#so thats why he bursts out in one second and switches back in the next as soon as he realized that he let his temper loose

[words-for-holland]

Distractions

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom and Y/N decide to work in the same room together. The problem...both of them get easily distracted and a whole lotta fluff comes with it.

A/N: Whoa its been awhile but here we are again! Thank you for 1,000+ followers it means the world! Surprises to come 😉

“Hello beautiful.” Tom greets Y/N with a cheeky smile on his face. He quickly pecks her soft cheek as he places his laptop across from his lovely girlfriend, who was currently focused on her work.

She takes a second to look up, returning his smile with a soft one. “Hey, good looking. What’s up?”

“Nothing really. Is it okay if I work here with you? I just want to be close to my girl.”Tom pouts.

Y/N’s heart could burst at the sight and reason he gave. An inaudible “aw” prolonging through her mind...until she quickly realized that there could be some complications with this as a slight frown starts to replace her dimpled smile. “Wait...are you sure?”, she asks. “Dont you have press interviews that require absolute silence? I doubt any of you will want to hear the constant typing in the background.”

“Yeah, your typing is horrendous with those lead heavy fingertips of yours.” Tom teases.

“Well these lead heavy fingertips aren’t leaving anytime soon, so youre probably better off working elsewhere.” She suggests, pointing off to the distance. Tom groans at the idea, using his one hand to put her finger down. He engulfs hers with his, lacing her fingers and holding on tightly.

“Noooo. Dont wanna be anywhere else. Please darling? ” He pouts once more.

She giggles at his plea, rolling her eyes. “Course you can, bubz.” Tom excitedly scoots his chair in as he rubs his hands together to prep for the work to come.

And work they did...for at least 10 minutes. Tom was getting antsy as he read through his next script. Occasionally his eyes would roll to the left, and observe Y/N as she continued to read through an article on her screen. Not that Tom didnt find his own work fun but he always found watching Y/N do her thing just a bit more interesting.

He hadn’t realized himself, but his body start to shift and lean more towards her. His arm extending to wrap her in, as it glided up and down in a steady motion. His thumb doodling hearts on her shoulder. Tom could tell it had an effect on Y/N, discreetly smirking to himself as he heard her audible shakey sigh.

He wanted to see what else could make her sigh like that, so instead of his thumb he used pointer and middle finger, running them up and down her shoulder. Tom could see the smile creeping on Y/N’s face and her little head shake. She knew what he was up to and yet, Y/N still wanted him to think that he was not gonna get her that easily. But God was it hard. Every touch felt like tiny fireworks against her skin, goosebumps forming all over her body with every touch. She to stay strong. No distractions.

Tom eyes perked up, at the action. He must go further, he thinks. Tom starts to trace his nose from her shoulder to her neck, leaving kisses at her jawline. “C’mon darling. Think its time for a break.”, he whispers in her ear.

She turns her head towards him as she smiles, leaving a quick kiss on Tom’s lips. “Its only been ten minutes.” She laughs. “Five if you want to count the distractions.”

He backs up, pretending to look appalled. “How dare you. I’ve been a good lad focusing on my script for the whole ten minutes.”

A playful glare formed on Y/N’s soft face which ultimately ended her up with a fit of giggles. She couldnt take him seriously, but then again she never did with anything. Tom has always said if they were kidnapped by a pair of robbers, her first reaction would be to laugh. As the laughter died down, Y/N paid her attention back to the screen which had been inactive during the playful banter and continued to type out those set of documents that she had been meaning to get to.

Tom on the other hand was still reading through his script, taking mental notes on how he was going to approach his character. This time he was completely engrossed in his work. His eyes moving left to right with every line he took in. Until...he felt something ticking his lower calves. Tom knew it was Y/N’s foot, by the way it brushed just as he had done with his hand on her shoulder. The movements never stopped, her legs now curling around his own. Y/N was trying to getting back at him, but one thing she always forgot was that Tom always wins.

Naturally he had to the same, and what once became a playful game of footsie, now ended up with Tom shifting Y/N to sit on his lap. Her legs now wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto her hips. Both of them connecting their soft lips, feeling every spark and essence of love. He looked up at Y/N with admiration, thinking how lucky he is to have her in his life. Yeah Covid sucked for the most part and limited their ability to even do anything exciting outside, but it gave them the opportunity to be with each other far more than they could have on a normal day. On a normal day, Tom would be jumping around country to country while Y/N would be home miles and miles away from him. Course, nothings changed with jumping from country to country, but Tom gets to bring Y/N with him now and thats all that mattered to them.

But work never stopped them from keeping busy. Just as their kisses were getting more heated, and their hands tangling each others hair both their alarms went off. The couple stopped their antics as they leaned their heads back, groaning in synchronization.

“Ughh. Thats my cue. I have to prep for an interview.” He mumbles as he nuzzles into Y/N’s neck.

“I know. I have to get ready for another business meeting. Whoo.” she speaks in a sarcastic manner, dropping her head.

“What time?” He asked pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Mm...3. Why?”

Tom plays with the strands of her soft hair. “Was wondering if you’ll stay with me through mine and Ill stay with you through yours.”

“As much fun as that would be. I dont think were allowed to —“

“Im not saying we have to be on camera for each others meeting. But if one of us will be off camera itll be all right.” He plans, still looking at his girl with pleading eyes. Y/N’s mouth twitches to the left, her eyes furrowed with suspicion.

“You’re doing it again.” Tom states, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“Doing what?”

“You’re making that face again.”

Her expression quickly changes to confusion, not entirely sure of what Tom was noticing that she didnt about her own face. “What face?”, she asks.

“The one where you twitch your lips and make your eyes look angry. You only do it when youre indecisive about something. Its bloody adorable.”

Y/N snorts at his comment, and tries to get off to give him time to prepare, only to be stopped by his hands pushing her back down on his lap.

“I was serious about wanting to stay with my girl the whole day while doing work. Please?” He pleads again, this time bringing out the puppy face. “I’ll be good and do the dishes tonight.”

To be fair, Y/N knew she was always gonna say yes to Tom. Its pretty hard to deny her dorky boyfriend when hes asking so sweetly and just wants to spend the day together. More so, if the roles were switched, she would have done the same thing. “Go get changed movie star, before youre late for your interview.” She murmurs to him, kissing his cheek before she scrambles of his lap to sit across from him.

Tom whoops with victory as he runs out the room quickly changing into his shirt, fixing his hair, and adding glasses for that sophisticated touch. Sure he wanted to look his best for the Cherry Press, but he made sure his outfit was something Y/N would very much adore as well.

“How do I look?” Tom asked coming out of their shared bedroom.

Y/N looks up from her computer, and smiles widely. “Handsome as always.” She couldnt take her eyes off of him, admiring every detail of the clothing and how it perfectly complimented Tom’s feature. She eyed him from top to bottom, until she noticed something. “Uhh..honey....you’re not wearing any pants.” She asked a bit confused. Her eyes engrossed in the muscles of his thighs and the fit of his Calvin Klein boxers.

Tom smirks at her. “Its uncomfortable wearing pants. Besides no one will see...except you.” He teases, gently lifting her head up so that her eyes meets his. “Eyes up here love.”

“Youre something else.” She laughs, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “Well...least we know who wears the pants in the relationship.”

Tom laughs loudly at her comment. He hooks the waistband of Y/N’s sweatpants and snaps them back to further prove her point. “That was a good one. Ill give you that.” Tom and Y/N high five each other, and then it was press time.

Y/N kept quiet and tried her best to minimize the typing unless it was really needed. Seeing Tom talk about his work and dedication was something that she had always admired about him. He loved his job and everyone can see that. Occasionally they’d steal glances from each other, smiling and holding each others hand under table so that no one could see. But it was just one of those moments that Tom and Y/N couldnt help themselves too. Two hours passed and Tom was free.

“You did so well.” Y/N praised Tom and awarded him with a quick kiss. “I love it when you talk about your passion.”

“Thanks. I love that you were there with me to sit through it all.” He smiles. “I believe its your turn now. It’s almost 3.”

Y/N frowns, knowing shed have to dread through hers. Instead of getting to talk about her passions, itd all be about business, business, business. “Ugh. Do I have to?”she groans.

“Come on now. Dont be like that, you’re gonna be fine. Ill be here with you the whole time.” Tom reassures her with kisses all over her face.

“No distractions?” She asks.

“No distractions.”

[akvtsuki-ari]

Around Your Neck

Warning: smut, unprotected sex/creampie, post!prison reid, fingering, oral both recieving, throatfucking, slapping, bruises idk??

Length: 4.8k 

Authors note: you know that tiktok audio that goes “whats wrong with you?,” over and over again. thats how writing this fic made me feel. based loosely after a conversation me and my wife @pastanest​ had sdkjhjkef and that gifset of spencer with that gold chain on that has me so tight. so disrespectful...

Edit: heres the gifset!!! 

Plot Summary: Prison changed Spencer. That damn chain around his neck made sure you remembered. 

Spencer Reid was… different after prison. It was something about him when he left, like a part of him was always far away somewhere when you spoke to him. He was fractured it seemed like - even though he was saving lives everyday there always seemed to be something on his mind. He was still Spencer of course, still sweet-talking and soothing when he needed to be. He never lost that odd charm about him and after those first few months he grew back to be more comfortable in his own skin but there was just something there. Something on the back of his mind that he seemed to be handling alone. 

You’d been with Spencer for a while before he went to jail, a few years and other traumatic events later - you had an idea of how Spencer dealt with pain and difficulty. He liked to let things sit and stir inside of him for a long time before he lets it show - then he gets snappy and mean for a bit after that till he sorta just breaks. In many ways, when something bad happened to Spencer you sorta just knew what things would be like for a bit, but no matter how many times he slipped you caught him. When he got shot and nearly died twice, you were there right next to him - making sure that he was going to be okay. That's just what you did, to say you were Spencers ride-or-die would be an understatement. You gave him whatever he needed, whether that be some tough love or being pampered for a few days straight. 

Spencer knew that about you, and even before prison he had this affinity for you that always made sure you knew how much he adored you. He wanted you to know that he only ever had eyes for you and that he was beyond grateful for how patient you seemed and how loving you were to him. Spencer made sure he never stopped chasing you before he went to prsion. He bought you flowers, supported you when you switched careers, and generally made sure he returned the favor in loving you but he was always chasing you still. Part of it was out of disbelief that someone could love him like that, but the other part was out of insecurity. You always told him you were always his, but he never seemed to believe you. 

Prison changed a lot of things for Spencer, but that thing about him chasing you was what changed most. Spencer was always possessive in his own right, but he wasn’t jealous necessarily. He just wanted to make sure you were okay and that no one was fucking with you or bothering you. It didn’t bother him before if you talked and flirted with Luke, or if some guy was hitting on you because you were normally so adamantly rejecting it. He wasn’t someone who was particularly upset about not having claimed you as his - before he didn’t really care. 

For the longest time you didn’t really notice just how much Spencer had actually changed how he acted towards you - mostly because he was still really sweet to you. It wasn’t like he was treating you any worse, or necessarily any better. It was honest to God, just different, more.. something. You don’t wanna use the word aggressive because Spencer isn’t the aggressive type. Spencer was calculated, and he could be angry sometimes but not often. He didn’t have a shorter fuse - hell, you could argue that prison made him more patient since he was often just lying in wait. 

The best way to describe it is probably just more confident, really. He was assertive about you being his and his tolerance for crude jokes that came your way was a lot lower. Most of the time, at least before, he’d let shit slide if it was too small. Nowadays though, if he even catches something bothering you he steps in - always finding the small of your back and pulling you closer to him like he was keeping you close to protect you. He doesn’t curse them out or get angry, just stares at them with a blank expression that's arguably more intimidating. 

You were a flirt by nature, too. You were never trying to flirt with people, but you’re one for flattery and compliments so it sure can be read that way. You loved receiving the same energy so when you did your jokes and compliments would increase ten-fold. It doesn’t bother Spencer because he knows you’re just being silly but before, he didn’t mind if the other person was serious because he knew that you’d never continue like that. Now though, when someones dropping any lines your way he’ll tell them to leave you alone no question, unconcerned about any consequence or even if that person could beat Spencer's ass. Spencer wasn’t concerned about strength like he used to be - and when you asked him about why that was he simply shrugs. 

“I’ll play dirty if it gets there,” 

Those were all small details but there were so many of them that it was starting to pile up and draw you to interesting conclusions. Sex was also a clear example of change. The first time the two of you had sex when he came back from prison was relatively the same, but you could tell he was holding something back. For the longest time, you didn’t really know what until it was the heat of the moment and Spencer wrapped his hands around your throat and ask if he could choke you - something that you’d ask for previously that he was rather unsure about doing. It was the way Spencer's eyes looked into your eyes when he did it, the way his fingers curled almost carelessly around your delicate neck - so instinctively as if the whole endeavor was so natural. When he lets you go and kisses you - you’re more than into it but you can’t help but wonder where his desire came from. You didn’t really mind how Spencer got when he was like that but damn, you couldn’t say you saw it coming. 

The more you thought about it, the more it became clear to you that Spencer has changed a whole lot more than you understood initially, but maybe the last straw was when you made a sorta silly joke about the necklace worn around his neck after prison. It was a thin gold chain, for the most part tucked underneath his clothes when he went to work. He said in many cultures gold is a symbol for blessing and spirituality and he wanted to keep that with him, and that a lot of other people in prison wore gold chains. You made some stupid joke that if he were gonna wear it all the time - he should at least have your name around his neck. You knew stuff like that wasn’t really Spencer thing so when you’d said it, even though it was pretty hot, you were mostly just joking. 

It’d been a few weeks since then. Spencer had a case that needed his attention and you were at the bullpen with Penelope waiting for everyone's arrival. You were nearly bursting from anticipation, a busy case that made you particularly clingy and had you missing Spencer more than you can explain. There everyone was, walking through the doors when Spencer walks through and wraps you up in his arms. Spencer picks you up and spins you around for a few seconds before giving you a small smile. You just hug him again, noticing the cool metal on your skin when you do. You pull back before Spencer speaks and look down - his chains never had a pendant before 

There it was. Your name, hangin around his neck like it was nothing. Spencer was sporting it with a more casual version of what he normally wears, which was basically just no tie. A white shirt and blazer, and your name around his neck. You try your very best to ignore the heartbeat in your jeans while your fingers went up carefully to touch it. Spencer gives a coy smile, watching the way your eyes look at it so hazy. Just like he wanted. He places his hand on top of yours, seeing your pretty eyes flick up to meet his. You can barely contain yourself - the chain around his neck always brought you to some interesting places but to see your name - your fucking name, around his neck so casually brought you somewhere rather interesting. 

“Um - nice necklace,” you squeak out. Spencer laughs brightly, his arms circling around your waist as you bury your face in his chest instinctively . You can feel the way his laugh reverberates and you just whine in annoyance. 

“I’m glad you liked it, might be a little awkward otherwise,” Spencer jokes. It was your turn to giggle, Spencer left terribly endeared by the sound. 

“You ready to head home, doctor?,” you say softly. Spencer nods, taking your hand as you lead the way and feeling his heart burst out of his chest, grateful to have you on him always. 

__

You guess that Spencer buying your name as a pendant on his chain was really what set you off in realizing just how possessive he was. He didn’t take it off around the house, walking around your shared apartment shirtless with it on at all times. He’d play with it constantly, fingers brushing the smooth metal while he was doing something a little mindless or that required his focused attention. It was driving you nuts, the image of Spencers chain hanging in your face was already one you returned to a lot but - now that your name was there it made the stakes of such a situation so much higher. 

Spencers just sitting and reading the paper when you finally are fed up. He always liked reading the actual newspaper, claims there's nothing quite as good but you’re tired of… well, you’re not sure what you were tired of but you knew you needed his attention asap before you lost your marbles for good. You walk over to him, moving the newspaper carefully out of his hands and folding it before sitting across his lap and crossing your arms. Spencer laughs loudly, especially as you take his arms and wrap them around your waist. Spencer just gives you a quirked eyebrow, a questioning look. You shake your head, because you’re honestly kind of unsure for what you’re asking for - you just wanted something. Dick, maybe. 

You give Spencer a look as you take his chain around your fingers again and play with it’s pendant. He already knows why you’re here, but he decides to let you figure it out. He knew before that you were the submissive type, but his response to that changed in prison. He carried that picture of you with him everyday, looked at it for hours sometimes so he could sleep - and it pissed him off when people would see it and talk about you. Spencer missed a lot of things outside of jail but you were number one - your love and affection of course, but there were other things too. Prison made Spencer particular about his possessions, that picture of you was one of the few things that was his and his alone. He didn’t let anyone go as far as touch that picture, so when he saw you again that possession just carried over. He didn’t really care, especially since it didn’t seem to bother you. Prison made Spencer realize how much he really cared for his possessions, books, chess boards, you - all things he already cared about but became a lot more particular after the fact. 

Spencer just knows. When you sit on his lap, all he can picture is him out in the yard but instead of isolated and paranoid, he’s with you by his side giving him all the restraint in the world. He’d be damned if he let anyone take that from him. You give Spencer a look he can’t explain, there's a certain innocence written on your face that makes Spencer's chest hot. His hand sits between your bare thigh as you sit on his lap, and the second you look down on it, you seem to get the clue. Spencer grips your thigh, eyes following the way yours move to try and make sense of what's happening. Your eyes are fluttery, as your head twists to meet Spencers, the two of you nose to nose. Spencer just gives you a smile, before looking down at your lips then right back up to you. You blush. 

“You’re close,” you say, not knowing what else to do. Spencer chuckles. 

“Would you like me to move?,” Spencer asks politely. You shake your head. 

“No,” you say stubbornly. Spencer licks his lips for a second before smiling again. 

“Okay. Then, what would you like me to do?,” Spencer says, holding back a laugh. Your eyes fixate on his lips when he talks, and you scrunch your face up. 

“Kiss me,” you mumble. Spencer grins ear to ear. 

“Say please,” Spencer replies, leaning in as his lips brush onto yours. He pulls away before you can kiss and you sigh. 

“Please,” you manage out meekly. 

Spencer pushes air out of his nose before he does just that. His lips are smooth, stubble touching your smooth skin as your hand moves to one side of his face. Spencer smiles into the kiss, feeling the way you melt into him. The moments before things get heated is fast, Spencer's hands underneath your shirt as his tongue slides between your lips. He kisses you slowly, patiently but that’s not quite what you want. You give him a whine, but he shows the same attitude. You keep kissing like that for a while, moving yourself to straddling Spencer's lap before using your teeth to lightly tug on Spencer's bottom lip. He gives you a small groan and you return it with a noise of approval. Spencer pulls back to look at you, his eyes telling you to be careful but his body language betraying him. You can feel the tent in Spencer pants as you weigh yourself down on his lap. 

“Don’t hold back,” you ask, hoping it’s the right thing. Spencer gives you a weary look. 

“Are you sure?'' Spencer asks. You nod, eyes looking into his. 

“Red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for go,” you say repeating your safewords to him. Spencer gives you a kiss on the forehead, both for remembering your safeword but as an assurance. He’d never really been rough with you - he was a soft dom at heart and wouldn’t go as far as hurting you. You just give him a pleading look - you wanted him to be rough with you, bruise and mark you, just for a little while. The idea made your skin flush, but who was Spencer to deny you of such a request. Spencer nods softly, leading you to the bedroom. 

Spencers the first to close the door, pushing you up against as he lifts one of your legs up and kisses you slowly - fingers pressing into your thighs as Spencers tongue toys with yours. He always kisses you like that, slowly but surely introducing as much of himself to you as possible - his erections pressed against you when he does. The sound that leaves your mouth is a cross between a whimper and a moan - a broken sound that makes Spencer a little more eager. He smiles when you make, giving you a look of surprise but you don’t have anything to say. Spencer smiles down at you. 

“Go lay down for me,” Spencer requests. You just nod as you get comfortable on the bed - watching Spencer take off his grey sweatpants and boxers, the chain still around his neck. Your eyes follow his figure, landing on his erection before widening. Spencer just chuckles at you - signalling for you to take your shirt off which you do with no question. You watch his eyes as the rack themselves over your figure, panties forbidding the rest of you from being on display. Spencer walks towards the bed, pulling your legs over the edge as he kneels between them. You yelp at the sudden move, but quickly settle up again. 

One thing is for certain, Spencer always wants to make you feel good first. It didn’t really matter what headspace he was in - whether or not he was super dominant like he was today or if he was super submissive like he was when he was stressed. His touch is careful, your legs over his shoulders pull him closer instinctively but he doesn’t seem to mind. He merely pushes your panties to the side before he eats you out, kissing your clit to be gentlemanly. His tongue is careful at first, experimental lickes before he lays his tongue flat - with a soft rhythm, slowly increasing his pace to your pleasure. He gets you close like that, pausing for a few seconds on moving before sucking softly on you, making you twitch your legs. Spencers careful about this part, his speed only testament to how much he can push you, the knot in your stomach carefully being undone as Spencer continues. 

“Can I cum, please?,” your voice scrapes the surface as you ask. Spencer is busied with his mouth but he hums - feeling you unravel as your orgasm hits you with astonishing impact. Spencer feels the way you pulsate on his tongue, humming again so you feel that little vibration that sends your hands in Spencer's hair to pull you off. You’re trying to catch your breath as you finish, Spencer still adamantly eating you - making your body shiver with pleasure. He holds your hips down for a few minutes like that. You don’t really want to argue with him but you’re unsure how much you can handle as he makes you cum for the second time, a small wave of pleasure brushing against your spine as cum for the second time. When Spencer pulls away from you, orgasm covers his lips and manages to get onto his stubble. He gives you a light smile as he leans up to kiss you, hands holding your thighs as he does. You can taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Do you think you can handle letting me fuck your throat?,Spencer asks. You give him a look of surprise, trying to remember if you still had any cough drops before nodding - more than eager to let him do that if that's what he wanted to do. You just nod, ready to get on your knees before Spencer stops you in your tracks. 

“I wanted to do it while you were laying down, you know,” Spencer says, voice unsure. You’re surprised but you just shrug, laying down, your head back on the edge of the bed.  It weird to see everything upside down like this, so you just shut your eyes and open your mouth up. Spencers cock twitches at the site of you laid back for him like this, pushing past your lips a lips a bit, feeling your tongue along his tip. You pat Spencers leg, letting him know you were comfortable to let him go further, feeling his length push past your throat. You let your throat relax, gripping your thumb as Spencer buries himself nearly fully in you. His fingers find the column of your neck, brushing the bulge in your throat which makes it hard for him to contain himself. Spencers fucks your throat slowly, carefully not to push you too hard even though you were more than ready for it. You steadied yourself, the other hand in your underwear rubbing your clit to the feeling Spencer fucking you like this. 

“You’re so pretty with me down your throat like this,” Spencer comments. You moan around his length, letting him know he’s free to continue. 

“Prison made me think of all the things I could be doing to you, fucking you like you were the only thing I thought about all day. Maybe because you were,” Spencer laughs when he speaks, his hands reaching down to toy with your nipples, his fingers carefully twisting them, relishing the way you writhe under his touch. You tighten your throat around Spencers length causing him to jerk into your throat - sorta how you planned for this to go anyway. Spencers expression changes as he watches you take all of him in, his hand lightly around your neck, maybe too turned on by how the air leaves your lungs. When you pull out, spit covers your face and chin - but you just give Spencer a thumbs up and a smile, not phased at all. Spencer didn’t think he could be anymore in love with a person, yet here he was. 

Spencer helps you sit back up, sitting for a few moments to readjust to the world around you. Spencer cups your jaw, pulling your face to look at him - giving you the most adoring eyes like you didn’t just take his dick all the way down your throat, well that may be the reason why. Spencer  leans down to kiss your forehead, hands around the base of your neck as he does. 

“Good girl,” Spencers use of that phrase is spare, only using it when he really meant it. It fills you with a certain intensity you weren’t expecting, your throat already a little sore from the endeavor. You give Spencer a small hum of approval. 

“Thank you, Sir,” The honorific makes Spencer's heart ache. Spencer was a soft dom, which mostly meant that in bed you called him by his name. Sir was a sometimes thing, like when he got rough on the occasion. Sir was earned, just liked good girl was. 

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty girl,” Spencer asks. You do as you're told, arching your back completely for Spencer without questions. Spencer admires you, running your hands over the curves of your body, admiring the little wet spot that forms on your slit for him, cum running down your legs. Spencer wanted to fuck the shit out of you, wanted to see his cum spill out of you - as filthy as the thought was. You’d always talked about letting him go raw but Spencer was normally too cautious. You getting pregnant was much less of a consequence these days, like if anyone were to carry his baby into the world it’d be you and no one else. 

If anyone got to fuck you like that, it needed to be him and no one else. That was one thing Spencer knew was so different. Spencer needed to fuck you like that, raw and shameless just like only he could. Spencers fingers are too curious for his own good, one hand around your waist to play with your clit, and the other posing two fingers inside of you - brushing up against your gspot with ease. You shudder under Spencers touch, getting fingered from the back like this wasn’t what you were expecting but you weren’t upset about it. Spencers voice is warm in your ear. 

“You’re gonna have to cum one more time before I even think about fucking you,” Spencer warns. You just nod, chewing your lip as Spencer pads his fingers along you, curling them up for you to feel. He stretches you out comfortably like that, and you’re unable to really think clearly. His mouth works on your neck, biting hickies onto your throat as he does. The bruises are red and pulsating, the dark marks only bound to get darker and more visible as the days pass. Not that Spencer minded, though you did. It was a worry for later though, of course. You cum around Spencer's fingers again, unable to comprehend the level of exhaustion that seemed to come over. Still, you’d be damned if Spencer didn’t fuck you senseless. You tighten around Spencers fingers. 

“Spencer, fuck - please, please,” the begging has no particulars. It’s never for anything, instead a mindless response to Spencer and his ability to turn you on this much, to the point it was all you thought about. You were exhausted but all you wanted was for him to cum inside you and make you feel so pliable. You always were, for him anyways. 

“Sir - fuck me raw, please,” that last plea was a demand. Spencer groaned into your neck, nodding lightly, no response to your request. His fingers burned bruises into your waist, gripping on to you like he was gonna lose you if he didn’t. That feeling comes at you so quickly you can barely make sense of it, Spencers hands rhythmic in their ability as you convulse, cumming around Spencers calloused fingers and feeling every inch of them in you. You whine in disappointment when he pulls out. He just chuckles, taking his fingers and slipping them between your lips and down the back of your throat. You don’t choke, unsurprising to Spencer really. Saliva coats his fingers which he smears across your lips, just degrading enough for you to giggle. 

“Lay on your back from me, I wanna see you,” Spencer doesn’t need to finish his sentence to say that he wants to see how his cum fills you up, such a pretty sight it doesn’t need any words for description. 

You lay down, waiting for Spencer who doesn’t wait to get on top of you. That’s when you catch it again - his fucking chain. His name around your neck, hickies from you around his neck just like your name was. Spencer gets on top of you, chain hanging from around neck and all you can think is how fucking badly you needed this man inside of you. The way he had you, feeling this possessive over him made you fucking insane. You knew he’d always keep that chain on, like you were always hanging around his neck anyways but you needed to do more. You wanted to scratch his back up, steal his soul when you gave him head - everything, you wanted to do everything for that man. When he fucks you and you feel all 7inches, stretching you out - cumming inside you like he owned you because he did. So carelessly fucking you, making you cry out his name and now he had your name hanging around his neck. You’d be damned if another person even got near him. 

“Say my name when you fuck me,” you request. Spencer groans, slowly doing just as he promised, hitting your cervix before bringing his hips up - ready to fuck the daylights out of you with no question. Your eyes fixated on the jewelry that adorned him as he pounded into you, your voice totally lost to you as you feel his cock pulsate inside of you. He was relentless, the sound of his hips making contact with your backside filling the room with such a filthy sound. It was filthy the way Spencer fucked you. He leans down to you, his chain resting on your chest as he hands move to the side of your face. He wants to hit you, call you his pretty slut before he fills you with his cum. You just flutter your lashes and before he can ask. 

“Green,” 

Spencer's hands hit the side of your face roughly, the stinging sensation rather pleasing in all reality. Spencer's voice is low, an octave lower and hoarse as he pounds you out like it was nothing. 

“You’re such a good slut for me, aren’t you baby? Taking all of me in, like it’s easy. What were you doing while I was gone? Bet you were getting ready for me do this to you, weren’t you. Did any of those toys you used feel as good as me,” Spencers words are callous, and degrading but you loved every second of it. You shake your head. 

“Nothing was as good as you,” your response was forced out. Spencer laughs, voice tinged with something dark. 

“Nothing,” Spencer pushes his hips as far as he can, making you cry out as he reached the edge “Nothing ever will be,” Spencer finished

You tighten yourself around Spencer, looping your legs around his waist to make sure all of him shoots inside you. He finishes with a loud groan, fucking the cum into you a last few times before pulling out. You’re more turned on than you know what to do with so you loop your fingers in Spencer's chain and kiss him, wet and sloppy as he finishes. He presses his forehead to yours as he kisses you, eyes locking with yours as the both you stare at eachother in euphoric post sex glow. Spencer breaks out into a giggle as he comes down, falling into you when he pulls out and you do the same. 

“All this because of a chain?,Spencer asks. You just nod, placing a kiss in Spencers messy hair before sighing. 

“If you ever date anyone else, I’ll be the person in prison,” you say stubbornly. Spencer just laughs a little bit more, the two of you lying comfortably as Spencer places kisses over some of the hickies he left. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, love,”

----

taglist:  @cynbx​ @zephyr-studiesjp​ @skrrrrrrrrrrt​ @reid-187​ @louistwinslover​ @pastanest​ @nomajdetective​ @iamburdened 

[caswellprmanager]

YO UM OKAY INITIAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE BELOW THE CUT

PORTWELL NATION WE WON TODAY

Also jack is the kind of guy i'd definitely want to be stuck in an airport with

nini finally took off the guitar pick necklace and i am officially deceased and dead rip rini im so sorry

i actually really enjoyed the scenes with ricky and his mom ! the very subtle moments like ricky flinching away when his mom tries to touch him and then him blurting out that what she did on opening night was seriously not okay felt very organic and real. big props to joshua for portraying the nuances that comes with loving a parent just as lowkey emotionally stunted as you and not knowing how to navigate everything until it bursts at the seems

the east high insta vid was cute. love the transitions and all of the cute ej moments in them ❤️

SPEAKING OF EJ

EJ WAS SO FUCKIN ADORABLE THIS EPISODE I CANT DEAL WITH IT!! him going "hi nini! :D" with the doll's voice and then him slowly inching in a Sock Puppet on screen. why is he literally so cute. EJ going back to just being a little kid having fun was the highlight of this episode and I will cherish those few seconds of EJ just being the cutest human on this planet

THE DUKE SWEATSHIRT YALL WE REALLY CALLED IT HUH WE REALLY DID also the final shot of gina just looking at EJ at the end and u can just see her finally putting the pieces together that maybe the one guy who will come around and stay is EJ uGH MISS GINA U DESERVE HAPPINESS AND THE ONE PERSON (besides jack) WHO HAS BEEN MAKING YOU HAPPY IS EJ HELLO

ricky's song was beautiful honestly. the "tear down the treehouse and forget about the fantasy" lyric broke me thank u very much i will see u all in therapy

and as much as i hated ricky's mom in s1 i can rly see she is Trying to make amends. but i can see exactly where Ricky gets his most notable traits from. lynne is just about as emotionally challenged as ricky. she also runs away from problems. this time both of them ran towards each other and actually met halfway. and i really hope there's more of lynne really making more of an effort to be a mom for ricky

ricky move to chicago season 3 i want to manifest this so bad

i wasnt a fan of the rest of the editing in this episode tho. i know this was filmed at the height of covid probably but the editing and direction was a bit lacking for me this ep.

also nini that was the shortest fucking ig live ive ever seen that could have been a short video on ur insta feed cmon now ur 16 not 66

ricky and lynne switched hair colors this season and idk if that symbolizes smth but 👀👀👀

caswell cousin interaction 😭 it was fleeting but oh so charming. ej literally being a little kid and roping ashlyn into playing their old stuff together is so so cute. i wish they showed them bonding outside of the video calls. like maybe ashlyn and ej talk about what ej is gonna do for college

speaking of... what happened with cash... am i rly supposed to just find out NEXT WEEK??? i wanna know NOW wtf u cant end ep 8 with ej confronting his dad and then nOT TALK ABOUT HIS DAD THE NEXT EP I HATE YOU TIM FEDERLE

anw thats it for now. feel free to talk to me in my inbox or ask me about how i feel about other elements of the episode !

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Courting Doc Scurlock

(My bad gif)(Requested by @that80sslytherin )

(Why is everyone in this movie so damn attractive. Even the dirty rat boy is hot.)

- If the story ain’t broke then why fix it? You first meet Doc during the towns New Years Eve party. You’d been standing off to the side with your friends when he first laid eyes on you, or rather on what he thought was the closest thing to an  earthbound angel that he’d ever seen. 

- He immediately decided that he needed to get to know you so he walked over, introduced himself and asked your friends if he could steal you away for a dance. 

- Doc gets kind of awkward when hes in the presence of a pretty girl. He stumbles over his words, blurts things out, laughs nervously; for a rough and tough cowboy he’s pretty adorable.

- While you dance he tries to make conversation, asking you questions and complimenting you. He recites some poetry and confesses that he’s a poet himself both in an attempt to impress you and because he can’t resist doing so when there’s something so breathtaking in front of him.

- All it took was one dance and you were hooked. How could you not be?

- When you finished your dance (or several dances), he kissed your hand and said that he’d like to speak with you again. You told him where to reach you and made your way back to your giggling friends, leaving him smiling and lovestruck.

- For the next few weeks he sends you letters full of poetry and pressed flowers. Every letter you send back makes him fall deeper in love with you. He reads them over and over, savoring every curve of your writing and the scent of your perfume on the pages.

- He’s definitely snuck into your room late at night so that he could see and talk to you. A lot of the time he’s working during the day so you don’t have a lot of time to see each other.

- Whenever he can get away from the ranch he comes to visit you and takes you on walks, horse rides, whatever he can think of that you’d like. It isn’t long before everyone in town knows that you’re his sweetheart.

- It’s the Old West so it probably isn’t long before he attempts to convince your father to give him his blessing to marry you. It was custom back then, nearly everyone married quickly.

- Regardless of that, your first kiss happened a little ways into your relationship. The two of you had rode your horses out of town together and were resting on a rock, enjoying each other’s company on one of your many dates.

- The sun had begun to set so the two of you were getting ready to head back into town. That was when he turned you around, moved his hands to your face and slowly leaned in, connecting your lips.

- Who knew that one kiss would lead to a lifelong addiction to each other.

- The two of you are inseparable and that’s just a fact. There’s no way a man that falls so deeply in love with a woman so quickly could not want to be by her side 24/7.

- Whenever the gangs together somewhere he’s always seen sitting down so you probably do a lot of sitting in his lap.

- All the regulators are touch starved and I refuse to believe anything else. So on that note~ Doc adores having you close to him and showing him affection.

- He melts when you touch his hair. You can literally see the love for you in his eyes whenever you do.

- Hairline and forehead kisses.

- Helping take care of his hand injury.

- Soft caresses.

- Soooo many compliments and sweet affirmations.

- Docs a poet. He’ll recite and write poetry for you (Some may not actually be his writing but you don’t have to know that).

- Your home has at least one bouquet of flowers in it at any given moment because he’s always picking them for you. Little by little the beautiful things invade your life.

- Every night he holds you close to him, your head resting on his chest as you fall asleep listening to his heartbeat. He’ll hold your hand and wrap his other arm around you while you curl into his side.

- He glances over at you with a smile on his face as he gets ready for work in the morning. He always kisses your temple before he goes.

- Slow kisses. He likes to press his forehead against yours when the two of you part.

- Going to town socials together and dancing the night away.

- The regulators have and will continue to tease him about the way he is with you. He just calls them jealous and says that once they find themselves a woman like you they’ll understand.

- Doc isn’t a particularly jealous guy unless he has a reason to be. Even so, whenever he does get jealous he never blames you. It will always be the guy he’s jealous of’s fault because he trusts you. In his eyes the two of you are made for each other, you’d have no reason to (purposefully) flirt with another man.

- When he’s jealous, he has no problem interrupting whoever is bothering him and taking you away from the situation. He’ll usually give you a hard kiss after you’ve left to calm himself down.

- Riding on the back of his horse. He loves feeling your arms wrapped around him and turning back to see the smile on your face.

- Going for long walks together, often they’re very scenic and away from town so you aren’t bothered by anyone.

- He always likes keeping you close when you’re out together. He’ll keep a protective arm wrapped around your back or his hand in yours.

- I have a feeling Doc would like going to the theater whenever he could so the two of you have been to quite a few shows together over the years.

- Speaking of theater~ I can see the two of you taking turns acting out parts of Shakespeare plays in your living room or bedroom. He’d take the male roles and you’d take the female ones, or sometimes if you wanted to have a laugh you’d switch.

- Need something to help you relax? How about a hot bath and a handsome man sitting on the edge of your tub?

- He loves being able to come home from work everyday and be greeted by your sweet face.

- None of the regulators are going to pass up a massage from a pretty girl, that’s all I’m gonna say about that. (I lied. They also wouldn’t pass up giving one either because well that’s pretty erotic for ye olden days)

- He uses quite a few nicknames and terms of endearment for you. Things like: my love, darlin, and my flower just to name a few.

- He’ll read the newspaper to you or a chapter of a book while you’re sitting together eating breakfast.

- Doc is pretty progressive compared to most men living in the same era as him. He loves you no matter where you came from or what you’ve done in the past and he’ll treat you with the respect you deserve.

- He used to have a pretty bad life so he’s glad to make new memories with you.

- Assuring him that he isn’t a bad person for his actions.

- If you want Doc you’re gonna have to deal with quite a few scary situations no matter how much he tries to keep you away from them. You’ll definitely be shot at at least once.

- Get used to seeing blood because this man always manages to be sprayed with it or get some on him in some way.

- He tries his best to deescalate situations and break the tense atmosphere thats in the room. He’s usually pretty good at calming you down whenever something ticks you off.

- Tries to lighten the mood and make you feel more comfortable. He never wants you to be wary around him.

“You have a big gun.” “It’s a big town.”

- He always reassures you when you’re feeling insecure.

- It breaks his heart to see you upset especially if he’s the one who (accidentally) caused it.

- Fights rarely ever happen in your relationship but whenever they do they never last very long. It takes a whole of two-five minutes for your issues to be resolved. There’s usually a quick burst of anger followed by a feeling of guilt.

- Although rare, whenever he snaps at you he feels bad almost immediately after and is quick to apologize. You may be a bit more stubborn than he is but you have to admit that it’s hard to stay mad at him.

- He always knows just what to say and it’s always the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard.

“Necessary is something you can’t do without and I can’t do without you.”

- Docs incredibly protective of you especially after everything that’s happened in his life. You’re the only thing he truly loves and can call his own. He doesn’t even want to think about you getting hurt.

- He’s more than ready to kill for you. God forbid somebody put you in danger or tried to do something to you, he’d be blown away in half a second.

- You ever wanted to be rescued and taken away from somewhere? Well you’ve found a man whose more than willing to be your knight in shining armor. All you have to do is ask and you’ll be towns away by nightfall.

- Every woman in town/that you know wants to have/find a relationship like yours.

- Being around each other never gets old. You could be married for years and he’d still look at you like it’s the day he first met you.

- God is he in love with you. Never in your life have you ever felt so cared about and adored. Everything he does and says shows you just how much he’s hopelessly devoted to you. You couldn’t have asked for a better man.

[cosmiclatte28]

Over Cups of Coffees (Sehun x reader)

warning : fluff! flirty sehun! 

enjoy! 

"One ice Americano," the tall guy with ominous aura places his order, for a second the café suddenly feels frozen. He looks and sounds cold, but once he steps into the counter in front of you, you feel the blazing sun of summer, the cute shy smile, and a gentle stare.

"One Americano, less ice?" you question him even when you remember his order nicely in the back of your mind.

The man across you smiles, "You remember?"

You smirk, deep inside your heart you wonder how one could forget if thats the only thing he orders in every single visit.

You take his card, swipe the bill, and rush to brew his cold coffee.

Ever since the cold and hot man enters that door last week, you quickly fell for his demeanor aura. You learn his name when he ordered his first cup of coffee in a bubble tea shop. Though you find it weird why he bought coffee when you guys are known for bubble teas, you did not reject his orders; you even wished with all your heart he will be a regular here.

"One ice Americano coffee to go, for Mr. Sehun," you scream out his name, and when he walks to take the bag, your hand swiftly drops in a piece of cookie inside the paper bag. He saw you and almost say you misplaced an order, but your whisper silence him.

"Its a complementary," You panicked, "Special for the customer who has the queuing number 100."

You see him smile and you hear your coworker stifling a laugh.

"Thank you," Sehun smiles and nods his head as he takes his order, "Thank you, see you!"

He leaves the counter with his expressionless face and your shift continues. You take more orders from other customers.

One of your coworker nudges you when the rush hour is over, and the café is a bit empty. "What was that, did you put in your number on the cookie earlier?" the elf-eared tall man teases you.

You blush, when your mind teases you back with the phrase Sehun said before he left.

"Stop it Chanyeol, I did not drop my number in it. Seriously, I just wanted to treat him a cookie, whats wrong with it?" You shrug your shoulder and choose to leave to take a short break. Well, secretly you scream out of joy when you reach the storage room. Sehun, the man who creates butterflies in your stomach is slowly recognizing you.

The next day, your shift starts and as time ticks by, your heart beats faster as you expect the presence of Sehun. He shows up in his regular time, with his regular cold face just that today he looks a bit tired and annoyed. You pull up your textbook-smile and try your best to control your heating face.

"Welcome, Is it another usual menu, or are you interested in trying todays special menu?" You flash a concern look to him. He catches your attention and runs his eyes through the menu. He sighs and inserts his hands into his pockets.

"Do you have any recommendation for a bad day?"

You nod in a second, "Are you okay with Chocolates?" he nods, you type in a menu and he seems to agree with what you call 'House favorite chocolate bomb bubble tea'

Sehun hands you his card and surprises you when he asks for a table number. He brings his number and sits on the corner, the secluded chair near the windows.

You are quite surprise, he never dines inside. With a question mark in your mind, you prepare his drink and once again sneak in another slice of red velvet cake. Chanyeol catches you again and smiles widely while wriggling his brow, "Go, and take that order to his table. Let me take over the cashier and orders."

You thank him and after tidying your appearance, you deliver the drink and cake to the man sitting alone and lost in his thoughts.

"Here's your drink, and I bring you a cake to cheer you up." You move the drink and cake from your tray to his table.

Sehun's cold façade melts away when he sees the red cake and your sweet attention, "Wow! Am I the 100th customer again today?" He laughs at his own words. You feel like melting into a puddle right then and there.

He takes his time enjoying the cake and reviving his mood with your special brew, you are once again busy behind the counter and running over making different orders of drinks. You can still see Sehun from several quick glances, and that is enough to make you energized until your shift end.

After 10 minutes, the tall man in suit fleets from his chair and queue into the line in front of me. You are perplexed when he shows up again with his shy smile,"I'm here to pay the red velvet and I want the cookies you gave me yesterday. I want two of them, all packed to go." You swipe his payment only for the cookies, the red velvet is from you.

"For someone?" You ask when you take out two fresh baked cookies and wrap them nicely inside a bag.

Sehun shakes his head, "It's for me, and Im working overnight today. The cookies will be my acquaintance tonight."

"Have strength! Good luck," you send him off with a wave of hand.

Thats the last time you ever see him. For a good one week, you never see his nose. Chanyeol teases you repeatedly for waiting and hoping like a fool, but you shush him off. One week feels like a month and the nosey customers really drain your energy.

One night when Chanyeol is already mopping the floor and you're already turning over the chairs, the door opens and a young man in a tidy suit surprises both of you. Chanyeol glances at the door sign; it clearly is turned over already, why is he here.

"Sorry, are you closed already?" the man you missed for one week questions the two of you.

You quickly leave your current work and take over the counter, "No, we can make it work for you. We still have 5 minutes to the closing hour, but feel free to take your time."

"Usual order?" You ask while turning on the brewer and cashier, Sehun nods then take a seat at one of the table you haven't turn over.

Chanyeol bids you goodbye after his mopping is done, and you're left alone with Sehun.

"Please make yourself a drink, can you sit with me for a while tonight? Drinks are on me." he sounds hopeful.

You take his invitation, making yourself a cup of warm coffee. You carry the dark liquids and a plate of cake from the storage.

You take your seat across him, he has his coat off already and he looks breathtaking in his white shirt and loosen tie. He is busy with his cold drink, and you preoccupied your nerves with the warm caffeine. Your heart is almost bursting out of joy, here in front of you the man you crushed, you finally get the chance to sit alone with him only. You don't care what your boss will do to you, if he ever finds out about this.

Sehun picks the fork and pokes the cake, "What is this?"

You snap from your daydream, "Oh, thats a new menu. A rainbow cake, were going to release them tomorrow." He raises his brow in curiosity,

"Each color has different flavor. Please try them." You look at him expectantly when he takes the red part into his mouth. He savors the taste, munches, pokes into the next color, tastes them and when he reaches the 7th color he finally makes his comment.

"Hmm it's cool, a nice idea! It also tastes good. I am sure buying this again." Sehun's eyes brighten and he gulps down his coffee to clean his palettes.

"(y/n)," Sehun surprises you by calling your name. You almost ask where did he learn your name, but you realize you wear name tags every day. "Thank you for opening the café for me, and thank you for sitting here with me tonight."

You shake your head and hands, "No, it's not a problem Sehun. Besides, I can probably help you if you need someone to talk and share stories too. Only if you're willing too," You panicked.

Sehun thinks for a quick second and smirk, "You're probably right. I need to share what's bothering my mind. Great idea!"

It sure is a great idea for Sehun, but not for you. Sehun has just finished his story about his break up with his so called girlfriend he loved dearly. You are actually surprised to find out he has been dating for one year and got dumped last week, because poor Sehun caught her kissing another man in the park. She chose the other guy over him. Sehun concludes that he's now traumatized and he will be staying away from falling in love for a moment. He is hurt, and he doesnt want to fall in love now.

You made a mental note about this, and continue to talk about more things. As the night deepens, the cake vanished, and the coffees finished, you learn each others hobbies and favorite singers.

Sehun helps you clean up the table and turning over the chair. He drops in extra tips into the jar, then he waits for you outside as you turn off all of the machines, lights, and lock the door.

"Thank you for listening to me tonight," Sehun bashfully looks into his shoes.

"Its nothing big, Im happy if youre feeling better now. So, good night Sehun," you wave your hand to him when your bus arrives. He waves his hand back at you and descends into his car.

After that night, you remember his words where he did not want to fall in love yet. That morning, you ensure your heart that the feeling must stop. You ask Chanyeol to switch with you and take over the cashier. You choose to work in the kitchen with your other coworker, Baekhyun. You're not going to fall more into Sehun, no you need to stop before you hurt yourself.

You tell Baekhyun why you're here now and the cheerful man just pats your back, "Aw, you're burying a feeling. It's okay you still have me and Chanyeol. We're both still free and available for blind dates." He winks and succeeds in cheering you up.

Weeks passed by, you work in nice union with Baekhyun baking cakes, and preparing bobas. Your life is bright again even without seeing Sehun, until one day Chanyeol barges into the kitchen and smirks, "(y/n), he's here and he wants to see you. I can't hold it anymore, I've been telling him lies that you're not here anymore, but turns out he saw you and he wants to see you!" today.

"Who?" Baekhyun asks

You freeze in your place, is it really the same man you're thinking of?

Chanyeol sees your reaction, "You want me to shoo him off?"

You shake your head, Chanyeol suddenly remembers something, "Ah yeah, he told me to tell you this. He's ready to try it again. I don't know what he means but he told me to deliver that message to you." Your eyes widen and you turn your body to exit the kitchen door, leaving the two men puzzled.

You quickly run your eyes through the customers inside the small café, but he's not there. Your eyes catch him leaving the door with a glass of Americano in his right hand and a small pack of cookies on his left.

You did not meet him yet, but you know when you will see him again.

Thats right, tomorrow.

The last rays of sun lights are slowly fading off, the sky is beautifully painted orange and purple. You tighten the apron over your waist and with the textbook smile youre taking in orders and payments once again.

"Good afternoon, what can I help you with? Maybe a special menu today? Rainbow bubble tea made especially for you." You wink at the man in front of your cashier counter.

He chuckles, "I'd take that as a yes, if you're going to sit with me in that table at the corner."

You blush and punch in his order, "That means youre having Americano today, because I am not free until my shift ends at 9."

He glances at his watch, "Three hours is nothing compared to a week. Please add a slice of rainbow cake too! I am waiting for my date until 9 tonight." He offers you his deadly smile, and you cannot feel your legs.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun heard everything, when Sehun goes away to his chair; the two men take their cue to mess with you.

"What do you want for a drink? Let me prepare it for you." Chanyeol takes over the cup in my hand and makes the order.

"Of course strawberry boba, right?" Baekhyun winks and walks to take a slice of rainbow cake and cheese cake.

"You love my cheese cakes right? Now, go sit with him and we will take over your part." Baekhyun unties your apron and pushes you to Sehun's table direction.

What? you're surprised with the sudden situation.

"Go get your love, good luck!" the two men unite and push you into his direction. Sehun turns his head and sees you walking to him. He smiles and gets up to pull out your chair.

"Guess this is it, I don't have to wait for three hours by myself, and my date is here already."

[smileyparkersmiley]

jealousy looks good on you, t.h

a/n: Hey guys and thank you so much for the support on the last post, I’m glad you seemed to enjoy it. I have wanted to write a jealous Tom fic for a while and I hope you all enjoy this one as well. Remember my requests are open if there is anything specific you want me to write about for either Tom or Peter I would love to give it a go!

words: 1.9k

genre: jealous tom and fluff throughout

I like to think of myself as a simple woman, I like to say that I don't need a lot of things to make me happy, and right now all I needed was my boyfriend, some salty popcorn and a Netflix film. But tonight thats not on the agenda as its Toms mums birthday, she was turning 51 and Dom was throwing her a little surprise party, and when I say little I mean not so little. Tom managed to fly over from LA as there was a gap in his schedule in-between his press tours for Onward so he's able to surprise his mum on her birthday. He's here for the whole week and I’m happy to have him home as it’s been about a month since I've last seen him, and the withdrawal symptoms were kicking in.

As much as I adore Toms mum Nicki, I couldn't help but feel selfish and want to keep Tom all to myself for the night considering his flight only landed this afternoon and I only got a few hours alone with him before I will have to share him with countless strangers. Tom as well being extremely tired from his flight just wanted to sleep and cuddle up on the sofa which is what our afternoon consisted of until I dragged him upstairs to have a shower and freshen up for the main event.

‘Come on love go and freshen yourself up I don't think your mum would appreciate you stinking up her house after being on a 10 hour flight’ I tease, whilst tugging on his hand to get his body up the stairs to get ready, the last thing we need is to be late.

He pulls his bodyweight up and is standing directly in front of me now with a gentle grip on both of my hands

‘If it means everyone has to leave and its just me and you then I might just take that risk and skip the shower all together’ He smirks, I slap his arm gently scolding him

‘You’re so cheesy, now get your arse up the stars’

Toms shower was running and I could hear him singing away to a song I couldn't quite figure out because he doesn't like people hearing him sing, thats why he sings in the shower he thinks his voice goes unheard, however, though its muffled its still enough to cause a smile to creep onto my lips as a think about how much I’ve missed hearing him around the flat these past few weeks and how grateful I am that he's home.

The shower switches off and I pick up my outfit and a couple pieces of jewellery that I’ve chosen to compliment the look into mine and Toms shared bathroom, he's out of the shower I’m sure he won't mind me coming in to get showered, it's not like I haven't seen anything before.

I’ve had my shower and gotten dressed I haven't seen Tom dressed and I’m not too sure what he's planning on wearing, I was half way through my makeup when the bathroom door opens suddenly.

‘Oh wow, it feels like every time I lay my eyes on you you get more and more beautiful’

Toms eyes were wide and were sweetly scanning my body up and down in admiration taking his time to cherish every part of my body. My cheeks immediately flushed and I got nervous, no matter how long me and Tom have been together I will never get used to his compliments and the way he looks at me. He could sense my vulnerability in this moment and came over and pressed a kiss to my cheek, which only increased the blood flow to my cheeks even more. I looked at him in the mirror and it was my turn to admire. He was wearing black well fitted jeans with a white shirt and was holding a leather jacket in his arms which I'm assuming he's come to ask for my opinion on wearing it. He's so close I can smell his cologne, a scent I didnt realise I missed so much until it was taken away from me, his arms and chest fit well in his shirt which he has grown into slightly and his short hair was perfectly gelled and I was finding it hard to resist the urge to run my hands through it.

Tom noticed I was staring and his cheeks were now matching with mine, he wraps his arms around my waist and rests his head on my shoulder and watches me in the mirror, I lean into his touch.

‘Can I help you?’ I ask as he continues to just look at me with interest despite me doing anything interesting in the slightest.

‘Carry on doing your makeup I love watching you, its just so interesting to me’

I don't completely understand his thought processes but I nod and carry on as I was making him smile whilst watching me blend my neutral eyeshadow. He watches me blend that eye and removes me from his hold and goes to leave the bathroom, I stop him just before as I take a light grip on his hand, he looks at his hand then up at me

‘I forgot to say, thank you and you too look very beautiful tonight’ I tell him and see his eyes light up at my compliment.

‘Thank you darling’ and with that he places a light peck on my lips leaving me to continue getting ready, with enough adrenaline coursing through my blood to keep me on a high for the whole evening.

We arrive at the party, there were lots of people here scratch 50 people there were at least 70 easily, the Hollands knew a lot of people. Me and Tom went and said hello to his brothers, his dad and Harrison and we did the rounds of ‘how are you?’ and ‘I saw your latest film it was amazing’ a lot of the conversation just involved polite smiles and nods from me and Tom talking about his adventures on movie sets and film premieres.

Toms mum arrived, and was indeed very surprised and when her eyes landed on Tom the poor woman burst into tears as she scooped her eldest son up in a large hug as she was glad that he was able to get away from work to celebrate with her.

Me and Tom had a lovely conversation with her as she told us that she had a normal day at work and that Dominic said that he was going to take her out for dinner just them two because no one else was able to make it.

‘Its so lovely to see you too y/n, how have you been what have you been getting up to then?’

The conversation continued for a while until she was eventually pulled away by many of her friends who wanted to speak to her so me and Tom moved on.

Tom was having a conversation with a couple who I believed were friends of him mums when I noticed his glass was empty and was probably in need of another drink

‘Tom I’ll go and grab us another drink, I’ll be back in a moment’ Tom says thanks and hands me his glass with one hand and removes his grip from around my waist with the other.

I meander through the large groups of people to get to the bar where I order me and Tom new drinks, when this man who was in his early 20s approached me and sparked up a conversation. I was a bit taken aback at first but he seemed really nice and interesting. I love Toms work and I am incredibly proud of everything he does however it is nice to have a conversation be focused on you and what you do and not just your famous boyfriends films.

He told me his name was Jake and that his mum was a good friend of Nicki's and works with her thats why he was here, we must have stood by the bar for a while without realising as I saw Tom approaching with a confused look spread across his face.

As soon as he reaches my side his arm attaches itself to my hip again and he introduces himself to Jake.

‘Hi, I don't think that we have met before, I’m Tom y/ns girlfriend’ He holds out a hand to shake Jakes

‘Oh hey man I’m Jake’ Jake shakes Toms hand and looks down at his drink awkwardly as he doesn't know how to play his next moves. Tom turns himself now to look down at me

‘y/n, Harrison wants to come and have a catch up’ He then turns himself towards Jake

‘Do you mind if we just’ He gestures to somewhere behind him not bothering to see if Harrison is actually over there

I could sense the tension that Tom was creating, I know jealousy when I see it and especially if its on Tom, he wears his heart on his sleeve and you can read his emotions like a book, and I couldn't decide whether this look suited him or not.

‘No go ahead of course, I think my mum wants me to go over to her as well anyway so’ He awkwardly picks up his jacket from the stool he was sitting on and his drink

‘It was really nice talking to you y/n’ His eyes flash quickly at Tom and then to me but they don't linger for too long, he turns and walks away with no hesitation. That situation escalated quickly and Toms jealous side has emerged and theres no doubt that its going away too quickly.

‘So what did Harrison want to talk to us about?’ I play dumb knowing full well that Harrison didnt want to talk to us about anything, in fact we already spent an hour talking to him when we got here.

‘Oh yeah Harrison’ He says but he isn't looking at me he's looking straight ahead, his jaw is tightening and his brows are frowned, I’ve decided jealousy does look good on him, very good indeed.

‘Lets not stay for too much longer its getting late and I’m really tired’ He says turning to me softening slightly when he catches my eyes.

“yeah that sounds good to me, and Tom?’ I start to look forward to the prospect of cuddling Tom tonight, something I missed from the second he left, my body now craves to be intertwined with his at the thought of it.

‘Yeah?’ His brows now raised

‘You do know There was no flirting going on between me and Jake earlier we were literally just talking right?’ Tom doesn't look convinced however.

‘y/n he was clearly flirting with you, I saw the way he was looking at you and how he was touching his hair trying to make you swoon’ Toms eyes immediately went darker almost as something inside of him switched, he used his arms as he spoke because he was getting frustrated and his hair was starting to become floppy as a result of the gel loosing its touch. In short he was making it very difficult not to pounce on him there and then.

I grabbed on the the collar of his shirt to pull him closer to me, I whisper sensually in his ear.

‘Jealously looks good on you Tom, now take me home so I can do something about it’

[marveloussupernerd]

Baby Han - Jumin Han

I can’t believe the day is finally here. Happy birthday Jumin :)) here’s the last part of the pregnancy one-shot series !!!

Summary: Jumin is a very brave man for staying with you while you’re in labor.

You had been feeling mild contractions for the past 6 hours or so. Not bad enough that you couldn’t fight them off with distracting yourself with a bath or a walk or tv.

You had been in bed next to Jumin, watching tv when the pain increased. You grabbed his arm, needing to hold onto something as the pain overcame you, letting out a loud groan. “Are they getting stronger?” He asked excitedly, holding onto your hand as you fought through it.

“I’m glad you’re excited,” you whined, still holding a firm grip on his arm. Finally the pain had subsided, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Okay, so it’s not false contractions. You’re a few days earlier than we expected,” he commented calmly, looking at his watch. “I’ll call the doctor.”

“Okay, well no big deal yet. We have to track them for the next hour to make sure they’re actual contractions.”

“Great. I know exactly how we’ll pass the time.” He pulled out his phone and stepped out of bed, walking toward the doorway. His first call was to the doctor, checking in to tell him you had your first contraction. The second call, well you didn’t expect it.

“No, Assistant Kang, you don’t understand. I need you here right now. Yes, immediately. Drop everything you’re doing...” you had no clue what was the matter, but his voice was stern. Maybe he wanted a woman to be with you?

“Jaehee’s coming?” You asked. “I’m afraid I may scare her off.”

“She’s just going to help us pass the time. She won’t go to the hospital, unless you want her to.”

You stood up carefully, walking to the bathroom to grab your toothbrush so you could pack it in your hospital bag. “I know we haven’t discussed this yet, so are you thinking about being in the labor room, or sitting outside?” Of course you wanted him in there with you. Who wouldn’t? But it did fit the CEO in-line persona to sit outside and wait for news. You’d let him choose. Another wave of pain. You grabbed onto the counter this time to make your way through it. The good thing was your contractions weren’t too long at the moment, probably only 30-45 seconds. Still it felt like forever.

He was behind you in an instant, gently rubbing your shoulder as though that would help ease the pain, but you appreciated the gesture. “I’d like to be in there with you if you’d have me,” he replied, looking down at the counter, unable to meet your eye.

“Are you kidding?” You asked, grabbing onto his chin and pulling him down for a quick kiss. “I’d love that. It might be long, and it definitely won’t be pretty though.”

“I think you’re always pretty.”

You let out a breathy, teasing sigh. “I can’t wait to change your mind about that.”

The two of you got started packing toiletries and towels and robes to bring to the hospital, stuffing them in your oversized bag.

A knock sounded at the door and you perked up immediately. “Jaehee!” You cheered, hobbling your way over to the door, Jumin making it there before you and letting her in.

“I’m here,” she huffed, catching her breath. It was obvious she had hurried here. “What do you need?”

As if on cue, another wave of pain shot over you. You glanced at the clock. Looked like they were pretty normal. “ex...cuse me-“ you huffed out before letting out a yelp of pain.

“Oh wow! Are you going into labor? How exciting! What do you need me for? Would you like me to pack a bag for you?” Jaehee asked, bursting with excitement as you hunched over in pain.

Jumin took your arm gently and led you to sit on the couch. “I’m going to be in the labor room with her, and I’m begging you to trim her nails or file them or something,” he looked over at you, “I’m sorry love. I know your pain is a lot worse than mine, but...” he turned his arm over, showing the deep crescents you had made in his skin with the first contraction. “I’d rather play it safe.”

“Oh my... of course.” She sat down next to you and reached into her bag, pulling out a nail file. Jaehee really did have everything. She took your hand gently and began filing. “When are you going to the hospital?”

“We have thirty more minutes. If the contractions are regular, I’m more likely than not going into labor. Until then, we wait. Jumin, Honey, why don’t you grab some snacks to pack?”

He nodded, making his way to the kitchen. “Oh! And,” he whipped around to face you, “like a speaker or something? This is gonna be hard enough but I think some banging music will help.”

“Do you need me to start a playlist?” He asked, pulling out his phone.

“Nah, I have one thats like eight hours long. It should do.”

His eyes widened. You were sure he was thinning eight hours!? Poor Jumin had never realized it took that long.

By the time Jaehee perfected your nails and Jumin packed the snacks you were 50 minutes in. Jumin had said ‘screw it’ to the last 10 minutes, not enjoying seeing you in pain, and called Driver Kim to take you to the hospital immediately.

You started to feel nauseous with your contractions. Jumin demanded you get into a room immediately to give birth but that wasn’t how it worked. They put you under supervision; you weren’t quite ready.

“Are you kidding? You’ve been having contractions for how many hours and you still can’t give birth yet?” Jumin asked, more frustrated with the system than with you necessarily.

You laughed. “It’s okay. Turn on the speaker. I’ve heard dancing helps.”

A lot of your dancing was half-assed swaying to upbeat songs that shouldn’t be swayed to, but you had fun. Good thing the playlist was eight hours, because the ‘dancing,’ which actually branched into reading, playing 20 questions, and lots of holding Jumin’s hand took three hours. Jumin offered to send someone in to give you a massage, but you didn’t want anyone to see you so bitchy and messy. Halfway through he convinced you to ask for an epidural, which helped significantly.

Finally, you were dilated enough to go into the delivery room. You held onto Jumin’s hand and never let go. Lots of crying and screaming. Lots of concerned looks from Jumin and hushed words of affirmation because you were doing so well. Finally it was time to push. You were squealing at this point, trying to fight through the pain and keep breathing. Jumin was your rock, holding your hand gently, taking you digging your nails into his skin.

And then, it was done. The second you heard the baby cry you collapsed back, sweat covering your forehead. Jumin pulled out a handkerchief and used it to dab it away, his eyes glancing from you to the nurse taking care of the baby.

“Congrats Mr. and Mrs. Han, you have a baby girl. And she looks pretty healthy too,” the labor nurse exclaimed, cleaning the baby up and then putting her on your chest.

“Oh Jumin,” you whispered, looking at her tiny little fists. “Isn’t she precious?”

He kissed the side of your head. “That’s our baby,” he smiled.

“Darling I’m going to need you to give me one last push so that we can deliver the placenta. This ones nice and easy, okay?” The nurse asked, grabbing your attention. You nodded, sucking in a breath then starting to push. “Good girl. Now what are you thinking of naming her?” She asked, trying to help get your mind off the pain. She smiled at you, then nodded. It was finally over.

Jumin stroked your arm gently. “I think we decided on Isabelle earlier. If that’s still what you want?” He asked gently. You nodded. Baby Isabelle Han.

After some quality time spent with Isabelle, you finally let the nurses take her for a few tests, all of which she passed with flying colors (no surprise), and get her diaper on. At that point it was time to call the RFA.

Jumin was so cute, fanning out your hair to make it look nice, then starting the call. You were shocked that everyone joined so quickly.

“Baby Han!?” Seven practically yelled, earning a glare from Jumin. You nodded and waved at the camera, moving the blanket around Isabelle so that they could see her.

“Aw! She’s so cute. I hate to admit it but you two have made one very pretty baby,” Zen gushed.

“How are you doing?” Jaehee asked, switching the attention back to you.

“I’m exhausted. I don’t think I’m going to last much longer. Good thing her Daddy’s here to take care of her while I sleep,” you teased, looking up at Jumin and smiling. (Y’all pls don’t make a daddy joke let this be pure I’m begging you)

“How soon can we visit you!?” Yoosung exclaimed. He seemed awfully excited to spend time with the baby.

“My wife needs her rest. Maybe you can come in tomorrow,” Jumin recommended, his face totally calm. Of course, you could have however many visitors you wanted whenever, you were the Hans, but Jumin wanted you to take it easy. He didn’t even let his father come in today.

The call ended pretty quickly after that, everyone urging you to get your rest. You sighed, closing your eyes, but opening them immediately after hearing a knock on the door.

“V,” you smiled, watching him walk in with a stuffed bear and a balloon. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Well I had to bring a little something for my goddaughter,” he smiled. He pulled Jumin in for a hug, whispering something into his ear that you wish you could’ve heard, then making his way toward you and giving you as good of a hug as he could with a baby in your arms and you laying in a hospital bed.

“Jumin, would you mind holding her while V and I talk?” You asked. You were really just looking for a reason for Jumin to hold her. It had been one of his fears for a few weeks now; he was petrified of holding something so tiny and hadn’t done it even in the hour and a half she had been born.

His eyes widened, but you gave him a reassuring smile. He took a deep breath, likely going over the ‘protocol’ in his head, then gently took her from your arms.

“Are you happy it’s over?” V asked you.

You laughed. “Oh definitely. I much prefer her in person as to in my stomach. She really liked to wreck my system. Now what can she do? Annoy me by crying? Spit up on me? Much preferred. Plus,” you glanced at Jumin, rocking her lightly in his arms, looking down at her fondly, “now he gets to suffer with me.”

“You’re doing a great job with her,” V complimented, turning to his friend. “You’re a natural.”

“She hasn’t cried yet in your arms. She cries every five seconds in mine.” You liked to give him these words of encouragement; he wanted to be for her as much as possible, but he feared his shortcomings. You wanted to show him that he was capable of taking care of her.

“I’ll leave you guys alone. I just wanted to come say hi and meet her. Can I come back tomorrow?” V asked, polite as ever. You encouraged him to come back; he could even hold her next time because she was just too comfy in Jumin’s arms to be put into another strangers’.

That night, Jumin had encouraged you to keep the baby in a crib in the same room as you. He swore he would take care of her every time she cried during the night, which he better.

The staff was so friendly and accommodating and somehow (although you didn’t really pay attention to how) pushed two beds together so you and Jumin could sleep with one another. He helped you shower before bed, and then held you the whole night, even though you felt icky. He even did his job of taking care of Isabelle, letting you sleep. As you slept peacefully and he sat, his daughter in his arms, he realized he couldn’t be any luckier.

[fourth-wing-stories]

Don´t be such a boy | part II

Summary: Sirius was sending so many mixed signals. One day he´ll be laying in your lap under a tree on a sunny day. You´d be playing with his hair and sharing life stories. Next day he would tell you he didn't want to give you false hope and he didn't want a relationship. Then the day after he´d have you pinned against the prefect bathroom door kissing you all over. Everyone is talking about how girls are supposed to be complicated but this boy was really all over the place.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut, angst?

Words: 1940

A/N: I am loving writing this series! Hope you enjoy this part. Next one will be up on Wednesday one week from today xoxo Sorry if this is terrible, it´s a little messy  Part I here

Taglist: kielemarie  do-youseeme

Masterlist | Requests are OPEN

"I can´t believe how childish he is being.” you told lily as you sat down again in the library. “What happened?” Lily asked confused. You hadn't told Lily about you and Sirius having hooked up in the prefect bathroom. You debating on telling her then decided against it. You wouldn't like it if Sirius would share it with everyone so you wouldn't either. “I don´t know, Sirius thinks I shouldn't be talking to will” you told her. She raised her eyebrows at you in surprise, and a slight smirk on her lips. “Is that so? huh, thats... interesting.” she said then turning back to her essay. “What do you mean?” “It´s just that if I didn't know any better I´d say he was jealous.” she said not looking up from her parchment but you could see her smiling. You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Why on earth would he be jealous of me talking to will? or anyone for that matter.” “Your guess is as good as mine.” she told you still looking down smiling to her self. Maybe he was jealous? but what did that mean for the two of you. He was the one saying he didn't want anything Sirius? Did he lie? No it´s Sirius. He´s a player. He would never want anything serious, or did he?

“So pad foot what was that about?” James asked as Sirius walked into the common room. “Nothing” He said looking angry as he sat down in a unoccupied chair. “Didn't seem like nothing.” Peter stated. Sirius sent him eyes like daggers. “Well sorry to disappoint” He muttered and looked down. And with that the guys dropped it. Deciding it was better not to push it. Sirius had never felt like this before. He wasn't the jealous type. But seeing Wills hands around your waist and you smiling at him with your beautiful smile. It had waxed him in a way he hadn't experienced before. But y/n was right he had no right to be mad at her for flirting with Will. He decided that evening that he´d stop being angry with you. He´d try to be as normal as possible. Be careful not to react if he saw you with another guy. Even try to see if you couldn't get that thing he had with Marlene going again. Maybe that would help him forget about you. You your lips felt on his. Your soft skin. How good your hair smell...  He mentally hit himself for getting so easily distracted. No he told him self, he couldn't. 

"Are we good?” You asked Sirius the next day as you sat next to him in Transfiguration. He smiled at you. “We´re spectacular love.” He told you this, and seemed to be back to his normal flirtatious self. But something about it just seemed to good to be true. It was such a big switch from how he had acted yesterday. “Sirius-” You started but he cut you off. “y/n sorry about yesterday, it´ll never happen again.” Then just as you wanted to say something. Ask what he really meant about what he said. Not liking seeing you flirt with others. But before you could start Professor McGonagall started the lesson.

“So how´s things going with you and Will?” Lily asked you in Astronomy. “Oh you know, he´s cute and everything but I don´t think it´ll be anything special to be honest.” This was true. Will was handsome but you just didn't´t click. He  was little to plain if you were going to be brutally honest. “That´s a shame.” she said eyeing you the looking down into her book again. “What about Sirius?” She said casually, not looking up at you. Not wanting to put any pressure behind her words. Though inside she was bursting to know what was going on between the two of you. “Lily we kissed and... Well he doesn't want anything serious so I´m not going to entertain myself with the idea.” You told her. “But what if he did want something more? Would you?” She asked now looking up to see your reaction to her words. You felt your body tense a little then you exhaled and looked down at your work. Pretending not to care. “Well he don´t so I don´t have to think about the what if.” You told her ending the conversation.

As you and lily walked into the grounds during lunch to enjoy the nice weather you saw Sirius talking to Marlene. She was giggling at something he said. He was giving her his most dashing smile. She hit him playfully and he pulled her closer whispering something in her ear. Then when he looked up he saw you standing with lily a few feet away. His smile faltered. He look like he had been caught doing something he sound´t have. You´d had enough. Turning quickly you started walking fast towards the common. “Hey where you going?” Lily asked looking confused where you left her. Not turning back you just yelled back you´d forgotten something, and you would meet her in Arithmancy. You didn't know why it hurt you so much seeing him so openly flirting with Marlene. But it did. It felt like something had punched you in the gut. 

You went by the rest of the day as normal. Pretending that nothing had happened. Lily didn't´t bring it up, knowing it would just hurt you, though you didn't´t want to admit it. Seeing Sirius with someone else had made you unmistakably hurt. As you were walking with Lily and Remus Lily suddenly stopped. “Is that Regulus?” Lily said as you passed the court yard. You looked the same direction as she was. There was Sirius looking to be in a heated discussion with a slightly younger boy from Slytherin. He was handsome with the same dark hair as Sirius though his was shorter. “Yeah it is.” Remus said furrowing his brows looking concerned. You knew Sirius had a brother at Hogwarts, but it never hit you before know that you had never actually seen him before or knew who it was. “Looks like their having an argument.” Lily said. And sure enough just a second later Sirius said something loudly you couldn't quite make out before quickly turning and storming away. Leaving Regulus standing alone. He looked saddened. Then he a few moments later walked back into the castle. “They never talk” Remus said looking concerned. “I´m going to go check on him, I´ll se you later. He told you then walked the same direction Sirius had disappeared just moments earlier. 

That night you needed to clear your head. You needed some calm. So you headed to the astronomy tower. It had the most amazing views on starry nights like this. And most importantly it was usually empty this time of day. You were so confused about your feelings for Sirius. How what he had said didn't reflect his actions. How you´ made it clear you could flirt with whoever you liked, though seeing Sirius with Marlene had hurt you. He was obviously a player. You couldn't delude yourself with feelings of affections towards someone who would not return them. Or would he?

Before you made it all the way up you were met with the smell of smoke. As you entered you saw a boy sitting by the towers edge. A cigarette in one hand as he leaned back on his elbows looking out at the sky. You recognized the silhouette right away. “Sirius?” You asked gently. “You following me?” He said with a little laugh. “No I was just, I can go.” But as you turned away he spoke again. “I was just teasing you. You don´t have to leave.” It was something about his voice and his presence that made you feel like something was wrong. You walked over to him then sat down next to him. “I didn´t know you smoked.” You said simply. He smiled and looked down at the cigarette in his hand before moving it to his lips and taking a slow pull of it. “There´s a lot you don´t know about me. Not going to lecture me like my mom are you?” he told you as he exhaled the smoke. Neither of you looking at each other, just looking out on the starry sky. After sitting there in an comfortable silence for a while you spoke again ignoring his question. “Is everything alright Sirius?” You turned to him trying to catch his eyes but he just continued to look forward. He took inhaled a big breath then put out the cigarette on the hard wooden floor, leaving a mark. Then pushed himself up and sat straight, still not meeting your eyes. “Have you ever just felt like no matter what you do it´s gonna be wrong somehow.” He said this more like a statement then a question. He didn't really what made he confide in you. He hadn't even talked to James about this. Even though just a few hours ago the two of you had been avoiding each other, both upset with the other. It didn't seem to matter. You just felt like someone who would understand. Like you´d help him clear his mind. You didn't say anything just waited for him to continue. “My whole family thinks purebloods are superior, they think we should have some sort of higher status just because of our family history. They´re obsessed with this. And you´ve heard about Voldemort right? and his followers...?” He trailed of, still not meeting your eyes. You´d of course heard about the Black family, even being muggleborn you knew. You knew that Sirius had rebelled being sorted into Gryffindor and not caring about peoples blood status. But you´d never heard him really talk about his family. You hadn't even seen him talk to his younger brother before earlier that day.  “Yeah, death eaters right? what about them?” you asked carefully still trying to catch his eyes. “My parents want me and Regulus to join them.” “What?” you asked in disbelief. “Sirius-” he cut you off as the words just starting pouring out of him. “And I can´t but that means I´ll have to leave home. And that means I have to leave Regulus. I know he´s not like them deep inside. But he just wants to make our parents happy, he doesn't want to disappoint them. I don´t care if I lose my parents. I lost them when I got sorted into Gryffindor, but Regulus. I don´t know if I can just leave him alone with those.. those..  monsters.” He looked down now at his hands and started to pick under his nails. You laid a hand on his. This made his eyes finally meet yours. You could see they were glazed over, he was fighting back tears threatening to fall from his eyes. Seeing him like this made your heart ache. You could feel his pain as if it was your own. You moved closer and pulled him into a hug. You held you arms around him and he leaned into your neck. At this gesture he let go off all the feelings he was holding in. He cried quietly into you. You just sat there holding him. Rubbing his back comfortingly. “Sirius, you can´t save everyone. Especially someone who doesn't´t want to be saved.” You told him softly. He didn't answer just hugged you a little tighter. You kissed the top of his head and just held him. You knew that what he needed right here and now was just not to be alone. So you stayed, holding him. 

[shuijing-in-wonderland]

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@freya-lynn : 🦑💋 with Auniro

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Sorry if its split up by I did it!

-Mod Auniro

The night was still young aa the red eclipse slowly approaching. The raven haired girl with spectacles, Auniro who is dressed in a dark blue gown, was at the courtyard, anticipating the red eclipse to come quickly to end the ball.

"Why are you on your own, angelfish, are you not going back inside the ball?" Her dorm leader, Azul, dressed in a dashing white suit, slowly approaching her figure. "I just like how quiet the courtyard is compared to the ballroom" Auniro answered which made Azul chuckled. "Now don't be such a loner, I am right here for you now" He assured and flashed his signature smile. "Mmmmm, okay thats good, atleast I wont be too lonely" she commented and hugged herself.

"Here" Azul spoke and puts his blazer around Auniro's bare shoulders. Due to how big the blazer is compared to her, the girl snuggled into the blazer and felt the warmth of its owner. Little did she know that Azul has a tiny blush on his face because of her actions that is deemed as adorable to him.

"Do you have any clue what the red eclipse mean?" Azul asked as he sat down on a bench, patting the empty spot next to usher Auniro to sit next to him which she obliged to do so. "Yeah, this ball happens when the ballroom becomes pitch black once the red eclipse arrives. If someone were to kiss another person, they will become soulmates until their next life" she explained with a glazed look.

While Auniro was looking down at the ground, Azul had noticed that by a few seconds, the red eclipse will come up. He sighed and immediately formulated a plan to kiss the person he truly felt for.

"Are you not interested with its tradition? I thought you're a romantic person"

"The only romantic thing Im into is angst. I'm a sucker for one-sided love. I get salty but I really enjoy the feeling of being in pain because of love"

"But do you enjoy the pleasure of being in love?"

Auniro quickly looked at him with a quizzical look and stood up. "What the hell are you saying?? That sounds so dir-" Before Auniro could finish her sentence, a gloved hand had blocked her vision as she felt a tall figure, loomed over her from behind.

Her dorm leader had lifted up her left hand and pressed a kiss ontop of her palm. Auniro flinched from the sudden contact but stayed still, thoughts comes running around her mind in the situation shes in.

"A-azul?!" She squeaked out his name and the said person pulled away from her petite figure. Auniro looked at him with a flushed face which made Azul kept a straight face at her reaction. "You missed the eclipse," Azul smirked which snapped the girl out of her trance.

"Y-YOU-!!!" She stuttered as her whole body is shaken. "W-why did you that for!? Nakakahiya yun! Ano mangyari kung nakita tayo hah!?" She scolded him to the process she code switched into her native tongue while gently smacking Azul in the arm.

Azul tried to keep a straight face but bursted into laughter at the petite girl who is puffing out her cheeks as a way of showing irritation. "I could not help it~, it was a perfect opportunity to fluster the girl who I must look after for" Azul confessed and patted her head like she's a child.

"But don't you think that you should save the kiss for someone else? Thanks for the jacket" Auniro asked and gives Azul's blazer, leaving the owner confused. "I already did" he answered with a closed eye smile. The girl has an indifferent look and proceeded to walk away after his response.

"I'll go back inside, its a getting too cold"

Azul dropped his smooth facade and sighed. He wondered if shes finally accepted him....or is still playing the hard to get game by being aloof and indifferent towards his moves.

"Oh Auniro....when will you stop pushing me away?" The man thought as he followed her back inside.

================

I didnt put an illustration in the middle of the fic because I didnt have the mood for it sorry;;.

-Mod Auniro

[half-heaven]

Cresswell Au day! tlc ship weeks. Its apart of the Au ship weeks series that i made so i your confused about the chapters then thats why

yeah i should've done this earlier.

Starbucks AU

Chapter 2, Real

___________________________________________________________

Cress sighed. It had been a tiresome day.

She wasn't good with large crowds of people, or with small groups of people, or with a few customers in the store, or well...she just wasn't good with people. She had tried, lord knows she tried her hardest. But her fainting that one time at the register made it clear that she was not suited for the socializing part of the job. So Scarlet put her in the Drive-Thru. Cress's job was to take the orders, she never complained though. She wanted some freedom from her room back home, so she would take any job. Her father said that her working wasn't necessary, that he provided more than enough money for the two of them working as a scientist. Cress didn't care. She just wanted to have a semblance of freedom, she wanted to get out and experience things. She wanted to conquer this social awkwardness, courtesy of staying inside and programming since she was ten. She was going to, at least, try.

Cress heard another round of orders being said into her headset. She typed quickly, not missing a beat. She blew upwards, her actions clearing her vision of the loose hair. She told them to drive to the window. They pulled up next to her window and she took the money carefully to not to drop any. She thanked them and they pulled up to the next window. Thorne's window.

Thorne had been her crush for her entire time working here and in highschool. She would dare say she loved him but that might be a bit overdramatic. She had seen him a few times in school but never really knew him. He had graduated last year, and with that came the overabundance of signatures in yearbooks. Most of the yearbooks were owned by girls. Hers was one of them. She thought he was incredibly handsome and had developed feelings for him, which is why she had nearly screamed when he unknowingly signed her yearbook. That was why she was stoked when she happened to talk to him on the first day of her working here. He was so kind and supportive towards her, so kind in fact that she had nearly asked him to marry her right then and there. Thankfully, she didn't. He had a girlfriend.

Darla.

She very much disliked Darla, hate was much too strong of a word. Though with how much she disliked her, hate might be the right word.

1. Because Darla was much too aggressive, with Thorne, and with other men.

2. She was cheating on Thorne, well Thorne was cheating on her too but that wasn't the issue here. He flirted with every girl in the cafe, including the staff, accept for Cress. He also collected many numbers via Drive-Thru window.

3. Darla had called Cress a middle schooler. Cress was in her junior year of high school.

4. Darla was fake. Not like silicone, well she might as well have been. She was obviously not sporting real curves. That irked Cress because she lied about it.

5. Winter did not like her. Winter liked everyone. If she didn't like Darla that meant bad news.

Why couldn't Thorne found someone better, someone real?

'Someone like you?'

Cress blushed. Why must her mind be so blunt? Maybe she hadn't given her enough of a chance? No, she had. She had tried to befriend her but Darla just gave her a dirty look. Cress could tell she was one of those girls who would talk about you while in your presence. If you asked what they were talking about they would lash out and tell you to mind your business. Cress had dealt with a few girls like that in highschool.

'Even Sybil was more tolerable.' Cress thought.

Another car pulled in and Cress greeted them. She mustn't lose focus. She heard laughing. She turned her head in the direction of the noise and found Thorne looking at her. Her face heated up and she whipped her head back to the computer. She took down the orders and told them to head to the window. She turned her head a bit and glanced to see if he was still looking at her. He was. She slowly turned her head to the computer again.

What was she supposed to do?

The car outside the window honked. She jumped. Cress hurried to open the window and took the money. She muttered a few apologies to the customer before they drove to the next window. She can't lose focus! Not even for Thorne...

She glanced at the clock overhead and took a breath. Her shift change was soon. Hopefully, she would make it through.

There wasn't any activity in the drive-thru for at least 30 minutes after the last customer. This wasn't really all that strange but on a busy day like today, it made her wary. Emilee would be switching with her soon so she just leaned back against the wall and relaxed. She glanced out the window. A car drove by. What?

Cress turned around and caught sight of Darla and Thorne making out through the window. She heard Cinder gag. Cress felt her heart squeeze. It hurt. Why must it hurt? She blinked rapidly to keep the beginning of tears from spilling over. How troublesome.

She looked back up at the clock and breathed through her reddening nose. Shift change. She was grateful to have a moment of peace. She needed to get a grip.

If it hurt this much, could it be love? Maybe...

She walked by them to the back room. She sat on one of the benches and breathed. This wasn't worth it. She decided that she had to get over him. It was the only way she would be able to keep working here while they were dating. She heard Emilee's voice after a few minutes. Thank god.

The door to the break room opened and Thorne stepped through. It wasn't his shift change with Kinney so what-

"Are you okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned. She felt another tug at her heart. She didn't want to worry him.

"Y-yeah, just a bit tired." Her voice sounded a lot more vulnerable than she had anticipated. She looked up from her lap and her breath caught. His eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes seemed...sad.

"Why are you lying?" He asked quietly. She felt her body stiffen.

"There's no need to. We're friends right?" His voice sounded hurt, genuinely hurt.

"Of course! I just...I just don't feel comfortable around Darla is all." She decided to be honest. Honesty is the best policy, in some situations.

"Did she bother you?" He sounded a little more angry. She blushed a bit.

"N-no, I just feel a bit uncomfortable around her. She didn't really do anything." She lied. Darla did do something.

'She was your fake, obnoxious, and rude girlfriend.' Cress thought.

"Are you sure? I'd be willing to talk to her for you." No! that's the last thing Cress needed.

"No! I-I mean, no. It's fine. I just need to get used to the- the-,"

"The fakeness?" He smiled, " I heard you mumbling while you were working."

"What! Oh, my stars! I'm sorry! I didn't really- well I did but- I mean I-," She was red, unbelievably red. She was also ashamed, very much ashamed.

"Nah! You're fine. I completely agree with you." He laughed.

"Then why do you-" She was confused.

"My friend was trying to get her out of his bed. So he asked me to ask her out, being the good friend I am, I did, haven't been able to shake her off since." He said tiredly. Cress felt bad for him.

"Have you told her how you feel?" She felt a bit more comfortable. So he didn't like Darla. No! She mustn't get her hopes up.

"Yeah, she slapped me." He said rubbing his cheek. She gasped.

"Are you okay?!" He stared at her then smiled.

"Yeah." He said smiling.

Cress blushed. Why was he so handsome? Why did he make her heart warm and fuzzy? Why did she have to like him so much?

"Carswell-y!" A sickeningly fake sweet voice said.

Thorne sighed and glared at the door. Cress looked down at her lap.

Oh boy.

The door burst open and the girl flipped her hair back from her face. There was a man on her arm. He looked like a frat lord.

"Carswell, this is Leo. Leo, this is my ex-boyfriend. Ta Ta~!" She then skipped out with the man on her arm. Thorne looked a bit shocked but no pain crossed his features. He smiled. The smile was so big, Cress thought he would start a song. She smiled along with him. He looked at her and winked. She thought she heard the blush rush to her cheeks.

"Well, it looks like I'm off the hook!" He cheered, "good thing too, she was not my type." Thorne shook his head and headed to the door. Cress spoke before she could stop herself.

"Then what is your type?" She asked. She blushed again. Curse her ever-questioning mouth. She prepared herself for the backlash.

He turned and looked at her. He let the question hang in the air for a few seconds. He smiled, warm and bright. Cress felt her heart beat quicken.

"Someone real." With that, he closed the door and left Cress to blush.

________________________________________________________________

Thx for reading 💕 ( yeah i've never worked at starbucks so sorry if its not completely accurate.)

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Baptized in Blood”

A bit of a gore warning for this one :), But I was fulfilling the request of a few readers.

As always, I would love to hear your questions, comments, and requests. Always willing to answer writing questions as some of you have come to me for advice. :)

I will be covering this same topic in one of my short reports later on, so wait for that.

They were holed up inside the, “grocery store” The lights were off and snow had piled itself to almost two feet deep outside the glass doors, trembling from the powerful blowing of the snow. The humans milled about in confused packs.

Apparently blizzards of this power weren’t common, and the human’s hadn’t expected the storm to be as bad as it was. Now they were help up in the powerless store, thought the emergency lights and backup generator kept the place marginally lit and livably warm.

Krill could feel his body working to heat itself, but he wasn’t half as efficient as the humans. Captain Vir had given him his coat. It still had some of the human’s body heat, and so warmed Krill nicely.

Captain Vir sat by the checkout counters head resting back against the wall eyes closed.

Krill panicked silently to the side.

“Adam!” his one eye popped open and looked towards the sound of the voice.

Krill looked to find Captain Vir’s nest-mate or sister waddling towards them. She was even bigger than Krill remembered, and was impressed that she didn’t just fall over from the weight of her stomach.

Captain Vir stood, “Maya, what are you doing here?” He glanced down at her swollen belly, “Where is Jack…. Shouldn’t he be the one out doing this stuff…. You’re due in what? Two weeks?”

She waved him away with a hand, “If I avoided doing thigs just because I was pregnant, than I wouldn’t be doing anything. Besides, I needed to get up and walk around.”

Captain Vir tilted his head to the side, “Why?”

With a sigh, she rested one hand on her stomach and the other on her lower back, “I have had a backache all day. Besides this is the first time in days I haven’t been exhausted, so I wanted to get things done.”

From the corner of his eye, Krill saw Captain Vir tense lightly….. “Um…. I know I’m not like an expert or anything, but. Isn’t increased back pain a sign of labor….?

Krill was alerted by the sudden palpable tension in the room. Nearby humans turned to look at them worried expressions on their faces as they turned to glance at the blocked glass doors.

Maya went white, “I…. didn’t even think about that.”

“Any contractions?”

“Well no, not really.”

“What is that supposed to mean.” Vir was sounding frantic now, not something Krill understood. On his planet a mother laid her eggs in two minutes flat and then they were done…..

How big was a human larvae again?

Suddenly the female human stiffened up and closed her eyes resting a hand against the purchase lane taking a slow deep breath.

“Are you kidding me Maya? You’re in labor in a F***ing blizzard at the grocery store.” It was Vir’s turn to panic.

She frowned at him, “Excuse me for not timing it right.”

Captain Vir looked down at Krill, “Um…. You’re a doctor.”

Krill stared at the two of them, “You aren’t serious.” He looked back at Maya and the encouraging smile on her face though her eyes were very, very worried. He sighed, “Yeah, I am.”

It was almost impressive how fast Vir whipped up some extra support. Doing their best, they turned one of the back offices into a passable medical room wiping down all the surfaces, binging in anything soft and Pillow-shaped for support. Any useful tool was rounded up on Krill’s instruction. Maya insisted on helping despite being racked by pain every 45-60 seconds. She took it like only a human could with an easy smile and a pleasant request for some water.

Despite offering to let her sit down, she insisted that walking would probably be better.

Krill honestly wasn’t sure what to expect, and the true horror wasn’t really foreshadowed until, a few hours later, Maya went suddenly very still doubling over in pain eyes closed teeth gritted. Vir came over to support her arm as she whimpered through her teeth. She was there for almost sixty seconds standing back up face streaked in sweat eyes wide.

“F***k.” Vir muttered, “Krill, she’s getting closer.”

They transitioned her to the other room having her lay down. Krill did what he would do during surgery, though he was setting up for a procedure he had never performed.

The true horror hadn’t exactly been revealed yet. Upon request, captain Vir said that a baby could be anywhere from three to ten pounds whispering that it was very possible for the baby to get caught the wrong way, or break the pelvis, or get wrapped up in the umbilical cord.

Krill felt cold. Pregnancy wasn’t supposed to be dangerous…

Vir Knelt next to his sister’s head holding her hand, he kept his eyes very intentionally focused on her face stammering out instructions for breathing and reminders to try and keep relaxed.

Then it was like a switch was flipped, and the human began to scream…

Krill had never heard such a terrible grating noise, like an animal being tortured to death. Under her protective covering, the human writhed in absolute, and complete agony hands becoming claws nails dug into skin and Vir yelped in surprised pain drowned out by the terrible sound of her agony.

Sixty seconds…. And she collapsed back down eyes opening wide, bloodshot, face red body drenched. Those eyes turned on her brother, and the sweet human female bared her teeth at him, “F***K you…. Adam.”

He blinked, “What.”

“You heard what I said.” She snarled, “Now shut up.”

Krill was shaking. Did human females…. Kill people during labor.

She threw her head back and screamed again. The tone could have shattered steel like glass. It rocked the room as if the gates of hell had opened. Vir whimpered in pain, blood trickled down his hand, but that was…. That was absolutely nothing….. this was…. This was horror.

More than once he was forced to dodge out of the way as something was thrown at his head. The human screamed abuse at him, she screamed at Vir, and then she just screamed. Rivulets of sweat ran down her face, and she huffed in exhaustion.

He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

Vir was shaking with him. For once the human and Krill were in agreement. This was just…. Horrific.

By his calculations, they were close. He ordered her to push.

She snarled at him, but did as told.

Her scream could have ripped the fabric of the universe body straining as if she were about to spontaneously burst or rip in half, and then he was covered in blood struggling to maintain a grip on the slimy wriggling creature bright red and screaming. The human shrieks died away replaced by the screaming of the slimy, maggoty, blood-covered, thing he held in his arms.

A dull thud followed the sudden transition.

Vir lay collapsed on the floor to the side completely passed out.

Hm…. Weird?

In shock, and still shaking, he cut away the slimy red cord before washing away the blood.

The tiny human shrieked in indignation.

With the way his arms were shaking, he just prayed that he wouldn’t accidentally drop it. He felt as if he were in shock, the room moved in slow motion around him. And there was the female human, she had crawled to her hands and knees and was concernedly peering over at him. Her hair was in tangled wet ropes around her face, but her eyes were wide, the anger was gone.

In pleading, she reached out to him, and he gladly handed the mess over to her.

She smiled at the ugly creature in her arms cooing and stroking at its red-screwed-up face as if she held a bar of gold or the secrets of the universe, but no…. it was more than that, it was the kind of expression that expressed her willingness to walk through fire if only to hold that which she now held in her arms.

You didn’t walk through fire for gold.

***

They had moved her to the next room over and piled all the used materials into a trash bag. They would need to be taken away with medical waste when the blizzard was over.

Captain Vir had originally woken up. He was shaky, and shell shocked, which Krill would have found funny if he didn’t feel exactly the same way. The two of them sat in the hall together one of them looking nauseous and the other trying very hard not to scream and run away from the humans. Through the open door, they could see the human resting quietly next to her sleeping larvae: resting in a large plastic container robbed from the store shelves. Both of them slept quietly now.

“You’re species is horrifying.”

“Tell me about it.”

***

The “Miracle” of birth, you absolute batshit crazy idiots. That isn’t a miracle, it’s not beautiful. That’s like calling a potful of intestines beautiful. How have your species survived? Why would your females willingly CHOOSE to continue your species?

Terror germinates inside of them, slowly growing upwards, getting bigger feeding on the nutrients of the body. It saps your strength and steels your livelihood, it forces you to eat and gain wait so it may subsist on the food you eat. Then it crawls its way from your body, ripping itself from the womb squalling and screaming. It tortures you as it exits, what kind of thanks is that?

And when it is all over, you love it, you keep it, and you feed it. You hold it for hours on end and sing to the monster that rests quietly in your houses.

In reality, it is a fitting way for a human to come into the world. Everything you do is dangerous, being a child is dangerous, being a mother is dangerous, and continuing your species is a sacrifice uncomprehended by the rest of the galaxy.

Though all of you participate in war, dance with pain, only your women fight with death to bring life, at cost to their own health and their own sanity.

As deathworlders, you are pulled from the blackness, children of death.

 Humans are born in pain, heralded by a chorus of screams, and baptized in blood. 

[albapuella]

How to Lose a Lover in 10 Days or Less: A Comprehensive Guide to Becoming a Future Romantic Failure (Chapter Two)

AO3

Fandom: Homestuck

Summary: How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days AU Dave needs to win a bet; Karkat needs to write an article. Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: Humanstuck, alternate universe - no sburb session, POV switches galore, implied/referenced child abuse Author’s note: This story is the result of a jam session I did with aceAdoxography on the davekat thirst federation discord server. This one's a little out of my usual wheelhouse, but I hope you will enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. New chapters every Saturday/Sunday. Didn’t bother with the formatting this time: You want the fancy formatting, go to AO3 :D

Day 1:

Despite his slacker appearance (and life-style, to be honest), Dave was always punctual. He'd even made an effort to look the part of a guy going on a date with another guy: jeans with only a few holes at the knees, his favorite record shirt, and a red hoodie—all freshly cleaned. So freshly cleaned that the sweater was still very slightly damp. Well, whatever, it'd be fine. They were having dinner first, and that meant he'd have plenty of time for the thing to dry out before they went to the movies where the main thrust of Dave's doki-doki plan would commence.

Karkat arrived a few minutes later. He wasn't dressed to the nines, but it was at least to the sevens. It occurred to Dave, as he watched him approach, that he hadn't known how tall Karkat was. The answer was slightly shorter than Dave but with a more solid build. Stocky. Or maybe that was just the black sweater he was wearing. Then again, his legs looked pretty solid in the black pants he was wearing, too. Either way, he looked good.

Dave gave him an appreciative whistle which made Karkat's eyes narrow. Not the reaction he'd wanted. “Looking good, Karkat,” he said quickly, hoping to smooth over any feathers he might have inadvertently ruffled. “I'm digging the whole sexy college professor thing you've got going.”

“Uh, thanks,” Karkat said with evident disbelief. “You, uh, you look good, too.” He straightened up. “You said we were doing dinner first.”

“Yep.” Dave held out his arm. “I’m taking you to my favorite place. A lot of people think it’s wack, but I’m buying, so if you really don’t like it, at least it didn’t cost you anything.” When his date didn't immediately take his offered arm, he shook it invitingly. “It's not too far from here.”

Karkat looked from Dave's arm to Dave, suspicious. Then he sighed and laid his hand on Dave's arm, his hold tighter than Dave had expected it to be considering his earlier hesitation. “Okay. Fine. Sounds great. Let's go.”

---

The first thing Karkat noticed when he took Dave's arm was that his sleeve was damp. Then he noticed the feeling of the arm beneath his fingers. Despite looking thin enough to break, there was some muscle here. As they walked to what was apparently Dave’s favorite restaurant, Dave just kept talking. If Karkat had been offered a thousand dollars, he doubted he could have remembered any specific details of the inanity he'd been subjected to. A nervous talker. He'd have to put that down in his notes.

Dinner went much the same. Dave talked at him while Karkat sat there trying to eat his food (overpriced, faux Italian—of all the places Dave could have chosen, he'd picked a fucking Olive Garden? That was going in his notes, too.). In all honesty, Karkat tried not to pay too much attention to what was being said. First, he'd already determined that most of what came out of this man's mouth was completely meaningless nonsense, and second, if he actually listened to any of it, he'd be hard pressed not to respond to the idiocy. While Dave had no evident compunction about swearing, Karkat wanted to get through at least this first date without screaming.

All right, so that was an exaggeration. Some of what Dave said was actually pretty funny. In a hopelessly awkward sort of way. Karkat hated that Dave's clumsy compliments were making him blush. Clearly, the man had brain damage... which also explained the rapping that Dave kept doing (completely unprovoked!). By the time dinner was over, Karkat was only too grateful that their next destination meant that Dave would have to stop talking.

---

Since Dave had picked the restaurant, Karkat had picked the movie. Some romantic comedy chick flick Dave couldn't be bothered to remember the title of. Still, it gave him an opportunity to sit right tight next to Karkat and eat his weight in popped, buttery goodness, so he really couldn't complain.

“What’s the deal with that dude?” Dave whispered. “I thought he was already tight with that other chick. What gives? Is he cheating on her?”

Karkat made a noise like a cat being stepped on but softer. “Dave,” he whispered back, his tone full of the same sing-songy patient impatience that Rose would use when she thought Dave was being particularly dim, “if you were paying attention, you'd already know that that 'dude' is that 'other chick's' cousin. They are probably not romantically involved. I know you're from Texas, but that's not how it works above the Mason Dixon line.” Then he ducked his head and took a long drink from his soda. “Sorry. Just-just watch the movie and be quiet.”

Dave blinked. He'd been starting to think Karkat wasn't going to open up at all. At least, he'd had fuck all to say during dinner. Even if it had been an incest joke at his expense, it still was nice to hear Karkat say something. Something that wasn't just non-committal noises or unenthusiastic agreements. He leaned against Karkat's shoulder to whisper, “It's not true, you know. About Texas. We don't fuck our cousins; I mean, we do, but not first cousins. We're strictly second cousins only. It's a rule. Of course, none of my second cousins are as hot as you, so I'd be willing to make an exception. Just this once.”

This earned him a light elbowing to the gut and a low growl, but Karkat didn't push him off.

By the end of the movie, Dave had gotten five more elbows to the gut, three startled bursts of laughter, two creative insults (quickly joined by muttered apologies), and one “Will you please just let me watch this movie?” Over all, Dave felt like he'd succeeded in charming the hell out of this motherfucker, thank you very much.

They'd walked out into the open air, a nice breeze whisking away the smell of popcorn and sweat from the movie theater. “I had a lot of fun, Karkat. Thanks for coming on this date with me. Do you think we could do this again sometime?”

Karkat blinked at him, a clear look of surprise on his face. “Oh, uh, sure.” He shook his head. “I mean, yes, I'd love to go on another date with you.”

Dave's heart leapt. “Awesome. You can hit me up on Pesterchum. Or I can hit you up. How about I hit you up?”

“Fine, that's... that's fine.” Karkat's smile seemed uneven. “I'll be looking forward to it.”

Although Dave was tempted to try for a kiss, he didn't think he ought to press his luck so far on the first date. Karkat had loosened up some while they'd been in the theater, but out here under the streetlight, he looked nervous again. The last thing Dave wanted to do was chase him away. “Okay then. I guess I'll see you later?”

A slow nod. “Yeah, later.” Karkat was stilted and contained again. Restricted, like a hermit crab stuck in a shell that was too tight. It wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all. Dave had caught a few glimpses of the real Karkat tonight, and the sight made him hungry to see more.

Dave watched him walk away, admiring the view with a new goal in mind: he was going to get Karkat Vantas out of his shell if it was the last thing he did. Getting to rub him in Rose’s face at her wedding was only going to be a bonus.

---

* Never shuts up. Not even during movies. Especially during movies. Attention span of a gnat. From Texas. Doesn't know how to use a dryer. Finds me attractive. Probable brain damage. Funny. Charming. Obnoxious. Never takes off sunglasses. Olive Garden.

Karkat sighed and set down his pen. He'd tried his best to be as cordial as he knew how to be, and he still hadn't managed to last for the entire four hours without insulting his date. Multiple times. Oh well. At least Dave was apparently brain damaged enough to find rudeness terribly amusing (if the way he'd kept bugging Karkat during the movie had been any indication).

He'd been surprised when Dave had actually asked if they could go on another date. Karkat knew he hadn't made the best impression, and yet Dave wanted to spend more time with him? He looked over his notes, trying to ignore the surge of happiness that filled him at the thought. It didn't mean anything: Dave was clearly an idiot, and after a few more days, Karkat was going to start on the offensive. Whatever meager promise there would have been in this fledgling romance, it was still doomed from the start: like all of Karkat's relationships.

Day 2:

It was all Dave could do to wait until the next day to pester Karkat. He didn't want to come off as too eager, after all. Didn't want to put Karkat off. But Dave was only so strong.

TG: so i was thinking TG: if youre not busy TG: we could go to the park this afternoon TG: watch the grifters and maybe get robbed TG: or you could come to my place and hang TG: is it too soon to do that? TG: asking for a friend TG: this is dave by the way TG: i dont know how many people youre talking to TG: not that its any of my business TG: i wouldnt want you up in my grill asking me who im talking to CG: IT IS SIX O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING ON SUNDAY. TG: yea and youre up anyway CG: BECAUSE YOU WOKE ME UP. WITH YOUR TEXTS. THAT YOU SENT JUST NOW. TG: oh shit sorry CG: IT'S FINE. I NEEDED TO GET UP ANYWAY. CG: YOU WANT TO HANG OUT WITH ME? WHY?

Dave frowned down at his phone. Was Karkat fishing for compliments or was he being serious?

TG: because its fun to hang out with you TG: thats how this works right? TG: i thought we could watch another movie TG: at my place TG: or your place i guess if that works better for you TG: ive got popcorn if that sweetens the deal at all CG: YES. BECAUSE THE WAY TO MY HEART IS MICROWAVED POPCORN. TG: fucking called it CG: … CG: FINE. I'LL MEET YOU AT THE PARK AT 2:30PM. IS THAT ACCEPTABLE? TG: perfect ill meet you by the giant yo CG: YOU MEAN THE OY/YO. TG: tomatoes tomotoes karkat

Dave watched the little “CG is typing” message run for almost a minute, feeling his nervousness grow. What had he said that required a novel length response? He managed to reign in the impulse to apologize preemptively, but it was a struggle.

CG: OKAY. WHATEVER. I'LL MEET YOU THERE.

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Fine, good then. Nothing was wrong.

TG: im looking forward to it TG: its not hard to intuit TG: when we come out to debut TG: sit by the yo then well go round TG: downtown get the lowdown TG: before we get busy in the hissie TG: partake of the fizzie cause we got a duty TG: to watch the fuck out of this movie CG: RIGHT. SEE YOU THEN. BYE.

Dave shrugged. He couldn't expect Karkat to really appreciate his off the cuff rhymes so soon after waking up, he supposed. Maybe they'd land better later. Flat reception or not, the important thing was he'd gotten Karkat to agree to come to his apartment. He looked around, frowning. Maybe he should clean up a little.

---

Jesus Fucking Christ. Karkat tossed his phone on the bedside table with a groan. It had been all that he could do not to curse out Dave like there would never be a tomorrow. Considering the fact that he was currently planning to go to the apartment of a practical stranger, that much might just be true for him. He lay in bed a little longer, out of spite mostly—he could never get back to sleep after being woken up—, before getting out from under the covers. First things first: notes.

* Inconsiderate asshole. Horrible rapper. Calls the OY/YO “the YO”. Doesn't know the right way to express “tomatoes, tomahtos”. Wants to spend time with me. Insane. We have that much in common.

Thanks to Dave's wake-up call, Karkat had plenty of time to eat a hearty breakfast and start his article.

“How to Lose a Lover in 10 Days or Less: A Comprehensive Guide to Becoming a Future Romantic Failure” BY KARKAT VANTAS

Since you have decided to read this article, I will assume that you are looking to learn the art of ruining your relationships without the mess of all that trial and error. Maybe you enjoy breaking hearts. Maybe you are the kind of masochist who enjoys getting their heart broken but is at a loss as to how to properly sabotage your relationship yourself. If you can manage to follow these simple steps, you will be well on your way to the same bitter loneliness that usually only the most unlucky in love get the privilege to experience. 

The first step is the victim. For the purposes of this article, I picked one that is particularly obnoxious and brain dead. You may have different qualities you are looking for in a potential short-term partner. Ultimately, the most important thing to consider when you plan to lose a guy (or gal or enby) is that you make certain they are one you do not mind losing. That way you can start the process without any regrets.

The second step is the hook. Laugh at their dumb jokes; accept their stupid compliments; ignore their mangling of the English language (in my case, his horrible rapping); and generally be as agreeable as you can manage. A severe lack of intelligence in your short-term partner can be a boon here, though you will find most people are not immune to flattery. You need to make certain that you have your short-term partner well and truly interested in you before you attempt to lose them. If you try to lose them too soon, you will miss out on the full relationship ruining experience.

A little too informal, maybe, but a fine start. Depending on how well this afternoon went (assuming he wasn't murdered and stuffed in a closet), maybe Karkat would be able to start on step three. He was able to stomp down his nascent guilt with ease. After all, Dave wouldn't have been interested in him after the novelty wore off anyway.

---

The afternoon was a little warmer than the evening had been, but Dave still wore his hoodie. It felt lucky, and it was still clean. More the latter than the former, but the point stood! He sat down on the bench next to the giant yellow YO installation and waited. While it was tempting to shoot a message to Karkat, he decided against it. He’d be seeing him in less than ten minutes, and he didn’t want him to think he was clingy. Which he wasn’t. Totally not. Dave Strider had never clung his whole life. Ask anyone. Except Jade. Don’t ask her. 

He noticed his leg was bouncing and put a stop to that noise. He was a cool operator. He had this thing on lock. The date yesterday had gone good, right? Karkat wouldn’t have agreed to see him again if he’d had a terrible time. He pushed back his hood and ran a hand through his hair. Nothing to worry about. He’d have a date for Rose’s wedding and continue sorting out the mystery that was Karkat Vantas.

Dave heard the crunch of gravel and looked over to see Karkat approaching. Another sweater combo, but gray this time. The guy had a style he preferred, clearly. It was fine: he looked great. He stood and closed the distance between them. “Hey, Karkat.”

“Hey,” Karkat returned, frowning. Of course, that seemed to be his default expression. “I brought a movie to watch,” he said gruffly. 

Although Dave had been hoping he’d be able to pick the movie this time, he wasn’t too cut up about it. It might be a little early in the relationship to bring out The Room anyway. He wouldn’t know. “Sounds great. My place isn’t too far from here.” He held his arm out. “Shall we?”

Again, Karkat regarded his arm with suspicion. “Why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

Karkat opened his mouth before seeming to think better of whatever he’d planned to say. “Never mind.” He took Dave’s arm. “Let’s get going.”

As they walked to his apartment, Dave tried to keep the conversation flowing, but Karkat’s subdued responses quickly killed his enthusiasm. “I feel like I’m talking too much,” he said finally. 

Karkat mumbled something which sounded suspiciously like “You think?” before he shook his head. “No, of course not. I’m just a little too tired to, uh, participate, that’s all.”

Dave winced at the reminder of his first faux pas of the day. “No problem, dude. I got us covered. I got words for days.”

“Months even,” Karkat added before ducking his head. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

Nudging Karkat’s side, Dave laughed. “Nah, man it’s true. I’ve got words for fucking years.”

Karkat smiled slightly. “Decades.”

“Centuries.”

“Eons”

“Until the next motherfucking epoch, I’ve got words, Karkat. So many words. All the words even.”

Karkat snorted, covering his face with his free hand. “Damn it, Dave. Stop making yourself likeable.”

“I think that’s the point of this whole thing,” Dave pointed out reasonably. “Dating, I mean. It’s not like the old days where your dad and my dad decide if you’re worth enough chickens to trade me for, you know. These days I get to decide for myself how many chickens I want to be traded for.” He gave Karkat a mock critical eye. “How about it, Karkat? How many chickens could I get for you?”

“I don’t know,” Karkat said, his mock serious tone almost too close to a serious tone for Dave’s comfort. “Let me look in my pocket.” He made a show of staring down at the pocket containing his free hand before sliding the hand out and flipping Dave the bird. “Is this enough for you?”

Dave laughed. “I’m sorry, Karkat. You must have at least five chickens to ride this ride.” He felt his face flush but pushed onward. “I guess you’ll have to settle for a movie, and maybe some pizza.”

Karkat was grinning, and Dave decided right then and there that he wanted to keep seeing it. “Maybe next time.” As though to intentionally spite him, Karkat frowned again. “Are we almost there?”

“Yeah, man, just a little further.” As they continued their journey to his apartment, Dave felt himself frown. What was Karkat’s deal? He was a lot more fun when he let himself be himself. Dave didn’t like meanness for meanness sake, but he enjoyed a good joke. For some reason, Karkat seemed to think he shouldn’t joke around? Why? His frown deepened. Karkat also apologized a lot. And he was so often deferential even when it was obvious he had OPINIONS he wasn’t sharing. The pieces were adding up to a disturbing picture. 

Maybe after he was done hanging out with Karkat today, he should hit up Rose. She’d know what to do.

---

Karkat’s expectations for Dave’s apartment had been fairly low, and he’d been pleasantly surprised. While not as meticulous as his own apartment, there at least weren’t empty food containers on every surface or dirty clothes everywhere. There was an overall shabbiness though: the feeling that the occupant didn’t care overly much about the apartment’s upkeep. The futon in front of the television was ancient and threadbare as were the carpets. The posters hung on the walls were dusty and faded, and there was a sort of mildewy smell. Still, as previously mentioned it was clean (more or less), and there were no obvious signs of a hidden murder dungeon (not that there would be if there were one, naturally). 

“Nice place,” he said for politeness’ sake. 

Dave beamed like a little boy who’d gotten just what he’d wanted for Christmas. “Thanks. It’s not much, but it keeps the rain off.” He gestured towards the futon. “Make yourself at home. Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got apple juice. And water from the tap, I guess. I could go pick up some beer if you want to go that route, or--”

Karkat held up his hand, hoping to stem the tide of suggestions. “Water’s fine, thank you.”

“You’ve got it,” Dave said before tilting his head and making twin awkward gestures with both hands involving his pointer fingers. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

It wasn’t until after he’d disappeared into, presumably, the kitchen that Karkat realized he’d been making finger guns. What a dork. Not that Karkat was any more suave, but he liked to think he was at least less childish. He tried to supplant the rush of fondness he felt by recalling just how pissed he’d been with this manchild this morning. It was not one hundred percent successful.

Dave returned with two glasses: water for Karkat, and apple juice for himself. “Take a seat,” he insisted as he set the glasses on the coffee table (sans coasters). “It won’t bite.”

Gingerly, Karkat took a seat on the ancient futon. The padding was so thin, he could feel the bars beneath. It was going to take a while to become unbearable, and he hoped this hang out? date? didn’t last long enough for that to happen. Just as he’d been about to reach for the water, suddenly uncertain whether he actually ought to drink anything Dave gave him, Dave flopped down onto the futon beside him like a sack of gangly flour. “Dave!”

“S’up?” Dave asked, grinning. 

“Don’t ‘s’up’ me--,” Karkat managed to stop himself from calling Dave an asshole, but only just. “Just don’t ‘s’up’ me. Speak like a normal person.” He realized he was making a mistake as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Sorry, I--”

“Dude,” Dave said, his grin dropping away, “Karkat, you don’t have to apologise for every kind of mean thing you say. I’m a big boy: I can take it.” 

Karkat supposed he shouldn’t be surprised: he’d never been good at pretending to be a good person. If he could have managed that feat for any length of time, he wouldn’t be in this position. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as dryly as he could. 

“I’m serious.” Dave sat up and turned to face Karkat head on, and Karkat saw his own annoyed expression mirrored in the black lenses. “I haven’t known you very long, and maybe I shouldn’t say anything, but--”

“You’re right,” Karkat interrupted, feeling his tenuous hold on his temper slipping. “You shouldn’t say anything.” After taking a moment to make sure he wasn’t going to say anything he didn’t mean to, he spoke again. “Let’s just watch the movie and eat some microwaved popcorn. Does that sound like something we could do? Or would you like to keep pretending you have some deep insights into my character as though we’ve known each other longer than three days?”

Dave raised his hands, and Karkat realized he’d sounded far more aggressive than the situation warranted. At this rate, he wouldn’t even get a chance to lose this asshole! Nice job, Vantas: stellar work. “No, you’re right. I’ll step off.” Dave said softly. He got off of the futon with far more grace than he’d flopped onto it with. “You just put the movie in, and I’ll, uh, I’ll make the popcorn.”

Karkat watched him go before putting his head in his hands. Well, fuck. As though this whole situation hadn’t been awkward before. He should just leave. Just leave, forget about his stupid article, and stop dragging this stupidly likeable idiot down with him. He should. 

He stayed where he was. 

---

Dave took maybe longer than he absolutely needed to to prepare the popcorn. As much as he liked to consider himself a smooth operator, he could tell when he’d made a mistake, and he wanted to give the guy in the other room a chance to cool down. What made it made it worse was that Karkat had been right to get mad at him: Dave barely knew him. In his place, Dave would probably be pissed, too. 

Even so, Dave didn’t think he was wrong about the conclusions he’d come to. It was obvious that Karkat was, for whatever reason, putting on a show for Dave’s sake. Honestly, it was kind of creepy. If he understood why Karkat felt the need to do that, he’d feel better about it.

But it wasn’t his business. Not yet. Maybe you had to reach a certain level on the boyfriend echeladder before that kind of thing was something you talked about. It would probably help if they were actually boyfriends and not just newly dating, too. There seemed to be at least one obvious solution to that problem.

Dave could be patient. After all, he still had eleven days or so to get Karkat to at least like him enough to be his plus one at Rose’s wedding. It wasn’t all he wanted anymore, but it'd be enough to start with. As Rose had so often told him, start with small goals. 

He poured an obscene amount of butter over the popcorn in the bowl and headed out to the living room. Karkat was bent over, fiddling with the DVD player, and when he looked up at Dave, his mouth was curved somewhat upwards. “What movie do you have for us?”

Karkat stood. “Coming to America.” He made his way back to the futon and sat down as though worried he might fall through if he sat down too quickly. “It’s more comedy than romantic, so I thought you might enjoy it more.”

That sounded vaguely familiar. “Okay.” Dave joined him on the futon, taking care not to startle him this time. “Let’s get this party started.”

---

Karkat had hoped bringing a comedy would hold Dave’s attention enough to keep him from talking through the whole thing. He’d been mistaken. Yes, a lot of what Dave said was funny, but it just never fucking stopped. Finally, Karkat couldn’t take it anymore.

He grabbed the remote and paused the movie. Then he very deliberately set the remote back down. “I want you to listen to me, Dave. Are you listening?”

Dave looked confused, but he nodded. “Yeah, I’m listening. Do you have something you want to tell me? I’m all ears. Lay it on me.”

God, he couldn’t even listen without rambling! “Would it kill you to shut up?” He saw Dave’s eyebrows peek over the tops of his glasses. A part of him told him to reconsider his current course of action, but naturally, Karkat could never abide by a piece of good advice. “Would it literally cause you to drop dead if you couldn’t expel your idiocy out of your mouth like a goddamned septic pipe full of half-formed metaphors and bullshit? Would your head explode? Can we try that experiment and see what happens?” Karkat felt his fingernails biting into his palms and realized he’d clenched his fists. “What do you say, Dave? Wait, I’ve changed my mind: don’t say anything. Let me bask in the gentle ethereal glow of silence for a moment. Can you do that for me, Dave? Can you let me bask? Will the endless flow of words finally cease?”

‘No’ was clearly the answer to that question since Dave was already opening his mouth. Then, to Karkat’s utter shock, he shut it again. His expression wasn’t ever easy to read with those douche shades he insisted on wearing all the time, but now it was completely closed off. Even the eyebrows had lowered back to their original position.

Silence stretched between them. 

Karkat felt sick to his stomach. Shit. Shit. He really just couldn’t do it, could he? Couldn’t pretend even for a few hours that he was a normal person. Well, so much for this experiment. Time to write off this little adventure. Was it worth even trying to apologise? Before he could decide, Dave made the decision for him. 

He was clapping. “Damn, just got owned,” he said, a wide grin splitting his face. “You owned me, Karkat. You should feel proud. Not everyone gets own this,” he gestured to himself. “I just hope you know what you’re getting into: I’m barely house trained.”

For an embarrassingly high number of seconds, all Karkat could do was blink. “You’re not mad?”

“Fuck no,” Dave said, still grinning. “I’m a big kid now. I’ve graduated from diapers all the way to pull ups. It takes more than a finely crafted, well-deserved take down to take me down.” The grin softened. “This is what I was trying to say before: I want to date you, not some weird super agreeable version of you. If you want to tell me off for talking too much, fucking go for it. You’ve got a way with insults--it’s a gift. Frankly, I’m insulted you’ve been keeping it to yourself.”

“There’s more where that comes from, asshole,” Karkat said before he could stop himself. To his amazement, Dave still seemed more amused than anything. A strange mixture of anger and fondness welled up inside him. “Stop grinning at me, and watch the fucking movie.” He picked up the remote and hesitated. “You don’t have to be silent,” he said, still feeling a little guilty over his earlier outburst, “just maybe less talking?”

Dave made a big show of running a zipper over his lips. Then he immediately ruined it by saying, “Scouts honor, Karkat. My word is bond. You can cash that shit at the bank.”

Karkat tried to picture Dave as a boy scout and failed. “Right.” He pressed play and the movie resumed. Of course, Dave still talked during the movie, but the sheer volume of words had slowed to a moderate stream rather than the full-bore blasting Karkat had been subjected to earlier. As he sat there on the futon, occasionally answering Dave’s stupid comments with barbs of his own, he felt warm in a way that was only nominally connected to the temperature of the arm he was leaning against. He felt… content.

---

Overall, Operation Hang Out had been a big success. It had been rocky in places, but again, overall, Dave felt like he’d hit his major mission objectives. A movie was watched, pizza was consumed, and Karkat finally, finally, did something other than apologise every time a hint of the person he’d met at the cafe had come through. He didn’t necessarily want to keep pissing Karkat off, but that bitch fit he’d thrown had been epic. 

Karkat wasn’t the kind of guy Dave had expected to find himself interested in. At least, he’d never thought he’d have a grumpy asshole kink. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed the more quiet parts of Karkat’s visit, too. It had felt nice to sit on the futon with someone leaning against his shoulder. Dave wasn’t a sap, no, not a suave guy like him, but he couldn’t deny he’d like to do it again some time. 

He considered texting Rose as he’d planned to earlier before deciding not to. After all, he’d managed the first crisis all on his own, and she might consider it cheating if he got her help. No, for now at least, this bird was flying solo.

---

* Clean apartment. Finger guns. Puts too much butter on popcorn. Also talks during movies outside theater setting. Likes getting insulted. Kink?  Wants to date the “real” me. Delusional. Comfortable arm. Had a nice time. Had acceptable time. Clothes in his shower??? 

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

Unexpected Arrival -4

Pairing: Eventual Bucky x Reader, Possible Steve x Reader

Summary: As if working with the Avengers wasn’t exciting enough…. an unexpected visitor is about to change your life forever.

A/N: This part kinda took a little angsty turn! After the next chapter, there may be a little time jump.... i havent decided yet. Thank you to everyone who is reading/sharing, it means alot!

I was cleared by Bruce, as long as i promised to take it easy for a couple of days! Bucky walked with me back to the residential floor, Evie safely tucked into his right arm as i leant on his left for a bit of support.

"Hey Buck, lets just stop in the common room for a bit. I need to eat and not be stuck in a bed for a while"

"You sure? Bruce said to rest...."

"I'll be resting just fine on the sofa, while you make me a sandwich"

"Okay, deal" he chuckled shaking his head as we walked into the common room. I walked over to the sofa and gently lowered myself down, Bucky standing close by waiting for me to get comfortable.

"I'm not sure how much rest you'll get when the team realise you and Evie are in here" he said leaning forward to place Evie in my arms once he saw i was settled "what do you want on your sandwich doll?"

"I really dont mind, id eat anything im that hungry" i scoffed as i snuggled into the sofa with Evie laying on my chest.

"Well i'll be damned!!" Came the booming voice of Sam Wilson.

"Shhhhh she's sleeping bird brain!" Bucky snapped as he playfully shoved Sams shoulder.

"Sorry! I didnt know!" He mumbled as he walked over and sat across from me "i heard what happened but i thought they were all just messing with me!!"

"Nope its true, surprise huh?"

"Id say!! She's beautiful Y/N" Sam flashed a huge grin as he looked down at Evie.

"Thank you Sam" i smiled proudly and looked over to see Bucky keeping a close eye on us while he made my sandwich.

"What are you? The baby bodyguard?" Sam laughed teasing Bucky, Sam had obviously noticed that Bucky was keeping a close eye on us.

"Try the baby daddy!" Bucky replied with a dead straight face and murder in his eyes.

"What??!!" Sam practically squealed at Bucky's reply.

"Oh my god Buck.... did you really just say that?" I laughed at him, his eyes met mine and his facade broke as he burst out laughing "im sorry! I heard Tony say it yesterday" Bucky shrugged as he walked over with the plate holding my sandwich.

"Please don't ever say that again"

"Wait.... are you serious? Or are you fucking with me?? i honestly cant tell!"

Sam said shaking his head and looking super confused.

"Language! Don't swear around my daughter!" Bucky slapped Sam on the back of the head as he passed.

"Switch please" i smiled up at Bucky before taking the plate, once his hands were free he carefully picked up Evie and had her held against his chest in no time.

"Wow..... you’re like... good at the dad thing Buck" Sam said sounding surprised.

"I had younger sisters growing up, it was a long time ago but I'm pretty sure its still the same" he chuckled.

"Wait, how long have you two...."

"You can take this one Buck I'm eating" i said with a shit eating grin.

"Thanks Y/N" he rolled his eyes, looked at Sam and shrugged "it was one time, we're not together.... but we're in this together. Right doll?" He looked at me and smiled.

"Yep, what he said" i replied trying to keep my tone steady, it hurt a little hearing how casual he made it sound. It took me back to when he had acted like nothing had happened between us  after we finally slept together all those months ago.

"I cant believe y'all have a baby!"

"Neither can we!" I said around a mouthful of my sandwich "imagine my surprise when Bruce told me i didn't have stomach flu and that i was in fact in labour!"

"Thats crazy sweetheart"

"Sure was, scariest thing I've ever been through Sammy....And the pain.... nothing compares to that!"

"But it was worth it, look what you got out of it" Sam was hovering around Evie clearly wanting to hold her but Bucky wasn't parting with her just yet.

"She was worth every bit of the pain".

Later that afternoon I was walking back to the common room after taking a shower and getting into clean clothes, i stopped by the door when i heard Sam and Bucky talking in hushed voices.

"Oh come on man! These girls are hot! You cant pass that up!" Sam was saying to Bucky.

"I don't know Sam, i don't really think me going out on a date is a good idea right now"

"Why the hell not?? Just because you got a kid now? Im sure Evie wont mind"

"Y/N's been through a lot man, i just feel like i need to be here for her and Evie"

"Buck come onnnn! they will both probably be asleep by 7pm! the date is at 8, you dont need to stay that long..."

I couldn't believe what i was hearing! I pushed the door open making sure it was loud enough that they heard me. Both men turned to face me, Sam with a huge fake smile and Bucky just looked plain guilty.

"Sorry did i interrupt something?" I asked casually as i flipped on the kettle to make some tea.

"No doll of course not"

"I was just telling Bucky about a date i arranged for him.... a double date actually. I needed a wingman"

"Oh...."

"And I was just telling Sam that i didn't think it was a good idea. I thought it'd be best if i stayed here incase you and Evie needed me"

"If you wanna go Buck don't let us stop you" i snapped turning to face them "i'll be fine with Evie on my own"

"See! I told you she'd be cool!"

I was suddenly feeling so angry and on the verge of tears all at once! I just needed to get away from them, I walked over to Bucky and reached down taking Evie.

"She needs feeding" i said simply "go on your date Bucky" i mumbled as i turned around and headed for my room.

I was sat on my bed nursing Evie with tears running down my face when i heard the knock on my door. I chose to ignore it hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and leave me alone.

"Y/N.... doll i know you’re in there i can hear you" Steve called from outside making me sigh and wipe my tears away.

"Im just feeding Evie, i'll be out in a minute"

"Can i come in?.... i can tell you’re upset sweetheart"

"Im fine Steve..." i called back but burst into tears again. The next thing i know the door clicked open and Steve came in, he pushed the door closed behind him and locked it before rushing to my side. He sat next to me on my bed pulling me into him carefully while trying not to disrupt Evie's feeding.

"You wanna tell me whats wrong?" He asked quietly as he stroked my arm trying to calm me down.

"Im just a huge hormonal mess right now Steve" i mumbled not wanting to admit what had set me off "its been a lot to adjust to i guess and i think its all just catching up to me"

"You sure thats all? You know you can talk to me Y/N.... about anything"

"I know" i nodded "I'm not even sure why i got so upset.... not really"

"So something did upset you"

"It was stupid..... don't worry about it" i told him as i sat up seeing that Evie was done feeding, i held her blanket over my chest so i didn't expose myself to Steve.

"Could you take her for a second while i sort this out?"

"Sure" he nodded happily taking Evie.

I straightened out my shirt and settled back against the bed watching Steve burp Evie. His huge hand was rested against her chest supporting her chin and jaw, his free hand gently rubbing her back.

"How do you even know how to wind a baby Steve?" I asked curiously, he looked like a pro!

"I may have done some research" he blushed a little "i wanted to know what kinda stuff needed to be done so i could help out if you needed me to"

I was suddenly crying again!!

"Oh god.... what?? Why are you crying?"

He asked starting to panic.

"That was really thoughtful of you Steve!  I cant believe you went to that effort for us... for Evie"

"Of course i did, gotta be there for my favourite girls" he said smiling just as Evie let out a little burp making us both laugh, it was the cutest little sound!

"So why are you in here crying? Talk to me" Steve said a few minutes later.

"Steve...."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with whatever the hell Sam and Bucky were bickering over would it?"

"Probably" I nodded as i picked at a thread on the blanket avoiding looking at Steve "Sam arranged a date for Bucky. I heard them talking.... Bucky said he didn't think he should go considering I've just given birth to his daughter. He feels like he needs to be here incase we need him" i shrugged "i want him to want to be here for her, i don't want him to feel like he has to.... like she's a burden to his dating life" i admitted to Steve then started to laugh at how stupid i sounded "i sound fucking crazy i know!"

"No you don't"

"I told him to go, told him that he should go on his date.... not to let us stop him, that i would be fine on my own"

"But you don't want him to go on that date do you" It wasn't a question, it was Steve stating a fact.

"No..."

"Y/N, why don't you just tell him that?"

"Because i'll sound like a crazy woman!! he doesn't owe me anything Steve, he’s not my boyfriend.... we didn't plan this" i rambled on not even sure if i was making any sense at all "yes, we have a daughter together now but that doesn't mean he has to put his life on hold. If he wants to date who am i to stop him?"

"And what about your feelings for Bucky?"

"W..what?" I asked wide eyed, caught off guard by Steve's comment.

"Im not blind doll, i see the way you are with him... the way you look at him. You love him" Steve stated smiling "and that was before you had Evie!"

"I.... i dont... shit. So what if i do huh?? Steve, it doesnt change the fact that he doesnt feel the same way!"

"How do you know that? Have you asked him??"

"Of course i haven't asked him!! But he made it clear enough back in Alaska" i shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

"if you had finally slept with the woman you loved.... would you act like nothing happened the next day?? Act like everything was normal, ignore her even. Go on dates with other women...."

"I wouldn't no"

"Exactly! There's no point in me telling Bucky how i feel because i know he will never feel the same".

"Y/N...."

"Its fine, honestly. I'll be okay, its just the hormones.... I'm over reacting" i shrugged "please don't say anything to him Steve.... i know he’s your best friend but this stays between us".

"I wont, i promise" he smiled sadly as he held my hand bringing it up to place a kiss on the back of it.

"Thank you Steve".

[xxxgrianeatsendermitesxxx]

Glass tower, paper crown.

A glass tower stood tall in the centre of the dark forest, dwarfing all the trees in comparison. Inside the very top of the tower sat a prince, a legendary prince lost to time. He sat by the window and stared out at the storm outside as the clouds swirled from the tip of the tower roof, lightning sparking around it. He'd been sat like that for centuries, never moving, constantly taking what was rumoured to be his last breath. Many brave heroes attempted to rescue him as his crown was fabled to give power over a civilization, some aimed to win his hand whilst some merely to snatch the crown from his head. Cleo Dwrdraig was once of the latter, she and her pirate crew had stormed the tower and she'd even reached the tower itself. She'd put her hand on the door separating her from the crown she so craved when she found it to be locked. Those are her only memories of that place, or the only ones she'll tell you anyway. She's retired from the pirate life now, an undead bar keep running [insert the name of Cleo's ship here] which is her old ship run aground. She's the go to mentor for any hero aiming to take on the towers many dangers and even brave the dragons keep, she'll give advice on how to get to that little wooden door but no one ever seems to make it quite as far as she did.

The king had heard of this magic crown of legend and after hearing how close he had been to losing his throne, he soon outlawed any hero who embarked on this quest. He made it par to treason for his peoples saftey, how could they trust some genocidal stranger to rule them successfully? He didn't think they could, so he outlawed it and truly feared the day that the prince would be rescued. He did however think that if he had the crown himself then he would be even more successful in protecting his loyal subjects. So without alerting his subject, he sent criminals sentenced to death to attempt to fetch the crown for him as a way to escape their execution. Most died trying but he didn't mind, they were due for an execution anyway. That's how he found himself in the presence of a killer, a thief, a saboteur and a treasonous hero.

"Gentlemen." The king began, pacing before them with his hand behind his back. "All four of you have been sentenced to death but I fear that the gallows is too kind a death for you men, I wish to have you preform a favour for me. Maybe then I will rethink your sentence." The hero looked up at him, his red arcana eye glowed in interest. "What sort of favour milord?" He intrigued with a small tilt of the head, clearly slightly concerned. The king smiled and sat down in the throne for a moment. "Oh don't worry doctor, this is a favour you'll enjoy. You four are to retrieve the crown from the glass tower, it will be safer under my protection. I fear what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands so you lot are going to put my fears to rest and go and get it for me. Understand?" The four nodded, in varying degrees of willingness. The doctor had a small smirk resting on his face while the assassin frowned in disapproval, the thief looked hesitant but sort of excited and the poor saboteur looked like he was about to cry. The king went on to explain what weapons they would be given and how to use them, he gave them their equipment and supplies then sent them on their way. He hoped that they would succeeded but he knew that he was probably just sending them to their graves.

They'd been given a day and the training field to get used to their weapons so they would be ready for their quest and currently the thief was sparring with the doctor and the sound of crystals clashing against hard steel could be heard. The saboteur sat on the grass and fiddled with his own arcana tool in order to figure out how to use it to heal his new partners I'm crime. He was Captain Mumbo Jumbo, previously a captain in the kings army before he was found to have rigged a weapon to explode, he was of a level head and a nervous disposition. It was this nervous disposition that caused him to squeak in surprise when the assassin sat down next to him, having finished his target practice. The assassin was only known to the public as '85' but no one knew what the numbers meant but the swede introduced himself as Iskall. It was the first word he said whme he sat down. "Iskall, I'm Iskall, who are you?" Mumbo looked at him with a smiled and a nod. "Captain Mumbo Oliver Jumbo, it's a pleasure to be working with you Iskall." He smiled and put out a hand for the swede to shake, surprised when Iskall started laughing and gave him a high five. "Ex Captain you mean?" Mumbo rolled his eyes and chuckled, nodding in amusement. "I suppose you're right there, the king did rebuke my title when I was sentenced to death." He pondered for a second before adding. "Although if we succeed then I will get to keep my title so I suppose we're both right in a way." Iskall chuckled at that, nodding and sharpening his rapier. "Well then Captain, how about we spar?"

Mumbo nodded and stood, unsheathing his longsword and readying his stance. Iskall chuckled and leaped up, also preparing his stance. "Why'd you feel the need to carry such a hefty weapon then Captain? Any reasons?" Mumbo chuckled and rolled his eyes at the assassin, showing off his marvelous weapon. "Her name is Celestial Crimson, Celest for short and she's seen war and been in many more battles then any of your weapons ever have. Show her some respect." The swede burst into laughter as he lunged forward with his rapier, grinning as Mumbo parried it with ease. "You army types are so odd dude, why'd you guys name your weapons? Thats just weird." Mumbo chuckled and swiped at Iskall, manoeuvering the blade light it was as light as air. "Says the man with the glowing eye!" He called back as he dodged another lunge from Iskall, who was impressed with the brits prowess, Mumbo was clearly a huge loss for the army. The man wasn't the best at sparring, Iskall beat him three different ways, but it was clear he was an expert at tanking. A clear asset to the team and it was obvious why Mumbo had been picked for this task. The other two finished sparring and they switched partners, the thief was equally as good of a tank as the captain but could also beat him in spar easily. The doctor had his work cut out keeping Iskall down using mêlée weapons but could crush him easily with the assistance of his arcane magik.

They took a break for a lunch, sitting down on the grass with some meat pie as they talked and got to know each other. "So Captain, what /did/ you do to get sentenced to death?" Mumbo sighed at the doctors question and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well I caused a arcana weapon to explode and it...well it killed three soldiers." He chuckled nervously and changed that subject. "These are awfully nice pies, I always loved the royal cooks food." They all nodded, a little jealous that Mumbo had gotten the chance to try that so often. Then they started talking about their quest and how to begin, the doctor told then of the undead barmaid who had gotten further then anyone else. They all agreed that they should go to her for advice on how to tackle this mission, maybe she could even tag along. They went over what each member of the party should do and all agreed that the Captain should stick to being support even if he had fought in a war previously. The doctor deemed himself the leader and none of them could really argue with that as Ren was decreed group guard dog and Iskall showed off his incredible ice based arcana and the slime-like acid of his own design that would make a valuable asset to the group. They sorted out their roles and once their allotted time was over, they set out to see this barmaid the doctor had mentioned.

[imnotinclinedtomaturity]

Love Yourself (Chapter 32)

title: Love Yourself summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista. chapter words: 17k story words: 267k (so far) chapter: 32/? rating: m warnings: language, alcohol, sex mentions, some bi/homophobia, eventual explicit smut, some depression, consensual d/s undertones genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn [[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]

a/n: um so this is like a month overdue... but it's long af. and i've cut down what was going to go in this chapter. i hope it is worth the wait <3 massive thanks as always to @auroraphilealis for being my biffle, beta, and cheerleader. she's been by my side as a beat this chapter to death and listened to a million rambles of why it was important to me to keep it all together (which i only mostly ended up doing) and other pretentious shit. she's wonderful xx

note: this chapter contains more explicit themes than past ones. unlike past chapters, outside of the marked smut, there is risque material. skim at your own discretion if you are uncomfortable, but it wasn't set up in a way i could mark

By the time filming had finally ended, Dan felt emotionally fucking exhausted. Being so open and honest on national television, and having to be so careful with his words, had drained him of just about everything. There wasn’t an ounce of propriety left in him, and at this point, all he wanted was to be taken care of and not have to fucking think for a little bit.

Letting go — whatever that meant — was impossible on set. From the second he’d finished performing his song and had ducked backstage, he’d been craving a hug from Phil — a proper hug, not the one-armed bro-hug Phil had given him. But stagehands were running everywhere, and there didn’t seem to be a bloody centimeter of privacy, so Dan resisted. The minute he got in the uber, he could collapse against Phil.

But for now, resting his foot against Phil’s as he stood behind the stage wall would have to suffice. Dan closed his eyes, replaying his interview in his head as he listened to the loud hum of the audience laughing and applauding and — holy fuck. He’d actually just done that. He’d actually talked about his most personal matters, something he’d taken great lengths to keep secret, in front of all of those people. The studio held what? Two hundred people?

Two hundred people who were now privy to Dan’s rambling thoughts about sexuality and boxes, who now had a whole fountain of knowledge about Dan’s sexual and romantic preferences. Two hundred people who had seen Dan be open and vulnerable and honest.

The gravity of the interview smacked Dan in the face, and that’s when he realized, really truly realized, that those two hundred people were just the beginning. In a few short hours, that interview would play on national American tv, would stream on youtube worldwide. And sure, he had known that while he was filming, but he hadn’t known. Not in the way it was all hitting him now.

Dan swallowed thickly and let his hand brush against Phil’s. He wanted out of here. He wanted a hug. He wanted to think about anything other than this interview, his fate, his audience, just for a little bit anyway.

The twenty minutes it took to get an all clear lasted about five years. Dan was so on edge and ready to leave that he was already ordering a car before a stagehand had even finished dismissing them. Without waiting for proper goodbyes, Dan seized Phil’s wrist and dragged him out of the studio, down the lift, out the back door — and not the back door that fans often waited for celebrities at, either.

Dan felt a wave of relief rush through him when he burst out of the exit and found a black car already stalled next to the curb. Rushing over to the car, Dan wrenched open the back door and ushered Phil inside.

The relief coursing through Dan’s veins ran cold when the driver greeted him though. The way he confirmed Dan’s name, the breathlessness in his voice and the distinct spark in his eye — they were the unmistakable signs that someone recognized him.

Perhaps the ride back to the hotel wouldn’t be as relaxing as Dan had hoped.

Still, Dan shuffled in after Phil, leaving the full space of the middle seat between them. And less than a block later, Dan’s hunch was proven right when the driver asked which show he had been recording for at Rockefeller Center.

Not wanting to actually engage with this stranger, Dan grunted a reply and made a show of putting in his headphones, even though he didn’t actually play any music. It may have been rude, but it worked. The driver didn’t ask any follow up questions.

Of course, that didn’t stop his gaze from flickering into the rear view mirror every other bloody second. Dan felt like an animal in a glass box, on display and on edge. Phil was right there, but Dan didn’t feel like he could reach out, not under such intense observation.

Like Dan had told himself and Phil and Louise a million times, tonight was about talking about bisexuality, about giving that topic all the attention it deserved, not about him and Phil. The last thing Dan wanted was to have their relationship inadvertently outed by a random crew member or uber driver.

So Dan held back. Instead of sinking into his boyfriend’s side and letting himself get lost in Phil, Dan stayed on his side of the backseat and fell prey to one of the most volatile coping strategies he had — the internet.

Dan googled the average number of viewers of The Tonight Show and discovered it was over two million a night — and that wasn’t including the extra views that youtube brought in. And that, naturally, brought Dan to his next google search, where he discovered that The Tonight Show’s youtube channel had a whopping nineteen million subscribers. Subscribers who would undoubtedly have access to Dan’s rants about bisexuality, and his recently failed relationship, in just a few hours time.

Overwhelmed by the sheer significance of everything, Dan spread his legs obnoxiously far apart so that one knee pressed into Phil’s. Phil nudged back deliberately, a silent reassurance of his presence, a subtle demonstration of his support.

It wasn’t the bear hug Dan craved, but it was enough for now. The slight pressure of Phil’s leg against his own helped Dan stay grounded as he switched gears and fell down a wikipedia black hole about most viewed celebrity interviews. Unsurprisingly, videos about famous entertainers coming out were high on the list.

Right. No pressure there.

By the time the car pulled up to the hotel, Dan’s desire for real physical contact had developed into flat out desperation. He just needed this goddamn weight to ease back for a fucking minute.

Without waiting for Phil, Dan hiked his backpack over his shoulder and bolted into the hotel, through the lobby, and straight to the lifts.

It seemed to take bloody forever for a lift to actually arrive, but it took even longer for Phil to catch up. Dan had to pass on two elevators before he finally saw Phil entering the hotel, lumbering awkwardly across the lobby, weighed down with Dan’s guitar.

Oops.

In Dan’s haste to make it to their room, he’d forgotten that his guitar — his favorite guitar — was in the trunk. Eyeing Phil’s lopsided stance, Dan grimaced and took a small step towards him.

“Sorry,” Dan said apologetically as he pressed the up button for the third time. “Lemme take that,” he offered, reaching out for the worn handle of his guitar case.

With absolutely none of the coordination that Dan had developed over the years, Phil switched the guitar to his opposite hand, suddenly making it much harder for Dan to easily swipe it out of his grip.

“Phillll,” Dan whined, reaching across Phil’s body for the handle.

“Dannnnnn,” Phil retaliated as he stuck his tongue out and held the guitar even further out of Dan’s reach. His bicep was quaking, and his body definitely wasn’t used to the extra awkwardly large weight, but Dan couldn’t help appreciating how fucking sexy it was that, for the first time in ages, he had someone that was willing — determined, even — to carry Dan’s shit.

The bell on another lift finally dinged, and the doors opened. Dan’s attention snapped from Phil’s playful face to the empty lift. Relief rushing in just by the sheer presence of the lift, Dan gestured for Phil to take the lead. Luckily, it was that in-between time of night when most people were at dinner or something of the sort, and they had the lift to themselves. Dan took advantage of the brief moment of privacy and stepped in close to Phil, his knuckles gently brushing against Phil’s hand, the loving fingers that were inexpertly wrapped around the handle of Dan’s heavy guitar.

“Thanks,” Dan murmured, the teasingly childish tone suddenly vanishing, and a disgustingly sweet one taking over. In what he hoped wasn’t too cheesy of a move, Dan closed the small distance between them and pressed a chaste kiss to Phil’s cheek.

Brows furrowed, Phil cocked his head at Dan. “Dan, it’s just a guitar, I don’t mind.”

“Mmm,” Dan hummed, stepping back to his place. He watched the numbers climb as they passed floor after floor, observing Phil out of the corner of his eye. Phil was quiet, but shot Dan an odd look, his expression a mix of pointed and sad. It utterly baffled Dan for a second — until he remembered their conversation from yesterday morning, that was.

Phil didn’t have to say a word, Dan could practically hear him pointing out that his reaction was a bit unhealthy. Appreciation was fine, sure, but the amount of surprise he felt at a partner doing something so simplistically nice probably didn’t speak highly of his past relationships.

Wanting out of that moment before Phil could force Dan to properly think about his reaction, Dan darted out of the lift as soon as the doors opened and hurried down the hallway. Behind him, Phil’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, pausing just out of reach when Dan came to a halt outside of their door and fumbled to find his room key.

Maybe nerves or exhilaration or exhaustion was still gripping Dan, or maybe it was the knowledge that he had Phil and a hotel room and a foreign city all to himself tonight, but it took him three tries of swiping their card before the light finally flickered green.

The click of the latch was a wave of relief, and Dan found himself shoving their door open with far more force and enthusiasm than was necessary. Without waiting for Phil, Dan barrelled into their room and crossed the space in three quick strides, coming to a stop in front of their bed and spinning around to stare impatiently at Phil.

Fucking finally, they were alone.

Phil was a few steps behind him, and didn’t seem to have any of the urgency that Dan had. Dan watched anxiously as Phil walked towards him at the pace of an impregnated, fat sloth. Carefully, and ungodly slowly, Phil sat the guitar down in front of the bed and finally, finally his hands were free.

Dan didn’t wait for Phil to straighten up before launching himself into Phil’s arms, physically demanding to be held. The sudden weight of Dan threw Phil off balance, causing him to stumble backwards towards the bed.

“Oi,” Phil gasped as he tumbled to the bed, just barely managing to not fall all the way onto his back under Dan’s momentum. Even as he fell, his hands landed on Dan’s hips and pulled him down to the bed too. Just for a moment, Dan found himself awkwardly leaning into Phil, not quite sitting, not quite standing.

With a flustered giggle, Dan shifted his body so he was straddling Phil’s lap instead. Dan’s hands slid up from Phil’s waist, and looped around his neck, finally pulling him into the private and intimate embrace Dan had been dying for.

“Well hello there,” Phil greeted, his hands dipping under the hem of Dan’s jumper, his fingers thumbing over the jut of Dan’s hipbone. Phil’s voice was low, and his touch was sultry, and Dan couldn’t hold back a shaky sigh. He felt so damn needy, and the soft drag of Phil’s fingers on his bare skin was already quieting his screaming mind some.

Dan shifted back up, just enough so that he could look Phil in the eye. The cheeky and smug look on Phil’s face wasn’t surprising — maybe someday Phil would stop looking so satisfied about the reactions he pulled from Dan, but they clearly weren’t there yet.

“Hi,” Dan responded with a smile, not even bothering to hide the effect Phil was having on him. Dan tipped his head forward, closing the small distance between them, and pressed his lips to Phil’s.

Despite Phil’s teasing tone, he let Dan take what he wanted, matching Dan kiss for kiss and touch for touch. Dan wasn’t sure who licked whose lips first, who opened their mouth for who first. He did, however, realize that it only took a short minute for them to escalate from sweet kisses to proper snogging.

Before they could get too carried away, Dan pulled back, panting slightly. Even though he needed a decent lung capacity for singing, it seemed that kissing Phil for two minutes stole his breath in a way that a long high note never could.

“Where’s — the room service — menu?” Dan asked, his words coming in pants as his gaze drifted to the bedside table and then the desk, searching for a helpful booklet.

Phil fingers slipped down from the middle of Dan’s waist to the low hem of his pants. His brows furrowed and he cocked his head to the side. “Why?” he asked.

Huffing an exaggerated sigh, Dan shot Phil an incredulous look. “Because I’ve had a crazy fucking day and would like to let loose a little…?” After knowing Phil for nearly three full months, Dan was rather surprised to have to point out the obvious to him.

“Well yeah,” Phil huffed and cleared his throat. His pupils were blown wide, and now it was Dan’s turn to feel pleased with himself; he might be a mess from two minutes of kissing Phil, but Phil was just as flustered after two minutes of kissing Dan. “I know that much.” Phil rolled his eyes and slid his hands out of Dan’s trousers to a less scandalous spot, tracing his thumbs lightly Dan’s prominent hip bones. “I just meant, I’m surprised that you don’t want to go out since we only have a few nights here.”

Dan shrugged, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as he contemplated Phil’s comment. He’d definitely had some great nights in the bars of New York, but they’d all come with the unfortunate price tag of at least half a dozen paparazzi photos. That wasn’t what Dan wanted tonight — tonight he just wanted Phil.

Tentatively, Dan let his hands drift from Phil’s shoulders up to his bare neck, his thumbs softly rubbing along Phi’s pulse points. “I mean… It’s not that I don’t want to enjoy New York, I just…” Dan couldn’t help the way his gaze drifted down from Phil’s, landing instead on his lips. Coyly — or at least he hoped it was coy and sexy — Dan slipped his hands down Phil’s neck and under the collar of his button-up shirt. “I’d rather not be bothered by a fan or the media tonight, ya know?” Just in case the meaning behind his words wasn’t clear enough, Dan dipped his thumb further down Phil’s shirt and grazed his collarbone suggestively.

“Mmm, that’s fair,” Phil murmured. Taking Dan’s lead, Phil’s hands nudged up higher on Dan’s hips, pushing his leather jacket and tight jumper up even higher so Phil’s fingers could brush over the bare skin near the top of Dan’s ribs. “But what if I told you I knew a place where we’d be left alone?”

Cocking an eyebrow, Dan straightened up. He’d been in New York. He’d been to elite clubs, he’d been to dive bars, he’d been to locals only restaurants — and on every occasion, he’d been photographed. In his experience, this was a city of famous people, and in turn, that meant it was a city of photographs and tabloids, a city of journalists searching for their next break.

“What kind of place is this?” Dan asked skeptically.

“Well,” Phil bit his lip, suddenly looking a little hesitant. “Technically it’s a gay club. But the standard cover is high enough to keep out most fans, and they’ve got an absurd amount of security, just in case.”

“How do you know about a place like that?” Dan pried; he’d been to New York half a dozen times and he’d never heard of any exclusive gay clubs. But even as Dan questioned Phil’s knowledge, he could feel the excitement growing in his stomach. He hadn’t been to a proper gay bar since he was seventeen, and never with a partner — at least not someone who wasn’t just a fling. He couldn’t deny that the idea was hotter than hell.

“Oh. Uh, well,” Phil shrugged awkwardly, sounding shifty. His eyes darted away from Dan’s, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Another gay youtuber has a friend who is a bouncer there?” he explained, but he sounded so unsure that it came out as a question.

Dan eyed Phil suspiciously. “How jealous should I be of this guy right now?”

“Of Tyler? Not at all. No way. Never.” Phil shook his head vehemently, his gaze flicking back to Dan.

“And Tyler is…?” Dan prompted slowly, raising his eyebrows and shaking his head.

“He’s just a casual friend who lives in LA. We collaborate when we’re in the same city,” Phil shrugged.

Dan narrowed his eyes skeptically. “And the bouncer?” he pushed, sensing that there was something that Phil wasn’t admitting.

Phil’s gaze shifted to the side again, his cheeks growing red. The grip on Dan’s chest slipped, Phil’s hands dropping down to the base of Dan’s hips.

Dan’s heart followed Phil’s hands, plummeting down into his stomach and then somehow sinking even further. Just from Phil’s reaction, Dan knew he’d figured it out.

“It was one time and really didn’t matter,” Phil admitted, sounding defeated, embarrassed. “But he’ll let us both in for free and there won’t be cameras there.”

Dan was surprised to find that he wasn’t just jealous, he was almost repulsed. His stomach churned as his brain supplied images of Phil and some gorgeous boy tangled in bed together, making him feel nauseous.

“I’m not sure I want to meet a guy you’ve fucked,” Dan said, aiming for teasing and joking, but as soon as he said it, he was sure the insecurity shined through. “I mean, what if he’s cuter than me?” Dan chuckled half-heartedly, doing his best to salvage his dignity. He really didn’t want Phil to think he was a jealous dick or clingy or something else completely annoying. Even if it was kind of true.

Phil laughed — genuinely laughed, not an awkward chuckle like before. “First off,” he started, his voice actually light and humorous, not forced casual like Dan’s. “There’s no way anyone has ever, or could ever, be cuter than you. Not that I'm aiming to find someone else.” As if to prove his point, Phil’s fingers dipped into Dan’s jeans and pointedly hooked under his pants. It wasn’t just a little this time; now Phil’s hands were properly inside of Dan’s pants, his fingers inching towards more intimate parts of Dan’s body. “And second off,” Phil continued, “I suffered through two months of knowing you were sleeping with someone else. I think five seconds of interaction with a random guy I slept with a year ago doesn’t compare.”

“Uh!!” Dan gasped in protest, his voice high pitched and offended. “I didn’t sleep with her for the last month and you know it!”

“Yeah, now I know,” Phil agreed begrudgingly. “But I didn’t then and I was so damn envious.” Phil licked his lips slowly. “Plus,” he added, his voice lower and gruff. “You were sleeping with her in the beginning, and I had to watch you come in with marks all up and down your neck that proved it.” As if to make his point, Phil dragged his fingers along Dan’s sensitive neck possessively, thumbing over the spot where coverup was hiding a hickey on Dan’s pulse point.

Dan’s stomach twisted in reaction, and a shiver ran down his back — whether it was the clear jealous attitude or the cursing that was turning him on, he wasn’t sure. There was a part of him that was willing to forfeit embracing any amount of New York tonight, that wanted to rock his hips forward and show Phil just how little reason he had to be jealous now, to take full advantage of the nice hotel room they had.

“Come on, let me take you out, buy you a few drinks. Maybe a nice dinner first, if you’re hungry,” Phil pleaded.

There was another part of Dan — an unexpectedly bigger part of him — that was itching to go out with Phil, to find a different way to show Phil that Dan was all his, even if it wasn’t the approach he was used to. And besides, after so many months of being dragged out by his ex, something in Dan couldn’t help finding the fact that Phil wanted to take him out, just for the sake of being together, incredibly sexy.

“Alright,” Dan agreed, conceding even as he let his hips suggestively rock against Phil’s just once — he couldn’t resist, not if he wasn’t going to have the chance to do so for a while. “We should definitely have something to eat first, though. I haven’t eaten nearly enough today and I reckon I’ll be drunk after half a cocktail if we don’t get food.”

“Fair enough,” Phil agreed as his hands slipped out of Dan’s pants, lightly gripping Dan’s hips and guiding him backwards. Tilting slightly to the side, Phil fished his phone out of his back pocket. “What kind of food do you want, then?”

“Doesn’t matter. Something with a view of the city might be nice,” Dan suggested with a small shrug. Sliding all the way off Phil’s lap, Dan made his way to the mirror, fluffing at his hair. The makeup from earlier still looked nice; the eyeliner wasn’t smudgy and the color on his cheeks still seemed to accentuate his features. Eyes meeting Phil in the mirror, Dan added, “Nowhere so fancy we can’t wear the clothes we’re wearing to the club, though.”

He knew if they had to come back to the hotel to change there was no way Phil was convincing him to leave again.

“I know just the place,” Phil said decisively, his gaze turning back to his phone.

*******

Less than an hour later, an uber was dropping Dan and Phil just outside of Times Square with an apology that they couldn’t get them any closer to their destination. During what felt like an infinitely-long car ride for Dan’s curious nerves, Phil had refused to tell Dan where he was taking him, and for a split second, Dan had been worried Phil was going to usher him to one of the hot dog or pizza carts littered around the square before leading him to a bench to people watch.

Not that Dan was strictly opposed to street food — he certainly didn’t want Phil to splurge on another fancy meal so soon after their last date. But also, he’d learned from experience what some vendors’ food will do to stomachs, and if they were planning to head to a club later that night, they should at least try to spare themselves diarrhea and food poisoning.

Phil took a hard right before they made it to the throngs of people though, his hand on Dan’s lower back to guide him in the right direction. The sudden turn led them… into the valet entrance to the Marriott?

Dan turned to look at Phil, but his face was perfectly neutral. “Phil, did you bring us halfway across Manhattan to eat at a different hotel’s restaurant?” Dan asked dubiously, letting Phil lead him through the revolving doors and into the hotel lobby.

“Yeah, we’re going to eat at the touristy hotel bar of a place we aren’t even staying,” Phil responded sarcastically. His hand dropped from Dan’s back, something that disappointed Dan until he followed Phil’s gaze to a gaggle of teenagers across the lobby. “Just trust me, Howell,” Phil teased, flashing Dan a coy smile as he pressed the call button for the lift, the doors immediately opening.

“If you insist,” Dan smirked, stepping into the lift after Phil. “You’re on thin ice though, Lester.” Despite the mock-warning in his voice, Dan quickly closed the gap between them when the doors closed and pressed a quick kiss to Phil’s cheek.

The doors parted again just seconds later, letting them out at the third floor. Confidently, Phil led them down the hallway, only to stop in front of another set of lifts. Dan cocked an eyebrow but wordlessly followed Phil as the doors to the next lift opened.

“Those only go to hotel rooms past this floor,” Phil cryptically explained as he pressed the button for the forty-eighth floor. This ride was longer, giving Phil enough time to lean in and kiss Dan on the lips. “I can’t promise this place will be free of photographers, so get it out of your system.”

Despite his giggles, Dan leaned forward and captured Phil’s lips with his own, this time lingering long enough to capture Phil’s lower lip between his teeth, long enough to nip at the soft and sensitive flesh inside Phil’s mouth. Long enough to reach for Phil’s hips and slip his fingers beneath Phil’s clothes, suggestively thumbing across the bare skin of Phil’s waist.

“Mmff!” Phil let out a throaty noise halfway between a moan and a reprimand, as he pulled back from Dan’s kiss.

“What?” Dan asked innocently, even as he let his fingers drift towards Phil’s arse. “You said to get it out of my system.”

“Well I didn’t think you’d feel me up in a lift,” Phil shot back snarkily.

“Mmmm,” Dan hummed. “Maybe I could resist feeling my boyfriend up in a lift if he didn’t look so damn gorgeous.” Dan eyed the denim jacket Phil was wearing, his gaze lingering on the fitted shirt covered with tiny pale flowers that was buttoned up all the way to his Adam’s apple, drawing Dan’s attention to Phil’s neck. The deep, pinot-noir purple stood out starkly against Phil’s pale skin, bringing out his eyes and making him look unfairly quirky and sexy at the same time.

The bell dinged and the doors parted, cutting off Phil’s reply. Dan snapped his mouth shut, but let himself continue eying Phil as he exited the lift — he could only do so much to tamp down his blatant arousal tonight, when Phil looked like that.

Phil didn’t hesitate to stride up to the host stand and give his name — that was something Dan was still getting used to, a partner being willing to take the lead in moments like this. It was proving to be far hotter than Dan had ever expected it to be.

Dan was still processing everything when the hostess started leading them towards a table. The restaurant seemed to form a circle around the lifts, and all of the exterior walls were replaced with grand windows overlooking the New York skyline.

Dan had only gotten one foot on the raised platform before Phil’s hands were softly gripping his shoulders. It was a good thing, too; Dan was fairly certain he would have fallen if Phil hadn’t steadied him. Beneath their feet, the platform was moving.

“What the…?” Dan breathed, baffled by the way the top step was moving but the bottom wasn’t.

“Look outside,” Phil murmured, his voice just centimeters from Dan’s ear. Following Phil’s suggestion, Dan glanced out the nearest window. Now that Dan was looking closer, the city around them seemed to be shifting slightly, and it took him a moment to realize that it was the restaurant that was rotating ever so slowly, not the skyscrapers outside.

“Holy shit,” Dan mumbled quietly, coming to a halt when the hostess gestured to a small table along one of the massive windows.

Dan sat, too captivated by the view of this foreign city to pay attention to the muted conversation Phil was having with the woman. Outside, Dan could see building after building, could see the moon rising over the water. It was a spectacular view, and judging by the slow rotation, it was only a portion of what he was going to see tonight.

It wasn’t until Phil’s knee gently bumped against his that Dan tore his gaze away from the window and turned back to face his boyfriend instead.

“When did you have time to make a reservation?” Dan asked stupidly, his brain still struggling to wrap itself around the amazingly gorgeous restaurant Phil had brought him to.

“While you were primping for tonight,” Phil teased. His hand slid across the table just enough to brush his knuckles across the back of Dan’s hand.

Dan’s hand, the one that wasn’t just barely touching Phil, flew up to self-consciously pat his curly hair.

“Stop,” Phil gently ordered. “You look good. Really good. Primping time was well used.”

Dan’s hand fell back to the table, his thumb immediately tapping out a mindless rhythm. He couldn’t believe Phil had taken the twenty minutes of downtime to book them a window-side table. “You’re amazing,” Dan sighed, awe dripping from his voice. “Seriously amazing.”

Phil tilted his head to the side, shrugging his shoulder as he flashed Dan a cheeky grin. “That is what they call me,” he said playfully.

“Oh fuck off,” Dan huffed, unable to stop the wide smile that spread across his face and the way his hand pressed against Phil’s. Teenage Phil really had picked out the perfect username for himself — amazing was by far the best word to describe him.

Dan’s gaze drifted back to the window. The view was slowly twisting so that they could see more and more of the river. The water was twinkling, reflecting both the moon and the bright lights of the city.

“Wait,” Dan exclaimed suddenly, his head whipping from the window to Phil. “Don’t you get motion sickness?”

Phil shrugged, a soft smile on his face. “Usually. But the restaurant moves so slowly that it won’t bother me as long as I don’t look outside for too long.”

Huffing a small sigh, Dan frowned slightly. “We could have gone to a restaurant where the view wouldn’t make you sick,” Dan pointed out.

“We could have,” Phil agreed easily. “But I knew you’d like this one.”

“Oh,” Dan mumbled quietly, a smile pulling at his lips. He turned his attention to the menu, if for no other reason than an easy excuse for hiding the blush that was flushing his cheeks. Phil ignored his dinner menu in favor of the black, leather-bound drink book on the table.

“Does your hatred for white wine extend to champagne, as well?” Phil asked idly, not looking up from the menu he was studying.

“Definitely not,” Dan denied vehemently, smiling stupidly at the thought of Phil ordering them champagne. “Champagne is its own branch of alcohol and it’s wonderful.”

“Good,” Phil folded the alcohol menu primly, and looked back up at Dan. “Because you were truly exceptional tonight, and deserve to be spoiled.”

“Phi-illlll,” Dan whined, bringing his menu up to hide the redness of his face with such force that it accidentally smacked him in the nose. His stomach tightened at the compliment, a shiver ran down his spine.

“Oh I forgot,” Phil said innocuously, his voice far too knowing to actually be innocent. “Does someone have a bit of a praise kink?” Phil continued with fake-casualness, his voice low and quiet. Husky. Sexy.

Dan dropped his forehead to the table with a resounding thunk, the menu shifting to cover the back of his head as his hands shielded his face from Phil’s view. “You aren’t supposed to take advantage of that in public.”

“Oops!” Phil laughed, actually laughed, as he kicked a foot out to nudge Dan’s. “Sit up and pick out what you want for an appetizer, babe.”

Slightly mortified, and more than a little flustered, Dan rose up again, his gaze steadfastly fixed on his menu. It was a fruitless effort, though — he could feel Phil’s eyes boring into him, which did nothing to calm his pounding heart and swooping stomach.

He realized they’d been handed a prix-fixe menu, meaning they would each get three courses for the flat rate of… holy shit. Eighty nine dollars.

At this rate, it was getting hard to tell if Phil’s tastes in restaurants was just as fancy as Dan’s, or if he was trying far too hard to impress him. In the months that Dan had gotten to know Phil, he’d learned that Phil was generally somewhat frugal — though never to a fault. In his business and personal life, Phil was always conscious about how he earned and spent his money. That hardly seemed in line with the extravagant dinners he was taking Dan to.

“Phil,” Dan started carefully, planning to test the waters and see if Phil would want to switch to the normal menu, one where they could share an appetizer and skip dessert (and shave a few dollars off the bill).

“Hush up and choose your appetizer, Howell,” Phil said without looking up from his own menu.

“Fine, I will, but…” Dan trailed off, his eyes darting out the window to avoid looking at Phil for a second before drifting back.

Phil folded his menu in front of him and looked at Dan with an unreadable stare. “But what?”

“But… you know not every date has to be expensive food and fancy restaurants, right? I’d be fine with Dominos and your sofa.”

“And I’m sure we’ll have our fair share of nights in with too much pizza. But I also like quality food and nice restaurants, and I know you do, too. So order whatever you want and enjoy tonight.”

Dan’s face must have betrayed the small bit of wariness that was still gnawing at his stomach, because Phil continued, “Look, if it makes you feel better, I promise you can pay next time we go somewhere expensive, okay?”

Dan smiled, his heart melting. “I adore you, Phil Lester.”

“And I you, Daniel Howell.”

****

The food was heavenly. Dan opted for lighter, mostly vegan dishes — a salad and a lovely squash roast — because he didn’t want to feel bloated and lethargic if they were going out after dinner. Phil had seafood instead and offered Dan small tastes of it, holding his fork across the table and letting Dan bite off it.

Dinner was lovely, but the company was even better. By the time their waiter was bringing them dessert menus, they were both well on their way to properly tipsy.

Sometime during the main course, Phil had ordered a second bottle of Dom Perignon. The bubbles — and ever growing feelings of infatuation — were going straight to Dan’s head, making him feel giddy in a way he couldn’t ever remember feeling before.

Around them, the restaurant was quietly buzzing with the Friday night crowd, the bar growing slightly more crowded as the night went on. Sometime in the past hour, the overhead lamps had dimmed, the lights of the city outside casting a soft glow over their table. They’d made a full circle, rotating around to see the empire state building and central park, and now they were back to the river.

Still though, Dan only had eyes for Phil.

Under the table, their feet were entwined together, mostly shrouded by the long white table cloth — although the more champagne Dan drank, the less he cared. A few times, when Phil gave him a particularly sweet compliment or an especially sexy look, Dan couldn’t resist brushing his fingertips over Phil’s or letting his toe drag up the inside of Phil’s leg.

In typical Phil fashion, he turned his full attention away from Dan for the first time all night when the dessert menus came, reading over the options with impressively deep intense concentration. Dan didn’t mind — he knew he couldn’t compete with sweet food, but he also knew dessert would come and go, and Phil would be his again.

“Dan!” Phil exclaimed, pointing to the very first item on the menu. “Look, they’ve made cake out of cheese! That shouldn’t get to count as a dessert!”

Dan giggled, his eyes still trained on Phil. “You know, not everyone has the same weird aversion to cheese as you, Philly.”

Phil didn’t respond, too engrossed in the list. “Oooo, look, they have profiteroles and — ew!” Head shooting back up, Phil gave Dan a genuinely horrified expression. His voice was just a hair too loud for inside, especially for the posh and intimate restaurant, but it was fine. “Who orders a cheese plate for dessert!?”

Fuck, Dan was so soft for this boy, this boy who had such bullheaded opinions over what counted as dessert, but was entirely open-minded about anything bigger. “What can I say, the world is full of zanies and fools.”

“Who don’t believe in sensible rules?” Phil quipped back with his brows raised knowingly, not quite singing, but also not exactly just talking either.

“Exactly,” Dan agreed with a nod, letting his eyes linger for just a second before finally flitting down to read his own dessert menu. There was an undefined sappy thought beating at the edge of Dan’s mind, something about how Phil felt like the fairytale impossible thing that happened to him, but he shoved it aside — that was too much even for his champagne-addled heart.

Scanning his menu, Dan’s gaze caught on one of the desserts — not because of the ingredients, but because of the suggestive name.

“I reckon I’ll order the Cherry Explosion,” Dan said, voice low as he looked up at Phil through his darker-than-usual eyelashes. “Hopefully it’ll be a preview of what’s to come later tonight.”

Phil held his gaze for a long second, a slow smirk spreading across his face and a playful twinkle in his eye. “You know,” he started slowly, leaning forward. Beneath the table, a warm hand suddenly landed on Dan’s thigh, fingertips dipping between his legs to rub along the inseam of Dan’s trousers. “I’m not normally a big fan of cherries, but if that’s what gets you there, I can get used to it.”

Dan’s jaw dropped open — both at Phil’s words and at the way his hand was slowly creeping higher and higher up Dan’s leg.

“I don’t — I’m not —” Dan stuttered, trying to defend why he had cherry lube at home, but there wasn’t a restaurant appropriate way to say that he got used to keeping it on hand in hopes that it would entice his ex-boyfriend to eat him out. “I don’t love the taste that much!” Dan finally managed.

Phil’s hand froze on Dan’s leg, his brows shooting up and a knowing smile growing on his lips. “So the flavor isn’t for your benefit, hmm?”

Shrugging, Dan did his best to keep his face neutral and voice steady — but the heat on his cheeks and his quickened breath told him he wasn’t doing a great job of either. “A lad can hope…” Dan muttered weakly.

The knowing smile on Phil’s lips turned positively lewd, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes darkening with lust. “Hope for what, Daniel?” Phil challenged.

Dan swallowed thickly, squirming beneath Phil’s intense gaze. He fiddled with the edge of his menu, resisting the simultaneous urges to knock Phil’s hand off his leg so he could think straight and pull Phil’s hand a few centimeters higher to where Dan really wanted it. “You know… something besides just… fingers,” Dan murmured, dropping his eyes to the table.

“I think most people don’t need flavors for a simple blowjob,” Phil pointed out, a smug edge to his voice.

“Philllll,” Dan whined, his face growing impossibly redder. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he grumbled into his flute of champagne, refusing to look Phil in the eye.

“Look at me, babe,” Phil demanded softly. Head still bowed, Dan shifted his eyes to look up at Phil, whose fingers resumed their teasing caress along Dan’s inner thigh. “And tell me what you meant.”

“I didn’t mean there,” Dan whined, praying Phil wouldn’t actually make him confess that he liked being eaten out in the middle of a fancy New York restaurant. That’d he’d settle for the blatant implication.

Phil looked like he might push it, but Dan was saved by the timely appearance of their waiter, back to take their dessert order.

Without taking his eyes off Dan, Phil ordered, his voice returning to its normal volume, a hint of huskiness still laced in. “I’ll have the profiterole, please, and he’ll have the cherry explosion.”

Pointedly, Phil squeezed Dan’s thigh, and Dan felt like he was on the verge of cracking, on the verge of begging Phil to dine and dash, to skip the club, to go back to their hotel — or fuck it, get a room in this one — and fuck him already. The subtle way Phil took charge, the way he challenged Dan in ways none of his past partners ever had, the way he made Dan feel so bloody taken care of — fuck, it was driving Dan insane.

“Bloody hell, Phil. You’re gonna kill me.”

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

“We’re here, babe, you have to get out of the car,” Phil insisted with a giggle. He was standing on the curb, holding the car door open and offering Dan his hand.

“I caaaan’t,” Dan whined, his words slurring together thanks to the full bottle of champagne he’d drank at dinner. He petulantly crossed his arms and stayed firmly planted in his seat.

“This nice man has’ta go pick up his next people, though,” Phil pointed out, flashing an apologetic glance towards the front of the car.

“But Phil, if I get out, then e’ryone’ll see,” Dan grumbled. Phil’s eyes followed Dan’s gesture towards his lap, a saucy smirk quickly pulling at his lips.

Dan’d been half-hard since they’d ordered dessert, and his trousers were still pulling tightly across his crotch, a telling tent forming in the center. Phil had been entirely unhelpful during the ride to the club, alternating between teasing Dan about how easily excitable he was and letting his hand wander up and down Dan’s thigh, not giving him the chance to calm down. They’d both had too much champagne to be discreet about it, and Dan hoped the driver wasn’t too scarred — he hadn’t said anything to reprimand them, at least.

“It’s dark out, no one’ll notice,” Phil argued, threading his hand through Dan’s and tugging gently. The awkward reach across the backseat was enough to unsteady Phil, and he braced himself on the doorframe, wobbling just a bit. “C’mon, as soon as we’re inside, you can get us a seat on the sofas and I’ll get us drinks, okay?”

Dan peered around Phil and saw that there wasn’t a line for the club. Maybe they were early — this was New York after all — or maybe this place really was as fancy as Phil had insinuated. Regardless of the reason, that meant Dan would have to interact with minimal people before he could sit down again. Plus, maybe a few minutes away from Phil would help Dan cool down. Lord knew he needed it.

“Here,” Phil let go of Dan’s hand and shrugged out of his denim jacket, offering it to Dan. “You can hold this in front of you in you want.”

“You’ll be cold, though,” Dan said guiltily.

“Not for long if you hurry up and c’mon!” Phil smiled widely, his tongue peeking out more than usual, and shook the jacket at Dan.

Giving in with a disgruntled grumble, Dan gratefully took Phil’s jacket as he climbed out of the uber, only stumbling a little, which he thought was probably a win given that he was definitely both tipsy and turned on. Dan tried to casually sling the jacket over his arm, aiming for a good boyfriend carrying his partner’s coat vibe, and not horny twenty-something hard because of some light pawing.

Phil’s hand landed on Dan’s lower back, guiding Dan towards the entrance. He dropped his hand as they got close, and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

He started rifling through, for what Dan wasn’t sure, but the brown-haired bouncer suddenly smiled widely, seeming to recognize Phil, and told him not to worry about it.

Shit — the bouncer! Dan’s drunken and infatuated mind had forgotten that the only reason Phil knew about this place was because he’d fucked the bouncer. Or maybe the bouncer had fucked him. At this point, Dan honestly didn’t know which was worse to think about.

“Well, hey there Phil,” the bouncer greeted, his gaze blatantly raking up and down Phil’s form. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Hi, Oliver,” Phil greeted politely, smiling but keeping his eyes fixed on the other boy’s face. Dan couldn’t help but size up this lad who had slept with Phil; he had chocolate brown hair, curls, and deep eyes — just like Dan. In many ways, looking at this guy was like looking in a warped mirror.

Except for in one very important way.

This guy was built in a way Dan never had been, nor would ever be. His biceps were literally bulging against his sleeves, and Dan could see the sharp outline of defined pectoral muscles under the thin material covering his shirt. Jesus, it was March! Shouldn’t this guy be wearing a jacket or something? Not showing his muscles off to the world?

And rubbing them in Phil’s new boyfriend’s face?

Well aware that he was probably glowering, Dan tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Oliver telling Phil he looked good tonight.

“I’ll be off at one if you’re free tonight,” the bouncer said as he brushed his hand over Phil’s forearm and offered him a saucy wink. Goddamn, Dan was well familiar with that move, and he wasn’t particularly enjoying watching some random bloke pull it on his boyfriend.

The bouncer’s gaze finally drifted away from Phil, landing on Dan for the first time. Understanding seemed to register in his eyes and his hand dropped. “Although, I’m now realizing that might not be an option anymore…” he added, trailing off.

“Oh, uh,” Phil stuttered, sounding strangled and surprised. His hand reached out and wrapped around Dan’s waist. “Yeah. I mean, no! Not’n option, sorry. This is my boyfriend, Dan.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” Oliver frowned, disappointed, before offering Dan a cheeky smirk. "You’re lucky. From what I remember your boyfriend sure can ride. He's quite the power bottom, in’it he?"

Dan could feel all the color draining out of his face, could feel how tense his entire body was, could feel his nails digging into the palms of his hands. He was practically shaking — with what, he wasn’t sure. Phil said he’d slept with this guy a year ago. It wasn’t like Dan really had the right to be mad or jealous — they hadn’t even met yet.

But still.

Riding was Dan’s favorite position — he wasn’t keen on imagining Phil doing that with some other guy.

“We’re going in now,” Phil said tersely. “You sure you don’t need a cover?” he added with minimal politeness, cutting in before Dan could say anything. Not that Dan had any idea what he’d say in a moment like this. He reckoned it’d probably start with a choice four letter word, though.

“Nah of course not, it’s always free for you gorgeous,” Oliver replied flirtily, and had the nerve to fucking wink at Phil, even after it became clear Phil was taken. “Feel free to call if you’re ever around again!” His gaze shifted to Dan, dragging over his comparatively lanky body. Dan couldn’t help self consciously adjusting the jacket in front of him, squirming under the lewd scrutiny of this built bouncer. “Or are looking for a third,” Oliver added, this time winking at Dan and deliberately licking his lips.

“He won’t be,” Dan snapped, grabbing Phil’s hand tightly and pulling him into the club as soon as they had permission.

Phil followed willingly, not even attempting to pause and apologize to the guy about Dan’s rude behavior. Not that Dan thought his reaction was unjustified — the asshole had ignored Dan, hit on his boyfriend, and asked for a threesome, all within a five minute window.

Inside, Dan paused for a fraction of a second to appraise his surroundings. The club was dim in a seductive, anonymous way. There were guys everywhere, far more than the lineless entrance had suggested. A long bar lined the back wall, and sofas and low tables created narrow aisles, leaving no room for a dance floor — something that was both surprising and disappointing. Dancing would have been an easy way for Dan to release some of his pent up emotions.

Scanning the room for alternate options, Dan’s eyes caught on a deserted hallway. He pulled Phil down it, not stopping until they were passed the glowing coat check window and as far from the crowd as they could be. Dan’s grip was probably still a little too tight on Phil’s hand, but Phil didn’t complain and didn’t question.

As soon as Dan thought they were alone enough, he spun around on his heel, grabbing Phil by the waist and crowding him up against the wall in one smooth motion. Phil’s jacket fell carelessly from Dan’s grip to the floor as Dan planted his feet on either side of Phil’s, his chest and hips pressed in close.

The position left Phil pinned to the wall, and given the unspoken dynamic that they were both exploring, Dan half expected Phil to flip their positions, to switch places so that Phil was the one pinning Dan to the wall.

Much to Dan’s satisfaction, however, Phil’s only movement was to loop his arms around Dan and pull him closer, hands splayed on Dan’s lower back. That prick outside had gotten under Dan’s skin, and he needed to remind himself that Phil wasn’t with that arse. Dan needed to remember that after months of pining and lusting and yearning, Phil was finally with him and no one else.

“Mine,” Dan growled as he surged forward and captured Phil’s lips with his own. Phil chuckled softly into the kiss, his chest rumbling against Dan’s. Dan could feel Phil’s fingers tracing across his back, could feel Phil’s lips quirking up into a smile. The whole thing reeked of fond and cute, but Dan didn’t want fond and cute right now.

He wanted passionate and possessive.

So Dan didn’t pause, didn’t pull back to let Phil laugh. If anything, he kissed harder; his lips moved urgently against Phil’s and his hands slipped up from Phil’s hips, desperately running over any part of Phil’s chest he could reach without having to step back.

Phil’s lips parted, and Dan didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue in, roughly licking the roof of Phil’s mouth. Not quite battling for dominance, but definitely not letting Dan take complete charge of the kiss either, Phil massaged Dan’s tongue with his own, his hands sliding down to firmly grab Dan’s arse.

The dark hallway, the anonymous club, the foreign city — they all felt like a shelter from the real world, and Dan let himself get lost in kissing and touching and groping. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the red-hot jealousy coursing through his veins, but Dan didn’t even really care if someone noticed them. Hell, he almost hoped that asshat of a bouncer decided to go on a loo break and saw the way Dan had Phil pushed up against the wall, the way Dan had his tongue down Phil’s throat.

Saw that Phil was Dan’s.

When kissing Phil became too much for Dan’s poor lungs to handle, he pulled back roughly only to immediately latch his lips onto Phil’s neck. Needing to feel Phil in every way he could, Dan rocked his hips forward, grinding their crotches together with a force that made them both groan.

“Mine,” Dan grumbled again, the word vibrating against Phil’s pulse point and pulling a deep moan out of him. He nipped at Phil’s neck, just hard enough for Phil to hiss and tighten his grip on Dan’s arse, his fingers deliciously digging into Dan’s cheeks. “Mine, mine, mine,” Dan repeated before licking over the red spot on Phil’s neck and sucking harshly.

“Of course,” Phil replied, his voice surprisingly full of conviction given how ragged his breath was growing. “All yours, baby.”

Dan slid his hands down Phil’s side, rucking his shirt up and grabbing at the soft, bare skin of Phil’s hips. “I don’t wanna share you with anyone,” Dan mumbled into Phil’s neck as his lips kissed and bit and sucked their way up to the sensitive spot beneath Phil’s ear.

“Good,” Phil huffed, this time his voice lower and more affected. One hand left Dan’s arse to tangle in his curls, pulling back forcefully until their gazes met. “Don’t wanna share you, either.”

Dan moaned, probably far too loudly for the coat check hallway of some club, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always preferred monogamy — for a lot of reasons. Something about monogamy with Phil, though. Fuck, it was so damn hot that Dan found himself getting even more riled up. And, sure, maybe it wasn’t an idea that would make many people horny, but it was turning Dan on — he literally didn’t think Phil could say anything sexier.

Hands groping higher up under Phil’s shirt, Dan crashed their lips together again, unable to resist the urge to grind their hips together again. His involuntary moan was drowned out by a loud wolf-whistle.

“Get some, sexy!” A deep, male voice called out, making Dan’s wandering hands come to an abrupt halt on Phil’s ribs and his breath catch in his throat.

“Fuck,” Dan muttered, tearing away from Phil’s lips and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Dan could feel his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment, could feel Phil’s husky laughter as his head tipped back and thunked against the wall.

Dan wasn’t concerned about the whistling stranger recognizing them, not in the dark shadows of a dim hallway in a fancy club. He was, however, mortified — and unexpectedly a little turned on — at being caught feverishly making out with someone in public, even if it was his boyfriend.

Phil tugged lightly on Dan’s hair, this time lacking the command from earlier, and guided Dan to look at him.

“Drinks?” Phil proposed, his voice ragged in a way that made Dan radiate with satisfaction.

“Yeah,” Dan panted in agreement. “That didn’t help my problem at all, though,” he added quietly. Rocking his hips against Phil’s, Dan let Phil feel the full hardness of his cock. Through their trousers, Dan could tell that Phil’s cock was swollen too, at least halfway, and the friction was absolutely heavenly. Dan had to bite back another moan at the relief that Phil’s hips gave.

“Grab my coat and go find us a sofa. I’ll get us drinks.” Phil’s thumb dragged back and forth, back and forth across Dan’s hip, rendering him speechless and incapable of countering with any other plan, even if a part of him did still want to at least try to pay for something tonight.

“Alright,” Dan mumbled, leaning forward to press his lips to Phil’s one more time before pulling back entirely. Bending down, Dan scooped Phil’s jacket up off the floor and slung it over his arm and in front of his crotch in what he hoped was a casual manner.

Dan let Phil lead the way down the hallway, hovering behind him and taking advantage of the extra coverage while he could. When they reached the main room, Phil gave Dan’s free hand a quick squeeze before they parted ways, Phil bee-lining for the back bar and Dan veering right to find some open seats near the edge of the room.

After a minute of winding, Dan found an empty sofa in a corner of the club. The music was quieter over here, no longer so loud that talking would be impossible. He collapsed onto the cushions and spread Phil’s jacket across his lap. The back of the sofa was low, only coming up to his mid-back — probably to stop people from getting too relaxed and not partaking in the whole club thing. Slouching down so his shoulders were supported, Dan pulled his phone out of his pocket to tell Phil where he was.

The first thing he noticed was the time — almost exactly half past eleven. His interview with Jimmy Fallon would be airing any minute now.

The second thing he noticed was about half a dozen text messages from Louise.

Before he opened her messages, Dan shot Phil a quick text, trying to describe the dark corner he was sat in. Switching over to his conversation with Louise, Dan skimmed over her messages. She’d asked how the recording had gone, what his plans were for the evening, cheekily teased that she hoped Dan wasn’t responding because he was getting laid, and promised to tweet about the show for him — bless her, she really was the best friend and manager he could hope for.

Quickly, Dan typed a quick message back, ignoring most of what she’d said and just updating her on things more generally.

Dan [11:28PM]: taping was good i’m happy with it. i’m sure you’ll see soon. phil and i are out. i’ll ring tomorrow xx

Dan was just hitting send when Phil appeared above him. He shuffled back up into a proper sitting position, tucking his phone back into his pocket. Cocking an eyebrow at Dan’s movement, Phil passed Dan a lowball of something dark and on ice.

“Just Louise,” Dan said as an answer to Phil’s silent question and took a sip of his drink. It was some kind of whiskey, something much more bitter than whatever the blue concoction Phil was holding probably was. Dan was grateful that Phil seemed to remember his drink preferences, even though they’d only ordered cocktails together a small handful of times. He didn’t think he could stomach drinking something as colorful and sugary as Phil’s. “Thanks,” Dan said with a smile and a tip of his glass in Phil’s direction.

“You’re welcome,” Phil replied, twisting slightly to face Dan as his free arm came to rest on the back of the sofa behind him. “Sorry about that, by the way.” Phil pointedly nodded his head back towards the door. “I didn’t think he’d hit on me, especially not with you there. Hell, I didn’t even know if he’d be working.”

Dan shrugged, twisting slightly so that he was facing more towards Phil than the rest of the room. “It’s’not your fault,” Dan said genuinely. “Although, you promised me he wasn’t cuter than me.” Petulantly, Dan huffed and sent a glare in the direction of the entrance.

“And?” Phil chuckled, his hand slipping from the sofa, his fingers grazing along Dan’s ribcage. Something about the way Phil was so casually sprawling across the sofa, the sheer manliness of the position, combined with the gentle drag of his fingers on Dan’s side was fucking attractive. “Tha’bloke is nowhere near as stunning as you,” Phil continued, his voice low and sincere.

Dan stuck his bottom lip out, pouting up at Phil. “Are y’kidding?” Dan whined. “He looked like me, but with actual muscles an’ not limp noodle arms.”

Phil’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. His eyes dragged over Dan, lingering on his arms, his chest. Dan squirmed under Phil’s intense gaze, and he was certain his cheeks were growing red. He slouched down again; Phil was taller than him now, and Dan had to tip his head up to look at him. From this angle, Dan had a perfect view of the red marks blossoming on Phil’s neck, and he felt pride swell deep in his stomach.

“I’ll admit I have a bit of a thing for dark hair an’ pretty eyes,” Phil conceded, a small smirk on his face and humor lacing his voice. Elbow still resting on the back of the sofa, Phil bent his arm so he could run his hand through Dan’s hair, petting sweetly. Dan couldn’t resist just slightly leaning his head back into the touch, silently encouraging Phil to continue his ministrations. Jesus christ, he loved his hair being played with, both in and out of the bedroom. “But the muscles don’t really do anything for me.” Phil shrugged casually, his eyes dropping from Dan’s again to salaciously rake over his body.

“In fact,” Phil continued, his voice suddenly lower, huskier. Sexier. “I prefer that you’re a li’le more narrow ‘n me.” The hand in Dan’s hair slid down. Phil’s fingers lightly traced down the side of Dan’s neck, making Dan’s skin feel on fire and his breath catch in his throat. Phil scooched a little more towards Dan, and the close proximity made Dan have to look up even more. “I like being able’ta wrap you up in my arms.”

Arm wrapped around Dan’s shoulder, Phil pulled him in so that Dan’s shoulder was leaning against Phil’s chest, making Dan feel tiny — and not in the bad way he had a minute ago, when he’d been comparing himself to the fit bouncer out front.

This time, Dan was less subtle about the way he settled into Phil’s embrace. He brought the leg closest to Phil up, and let his knee fall into Phil’s lap. Phil seemed to welcome the new position, his other hand shifting to rest his drink on Dan’s thigh.

In sync, they both took a sip of their cocktails, and Dan found himself completely distracted from the bitter taste as he stared heatedly into Phil’s eyes. Pointedly, Dan flicked his gaze down to Phil’s glass with a challenging spark in his eye, and tipped his own drink back further. It wasn’t until the liquid was half gone that Dan stopped. With a small smirk, Phil followed Dan’s lead, lifting his glass higher and chugging.

Dan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way Phil’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and god, he wanted to drag his teeth against it, nip and lick Phil’s neck, add to the marks already there. He wanted to make Phil feel good, wanted to chase the sharpness of the whiskey away with the taste of Phil’s skin.

Overcome with the need to kiss Phil right now, Dan nestled his glass by his hip and tugged on Phil’s wrist. Phil clearly got the hint, his eyes twinkling with mirth and his drink lowering to Dan’s leg.

Pulled together like unstoppable magnets, they both leaned in, their lips meeting with heady passion that was likely too much for a nightclub. Phil tasted fruity and sweet, a perfect contrast to the heavy, bitter flavor of whiskey lingering in Dan’s mouth. Their lips moved against each other, Phil’s tongue almost immediately dragging along Dan’s lower lip, practically demanding entrance. Pliant and desperate for anything Phil would give him, Dan parted his lips and let Phil in. Hot desire rushed through Dan’s veins, his arousal only growing when Phil licked behind his teeth.

Dan let himself be kissed, pushing up, up, up into Phil, chasing the overwhelming feeling of Phil. It was so much, and yet not enough.

A sharp tug of Dan’s hair forced him to tip his head back further — and jesus fuck, that was hot. The new angle gave Phil access to Dan’s neck, and his lips worked their way down from Dan’s mouth to his pulse point. Beneath Phil’s mouth, Dan could feel his blood rushing, his heart pounding, and he never wanted this moment to end. The soft scrape of Phil’s teeth on his skin drew a loud moan out of Dan and caused his muscles to go slack.

Wet, cold liquid splashed onto Dan’s thigh, and he tore himself away from Phil’s lips. He looked down, finding his glass tipped precariously to the side. Oops.

Now that their drinks were emptier and the music was louder, any hope of carrying on a proper conversation had slipped away. That was fine — they’d talked plenty at dinner, and there’d be plenty of time for talking later.

Sitting upright, Dan drained the last sips of his whiskey, motioning for Phil to do the same. There were only a few gulps left in Phil’s, and he obediently knocked it back. As soon as the drink was empty, Dan snatched the glass out of Phil’s hand and hurriedly put them both on the table. His movements were careless and clumsy, resulting in one of the glasses almost immediately tipping over and ice spilling out.

Dan ignored the mess — he didn’t particularly care about anything other than Phil right now. Dan swooped back in and pressed his lips to Phil’s, his leg shifting so that he was nearly straddling Phil. Warm, firm hands gripped Dan’s hips, lifting and pulling until Dan was fully in Phil’s lap.

“Fuck,” Dan moaned against Phil’s lips, painfully turned on by the way Phil was fucking manhandling him. Dan wanted more, needed to be closer, so he tangled his hands in Phil’s quiff, bracing his elbows against Phil’s shoulders so that he could lean up and kiss Phil harder. Phil’s hands crept under Dan’s tight jumper, and his nails dug into Dan’s waist, making Dan hyper aware of every single one of Phil’s fingers.

Phil’s touch on Dan’s bare sides was electrifying, and a surge of pleasure shot up Dan’s spine. Needing to do something with the heat that was radiating from every inch of his body, Dan found himself grinding his hips down into Phil’s.

“Yeah, baby,” Phil slurred, pulling roughly and guiding Dan to rock his hips forward again. Phil felt so fucking good beneath Dan, solid, warm, and — jesus — growing hard.

Dan’s cock had calmed down some while Phil had fetched their drinks, but the friction of Phil’s hips, the tease of Phil’s hard on, made it swell in interest again.

Tearing his lips away from Phil’s, Dan latched onto Phil’s neck and sucked hard, hard enough to surely leave another mark. Those could be tomorrow’s problem to worry about. Dan worked his way higher, leaving a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses up Phil’s neck. Phil’s fingers were digging into Dan’s hips, and it was fucking intoxicating — more so than the champagne and whiskey and whatever else they were going to drink could ever be.

“You —” Phil started, his words cut off by a loud gasp as Dan sucked on what must have been a particularly sensitive spot — Dan made a mental note, because he definitely wanted to make Phil do that again. “You look s’good like this,” Phil mumbled.

“Phhhh—” Dan moaned, unable to even get Phil’s name out. The compliment felt like a physical wave of pleasure rushing through Dan’s body, making him feel hot all over. Phil was so fucking right about that whole praise thing.

Dan caught the lobe of Phil’s ear in his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it and his tongue dart out to flick it. Pushing up just a hair, Dan slid his hands from Phil’s hair, down his neck, over his shoulders, and down to his chest. Dan couldn't resist bunching Phil’s shirt in his fists, massaging over Phil’s nipples with his thumbs.

“Good, because when we get back to the hotel room,” Dan whispered into Phil’s ear, “I wanna ride you.”

“Fuck,” Phil cursed, his hand rucking Dan’s jumper up high enough that his fingers stroked the bottom of Dan’s ribcage. “Yeah, okay.”

Surprised at how easily Phil had agreed, Dan pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Wait, really? You’re cool with that being how we fuck tonight?”

“Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan,” Phil mumbled, his hands tracing rough lines up and down the naked skin of Dan’s waist. “You have no idea how sexy you look above me. Trust me, I definitely want to see you like this, filled up with my cock.”

Dan’s cock twitched, and he had to restrain himself from rocking forward again. “Jesus, Phil,” Dan panted, his hands gripping Phil’s shoulders tightly as he tried to hold onto some grain of composure. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“And why’s that?” Phil teased, his thumbs dragging back and forth across Dan’s ribs, the feeling absolutely heavenly. It was somehow hot and tender at the same time, and Dan wanted more more more.

“You know why, you fucking asshole,” Dan grumbled, leaning back down to kiss along Phil’s neck. Dan was beginning to accept that Phil was right, but that didn’t mean he wanted to actually admit it out loud.

“You ‘n your praise kink make this too fucking easy,” Phil murmured, half panting, half chuckling.

“Don’t take ‘vantage of me,” Dan mumbled jokingly into Phil’s neck, lightly nipping at Phil’s shoulder.

Properly laughing this time, Phil slid his hands down to Dan’s hips and used his leverage to push him back. The momentum forced Dan all the way back to Phil’s knees — something Dan was thoroughly disgruntled about. But then one of Phil’s hands left Dan’s waist and thumbed over his cheek, a soft and fond look on his face, and Dan couldn’t help but melt. He might have been horny and hot, but he was so damn enamoured that the tender gesture affected him just as much as the grinding and wandering hands had.

“If we keep down this path, I’m gonna have a hard time keeping m’hands to myself,” Phil teased, a playful smirk toying at his lips. His other hand dipped into Dan’s jeans and stroked the long, prominent bone of his hip, as if to prove his point. Fuck, just Phi’s fingers on his hip was enough to drive Dan fucking mad, he didn’t know how he was going to manage to get through the night and back to their hotel without losing control.

“How ‘bout we dance for a bit?” Phil proposed suddenly. Shocked and unable to process Phil’s suggestion, Dan snapped his head back and stared down at Phil with bleary eyes, blinking slowly. The fuck?

Dancing? Right, okay. Dan could be up for dancing. But...

Dan glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the club, confused. Just like he remembered, there wasn’t exactly room for dancing anywhere. However, Dan noticed that there were several couples that were making out, feeling each other up, grinding hips desperately together.

“Uh, where?” Dan questioned skeptically. From his quick glance around, it seemed like dancing would actually draw more attention to them than snogging in a dark corner.

“Dance floor. Downstairs,” Phil explained, his head nodding toward the opposite corner. Dan followed the direction of Phil’s nod, noticing a dimly lit staircase for the first time. Of course — a lot of clubs separated sitting areas from dancing areas, Dan’s tipsy brain had just been too out of it to process.

“Sounds good,” Dan mumbled in agreement, dipping down to kiss at Phil’s neck one more time before he had to climb out of Phil’s lap. “We should have somethin’ else t’drink first, though. I’m a rubbish dancer,” he chuckled. It wasn’t entirely true, but Phil didn’t have to know that just yet.

The excuse sounded better than I wanna be drunk and free with you. Plus, maybe Dan’s decent dancing would be a pleasant surprise later.

Phil’s hand slipped out from Dan’s shirt, and ran up his chest. “How ‘bout you take our jackets to the coat check an’ I’ll order us something else t’drink, baby?” Phil suggested, his tone not really leaving room for Dan to argue as his hands dipped under Dan’s leather jacket, carefully shrugging it off his shoulders.

Dan’s jacket caught around his biceps, hanging from his arms in the gayest of fashions and he loved it. He wiggled his knees backwards until he was hovering above Phil’s hips and could easily rest his feet on the floor.

“Alright, let’s go then,” Dan agreed, backing off Phil entirely and holding one hand out to help him off the sofa. Dan was excited to dance, it would give him something a little less slutty to do with all his energy. Grabbing Phil’s jacket, Dan nodded once at Phil before heading back down the deserted hallway from earlier — only now it wasn’t as deserted. Dan passed three couples heatedly kissing before he even got to the coat check booth. But then again, surely snogging in public wasn’t that slutty if this many people were doing it.

Smiling at the employee, Dan dropped Phil’s denim jacket onto the small ledge and shrugged out of his own leather one, not bothering to tuck his phone into his pants pocket before he handed it to the guy across the bar. Tonight was about letting go, and the only person who could really need him had Phil’s number now.

Dan took the coat-check number from the worker, tucking it into his back pocket, and made his way back to the bar. Phil was standing at the far end, twisted around and watching for Dan.

And fuck, he looked good. Sometime while Dan had been gone, Phil had loosened up a little bit. The top four buttons of his shirt were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and god help Dan because he was pretty sure he was about to come in his fucking pants. Phil looked so goddamn seductive leaning back against the bar like that, his shirt dipping down, his chest peeking out, his forearms taut.

Phil was gorgeous and sexy and so entirely manly — Dan couldn’t get enough.

It wasn’t until he was standing directly in front of Phil that Dan realized that there were no cocktails — no, instead there were two double shots in front of Phil, plus a small plate of lime wedges and a salt shaker. Tequila, then.

“Get ov’r here, mister,” Phil demanded, a smile on his face as he made grabby hands for Dan. Fucking hell, it should be illegal for someone to be so sexy and so cute at the same time. Dan could only handle so much, and his cock and his heart were competing for blood at this point. “I ordered us shots.”

“Shots, huh?” Dan teased, one hand coming to rest on the bar on the outside of Phil’s hip. “A simple drink wasn’t good enough for you, then?”

“I figured neither of us could manage a drink an’ dancing a’the same time.” Phil shrugged with a smile, turning back toward the bar and letting his arse grind into Dan’s hips as he pulled their shots closer to them.

Fuck. Phil really knew how to play Dan.

“Come here,” Phil murmured as he twisted back around, his hands landing on Dan’s hips. In one smooth movement, Phil spun them around and switched their positions. Before Dan could fully process the change, his waist was pressing into the bar and Phil’s crotch was digging into his arse. “Take a shot with me.”

Phil’s voice was deep and gruff, and the scratchiness of it made Dan’s stomach flip over and over in desire. He bloody adored how Phil was taking care of him tonight, somehow perfectly in charge of all of Dan’s needs, intuitively aware of what Dan would find the sexiest and most fun at any given moment.

Dan reached for a tequila shot with one hand, his other grabbing a lime. Realizing his mistake — it was salt, tequila, lime, after all — Dan dropped his lime in favor of reaching for the salt shaker. Phil beat him to it, though, licking a long stripe up his own hand and shaking two small mounds of salt along the line.

“Here,” Phil murmured into Dan’s ear, bringing his hand level with Dan’s mouth.

Not hesitating to check their surroundings or respond, Dan surged forward and sucked the salt off Phil’s hand. Phil moved quickly, his head dipping forward and licking his hand at the same time as Dan, their cheeks pressing together. Simultaneously, they both lifted their shots to their mouths, tipping the tequila down their throat. Behind him, Dan could feel Phil gulp, could feel his neck and his chest and his stomach move as he swallowed the alcohol.

Phil got to the lime first, holding it in front of Dan’s lips. Leaning forward, Dan sucked the lime into his mouth, taking care to drag his lips along Phil’s fingers as well. Soft vibrations rumbled against Dan’s back, and it took his drunken brain a second to realize that they were from Phil moaning.

Phil dropped the lime to the bar and reached for the other wedge, but Dan knocked his hand out of the way. It was his turn.

Grabbing the second wedge, Dan spun around to face Phil. Dan tried his intoxicated best to arrange his face into a seductive look as he held the wedge up to Phil’s mouth and nudged it against his lips. Maybe it was successful, because Dan glanced up at Phil’s eyes and saw that his pupils were wide and dark. He looked hungry, Dan thought, but it wasn’t for the lime.

Regardless, Phil parted his lips and sucked on it, pulling the tips of Dan’s fingers into the wet heat of his mouth, too.

Fucking hell, no wonder Phil had moaned when Dan had done that. Now that Dan’s fingers were in Phil’s mouth, now that Phil’s tongue was licking along his skin, Dan couldn’t help but imagine something else in Phil’s mouth, and — fuck.

Pulling back off the wedge with a loud pop, Phil smirked at Dan, linking their hands together under the bar. “Let’s go dance.”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed, breathless, carelessly dropping the lime back to the plate and letting Phil tug him along. Together, they weaved through the aisles of sofas to the steep staircase leading to the mystery basement.

When they reached the stairs, Phil dropped Dan’s hand, opting to grab the handrail instead. Rightfully so, too. The steps were steep and winding, and Dan was sure that even Sober Him would struggle. Dan followed, holding tight to the railing and sticking close to Phil.

Less than halfway down, the twisting was already fucking with Dan’s drunken head, nearly making him stumble and fall. Luckily, the staircase was narrow and Phil was directly in front of him, so Dan was able to catch himself before he tumbled out of control.

After what seemed like forever, they rounded the last twist and the stairs opened up to a packed dance floor. The music was a million times louder down here, the lights flashing and moving, subtle fog machines trying to make the whole place scream sexy. Everywhere Dan looked, there were men dancing, grinding, kissing. It was the kind of place he hadn’t gotten to indulge in since his late teens, and he was suddenly incredibly eager to embrace the atmosphere.

Stepping around Phil, Dan grabbed Phil by the hand and drug him out to the dance floor. They weaved passed couple after couple until they were packed into the middle of the crowd, disappearing into plain sight thanks to the drunk dancers surrounding them.

Dan spun around to face Phil, alcohol causing the world to blur around the edges. It took a second for Dan’s eyes to focus again, and when they did, he realized that Phil was blatantly checking him out. The way Phil was looking at him, with wide pupils and parted lips, made Dan feel like the sexiest guy in the room — maybe even in all of New York.

“C’mere,” Phil demanded, nearly shouting to be heard over the music. His message was clear though; there was no mistaking what Phil wanted when he grabbed Dan’s hips and pulled him in close. Dan stumbled forward willingly, and he had a feeling he’d walk straight across the threshold to hell if Phil guided him. On instinct, Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck; they were close — so, so close. Their chests were just centimeters apart, their hands spread wide like they were trying to touch as much of each other as they could. Together, they started to move in time to the thumping bass of the music.

Dan giggled, drunk and horny and maybe just a little bit slap-happy.

What? Phil mouthed with furrowed brows and an amused smile.

Dan smiled and stepped closer so he could try to explain; their chests were touching now and Dan could feel Phil dancing. Dan leaned in so that he could yell directly into Phil’s ear. “I feel like I’m back at my year eight dance.” Dan tugged on the hair at the nape of Phil’s neck and pointedly wiggled his hips, hoping Phil would telepathically understand Dan’s logic.

Phil laughed, loud and shameless, with his tongue poking out and his eyes nearly closed. He looked happy and gorgeous and Dan’s heart was beating in a way that he was pretty sure had nothing to do with the minute amount of physical exercise.

Smile still plastered on his face, Phil pulled Dan impossibly closer, causing their hips to crash together, and god Dan loved how their hips felt when they were pressed together. He could have sworn he could feel the outline of Phil’s cock, and it only made him more excited for later.

“Only if you got kicked out,” Phil teased, his hands dropping down to Dan’s arse and squeezing, as if to prove his point. And yeah, that move was definitely forbidden back in year eight. Maybe it was a good thing too, because thirteen-year-old Dan might’ve fucking cum in his pants if someone did that to him then. Fucking hell, twenty-three-year-old Dan was on the verge of doing so, maybe the club should be a little more regulated.

Maybe a touch too late, Dan vehemently shook his head — grinding at dances wasn’t even remotely his life at thirteen. At thirteen, Dan was sexually confused and his only quality friendship was Louise. (Although, four years later, Dan was much less confused and was actively looking for just about anyone who would pop his cherry.)

Now, though, Dan was entirely comfortable with his sexual preferences, even if he did waiver between labels from time to time. At the very least, Dan could say with complete confidence that he was fucking attracted to the man in front of him, and he was fucking hot for the fact that they were surrounded by other gay couples.

And now that Phil’s hands were on his arse, pulling him closer so that their hips, their cocks, rubbed together, Dan couldn’t think about anything else.

So Dan let go. He let the champagne and the whiskey and the tequila take over, let his inhibitions fade away. The music was so loud that Dan could feel it in his soul, the remixed-nineties music just familiar enough to make Dan feel like he knew what he was doing, the added beats just fast enough to make him feel sexy. Hands still tangled around Phil’s neck, Dan pushed his hips forward and rocked them against Phi’s.

His hips moved on their own accord, swaying and grinding and moving in time with the music. Phil moved with him, their crotches rubbing together over and over as remixed versions of TLC, Christina Aguilera, and Destiny’s Child pulsed around them. It was hot, god it was hot. The dance floor was so packed, so anonymous, and Dan couldn’t hold back from closing the fucking microscopic amount of distance between them, kissing Phil over and over again as the night grew later and later.

At some point, Phil twisted Dan around. It came almost out of nowhere — one minute they were grinding together, and the next, Phil was manhandling Dan, shifting their positions so that Phil’s semi-hard cock was rubbing against Dan’s arse, and fucking hell that was hot. Some bassed-up version of Baby Got Back was playing, so loud that the song was almost all-consuming. The sober recesses of Dan’s mind tried to remind him of that scene from Friends, the one where Ross and Rachel sang this to their infant and offended each other, but the drunk and horny parts of Dan were far too focused on the way Phil was grinding into his arse, the way Phil’s hands were sliding further and further down his hips, to properly process anything about the music. Phil rubbed his hands over and over the front of Dan’s hips, pulling him closer and grazing his cock with every pass. Moaning, Dan let his head fall back onto Phil’s shoulder, and Phil’s neck was right there, so of course Dan mouthed along it. The music was too loud to hear much of anything over it, but Dan could feel Phil’s throat vibrate with a moan, could feel Phil’s fingers dig into his hips the slightest bit harder. They were touching everywhere, flushed together from head to toe and Phil felt like Dan’s whole world tonight.

Dan rocked his hips back, soaking up the heady sensation of Phil’s cock rubbing against him, feeling more and more intoxicated off lust than alcohol by the second. Trying not to overthink it, Dan reached behind himself and wrapped his arm around Phil’s neck, his fingers tangling in the short hair at the back of Phil’s head.

The breath was nearly knocked out of Dan when Phil pushed up Dan’s short shirtsleeve with his mouth, and kissed along his inner bicep as he drug his lips up Dan’s arm. Fucking hell, Dan was definitely about to combust and cum on the spot if Phil kept doing that. Phil’s lips latched onto Dan’s arm, sucking and surely leaving a mark and fuck Dan had never been so glad to have worn a short sleeve shirt as he was right now.

Once again, the music shifted, and the iconic first notes of Britney rung out. Within seconds, Dan recognized the song, and given how Phil’s fingers tightened on his hips, he reckoned Phil did, too. And god, he wanted to look at Phil while they danced to this.

Dan tried to twist around, and Phil’s grip loosened just enough to let him move, his fingers dragging deliciously over Dan’s skin as he turned. They readjusted quickly, Dan’s arms wrapping around Phil’s neck and Phil’s hands lowering to grope Dan’s arse.

“Baby, can’t you see,” Dan murmured huskily into Phil’s ear, his tongue darting out to lick Phil’s earlobe. Slowly, sensually, Dan slipped his arms from Phil’s neck and dragged his hands across Phil’s chest. He moved slowly, his fingernails raking across Phil’s shirt, pausing to rub at Phil’s nipples.

“Jesus, babe,” Phil mumbled, the words barely more than a strangled groan. The fingers on Dan’s arse tightened, forcefully pulling until Dan’s hips were grinding against Phil’s. Their cocks rubbed together, and Dan rocked his hips again, desperate to feel and feel and feel.

Phil was half hard, and so was Dan, and the friction was amazing. Pleasure shot through Dan, his cock twitching and a quiet moan tumbling from his lips. Dan couldn’t resist tangling his fingers in Phil’s hair, dragging him just the slightest bit closer, not that there was really much distance left between them.

The music continued to pound around them, and Dan continued to rock his hips forward in time with the beat. He wanted so much, and the grinding was just a small tease. Through the fabric, Dan could feel Phil growing harder and harder, making Dan want more. Heat and desire and lust were building in the pit of Dan’s stomach, and he just fucking wanted.

He wanted to taste Phil’s cock in his mouth. He wanted to feel Phil’s bare cock throbbing against his own. He wanted to be stretched around Phil, full and satisfied.

This song — this song out of all the late-nineties and early-two-thousands songs — fucking got to Dan. And he didn’t think it was fully his fault, it wasn’t like he had a thing for it three months ago. But then, one of the earliest videos he’d watched on AmazingPhil was Phil dancing half naked to this song — there was really no coming back from that.

Dan kissed up Phil’s neck, coming to a stop just a short centimeter from Phil’s ear. “Ya know,” he started huskily. He could feel Phil’s fingers dig into his arse, could see how Phil’s breath hitched. Mischievously, Dan continued, “I jacked off to this video.”

The effect was immediate — Phil froze and inhaled so sharply that Dan could actually hear the gasp over the music. For a second, the world was frozen; it was just Dan staring at Phil, a smug smirk on his face, and Phil staring back, shocked and wide-eyed.

And then Phil’s lips crashed onto Dan’s, moving insistently, hotly, and the world was moving again.

The kiss was merciless, Phil’s tongue immediately licking at Dan’s lips and demanding entrance — not that Dan was complaining. He opened his mouth and let Phil in, let Phil ravage him. Phil’s hands disappeared from Dan’s arse, only to land on his cheeks, firmly holding his head in place so Phil could kiss him harder.

There was no air in Dan’s lungs, and he didn’t give a single fuck. The shortness of breath only made everything hotter, and jesus that was a kink Dan didn’t think he had, but then again, he might find any kink hot if it was with Phil. Phil was so in control, so hungry, so domineering, and Dan couldn’t get enough of it.

Phil pulled back without warning, leaving Dan a panting mess. They were so, so close, and Phil’s eyes were nothing but black pupils. He looked ready to fucking devour Dan, and Dan really hadn’t expected this strong of a response but he was living for it. It was making him feel wanted and sexy.

“We’re going,” Phil snapped, his hands roughly unwinding Dan’s arms from his neck. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

Phil’s words were sharp, making it clear that this wasn’t a request. He sounded like he was on the verge of losing control, looked like he might shove Dan against the nearest wall, and take him right then and there.

Their fingers tangled together and Phil spun around, dragging Dan behind him as he pushed his way through the dancing crowd. It was a good thing Phil was holding Dan so tightly, because he was moving so fast that Dan might have gotten lost if their hands got separated.

Phil didn’t stop moving until they’d made it up the stairs, all the way past the sofas and down the hallway. They came to an abrupt halt in front of the coat check window and — shit, right. Their jackets.

Dan dug through his pockets, searching for the tiny ticket that he’d shoved somewhere. Phil’s heavy stare wasn’t helping, only making him feel more flustered and rushed and desperate to get the fuck out of there already.

“Dan,” Phil said, a hint of reprimand and urgency in his voice that spurred Dan to move faster. His fingers finally closed around the small slip, and he wrangled it out, holding it up triumphantly. Phil ripped the ticket out of Dan’s hand, his only response a single approving nod. Phil slammed it down on the counter, his eyes never once drifting from Dan’s.

The coat check worker chuckled — it was probably perfectly clear what was going on. But even that wasn’t enough to drag Phil’s eyes away from Dan. Dan swallowed thickly, his mouth dry, as he held Phil’s gaze. He couldn’t fucking think with Phil looking at him like that. Struck dumb, Dan licked his lips as he waited to see what would happen next.

Phil’s grip was still tight, and he tugged on Dan’s hand. Drunk and caught off guard, Dan stumbled forward, colliding with Phil.

“You’re so sexy,” Phil whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard. “I can’t wait t’fuck you.”

Dan whimpered, fucking whimpered. Phil was so much filthier than his new videos made him seem, he was dirty in all the right ways. Although, looking back, Dan could see some of this Phil in the much younger Phil that had filmed the Toxic video.

The rustling of their jackets hitting the counter jolted Dan and Phil out of their bubble. Both of their heads snapped to face the window, and Dan could tell his cheeks were probably flushed red. He’d forgotten that there was someone else nearby, that someone else was probably paying proper attention to them.

Phil reached out to pull the bundle of clothes closer, clearly avoiding looking at the coat check person. “Put this on s’we can leave,” Phil ordered, shoving Dan’s leather jacket into his chest.

Dan didn’t need telling twice; he sprung into action and clumsily shrugged into his jacket, his hands getting caught several times. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was thanks to the alcohol or lust, but he didn’t care.

Phil slapped a few bills on the counter and grabbed his own coat.

“Thanks boys,” the clerk said cheerfully. “Have a good night! Don’t forget protection!”

Oh god. Dan felt his cheeks grow hot. He didn’t mind people noticing him and Phil were itching to fuck, but christ, he really didn’t expect a random stranger to actually say it.

Phil grumbled something in response, something Dan didn’t quite hear or process, and guided Dan back down the hallway, one hand firmly pressed against Dan’s lower back.

Hot breath washed over Dan’s ear, and he belatedly realized that Phil was close. “I really don’t wanna use a condom,” Phil muttered into his ear. Dan’s breath hitched, and Phil’s fingers curled around to his sides, not giving him a chance to recover before continuing. “Wanna feel you ‘n fill you up.”

“Fuck,” Dan huffed, his mind not able to think about anything other than Phil’s bare cock pressed into him, pumping cum deep into his arse. “Yeah, please. ‘M clean.”

“Good,” Phil said with a note of finality. He opened the club door and ushered Dan through it. Dan stopped just outside the entrance, hovering and waiting for direction from Phil. Phil stood close, head bowed as he tapped on his phone. Dan looked around them, realizing that there was a line now, and the asshole bouncer from earlier was gone. Must have been after one, then.

“Ugh,” Phil groaned. “There’s a twen’y minute wait for’n uber.”

God that was so much longer than Dan wanted to wait. Brows furrowed, Dan glanced up at the street sign.

“We’re only like seven blocks from the hotel, w’can walk faster,” Dan pointed out.

“How’dya know that?” Phil asked, head snapping up, looking surprised.

Dan pointed to the numbered street sign. “Grid system. Let’s go,” Dan suggested, nodding his head in the right direction.

“Perfect,” Phil mumbled. He grabbed Dan’s hand and started walking. His pace wasn’t quite as fast as earlier, something Dan was rather grateful for. He didn’t think he could walk that quickly for seven blocks and not be too out of breath for sex.

The first block, Phil was still walking faster than normal, though. It wasn’t until they reached the first crosswalk and were forced to stop that they both breathed. The break calmed some of the out-of-control desire coursing through Dan’s veins, dulling it down to a pulsing lust. Dan turned to look at Phil, his eyes surely full of fond desire, a smile definitely pulling at his lips.

Phil bounced on his toes for a second, his movements slowing down when the light didn’t immediately change. Phil glanced at Dan, his heady expression melting slightly into something a bit softer, a bit more gentle. The passion and want were still there, but now there was something else, something sweeter, there too.

Now that they were out of the club, free from the throbbing bass of the music and away from the grinding couples, Dan’s mind felt a little clearer. It was chilly out, not quite cold but definitely cool enough that Dan felt justified leaning into Phil a bit, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder and sticking close. Phil smiled down at him fondly as Dan looked up at him through his lashes. The world around seemed to fade away, and there were butterflies fluttering in Dan’s stomach and god how was Phil so sexy and dominate and sweet all in the span of five minutes, this had to be illegal.

Dan’s eyes snapped away when the crosswalk chimed, and suddenly they were walking again. They weren’t the only ones out — if anything, there seemed to be more people on the streets now. As they made their way back to their hotel, they passed club after club, bar after bar, all with lines of drunk twenty-somethings.

Some sober, less reckless part of Dan warned him that all the people meant a higher chance of getting recognized, but he just didn’t care. He wasn’t about to stop and talk to a fan right now. It was Friday night, and the whole city seemed to be intoxicated, and Dan would just have to hope that everyone else was too drunk to notice him.

They came to stop at another intersection, just barely missing the chance to cross. Dan glanced around, taking in the city surrounding them. There was a group of girls nearby, smoking and drinking something out of brown paper bags. There were a few people outside a pizza place, drunkenly eating slices of pizza off white paper plates as they sat on the curb. There was a couple across the way, fighting loudly about something Dan couldn’t make out.

It was late and crowded and everyone was too focused on themselves to take note of anyone else. It was the kind of crowd that made everyone anonymous. The neon city lights were blurry, and made it hard to see the details of anything — although maybe that part was just Dan.

Regardless, he didn't care.

Phil was so close, so warm by Dan’s side and Dan just wanted more.

“Kiss me,” Dan asked, nearly begged, as he looked back at Phil. His voice was high and nearly breathless, so affected that he probably would have been embarrassed by how fucking needy he sounded if the situation had been different. But as it was, this was Phil, Phil who seemed to instinctively understand every single desire Dan had.

Phil smiled at Dan softly, turning so they were face to face. Without hesitation, Phil closed the distance between them, doing as Dan asked. Phil kissed him slowly but thoroughly, his lips moving languidly, his tongue slipping between Dan’s teeth and licking along the roof of his mouth.

“Mmm,” Dan hummed into Phil’s mouth as he wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck, his elbows resting on Phil’s shoulders, wrists crossed behind his head.

Phil’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, but he kept kissing, his arms wrapping around Dan’s waist and pulling him closer.

It was hot — kissing Phil would always be hot — but it was also sweet and maybe even a little romantic. Dan had never kissed someone on the street until Isabella, and in hindsight, everything about those kisses had been for the wrong reasons. This kiss, right now with Phil, wasn’t for pizza eaters or smokers or fighters. This kiss had nothing to do with the audience, and everything to do with the fact that Dan was so fucking head over heels for Phil that Dan couldn’t couldn’t resist kissing him for the two minutes it took for the crosswalk light to change.

At some point, Louise had told him that all of this was so much better when you loved someone, and Dan was realizing how right she was because just kissing had never been this good.

Love.

The word crashed over Dan, suddenly the only thing he could think as he drunkenly kissed his boyfriend in the middle of New York City at two in the morning.

Dan loved Phil.

Dan was one hundred percent, completely and totally in love with the boy kissing him.

Gasping, Dan pulled back from the kiss, his eyes flying open.

“What?” Phil asked breathlessly, a note of urgency in his voice.

“I — nothing.” Dan swallowed thickly, there was no way he could say what he was thinking. Not now, not already. His gaze drifted over Phil’s shoulder and caught on the signal, which was now showing a white walking man. “We can cross now.”

Dan hoped his voice was steady, hoped it wasn’t obvious that his mind was somewhere, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t very subtle. If Phil noticed, though, he didn’t say anything. He just followed Dan into the street, one arm still wrapped around his waist, holding Dan close as they continued walking. Dan leaned into Phil’s side, stumbling slightly and focusing entirely too much on the way Phil’s fingers had dipped under his shirt and were thumbing over his side, and not nearly enough of the sidewalk.

Yeah, Dan was definitely in love with him.

[torannosaurusrexy]

No Mercy

Chapter 1: A String Of Losses

➝ Genre: Smut

➝ Pairing: Park Jimin | Reader

{Switch!Jimin} {Switch!Reader} {Boyfriend Jimin} {Teasing} {Masturbation} {Masturbation—Female} {Jimin Being A Lil’ Shit} {Competing Couple} {Short Fic Series} 

➝ Word Count: 4728 | Ch. 1/2

{Read on AO3} ➝ {Here}

➝ Summary: Some couples play Monopoly, others play Chess. However, Jimin and you are not those couples. You prefer to play games with much higher stakes, and the stakes this time? Well, they’re higher than ever before. The rules are simple: The first to cave loses and the winner tops. Simple as that.

“Check mate.” Namjoon smiles, moving his bishop deftly into a position of no return, making you drop your jaw and nearly flip the table in frustration when you realize you lost yet another long winded chess match against the master™. Aside from Namjoon’s near genius IQ, you have to admit that he’s rather cunning and charismatic atop that reliable brain of his. He uses his way with words and means of complimenting you platonically as a means of strategic annihilation. 

You fall back against the chair, huffing in subsequent diffidence that leaves Namjoon reeling. There’s no doubt that Namjoon’s gotten a kick out of your persistent thirst for victory. He wears a blithesome smile thats stretched so far from ear to ear that you worry his face is—or soon will be—permanently stuck that way. “No fair!” You jump out of your seat, pointing at the chess board like it somehow cheated you and now you were left with nothing but a string of losses and a shattered ego. 

Namjoon laughs, throwing his head back before allowing it to rise again as he runs a delicate hand through his silvery locks. “What do you mean no fair? I won.” He points at the marble chess board, eyeing the abundance of pieces he took from you while he still had quite an assortment of soldiers at his beck and call…it seems Chess just isn’t your cup of tea. “The game was practically mine the second you moved your rook out of the main defense line.” He talks lambently with his hands, going on to describe what you could’ve done to avoid such a situation…and another loss. You’ve lost interest though, especially as you spot Hoseok and Jungkook deep in a game of foosball. 

Now there’s a game you can go varsity in. 

“That’s all great Joon, why don’t you teach Taehyung or Yoongi while I go regroup by kicking Kook’s ass at foosball?” He halts his stale monologue about the finery of chess to stare up at you with a puzzled look on his face. He turns to rest his eyes upon the two boys who have their tongues poking at the flesh of their cheeks while they try to decode the contingency of their foretold game. 

Nodding, Namjoon turns back to you, smiling reluctantly. “Fine.” He relinquishes, allowing you the freedom you requested and returning his attention to the chessboard, examining the pieces and placing them back on the appropriate square as you begin to skip away towards the active match inside the large wooden table that shakes every so often due to the animosity in which the two young men play. 

Jungkook scores past Hoseok and takes the game, an exponential lead that—despite his best efforts—Hoseok never would have won. “Think I can have a go?” You ask, standing beside Jungkook who’s still mid victory dance. On a piece of paper, Jin jots down the score silently. 

“Finally! A rookie.” Hoseok grins, assuming you’ve never played foosball and thinks he finally has the advantage over an opponent. 

“Funny, but I’ll have you know I was trained in the most advanced foosball arts.” You lie, trying to get Hoseok to cower into one of the stools beside Jin who’s now staring between the group while he waits to keep track of the next match. 

“Foosball Arts? That’s not a thing.” Jungkook spins one of the metal bars within the table around quickly, rattling the little plastic players within that you can’t help but feel bad for. 

You look away from the spinning bar and instead place your hands on your hips, taking a step towards Jungkook and cocking an eyebrow. “And how would you know?” 

“I made Yoongi look it up once. I wanted to take a class…alas, it did not exist.” He shrugs, making everyone within the vicinity break down in laughter at his sarcastic stupidity. 

Upon recovering, you step to one side of the table, holding two of the handles and taking a competitive stance. “Despite that, wanna play?” Jungkook and the others slowly let the laughter die down before positions are taken and Jin stands to drop the ball into the board. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” He smirks and shifts his eyes quickly from you to the wooden table decorated pristinely like a field. 

The ball is dropped and both opposing sides snap into play. 

At the same time as ball meets wood, Yoongi traipses through the threshold to the lounge; Taehyung and Jimin following close behind, but they’re too caught up in conversation to notice the game taking place upon entering. Namjoon smiles when Yoongi joins him at the chess table; frankly you aren’t sure how long that will last—nevertheless, he seems overjoyed to see his close friend. 

Across the room, Taehyung flamboyantly throws his hands into each word he utters; a laugh of amusement flowing from Jimin upon hearing the end of Taehyung’s unruly story. A yelp of disfavour leaps without notice from your throat as Jungkook scores, and Jimin jumps at the sound of your voice. “That’s three to three. Seems you guys are tied.” Jin announces, making yet another tally mark on the small notepad he has with a flick of his pen.

The game soon resumes and you still remain oblivious to Jimin’s entry with the others. However, he’s anything but oblivious to your presence. Embracing a taciturn air, Jimin abandons Taehyung who doesn’t seem the least bit bothered; portrayed by his blithesome smile upon approaching Yoongi and Namjoon. You spin one of the rows of players hard enough for the ball to fly past Jungkooks defenses and directly into the goal. “Yes!” You bellow, throwing your hands up in the air. Jimin takes advantage and loops his arms around your waist. 

“Nice shot, but I’ve seen better.” He teases, juddering your hips back and forth in his palms gently. 

You spin to wrap your arms around his neck, “Its nice to see you too.” His lips steal yours in a suitably soft smooch that leaves you blushing.

“Ughhhh, gross!” Hoseok groans jokingly, pretending to hurl into Jin’s lap. “Get a room will ya?!” The small group chuckles together before you finally slip from Jimin’s airy grasp. He lingers, admiring your derrière from afar. 

“One more point and I win maknae.” 

Jungkook snorts, “Yeah we’ll see about that; and it's Golden Maknae to you.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself Kook.” Namjoon says from across the room, remaining absolute and focused on his game with Yoongi but somehow still finding time to shrink the Maknae’s ego. 

More laughter; the most heavenly of sounds thrown from each of these boys as if they’re happy to be rid of it. It provides such rapture that you’re not sure you could ever live without the sound. 

Jin drops the ball back onto the chipped playing field, and off the two of you go; spinning the plastic players with all your might. Your hands ache and sting with how tight you squeeze the paddles. You want this win. You need this win. Being competitive runs through your blood faster than that of the oxygen it carries. Currently, you have control of the ball. Getting past Jungkook wont be easy. He’s fast and has the reflexes of a cobra…scoring won’t be any walk in the park. Passing the ball to another row of your players, you slip past your adversary’s last line of defense. But, it’s too late. Jungkook spins his paddle of players and the ball goes flying all the way back, making a home directly in your goal box. “NO! Goddammit!” Hoseok and Jin burst out laughing, Jungkook celebrates with a dance. 

Wiping away a jest induced tear, Jin finally announces the score. “Four to four hot stuff. Seems the maknae might win after-all.” 

“I wouldn’t bet on it.” You growl, keen on winning and rubbing it in Jungkooks smug face.

“I will.” Jimin shrugs, smiling. You and the others divert your stares to your boyfriend who seems for dying today. “I’ll bet that Jungkook wins. If he does…then I get something in return. Fair?” 

“Uh oh, they’re doing it again.” Jungkook whispers towards his two elders who have been onlookers this entire time. 

The three of them turn pale, bets between the two of you have ended in a variety of ways. Multiple involving some of the ensemble getting injured by flying shoes and handbags. Jungkook—poor boy—is the unlucky chap caught in the crossfires this time around…and the pale hue to his usually bright melanin skin tells anyone who dare to look over that something is about to go horribly wrong; or that Jungkook is about to be revisited by his lunch. 

You turn to face Jimin, pulling him by the shirt towards you. “And if I win?” 

He grins, his fairy like blue hair making him appear innocent when he’s anything but. “We’ll decide later. Just do me a favor and lose.”  

“Over my dead body.” 

“That can be arranged.” 

You raise a fist to hit your lover when Jungkook calls out: “Growing old here! I don’t care what the two of you get if you win or I do; but I for one would like to actually find out who owns the bragging rights.” Jin and Hoseok try their damndest to conceal smiles, but fail nonetheless. 

You return to the table, trying with all your might not to let the nervousness you feel sift its way onto your face. Jungkook radiates cocky energy the second you look up to meet his steadfast eyes. “Last point; next scorer takes the game!” Jin announces, sounding exactly like a sports announcer should. “On my count.” He looks to both players. “Ready? Set? Go!” 

With his last dropped word the ball follows and the game resumes, drawing the attention of all occupants of the room. Taehyung has gravitated towards the table, even Namjoon and Yoongi have turned their bodies and heads to watch the making of a foosball champion. Which hopefully, is you. 

Your tongue rests at the corner of your mouth as you watch with sharp eyes: the ball move back and forth between the two teams’ players. “Get out of my way dammit!” You shout, raising a chuckle from your opponent and friends. 

“That kinda defeats the purpose gorgeous.” Jungkook utters, smiling. 

Jungkook has the ball, moving up the field and closer to your goal box. At last second you're able to maneuver the ball from him, moving it back towards his goal. Your attempts are short-lived however; as your opponent uses his quick thinking and rapid reflexes to steal the ball back and move it down towards your side. Sweat trickles down the back of your neck, you’re not sure if you could take another second of the stress. If you time it right, you could hit the ball past Jungkooks defense and into his goal. So, you spin the paddle.

Your heart rings in your ears and you squeeze your eyes shut. You hear the ball land in a goal box. You smile and open your eyes, ready to celebrate. Jungkook cheers, jumps up and down and moves away to do a front flip. “Victory is sweet!” He screams. 

You’re at a loss for words. Your jaw falls slack and a chorus of ‘Ooo’s’ and low grunts erupt through the crowd. “Nice pull through Kook. I was sure you’d lose.” 

Taehyung goes and gives Jungkook a high five, providing you with a solemn look of peace. Then, the cool presence of Jimin comes up behind you. He whispers, “Now…for the next competition.” 

The evening draws to a close when the others depart to find time for themselves. Namjoon and Yoongi first, most likely heading back to their studio’s or rooms back in the dorms to produce or catch up on some much needed beauty sleep. Jin, Hoseok, and Taehyung leave not too long afterward. They said something about going out to eat. Jungkook’s head turned at that but he was looking to Jimin and you to see if you’d be joining them. “We’ll catch up Kook. Tell the other’s we’ll meet you all there.” Jimin’s smile was warmer than a crackling fireplace, and there’s no way Jungkook could say no. He pivots, and follows the others out the door with a smile. 

Jimin waits until he no longer hears footsteps to turn to you and steal your lips for his own. You push him off thanks to his lingering words still swirling through your mind. “So about this competition…” You start, “Care to tell me more?” 

Your lover grins from ear to ear. “So you got a hold of that did you?” 

You nod. “I did. And i’d like to know what you meant by it.”

He sighs, moving his hands down to your hips and holding you there. “I was thinking...we play a game with higher stakes than that of a foosball game.” 

Your curiosity has officially peaked. Park Jimin has these dark eyes that can scoop you up completely with just one glance. Your full attention is on those eyes, and what they’ll do next. “What does the winner get?” 

“Topping rights.” He whispers the words with a gentle smirk plastered to his face. It's clear that this has been an idea of his for quite some time. Like a sleeping panther, he waited for his time to strike. 

You waver, fluttering your eyelashes and glancing about the room. “For how long?” 

Jimin licks his lips, “A week.”

“Hm, Surprising.” You’ve grown cocky, and feel a raging fire of confidence surge through you.

“What is?” Your lover questions, confused by your comment.

“It’s surprising that you’d be willing to give up topping rights for a whole week.”

He starts to laugh, to think you actually believe you’ll beat him. Jimin’s had this game of his planned out for months; and he knows your weaknesses. “I admire your confidence. But I’ll win this one Kitten, you can bet on that.” 

You move forward and kiss him, mumbling a “We’ll see about that.” Between your parting lips. 

Dinner at the restaurant with Jungkook, Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jin was business as usual. The appetite the boys had was big; and the bill was twice that size. Upon arrival of certain meal parts and between meat being cooked, Jimin had conjured a deep and insightful conversation with Taehyung about Korean traditions and origins, a topic Jin soon took over. “Hungry?” Your lover whispers, his hand resting on your thigh. 

“Very; my stomach might eat itself if I don’t get something inside me soon.” 

A silence ensues between you two, but Jimin’s eyes gleam with the promise of an innuendo don’t leave you. He starts to chuckle and you soon register the words that escaped you. “I can put something inside—” 

You dig your nails into his hand that you’ve been holding. 

Jimin flinches, wincing in pain before reaching for your wrist with his free hand. He squeezes until you let up and whisper, “Nice try.” 

Jimin smiles and looks up to Hoseok, “Hyung, we have a hangry lady over here…mind saving me from a mauling?” He asks, teasing you gently with the use of the word hangry. Doing so all while all while desperately trying to evert his train of thought from attempting to seduce you. 

Hoseok proceeds to cut open different chunks of meat, checking each one for imperfections and rawness. “These few are done.” He announces, pointing to a select couple of chunks that make your mouth water.

Both Taehyung and Jin stop their conversing at the announcement of fully cooked meat. “Ladies first.” Hoseok hastily lets the words slip past his lips, gulping back a mouth of saliva. 

Your own lips part to answer him as you hold out your plate. It’s then that Jimin’s hand moves towards an area of you that is usually reserved for touching within the confines of your bedroom. “ThANK you Hobi.” Jimin’s hand brushes over your panties, up and down tracing slow needy movements that causes your tone to fluctuate.  

Hoseok doesn’t seem to take your tone fluctuation as anything out of the ordinary. If anything, he thinks you’re playing. “You’RE WELcome!” He jokes, copying your tone. 

You quickly take back your plate, dropping it onto the table and allowing it to land safely with a clack. Jimin resumes a conversation with Jungkook to cover his own ass. His hand and fingers remain doing the job they set out to do: torture you and win this little competition as fast as possible. 

Jin laughs loudly, slapping Hoseok on the back. The mixture of sounds breaks you away from and out of the haze Jimin’s fingers put—more like forces—you into. Underneath the table, your hand pushed Jimins away even though the feeling of ecstasy he feeds you leaves you in a state of ravenous hunger unrelated to the cooling meat on the plate ahead of you. If he thinks he’s going to win topping rights so easily…then he’s wrong. It’s the first night, and you plan to last much longer than that.

Jimin withdrawals, as the rules state. If he were to press on, he’d lose. And if you were to accept his come on…you would have to accept defeat.

Dammit. This competition is proving to be quite the futile feat. Hopefully…you’re strong enough to make it through without allowing a finger to slip into you. 

Two. Weeks.

Two damn weeks! 

Two weeks of nothing more than casual kisses and hand holds. It has been fourteen days since Jimin and you decided that this competition would be fun. And it has been sixteen days since you two last slept together.

Raw, passionate, heart rattling sex. 

You have never missed it so much before. Its one thing to not have a vessel that can bring you both pleasure and love, but it’s a whole other to be tied to one and neither of you can do jack about it all thanks to a petty agreement. 

“Is masturbating cheating?” You blurt mid movie viewing on the couch with Jimin who’s munching on popcorn and obviously absorbed into the plot line of the film.

“What?” He chokes, coughing up a kernel that he catches before it can pass his lips. 

“Because touching myself sounds so good right now. Like, Chicago deep dish pizza good.” 

Jimin chuckles, taking another handful of popcorn and shoving it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before commenting. “Seems like someones tapping out.”

You raise your eyebrows and shift uncomfortably away from him, “I never said I was tapping out!” You swallow and clear your throat, “I merely asked if masturbating was cheating!”

Jimin hums, thinking calmly. “Hm…no. No it’s not.” 

You cross your arms, “You’re only saying that because you’ve jizzed four times this week already.” 

Jimins arm escapes from behind you, the movie that before had his attention absorbed, now completely labeled as nothing more than white noise. “What? No I—”

“Chim, I’m not blind. I know you don’t have a cold and the crumpled up tissues in the bathroom garbage were definitely not there when I left for groceries around noon.” 

“Oh please, you’re telling me you haven’t touched yourself once for two weeks?” 

“Three.” You correct, growing antsy. 

Jimin gulps as he stares at you, looking serious but soon his soft features melt to show a laugh.

“What’s so damn funny?!” You yell, sitting up straighter. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t think of the loophole sooner!” 

You pick up a pillow and wack him with it, he moves the popcorn out of the way; sacrificing his face in lieu of the buttery bowl. “Asshole.” 

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds Kitten. Just say the word.” He wears a smug grin that whispers devilish intent, he wants to cave just as much as you do; but he knows he can’t. Winning is his ultimate goal. 

“In your dreams.” 

“How’d you know?” 

“Ha. Ha. Hilarious.” 

Jimin looks away, picking his popcorn back up and continuing to eat. “Fine then, thats your call. Suffer alone.”

“I won’t suffer.” You stand, turning towards your boyfriend before leaving the room, “I don’t need you to cum. Enjoy the movie Jimin.” You call, catching your boyfriend mid mouthful as he turns to watch you go.

“What? Where are you going?! Rachel is about to stand up to Eleanor at the wedding! I’m betting—and hoping—that she slaps that woman! Do you think she actually farts channel N.5?” He mumbles the last part to himself, but eventually pauses the film to chase after you, wherever you ran off to. 

Jimin moves swiftly down the hall with a couple last pieces of popcorn in his hand. He couldn’t possibly enjoy the movie without you. Besides, you were keeping him warm and now he’s caught a chill thanks to your absence. “Babe, I’ll get fat if you let me eat all this popcorn alone. Please come watch with me. I’m sorry I laughed.” He giggles to himself again, remembering the question you asked. “I just figured that you of all people would have taken full advantage of that loop hole. I’m surprised, and impressed!” He compliments.

Your shared bedroom door is ajar, and Jimin approaches it with caution; recalling several pranks involving flour, airhorns, and slime that have taken place in this very threshold. His mouth falls agape when he begins to form your name, the letters averse as they never fully reach maturity. From within the bedroom Jimin can hear stuttering pants and moans, ones so mystifying and familiar. They could only be coming from you. 

Those sweet purrs you let out acting as music to Jimins ears. 

Clearly, his answer to your question imbued in you enough courage to put date night on pause and pleasure yourself in the next room. Your behavior was insufferable, but oh so resolute. The intricacy of your movements had Jimins own hand palming his length through his jeans. The rules to this competition state that touching each other is forbidden and therefore no possibility. But, no where does it state that voyeurism is unwelcome.

Within the room, on the edge of the bed your lips incrementally part; the space between them unceremoniously filled with your tongue that pokes at the opening. Jimins hand squeezes tighter around his length with each pump over his length. The very sight of you so exposed and lust driven is indisputably the most beautiful you’ve ever appeared. Coveted, Jimin moans quietly as your finger is joined by another, your free hand working on other erogenous zones to provide a more fluid pleasure. Jimin dubiously sidles closer to the opening in the door, seeking fortuitous noises from you to further fuel his movements. “Jimin…right there.” You coo, imagining that it was your lover who was moving within you in lieu of your two digits. 

Thats all Jimin needed.

As painful as it is to complete, Jimin zips his jeans. He tucks his length against his stomach, held in place by his belt. Assuming position, he allows his foot to push the door open gently. However, the push is strong enough to reveal him standing in the doorway. “Right where baby?”

“Come to torture yourself?” You grin, curling your fingers deep inside you. Their motion is slow but rough. The very feeling has your eyes rolling back in your head. 

“Of course not. I find great joy in watching you fall apart under your own hands. The very sight will hold me over for another week. Maybe two, if I use my time wisely. So thanks Kitten.” Jimin winks, and reaches for the door. “Have fun.” He coos before walking out and closing it over.

“Fuck you Park Jimin!” You yell, realizing just now that despite the view, you may have actually helped your boyfriend win.

Attempt One: Failure.

“How in the holy mother of hell are you guys still alive?”

“Hobi, people don’t just drop like flies when they haven’t gotten laid for a little while.” Jimin laughs, sipping from a water bottle between choreography sessions. 

“A month Jimin! I’d be worried for my health!” The elder boy fakes a shiver, laughing when he catches wind of the laughable air the situation withholds. 

Jungkook gets up from stretching on the floor, he too is drenched in a thin sheen of sweat. “I thought you were kidding! She’s right there all the time man, how have you been keeping it down?!”

Jimin smacks his lips; “Kook, let me show you something.” He takes Jungkook by the shoulder, throwing his arm over it to control where he walks. He saunters him over to a mirror. “You see this?” He says, pointing at Jungkooks reflection.

“Yes? It’s me.”

Jimin nods, “Correct. I too see a virgin who has absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.”

Jungkook throws Jimin’s arm off of him, blushing profusely and shooting the two older and now laughing boys a burning look of hatred. “I’m not a virgin!” 

“Surrrrrrre; whatever you say Golden Virgin.” Hoseok jibes, sipping from a water bottle with a drenched towel around his neck.

“The Virgin Mary Maknae!” Jimin turns, pointing at Hoseok when he comes up with the second nickname. 

The two hyungs hold hands and begin to chant half-assed nicknames that leave Jungkook stained red. 

After practice, the room had been evacuated; only Jimin left surrounded by mirrors. And of course…his cell phone. He knows you’re probably home right now. Shoulder deep in a month old package of questionable Oreos. Whats wrong with sending one picture? One little picture. Jimin knows that if you reciprocate…he wins. 

Positioning himself in front of one of the many floor length mirrors, Jimin opens his camera and holds up his shirt with his mouth. His joggers hang low enough to reveal his deep v-line and when he flexes each individual abdominal muscle becomes enhanced. “Chew on this baby.” He slurs to you, smirking into the cloth in his mouth. His finger hovers over the send button after the picture is taken. It’s with that same cocky grin that he clicks send. 

You hear the ding from your phone on the coffee table. Jimin was right. You’ve already made a tyrannosaurus like dent in this package of Oreos, and there’s no chance of you stopping in sight. You continue to munch cuddled up on the couch with a fuzzy blanket, picking up your phone with innocence in your doe eyes. His name appears all happy on your screen, so you unlock the device without hesitation.

19:34 Jiminie 🥰💖 | Hi Kitten, just finished practice! Hobi worked Kook and I to the bone today. Look how sweaty he got me!

It’s with slim ambivalent behavior that you click on the photo Jimin has sent. You gulp at the sight. The view is downright blasphemous. The most nefarious part to it being that you just know he meant to send it. Time and time again has Jimin seen the way you look as him after a good workout and just how it affects you. Nothing has changed now. It physically hurts you not to tell him to rush home. Or that you’d love to come and see what he’s practiced today…not that you’d be seeing anything other than his shimmering body moving against yours. 

You need to answer him. He probably knows your gawking—more like drooling into your Oreos—at him. Through gritted teeth, you set out to extinguish his inner incubus by typing up something…normal.

19:37 | Thats great baby! So glad you had a great time! You’re probably famished after all that exercise. What do you want for dinner?

Jimin chuckles to himself upon reading your response. He can imagine what you look like based off of previous knowledge. You’re most likely blushing and biting your lip. It’s all too easy.

Jimin swallows, typing a response thats sure to be incendiary.

19:40 Jiminie 🥰💖|You.

He quickly answers. You hold your phone tightly, blushing and biting your lip in the exact fashion that Jimin imagined. 

19:40 | I think we’re fresh out :( Will pasta suffice?

Jimin sighs. He’s picked a worthy opponent. One that won’t go down without a fight. 

19:44 Jiminie 🥰💖| I guess :/