#and tills toe curl underwater when they kiss

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Dappled Play

Summary- 1.6k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. You are currently sunbathing on the back deck when Steve comes looking for you. Warnings- some suggestive hints. 

A/N- This is really just nothing but fluff for the Shifters. I have been working on some heavy dark stuff and needed just something more upbeat to focus on today. So this is really just in the moment writing, nothing has been picked over and edited. Much Love Always! Happy Howling! 🐺💙

The Pack Masterlist

Sunlight dappled through the trees surrounding the back deck, sparse brilliant bits of light painted across your skin as you lounged in one of the alpine deck chairs Steve had scattered around. Your feet were kicked back onto the railing, freshly painted toes wiggling to dry while you had your head tilted back and eyes closed, letting your senses drift from right where you were. 

The fresh water of the lake smelled tempting, the water lapping on the rocky shore and against the dock was calling your name as the day warmed. On another beach you could hear the laughter of other pack mates playing with one another, the occasional splash as someone jumped into the cool depths from the rope swing someone risked installing. On your own deck was a multitude of visitors scurrying back and forth, taking advantage of the spread of seeds you scattered along the railing this morning. 

Chatter from above let you know your squirrel was at war with the chipmunks right now for the seed you had scattered around. Occasional flutter of wings let you know one of your songbirds had come out of hiding. When you peered over your sunglasses to see, a multitude of evening grosbeaks, nuthatches and purple finches were scattered across your deck. On the railing by your feet a Blue Jay wandered closer, cocking his head in interest at your wiggling baby blue toes. 

“Try it mister and you will be a snack.” You growled softly and kicked out your foot enough to send him fluttering away with a squawk of disgust at you ruining his fun. From behind you, you heard a deep chuckle and a tilt of your head showed Steve leaning in the doorway leading to the bedroom, wiping his hands dry off on a hand towel, bits of water still caught in his beard and ran down his bare chest from where he had just gotten changed and cleaned up. You could tell just looking at him that he had been in the garage, the scent of oil and metal mixing with his natural scent. It made you inhale sharply, the Little Wolf sniggering in the depths of your mind. 

<Damn distracting isn’t he.>

Always... 

<Don’t worry, you are just as distracting to him.>

That’s the plan.

“If you want, I will fight that jay off for you, just to preserve your honor Little One.” Steve stepped out onto the deck, leaning over to press a affectionate kiss on your lips, his warm palm sliding along the curve of your neck and tracing your bonding mark. “But you really seem to have it handled.” 

“Well he might come back.” You lift your sunglasses off and set them aside while Steve went to sit in a neighboring chair. “If he does, I will call you, right away.” Your Alpha rumbled from his chest in approval and you grinned at the praise. “Already done for the day?” 

Steve let his gaze fall from you, head tilted back into the bit of sun streaming to cut through the shade. “Time for a break. Sam was starting to get on my nerves talking numbers and that truck isn't going anywhere while we have the engine ripped out of it.” He inhaled deeply, letting the stress of the situation start to melt away. His mothers sentiments dancing on the tip of his tongue before repeating “When the world knocks you down, you get back up... this is nothing but a thing to deal with and I told Sam to quit worrying about it, we will figure it out. We always do.” 

You uncurled from your chair and approached Steve, your fingers curling through his longer locks, the sun had started to lighten them back up into that golden color you remember from the day you first saw him. His arm loped around your hips to tug you into his hold, making you straddle his lap so you could drape your arms over his shoulders. “Sounds like he needs to take a page from your book Alpha.” placing a teasing nip at his lips, he tightened his arm around your waist and flushed you in against him, sliding his palms to grip your ass, flexing his hand to grasp a handful of your cheeks. 

“He should, why I shut the garage down, for a few hours at least. Besides, I had to come see my best girl, maybe cool off a bit.” His eyes started to grow mischievous, looking you up and down, you could see he was already eyeing the loose tank top you had on and the shorts, contemplating what was underneath them. 

“Don’t you dare rip these off Steven, they are my favorite outfit.” You growled out as he plucked at your shirt to look down it, his grin going boyish as he rucked it up over your head. “I promise not to destroy the tank top. But nothing else.” He moved to a stand, hauling you over his shoulder with a loud yelp from you, your hands making a grab at his belt while he started down the wooden stairs towards the deck. 

“Whoa Alpha, what are you doing?” You bounce with each bopping down step he takes, one arm wrapped around the back of your thighs, the other feeling at your pockets to dig out your phone and stuff it in his own pocket. 

“Going for a swim. It’s hot out, wouldn't you agree?” he gave an appreciative squeeze to a jean clad ass cheek and you wriggled on his shoulder while you swayed over his shoulder. 

“Well... my current view is pretty hot.” clasping your hands on the firmest ass you have ever touched, you felt him flex under your hands. That’s when you felt a set of teeth sink into your jeans, making him growl at you. “Did you just bite my ass?” 

“It was to tempting to pass up.” He informed you while walking closer to your destination, you started pushing against his back to have him put you down. “Oh no baby, were doing this the right way.” 

“Steven Grant Rogers don’t you dare.” You warned him, but his hold was tight and there was no way you were wriggling from out of it. “Don’t you throw me into that lake.” You could hear the Little Wolf’s laughter at your predicament, as well as feel the Alpha joining in on the fun, Steve’s playful nature simmering between you two. You knew his intentions, just as much as he knew you wouldn’t be mad if he did. 

In fact, pressing up against Steve had heated you up, he was a sweltering man on a normal day, his heat radiating from him. Now you were plastered to his back and were ready for the cool rush of water. But he couldn’t “know” that, and you pretended to fight him with teasing tickling fingers up his lower back and smacks against that finest ass you have ever seen. “No sex for you if you do!” 

“Now that, I’m calling bullshit on Little One.” He barked a laugh and then he swung you around into his arms and gave a gentle toss, sending you flying through the air, squealing till you landed in the water. With a twist underwater, your toes pressed to the bottom, silt and stones rolling under the balls of your feet as you shot back to the surface. Catching sight of his pants coming off and boxer clad Steve soared over you to disappear in a giant splash, making you roll back towards the dock where you could grasp onto the edge, watching for where he might pop up. 

You feel him first on your ankle, his fingers dancing up the side of your leg and looking down to see Steve start coming up, his head and shoulders breaking the waters surface while he wrapped his arms around you, knocking you off balance enough to circle your legs around his waist and grab onto his shoulders.  He whipped his head a bit to clear of the water, leaving you laughing and sputtering at the water. “You are getting me wet?” 

“Wetter then you already are?” He wiggled his brows at you, setting off a flare of heat spiraling through you. 

“You seem to have that effect on me? I don’t know why though.” You pop a shrug of your shoulder, making Steve snort in his own laugh, pulling away from the dock so the two of you could float away from the shoreline. 

“I keep putting it on my charming personality.” Pressing kisses of heat to your skin, chasing away the water droplets. This was what you loved about Steve, he was just so easy to be with. 

To be yourself. 

Your Alpha wanted you to challenge him, play, love, feel. You were still learning what that meant, to be genuine. To say that first thing that popped in your mind without repercussions. Never had you gotten to be free in such a way. You nudged at him, brushing your nose against his, whispering against his mouth. “I’m going with its all the good looks.” Challenging as you arched into him, pressing a firm kiss to him. 

Steve took it further, dart of his tongue pressing against your mouth and you so willingly accepted him. His hands came to cup your face, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you two sunk into it, dipping back under the water for a moment before he kicked at his legs and sent the two of you back to the surface. You gave another nudge of your nose against his before unwrapping from around him and pushing off, the white strap of your bra and baby blue denim cutoffs blaring against the dark water. You swirled in the water, shooting water at him from between your teeth to squirt in his face. 

Steve growled and lunged forward to catch you, the two of you splashing back and forth, trying to keep away from him, darting away with squeals of laughter and cries of alarm. His laughter was booming across the lakes surface, clearly enjoying himself in the moment. 

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[slightlymore]

Pride | Part 7

Pairing: Doyoung, Y/N, new character, Johnny cameo Genre: Series | Smut | Angst | Crack | Fluff Warnings: as usual, language, little hand cut, same issues around mental health and unhealthy coping mechanisms, angsty, smutty scenario Words: 5.8K

Just one part to go peeps, Part 8 is going to be the last whoop whoop (I can create conflict and drama every chapter but after a while it’s kinda boring, so let’s end it soon lmao) 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |  Part 8 THE END

The rain was pouring heavily on the roof as if a thousand fingers were tapping on it. You could see it slide down the little cabin’s windows, dragging down tree branches, frightening and beautiful at the same time. It was a cold night but you were feeling so cozy, skin bathed in the yellow hue of the fireplace. 

It was loud and scary outside, but you couldn't hear it. Not really. Your mind was foggy and occupied with so many things. It was difficult to express what those things were. But you knew what they formed altogether. Pleasure. 

Intense, breathtaking pleasure, traveling from the tip of your curled toes, up to your knees, bringing lust and passion all the way to your head, as a slow caress. 

The culprit was Doyoung. Or better, Doyoung’s tongue, while he was holding your thighs so tightly that you were seeing the bruises underneath his fingers. You wanted to see his eyes as well, you wanted to bath in that darkness full of desire, but they were closed. His eyebrows were furrowed as if concentrating and you ruffled the hair on his forehead, to drink in his every expression. When he let go of your clit, a little string of saliva connecting it to his tongue, you whined and arched your back, showing him everything that you wanted. His eyes pierced finally through yours and he smiled. Then those lips, still curved up teasingly, kissed your stomach, painfully slow, rising in a single line, going between your breasts, on your collar bones, on your neck and chin. He brought his hand up to cup your cheeks and rubbed your lower lip with his thumb. You opened your mouth, ready to fall into him, but a little sparkle at the corner of your eye got your attention elsewhere. Looking at his hand you felt your head a little less foggy. You blinked as if hallucinating. Was that a ring? He had no rings, you were sure about it. Why was a ring adorning his finger, but also, why was that fact making you feel so confused and uneasy? "Where did you get that from?", you asked grabbing his hand and analyzing the piece of jewelry. Doyoung looked at the ring first, then at your face with a chuckle. "What are you talking about?", he asked as well. "This is a wedding ring", you explained. Doyoung grinned. "Yes, I can't believe this either, my love". An unpleasant shiver caressed your spine and you already knew before looking. You could feel it. It was cold and secure around your finger as well. Near the other one, with a big stone on it. Your engagement and marriage rings. You gasped as if falling underwater. The corners of your vision started to get dark as blurry stains made it difficult to see. No, no, no, no. You swallowed. The air from your lungs disappeared and even if you tried hard to breathe, nothing came in as your focus shifted. Doyoung wasn’t on top of you anymore. You looked at him and his fiancé from above, the way her hand caressed his back, listening to their whispers and you found yourself panting. Again. No, please, no, stop. Let me alone. Please. I don’t want this. I don’t want it. Your legs kicked the covers and you sat up, hands restless, chin trembling and communicating that you were about to cry. Again. From a stupid dream haunting your nights. _____

You were the first thought that would wake Doyoung up in the morning. The last desire that lulled him to sleep at night. And in that split uncountable moment between consciousness and unconsciousness, he let himself flow. He promised to do it only in those circumstances when his rational side couldn't hold him in his grip. Even if lately he felt himself slowly slipping its hold every second more. Dreaming is only causing you pain, the Rational side would say. Not doing it is going to cause pain anyways, Doyoung would reply. Yes, but the first type of pain is going to end soon, it insisted. How do you know that? Doyoung would ask. I just know, it would get irritated. What if I don't care? Doyoung would inquire again. The Rational side wouldn’t reply as if tired to argue yet again.   What if I don't care about anything? Legit nothing in life matters. What if I just do whatever the fuck I want? Future me doesn't exist, does it? Only I do, right now. And right now I just want to fucking dream, alright? The Rational side was judging silently while Doyoung would get worked up by himself, in a pathetic fight. Let me, please, please, just let me dream for a second more. I beg of you. Okay? I beg. Just one second. Then I’ll stop. I promise. Just this time. Please. Please. Please. Doyoung would mumble to himself until finally forced to open his eyes and stare soullessly at the first rays of sun entering his room. Breathless. Ashamed. Defeated. Time’s up. No more dreaming, the Rational side’s little voice would wake up as well. ________ Jealousy was something you didn't want to think about. When Johnny was seeing other people, it felt like a sting in the heart, a little oh forming on your lips. You've made an effort to not let it be a selfish sentiment. I'm not a jealous person, you would say with a proud smile. But the truth was that you were. And after waking up, drenched in your own sweat after being so sure that your dreams were a reality before they could become nightmares, and even worse, fantasy, your chest would boil in pain. In pain and rage. You were so angry. You were so jealous. It was no more a sting, or a little oh, it was a hit in the stomach and a soundless scream. You would walk around to class, taking your exams, eating, talking, and laughing with your friends, but never alone, always with this ugly feeling on your shoulders. You felt jealous, possessive, selfish, hateful. You would alternate thoughts of I have to stop, I can’t change it, I can't be a bad person, with I'm a bad person, so what, I am like that, I feel that, that’s me, until feeling like you were driving yourself into madness. When you shook your rector’s hand, while the other was holding your degree, a few months had already passed after seeing Doyoung’s face for the last time. It felt like decades and a few days at the same time. “This is a new beginning, huh?”, Johnny’s face light up in a bright smile. You looked up at him and a soft fuzzy feeling flooded your chest. If Doyoung’s experience was helpful in some ways, one of it was the fact that you finally sorted out your feelings for your best friend. And he did as well, you could see it in the way his eyes looked free and calm, in the way his voice called your name, in the way he felt sorry for you after you told him everything that happened with Doyoung. It took you both some time, but you did it, and you started to breathe more easily after you saw Johnny’s understanding eyes instead of his previous jealous ones. He also realized that your romantic relationship wasn’t a healthy one and he felt better about himself for a long while giving the fault of your fights to Doyoung, when in reality, deep down, he knew you would have behaved like that towards each other anyways. Smiling back at him, you both linked arms and walked away to where your seats were. “I have good news”, you interrupted the silence, whispering to his ear after you sat down. “You know that company you said were hiring?”, you asked, building tension but unable to hide your smile. Johnny looked down at you with wide eyes. A few days before graduation, Johnny came up to you with the most euphoric expression. “Y/N, please apply to this job”, he slammed a piece of printed paper on your desk. You looked at it, confused, then up at him. “Why?”, you asked. Johnny breathed in as if preparing for the longest monologue of his life. “You must”, he just said though. He was so on the edge, sprinkling happiness like a child, that you found yourself chuckling. “Why don’t you apply to it? We’re graduating the same day. You also need a job”, you commented. Johnny crossed his arms on his chest. “You know I want to take a year off and travel the world. I won’t sit my ass in an office chair from 9 till 5, thank you very much. But you,” he shoved his finger into your face, “you love that kind of job, and this,” he slammed the paper again making you jolt, “it’s the perfect opportunity for you. Trust me. You’ll see. You’ll thank me”, he finished. You laughed and shrugged putting the paper inside your books. “Wait, they accepted you?”, now Johnny asked loudly, several heads in the graduation hall turning to hush you. You waved your hand in front of him as to indicate to keep his voice down. But then you nodded while a little smile forming on your lips. “Fuck!”, Johnny exclaimed. “I am- fuck!”, he just cursed again and hug you tightly. _______ Doyoung never realized it before how you were the reason for his every gesture. Not until you weren't there to hold him up anymore. He wasn't as melodramatic as to say that what he did now was pointless, but it had no real meaning either. Like it didn't have before meeting you. He was getting overwhelmed by everything now, he had no patience, every sound and image and person were unbearable. His thoughts were out of control. “You’re under great stress right now, Doyoung”. Doyoung sighed. Yeah, I know, old man. "It's just", he finally spoke slowly, staring out of that window yet again, "I'm always waiting for something", he added, trying hard to explain his thoughts. The therapist nodded. "It's always-", Doyoung paused again, recollecting himself, "-I always think like, it's going to be over soon, just a little bit. I’m assuring myself that this won’t last long, that it’s going to end. While my hands are itching and I can’t stay still. I am waiting and waiting and looking around for something. But what am I waiting for? Death?", he chuckled bitterly. The man in front of him shook his head with a sigh. He put his notes down and rested his elbows on his knees, eyes piercing over the eyeglasses frames. "The answer is - life, Doyoung”. Doyoung jerked his head towards the man as if someone punched him in the face. “You're not waiting for things to be over. You're waiting for things to start". ________ Your limbs were shaking and your throat was completely closed off not letting you even to swallow, as you clasped your hands together, playing with your fingernails. You had to explain to the guards why you had no pass to enter the building yet, then to explain what were you doing there, then you had to wait for a young girl, the HR director’s secretary, to take you to her boss - a woman with a dry smile on her face. “You have arrived at the right moment”, the young secretary smiled at you kindly while taking you through the company corridors, giving you a short tour. The place wasn’t just big. It was humongous. You were in the marketing wing at that moment, with an open mouth, in shock while passing near the windows seeing how tall the building actually was, while the secretary was about to tell you at which desk you will be spending the next few years of your life. This, if they don’t fire you sooner. “Really? What does that mean?”, you asked politely, entering the office. A few people raised their eyes from the computer, most didn’t, some of them were discussing between themselves, some of them were yelling into their phones before slamming it on the desk. Great, you sighed. Looks inviting.  “Tonight there’s a company party. It’s going to be a great occasion to get to know your colleagues. When there are alcohol and music, they all loosen up a lot”, she winked at you as if telling a secret. You smiled back grateful for her being the first person you had the pleasure to meet and not some random rude one. Then you sat down after she introduced you to the department manager, who promptly left you alone talking about being very busy in the same second the secretary left as well.  The evening approached fast as you spent the whole day trying to understand how the phone line worked, how to use the computer efficiently, what your first tasks were. You had to learn most of those things alone as the people you had to shadow were “too busy to babysit someone right now”. You sighed. You kinda knew it was going to be like this so you weren’t that surprised. Getting into such a big company right after graduating university was a big deal and you weren’t about to whine but you still hoped that after that night you’d have at least one new friend. At least someone to talk to you and that would want to answer your questions.  It took you a lot of effort to go back to your new small apartment after the exhausting day, to shower, to try to find something appropriate to wear to a party, but a classy one, but still, a party, to put on makeup again, to do your hair, then to come back to the company building, all before 9 pm. When you got out of the taxi, you were already sweating, heels pierced by the high heels, spirit crushed and mind absolutely ready to go to bed already. You didn’t really like parties in the first place, even during your university days, but you still had the energy to dance at least until 4 am and get completely hammered when in the mood. It definitely wasn’t the case anymore. Entering the hall you stopped to breathe in and out and just awkwardly looked around. All types of people were standing in small groups, smiling fakely, and chatting about boring stuff, probably work. Your outfit wasn’t too off, thankfully and you felt lowkey grateful that no one gave you any attention. You were the type of person to want to socialize but at your terms and being shoved in the middle of a group full of strangers didn’t sound very appealing at that moment. For how intimidating, it was still a pretty gathering. The high windows were letting people admire the little city lights against the dark night. Some waiters were walking around with tall glasses of champagne and finger food. It was alright, you reassured yourself. You could do it. Come on. You closed your eyes as if gathering courage, still standing in the frame of the tall door, and opening them again after a moment you made the first step inside. A waiter walked right in front of you so you awkwardly grabbed a glass to look occupied while strolling the place alone. Your feet took you towards the windows. Sipping on a drink and looking at the night view? Great plan when you have no idea what to do to yourself. So, you picked up the pace, as if physically needing to get to those windows as soon as possible. But you probably shouldn’t have as you suddenly felt a cold liquid all over your chest followed by a deep swear. “I apologize. I didn’t see you coming-”, the man spoke but soon his voice flattered, becoming a tiny sound then nothingness. You blinked a few times looking down your dripping dress, then at the hand holding the glass that just got the champagne all over you, then up at the man’s face. Two fiery eyes were wide enough for you to see yourself in them. "What are you doing here?", Doyoung asked with a breathy voice. You had no idea what a heart attack felt like but somehow, in that exact moment, you thought that you probably were about to die. Yes, definitely. This feels like dying. Your muscles were like paralyzed and your fingers couldn’t keep the grip around your glass anymore, letting it fall, making you close your eyes when it shattered all over the floor. Angry heys surrounded you as some fragments probably went flying to their faces but they sounded so far away. You weren’t able to understand anything that was happening so you just looked at the man in front of you moving in slow-motion. "I got this", his lips formed to someone, probably a waiter, while he knel. You imitated him, crouching down like an automaton, your limbs moving without your brain telling them what to do. Doyoung carefully gathered all the biggest pieces of glass and for some reason grabbed your hand afterward, calling you stupid all of a sudden.  "What?", you asked with a tiny voice, looking down. The party sounds started to return slowly, infiltrating in your brain and shaking your nerves just like the sting on your finger. "It's alright", you said, putting it inside your mouth and sucking on it. "It's just a little cut". Doyoung didn't comment on that and you knew that you probably could have understood what he was thinking by looking at his eyes, but you were too much of a coward to look up. He was still holding your wrist and all your brain cells were concentrated on that spot, trying to memorize the way his cool skin felt on yours. God, you missed it, you missed it so much that you were about to let yourself fall in an agonizing cry. Then you realized what you were doing and felt like running away. You can’t. Don’t feel. No. Stop. "Come", he spoke suddenly leaving all the mess behind and you couldn’t do anything else but to let yourself be dragged like a lifeless puppet. You looked at his back as he was walking in front of you, then at his styled black hair, you listened to the sound his dress shoes made on the marbled floor, then he let your hand go entering a small room. "There should be something here…", he mumbled by himself, opening and closing all the cabinets in the bathroom. It was a pretty one, not like the public ones on your floor. It looked luxurious and almost intimate as if it was private. Doyoung was standing in front of the sink, eyebrows furrowed as if trying to see better. You were left in the frame of the door, holding your wrist, finger raised up, weight shifting from one foot to another. The déjà-vu was so strong to leave you breathless. You wondered if Doyoung remembered as well. Or if he cared at all. You couldn't stop yourself from letting your eyes fall to his hands, afraid, trying to see the ring. God, oh God. No, please, no.  You felt all your blood abandon your brain. You felt like falling. It was there, shiny, adorning his pretty hands. So he did it. He actually did it. So quickly? It felt like years but only months passed from the last time you saw him. How was that possible? Wasn’t that a dream? You couldn’t believe it was actually reality. His number has been on your phone screen multiple times a day for the past months, fingers hovering over it, to call or not to call, to text or not to text. Then his voice had bounced on the walls of your mind every time. Let me go. Let me go. If you’re not giving anything to me, just let me go. Then his last kiss had ghosted your lips as if he had just kissed you one minute before that, and you would have gently caressed the thin skin with your fingertips. Was it your fault? Should you have just called, just once? Would that have helped you, him, both of you? Or did you do the right choice? Not contacting him at all, leaving him, letting him go? God. After all of this time. Your breath was still going missing. "Here". he turned around and getting closer, he handed you the wet cotton. You stared at it as if not understanding what he was saying. Right. It’s not like he was about to hold your hand again, taking care of you, making the scenario intimate, medicating the cut for you. This was no Tumblr fanfiction. This was reality. You took it with a trembling hand and placed it on your finger. It burnt like hell but the pain somehow helped you feel better. "I'm sorry", Doyoung then said. You looked up. "For spilling my drink on you", he explained quickly. You nodded. "It's alright", you answered with a tiny voice. And just when you thought that he would go away and leave you there just the way he did months ago, he spoke again. "There's no Johnny to lend us clothes this time, huh?", he joked with an uneasy little smile.  His eyes were curved in a warm half moon and you thought you could drown in that sweetness. "Yeah", you managed to say after a moment of silence, a little smile intruding on your lips as well. He remembered. He was thinking about the same thing. Your knees were feeling even weaker than before. Then you both bounced on the silence wall between you. "Why are you here?", he finally spoke after a little while, finally about what you both were dying to talk about. His voice was cautious and polite while you put a bandaid on your cut. He looked like speaking to a scared kitty and you were feeling like one indeed. “What are you doing here?”, you asked but as the words left your mouth you already knew. That was his company. Of course. You felt so stupid. You closed your eyes. Dammit, Johnny Suh. Doyoung sighed silently, as if a little uncomfortable, noticing how you knew the answer to that already. You suddenly panicked, realizing how that looked like to his eyes.  “No! I am not here because of you!”, you spluttered out quickly, feeling your eyes widen. “I didn’t know this was your father’s company. I really just thought about it. I had no idea. I swear-”, but he interrupted you by placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, hey, Y/N”, he spoke softly, “it’s alright”. You shook your head. “But it’s true. I don’t want you to think that I am here…” you added but drifting off, unsure what words to use. Doyoung let his arms fall slowly. “It’s fine. I believe you”, he assured you. “There’s no need to explain yourself”. You sighed, still frustrated but didn’t add anything else, not wanting to embarrass yourself even further. “Are you alone?”, he looked behind you as if expecting to see someone. “N-no”, you shook your head. “I am- with a man”. The last word sounding way too high to be considered normal conversational pitch. Doyoung looked down at you again, not saying anything for a few instances. “Let me take you to him, then”, he simply said and walked out of the bathroom. “Doyoung!”, you called before realizing how much you’ve missed having his name roll on your tongue. “Please, don’t bother. It’s alright”, you added when reaching him. He stopped, waiting for you to catch up. “I insist”, he replied sternly. “This is the least I can do to make it up to you for destroying your dress”. You knew how stubborn he could get and if you weren’t feeling so many different things altogether, you would have rolled your eyes at him. You sighed and followed him. Entering the hall again, you gulped and lifted yourself on the tiptoes, staring around the room as if effectively looking for your man. “Uhm-”, you murmured unsurely. Doyoung crossed his arms on his chest and looked around as well. “Uh…”, you were about to get a panic attack. What should you do? Be honest? Yes, be honest then go outside and dig a fucking hole to bury yourself in, you fucking loser. What were you thinking? Why was it necessary to tell him that you were over him? Why was it necessary to invent a stupid ass story? “There!”, you exclaimed after a minute and just walked hurriedly towards a random guy, praying that he would play along. Please, please, please. Doyoung followed you and as you reached the man’s shoulders you just slid your arm underneath his. The man turned around, reasonably surprised, and just looked at your wide eyes, telling him to just shut up and do what you were about to tell him to do. “I’m sorry for being away for so long. What a bad date I am, right?”, then you opened your mouth in a sequence of loud “ha ha ha”, making the guy feel even more uncomfortable. He furrowed his eyebrows at your almost desperate expression, not missing the way you were tilting your head towards Doyoung, standing with hands in his pockets behind you. “Oh”, the guy finally said as if finally understating. Then his eyes light up amused and he tugged at your arm, making you come closer. “It’s alright, darling. I hope you’re fine?”, he put on a worried expression eyeing your bandaged finger and holding your hand to look at it closely.   You looked at him, surprised that he was able to catch up on that so effortlessly but pleased at the same time. Thank God. “It’s just a little cut. I dropped my glass”, you explained and inhaled sharply as the guy brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. It was so sudden that you definitely felt your heart flutter. “To make the boo-boo go away faster”, the guy explained as if obvious. Doyoung was still standing there like a big and dark shadow, so you turned around to face him when he cleared his throat. “Oh, Doyoung, hi, didn’t see you there”, the guy looked up as if suddenly aware of the other’s presence. “Yeah, sure. Then I’ll be going now. Take care”, Doyoung spoke directing the last phrases to you. “Wait, you guys know each other?”, you asked surprised, staring at one first then at the other. You were already preparing yourself for the embarrassing moment of having to introduce them to each other, not knowing what to say about Doyoung and not even knowing the guy’s name. The fact that you didn’t have to do that made the air feel slightly easier to breathe in but at the same time, a weird shiver of worry caressed your spine. The guy, indeed, pressed his hand on the small of your waist as a warning. You looked at him and saw the way he smiled, showing all of his teeth, speaking through them. “This is a company party, darling. We all work together. Did you forget?”, he asked with a tight smile. You swallowed nothing feeling your throat suddenly dry. “Oh yeah, haha, wow, I must be very tired”, you chuckled bringing one hand to your head as if suddenly exhausted. “Haha indeed”, the guy replied with a big smile but it was almost obvious that it was fake.  Doyoung looked at both of you, unamused as if watching a terrible play. You were about to say something else since the embarrassment was crawling on your skin, but you didn’t need to as Doyoung spared you of further awkwardness. “See you on Monday then, and please, for the love of God, help me finish that assignment, alright?”, he spoke. The guy put his hand on his hip with a daring face. “I’m too good to be your helper”, he smiled. You gasped. That guy was speaking like that to the CEO himself? Was he doing that to help you out? You tugged at his hand trying to tell him to stop, that there was no need for him to act like that. But Doyoung just sighed as if already used to that behavior and rolling his eyes he just walked away. You couldn’t help but look at his back and legs as they were drifting away every step more, as if praying for him to not go, not again. “What are you doing?”, you finally whispered concerned to the guy after taking your eyes off Doyoung. “Are you insane?” The guy looked at you as if you were the insane one between the two. And maybe he was right. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to fire you?”, you asked again, explaining your shock. The guy furrowed his eyebrows at you as if not understanding, then he laughed. “Who? Doyoung?”, he laughed even harder. You looked at him confused. “He’s the CEO of this company. What are you laughing about?”, you were getting a little irritated. The guy swiped an imaginary tear out of his eye. “That loser wishes to be the CEO”, he commented. “What are you talking about?”. You felt your head hurting. He breathed in and out, suddenly bored, looking at you from head to toe, as if finally asking himself what the fuck do you want from him. “Who are you anyway?”, he asked. You puffed your cheeks. ���Later! What do you mean he’s not the CEO?”, you asked urgently. “I mean”, he started, finally sliding his arm away from yours, “that he’s not the fucking CEO”, he finished. “We’re just co-workers. We work in the same department”. You unfocused your gaze as if thinking about what he has just said. The guy shook his head as if dealing with a weirdo and grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “I just don’t understand”, you finally spoke again. The guy didn’t reply and just drank, but his face was screaming “because you’re fucking stupid”. Then you tugged at his arm, making him lean down towards you, closer to your face, and whispered to his ear. “He is the former CEO's son”, you shared the secret, wondering if Doyoung was working in a lower position to hide his origins. The guy listened with wide eyes then looked at you and gasped when you finished. “No. fucking. way”, he articulated theatrically.   “Hey”, he then stopped a random dude by slapping the back of his hand on his chest. “Did you know that Kim Doyoung from the IT department is - the CEO's son?”, he asked. You jolted and squeezed his arm as to stop him from talking. What the fuck was he doing? But the dude looked at him with no particular reaction besides pure confusion. “Yeah?”. The guy turned around to you with a fake surprised face. “Oh no! Did you hear that? Everyone knows!”, he exclaimed putting his hand on his cheek.  You stared at him for a few seconds, breathing in slowly, then you just hit his arm. The guy giggled at your reaction and sprinted one step away. “You’re a fucking asshole”, you accused him. “It’s just”, he laughed, “your face was priceless. You thought you were sharing a top-notch state secret. I can’t believe I’m having so much fun at a company party. I’m glad I came”, he said. You were shocked and angry. How dare this guy to mock you and laugh at you like that? You were already out of your own fucking mind because it was the first working day of your whole life, you’ve just met Doyoung after being sure to not see him again, you’ve discovered that he is indeed married after struggling with the most excruciating pain for months because of that, you acted in a full-on rom-com just now, and you still had to be the subject of this guy’s jokes? “Well, then why is he working such a low position as you when he can be the CEO?”, you tried to insult him, but the guy looked unbothered. “What is this? A Korean drama?”, he chuckled. “He can’t just climb the ladder with blood alone. He has to work his ass off just like everybody else. From the bottom”. You really had no idea what to do with all of the information roaming your head. What the fuck was that? Did he marry a random girl just to have a normal position in his own company? Did he sacrifice his life for something that anyone could have?  The guy looked at your expressionless face. “What’s up with this situation anyway? Was Doyoung bothering you before?”, he asked suddenly. You jerked your head towards him surprised. “What? No, why would he?”, you shook your head. “I mean, why wouldn’t he?”, the guy replied, staring you down with a little smirk. You rolled your eyes at his flirt.  “Well”, you crossed your arms on your chest, “maybe because he’s married?”, you said confidently and hoped he didn’t see the way your lower lip trembled while saying that. The guy choked on his drink. “He’s married?”, he asked shocked. “You didn’t know?”, you eyed him, secretly pleased that you were one step ahead of him but at the same time worried dead that you’ve just made a huge mistake by saying that. “He also has the ring”. The guy tilted his head to the side as if thinking. “That doesn’t look like a wedding ring to me”, he commented. “Not that I look at men’s hands or anything”, he added quickly, going back to sipping from his glass. “Well, he is married. Trust me. But don’t say that to anyone else”, you spoke, your eyes drifting to where Doyoung was talking to some people. Even from afar, you could see the way his lips curved in a fake smile. You sighed. You couldn’t believe he was there, in the same room, and you talked, and you saw his face again. God. You were feeling so much as so intensely that you were under the impression of not being able to feel anything at all. “Ohhh”, the guy suddenly exclaimed giving you a mild shock for how close and loud he was, “so, he’s your ex-boyfriend. And now you discover that he’s married!”, he added even louder with wide eyes as if finally understating everything. “God, I fucking love this party”, he chuckled to himself. You grabbed a drink as well, finishing it all in one go. “He’s not my ex-boyfriend”, you replied not giving him any other explanations. “And be quiet. Maybe he doesn’t want people to know”. The guy clicked his tongue as if not believing you but not wanting to be seen as rude by asking other questions. He sighed and you sighed as well, both looking at the way people were moving around, forming groups and changing them up, laughing, chatting, having a good time. You felt like they were on another planet, their energy so different from the one you had inside. It was inevitable. You knew it. It was about to come. You would end up crashing down in the taxi going home, or randomly as you were pouring down cereal for breakfast. You were feeling them crawling under your skin, the feelings, but at that moment, you decided to still bath in the bliss all of the shocking experiences gifted you. “Thank you, for, you know, before...”, you added vaguely after a few moments. “No problem. I was getting bored anyway”, he shrugged. “I’m Y/N, by the way”, you extended your hand. He took it. “Nice to meet you”, he smiled. “I’m Haechan”. 

[urlocalkpoptrash]

Breathing Underwater.

Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff.

Warning: It’s hard to place a warning really, it’s just an emotional blurb.

A/N: I had a pretty bad episode last night, and I’m still trying to recover from it. Writing this really helped relieve some of the pressure I felt from last night. I hope you can enjoy this. 💕

Concept: Namjoon, normally a quiet sufferer, can’t handle everything he’s feeling. He needs support, and of course he get all the love and support from y/n.

- - - - - - - - - /

I was never any good at handling the silent treatment, especially an unintentional one. Namjoon had been sitting on the patio for two hours, watching the world around us go through out their day. The sun had began to set, hues of pink, red, and orange crafted the sky into a masterpiece. The warmth of the sun still filling my apartment, the walls painted with a golden shine. I stepped timidly towards the patio, with a cup of tea cradled in my hands. I stopped at the frame, glancing at the back of Joon’s head. I finally stepped over the threshold, bending at the waist to set his tea on the table beside him. He didn’t even flinch, or turn his head to look at me. He was lost in thought, deep in his own pain.

“Joonie,” I dared to speak to him.

Nothing. Not a sigh, a grunt, a whine, absolutely nothing. I couldn’t stand to see him like this. He came home in this state, and out of desperation I had even tried messaging the boys, but as much as they tried, they were no help. I stayed for a moment in the silence, there was no comfort in it like I was used too. The sound of the patio cried beneath the soft pitter pattern of my footsteps. I stopped in front of him, kneeling down. I placed my hands on his knees. I was hoping this would bring him back, even if just for a moment. It didn’t, it felt like it sent him further into himself.

“Oh, Namjoon.” I rested my forehead on his knee, sighing heavily.

“I’ll be inside when you’re ready.”

I place my hands on either side of the chair, using it to support my weight. I push myself up, catching his eyes for a moment. The usual light that fills them is dull, almost nonexistent. It pulls at my heart, causing a small ache to begin. With a swift kiss to his forehead I walk back inside, the carpet mushing between my toes. I waited for as long as I could, but he didn’t seem to move. I kept checking to make sure his chest was moving, because he was so still. I couldn’t bare to watch him suffer, and I knew he hated that I was there to see him like this. I headed to the bedroom, leaving the light off, making my way into the bathroom. The sun was long gone, leaving the house cold. Maybe it wasn’t the sun disappearing that made it cold, maybe it was the heavy cloud that hung over the apartment. I had to shake the thought from my mind, turning to face the shower. My hair fell from over my shoulders, the waterfall of curls bouncing and swaying with each of my motions. I turned on the water, reaching my hand out to test the temperature, it was hot, just how I liked it. It didn’t take long for me to strip down and step into the shower, the ceramic tub warm against my bare feet. I ducked under the water, leaning my head down, letting the water pour over my face for a moment.

I could hear the door open, the pressure of joons touch causing the door to give way, letting out a squeak. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the ground, indicating he was getting it. There was a cool breeze that swept through the shower as he pulled back the curtain. I lifted my head, pushing my hair back before I turned to face him. He stood before me, I gazed up at the porcelain structure that was his body, not a flaw gracing the fabric of his pillow soft skin. We finally made eye contact, I could see the normal white that hugged his coco irises were red. The ache that was in my chest only grew ten fold.

“Oh, baby...” I cooed.

I took a step foreword, bringing him into my arms. Although I was much smaller than him, he sunk into my tight embrace, hiding his pain ridden face in the curve of my neck. I turned us slowly so the water could cover his back. His arms snaked around my waist, pulling me closer as his body began to shake, no longer being able to hold onto the pressure of his sadness. A silent sob racked through his towering form, causing me to hold on tighter, trying to keep him from falling apart more.

But, you see, falling apart doesn’t happen quickly. It’s a slow and agonizing process. It’s like when a rock hits a windshield, the little dent begins to spread. It starts to make it hard to see, and then it completely consumes your focus before finally shattering. He was near the end, the crack had spread into every aspect of his life, and he could no longer focus on anything but the feeling of breaking apart.

“Talk to me, my love, please. Tell me what’s happening,” I speak into his ear, running my fingers over the bumps of his spine, the water making it easy to dance around the curves.

“I can’t do this,” his voice was small, child like.

“Do what, Joon?”

“I keep disappointing the boys. I’m a terrible leader, everyone is falling apart, and I can’t keep them together anymore. I’m failing. I’m a failure.”

I’m a failure.

The words sunk into my veins, causing ice to run through my blood. I couldn’t believe he thought such awful things about himself, when I knew for a fact, just how much the boys truly loved him. They wouldn’t be half the group they were without his guidance.

I bent back in his arms, his head hanging low as it fell from the safety of my neck. I tore my hands away from his skin and placed them on his cheeks, forcing his head up to look at me. His eyes found mine, and all I could see was desperation to find some sort of relief for his pain.

“Kim Namjoon. You are a magnificent leader. You made some mistakes, you messed up, so what? You’re HUMAN. You’re going to do things wrong, you’re going to fuck up. If you don’t, you will never learn how to be an even better leader. Those boys, your true brothers, adore you. They do not think you’re a disappointment. They need you just as much as you need them, if not more.”

Now it was my turn to be desperate. Desperate to make him see, desperate to break him free of that prison he’s locked himself in, desperate to bring him back to me, desperate to stop the lies he keeps telling himself.

I pulled him back into me, his face finding the same spot it was already in. I reached around and turned off the water, the cold from our bedroom sneaking in.

“Let’s get dressed and we can cuddle, okay?” I drew circles on his back.

“Okay...” he spoke brokenly against my skin.

That’s exactly what we did. He put on a pair of boxers, and I slipped on one of his shirts. He always mentioned how much he loved seeing me in them. We were wrapped up in each other, our legs tangled together. His arms tied around my waist, while my fingers played with his still damp hair. This was one of the very first times he’s opened up like this. He was being vulnerable, and I knew how much he hated that. He wanted everyone to think he was strong and stable, which he was, but it’s okay to lose control. It’s okay to let yourself feel the hurt, to let the hurt consume you. It’ll only get worse and nag you until you release it and give it the power. Than it’s gone, even if just for a little while till your emotional piggy bank starts to fill again.

“Y/N,” Joons voice pulled me from my own thoughts.

“Yes baby?” I pull his hair back a little, looking down at him.

“Thank you..”

“Thank you for letting me be here.”

[georgiabread]

sometimes this has a hot, sweet taste

summary: Then, the inevitable declaration, murmured into the skin just below his ear: “I really, really love you, Phil. Like, so much.”

word count: 2.4k

trigger warnings: none

a/n: this is slightly trashy and they're uncharacteristically sappy, but maybe i got it spot on. if you can't tell, dan and phil at the beach is my favourite thing.

Santorini is sleep, sun cream and fruity cocktails all folded between a few days of calm, and Dan realises he needs it.

This revelation arrives with half-lidded eyes, his body curled into the rubber of an inflated doughnut, floating in the pool of one of those Greek villas he used to see all over holiday sites and Pinterest. The water is blue and blinding and smells like bliss, and he has never appreciated Bryony’s spontaneity more.

The trip was planned and booked before he and Phil ever got the chance to say yes, but there were no regrets involved. Excluding the ungodly hour they arrived and the frail tax-driver of which they were at the mercy, of course. The man had grappled with their lives, scurrying around cliff roads to reach their hotel, and Dan remembers watching his heart tumble across the floor of the minibus.

But no – this idea was a tremendous one. A weekend spent with the people he’s known the longest, without prying cameras and anxiety-inducing social events. It’s a weight off Dan’s back. Because he can rest, unadulterated, no what if’s and but’s attached. Because no one will recognize him and Phil in a sheltered cove off some island in the Mediterranean.

If only it was that simple back in London.

The doughnut grazes the edge of the pool, twists and pushes Dan in another direction. It’s enough to knock him from slumber. Eyelids peel open, toes curl and crack. Dan whimpers in his throat when the sun burns his eyes. Where are his sunglasses? Didn’t Phil borrow them? Damnit Phil. Half-submerged in water and sleep, he decides to blame Phil for any possible blindness.

“Ah. The beast awakens.” Bryony’s voice rises and falls over the pool’s ripples.

Dan glances around, slightly disoriented, until he finds his friend reclined on a deck chair, pineapple juice in hand. “Did Phil steal my sunglasses?” he slurs.

“Probably. He went to get ice cream with Wirrow.”

“If that bitch doesn’t get me chocolate…”

“Don’t worry. He mentioned something about you and choc ice cream.”

“Good.”

“By the way, you should get out of that pool sometime soon. Don’t want another run-in with heat stroke.”

“Fuck, why didn’t anyone wake me up?” Dan flounders in the doughnut for a moment, sinking down the hole in the centre. He eventually makes it to the steps and clambers out. He touches his arm. Definitely freckled. And definitely hot.

Bryony chuckles and sips her juice. “You were too peaceful. Here, I took a photo.”

She finds her phone and her nails patter over the screen, before a picture of Dan’s almost-naked sleeping body is shoved in Dan’s face.

Dan narrows his eyes. “Send that to me. I look mildly cute enough to post it.”

*

A thick blob of gelato drips from Dan’s cup, landing with a dollop on his thigh. It’s chocolate, bittersweet with a dash of coffee. He wipes it away with his thumb and licks it, hears Phil snigger beside him about gross boyfriends or something like that. Their ankles are hooked together underwater, the two of them perched on the side of the pool with expensive ice cream cooling their lips. There is warmth where their arms meet. Freckles are drawn together like constellations, connecting their bodies.

Dan side-eyes Phil after his muttered comment, mouth twitching. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing! I just said it’s yucky when you eat off your thigh,” Phil says, slurping on his spoon to conceal a grin.

“I thought certain people rather enjoyed eating off my skin.”

“Hey, don’t be so vulgar.” Phil shoves Dan’s shoulder, letting his cheeks accumulate a satisfying redness.

Giggling, Dan falls to the side a little more than necessary, and when he straightens up, paints Phil’s blush with his own ice cream-smothered spoon. “There. Eat that.”

“You do it.”

Eyebrows quirk up. Dan tips towards him without hesitation and drags his tongue over Phil’s skin, licking up the cream. Phil gags and scrubs his cheek, his nose crinkling in mock-disgust. “Urgh. You’re horrible. That was hardly sexual.”

Dan pouts. “Is my tongue no longer appealing?”

“Not when you get your saliva all over my face.”

“I’m disappointed in you.” Dan scoops at his gelato, watching his partner carefully. There’s a glint leftover in his eyes. Phil definitely loved it. Dan looks away to hide a smile, rubbing Phil’s foot with his own.

There is a silence. It takes a long, soothing breath, settles around them like a blanket. Dan focuses on the ocean before them. It’s a vast and glossy thing that oddly comforts him. There’s something about the enormity of it, knowing he’s so far away from the responsibilities and hassle of their London life, that puts him at ease.

“We should do this more often.”

“Do what? Lick each other’s faces?”

“No, idiot. Go on holiday. It’s…nice.” Dan’s voice grows soft. “Just being here with you, that’s nice. And – I can hold your hand when we’re in public and stuff, without worrying who’s gonna see and question us or…or expose us online. Of course it’s great hanging with Bryony and Wirrow, but. We never get enough time like this, you know? Time alone, I mean.”

Phil had reached up and brushed his fingers through Dan’s matted curls while he was talking. Now his fingertips land on his jaw, and Dan turns his head. He watches the smaller sea swirling in Phil’s eyes.

“Yeah, I know,” Phil whispers. Their ice cream is a distant memory. “What if we went to Japan again? I can propose under the cherry blossoms.”

“If you do that, I’ll actually say no simply because it’s too cheesy.”

“Rude.”

Phil kisses him then – delicate, a reassurance. He tugs on his bottom lip, leaves a taste of lime and pistachio behind. Dan chases the kiss, hands landing on Phil’s arm and neck, then face, cupping his cheeks, their mouths coalescing. The water ripples around their legs. Something painfully fond fills Dan’s chest. When he pulls back, a thumb brushing over Phil’s cheekbone, he – and it’s stupid, it’s so stupid – he suddenly wants to cry.

*

The four of them go snorkelling in the bay. Fish are abundant in all sizes and colours, and Phil confirms this by calling out, “Guys, come look at this!” whenever he lays eyes on one.

Wirrow is mildly interested. Bryony pretends to go deaf. Dan humours him for about the first four. Then shoves his face underwater and keeps it there, preferring to quietly observe the sea life going about their day. His skin feels slick from all the sun cream Phil lathered on him, going on about UV rays despite his own ghostly exterior.

Afterward, while removing their snorkels and diving fins, Phil crosses his arms like a five-year-old and whines about being snubbed.

“We loved your fish, dear,” Dan sighs, eyes soft. “But they weren’t all that remarkable.”

He leaves a kiss on Phil’s cheek as he stands.

It’s ridiculous, how easy it is.

*

By 7 pm, the sun shies away behind the horizon. The ocean purples. They end up at a bar called the Chrysós Brewery; it has a roofless balcony overlooking the cove, and tall torches are scattered between mingling patrons. Bryony and Wirrow disappear quite suspiciously, probably wanting Dan and Phil to have the evening to themselves.

They make the most of it. A petite table for two near the glass balustrades is pinched, and they order the most zany-sounding cocktails on the menu. When the waitress hands over their drinks, Dan studies his warily. It’s blood red, with an odd-looking bunch of fruit and lavender petals sprinkled over the foam.

“Maybe you should drink it instead of having a staring contest with it,” Phil teases after a minute. He takes a sip of his own cocktail, transparent turquoise and decorated with strawberries.

Dan gives him a withering look. “Alright, McSass. I don’t need your comments, thank you.” He takes a large gulp, and the cocktail explodes against his taste buds and eats away at his tongue. He’s left with wide eyes and a tangy aftertaste that actually…isn’t that bad. “You know, I think I’ll order another,” he says.

*

By nine o’clock they’re near-drunk.

At one point, Dan fumbles for Phil’s hand and hauls him away from the table, swerving to a stop somewhere along the railing. “I can’t believe we’re drunk and it’s only nine o’clock.”

Phil blames it on him. Dan frowns and says they’re in Greece, there’s no rules here. But having downed a variety of bizarre brews and beverages, he doesn’t even trust his own judgement.

“Well, we’re not actually drunk,” Phil points out. “We’re just tipsy, or maybe slightly above, I dunno.”

Dan blows a raspberry when he sighs, winding his arms around Phil’s waist and making his head comfy on Phil’s shoulder. “Whatever. We’re doing this ancient ruins-tour-thing tomorrow, so don’t be hungover.”

“Oh, I’m not that drunk, you bum.”

“I guess time will tell.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

Phil pretends to vomit. “We can wait till we get back to the villa for that.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating a party pooper,” Dan grumbles.

“I can’t believe I’m dating a child.”

“We should just agree to split up if that’s how we really feel.”

Phil draws Dan closer and nudges his nose into his neck. “Definitely.”

Live music fills the silence that passes, drifting from a corner of the bar. Unconsciously, they begin to sway. Dan traces his fingers over Phil’s back, and Phil tucks one or two kisses inside Dan’s collarbone.

The moment is blissful. Dan’s brain is a little clouded, and he has to blink away the urge to sleep, but he loves this. He loves slow-dancing with Phil, blind to everyone else in the room. All he can see is the dark-haired man nestled against him, his best friend and assigned ‘grow old with me’ person. And Dan realises that maybe the places he tried to find solace in had never mattered from the beginning.

Then, the inevitable declaration, murmured into the skin just below his ear: “I really, really love you, Phil. Like, so much.”

After that, Phil chuckles, his whole body shifting against Dan’s. Then he shuffles back and takes two dimpled cheeks in his palms and kisses him, drunk and sloppy and smitten. “Love you too, you nong.”

*

“Your heart line’s kind of long and curvy…I think that means you express all your emotions freely. Or is that content with love life? I’m not sure.”

Phil’s voice is soft and matted with sleep, matching the muted light in their villa bedroom. He studies the creases carved into Dan’s left palm with a thoughtful frown, fingers ghosting over the smooth skin. The sheets are still sticky and twisted around their tangled legs. Sweat is stranded in Dan’s hairline. His eyelids flutter closed every now and then but he rebels against the drowsiness, much preferring to stare at the quiet concentration on Phil’s face as his palm is read.

Dan huffs a low laugh through his nose. He can’t tell if this is legitimate or not, no matter what Phil says about his psychic ancestors. But he doesn’t dwell on that for too long. Phil’s right about his love life, at least.

“What about this one?” Dan murmurs, pointing to the groove arching away from his thumb.

Phil traces it gently. “That’s your life line. All about general health and life changes. Yours is quite deep and round, which I think means you have a lot of enthusiasm and stuff.”

“Bullshit.”

“I think that’s actually quite true. You’re sweet and energetic when you’re in a happy mood.”

Dan snorts but hides half his face in his pillow. He won’t voice the embarrassing thought in his head, something to do with the knight of wands. “I hate you.”

Dan can’t remember the time they got back from the bar. He was too busy pulling Phil’s shirt off, crumbling when Phil ran his hands over his bare chest. But now, it’s late, and they need rest. Tomorrow is dedicated to exploration. They still have another three days of Santorini, before it’s home again on a flight to audience expectations and boundaries they know not to cross. But Dan wants to be stuck in this moment forever, love in his chest and Phil’s delicate fingers on his skin, their naked bodies woven together with warmth in the most innocent and most passionate way.

Phil’s lips brush over Dan’s fingertips, bringing his focus back to the palmistry at hand. “Now this is your head line,” Phil murmurs. “Yours is quite straight, which is like, you think realistically. But you also have a little doughnut there and that means…you, um, love food.”

Dan’s laughter is like wind chimes. “That’s the fakest thing I’ve ever heard,” he whinges. “You’re just being stupid now.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re a phoney palm-reader.”

“Hey! These are great services. You should be paying double.”

“Okay, tell me about this one, then.” Dan taps the crease that runs through his heart line.

“Your fate line is broken in two,” Phil observes. “Right. That means one day, some guy is destined to chop you in half and that’s how you die.”

“Fucking shut up.” Cosy giggles burst from Dan’s lips, and he leans closer, bumping their noses together. “I want a refund.”

“Nope. No refunds,” Phil says, linking their fingers. He lifts Dan’s hand to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, one by one.

“Well, you can expect a strongly-worded review on your website, then.” Dan’s voice takes on a mock-angry tone. “Phil Lester is the worst palm reader I know. He never knows what he’s talking about and his face is too pretty and distracting. Zero stars.”

“What?” Phil laughs softly. His eyes dip down to Dan’s mouth, before meeting his gaze again. His next words squeeze through half-parted lips. “You should be thanking me for my good looks. They’re obviously a bonus.”

Dan tilts his head. “Obviously,” he murmurs, before pressing his mouth deep and tender against Phil’s. He can taste the bite of vodka and lemon, but everything feels saccharine, his own tendrils of drunkenness blurring his thoughts, lulling his heart. Phil squeezes his hand, nibbles gently on his bottom lip, making sure to leave it chapped in the morning. And Dan just breathes him in until he fills his lungs and with every kiss, he says;

You are where I want to be, always.

phanfics

[linslovelylocks]

He Loves Me

Words: 2961

Summary: Your friend won't stop trying to set you up, and really, what's a girl to do?

also known as the inevitable fake dating au

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

Love is quick. It's swimming upstream, three feet underwater, it's the weightlessness of gravity and the pull in your chest. It's old lungs, and new faces, it's "I never told you I needed you until you forgot how much you used to need me too."

Love is slow, smooth like honey, sticky warm feeling of fingers against your own. It's loose limbs and butterfly kisses, a balancing act. It's you, dangling on a precipice, two feet from reality and unwilling to leap.

Love is the kind of thing that happens at two a.m., barefoot in the kitchen, slow dancing to nothing but the sound of his breath, quiet in the darkness, bodies a flicker of something beautiful, the last two lovely things on earth.

Love is easy, love is hard. Love is broken, love is beautiful.

Love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love, cannot be killed or swept aside.

Love is love. There is no other name for it.

'He loves me, he loves me not.'

Love is him.

And so it begins.

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

"For the last time, I don't need you to set me up!"

Renee sat across from you, scowling at you from the rim of her coffee cup. She narrowed her eyes at you then, and you shuddered, gaze lifting from hers to rest on the linoleum.

"Come on, you never go anywhere! You're so focused on work."

You crossed your legs underneath the table, and brought the coffee to lips, breathing in the taste of if.

"Come on, my work is important. Besides, I don't need anybody. I'm perfectly happy like this!"

It was warm, hot on your tongue, and you savored the taste of it, bitter and sharp.

"Please, I hate seeing you like this. Meeting someone new would be good for you."

"I can't."

The words were quick, rolling off your tongue, and you startled, shocked at the sound of your own voice.

"And why's that?"

The coffee was all too warm now, slipping down your throat to nestle in your stomach, and you flushed, body going hot under the weight of her stare.

"Because I'm... seeing someone."

Her eyes went round, shock marring her features, and you gulped, anxiety gnawing at the pit of your stomach.

"Who?"

You looked down at your coffee mug.

"Lin."

Goddamnit.

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

"We have a problem."

"Aw, I missed you too, babe."

He plopped a kiss on your hair, and you breathed him in, the steady smell of home, and the tension in your body seemed to seep away, shoulders loosening under his touch, body soft and pliant.

"What's wrong?" he spoke again, fingers reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

"I may have, uh... told Renee that we were dating?"

He was quiet for a moment, eyes meeting yours, and his face was blank, empty, perfectly still in the darkness.

"Why?"

His voice was soft, lilting, and you felt the anxiety, churning in your stomach, uneasy in the silence.

"She wouldn't leave me alone! I don't wanna go on anymore blind dates, Lin, so-"

"Okay."

"I'll just have to tell her we broke up or- Wait, what?"

He swallowed, something thick and heavy, and when you looked at him, his eyes were dark, wanting.

"So, we pretend to date for a little while, until you find someone you really like, y'know? It's not like I'm dating anyone right now."

"You never date."

When he spoke, it was quiet, and the sound of it seemed to shake you, curling around your toes, voice thick with something you couldn't name.

"Yeah."

His eyes never left yours. You should've known. -----------------------------------

"Congratulations," Oak said, shouting as the two of you entered the Richard Rogers.

Lin rolled his eyes, making his way into the dressing room, and Oak followed, shuffling behind the two of you.

"Honestly, I wondered when he'd make a move," he said, beaming, eyes bright, "Poor boys been half in love with you for years!"

Oak clapped you on the shoulder, and you laughed, long and loud, voice ringing in the dressing room.

"Ok, that's enough of that, I think."

He was smiling, but it was thin, stretching nervously across his teeth.

"Aw, come on, she's your girl now! I can't tell you how many times he's come to me for advice-"

"Alright, we're leaving! Thanks, asshole!"

He laughed, but it shook, and you squinted, eyeing him carefully.

"What was that all about," you said as you left, two steps behind him as he hurried out of the dressing room.

"Just Oak being an ass. You know how they are about the two of us," he said, chuckling, clear and bright, voice steady, and you almost believed him.

Almost.

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

"You wash, I'll dry?"

Takeout boxes littered the coffee table, and you plucked them from the surface as Lin grabbed the plates.

"Remind me why we eat takeout on our nice china?" you laughed as you tossed the boxes in the garbage, rubbing your hands on your pants and making your way to the sink.

"Makes it feel more like home. Besides, then it gives us something to do."

You turned on the tap and waited, fingers resting beneath the faucet, till the water ran warm, testing the temperature as Lin dropped the plates in the sink.

"I can think of plenty of things to do that don't involve getting drenched. And soapy."

"Ah, but none of 'em sound like a good time," he said, waggling his eyebrows, and you laughed, hitting him over the head with the dish towel.

"Hush. We have dishes to do."

You worked in silence, bodies heavy under the quiet of night, but you could hear it, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, a quick staccato, just beneath his chest, and you loved the sound.

He's here. He's alive. He loves me.

The voice inside your head seemed to scream, taunting, jeering.

'For how long?' it screeched, and you felt it, the tightness in your throat, the way your body seemed to dissolve, fraying at the edges, all tight limbs and shaking hands, and you wanted to shout, angry at the notion that Lin would ever be anywhere but right here.

'He loves me. He loves me not.'

How long indeed.

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

"My parents are coming to stay with us."

Lin's head shot up, gaze lifting from the page as he stared at you, eyes wide.

"What? Why?"

You groaned, throwing your body on the couch, head in his lap, and he brushed your hair away from your eyes, all soft touch and gentle fingers, and you closed your eyes.

"They heard we were dating."

Lin huffed, snorting under his breath as he ran his fingers through your hair, one hand holding his book.

"I bet they were ecstatic."

"I can't tell if you're joking or not, but Mom was so happy she cried."

He laughed for real then, something loud and booming, and you chuckled, smiling softly from your place on the couch.

His fingers left your hair to turn the page, and you pouted, whining at the loss of contact.

"Oh, hush. You're so needy."

You laughed. If only he knew.

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

"What are we gonna do?" you whispered, gesturing at the door in a panic.

"What do you mean?"

You rolled your eyes, pointing through the crack in the door at your living room where your parents sat, curled together on the couch.

"I can't go back to my room."

"Why not?"

You groaned, plopping onto his bed with a sigh, face first onto the mattress where he sat, perched next to you, hand resting on your leg.

"Lin, they'll think it's weird if we're not sleeping together. We're supposed to be dating."

"Oh, right."

You laughed, the sound sharp in the quiet of Lin's bedroom, and he chuckled, following you, and before you knew it you were roaring, full bellied and loud, shaking on the twin bed.

When you settled, it was quiet, still for a few moments, and then you felt it, the pad of his thumb, rubbing gently, swiping across the back of your knee.

You swallowed, and the air was thick, heavy in the darkness, silence settling uneasily between you.

"Let's get to bed," he spoke, voice rough, cracking, and you almost reached for him, desperate to have something to do, hands shaking, aching to touch, but he stood, shucking off his shirt.

"Okay."

You pretended you weren't watching. He pretended he didn't see you stare. You were a match made in heaven.

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

"I know we're supposed to be dating, but you're not even looking for a girlfriend!"

Lin chewed thoughtfully, eyes bright as he swallowed, and you followed the motion with your eyes, the way his throat bobbed.

You shifted in your seat.

"I don't need to," he said simply, taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Come on, you're insane! You can't really tell me you wouldn't be happier in a relationship?"

He looked at you then, eyes soft, and when he smiled, it was bittersweet, tinged sad around the edges.

"That's starting to sound an awful lot like what Renée said to you, don't you think?"

"That's not-"

He looked at you then, long and hard, and you blinked, almost dumbly, before shaking your head.

"It's not the same thing."

"And why's that?"

It was quick, an easy retort, but he took his time, drawing out the syllables, tasting them on his tongue before he let them go, rolling the consonants between his teeth with care.

"Because I just want what's best for you!"

He smiled again, but it wasn't sad, just beautiful, and it shook you. Your hand gripped the table, white knuckled and shaky, and you took a deep breath.

"And she didn't?"

You were silent for a moment, just watching, letting your eyes trace his movements. The way he held his cup, all loose wrists and firm fingers. The way his eyelashes fluttered, beating against his cheeks, kissing at the corner of his eyes. The way he smiled, wide and quick and beautiful. The way he only ever seemed to look at you that way, and suddenly you were dizzy, restless, heart beating against your chest, knocking at your ribcage, a steady drum line. You could feel it then, the flurry in your stomach, the way the earth seemed to slow, ever changing, but stuck, right here, on the two of you. Like you were something more than what you were, like this, right here, was monumental. Like you were the stuff of dreams, like this love was the kind that could last forever. You were drifting, pulling, in every direction, bones shifting, and then, in an instant, the two of you collided, the stuff of stars, spun like silk by the moon, made for wishes and wanting, two creatures built for love.

"I don't need anybody," he said.

You love him, you love him not.

"I already found someone."

Oh god.

You love him.

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

The nights grew longer, and the days grew colder, but you and him stayed the same, a kaleidoscope of almosts, the distant feeling of an almost collision, bodies sharing secrets in the silence between you.

You didn't tell him you loved him.

He didn't tell you the way he laid awake some nights, just watching, eyes caught on your silhouette. The way your breath hitched, stilling, tucked in bed beside him, a breath away but ocean apart. Itching to touch but always staying still, caught in a stalemate with his own two hands.

You didn't tell him you loved him.

He didn't tell you that this, right here, was the closest he'd ever been to happiness, that he could spend the rest of his life playing make believe with the summer sun, but it'd never matter if you weren't right there beside him.

He was always the musical type, could turn water into wine if he only had a keyboard in his hands, but he didn't tell you that this was the closest he had ever felt to living music.

You didn't tell him you loved him.

He didn't tell you that it was okay.

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

It ended, very much, the way it began.

"So, when are you going to tell me about this mystery girl of yours?"

"Huh?"

You smiled at him then, tucked into the piano bench, hunched over a mountain of sheet music as he played, scribbling on the page in front of him every so often.

"That mystery girl? The one you're in love with?"

His fingers stopped, immediately, halting to a pause in the wake of your words, and you could hear him swallow.

"Oh, that's not important."

"Come on, Lin, you can't keep it from me forever."

Silence.

"Lin?"

"Sorry, I'm just- I don't wanna talk about it, okay?"

'He loves me, he loves me not.'

"What's she like?"

It's quiet when you speak, silent for an instant, like the earth could feel the weight of your words, and you breathed it in, the stillness, hovering there for just a moment.

"She's perfect."

You bet.

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

"So then he tells me, "I think you've had enough.""

You hiccupped, stumbling through the doorway, and all you could feel was Lin's arm around your waist, keeping you steady, and you smiled.

"I think he may have been right," Lin chuckled, setting you down and walking to the sink, glass in hand.

"Shut up. I was celebrating!"

He filled the glass up, just below the rim, and you frowned.

"I don't wanna drink that."

"You're gonna drink it, and you're gonna like it, missy."

You scowled, but took the glass, downing it quickly, before you spoke again.

"I'm not drunk. I'm just drunk enough."

The room was spinning, and so was he, shining underneath the fluorescents of your apartment, and you could trace it all back to here, and now, the moment things changed.

"Enough for what," Lin said, rolling his eyes.

"For you to tell me about your secret girlfriend."

He didn't speak, but you could see it, the way his body tensed, shoulders going rigid underneath your stare, and you let out a deep breath.

"If you don't wanna tell me about it, that's fine, y'know, you're entitled to keep secrets, you're a grown man, but I just feel like-"

"For God's sake, it's you."

It only took an instant. The cup fell from your hand, clattering against the tile, and you were silent, unmoving, perfectly still in the darkness. The room was spinning, quicker and quicker now, and you felt sick, nauseous. Afraid.

"Hey."

His mouth was moving, but all you could remember were the words  'it's you,' hushed in the dark, over and over again. The silence seemed to stretch on, infinities between you, and you watched him lean down and pick it up, silently, before he set it on the table, and grabbed his keys.

"I'm gonna go."

You stood there, slack jawed, feet planted firmly against the kitchen floor, two feet away from him, the love of your life, aching for something only you could give him.

'He loves me. He loves me not.'

"Call me, okay?"

He loves me.

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

It took you approximately three minutes and twenty six seconds to sober up enough to stand, and you grabbed your purse, feet flying, racing to the entryway and stumbling out the door.

You waved down a cab, frantic, hands shaking, and you knew where you were going, but you still felt lost, unnerved, no sense of direction, because the only person who knew how to find their way around this damn city is gone, blocks away and miles apart, and you wonder when you started to need him, when days without him were hardly days at all.

When you get there, its dark, but the suns begun to poke through, first light of day streaking across the sky, and yet you're cold, freezing, teeth chattering amidst the bustle of New York.

You knock, and you wait, and when he opens the door you don't pause, arms reaching for him on instinct, fingers fisting in the fabric of your tee shirt, and then you're kissing him, mouth warm against yours, and all too familiar.

"We need to talk," he says, pulling back, but you shush him, mouth insistent on his own.

You were long sober by then, the anxiety melting away at the alcohol in your system, but the moment you kissed him, you felt drunk, dizzy, high on power and the taste of his lips. You were unsteady, knees clacking, hands shaking, so you pushed your fingers into his hair, fisted, tugged, and he moaned, mouth falling open.

The taste of him, you were discovering, was quickly becoming your favorite, and you chased it, tongue probing, reaching to greet his like old friends. He wrapped his arms around you, and you were so full of him, and here, this beautiful moment, two stars meeting, passing by for just a moment, and deciding you liked the view.

He let go of you then, and you whined, breath falling heavily from your lips, close enough to brush past his own, and he smiled.

"I love you," he whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

"I love you," you whispered back, and then you filled the silence with your lips, breathing in the taste of him, drowning in it.

Love, you were finding, is perhaps a lot simpler than you'd originally imagined.

Love, however, is still just Lin.

'He loves me.'

'He loves me.'

'He loves me.'

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