, petting his hair.

After a few minutes, they’ve caught their breath and there’s a silence settled in the room. Dan’s mind is exhausted, but Phil’s words are bouncing around in his head. I love you. Deciding that there’s only one way to know for sure, he tilts his head back to look at Phil’s face. “Hi,” he whispers with a smile when he sees that Phil is already looking at him.

“Hi,” Phil repeats, a fond smile on his face.

Dan shifts slightly, so that he’s lying on the pillow, eye to eye with Phil. “Did you mean it?” He inquires softly, glancing down at his hand as he traces patterns on Phil’s chest. “Or did you just say it in the moment, since we were both… you know.” He blushes despite himself at this, mainly due to the context.

Phil studies him for a second, likely trying to gauge his reaction before nodding slowly. “Yeah, I did.” He pauses, timidly bringing a hand up to Dan’s face, brushing his curls back gently. “Did you?”

Dan nods, smiling as he ducks forward, pressing his lips to Phil’s. “I’ve been in love with you for about… I dunno, when did you start working with me?” He says, almost joking, but not quite. He really only crushed on Phil at first, because he was cute and sweet, but then he got to know him, and well… he fell fast, that’s for sure.

Grinning, Phil presses his lips to the corner of Dan’s mouth. “Funny.” He sighs then, a thoughtful look on his face. “I don’t think I realized how much I liked you at first, but then, a couple years ago-“

Dan interrupts him then, surprised. “Wait, a couple years ago?” He demands, shocked. “I thought this was a new development for you! Like, I thought this was something you had only just figured out within the last couple of weeks!”

Phil shoots him a perplexed look, then shakes his head. “No, of course not.” He smirks then, quirking an eyebrow. “Do you think I would have just told you I’m in love with you if this was something I had just figured out?” He asks rhetorically.

Shrugging, Dan watches his own hand as he trails his fingers up Phil’s chest, dragging them through the light smattering of chest hair there. “I dunno,” he mumbles. “I guess I just figured if you knew you would have said something sooner.”

A hand comes to grip his chin, and Phil tilts his head so that he can meet his eyes. A serious look is on his face, and Dan gulps. “No, Dan. I’ve known for a couple years that I liked you more than a friend, but it wasn’t until the last year or so that I realized that I was in love with you.”

Dan shakes his head slowly, finding this a little strange to believe. “But, you were going to marry Charlie,” he says, confused.

Phil sighs, but shakes his head. He holds up his left hand, and it takes Dan a minute to realize that it’s devoid of the band that had been there for so long. His gaze shifts from Phil’s eyes, to the space where the ring used to be, and then back again, struggling to grasp what this means. Phil smiles sadly, dropping his hand back to Dan’s curls. “I gave him the ring back eight months ago. I told him I wasn’t ready, and he just made me promise that I would marry him eventually, even if we broke off the engagement.” He takes a deep breath then, staring at Dan’s curls as he flattens them and watches them bounce back up. “That’s why we were fighting last week. I told my parents that I wasn’t going to marry him, and my mum called his.”

Dan’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out in his surprise. They sit in silence for a moment before he finally manages to speak. “Oh,” is all he says.

Phil’s quiet as he nods. “Yeah,” he whispers.

They sit like that, in the quiet, for a long time, before Dan finally speaks. “I love you,” he says timidly, unsure if Phil will return the sentiment now that they aren’t currently in the middle of an orgasm.

Phil smiles at this and presses his lips to Dan’s forehead. “I love you too.”

A silence settles over them until Dan remembers something. “Do you want to move in with me? I mean- fuck, that probably didn’t sound right. I meant like, since you can’t go back to Charlie’s. Or like, until you find somewhere else, if you want. Which, I don’t mind if you don’t, you can stay here with me-“ Dan rambles, suddenly unsure if he’s crossed a line. He doesn’t want to seem like a clingy girlfriend after they only slept together once. Sure, they’d also admitted that they love each other, but still; he tended to overthink these things.

Cutting him off effectively, Phil presses his lips to Dan’s firmly. “I’d love that,” he whispers against his lips before swiping his tongue over Dan’s lower lip.

Dan smiles and returns the kiss with tired enthusiasm, his body feeling weak with fatigue. “Can we sleep now?” He asks, pulling away a little.

Phil crinkles his nose before glancing down. “Maybe we should clean up first?” He must catch the grimace on Dan’s face, and he rolls his eyes. “I’ll run you a warm bubble bath and we can cuddle in it,” he bribes, raising an eyebrow.

Dan pretends to consider this, but of course he’s going to accept, he’s not an idiot. He sends up a silent thanks to whatever god there is that his bathroom has a bathtub big enough to fit the both of them, but maybe he should just thank the designers of this flat. “I guess I can cuddle with you in the bath,” Dan sighs, as if it’s the biggest inconvenience ever.

Laughter bubbles from the older man, who is already getting up and tugging Dan along with him. “Thank you so much for you sacrifice,” he retorts, fond sarcasm coloring his tone.

And sure, maybe some things had changed. Charlie was out of the picture, and Dan and Phil were more than friends now. They both knew where the other stood, and someone it seemed that they were standing in the same place, which Dan figured was a good thing. But at the end of the day, Phil was just the dorky receptionist Dan had fallen in love with all those years ago, and Dan was still just a cocky paper salesman with an affinity for good pranks and cute blue-eyed boys who shared candy with him. So, all in all, not much had changed really.

#phan #phanfiction #phan!theoffice #this is based on phanart that I did not make #fluff #angst #smut #poorly written smut #bed sharing #friends to lovers #best friends #au #drunken kisses #bath cuddling #idk this was a lot more than i expected to write im sorry

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hattywatch · 6 years

Text

Jimmy Vesey - All Smiles Part 2

A/N: Part 1 As always, thank you to @hockeyandtaylorswift for being my ride or die and hyping me up to post things. ilu bby <3

Thursday had come and gone without anything of consequence occurring. The flipper for his front teeth came in and you prepared the posts for the implants. You had taken another mold and placed a rush order on the implants for Mr. Vesey.

There wasn't much time for conversation in all fairness, with the Novocaine inhibiting his ability to speak and your gloved fingers poking around trying to do their jobs.

Although, he did shake your hand after you showed him how to put in the flipper- just a temporary replacement of his front teeth until the permanent ones were ready.

“I really appreciate it, Dr. Y/L/N. It's nice to be able to speak again... After the numbing wears off anyway, and I stop drooling all over myself like a dog,” he shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweats.

He drops his head a little but maintains eye contact, and you feel a little rude so you start degloving your hands and drop your mask down around your neck. You're also realizing for the first time just how tall and broad your patient is, since he's usually sat on a chair and not towering over you like he is now, and you all of a sudden feel a little grubby in your purple scrubs and lab coat.

“It's quite literally my job, Mr. Vesey. No trouble at all.”

“Yeah, but still,” he knocks his head to the side in a move that would look bashful on anyone but a 6’4” man, and pulls his hand out of his pocket for a handshake.

You slip your ungloved hand into his.

“It's Jimmy, by the way.”

You look up, a little confused at first, since your brain was still focused on the large, calloused hand that was warming you from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes and continues:

“Not Mr. Vesey. Just call me Jimmy.” You smile at that, trying to pull some of your brain back together to form a sentence. It's pathetic really. You're a doctor for Christ's sake.

“No trouble at all, Jimmy.” Your smile is likely that of a gooey schoolgirl, but you do your best to pull it together and release his hand.

“The implants may take a while to get here. I'll call you when they come in and we'll set up a final appointment.”

He nods and smiles, complete with front teeth and turns to leave.

_____

When the implants come in you call Jimmy. Usually you'd have Sarah do it, but you're feeling a little brave and what's the harm in calling. It's not crossing a line, you convince yourself. Even though Sarah stares at you smirking as you sit down next to her with his file open.

It turns out you're worrying for no reason; he doesn't answer, so you leave a message.

“Hi, this is messages is for Jimmy. This is Y/N… I mean, Doctor Y/L/N… the dentist. Sorry. We just got your implants in. They look great, so just uhh, give me a call when you're ready and we can set up a date… an appointment, I mean, for you to come in and get them all finished up. Talk to you soon… bye”

Your head is in your hands before you even hang up the phone, luckily Sarah has the good graces to wait until she hears the phone click into the cradle to start cackling in laughter.

“What are you, 16? I'm dying, I'm dead. If a smokin’ hot, genius Doctor can't keep cool what hope it's there for the rest of us?”

She laughs harder when you grumble out, “You're fired,” from behind your hands, still holding your warm, embarrassed face.

He calls back just minutes after you left the message and made an appointment with Sarah. She motions for you to pick up when the caller ID read his name, but the embarrassment is still too fresh, so she stops laughing and picks up. You try to listen in as best you can, with your head face down on Sarah's desk on top of your stacked arms.

“Dr. Y/L/N? Oh, umm,” Sarah kicks you under the desk and you sit up, frantically shaking your head and waving your hands back and forth, mouthing No, no no!

“She just stepped in with another patient, actually. Do you want me to have her call you back?”

You only catch Sarah's side of the conversation from here on out, but can assume that he doesn't want you to call him back, since she just nods and enters his name into the computer for tomorrow at 6, the last appointment of the day.

“Okay, we'll see you then Mr. Vesey, have a nice evening.” She hangs up and stands to put on her sweater.

“You're pathetic. Get it together by tomorrow. I can't handle this 'will they won't they’ anymore. It's wearing on me.” Sarah leaves for the day and you kind of agree with her.

______

The final time Jimmy comes in you're determined to be as professional as possible, still embarrassed by the voicemail he has the heart to not bring up, bless him.

He looks great today. Every other time he's come in he's super casual- always sweats and a hoodie. Today is clearly testing you because he's gelled his hair and he's wearing well fitting jeans and a Henley. It's all too much, especially since you're determined to not look him in the eye, lest he know about the very inappropriate crush you've developed on him.

When you're all finished your embarrassment has diminished. You've been working hard and just listening to the soft music playing through the speakers. So rolling your chair back, you hit the button that makes his chair raise back to an upright position and remove your mask and gloves.

“I am very proud of myself,” your smile is contagious and he smiles too, “really outdid myself here,” you assure as you hand him the mirror.

He smiles into the mirror and nods his head.

“Damn. Yeah, you do good work. Made me look presentable again,” he hands you back the mirror.

“All in a day's work,” you're cringing before you get the sentence out, feeling like such a nerd.

You initiate the handshake this time.

“If anything feels funny or you get any more teeth knocked out, you know where to find me,” you're smiling but desperately trying to think of a way to make him stay.

You come up short.

He laughs though, “Hopefully I don't see you under these circumstances again.” He pulls back from the handshake.

“See you around, Y/N,” he smiles wide, his new perfect smile, “I mean Dr. Y/L/N.” He tucks his head down and exits the room and you just know your cheeks are darkening with the heat you feel.

You're so fucked.

_____

You don't expect to see him again, let's be real, who actually enjoys going to the dentist. But you do see him again, under slightly different circumstances.

Sunday morning finds you in leggings and a sweatshirt ready to do some shopping like the weekend warrior you are. You stop by the sandwich shop near your apartment, Wichcraft, for a cup of coffee and maybe a pastry if anything strikes your fancy, something always does.

The only thing striking your fancy right now though is the man sitting the booth next to the coffee station, Jimmy of course is sat with a few friends, next to where you now stand pouring milk into your iced coffee.

Of course. How fucking awkward.

He gaze keeps flicking sideways to you but he determinedly looks away when you look over at him.

Whatever, got it, will not approach. You finish making your coffee and pop up onto the counter seating in front of the window, slightly wounded but not surprised. You did make an idiot of yourself on his voicemail, so that's the end of that.

It's not until he is on his way back from the bathroom that he gets close to you, as you're awkwardly picking apart your croissant and stuffing it into your face.

“Y/N? Doctor Y/L/N?” He's speaking lowly and tentatively, approaching you like you're a timid animal.

“Yes, everything okay?” You manage around your mouthful of French pastry.

“Oh wow!” He approaches quicker now, speaking louder and more confidently. His friends, still sat in the booth, look up at the sound of his voice.

“I wasn't sure if that was you. I didn't recognize you in clothes!”

You damn near choke on the croissant and hazard a sip of your iced coffee to help it go down. He's red and sputtering apologies by the time you're able to speak.

“Not... like that. I just meant out of scrubs! Not in your lab coat! You know what I meant right? Not naked. Oh my God. I am so not making this better I'm sorry.”

He's holding his hands up in an effort to show he means no harm, while one of his friends is audibly trying to catch his breath at the booth and the other has his face down against the table, shaking with what you can only assume is silent laughter.

You do your best to help him along, “I know what you meant,” but you're laughing now too, “Please lower your voice, I don't want word to get around that I do my work in the nude. The ADA will have my head.”

Where you at now, Sarah? Look who's got some game!

He gapes at you.

Fuuuuuuuuuuu-

“I'm kidding! Just a joke!” Now your hands are up, shaking a little nervously that he really may report you. But he smiles finally, and damn, you really are fantastic at your job.

“We're really bad at this,” he huffs out. He shoves his hands in his pockets, sweatpants and a hoodie again, and he looks so soft that you can't help but give a tight smile back, still embarrassed.

“Can I maybe see you sometime, not at your office while you fix my teeth or here, where I imply I've seen you nude while you're trying to enjoy your breakfast in peace?”

Back in the game. After an internal fist pump, you decide you will relay this story to Sarah after all.

“Yeah,” you reply, probably too quickly to come off as anything but utterly desperate. “I mean, yes. Yes you can,” you amend primly, before scribbling your number onto a napkin and handing it to him.

“Awesome. I'll call you to make an appointment,” his smirk is back, “I mean a date,” he winks now and partnered with that smirk, you are literal mush.

You scrunch your eyes and lay your face into your palm, “Yeah, yeah, I know. Worst voicemail ever. Got it. I'm already embarrassed enough, stop making fun of me.”

He pulls your hand from your face, “Not by a long shot- got it saved and everything. I can call you later?”

“I look forward to it.”

His friends have joined his side now. A scruffy looking guy around Jimmy's height has a hand on his shoulder, but he looks straight at you when he speaks.

“We gotta get this guy to practice, I promise he'll talk to you later” he says as he steers Jimmy towards the door.

It's not meant for you to hear, but his jibe is so loud that you can't help it, “Smooth Vese, real smooth.”

#jimmy vesey fic #jimmy vesey blurb #jimmy vesey imagine #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl rpf #nyr imagine #nyr fic #all smiles part 2 #part 2 #hockey imagine #hockey rpf #hockey blurb #this was 6 pages #it was not supposed to be #i am terrible at this #help me im poor

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some-rfa-imagines · 5 years

Text

my r [saeran]

based off of the song 'my r' | fem!reader | soulmate au but i'll tell you which at the end (don't skip there!) | v sad ending my bad | also unedited but that's nothing new lmao

also, i know the act of taking off your shoes before committing suicide has Japanese origin but for the sake of the oneshot just pretend pls. this is a slightly different storyline than the main game as well ^^;

this is from my wattpad so it’s format is a little different than it usually is here ^^;

TW: Suicide/implied suicide, abuse, swearing, general sadness & angst.

Please be VERY careful and if you're feeling depressed PLEASE talk to someone. NEVER take your own life, I promise it's not worth it.

Saeran pushed open the door to the rooftop. He had had enough, his energy was completely drained and honestly? He really saw no point to the world. Monochrome. Monochrome was his life, his resolve, his will to keep on living. His soulmate could do better. God, soulmates. The thought made him feel cold, lonely, empty. Saeran was still young, 23 was a perfectly acceptable age to not have a soulmate. In fact, the elderly home that he volunteered at occasionally had many people still without a soulmate.

But Saeran didn't really care. About the words on his wrist nor about the existence of a soulmate of his own. The abuse from his mother until she passed, maybe, ten years ago, had slowly squeezed every drop of empathy from him, sucking him dry. He was 13 when she finally died. From there, he was placed into foster care - without his brother. But nobody wanted a husk of a child. At 15 he finally ran away and got a temporary job as a florists assistant. After that, he simply existed.

Now here he was, at 23, standing above the city with a note clutched firmly in his hand. Sighing, he wandered over to a bench, sitting down to remove his shoes. That's when he saw a purse, left beside him on the seat. Eyes widening, Saeran jolted, frantically looking around the edge of the skyrise. Across the rooftop, stood a girl with two, loose, (h/c) braids. She was in a loose, black top and high-waisted shorts. Behind her rested two black shoes, socks tucked neatly inside. Her back was turned to him and she looked up at the night sky, stars barely visible against the light of the city.

Saeran froze. He didn't know what to do. He watched as she stepped up onto the ledge. In a fit of panic, he stood, pacing quickly across the cement roof.

"Hey! Don't do it, please!"

Woah, wait a minute, what the fuck did I just say? He was now behind her, heaving slightly from moving so suddenly, eyes wide. I don't even care - I don't have the right to care. Saeran clenched his hands into tight fists by his side. He was pissed now. This was such a missed opportunity. Damn.

You turned around - slowly so you didn't fall - before seeing the accuser of the shouting. Before you stood a man, roughly your age, with silvery-white hair. The tips were a light pink and the roots had begun to grow out into a soft vermillion. He wore a black jacket, red singlet and had a striking tattoo on his right arm. But what captivated you most were his eyes - one a luminescent gold, the colour of honey and the other a bright teal that seemed to literally glow. Your breath caught in your throat. Swept up in the soft amber glow of the city, this stranger looked simply stunning.

Little did you know, he was equally captivated by you.

"Please, just come down from there. I promise, whatever is pushing you to this is so much more fucking insignificant than you might think."

"...Okay..." A whisper fell from your lips. Hey, Saeran considered, it's a start.

Slowly, you stepped down from the ledge, pulling yourself over the glass railing. Moving quietly as to not startle you, the stranger picked up your shoes and held out a hand to you. Tentatively, you took it and he guided you further onto the rooftop. You reached the bench where you had abandoned your purse. There, you began to talk. 'You've probably heard it all before,' you said. You told him about your cheating boyfriend, about how - on your three-year anniversary mind you, - he admitted to seeing other people behind your back. You were absolutely devastated. 'I really thought he might be the one, but then he told me he was done.'

Saeran grit his teeth. You've got to be kidding me.

"Oh, for god's sake, please!" He shouted, standing to face you in frustration. You jumped slightly, startled by his unexpected reaction. "Are you serious?!"

"W-What...?"

"I just can't believe that for some stupid reason - for some fucking asshole - you got here before me!" His outburst came as a painful shock to the system. "Are you upset, just because you couldn't get what you wanted? You've got to be joking- at least you've never been robbed of anything! Of your future, of your friends!"

You blinked in surprise before your vision hazed. You felt the soft, familiar trickle of tears as you forced out a broken laugh. Burying your face in your hands, you nodded, chest heaving in disbelief as you came to your senses. The stranger was silent now and you looked up, crookedly smiling at him. "Yeah. God, you're so right. What the hell am I doing...?" All the tension drained from your body and you gazed up at the sky, exhausted. "I'm feeling better now, thank you."

Saeran was quiet for a moment. How do you respond to that? He had never been good at socialising with others. "You don't need to thank me." He murmured, turning to face the sky as well.

You laughed from beside him and he paused, listening. After a moment, he decided he liked the sound of your laughter more than your crying.

"I will anyway. Thank you for listening, and for talking me down."

He let a small smile touch his lips. "Yeah, no problem."

Alright, today. Today is the day.

Several months after his last attempt, Saeran wandered up onto the rooftop of his apartment complex once more. It was late afternoon and he wanted to get this over with before he could be interrupted again. Stretching lazily, he rested a hand against the wall to support himself, unlacing his shoes and kicking off his socks. He dug around in his jacket pocket, picking out a letter from between his keys and phone. Holding onto it tightly so it wouldn't fly away in the breeze, Saeran tucked his phone and keys into his shoes.

Glancing up, he froze. What the fuck is she doing back here? Again, just like last time, the girl with (h/c) hair stood on the edge, just beyond the glass panes. She rested tranquilly against the railing, quietly lost thought. This time, she wore a knitted cream jumper and a black skirt. Her hair glowed amber in the afternoon light, the breeze picking it up and toying with it. Saeran watched warily as she mindlessly drew patterns on the glass edge. It was then Saeran realised how delicately she held herself. It was though she thought of herself as glass.

"Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" He shouted, voice carrying across the breeze.

You started at the sudden interruption in your stream of thought. Wait a moment, I recognise that voice... Turning, you faced the same stranger who stopped you last time, his hair lit up gold in the honey, afternoon glow. Barefoot, he walked toward you as you twisted to rest your body weight on the thin railing. You heard cars behind you - the evening rush. "Hey, stranger. What a coincidence."

"Come on, dipstick. You'll slip, get back over here." He held out a hand to you and a soft chuckle slipped through your lips. You unfurled your arms, taking his hand and climbing nimbly back over the railing.

Saeran internally sighed in relief, glad she stepped down so easily. If she hadn't... well, he wouldn't know what to do. God, he thought, I'm such a hypocrite.

"Why do you even care what happens to me?" Her soft-spoken words shook him out of his stupor. "Everyone else ignores me, everyone else steals. It's not like we exactly fit together either."

Saeran glanced down at the girl by his side. She looked out over the cityscape, resting against the railing once more, and he could see her (e/c) eyes looked a little duller than last time. Sighing tiredly, he looked over the skyrises as well. "You must be joking." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her glance at him. He continued, "another day, another stupid reason to get here before me."

He looked over at her, catching her quiet eyes. "Even if your friends seem to hate you, you still have your family and they still love you. Even if everyone backstabs you, you still have dinner on the table when you go home. Right?" Saeran held her gaze, watching her reaction closely.

You gasped softly, caught in the man's tired eyes. They were even more beautiful up close. What the hell am I doing... Why haven't I learnt my lesson yet? I'm such an idiot. You smiled lightly. "Yeah. I'm hungry."

Stepping away from the railing, you picked up your shoes and walked barefoot back to the door. Beaming, you faced the stranger. "Come get some food with me - my treat. For saving me again."

Saeran blinked before chuckling to himself. It's going to have to wait. As long as he could guarantee the girl standing in front of him would be okay tonight, he could survive a few more weeks. It was okay, even if no one did the same for him. Even if he had to hide his own pain every time he took on hers.

Half a year later, he tries again. Exactly like the first time, Saeran sees (Y/N). Sitting on the edge. She wore a soft yellow cardigan and her hair was loosely braided.

"(Y/N)...?" He surprised himself by speaking. He didn't think his voice could be so soft. It's become a habit and before he knows it, his shoes are off and he's running towards her. Saeran's hands shake as he jumps over the railing, slowing to a stop behind her. (Y/N) was uncharacteristically quiet.

After their impromptu dinner 6 months ago, they exchanged phone numbers and kept in contact. (Y/N) had moved back in with her parents while she got back on her feet and they hadn't been able to meet for some time. Some time passed and she suddenly stopped answering her phone. Saeran would never admit it, but he was incredibly worried about her and constantly hoped she was okay.

Walking to her side, he took a seat next to her. Noting her shoes were already off, he watched her carefully. Her eyes were completely dull, lifeless, familiar. He knew those eyes. He knew those eyes very well. He knew those eyes because those eyes were the exact same that stared at him in the mirror every morning. Those eyes that smiles never quite reached, that laughter didn't crease and that didn't light up in anticipation. Oh, god, what have they done to you?

Silently, she reached out, grasping his hand tightly. Her eyes never left the horizon as the wind picked up, ruffling her hair and lifting her cardigan. Bandages...

"I just want to stop the scars that grow every time that I go home. That's why I came up here instead." That's what the girl in the cardigan said.

...Woah, wait a minute, what did I just say? I couldn't care less either way. But in the moment, I just screamed something that I did not believe.

"Hey, don't do it, please."

Panic. Saeran's fight or flight response triggered and a wave of dread overcame him. AAAA What to do! I can't stop her this time, oh this is new. For once I think I've bitten off more than I can chew. He clasped her hand tightly to his chest. The wind bit at his eyes as icy tears began to spill. (Y/N) froze. Then her eyes turned sad, so very sad and she shoved herself further back onto the ledge before tugging him into her embrace. Please just go away, so I can't see... Your pitiful expression is just too much for me.

A broken laugh fell from your lips as you held Saeran as tight as you could muster. "I guess today is just not my day." You pursed your lips, looking out over the sunset. "I guess today is just not my day."

There's no one on the rooftop today. I guess it's time. Saeran surveyed the empty roof. Yep. No one. He sighed, kicking off his shoes and socks. He fumbled in his pocket for the fourth time, pulling out letter number four. Rewritten, permanently. Just me, myself and I. He exhaled lightly, dropping his phone and keys into his shoes as well as a second letter, just in case.

"There's no one who can interfere. No one to get in my way." He mumbled, cracking his neck. Taking off his jacket, he dropped it on the railing before running a hand through his red locks. "I'm going to do it. And I'll be free." He mounted the railing, dropping swiftly down onto the other side. "I'll be okay, (Y/N)."

You sprinted towards the rooftop door. You knew something was wrong - why didn't I check on him earlier? Yanking it open, your bare feet stung against the concrete as you raced towards the man on the edge of the building. Idiot, idiot, idiot! You screamed before you could even consider stopping yourself.

"SAERAN! DON'T DO IT! PLEASE!"

A doctor in the ward was the first to notice. Your last words to him cried loud enough for bystanders to finally notice the commotion on the rooftop. Your last words, carved into his wrists as his were into yours.

soulmate AU where the first and last words you say to your soulmate are written on their wrists, but the first only appear after you've said the last. weellll i just made myself sad

#saeran choi #mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mc #saeranxmc #my r #tw: suicide #warning #mystic messenger scenario #oneshot #scenario #angst #puffle's mastertag #unknown

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gaylotusthatexists · 6 years

Text

The Same Four Notes

Chapter Nine - Virgil

Trigger Warnings: Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Homophobia

Logan was already standing under the tree when Virgil arrived. He paused in his tracks upon seeing the blue-haired boy, stunned that he had actually shown up. Shown up early, as well. That was commitment.

Virgil took several deep breaths in attempt to compose himself. He was going to introduce Logan to Roman and Patton - even though Logan already knew them both. Now that he thought about it, he realised how much of a terrible idea it was. These three clearly had some history, and Virgil didn't think it was exactly... good. In fact, Logan has sounded kinda angry the night before - or, more accurately, bitter. He didn't seem impressed that Roman and Patton were apparently dating. Virgil wasn't keen to see the reactions of the others upon reuniting.

Still, Virgil walked up to Logan, and nodded in greeting. "You're early," he pointed out.

"You requested for me to meet you at the beginning of lunch. Lunch period started-" He looked down at his watch. "-two minutes and thirty six seconds ago."

Virgil shook his head. "Dude. You know that the other two probably won't even show up for, like, ten minutes."

"I disagree."

Virgil frowned. "What-"

Logan pointed behind Virgil. "There is a boy walking up the hill right now, short, brown hair, glasses. I assume that is Patton. However, I do not see Roman approaching."

Virgil stared blankly at Logan. "How could you possibly know-"

"I used to be friends with him, remember?" Logan reminded in.

Virgil felt something weigh down on his shoulder, causing him to duck and jump away a couple inches. He turned around, and saw the boy who had arrived. Brown hair, glasses, freckles. Patton. It was just Patton. Exactly as Logan had said. Virgil took several deep breaths to calm himself down. Patton must have just, like, swung his arms around Virgil shoulders, or something. Not exactly something he was used to. Also kind of surprising, since Patton was at least a couple feet shorter than him.

Patton looked concerned. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-"

Virgil shook his head. "I-It's fine, Pat." He gave him a weak smile.

Patton breathed a sigh of relief, and grinned at Virgil. He then looked over to Logan. "Who's this?"

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Do you not remember, Morality?"

His eyes opened wide in shock. "Wait, are you-"

"Logic. We were friends, remember?"

Virgil frowned. "Morality? Logic?" That made no sense.

"Nicknames," Patton quickly explained. "But... Logan! It's so good to see you!" He smiled, his tone suddenly excited.

"As with you," Logan said. "Where is Roman?"

Patton's face fell. "Oh... yeah, that. He's, um, kind of being held hostage?"

All of a sudden, Virgil's heart rate increased until all he could hear was the pounding in his chest. He was what?! Why was he being held hostage? And by who? Was he ok? Virgil looked over at Patton, desperately hoping for reassurance. Surely he had been joking? There was no way that Patton could be so calm about this. Oh God, what had happened, would they be ok, how would Roman-

"Don't worry, Virgil, it's nothing serious," Patton claimed, speaking in a soft voice. "Roman will be alright. We'll be alright. We just... we can't rehearse at Roman's place anymore. And we'll have to go and, like, break Roman out of his house."

He's trapped in his own house? No words could come out of Virgil's mouth. He tried to speak, he really did, but he just couldn't. They... They had to go get Roman. They had to make sure he was ok. That was their top priority.

Why did he even care so much about this kid? He barely knew him. Why was he more worried than Patton, Roman's actual boyfriend? Surely Patton should be freaking out the most right now, but no. Virgil, this idiot, was almost on the verge of a panic attack. This was stupid, he was stupid, this entire situation with Roman was stupid, and it was all his fault for actually caring when nobody else was.

"Virgil, breath," he heard Patton say. "Breath in for four second, hold for seven seconds, breath out for eight seconds."

Virgil attempted to do so. Patton knew what he was talking about. Patton knew exactly how to fix this. Virgil just had to listen, and do what he was told. Everything would be fine.

Nothing would be fine! Not when Roman was in danger.

"Roman isn't in danger," Patton promised. That was exactly what Virgil needed to hear - it was almost as if Patton could read his thoughts. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "We can get him out, ok?"

There was a few minutes of silence. Virgil's heart had slowed back down to a semi-normal pace. His mind was no longer screaming a thousand different things. A tiny sense of logic had come back. Roman was at home, right? So there was nothing to be afraid of. They knew exactly where Roman was, and it shouldn't be too hard to get him back. Roman would be fine.

"What ha-" Virgil stopped, a lump forming in his throat. He still couldn't speak. He suddenly became aware of the tears staining his face. That was gonna smudge his make-up. Great.

"Sit down," Patton requested.

Virgil did so. Soon after, Patton and Logan said down with him, the group sitting in a triangle.

"Patton," Logan began, speaking for the first time in what seemed like forever, "do you mind telling us what has happened with Roman?"

"He..." Patton sighed. "It was my fault, really. I stayed with him last night, 'cause his guardians were out and stuff. We weren't expecting them to be back in the morning, but there they were. They, uh, found out about me and Roman, and... they weren't impressed, to say the least."

"Did they not know-"

Patton shook his head. "Roman knew that they would kick him out if he told them. I don't know what will happen now that they do know."

"We..." Virgil took a deep breath. He had calmed down enough to speak, he thought. His voice was still quiet, though. "We need... to get him."

"I agree with Virgil," Logan stated. "Even though I haven't seen him in years, I can't help but worry after hearing that story. One of us should at least visit his house to see if he is alright."

"Well, I can't go," Patton said.

Logan nodded. "That is understandable. However, I believe that I am also not the right person to go. He probably doesn't even remember me. Besides, he never particularly... We never really liked each other. I don't think."

Patton gasped. "You didn't like each other?"

"We did," Logan replied, completely contradicting himself. "However, there was always tension between us, considering your relationship with him and your friendship with me."

"I... I mean, I guess that makes sense..."

"Whatever the case, I think that Roman would be too surprised upon seeing me. Meaning-"

"I'll go," Virgil said, knowing that that is what it would come too.

Patton turned his head towards him, looking him straight in the eye. "Are you sure, Virgil? I wouldn't want you doing anything that you're uncomfortable with."

Virgil nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. I feel more uncomfortable leaving Roman there."

He smiled. "Ok. I'll come with you, though."

"As will I," Logan added. "Patton and I could wait a couple streets away, at least. Or even just outside the house, in case of emergencies."

Virgil stood up, and turned around, starting to walk away from their tree. He couldn't wait any longer.

He heard Logan call his name. "Where are going?"

Virgil's head shot around. "I'm going to get Roman. Like we planned."

"We still have the rest of the school day," Logan reminded him.

"And? This is more important!"

"Nothing is more important than a person's education, Virgil." He pushed his glasses up his nose. Virgil couldn't tell whether that was intentional or not.

"Does it look like I care?" Virgil shook his head, turning away. "I'm not gonna be able to concentrate knowing Roman could be in danger. I'm going now."

He walked away, leaving the other two behind.

Virgil paused outside of the gate to the Prince family mansion. He took out a wipe, and washed of his eyeshadow - half because it was ruined at this point, and half because he was afraid of what Roman's guardians would think of it. Although, he did keep on his foundation. There was no way he was going to get rid of that. No matter what these assholes thought about it. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually about to do this. He was going to knock on the door, which would most likely be answered by a stranger, and then ask about Roman, and said stranger would most likely respond in the negative. Because why would they let Roman go if they were the people who trapped him in the first place?

This was a terrible idea. Why had Virgil ever thought that this could work.

A hand landed on his shoulder. He jumped forward, and turned around, clenching his fist just in case.

"Virgil." It was Patton.

Virgil sighed. "Patton." He gave him a nod in greeting.

"Logan stayed at school," Patton explained, "but I figured that somebody should come with you. Logan said that he'd tell the teachers that we went home sick."

"But, we didn't-"

"You had a panic attack," Patton stated.

"Ugh." Virgil groaned. "Please... don't talk about that."

Patton nodded. "Ok. But even so, we couldn't just leave without an excuse. Logan promised he'd sort it out."

Virgil smiled slightly, before turning back to the gate. He took a deep breath. Was he actually going to do this? He didn't really have a choice. Besides, he had come this far.

"Wish me luck," he whispered, before walking through the gates and down the driveway. He didn't stop to look around until he reached the door - he just kept walking at the same pace, head straight forward.

Once he reached the front door, Virgil paused, again. His finger hovered over the doorbell. His hand was shaking. What was he even going to say? Hey, you kidnapped my friend's boyfriend, please let him go. No. That was stupid. He was stupid, stupid Virgil, what was he think-

The door opened. For a moment, he forgot how to breath. An older woman was standing in the doorway, looking annoyed and... almost angry. Virgil took a step backwards.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" the woman said, impatiently.

"I-I-" Virgil took a deep breath, regaining his ability to absorb and let out air like a normal person. "I'm Virgil. Virgil Andrews."

"And you are here, because?"

He bit his lip. "Um, does... does Roman Prince live here?"

"I know no such person," the woman said, her face completely deadpanned.

"B-But, I-"

"Virgil?" Virgil looked up, seeing a person appear behind the woman. Roman. He smiled. "Virgil, you're here."

The woman shot around, glaring at Roman. "Go back to your room! You heard what your uncle told you!"

"Yeah, well, he's not here right now."

"Roman!"

"I'm going with Virgil," Roman stated.

The woman - presumably Roman's aunt, Virgil had come to believe - gasped in surprise. "What has gotten into you, Roman? First that... that boy, and now just leaving whenever you please? This is not how we raised you."

"I never asked to be raised by you," Roman retorted, "and I'm not moving until I can go with Virgil. This is important, Aunt."

"Who even is this... Virgil kid?" his aunt asked.

"He's my tutor," Roman lied, convincingly. Virgil could see what he was doing - they needed an excuse to get out of there. An excuse that preferably did not include anything about Patton, or the band.

His aunt hummed in thought.

"Please," Roman begged, "let me go with him."

She turned to Virgil. "And where exactly shall you be taking him?"

"Oh, well, uh-" Oh God why did she ask that why would I know what do I do-

His phone buzzed. Muttering a slight apology to Roman's aunt, Virgil took out his phone, and turned around, his eyes glancing over the message. It was from Logan. He sighed in relief - that was his chance to name a place.

"Berry Café," Virgil replied. "The other member of our... uh, our study group, just arrived there." He hoped that she brought it.

"And this other member is?"

"Logan Berry," Virgil quickly said. "His parents own the café."

Roman's aunt sighed. "Fine. Roman, I'll be there to collect you at eight. I'll also provide transport to take Virgil home. Don't do anything stupid. And don't meet up with that... boy."

"Yes, Aunt. Thank you." She left him pass, and the two boys walked down the driveway, away from the house. Straight towards Patton, the very boy that they had been told to avoid.

#the same four notes #sanders sides #thomas sanders #my fanfic #my writing

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