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#i WAS just planning to go something close to my usual kinda blue black situation but now I'm like

unoriginalmess · 3 years

Text

A Second Mask: Chapter 4

Did that just happen?

Hello guys! It's me. I'm finally writing again. Sorry about the delay. I'm going to explain more at the end of the chapter, but I'm just going to keep the beginning short. So here is chapter 4:

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To say Adrien was concerned would be a huge understatement. He was downright disturbed. Its been weeks and still Marinette hadn't changed back to the happy, peppy, nice girl that he knew. AND SHE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT!

He tried to talk to her for a whole week after her original trasformation, but after the repeated firm rejections, he stopped altogether. He figured that maybe with some space, she might be able to work through whatever she was going through, but at this point, he's losing hope.

When he is feeling this distressed about something, he usually turns to his lady, but she has been acting weird too. Ever since she suggested they start sparring, she's started to show that she is going through kinda a rough time as well. She is the same ladybug when everyone is watching, but when it's just the two of them, she looks sad and tired. She has also started saying some concerning things while they are sparring. She has started talking about how she has started taking being Ladybug and the Guardian more seriously, and how she has less distractions now, which would be a good thing if she didn't say them so sadly.

The good thing is, the sparring has given him a chance to get out his aggression because of the whole Marinette-situation and his anger at his father in a safe environment. He didn't like the idea of hitting Ladybug at first (especially in the face) but with her not holding back on her hits, he felt more comfortable doing the same. It has helped them fight better too. He hopes that whatever Ladybug is going through in her civillian life will work itself out soon, but until then he will be there for her. He just needs to figure out how to be there for Marinette.

•••

Felix was making good progress with Marinette. After they first asked marinette about (insert fashion question of your choice here, I legit know nothing and I didn't have time to research anything for this chapter), she had started answering their questions on a daily basis. After a couple of days of that, she had started to rant to them about different things in the fashion world that were bothering her, exciting her, or confusing her that particular day. In response to that, they had started to respond to her rants with their own opinions on the subjects and even start their own rants.

It had gotten to the point where Felix would now consider them to be friends, though they know that Marinette would never call them as such, it was fine with them. They know she has trust issues, and they can understand why, so they are fine with being friends in everything but a name.

Felix was looking forward to their daily banter as they waited in their seat for Marinette to arrive. When she did, she was followed by a very pissed-looking Alya. Felix turned to look at her and noticed that she had what looked to be tears forming in her eyes. What they didn't notice was the little black butterfly that had entered through the window in the back of the room, and was making a beeline towards her.

•••

Marinette walked to school in yet another one of her newest fashion creations: a pair of oversized grey ripped jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. She was actually really liking her new look, and the comfort that it offered was just an added plus.

She was actually feeling excited to talk to Felix about Gabriel Agreste's newest fashion flop. They were the only person that she had met that actually cared about fashion as much as her. It made her happy to talk to them. It kind of scared her how excited she was. Shouldn't she be distancing herself from everyone? she thought to herself. No. Felix isn't my friend, they aren't close to me, they are just someone I talk fashion with. Like a coworker, yeah. Totally. Felix is just a coworker. ("Liar" says the inner voice in her head)

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she was pulled to the side by someone as she entered the courtyard. Her mind immediately thought of an akuma, when the person spoke.

"Marinette! Girl," Oh it's just Alya. Wait Alya? "How long are you gonna keep up this cry for attention? Are you really THAT jealous of Lila? I know that Adrien likes her, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this! And you are hanging out with Felix, who accused her of sexually harrassing Adrien on their first day here-?" She looked absolutely furious at her, but Marinette had heard enough. She cut Alya off in the middle of her presumably long rant.

"ALYA!" Said girl jumped at both the inturruption and the tone of voice used, "First of all, this isn't a cry for attention, if anything its a cry for leaving me the fuck alone. Second of all, I'm not jealous of Lila. I'm not in love with Adrien anymore, and haven't been for a while. You knew that I was dating Luka right? Why would I care who Adrien likes? Lastly, I am allowed to hang out with whoever I choose, whether you like them or not. It's none of your fucking business Alya, and if you think that I'm just some jealous, attention-seeker why do you even care?" With that last question she stormed off to the classroom, leaving a speechless Alya behind her.

When marinette sat down in her seat, she just kept thinking about how Alya was just talking to her. How could she think that about her? They used to be best friends, and Alya wasn't even concerned about her not talking to her anymore, she was just concerned about her being "jealous of Lila". It made her so furious that she could feel tears trickling down her face. She sees the black butterfly out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs it out of the air.

(Next part is taken from this post by @bigfatbreak)

"Go ahead and akumatize me- See what happens, Hawkmoth!" She screamed the words with a slight madness that the energy of the akuma was giving her, "Every leash has two ends! I just have to pull until I find where you're holding it!"

At this point, the entire class was frozen in place watching her and listening to her crazed-sounding voice threaten an actual terrorist. Marinette felt Hawkmoth's confusion and terror through the bond. What in the- She's sensing me through the Akuma?! The akuma then started to fly away, and when it couldn't it zapped her hand like it was made of lightning and fluttered through the same window it came from. Marinette felt like she had failed yet again and collapsed down on her desk, muttering, "Uuuuggghh. It escaped anyway... What a waste. I didn't realize that Hawkmoth was such a coward. He usually likes grandstand..."

She was startled when her hand was picked up by Felix's, "You likely scared him off by managing to locate him like that... A risky move, I should mention. I would ask that you not attempt that a second time. No one knows what his akuma is truly capable of. You'll want to keep off of this hand for a while, too."

"Oh, are those the doctor's orders? Why, Felix, it almost sounds like you care about meeee." Marinette was all too amused by Felix's concern for her. She also liked to tease them... AS COWORKERS DO.

"I have an investment in your presence. Now don't be cheeky and let's get you to the nurse's office," They said while holding her wrist and gently pulling her in that direction.

Marinette scoffed, "'An investment in my presence'??"

Felix chuckled while still semi-dragging her by the wrist towards the front of the room, being careful not to hurt her injury even worse, "What did I just say about being cheeky?"

On their way out of the door they passed a VERY distressed-looking Adrien. He seemed to be sharing the sentiment with the entire class of: Did that just happen?

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And thats chapter 4. It is VERY LATE! I know. I've been swamped with work, and when I went to write it, I had zero ideas on how to write this chapter. I never ended up getting those ideas. I just went where my writing took me, so if it doesn't really match the characters that's why. I will try to be better at updating regularly, but it probably won't happen. Sorry to everyone with a normal sleep schedule, but this is the time that I write things. Also I didn't have my outline with me while writing this chapter, so it might not have everything I planned to write in it.

I would like to thank you all for all of the support I've been getting on this fic. Despite all of the chapter delays, you guys have stuck with me through all of it, so thank each and every one of you. I love seeing so many people loving this au as much as I do. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist, and I would've stopped writing it after the first chapter.

As always, constructive criticism is always accepted. I love being able to improve my writing whenever possible.

Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/night/whenever you are reading this. See ya next time guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

Taglist

@queer-illusion @apasponsor @heckinggremlin @1-ahiro-1 @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @sassakitty @lennauts @rianoel @dorkus-minimus @khneltea @welp-that-was-unexpected @mlnchlymrshmllw @lovelyautumnsunflower @chariphrasis @lovesbooks @komatsuna-yuki @polyvirnl @innocentlyguiltyfrenchfry @qhobias @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @hammalammadamdam @cloudydaysomewhere @alcoholic-barney @basenikon @xxbehindthemaskxx @corporeal-terrestrial @shadowymemoirs @moonlight-densetsuu

#a second mask #feralnette #feralnette au #felinette #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #here it finally is #idk why some of the tags arent working

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dameronology · 3 years

Text

never doubt me {cassian andor}

summary: after falling into the hands of the empire, a situation of life and death forces you and cassian to finally talk about your feelings {for @megmeg-chan and i am sO sorry it’s taken me so long to do this}

summary: language, mentions of injury, talks ab death/loss in a canon kinda way

enjoy!! i haven’t written for cassian in so long and i forgot how much i loved him, so expect more of him in the future😌

- jazz

Cassian Andor was a filthy liar.

No, deep breath. He wasn't that bad.

The situation was just really fucking irritating and, in all likelihood, making your anger towards him a little more irrational. It wasn't really even his fault either. He'd told you incessantly that the mission was going to go well, and that you both going to be fine. Like, totally fiiiine, and that you would both get into the base without trouble and reunite in the middle, near the Imperial comms system. It was just that neither of you had planned for or expected stormtroopers to be present -- he'd gotten away in one piece, but you hadn't been so lucky.

That brings us to now: a cell, with two stormtroopers parked outside and quite literally no sign of Cassian anywhere. You knew he'd be looking for you; in fact, you didn't doubt it once. There was a sort of unspoken pact between you that you would always rescue one another; always have each other's backs and never leave the other behind. It was born from the fact that friendships were hard to forge in your line of work, and what you and Cassian had was rare. Not even just in the Rebellion, but rather life in general. On the surface, you teased and ripped into one another to no end. The chemistry was almost suffocating for the people around you, because they could never get a word in edge ways. Then, if you dug a little deeper, there was something more. Something sweeter, something more supportive. You knew him better than he knew himself and in return, he could read you like his favourite novel (though, admittedly, it did sometimes feel like you were missing a few pages. Human complexity and all that).

‘Do you feel like speaking now?’ The modulated voice of one of the stormtroopers came from the other side of your cell door.

‘I’ll die before telling you jackshit.’ You muttered. Hopefully that was more of a statement and less of a prophecy.

The trooper snorted. ‘Okay, sweetheart-’

‘- call me that again and I will shove that blaster sideways up your ass.’ You spat.

‘The only thing you’re doing is rotting here.’

With that, he turned his back to you again.

You slumped further down the wall, ignoring the feeling of the cold concrete etching through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was cold in here. Really, really fucking cold, and Cassian had said you wouldn’t need a jacket. Then again, he’d said a lot of things. And again, none of it was his fault, but you cursed yourself for so blindly listening to him. It was nice that you took everything the other said as gospel, even if it came back to bite you in the ass every so often.

‘A word of advice-’

‘- I don’t want any advice.’ You turned away from the trooper, pulling you knees to your chest.

‘The sooner you talk, the less painful it’ll be.’ He ignored your refusal.

You didn’t need to ask what he meant by it. You’d been part of the Rebellion long enough to have heard stories -- stories of torture, stories of war and the the kind of horrors that people often took to the grave. You had a fair few of your own, and so did Cassian. That was probably why he’d become so important to you. He was one of the only people in the galaxy who truly understood the downfalls of being a Rebel spy. Your cause was more important to you than anything (well, almost anything) and you wouldn’t have changed it for the world, but there were times like this where you wondered if it was all worth it. Would there ever come a day where the Empire truly fell, once and for all? And would you even be around to see it? Would Cassian?

Speaking of the devil, where the fuck was he? He never usually took this long. A few hours at most, but you’d long surpassed that. You could only very barely see the sky through the tiny window, but the sky had faded from powder blue to a dark navy, signalling it had been well over half a day. That was bad for multiple reasons -- the first being that the longer you were here, the more likely Cassian was to assume the worst and stop searching. Secondly, and perhaps most hauntingly, was that each passing second brought you closer to the Imps dragging you out the cell and taking you for questioning. And questioning, in their books, didn’t involve much talking. Go figure.

The injuries you sustained in your capture were bad enough; a bust lip, bruised eye and twisted ankle never made for much comfort. Even less so when you couldn’t get medical attention. The fact you knew it would be the least of your problems in a few hours made it all that much worst.

You’d never doubted Cassian Andor before. Not once. Couldn’t even fathom it, truth be told. He always came through for you; always saved your ass, whether it be from yourself or from Imps. He was your person. That’s the only way you could have put it.

But, above all, he was a human being. Not a super hero, or a miracle worker. He could only do so much and you knew he would. He would follow every lead and every clue to try and get to you, but that’s all he could do. If he couldn’t find you, that wasn’t him on him. You doubted that he would think the same, and when you heard the lock to your cell open, you could only hope and pray that he knew that. That you weren’t going to blame him for what was about to happen, or hold it against him.

‘It’s time.’ The stormtrooper announced. ‘Hope you can handle a bit of pain.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I can handle anything.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it.’ He guffawed. ‘Hands out.’

‘C’mon, man.’ You murmured. ‘My legs gone, my lips bust and my head feels someone’s dropped an iron anvil on it. You don’t need to cuff - ouch!’

You let out a squeak as he grabbed your wrists, tugging them forward and shoving a pair of metal cuffs on them. Was this really it? The end? Was your name gonna be the next one on the list of people lost in the Rebellion? That was if anybody even noticed.

Cassian would. Of course, Cassian would. It hurt your heart to think that you wouldn’t see him again, or get to say a proper goodbye. The last time you’d seen him, you’d been dragged away from him kicking and screaming. He’d been so close, and if he’d been just a little nearer when they’d got you, he might have been able to save you, to stop you from falling into the hands of the Empire. You always figured that if you were gonna die in the field, he’d be by your side. The dumbassery you so often found yourselves in usually happened together.

The walls of the Imperial base were dark - as if you’d expected anything else. It was hardly like the place was going to look like a bright, airy Ikea showroom. The only light came from the thousands of tiny red and blue buttons flickering on the wall, illuminating the hallways in what would have been a pretty glow if the circumstances weren’t so fucking miserable. Talk about a high way to hell.

You took another left, the trooper’s grip on you tightening as you neared some double towards the end. Yep, here it was. This is where you met your maker. And from what you’d heard, the six-foot-something guy in a black mask did not take prisoners. Not that he was the one you were thinking of. No, that was Cassian. Completely and entirely Cassian; just his face and his presence and his everything at the back of your mind, the last thing you could think of before you were about to die for your cause-

-you let out an oof! as the stormtrooper suddenly pulled you to the ground, practically using you as a human shield against the blaster fire and smoke grenade that had just come from behind you. You tried to use your elbows to push him off, but with the cuffs and your already existing injuries, he easily overpowered you. Also, you were too busy coughing from the smoke to even think about making a getaway.

Tumbling forward, you fell onto your hands and knees. The trooper’s gun clattered to the ground, and you used your good leg to kick it further out the way, eyes not moving from the cloud of smoke that come out of the grenade. The red and blue lights were beating down on it, casting a purple glow over the shadow of whoever had thrown it, acting as a guide as they finally emerged. With a blaster in one hand and the other curled into a fist, your best friend had never quite looked so handsome, especially under the violet illuminations.

‘Cassian!’ Despite everything, you couldn’t help but grin.

‘Duck.’ He demanded.

You did as he said, flopping back to the floor. Squeezing your eyes shut and covering your head, you stayed there for a moment. There was another blast, and then the trooper’s body fell beside yours with a dull thud!

Then, in what must have been two of most contrasting feelings ever, a warm pair of hands found yours. Cassian’s, undoubtedly. You would have known them anywhere. He pulled you up from the cold ground, warm palms finding your face as they ghosted over your cheeks.

‘It’s okay.’ His voice was soft. ‘You can open your eyes.’

You took a deep breath. ‘I know. Thank you.’

‘How badly are you hurt?’ He asked. ‘Because we need to move fast.’

‘My foot’s pretty wrangled.’ You said.

Without another word, Cassian threw an arm over your shoulders, tucking it under your arms to support you.

‘Lean against me.’ He instructed. ‘The exit isn’t too far-’

‘- what about the other troopers?’ You asked.

‘I dealt with them on my way in.’

And dealt with them, he certainly had. The men were practically laying in unconscious piles (he only ever intended to maim, but never kill), working as some kind of fucked up map out of a twisted and horrible maze. The pain in your leg only grew worst as you moved, your good leg beginning to ache from carrying all the weight. With all your attention focused ahead of you for potential enemies, you didn’t even notice how close you were to stumbling over -- not until you fell back onto the cold lino floors.

‘Hey.’ Cassian dropped beside you. ‘Look at me, okay, just...look at me.’

You glanced up, tired eyes meeting his warm, brown ones. ‘It really hurts, Cass.’

‘We’re really close now.’ He said. ‘Two more minutes. Can you do that? For me?’

‘Yeah.’ You took a deep breath and nodded. ‘I can.’

(Because really, for him, you’d do anything.)

Cassian helped you back up, pressing one of his blasters into your hand. His arm returned to hold you by the waist, gripping you a little tighter this time. Your leg was practically screaming in pain, a dull ache shooting from your ankle up to your knee. You had to remind yourself that in a few minutes, it would all be over - and not in the way you thought it was going to be over an hour ago. Over, as in this whole ordeal would simply be something to report back to your bosses at base, and not your final moments. The fact you ever let yourself accept that fate and think that Cassian wouldn’t come for you was something else entirely in itself.

You almost cried with relief when you saw his battered old ship docked outside the base. You normally cried for other reasons when you saw it - usually ones to do with the rusty old engines and creaking sound it insisted on making whenever it flew - but right then, you had never been happier to see it. Even if the insides smelt weirdly of petrol and oil, and the seats in the cockpit were made of uncomfortable cracked leather, you practically threw yourself on board.

Neither you nor Cassian said anything for a while. His attention was completely on getting away from the base and avoiding TIE fighters - something he did without ever moving his hand from your thigh - and yours was on steadying your breathing and heartbeat. It had been a rough twelve hours to say the least.

Once the ship had lurched into hyperspace, he turned in his chair to face you. He held your gaze for a moment, before opening his arms out and letting you flop from your own seat and into his chest. They tightly wrapped around you, one hand softly your head to his body and the other gently rubbing up and down your back. You had to squeeze your eyes shut to stop your tears from spilling.

‘I’m sorry.’ He murmured.

‘For what?’ You peered up at him with a frown.

‘Not finding you sooner.’ He replied. ‘Or for even letting you get caught in the first place-’

‘- Cassian, stop.’ You pulled back and tangled his hands in yours. ‘Once I get some bactaspray, I’ll be totally fine.’

‘But you almost weren’t.’ He shot back. ‘If I was just a few minutes later and you could have been a thousand times worst, or even...gone completely.’

‘That’s beside the point.’ You softly sighed. ‘It’s doesn’t matter would have beens or could have beens. I am here and I will be okay.’

‘You’re right.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I just...I want to protect you, you know? And I failed.’

‘You don’t need to protect me, Cass.’ You shook your head with a soft smile. ‘Actually, no, today I did but you pulled through.’

‘I don’t need to, but I want to.’ Cassian murmured.

He’d done a pretty good job at sitting on his feelings for the last few years. Pushed them down when he felt the urge to tell you, and ignored them entirely when they got really intense. But that had been when the threat of completely losing you was just that: a threat. A distant possibility, and one that you were both too busy living your lives to fully consider. Now, however, you’d come close. Too close. Cassian had come face-to-face with a reality where you were gone, and one where he’d never actually told you how he felt.

‘You know I love you, right?’ He quietly said.

‘Yeah, I know.’ You nodded.

‘No, I mean I love you.’

You peered up at him, realising what he was getting at. You did know. In fact, it had very much been an unspoken thing between you for a very, very long time. It was really just a matter of saying it - but that was always the hardest part, right?

‘I know.’ You repeated. ‘I love you too.’

‘You do?’

You softly laughed. ‘Of course I do.’

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and pulled you back against his chest, chin resting atop your ahead. ‘Good.’

You stayed like that for a few minutes; it was undoubtedly a deeper conversation you were going to have later on, but it felt good to have it out in the open. So good, in fact, that it momentarily made you forget the last day entirely. Instead of pondering on it, you let yourself get lost entirely in Cassian’s presence, and the feeling of his body against yours and and his arms holding you. If you could have it your way, you would have stayed like this forever. The rest of the galaxy could wait.

‘I’m sorry if you thought I was going to make in time.’ He said quietly.

‘I didn’t.’ Your voice was slightly muffled by his chest. ‘Not once.’

‘I love you.’ Cassian said it more firmly this time. It still completely felt weird to say, and even more so to see you smile and say it back.

‘I love you too.’

He dipped his head down, capturing your mouth in a soft kiss. The feeling of your lips against his was familiar and foreign all at once; it was something he’d gone over in his head a thousand times, but it was nothing like either of you had imagined. It was better. Sweeter, in the kind of way that gave you butterflies in your tummy and made you feel giddy. It was worlds away from the usual dread and bloodshed that came with being in the Rebellion.

But that was quintessentially Cassian. He was everything that the war wasn’t: sweet and constant and warm. Somebody as beautiful and as caring as him both did and didn’t belong in the Rebellion. Did, because he was a good man who wanted to fight for the right thing. Didn’t, because he constantly risked his life for the greater good and you couldn’t quite stomach that idea.

‘I’ll always come back for you.’ He lightly brushed his hand against your cheek. ‘Never doubt me.’

‘I won’t.’ You promised. ‘Not ever.’

tags: @megmeg-chan @karasong @bb8sworld @marvelinsanity @poestardust @etherealsanakin @bo-kryze @punkbach @phoenixhalliwell

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor imagine #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fanfic #star wars x reader #star wars imagines #star wars fluff #cassian andor fluff #rogue one imagines #star wars angst

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issaxcharlie · 3 years

Text

Something so right

Pairing: Alive! Luke x Fem reader

Summary: A date with the golden boy of the school reveals Y/N’s and Luke's true feelings for each other and they have no choice but to face what they feel. Who will take the first step?

(The fragments of the song are from Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift)

Luke Patterson was more impatient than usual. 7:30 pm and no sign of his best friend, the one who had never missed a Sunset Curve rehearsal in these two years that they had been playing together.

“Am I the only one worried about Y/N? She is not usually late."

Reggie slaps his forehead, a memory snapping back into his head. "I forgot to tell you she won't be here today, she said something about a date."

The guitarist feels a punch in the stomach, he tries to hide how bitter the news fell on him, but his friends know him better than that.

“A date? With who?” Alex asks, genuinely curious.

“Austin Grayson.”

“Ugh, really Y/N?” But of course it had to be the school's golden boy. Luke can't help not feeling insecure. Austin Grayson is everything Luke Patterson isn't, and that scares him. What if that's what she's really looking for in a partner? He just wouldn’t stand a chance.

“Nice, he really has to like her to invited her despite what everyone says." Bobby responds as he takes advantage of the short break to rest his hands. Reggie and Alex nodding in agreement.

“What do they say?” Luke asks, completely lost.

“Oh please, most of the school thinks you guys are dating. There isn't a day that I don't hear someone call her Patterson’s girl." Alex replies, and Luke looks even more lost.

He can somehow understand why they would think that, he always enjoys having her and feeling her close. Usually touching her hand or arm in some way, hugging her whenever he sees fit. Carrying her books in the hallways or supporting her at her basketball games, just like she accompanies them to all the band's rehearsals and performances, or how she sometimes wears to school the clothes that he 'accidentally' leaves at her home when her mom invites him to dinner. On second thought, it’s easy to understand the confusion.

You don’t know what is happening. Austin is sweet, handsome, smart, and yet you feel nothing. Forced yourself to laugh falsely all night, and couldn't help but think that it would have been more fun to join the boys in rehearsal, especially when they were only a few days away from Sunset Curve's first performance at school.

When you finally get home, you walk with your head on the floor, trying not to make eye contact with your date. Austin gently grabs your chin so you turn to see him.

A fake cough from behind causes you both to jump away from each other. You don't even have to turn to find out who owns that perfect timed cough.

“What are you doing here?” You refuse to turn around, but you know he's smirking anyway.

“It’s movie night, love.” You force one more smile towards Austin as you curse Luke under your breath, who emphasized the last word in that seductive deep voice he sometimes does when he sings and that secretly melts your legs.

“Patterson." Austin tries to get past the awkward moment by participating in the conversation, and Luke responds by approaching and placing his arm on your shoulder.

"Grayson. Thank you for bringing her safe and sound." He sounds sincere, and that makes you smile for real for the first time of the night.

“It was nothing... I should go. Goodnight Y/N, I had a great time.”

Luke lowers his arm from your shoulder and leans back, ashamed of his rare moment of insecurity and letting you say goodbye to the boy.

As soon as he leaves, you turn to see your best friend, who looks sadly at the ground, and you hug him tightly.

Luke has been through very difficult months, and it is easy for someone who is vulnerable to feel insecure, especially in situations new to them. Not to mention that you are definitely not going to fight with the person you love for putting his arm on your shoulder or calling you in an affectionate way, which are things that he usually does, guy in your doorstep or not. You decide that he showing a little jealousy for once is not the end of the world.

“I missed you so much, rockstar.” You murmur still against his chest, your statement only makes him hold you tighter. You can't help but think about how just hugging him for a few seconds makes you so much happier than the whole date you just had.

“I’m sorry for making a scene. No wonder everyone thinks we are dating.“

“I don’t mind. I couldn't wear your cool flannels or your necklaces if I was dating someone. Plus it would take away valuable time that I can use as the president of the Sunset Curve fan club.” He chuckles. You can feel his body relax and his heartbeat begins to calm down. He gives you a sweet kiss in your hair before letting you go.

Best friends walk into the house, and as Y/N goes to change into something more comfortable Luke sits at the kitchen counter to chat with his second female best friend.

"You have to do something quick, I don't want to have you here crying and eating ice cream while she's on some date with some graceless snob.”

The guitarist can't help but laugh. Y/N's mom has always been a music lover and one of his greatest inspirations. She gave him his first guitar and taught him how to play, always supporting him in each of his steps as a musician. She has always loved him like a son, believing in him with all her might and always blindly entrusting him with what she loves most in the world, her daughter Y/N.

“I know, I will I promise. What I felt today when I saw Grayson touch her face and so close to her lips... I never want to experience that again. I was thinking maybe at homecoming? Sunset Curve is going to perform.”

She wrinkles her nose in response and Luke laughs again.

"Yeah too much information, I’m sorry. And I know, but we have to start somewhere. As soon as we get booked at a good enough club you'll be the first guest.”

They both make a pinky promise and smile.

“I’ll make you proud someday. I swear.”

“I’m always proud of you, my sweet boy. I know you’ll do amazing things, just take good care of my princess during tours.”

“You know I will.” They pinky promise again and reunite with Y/N in the living room to watch movies til the teens fall asleep cuddling.

Homecoming day arrived and you don’t have a partner. It is not hard to imagine why, being surrounded by at least one of the Sunset Curve members 24/7, especially Luke who tries to be close to you as much as possible, as if he is afraid that you will forget him if you spend too much time separated. Which is actually something you like, if you are honest with yourself. Is not something you would tell him but feeling him close and having his attention devoted to you most of the time feels quite special.

The date with Austin didn’t feel right and only confirmed what you've been trying to deny yourself for months. You are in love with freakin Luke Patterson. And you are in really deep, loving the good, bad, fun, boring, charming, and annoying parts, absolutely every side of him. And now is the time to finally do something about it.

After the guys show tonight, even more girls will be raining down on them than usual and things could get really messy, it's best to make your move first. Inside your heart you know that he feels the same, and if he doesn't have the courage to act on it then you will.

The first and most important thing you need to do to get the operation going is to kidnap Reggie, Alex and Bobby.

After a little threatening session everyone sang about Luke's idea for tonight, which made you grin like an idiot and feel more confident about your plan. The surprise that he will get when he sees how you sabotaged his plan.

Convincing Luke that it was best for you to come on your own so that they would have more time to prepare was not easy, but in the end you succeeded.

He's not a suit kinda person, but you went along with him to get a dark blue one that looked unreal on him just a few weeks ago, and you knew he would find a way to wear it sleeveless so he will look even more irresistible. You opted for a black dress that fades beautifully to blue towards the bottom of the skirt and in which you really look pretty good If you can say it yourself.

Sunset Curve finishes singing the first song, Now or never. It's time for the song Luke wrote for you, but he turns to see his friends scared when he still can't find you in the crowd. They smile at him and start to play the song they practiced with you just a few hours before.

“The way you move is like a full on rainstorm, and I'm a house of cards. You're the kind of reckless that should send me running, but I kinda know that I won't get far.”

You walk onto the stage as you start the first verse, Luke is shocked for a few seconds but then grins from ear to ear.

“And you stood there in front of me just... close enough to touch.” He recovers much faster than expected and pulls you by the waist towards him, just the microphone separating you two while he looks at you with the most seductive face you’ve ever seen.

“'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile... Get me with those green eyes, baby as the lights go down.” He blushes a little and smiles while his eyes are locked on your lips, capturing every move.

After what seems like an eternity, the song ends and before you can even say thank you, Luke's lips crash against yours, and it’s even better than what you’ve dreamed plenty of times. All the people start screaming, but you especially hear Reggie and Alex a few steps away who sound pretty happy for you.

“Reggie, an issue occurred, I have to go, sing home is where my horse is if you want to.” Luke whispers to his friend, before effortlessly carrying you off the stage.

“Admit it, you just want to touch my legs.” You joke while he walks with you on his shoulder.

“I’m in love with a really smart girl.” You stay quiet, your heart wants to jump out of your chest and you don’t even want to imagine how red your face is right now.

The guitarist finally brings you down when you leave the building, and you both walk to the park next door, where you met when you were just kids.

"Do you remember exactly how we met?" He asks while taking your hand.

“Reggie and Alex teamed up to destroy you in a game they invented and I was the only one in the park, so you invited me to join your team. And when we managed to win you said that we were the best duo on the face of the earth, that we had to be best friends forever."

“I sound very intense.”

“You are.”

They both laugh at the memory.

"You were still right."

“When did you finally realize that you loved me?” Luke asks, smirking playfully.

“I've known for a long time, but I didn't dare to admit it until recently.”

He completely accepts my answer and sincerity and smiles at me.

“I always knew that we would end up together, you eat me with your eyes when I'm not wearing a shirt.”

His teasing takes effect and you blush just remembering him in that situation.

He smiles cheekily and then takes mercy on you and changes the subject.

“So, we are the best duo on the face of the earth, best friends forever, and now an official couple?”

“That’s right, handsome and smart. Nice.”

Both approach until their lips touch, the kiss begins calm but quickly becomes more passionate, his tongue claiming every inch of your mouth, his arms strong on your hips. You let this amazing sensations envelop you and you lose yourself in him, happier than you've ever been.

When you are with the right person, everything feels just right.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist:

@siennanoelle01 , @totomoshi , @kiss-themoongoodbye , @writerinlearning

#luke patterson fanfiction #luke x reader #luke patterson oneshot #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #jatp fanfiction #jatp fanfic #jatp imagine #jatp one shot

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justreadingfics · 4 years

Text

It’s a Deal (Chapter 2)

Chapter Summary: You did make a deal.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, sex deprived reader, boytoy!Bucky, mention to break ups, mention to bad sexual experiences, casual sex, opened relationship.

A/N: You guys and all the feedback you’re giving to this story are just my everything. Thank you for your patience, if you follow my stories for a while you all know I’m a slow writer and not even social distancing seems to be changing that. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. I was going to close the tag list for this series at 70, but you’ve been really amazing, so I’m extending it to 80 spots for now. All I ask of you is, if you’re tagged and liked what you read, please leave me a nice little comment. Thank you, @lesqui

Saturday mornings have always been like any other morning to you. Waking up early, making some black coffee and fixing up something quick to eat . Then checking up on your schedule for the day, which more times than you dare to count consisted of working from home and that’s it. Nothing special.

But this Saturday morning is nothing like the other ones, this morning has actually already passed since you wake up past noon, a lot later than you’re used to, take a long bath with all the pampering accessories you found in your bathroom - something you hadn’t done in a very long time- plaster your face with a moisturizing mask you’ve bought on a late night online shopping spree and has never used, wrap your body in a robe, your hair in a towel and go to the kitchen to make your usual black coffee but also a few chocolate pancakes as a treat to the atypical hunger making your stomach groan loudly.

ThisSaturday is nothing like the other ones because you have the memory, on your mind and your whole body, of three fantastic orgasms you were gifted with the night before. If it was up to you, Bucky Barnes and his sinful tongue would get all the awards in the world.

While you hum a soft tune and flip your pancakes, the night before replays like a movie on your mind, taking small giggles out of you and causing a warm rush to creep up your neck. The man sure knows his game, touching all the right places, playing with your body just perfectly, luring you into a very much needed and longed ecstasy. On top of that, he was nothing but generous and seemed to get himself off by getting you off and, now that you’re thinking about it, a man acting that way in bed is something entirely new to you.

You have to send Natasha a present, maybe that expensive vodka she’s always drinking…

The memory of your friend quickly fades and the sinful picture of Bucky Barnes’s face between your legs pops back into your mind as you drop the pancakes on a plate and sit by the counter to devour them with your coffee. What a night you had. The whole no strings attached situation makes it even more… enjoyable, you dare say, much more than you thought it would be. There is no dwelling on whether you should text him to say hello, or call him, no need to hold back who you really are or what you really want in favor to make a good impression, nor to think about meeting friends, family, no fear of disappointments from both sides… it was just plain good old sex, which you’ve realized it’s all you need and are looking for.

You hum at the sweet taste of the pancake and take a sip from your coffee. There’s no worries in your mind, no regrets, nothing like that. Except for one thought: the fact you didn’t even get to see his cock. The bulge alone grinding against you was already impressive enough to make your mouth water… Everything was amazing, more than perfect, actually, and left you completely spent and utterly satisfied, more than you’ve been in a long time, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. But now you only get to imagine how it would be if you two had gotten to the whole package, the real deal…

Unless…

You had thought about that night as a one-time occurrence, something to take your edge off and move on, but... He did propose a deal… And you did take said deal… to call him if you needed anything… You stare dreamily ahead as you take a fork filled with pancake to your mouth and flashes of the feeling of his bulge pressed against your back, grinding on your core take over your senses… it took your breath away then and just the memory is making a number on your lungs.

You sure have a need now.

Glimpsing your phone over the balcony, you reach for it, loving you don’t have to care whether it is too soon or not to do what you’re about to do…but a new message pops up on the screen as soon as you unlock it. Natasha letting you know she was sent away for a mission with Steve Rogers but should go back in a week and wanted to schedule dinner for you to tell her everything… You type her a quick answer, agreeing on dinner, before tapping on the brand new contact of your list, added by Natasha Romanoff herself.

Bucky “Soft Tongue” Barnes.

You’ll change it. Eventually…

~~~

“So… my place this time, huh?”

The smirk on Bucky’s lips is cocksure enough to make you take a long sip of the beer he offered you, while he lazily leans his elbow on the backrest of his sofa, supporting his head on his hand. You're thankful for the alcohol and for the fact that, this time, he hasn’t gone straight to business. Yes, you’ve been feeling bold and excited in having those kinds of encounters with a - hot as fuck - guy you barely knew. But this is new, and you know you must be careful and gentle to yourself, so it doesn’t blow up in your face eventually. Thankfully, Bucky seems to read the situation just fine since he’s been in cue with your rhythm from the very first moment.

“Did you have any other plans?” you ask, biting your lower lip and hoping your presence isn’t actually a bother.

“I was happy to see your text.” Even if his answer is kind of vague considering your question, it eases the tension on your shoulders at his wide and comforting smile, “We did make a deal…” His voice is a tone lower as he peeks at you from under his lashes, taking his beer to his lips.

You take in a deep breath as your gaze drops to his lips, “Yes, we did.” You gulp, as your body tightens, feeling the rise of the tension in the air, enhanced by flashes of last night when you two settled said deal.

His chuckle is a tad dark and laced with mischief and oh, man it makes your skin tingles when he drags his body just an inch closer, his beautiful blue eyes fastened on you.

“Ahm, Bucky… can I ask you something?” You try not to let your voice come out too small, as the heat of his body rolls off to yours and makes your core flutter.

“Sure.”

“How does this work?”

He frowns as his head tilts a bit sideward, “This what?”

“This… ahm,” you clear your throat, “Deal… I mean, I’m pretty interested, pretty, pretty interested.” You stress the word and your eyes widen a bit at the honesty slipping out of your lips, but you realize that’s actually how being around Bucky has made you feel, giving his own honesty behavior with you, just like now when he expresses no kind of reaction that would make you feel embarrassed or anything of that nature, so you let yourself continue, “But you must know I’ve got out of a relationship recently. It was really serious …10 years.” You chuckle when he huffs and takes a sip of his beer, “Anyway, I’m not really sure how to handle this.” You gesture between you two, “Should we establish any sort of rules, or something?” You shrug questioningly. Every single movie you saw or book you read where the characters had a deal like that they ended up establishing some rules, you’re not sure if that’s what you’re supposed to do here, but…

“Rules?” His whole face scrunches up, “Let me tell you something, sweetheart,” he lets out a long exhale, “My entire life, all I did was to follow damn rules. Even to this day, I have to follow them all the time in my job, whether is from the fucking government, the pain in my ass which is Stark or Fury and, believe me, even from the giant asshole of my best friend who’s pretty jacked up now but was nothing than a skinny angry ass, like, yesterday… Yeah, you know the punk, don’t you?” He smiles when you hold back a laugh, “It’s all about rules, rules, rules… I have to endure them when it comes to work, but I don’t like them in my personal life.”

He smiles that dazzling smile and you can’t help to offer him a small one, too. You see where he’s coming from. Given what you know of his life, he lived a very strict, military life ever since an early age in the 30’s. You don’t even have to elaborate on what happened next and everything he endured… now he’s part of the damn Avengers… Just like that, you start to get a bit more of Bucky Barnes and why he seems to live his life so lightly and freely now…

“Listen…” he continues, after taking a sip from his beer, “Let’s just have some fun… I loved spending time with you last night, I love that you’re here now and I love even more the prospects of tonight…” He smirks and you gulp down at the promise that comes with it, “I just wanna enjoy our time together, I don’t need rules to do that.” He pauses, as his face turns a bit more serious, differing from the light demeanor he’s been showing so far, “Do you wanna set any rules, though?”

You ponder his question. You did bring the subject up, because that’s what you think you should’ve done, but, now that you think about it, nothing comes to your mind. You kinda love his philosophy. No overthinking, just fun and no rules… “No, actually. I can’t think of anything,’ you decide.

“Great.” He smiles and nods, before his face turns serious again, “There’s one thing I need to clear up, though.” He stops and looks deeply into your eyes, as waiting for your consent before continuing.

“Oh, alright.” You encourage him to elaborate.

“As much as I’m looking forward to getting to know you and spending time with you, there’s absolutely no prospect of this turning into some kind of romantic relationship. See, I like the way I live my life too much and chances are I won’t be exclusive to you,” he says fixing his gaze on yours as if gauging your reaction to what his words, “What I’m saying is if I feel like it, I’ll have sex with other people and I highly encourage you to do the same if that’s something you want. The serum made me immune to any disease, but I’m obviously not against protection,” he adds and you feel your cheeks burning, it still blows you away how comfortably he talks about sex and how blatantly honest he is. You like and are getting used to it, but you’re just not there yet, “We can be friends, or not, we can just fuck our brains out, but we won’t go further than that. I need to know you’re aware and consenting on this, I need to know you’re on the same vibe as mine before we continue… having fun together.” He speaks seriously, but you see the tiny and suggestive curl on his lips when he finishes and waits for your answer.

You let out a small laugh under your breath, “I wouldn’t stress about it… I’m still in love with my boyfriend, to be honest. So, don’t worry about me wanting to turn this into something ahm… romantical.” You wave your hand between the two of you.

“Uh, ok,” He raises a brow and nods, pondering your response, “We’re cool then?” He checks again.

“We’re cool,” You nod and raise your beer.

He promptly bumps his bottle to yours as you seal your deal with a toast and a shared smile.

“So, still in love with him, huh?” He asks, absentmindedly, after you two take a sip from the beer, “Was it a bad break up?”

“Not really,” you answer, looking down at your finger circling the rim of the bottle, “I just wasn’t expecting it… I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with him… it was settled.” You shrug, “And then, nothing was certain anymore. I’m sorry,” you quickly add, shaking your head with a tight smile on your lips. The last thing you want is to talk about Eddie. And you’re pretty sure that’s not what Bucky expects from the night, either.

“Hey.” He hooks his finger under your chin, lifting it up so you look back at him, “No rules remember? We can talk, we’re not sex robots or anything.”

Your head falls back when you laugh, “Alright.” You nod as he smiles at you, “But I don’t really want to talk about my breakup, now.”

He nods back, accepting your position, “Can I ask you something?” He’s the one to talk again after you two drink from the beer, “Last night,” he continues when you give him your consent, “When I went down on you. Was that the first time?”

There he goes again, talking so freely... You don’t feel your cheeks burning this time, though.

“No,” you answer, and he lifts his eyebrows, showing a bit of surprise at the answer, “It was the second, actually…” You’re quick to add, tightening your lips, “That obvious, huh?” You laugh quietly as your shoulders drop a bit.

Bucky shrugs, “It’s just that you seemed a bit self-conscious about it…” He brings his bottle to his lips, but stops it midair, “At first…” he smirks at you once again and winks.

You let out a small chuckle, looking down, playing with the almost empty bottle in your hands, “And I was…” You turn your body to face him, folding your legs on his sofa and leaning your arm on his backrest. It might be the alcohol, or just his laid-back and comforting presence that makes you want to share it with him, “You see, I’ve dated Eddie since college and he was my first…you know?” You bit on your lower lip as he nods at you to continue, nothing changing on his expression at the information, “And what happened was that he was never really a fan of that… we tried once, years ago and that was it… I knew he was grossed out by it, so I never asked him again.”

Clearing your throat, you look away, bringing you your beer to your lips to conceal any sign of embarrassment your face might indicate, you can’t believe you just shared that with him, you know how pitiful that sounds and what a turn off that must be. You’re there to have sex and are sharing how unexperienced you are? Not cool.

You feel his eyes fixed on you, and, when your gaze is attracted to his like a magnet, the pity you thought you would see on his face just isn’t there. Instead, it’s something entirely different you catch on his expression and his eyes. Never parting his focus from you, he puts his beer on the center table and reaches for yours, placing it next to his. He drags his body closer, and his smell – no cologne, just his own manly smell with a hint of what must be a fancy shampoo- fills in your nostrils, making you breathe in deeply the inebriant scent, “You know what came to my mind while I was listening to you?”

The sultry tone in his voice is almost hypnotic as your lips part and your gaze drops to his, “What?” you murmur.

“Last night…” He licks his lips before drawing his lower one between his teeth, “Your taste…” He leans forward, brushing his lips on your earlobe, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, “Your shaky legs around my shoulders…” His flash hand finds your knee before sneaking up your thigh, carrying goosebumps on its way, “And those sinful sounds you made while I had your pussy in my mouth.” He grabs your earlobe in a gentle bite at the same time his wandering hand grabs harshly the flesh of your thigh underneath your dress, pulling a breathy whine out of you.

He drags his lips to yours and the kiss is sensual, slow moves of his tongue against yours as his lips are a soft and breathtaking caress. You realize you would be willing to spend the whole night just like that… kissing him, as your tongue laces around his and he lures you to melt into him… But he seems to have other plans in mind. You can’t help but seek his lips again as he parts them from yours.

“And this is what thinking about all of that does to me…” Boring his blue, now darker than ever, eyes on yours he grabs your hand from your lap and brings it to the bulge in his pants.

You gasp at the sensation in your hand as he guides your hand with his to brush the firm and large hardness. Everything about the situation is sexy and makes you light in your head and hot in your body: the way he moans as you move your hand, his warm breath slipping from his parted lips and fanning over yours, how his eyes flutter for just a second before fixing on yours again, his scent, his shameless words…

“Just to think about eating your pussy…the mere thought of it…. Fuck, it turns me on,” he whispers and lets go of your hand, allowing it to move on its own as he lunges at you again, kissing and nibbling your lips a lot harder than the first time

You kiss him back fiercely while keeping your hand on his cock, palming it through his jeans. You already can tell how thick he is and a fluttering sensation bubbles down your lower belly as the desire to feel his cock inside you takes over your senses and makes you weak in your legs.

“Shit, I can’t wait to do that again…” He drags his lips down your collarbone, whispering between kisses and licks on your skin, “But right now, what I want is to feel your pussy around my cock. Is that what you want, too?”

“Oh, yeah,” you promptly answer, eyelashes fluttering shut at the thought as you press your hand harder against his hardness and digs your finger on his loose locks, “I want it… I want this cock so bad.”

“Bedroom,” he announces, swiftly getting up and pulling you with him.

By the time you get to his bedroom, he already has his shirt off and you’re only in your set of black lingerie, discarded clothes and shoes left on the short way from the living room. Peppering kisses down his neck, you unbutton and unzips his jeans.

“Holy fuck.” It slips out of you in a breath when you look down and takes sight of his cock bobbing between you two as you pull his pants along with his underwear down his legs.

It’s big… and thick… and beautiful, you dare say…"Wow," it slips out of you unannounced as you keep staring down and you hear a chuckle from him, a tad too smug chuckle, because he damn well knows… of course, he does.

As he proceeds to ravish your neck, grabbing two handfuls of your ass through your underwear, you can’t help but wrap your fingers around him. You can’t take your eyes off your hand playing slowly with it, entranced by how thick and hard he is, anticipating the feeling of him inside you as you swipe your thumb over the tip...

“Stop, stop.” The rasped plea takes you out of your reverie as his forehead falls on your shoulder and his hand stops yours, “I’ll come all over your hand if you keep that up,’ he explains, laying a kiss on the crook of your neck.

You chuckle and bring your arms to circle his broad shoulders instead, peppering kisses on his stubbled jaw.

“Let’s go to bed, or this will be over too soon.” You can hear the smile on his lips as he squeezes your ass and steps out of his bunched jeans and underwear, guiding you to his bed.

Through kisses, licks, bites, and wandering hands on each other, he lays you down and positions himself hovering you after unhooking and taking off your bra with the same expertise from the night before. He focuses on your breasts, sucking each one of them with intense hunger before shifting on his knees, leaving your breasts and whole body burning for his touch.

He moves towards the nightstand and opens the drawer to get a condom. The position gives you a prime view of his fully erected cock. The little dark path turning into the well-trimmed little hairs right above it shows you how careful he is with himself and the thought of your tongue running down on it pops into your mind and sparks the electricity running down your inside. On its own will, your hand snakes down your stomach till your clothed mound.

A particularly loud sigh of you is what catches Bucky’s attention as he rips the package with his teeth. His eyes drop to where your hand rubs you covered pussy and his cock twitches at the vision.

“Shit… yeah, touch yourself….” He breathes, as he rolls off the latex around his cock.

You promptly slide your fingers under your underwear and find out how wet you are. You draw gentle circles on your clit, never taking your eyes off his burly and beautiful figure, the tightness in your core is a crescendo as you catch every little detail of his perfect body and his hooded eyes on you.

Still kneeling on the mattress, he positions himself in front of your opened legs, but just stays there, hypnotized by the spot where you touch yourself, placing his hands on your knees and spreading your legs wider for him, his pupils growing darker and darker with lust.

You sigh and moan at the pleasure brought by your fingers, but the exposed situation you are in and the sight of him staring down so hungrily at your pussy prompts the tight coils flaming inside you. Just a couple of days and you’re finding out a few things you had no idea about yourself. One of them is that you actually love that kind of filthy exposition. It feels wrong and intimate and fucking sexy.

He grips his cock, giving it a few slow strokes and it’s all a sweet torture that you can’t take anymore.

“Bucky…Please, fuck me.” Your voice comes out laced in a mix of plea and guttural groan you didn’t know you had in you.

Dark eyes flick to yours. “Oh, yeah? Do you want me to fuck you?” he teases, showing no mercy to your desperation.

“Hard…” you correct him, gritting your teeth, “I want you to fuck me hard.”

His eyes widen and his chest moves up when he sucks in a breath. You’re really that eager that you can’t control your words anymore, but you love the effect it has on him. He pulls your fingers from under the lace of your underwear and leans down to bring them to his mouth. Your lips part at the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, his eyes fluttering shut as he moans sucking the two fingers clean. Your taste seems to stir something in him and the world around you spins when big strong hands turn you over roughly.

“On your fours,” he growls. The grasp of his hands on your ass tugs at your core.

You promptly comply, getting yourself in the position he wants you in as he keeps himself behind you. You yelp when he swiftly pulls your underwear down your knees, the lace stretching around them as he spreads your legs. Looking from over your shoulder you watch him cursing under his breath and gripping the base of his impossibly hard cock and guiding it to your slit, coating his hardness with your arousal.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as the hardness brushes against your clit.

“In a second…” He smirks when his gaze crosses yours. He leans over and pushes your back down, positioning your ass in the air as you lay your head on his pillow. Bucky grabs your hand and guides it to your pussy.

He doesn’t need to say what he wants you to do as your fingers quickly start working on your clit and he aligns himself with your entrance. He pushes the tip in and it knocks the air out of your lungs as you brace yourself on his pillows with your unoccupied hand, speeding up the finger on your clit. Bucky groans as he pushes himself in, inch by inch. You’re soaking wet and he doesn’t find much resistance, but it’s been a year for you, so you’re very aware of the stretch on his way in.

“Shit,” you wheeze, loving how full you feel when he’s all his way in, both of his hands grasping your hips tightly.

“Oh, damn, you feel amazing.” He groans and you clench around him, “Oooo, someone has a praise kink, huh?” A teasing tone in his words.

Do you? You wouldn’t know… all you know is how your whole body and mind respond to having him inside you and how his sultry words make your head dizzy. It’s an aching and floating sensation all at once. You feel light and heavy and hot and eager for him to move.

Like he’s reading your mind, he starts his pace. His fat cock stretches your walls at every jerk of his hips, increasing in rhythm as it feels easier for him to slide in and out of you. It doesn’t take long before he’s pounding into you, a punishing hold on your hips to keep you steady enough to him. Being the discoverer of your weakness, he punctuates every pound with grunted words of praise, telling how good and wet you feel around his cock.

He feels good, too. He feels so damn good, his cock brushing and hitting all of the sweetest spots inside you, the sound of skin slapping against skin... Your mind is a fuzz and your head sinks into his pillow, muffling your moans as you just take it, your body moving along with his powerful thrusts. The coil that’s been twisting your lower belly getting tighter and tighter. You want to come on his cock so bad, you press your fingers hard against your sensitive numb.

“Fuck, yeah, work on that clit, I wanna feel you soaking that cock,” Bucky coos, curling an arm around your stomach and, when you notice, you’re on your knees with your back to his chest. Slick skin burns against slick skin as he drags his metal hand over yours on your pussy, guiding your finger in a different direction, making you gasp at the new sensation the subtle shift brings.

“Oh, God.” You can’t and don’t want to hold back anymore as it’s all more than you can handle and the tightness inside your belly washes over your core in sheer ecstasy. Your back arches and your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out a mindblowing orgasm.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear, slowing down his pace, “That’s it, oh fuck,” he curses at the feel of your cunt gripping his cock.

Your senses aren’t fully functioning yet when he pulls out, throws you back on the mattress and flips you over, swiftly taking off the underwear that was stretched around your knees. A delicious smile curls your lips at all the manhandling because you want more and he’s giving it to you, driving himself inside you again, lifting your legs with his forearms, resting them over his shoulders and not holding back on the almost inhuman speed as he thrusts his hips.

He leans over, captures your lips and you curl your arms around his neck as he fucks you. Hard. Just like you said you wanted him to. You had no idea you were so flexible but what a way to find out, having the hottest guy you’ve ever met balls deep -really deep - into you while his tongue curls around yours.

Parting his lips from yours he releases your legs and they promptly wrap them around his hips as he supports himself with his forearms on each side of you and arches his back and to allow him to drag his lips to ravish your breasts, which he seems pretty fond of already. You push his thrusts impossibly harder and deeper with your feet as he alternates from sucking one and the other, licking and grazing his teeth around your sensitive nipples, your vision blanking at the light pain mixed with the pleasure he’s giving to you with his mouth and his damn perfect cock inside you. He doesn't give you time to cool down from the last orgasm as your mind freezes, focusing solely on the dazzling sensations in your body.

“So fucking sexy.” The praise reverberates through your skin and it really seems to be a kink of yours as, joined with the expert roll of his hips, he brings you to another orgasm. A smaller one compared to the first, but powerful enough to make your body shake and to coax a series of moans out of you.

Bucky lets your breast go with a popping sound after a particularly hard suck and shifts back to his knees.

Still in the daze of your second orgasm, a weak sound leaves your lips through panting breathing as your hips leave the mattress when, pulling your legs straighten up together and keeping them securely against his chest with one arm, he pounds into you until an guttural grunt rolls from his lungs and his hips still. He shoves his hips into yours a couple of times, deep and powerful,, spilling his own pleasure into the condom, before letting your legs loose and pulling out. The sensitivity etches a hiss out of you before his body drops next to yours.

For a while, all that fills the room is the sound of sharp pants from both of you. In the past year, you came to think to think that maybe sex wasn’t that important to you and that maybe it wouldn’t matter if it happened or not…What a damn fool.

You do like sex. Love it, actually. And it is fucking amazing and important to you, no doubt of that, you realize while your eyes shut and you allow yourself to drown into the delicious ache that covers your muscles while aftershocks of your orgasms cause occasional spasms all over your body.

“Holy shit.” Bucky’s the first one to speak, still fighting to breathe, “That was-”

“Fucking amazing,” you complete, breathing hard, but with a blissful smile on your lips you tilt your head towards him, “Thank you, Bucky. You have no idea how much I needed this.” You add, too deep in your daze to care whether you sound pathetic or not.

He laughs loudly and the corner of his eyes crinkle with it, “My pleasure, beautiful, my pleasure.”

A few more moments pass with both of you laying there and enjoying the after state of what you just did until the mattress moves when he gets up.

You gather your strength to lift your head enough to watch him walking towards the bathroom, rolling off the condom out of his semi hard cock.

As you’re alone in his bed, that’s when an awkward feeling freezes up your chest in contrast to the heat you’ve surrendered to so far. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Do you leave? Do you stay? Can you take a shower? You could definitely use one… You know he said no rules and you agreed, but some guidance would suit you pretty well right now.

“Hey,” his voice takes you out of your own mind puzzle, “Your turn.” A soft towel is thrown at your face.

You grab it in your hands and look up at him with a glare. He’s laughing as he walks towards you, still butt naked, and your glare quickly dissipates into a playful one. “The bathroom is all yours now. There is liquid soap, shampoo and other stuff there if you need them,” he offers casually, sitting by the corner of the bed, “I’m starving, Chinese sounds good?”

You sit, too, holding the towel in your hand, “Yeah,” you frown before nodding “Sure, Chinese sounds great, actually.”

“Alrighty, then.” He taps on the mattress and gets up. You gaze falls down to his perky butt cheeks moving as he walks towards the door. He stops by the frame and looks back at you with that mischievous look of his, “Then, I’ll be ready for dessert.” He darts out that sinful tongue of his and runs it over his lips.

The brief awkward coldness you felt is replaced by a flush of a welcoming heat creeping up your body.

You smirk back at him, “Can’t wait.”

~~~

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x readere #bucky barnes smut #smut #bucky series #floof #it's a deal

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sarahjtv · 3 years

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BNHA Chapter 319 Spoiler Analysis: Found Family

Holy crap what a phenomenal chapter! This arc in general has been great, but this chapter might be one of my favorites of the arc. Not just because it focuses on Class 1-A (I’m so glad to see the kids again), but because of the growth we see in these kids in general especially Bakugo and Shoto IMO. Like, holy shit ESPECIALLY BAKUGO! I stand by my opinion that Bakugo is one of the best developed characters in the series. There’s so much I want to say about this chapter and I’ll try my best to do so if my poor injured left hand will let me 😭:

The chapter starts off with the first of 3 colored pages we’re going to get over the next few weeks to celebrate 7 YEARS OF MY HERO ACADEMIA!!! CONGRATS, HORIKOSHI-SENSEI!!! This series revived my love of anime/manga and really helped me in some really rough spots in my life. I will forever be grateful towards Horikoshi for bringing this series to life and blessing us with such an incredible story full of beautiful characters. MHA may be a little overrated, but I still think it deserves all the love it can get.

Anyway, the color page. It shows Uraraka, Iida (who has red eyes here, so IDK why the anime gives him blue eyes though I do think they work better for him personally *shrugs*), Shoto, Tokoyami, and Bakugo after basically figuring out where Deku went. Bakugo is shown tearing up his letter (which says something like “Thank you for being there, Kacchan”; there’s more but I can’t translate it 😭) and you can kinda see some bandage wrap around his arm where he was stabbed. Also, both Bakugo and Shoto still have some visible injuries on their faces and Bakugo’s hands, so they’re still recovering from the War. It’s a really pretty page in general and I can’t wait to see what the next 2 color pages are going to look like. I also kinda want Horikoshi to take a break after this too again so he doesn’t overwork himself. Maybe he’ll treat himself to the MHA: World Heroes Mission movie 🍿.

So, Shoto and Bakugo have figured out that Deku is most likely with Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist. Problem is that none of them are answering their phones. I like that Bakugo calls Best Jeanist “Pair of Denim Pants” 😂 and Shoto’s image of Endeavor is still a very angry version of his old man. Shoto’s still making amends with his father, but he’s still not THERE yet. Regardless, these kids are smart enough to know that something’s up. Especially since All Might hasn’t returned to UA either.

It’s basically confirmed by Ojiro that because classes have been suspended, our Class 1-A kids are still 1-A; they haven’t moved into their second year yet. That clears up the confusion on whether we should still refer these group of kids as 1-A still or not.

Now Bakugo’s showing how much of a genius he really is despite his personality. Bakugo figures out that the Top 3 and All Might are working together as a group based on how they all connected with each other back at Central Hospital. Also, Bakugo concludes that All Might snuck Deku’s letters under their doors while Deku started running. Ultimately, Bakugo does know more about Deku and All Might more than anyone else does. He’s been around his childhood friend and he’s admired his idol longer than most people have. Bakugo understands how bad the situation is and he’s ready to take action.

As are the other kids. You can see how determined they are and you can see Kirishima’s black roots coming in 🥺! Even Uraraka gets some shine here by bringing up the idea to trick Endeavor to come via getting help from Principle Nezu as Endeavor was a UA student. It’s really interesting to see Ochako in a more serious roll than usual, but I actually like it. I hope she’s still as bubbly as she always was at the end of the day, but she’s definitely matured and grown a lot over the corse of the series. Even the simple things like her hair show it as it’s not as floaty as it was before. I love it when Horikoshi shows small details like this. It adds to the characters and stories a lot. Also, the art in this chapter is amazing.

And now it’s Endeavor vs. Class 1-A in a much needed conversation. All the kids are wearing their school uniforms to make this as formal and serious as they can. EVEN BAKUGO IS PROPERLY WEARING HIS TIE YOU KNOW SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN!!! And, I must say, Bakugo looks damn good with a tie 😳. You can also get a decent height measurement on the kids here if you want. Ngl, sometimes I forget that Shoto’s about 2 inches taller than Bakugo. It’s definitely the hair.

Shoto’s the first to step up and he scolds the hell out of his old man. Rightfully so tbh. Endeavor shouldn’t have ignored Shoto’s calls even though I kind of understood why. Shoto reminds Endeavor of their plan to stop Dabi though thankfully that’s what’s pushing Endeavor forward so he hasn’t forgotten. Shoto calls his father “Endeavor” and gets mad at him fro leaving Deku and All Might alone. The rough translations say he called Izuku “Deku” here too btw. Endeavor has no response. I think this anger Shoto’s unleashing is very justified and has been burning inside him since Deku left UA. His best friend just up and left him and his friends with nothing but a letter to kinda explain things. Also, Shoto and the rest of 1-A (minus Bakugo) have basically been lied to for about a year. I’d want answers too if someone did that to me.

Bakugo steps in by putting a hand on Shoto’s shoulder (🥺) to calm him down a bit and to say his piece. Ultimately, he thinks what Deku is doing is right, but that the way they’re all doing it is wrong. I love Deku and All Might, but they’re sacrificial idiots. They care more about others than they probably ever will themselves. That’s how All Might lost his OFA in the first place. It’s because of that that All Might doesn’t have it in him to stop Deku from going down this path. They shouldn’t have been left alone. Someone should’ve kept a closer eye on them. I know the Top 3 were all worried about getting too close to Deku before, but really, someone should’ve been watching them closer on the sidelines.

The next page is a really cool drawing of Endeavor flinging his phone to the kids to catch. The previous panels showed Endeavor with this face that’s regretful and I think he realized something: That Bakugo is right and that the kids might be better off finding Deku than he is. So he basically gives the kids his GPS on his phone. Those are just my thoughts, but it does look like that. I don't think Endeavor’s just going to up and give up though. He’s probably going to start rethinking things though.

As Sero manages to catch Endeavor’s phone, he and the rest of the kids think about how even though they’ve only known Deku for a year, they still think of him as family and cannot let him go down this thorny path alone. They’ll carry the OFA burden with him if they have to. They can’t smile without Deku around. These kids truly have become a family over the year. It’s amazing to see. Everyone’s like a brother and sister and it’s really nice to see. I just love Found Family stories, guys 😭❤️

And really quick, I want to focus on my ❄️🔥 boy, Shoto, really quick. As he’s thinking about Deku, he mentions how shocked he still is about Deku keeping OFA from them and how Deku thought just a letter would suffice. He has this sad look on his face like he’s trying to say: “I still can’t believe my best friend hid this from me for so long. Why? Did he not trust me?” That’s just my interpretation. Still, I can’t imagine how upset Shoto must feel. I think he still cares a lot about Deku enough to go out and find him, but he’s gotta feel some sort of betrayal. More so than the other students outside of Bakugo because, again, Deku was essentially Shoto’s best and closest friend 💙😭

Endeavor is rightfully worried about letting the kids out in the state of Japan right now, but now Principle Nezu speaks up and praises the kids on growing up so well. He’s also took into account Deku's feelings about his mission which is why he agreed to the team up. Also, Deku’s still welcome back to UA whenever he wants thank god ☺️. He’s a student who has to be protected. There’s a cute panel of Uraraka and her mom crying happily after getting her acceptance letter too. Not 100% why this is shown other than Acceptance Letter part, but it’s cute to see. Maybe Ochako realizes how much Deku needs to be protected or something.

As for the refugees, Nezu had the security system strengthened in time for the Cultural Festival earlier, but they never used it before. It’s call The UA Barrier. God, how strong is this thing? Is it strong enough to stop Shigaraki who was able to Decay the last barrier? This seems like something that’ll be used in the final battle TBH.

So, Nezu trust the 1-A kids to bring Deku back home. Which is exactly what they plan to do as all 19 of them enter Kamino in a badass full page. I actually wasn’t sure if all 19 of them were there at first since I couldn’t find Shoto for the life of me, but then my eyes saw the BIG-ASS ICE WALL IN THE BACK AND I THOUGHT “OH THERE HE IS!!!” LOL 😂

The next panel actually does show Shoto with Momo as they capture the villain from the last chapter. Momo politely calls Bakugo “Bakugo-san”, but Bakugo demands that he be called his insane hero name: “GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT”! I CAN’T WITH THIS DUDE SOMETIMES WHY DO I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 💥🧡

Deku sees his friend and wonders why they came. Ochako answers because that they were worried about him, but Deku tries to convince everyone (including himself) that he’s fine. He’s obviously not and Bakugo calls TF out on him! He even drops a good F-bomb for good measure. Bakugo mocks Deku for trying to act like All Might and asks Deku if he can even smile right now. I actually really like it that Bakugo’s calling Deku out on his shit. I think Deku needs some good tough love right now to knock some sense into him. Who would be better to do that than Katsuki Bakugo himself?

As Deku is trying to convince everyone that’s he’s fine (while still looking like a demon btw), there’s a small focus on Iida. Actually, a few panels this chapter have focused on Iida. Maybe he’s remembering the time Deku saved him back when they went up against Stain. Deku saved him then so it’s now Iida’s turn to save Deku. Also, Iida hasn’t gotten much focus lately and I really like his character, so I’m glad he’s being brought back to the forefront again. Also, I like hearing Kaito-san’s voice in general so I’d be happy to hear him again (thanks for that one, Haikyuu).

The final spread shows Deku telling everyone to move away while Bakugo, Iida, and Ochako get ready to stop him. IT’S DEKU VS. CLASS 1-A!!! WE’RE ENTERING CIVIL WAR FOLKS!!! Seriously, though, this is great. I was thinking that it would be just Bakugo and a few other students finding Deku. Instead we got the whole class. And looks like that “helping hand” thing will happen later because we got a battle to fight first.

Bakugo’s become a damn fine leader and I love to see his growth every freaking time🧡! I like how Iida has his hand on Bakugo’s back to support him btw. It’s weird that Shoto’s not in this page though. He’s one of Deku’s best friends, so I would think he would be in this page along with Bakugo and his first 2 friends (Ochako and Iida). Maybe Horikoshi’s saving Shoto for a more 1-on-1 conversation with Deku. God, I hope that happens because I think along with Bakugo, Shoto deserves a good talk with Deku the most. ��

Honestly, I’m not sure who would win this battle. I’ve been going through scenarios in my head on who would win, but I can’t come to a solid answer. Class 1-A has 19 versatile Quirks under their belt and they have more energy than Deku to fight, but Deku still has 6 insanely powerful Quirks that he’s been practicing for a while. The kids could probably win if they strategize enough and use Deku’s exhaustion against him, but again, Deku has OFA and multiple other Quirks. If he could beat Lady Nagant, one of the best snipers around, he might be able to beat the 1-A kids. He could just escape with Smoakscreen, Black Whip, and Float if he wants to really. That would put 1-A on another wild goose chase. There’s also Deku’s Danger Sense which will be a pain to deal with. Also, Deku said that he’s as strong as All Might was in his prime with Fa-Jin and OFA combined. Only AFO and Shigaraki were strong enough to take on THAT. Plus, we still don’t know what the 2nd OFA Holder’s Quirk is yet. Deku might use it in this battle. God, I have so many theories in my head now. I think this battle will be awesome, but ultimately, I want Deku to come home 😭💚

Me reading and loving My Hero Academia:

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anxious-logic · 4 years

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The Sides of a Haunting

Inspired by that one post on here that’s like “what if Nico thinks Thomas is haunted but it’s actually just the sides”

I ended up changing it a little bit from the post because I liked my version better

Warnings: Ghost mention, haunting mention, Virgil swears a little, Janus and Remus aren’t unsympathetic but they’re not really sympathetic either, they’re just hanging out

Word count: 2832 (this is what happens when I don’t set arbitrary deadlines for myself)

Summary: Nico’s pretty sure Thomas is haunted. Weird things keep happening around him - things that can’t be explained in this realm of existence. But does Nico really want to deal with another existential crisis?

Something was going on with Thomas.

The first time Nico had come over to Thomas’s house, he’d noticed a few weird things; Thomas kept whispering to himself (what Nico could hear sounded like one side of a conversation) and he would look at something, blink, and then it’d move. Originally, he’d just put it down to nervousness; both of them were tense at the situation, so his mind must have been playing tricks on him.

But then as they had gotten to know each other better and spending more time together, he’d noticed more… weird things.

He’d see some items float in front of him for a minute, before Thomas would hiss something, and then the floating thing would either drop suddenly or vanish altogether. Nico would knock on Thomas’s bathroom door because he’d been in there for a long time, and he would hear Thomas shushing somebody.

Then there would be the times when Thomas’s hair or clothes would move, when they were inside without any significant air flow. His hair would ruffle itself, sometimes, or his shirt would straighten. Sometimes his collar would turn the right way out, or his pants would even out.

Even weirder, he’d occasionally see something out of the corner of his eye. A flash of purple, usually, although sometimes it was red. Once he’d seen light blue, and then yellow right after that.

And then there were the reflections.

He’d be walking with Thomas outside, and he’d notice their reflection in one of the windows of the shops. Except it wasn’t just him and Thomas – there were other people, too, who looked almost identical to Thomas except for very small differences. But then he’d look again, and they’d disappear. It happened in mirrors, windows, he even could have sworn he saw something in his phone camera once.

And then!

There were six people that Thomas kept mentioning – Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan, Janus, and Remus. He barely mentioned Janus, and Remus even less than that, but he’d say something about how “Patton said” this, and “Logan would say” that, and “Virgil would love” something that Nico had said, and “Roman thinks” Disney is the ultimate franchise.

The thing was… he mentioned them almost more than he mentioned some of his other friends, and Nico had never met them. Thomas hadn’t mentioned anything about them living far away; there had been no FaceTimes that Nico was aware of; and yet, Thomas would bring up something that one of them had said “yesterday” or “last week” or even “earlier today”.

So, yeah, something was going on.

If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Thomas was… haunted, maybe. Except that Thomas seemed to be very familiar with these… ghosts, for lack of a better term; from what Nico could figure, when Thomas was in the bathroom, he was talking to them. He didn’t sound scared (at least not most of the time).

So yeah, Nico was confused. And he wasn’t sure if he… wanted to bring this up with Thomas. It would be nice, sure, to know what was going on with him, but he didn’t want to deal with an existential crisis if the explanation was something… otherworldly.

Sue him, he’d had an existential crisis when he figured out he was gay. One was enough to tide him over until he was at least fifty.

Nico rocked back and forth on his feet as he waited for Thomas to open the door. They were going to hang out for a bit today – Nico had suggested going on a picnic, but Thomas said he wasn’t sure if he was up for a more formal outing, so they might just be staying in and watching movies together.

Suddenly, he heard voices from inside. He perked up, absentmindedly checking that his hair and clothes were in order.

“We’re going to scare him away,” Nico heard, muffled through the door. The voice was deep and forceful.

“No we won’t, kiddo!” another voice said. This one was lighter, more bubbly.

“We can’t continue leading him on,” a loud voice added. Well, louder than the rest of them.

“Falsehood.”

Nico was surprised by how close this voice was. He stepped back from where his ear was pressed up to the door, whirling his arms to try to avoid falling down the steps.

It didn’t work.

The voices inside the house went silent as Nico crashed down the steps, rattling the railing on the steps and groaning as he hit the bottom. There was a second when everything went quiet, and then someone opened the door.

Even though he looked identical to Thomas, something about him just felt… different. He was wearing glasses, for one thing, which Nico had never seen before. He was wearing a black polo shirt, and a blue necktie (which… well, Nico was pretty sure Thomas would only put on a necktie if there was a reason, and a date with him was not something that would fall under that category).

“Are you injured?” the stranger asked. Nico blinked as his brain short-circuited as another person appeared behind the stranger. This one was also identical to Thomas and also wearing glasses, but had on a light blue polo and a gray cardigan tied around his shoulders.

“Oh, kiddo, are you okay? Is anything broken?”

Nico shook his head slowly, propping himself up on his forearms. “…Nothing’s broken, no.”

The man in the tie nodded. “Optimal. Thomas?”

Then Thomas pushed past the two men in the doorway, his face panicked. He ran down the front steps, crouching in front of Nico.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” he asked, his hands fluttering over Nico.

“I’m fine,” Nico said. He could feel a soft smile spreading across his face – they’d been dating for three whole months, and he still couldn’t help turning into a smitten preteen around Thomas.

“Here,” Thomas said, offering a hand to help Nico up. Nico took it, lacing his fingers with Thomas’s when they stood up.

He was interrupted by a squealing noise coming from the doorway. Another man was standing there, this time without glasses. He was wearing a white jacket with gold braiding, with a red sash laying diagonally across his chest. He was the source of the noise, and was bouncing up and down and flapping his hands.

Thomas’s eyes widened, and he gave panicked glances to Nico and the men in the doorway. “Um,” he said. His breathing increased.

“Fuck,” came from the doorway. Nico looked up to see a man in an oversized hoodie and black eyeshadow under his eyes breathing quickly, his hands shaking.

Sweater turned around to face Eyeshadow. “Oh, c’mon kiddo, it’ll be okay,” he said. “Let’s all go inside, and get this figured out, okay?” He hustled Tie, Sash, and Eyeshadow inside. “We’ll be inside when you’re ready, okay Thomas?” he called behind him.

“…Okay,” Thomas said, his voice quiet. He was staring at the sidewalk, his free hand fidgeting with the material of his pants.

“You wanna introduce me to those people?” Nico asked, squeezing Thomas’s hand. He tried to make the question not too accusatory or nosey – just… an opening, if Thomas wanted.

Thomas blew out a breath, nodding to himself once. “Sure,” he said. He seemed to be steeling himself, or planning something.

He walked Nico up the steps, opening the door for him. Nico stepped in, putting his bag down next to the door. As he turned around, he was surprised to see the four people standing in Thomas’s living room.

Tie was standing just a few feet away from where Nico was right now, his hands clasped behind him. Sweater was standing in front of the back window, his hands on his hips. Sash was in front of the TV, his arms crossed and a pouty look on his face. Nico could barely see another person – Eyeshadow, maybe? – sitting on the stairs, sprawled out.

Thomas gently tugged Nico to the couch, where they sat down. The other four men looked at Thomas attentively.

“How would you like to approach this, Thomas?” Tie asked expectantly. Sash rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“Just- let me handle it, for now,” Thomas said, taking a shaky breath. He closed his eyes, then shifted to face Nico, holding both of his hands.

“So… Nico…” he started, his voice hesitant. Nico nodded encouragingly. “So, this is kinda weird. But… this is Patton,” Sweater waved, “Roman,” Sash bowed to Nico, “Virgil,” Eyeshadow gave a two-fingered salute, “and Logan,” Tie gave a polite nod. “They’re… aspects of my personality. That I can manifest. Into people. That can affect the real world.”

Nico blinked, thinking about it. He looked up at the other four people. Sweater – Patton – had a… hopeful look on his face. Roman looked like he was preparing for ultimate failure, and Virgil had a look in his eyes like he was ready to run. Logan was simply staring at Nico, his face impassive.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Aspects of your personality – who’s what, then?”

All of the others immediately brightened – although Nico noticed that Logan seemed to tamp down his excitement quickly, returning to a neutral expression.

“I’m Thomas’s Morality!” Patton exclaimed happily. “I help him figure out what’s right and wrong, I tell dad jokes, and I try to keep the spirits up!”

“I’m his Creativity,” Roman said, then paused. A strange expression crossed his face, before he shook his head quickly and continued. “I help Thomas think of video ideas and help him with his parts in acting productions. I’m also a… manifestation of the ego, and am a part of his romantic feelings-”

“I’m his Anxiety,” Virgil interrupted. “’Nuff said.”

Logan adjusted his tie. “I am a manifestation of his Logic,” he said. “I am in possession of a majority of his knowledge, as well as the one in charge of monitoring his diet, water intake, and sleep schedule.”

Nico nodded at the introductions, mentally taking notes on all of them. Then he remembered.

“Oh – I remember, you talked about… Janus? And Remus? Are they… the same thing? Or, um. Types of people? I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s offensive.”

Thomas gave a little smile, then sighed. “Uh… yeah. I don’t… really… talk to them as much as these four, but yeah.”

“Would you like to meet them?” Logan asked.

“Why?!” Roman exclaimed. “It doesn’t- If Thomas doesn’t talk to them much, then why should Nico meet them…?” He trailed off as Logan raised his eyebrows at him.

“They are parts of Thomas, and Nico wants to know Thomas better. Is that correct?” Logan turned to Nico for confirmation.

“Yeah, I’d say that,” Nico said slowly.

“Perfect. Therefore, it makes the most sense that Nico meets Janus and Remus now, rather than putting it off.”

Thomas bit his lip. “Okay, I think- I think I’m going to say that Janus is my Deceit, he’s in charge of… basically, when I lie and what I do to lie? And Remus is… the other side of Creativity. He has… the thoughts I don’t like to think about. And the creative things that I just… generally don’t like.”

Nico nodded, squeezing Thomas’s hand sympathetically. “Okay,” he said. “I mean- you don’t have to introduce me, if you don’t want, but I’d love to if you’re open to it.”

Thomas took a deep breath, and nodded. He gestured with his hand twice, once towards Roman and once towards Logan. A person suddenly appeared next to each of them. Roman’s neighbor was dressed in a sparkly black shirt with a green sash – almost the exact opposite of Roman’s outfit. Logan’s was dressed in a dramatic overcoat and a half-cape, with yellow gloves and a hat.

“This is Remus,” Thomas introduced, wincing as he gestured at Roman’s partner, “and this is Janus.” He gestured at the dramatic-looking man next to Logan.

“Hello,” Janus said smoothly. “It is… wonderful to meet Thomas’s new… infatuation.”

Nico frowned a little bit, but Roman jumped in before he could think about that sentence too hard. “He is not an infatuation! He is Thomas’s wonderful, incredible, talented boyfriend, and we-”

Roman cut himself off, looking at Thomas. They were both blushing immensely.

“We care for him very much,” he concluded, looking down and away from everyone else. It seemed like there was more that he wanted to say, but he didn’t continue.

“I certainly care for him one way…” Remus put in, wiggling his eyebrows and shimmying his shoulders. Nico saw Virgil wince, and Roman gave Remus an offended look.

“As much fun as this was, Thomas, Remus and I have… things to go back to,” Janus said suddenly. He sunk into the floor to disappear, allowing Logan to step back into his place.

“I’ll see you later tonight, Thomas!” Remus giggled, wiggling his fingers at Thomas before sinking down as well.

Thomas winced. “Well, that was… an experience,” he said. He looked up nervously to meet Nico’s eyes. “Are you… okay…? With this?”

Nico nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I can’t say I… completely understand it, yet. But I’m not going to… break up with you, or something, over this.”

Virgil let out a deep breath from his spot on the stairs, surprising Nico a little bit. “Okay, now that that’s been determined, I’m going to go back to my room. Bye.” He sunk through the stairs and disappeared, leaving Nico blinking at the place he had been sitting.

“Sorry about that, kiddo,” Patton said, drawing Nico’s attention. “He’s a little… high-strung, sometimes – not that that’s a bad thing! – so he needs some… relaxing time, sometimes.”

Nico gave Patton a tiny smile. “I understand,” he said.

“I am going to check up on Virgil,” Logan announced. “Thomas, I hope this has helped your inner dilemma. Roman, I will talk to you in,” he checked his watch, “three hours and twenty-seven minutes.”

He sunk out as well, leaving Nico and Thomas with only Roman and Patton.

“I… very much enjoyed the chance to meet you,” Roman said, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I am going to prepare for my meeting with Logan now.”

“Bye,” Nico said, giving Roman a tiny wave.

“Sounds good,” Thomas said, giving Roman a smile.

Roman went away as the others had, his hands positioned dramatically.

“It was really nice to meet you in person, kiddo,” Patton said, looking towards Nico. “I liked seeing you hang out with Thomas when I was invisible, but it’s not quite the same, is it? Anyway, I’m going to leave you two alone, and let you talk for a little bit. See you later!”

Nico blinked rapidly as Patton sunk down, processing what he said.

“Wait,” he said, meeting Thomas’s eyes. “Were they- following us? On our dates?”

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck (just like Roman had, Nico noticed). “Um… yeah, I don’t… I don’t know what to say. They like to come out and see things in their body instead of just… in my head, I guess?” He laughed uncomfortably. “They’d… follow behind, sometimes. Give me… advice, on what to do.”

Nico leaned forward, intrigued. “Did you… follow it?”

Thomas tilted his head back and forth. “That… depends on the situation and who was out. Roman? Usually not. Logan? Usually yes, unless it was… very directly asking you to copulate with me, in which case I didn’t.”

Nico let out an embarrassingly high-pitched giggle. “Copulate?”

“Uhhh… yeah. He’s not the best with social interaction, but I love him anyway.”

Nico smiled, squeezing Thomas’s hands. They sat in silence for a few moments, before Nico had a realization.

“You’re not haunted!”

Thomas looked at him like he had grown two extra heads, a spare foot, and half an arm. “What?”

“Well, I kept seeing things in mirrors and reflections. And then there were floating things that just… disappeared, or things that moved by themselves. Or sometimes I’d hear you shushing people or talking to someone in the bathroom, or your hair and clothes would move when there wasn’t a breeze.”

Thomas’s eyes widened, before he threw his head back to laugh. “Oh, that’s hilarious,” he said. “I never thought about that, gosh!”

Nico found himself unable to stop the grin spreading across his face at Thomas’s laugh.

“Really, though,” Thomas said once he had calmed down a little. “Thank you for… being so okay with the whole thing.”

“Of course,” Nico said, leaning forward just a little to get his point across. “I don’t care.”

“It’s just- I’ve thought through a lot of different scenarios, and none of them turn out very well, and it was… honestly really nice to have someone respond positively to the sides.”

“Sides?”

“Oh, it’s – it’s what we call them. They’re sides of my personality. Sanders Sides?”

Nico gave a little giggle. “That’s clever,” he said.

Thomas perked up, with a tiny, hopeful smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nico squeezed his hand. “I like that.”

#ts spoilers #ts fanfic #ts thomas #ts nico #karrot kings #ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #i can write sometimes

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hoedorokishoto · 3 years

Text

Trust - Part 3

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

+ Minors DNI

previous | part | next

"So what, they were just arguing outside the dorm?" Toshi asked, stretched out on the couch in my workshop, manspreading as he rubbed the back of his neck. One of his long legs not quite fitting on the small red couch, hanging over edge.

"Yeah...I mean, I don't think it was too serious but there was definitely yelling." I stated, flicking my protective goggles down over my eyes and welding new panels on some of Bakugo's equipment, keeping the lines clean and crisp. Not wanting to feel or hear the wrath of Katsuki Bakugo if something was out of place.

"And you were in the bushes?" He asked, quirking his eyebrow, laughing at me as he laid down further on the couch.

"Not in a creepy way! In a what the fuck, dodge and evade kinda way." I said, my voice becoming higher as I defended myself. I had to admit, the situation last night would have sounded suspicious if I had told anyone else. A half-black 18-year-old, hiding in the bushes listening to a conversation between two rich popular people in the middle of the night. Yeah very sus indeed. But I knew that my story was safe with Hitoshi, hoping that he might even have some insider 3A knowledge.

"Well, nothing too exciting happened after they left. Yaomomo walked in head held high, made some tea and went to bed." He said, yawning and placing his arm over his eyes. He didn't mention Todoroki. Did he not go back inside? Where did he find himself last night? I didn't dwell any longer in the bushes to find out, almost regretting that decision now.

"So no gossip? I'm disappointed." I said shrugging, faking disappointment. He laughed behind me, his arm still shielding his eyes as he shifted and got comfortable, preparing to nap as I worked into the late afternoon no doubt. Mr Aizawa having to cancel their private training for 'Pro Hero Reasons'.

I never cared much for the drama of UA students, hero course or otherwise, but recently a two-toned boy had piqued my interest. The situation last night not helping me want to mind my own business. Usually everyone was too busy or too tired for drama, a fact that I had come to love since being at UA. Gone were the days of schoolyard bullying and the gossip about who was hooking up with who.

"What's going on in that brilliant brain of yours?" Hitoshi asked, his arm still over his eyes, not once had he even looked up.

"I can feel the neurons firing in your brain from here." He said before I could answer. It was times likes these that I hated he knew me so well.

What was going on in my brain? It felt like for the first time in 18 years I didn't know exactly what I wanted or how I would go about getting it. Shoto Todoroki's name had really thrown a spanner in the works from the moment it was listed next to mine.

"He is quite interesting... that's all I'll say about it." I said in Hitoshi's direction, looking back down, welding the remaining panels together.

"What? You have a thing for Todoroki now? Well get in line behind the rest of the school." He said laughing.

"I don't have a thing! I just find him interesting. Is that a crime?"

I put my equipment away and stood back admiring the finished product, hand on my hip and once again covered in grease. The thick black layer of grime almost a permanent feature of my skin since 1st year. Most of my clothes stained and musty. Smelling like the workshop and a truck had a baby.

"Speaking of interesting... Shishida said he knew you were there last night. I saw him talking to Kaibara about it this morning before class, looking all flustered." Toshi said, finally getting up and coming to stand beside me with one hand in his pocket and the other atop my head.

"I forget that his quirk lets him hear and smell everything. It's a little unsettling." I stated, a shiver going up my spine. I did forget about Shishida and his beast quirk, how he probably heard the whole thing and everything that was said and done last night in Sen's dorm room. Since mine and Hitoshi's most recent conversation about Sen, I have been feeling worse. Wishing that I could like him more or at least have the decency to cut him off. As much as I hated the thought of a relationship the thought of being alone forever with no one sounded even worse, as selfish as it sounded. I was using Sen to feel something, something that I knew would never grow and we would never be more than this.

"Am I a terrible person?" I asked, out of the blue. Shocking even Hitoshi as his eyes went wide.

"Of course not, why would you ask that?"

"I can feel it, I feel how much he likes me and wants me to stay but I just can't. I worry that I won't ever like anyone like that." I said sadly, dropping my head and removing the helmet, rubbing my cheek with the back of my hand.

"Hey! Boys and girls may come and go but you and me are forever. Don't ever forget that. I've seen your heart and I know how big it is and I know exactly who you are." He said, putting his long finger under my chin and lifting my head, a small smile on his handsome face.

"I don't know what will happen in the future. But regardless I'll always be on your side."

The next few days continued on like any other, morning classes then UA class followed by after school and extra curricular activities. The last bell of the day rang out, dismissing students and teachers who were eager to get back to the dorms to start enjoying their one day weekend. Sunday being the only day off for all students.

"So... What are you wearing? I'm thinking that red dress where your boobs look absolutely amazing." Mei said as she linked our arms as we left out respective workshops and matched step as we left the main UA building.

"Hmm maybe, I mean they are one of my best assets." I agreed, replying to Hitoshi's text message about what time we should head over.

"I'm excited. Iida has been freaking out all week trying to mentally prepare for tonight, I can already picture him running around offering people water or something lame like that." She giggled, her face lighting up as she talked about Iida.

Mei and Tenya weren't official but to all of us they might as well have been. They even spent last Christmas together, sharing their first kiss in the snow. I think Iida was hesitant after what happened to his brother, not wanting anything terrible to happen to the people he loved most because of his career path. A noble man through and through.

Ding.

Sen- Hey, are you coming to the party tonight?

I hadn't seen Sen since the last time we had sex and I left without an explanation, saying that I would text him. Which I had not done.

I had been thinking about everything recently, liking Sen enough to not want to hurt him but not liking him enough to want to be his girlfriend. We were both already in too deep, whatever I said now even if it was letting him down easy was going to be harsh. That's what happens when you are a selfish piece of shit who just wants to get dicked down. I sighed heavily and looked down, rubbing my temples. Over having to think about this whole situation, and just wanting to crawl into bed and never come out.

"Whoa whoa whoa, what is this? I don't like it." Mei said, waving her hand up and down, gesturing to my whole body.

"Why aren't you excited! We always get excited for parties." She stated, linking our arms once more and walking us down the halls.

"I'm excited. Who said I wasn't excited."

"Oh just your face, your body language and your whole aura."

She was probably right, the introvert in me wanted nothing more than to stay home and avoid any and all confrontation about the situation that I had caused. I didn't answer her as we continued to walk, making our way to the huge doors and pushing them open. Coming face to face with Sen, Shishida and Tetsu Tetsu. All of them turning and looking directly at us as we walked out.

"Hey guys! Wanna walk together?" Tetsu asked, his usual cheerful self on full display. His sunshine personality and aloofness clearly missing the weird tension between me and Sen.

"Um..." Sen started, blushing slightly and looking in my direction, his eyes looking sad as they took me in.

"We would love to! 3 future pro heroes as our personal chaperons? How did we get so lucky?" Mei answers, her voice getting higher as she looked between me and Sen, picking up whatever energy we were giving off.

We went the long way, the plan was to drop us off at our dorm then the 3 boys continue onto theirs. The conversation flowed naturally as we all talked about the party tonight and offers which we had gotten for work studies and internships.

"Hatsume I really loved the gear you made me! You guys are so cool, I wish I was half as smart as you. Mr Vlad might actually pass me then." Testu Testsu confessed, smiling and showing off his sharp teeth to us. The rest of the group continued to make small talk as we walked, me and Sen lagging behind the group, not walking together but close enough that I could hear his breathing. Fast and almost panicked, cleary working himself up.

"Y/N. Can I talk to you for a sec?" Sen asked quietly behind me so only I could hear. I stilled, scared that if I turned around, my heart and head would be even more confused. As if that was possible.

"You guys can go on without us." I said to the others, smiling at them as they waved us off.

"I'm s."

"I just."

We both said at the same time, both of us stepping forward towards each other. A blush making it's way up Sen's cheeks. He was incredibly cute. The type of cute that if you bought him home your parents would approve. The type of cute that was safe.

"You know that I like you, I don't try to hide it Y/N" He stated confidently, his darks eyes staring into mine.

"I love being with you, not just physically. I want to be someone you can rely on. Be there for you whenever you need. Why won't you give me a chance?" He said louder this time. My heart hammering in my chest. Not at his sudden confess but because I was scared of my answer, scared of being labeled the bad guy and rightfully so.

"Please, come with me to the party as my date and just give me a chance. There has to be something there or else we wouldn't have made it this far."

That's where he was wrong. People could sleep with people and not want to date them. People could promise each other the world and leave them the very next day. I knew that I could have sex with Sen a million times and even then, it would only be sex. He would only ever be cute, and if things ever went any further he would only break my heart or me his.

Despite this, as I looked at his eyes and his tall frame looming over me I answered with the complete contradiction.

"Yes, meet me outside my dorm at 7?"

#shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #sen kaibara #mha x reader #bnha fanfiction #todoroki x reader #shoto smut

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vampiremansionpoolboy-moved · 3 years

Text

renga week day 1: date

(this takes place in between episodes 10 and 11)

the morning after reki has the cindereki dream he realizes he feelings for langa

he panics at first because what if langa doesn’t like him like that but then he thinks back to their conversation from the night before and he’s not so sure it’s one sided

but he has no idea how to act of this and is almost late for school because he’s thinking about it so much

when he skates to school he sees langa at their meeting spot scrolling on his phone

reki apologizes for being late and tries to ignore the feelings langa’s smile stir in his chest

so as they’re skating to school reki is stuck in his head about what to do (“what do they do in movies when people like each other? what happens if i mess up? what happens if langa only see me as a friend?”) he tries to ignore the thoughts like these

he thinks back to his dream (did he actually marry langa?- does that mean he wants to in real life?-feelings are so confusing) and he’s not sure if he can’t just skate with langa as a way to court him seeing as they skate every day

he almost skates off the street when he remembers dates are a thing

so he compiled all his knowledge of romantic dates into a little folder in his head (sue him if most of the knowledge comes from his sisters’ books and shows)

reki doesn’t notice but langa keeps sending him concerned looks when reki only mumbles half responses to langa’s questions

reki isn’t his normal bright and bubbly self but he’s not like he was before their fight so langa hopes everything is ok

when they finally get to school reki has a semi stable idea of what he’s going to do

step 1: confront langa

step 2: ask langa to dinner

step 3: if langa says yes plan time together (if he says no skate into the sun)

it doesn’t seem to hard but every time he tries to talk to langa someone interrupts or langa takes it the wrong way then starts complementing reki thinking that’s reki is about to take down on himself

so finally when lunch rolls around reki tells himself, as he stands before the door to the roof, ‘you either ask him now or never’

and so reki steels himself and steps onto the roof only to find langa is not their yet (reki’s not sure whether to be disappointed or relived)

and so when langa comes up to their spot later than normal (he had to ask his teacher about something on the homework) he finds reki pacing, his bento left forgotten on the ground

langa tries to make small talk (school, skateboarding, S, anything to make reki talk to him) but gives up after reki doesn’t respond to langa waving a hand in his face

so langa goes back to sadly picking at his lunch and dosent expect reki to say anything (he’s stuck in his own head it ok) but the last thing langa expects reki to say is “go out with me”

langa stares at him

“like on a date” he blurts, face burning

“like- like romantically?”

“no platonically” reki snarks, joking to lessen his nerves

langa face falls instantly

“no wait no i was just joking! yes romantically...if you want to.” langa doesn’t say anything so reki continues “i like you langa, i’m not sure how long, but i just realized and i hoped you felt the same way.”

langa stays silent for a few more seconds before letting out a breathless “yes” and beginning to laugh

reki stares confused as langa continues to laugh

“wha-what’s wrong? what’s so funny? do i have something on my face??”

“well it’s just- i kinda thought we were already dating?”

now it’s reki’s turn to stare

“you what?”

“well im not sure how courting works in japan and you were so much nicer to me than everybody else, you taught me to skate, you built my board, you patched me up when i fell. i just thought that you showed your affection through skating or something.”

“i was just being nice to you!”

“well reki, i’m sorry for reading the situation wrong. but i like you too, so yes i would like to go out with you.”

and so they plan to meet up at one of the nicer restaurants in the area (not joe’s restaurant though, that would be to embarrassing. it’d be like bring your father on a date. or more accurately going on a date at your father figure’s place of work)

opting for more traditional fancy clothing, reki panics while trying to think of what clothes he hasn’t ruined during skating

but for the rest of the day, everyone seems to think langa is showing being very bright and not his emotionless self, while reki seems to but about 100x more happy then normal, smiling for the rest of the day, and practically blind anyone in a ten foot radius whenever langa is in the room

skating together to their meeting spot under the street light reki suddenly feels embarrassed. how do you say goodbye to someone after you admitted feeling and plan to go on a date later?

but apparently that awkwardness didn’t effect langa, who simply held up his hand in a wave, saying goodbye before skating to his apartment, as per usual

getting ready is a whole different mental battle thought

after finding something nice looking, nice smelling, and that fit reki had been home for two hours. they planned to meet up at 6:00 and it was already 4:30

when reki walked into the bathroom he realized he had forgotten he had hair. and so began another panic session where he tried to figure out what to do with his hair. should he keep the headband? should he gel it? should he just run a comb through it? should he just shave it all off?

and so finally reki stood looking himself in the mirror at ten till six, semi satisfied with his final product. he had found a nice unripped pair of jeans, which he paired with a black button up (which it may have had a small hole but hey it was a very small hole), his nicest sneakers, and he decided to forgo the headband, instead just combing his hair back. but as he opens his door he hears his mom and youngest sisters in the living room and knows he won’t be able to sneak past without them asking questions. so just as he’s about to close his door he sees koyomi, and they make eye contact. she notes his nice clothes and mouths ‘what?’ he holds a finger to his lips and hopes his eyes scream ‘please’ before silently shutting his door

he sneaks out the window and skates to their meeting spot

langa is already there and reki almost falls off his skateboard

he’s not wearing anything much different than normal (black slacks, a button up, plus an old red jacket over top) but his hair is pulled back from his eyes and reki swears they were never that blue

reki, again, is overcome with embarrassment (does he still go to do their dap? should he have brought flowers? should he-?)

but langa apparently knows what to do again. he holds his hand out for a dap, but after they finish he doesn’t let go “is this ok?” langa asks squeezing their joined hands. reki nods, unable to speak

then langa holds out his free hand “i know they’re not real flowers but i wanted to give it to you,” in his fist is a flower sticker “i’ve been studying how to make skateboard stickers, because i know you’re like them a lot and i wanted to make something for you after your made my board for me, so here you go.”

reki takes the flowers with a shaking hand, he looks up a langa, who looks a little nervous, “i love it,”

and in that moment reki realizes that their love language is skateboarding. that they’ve shown their love to each other through skating. and when words are not needed or cannot be found all they need to do is skate

and so reki slips the flower sticker into his pocket and says to langa “how about we ditch that fancy restaurant, it’s not really our style. wanna skate?”

langa’s bright smile is a sure enough answer

#rengaweek2021 #renga #here’s my addition to renga week #hope u enjoy

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milasartblog · 2 years

Text

Halloween party (part 6)

A tall black and blue haired woman approach him, every her step felt tensed, like a parent goes to their child to have a serious talk. Lucifer knew what is going to happen: another lecture from a queen of Hell. He sighed deeply and heavily.

Lucifer: I guess you saw everything.

Lilith: Didn’t the previous lesson teach you anything? About how humans can be fragile? That every action has its consequences?

Lucifer: Don’t remind me about it again, it was long time ago, plus things could end way too badly with Her minions. Also, how is it connected with this prank? And how did you find out about it?

Lilith: It IS connected. By your rush actions. How did I find out about it? Simple: I noticed that you weren't in your place, so I asked Tereza where you went, and she said that you were planning "to do something fun". I had different ideas in my mind, but I didn't expect that things will go down like this. So I came to mortal realm and found you with the rest of the mortals, who were scared and injured.

She walked closer to Lucifer, preparing her hand for slap, but noticed that someone did this job for her.

Lilith: Guess i don't have to do what I usually do, someone did this for me. So how was the prank? Did you enjoy putting others in danger, moreover your students?

She crossed her arms, as Lucifer bite his lip, thinking to tell Tereza not to be talkative next time.

Lucifer: Look, I know what you're thinking, but hurting them was NOT in my plan, nor putting them in danger, just scarying them. No one died in the end, I even helped them to get to the nurse room in school.

Lilith: But they will now be afraid of any sound or rush movement.

Lucifer: C’mon, Lilith, this is Halloween, mortals always like to scare themselves. Like watching horror movies. This is one of the times when demons can actually have fun and be themselves.

Lilith: It still doesn’t mean that you should go far with such pranks! Do you still enjoy using others as playthings?

Lucifer: Hey, I do like to see mortal’s reactions in different situations, but this is not like it was in old days. You know that I’ve changed recently.

Lilith: And yet, prank methods are kinda same.

The king looked at his queen for a couple of seconds before fixing his gaze down in a thought. Lilith tried to stay cool from such situation as they both sighed.

Lucifer: Okay, I admit that I went too far with this prank, I didn’t consider all possible outcomes from my actions. All for the sake of having fun.

Lilith: I’m glad that you admit it. Tho I must say that I didn’t expect you to accompany them to the school, to the nurse room. Before you would’ve run away form responsibilities.

Lucifer: Like I said, I’m not that reckless than before. I could honestly modify their memories of this evening, like I usually do...

The queen was ready to tell him not to do it, but his next reply surprised her a bit.

Lucifer:... but i would cheat on the consequences and i would go back to my old days. Am I right?

Lilith: Yeah... yes exactly, you would cheat on them instead of facing them like every living being should do.

Lucifer; See? I can learn things sometimes.

Lilith. True true.

They were silent for a moment. The conversation surely started not so well, but was it their fault? They just want things to be settled down peacefully for everyone. Lucifer looked at Lilith again with a thought that came to his mind.

Lucifer: You sure have changed a lot.

Lilith: Is that so?

Lucifer: I mean, you’re still queen of Hell and act like a demon, but...you became more careful and responsible, something that even I accomplished with some effort and thanks to close poeple like you, Michael, Anoli, Liya and Nazeel. Did it all start when you met Jeff, or...when you fell in love with Leonard?

Lilith: ...It was all the way back, when you and me decided that what our Father did was not exactly right. This was our first step, tho it looked more like we were rebelious and just wanted some freedom. I thought that with our common view on things we would do better than our Father.

Lucifer: And it could work, if not our chaotic natures. And you know that when two chaotic beings collide, the big bada-boom happens.

Lilith: Hehe, you can say so. Then, I guess you can say that I sure started to change after I began to date Leonard. I’m still surprised that you didn’t say anything about it.

Lucifer: Well, what could I say? I was just happy for you, until...

Lilith: Yeah...Anyways, I don’t think it’s because of it, but it sure played a role in my change. I began to see that not only by hedonist activities we can be happy, but also by other things, like a family, and that we can have better life than how mortals describe us usually.

Lucfier: Well, we should also thank our Father’s “mistake” that brought us the Gardener and that we can have delicious fruits and vegetables~

Lilith: Well, we always had it, we just didn't pay much attention to them~

Lucifer: Yeah. Also you took the responsibility in Purgatory, which was usually under archangels control, if I remember correctly.

Lilith: It doesn’t really matter, what’s matter is that with new rules such misunderstandings happen less and we can better understand how mortals live and by what principles.

Lucifer: True true.

For a moment they were silent, admiring the beauty of the night sky that covered the city with stars and moon. Even the party noise from school didn’t disturb it, no matter how hard it tried. Then, Lucifer sighed.

Lucifer: Am I still such a monster?

Lilith: What do you mean?

Lucifer: I mean, I caused too much trouble with my actions: the War with my Father, the Divine War, that race with mortals that almost ended up badly, my pure blindness on guarding Nazeel, and now this prank...

Lilith:...No, you’re not.

She gently put her hand on his shoulder.

Lilith: These recent years have been changing us all and for what is worth, they have changed you for the better.

Lucifer: You really think so?

Lilith: I can see it~ Well, maybe yeah it made us a bit too soft, but who cares?~

Lucifer: Hehe, this is sure something no one can take from you~

They smiled to each other as he gently removed Lilith’s hand from his shoulder.

Lucifer: At least I know what type of men you prefer, typical good bo-~

Lilith: Are you jealous that I’m with a human that gives me more happiness and joy in two years than i had in eons since i'm borned?~

Lucifer: Hey, who is jealous here?

Lilith: Your face says it~ “How can a human like Jeff make a queen of Hell fall in love with him? It’s unbelievable”~

Lucifer: Heeeeeyyy!

They both laughed from such situation, while Lilith looked at the clock that was hanging up on the entrance of the school. Lucifer noticed it, as they come back to the current situation.

Lilith: So, what will you do to fix that situation? How can you make up to them?

Lucifer: Is Jeff still working?

Lilith: Well, he is about to finish the work. Why such question?

Lucifer: I have an idea: I can invite them to the dinner. And I thought if you could bring pizzas from Jeff’s workplace.

Lilith: Ooohh, I see. Not a bad idea. Okay, I can help you with it~ But after it don’t forget to come back to Hell~

Lucifer nodded and turned around to come back to the nurse room, where students stood outside. Seemed like the nurse finished patching up Hugo, Monika and Pierce.

Lucifer: How is everyone?

Elza: Feeling fine. Tho the nurse said that you will have a serious chat with other teachers and principle.

April: And we’re still trying to cool down after what happened.

Lucifer: That’s understandable. That’s why I want to suggest you an idea.

Elza: Another halloween prank?

Lucifer: Oh no no no, I just want to ask if you don't mind the pizza. I know that it’s maybe not enough for an apology, but hey, after all this stuff it’s better have something tasty to eat, don’t you think?

Students looked at each other with little hesitation, which Lucifer noticed and added.

Lucifer: My treat, of course~

Pierce: Then I agree!

Elza: Woah, you’re so easy to persuade.

Pierce: Heeeyy, you know that when it’s about pizza, I’m on it.

Monika: I’m on his side, honestly. After such event I actually got hungry.

Hugo: Me too.

April: Well, I can stay a bit for a pizza, but then I will have to go back home. My family and siblings must be worried about me.

Lucifer: We will all accompany you after it. Right, guys?

Everyone: Yeah!

Elza: *sighs* Just no pranks this time.

Lucifer: Of course. Well, then please find an empty place at school while I bring pizzas.

Elza: The only good place without people is the library. Tho it's closed now.

Lucifer: Leave that part to me~ Let me first bring pizzas, then I will open the library for you.

Pierce: Wait, you have a key for it?

Monika: Well, he is Literature teacher after all, so I guess he has a spare one.

Lucifer: You're right, Monika. Okay, you go there and wait for me.

And students did what their "teacher" told them. Meanwhile he came back to the entrance to see Lilith, standing with some boxes of pizza.

Lilith: Hope it will be enough for amends~

Lucifer: It sure will be~ Thank you, Lilith~

Lilith: Always~ But payment is on you~

Lucifer: What??? Why on me???

Lilith: It's a part of your punishment for going too far with the prank~ My love expects payment tomorrow~

The king of Hell made an annoyed face to which Lilith only giggled and handed over the pizza. After making an agreement about payback, he came back to his students with pizzas.

Monika: Is this...all for us?

Lucifer: Yep~ As a compensation for that prank~

Pierce: Yay!! Free pizza!!

Elza: Hey, wait till we get inside!

Lucifer: She is right.

He used his key to the library as everyone entered and closed the door. Fortunately there was no one inside, so the students could have a peaceful moment for themselves. Hugo and Pierce helped to prepare the table to place the pizza.

Lucifer: So, shall we start our meal?~

Pierce: You bet!

Monika: This is actually first time we have pizzas with one of the teachers. We need to take a picture!

Lucifer: Oh, no need to, I’m-

April: I agree with Monika.

Elza: Me too.

Hugo only nodded, and Pierce did the same, to which Lucifer couldn’t help not to be surprised and smile.

Lucifer: Alright, let’s do as you say~

And everyone made a group photo to memorize such event, but still the best halloween evening before they continue their meal and more peaceful Halloween evening.

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

And that's the last part of the story XD Finally i have finished it XD It didn't go without mistakes that were fixed, but still worth it XD Hope you will like it ^^

Lucifer, Monika, April, Hugo, Pierce and Elza belong to @wildstarfan and @milasartblog (both me)

Lilith belongs to @wildstarfan and @captainthane

Okaria et Feria belongs to @wildstarfan and @captainthane

#my art #oc #oc character #okaria et feria #demon #lucifer #monika #april #hugo #pierce #elza #students #halloween #halloween party

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princess-of-the-corner · 3 years

Note

Ok, so I remember Dragon coming up with a Chloe DP au, and for some reason that combined in my head with your post about Vlad and the rich kids and the S4 spoilers so... imagine Chloe at Vlad’s party during a ghost attack, feeling depressed and useless and generally just thinking about being replaced. somehow she ends up in Vlad’s lair, self reflecting in front of the portal when it gets hit by a power surge. Most of the class just sees her being carried out to the ambulance, but 2 know better

Me: “I need to work on all my other fics.”

Also me: “Time to work on several pages of Chloé half dying!!! And another bootleg version of one of Dragon’s AUs!”

Vlad and Danny are on kinda friendly terms in this mostly because I wanted to write them snarking at each other.

Chloé was glad to get out of Paris for a while. A decision her father had made after, well. Certain incidents. Making her feel unsafe in Paris. So she was sent away to a place without Hawkmoth or Akumas.

Smoothing out the skirt of her pale yellow, nearly white, dress, she contemplated the place she ended up.

She would have been prepared for New York. But of course Audrey said she was too "Unexceptional" yet. But as Audrey had to go on a business trip to meet other rich business people at some fancy party, Chloé's dad convinced her to take her to this place.

Not that business parties full of other rich people were something she really wanted to deal with. They were usually too condescending at best. A few of them could be creepy. Giving her looks that made her want to take a shower for a year.

It was almost enough to make her want to stay in Paris. But the one thing that made her decide it wouldn't be too bad was who was hosting the party.

Don't get her wrong. Vlad Masters definitely gave off some strange and downright intimidating vibes. But the few times Chloé had met him at events like this, he was one of the few adults who seemed to respect her, despite her age. And he only used his threatening vibes on any of the other men looking at her.

That said, Chloé wasn't expecting much conversation with Vlad. They didn't usually talk much anyway, just polite conversation common at these things. And as Audrey was currently attempting to engage with him, almost as if she were blocking Chloé from getting near, it was unlikely she would.

"If you're going to commit a murder could you wait another twenty minutes? I have a bet going."

Chloé jumped, realizing someone was speaking to her. When she found who, her initial instinct was to glare. Blue eyes and black hair making her think of someone else.

However, as she took in the rest of the context, she found someone new. And male. A boy about her age.

"Who are you?" Chloé asked.

"Head of security," the boy said.

It was obviously a joke, from his tone and lopsided grin. And Chloé almost laughed at the idea of a teenager being any kind of security.

But she noticed the way he stood, the way he analyzed her. It reminded her of Adrien, in a way. Seemingly all smiles and laid back, but far more capable than he looks.

There was something else about him too. It actually reminded her of Vlad. The general vibes he gave off. But Vlad felt more… firey. Heat under his skin, waiting for the temper to snap. This boy felt more cold. Not emotionally, but like a snowfall that could quickly engulf you in a blizzard.

"I think a name would be better," Chloé said.

"Call me Danny then," the boy said, offering a hand.

"Chloé Bourgeois," she replied, politely taking it. "So, judging by the fact that you didn't give me your last name, you don't want me guessing who you're connected to."

"You probably wouldn't know them," he said. "My family's known for their studies on the paranormal. They're scientists. And not really the kind for this kind of party."

"But you are?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Absolutely not," he said. "But hey. Vlad's trying to buy his way to an apology by giving me money if I hang out and make sure nothing spooks the guests. Other than him, of course. Might as well put it in my college fund. So, you actually planning a murder or not?"

That almost made her laugh. A small smile on her face, Chloé's gaze drifted across the room to her mother.

"No murder yet," Chloé said. "If I do kill someone, it'll be the local supervillain back in Paris."

"Heard something about that," Danny said. "My parents keep debating on checking it out. It's obviously paranormal and magical, but they specialize in Ghosts."

"Are they the Ghostbusters?" She did actually laugh at that one.

"Something like that," he chuckled.

All of a sudden, Danny stiffened up. It had to be a trick of the light, but she could've sworn a mist came out of his mouth. He frowned, looking around carefully.

"Sorry, I have to go," Danny said. "A disturbance in the garden. See you around."

"Yeah, see you," Chloé sighed.

As he ran off through the crowd, Chloé wondered how he knew about the "disturbance". Maybe he was actually part of the security team and had an earpiece in?

Brushing the thought off, Chloé grabbed a drink from a passing waiter. Then she headed the opposite direction.

She wanted some time alone. It had been nice, talking to Danny. But the party was still overwhelming. She might be out of Paris, which meant less stares and whispers. But still too much interaction for her liking lately.

Chloé headed out of the main ballroom. Few paid attention to her. Those that did were quickly dragged back to their conversations.

As she wandered the halls, Chloé wondered if she could get lost in here. If her mother would notice. Maybe she could just. Not go home and just secretly live in Vlad's mansion.

A tempting idea, if she could figure out how to do it. But for now, she settled for exploring.

There was a library. Very nice. Bookshelves along every wall, except for a spot for a fireplace. Comfortable chairs and a couch to read on.

She looked through the bookshelves. It seemed well stocked, despite the impossibility of ever reading them all. Most were nonfiction, texts on various subjects. A few seemed to be typical fiction, though Chloé didn't inspect those too close lest she judge Vlad's collection of trashy romance novels.

What intrigued her was one large shelf, right across from the fireplace. These books actually looked well-used. Texts on the paranormal. Hadn't Danny said something about that? Between this and the familiarity with Vlad, perhaps it was a family-friend situation.

Dragging a finger along the spines of the books, she picked one at random. Pure curiosity more than actual interest.

The book was soon dropped and forgotten when the shelf slid open to reveal a doorway.

Now that had her curious and interested.

A look over her shoulder at the door, and Chloé was in the new room. No, a new hall of stairs. Descending down stone steps.

She was suddenly worried she would find some sort of kinky dungeon type place. Perhaps she should quit while she was ahead.

It was the buzzing in her fingertips that made the decision for her. Something… familiar.

It wasn't like the buzzing she felt near an Akuma, or near someone using a Miraculous. No, this felt more like Vlad. Like Danny. Whatever she was feeling from them, there was more of it down here.

Eventually the stairway opened to a room. It looked like a laboratory of some kind. Weapons and tools of shiny metal and magenta accents lined the walls. There were a few that traded magenta for green, but not as if two people consistently shared a space. More like one occasionally left objects behind.

The one thing in the room that was overwhelmingly green and not magenta was against one wall.

It almost looked like a doorway of sorts. Or a Magic Portal, really. Swirls of green that she couldn't see into. And if she hadn't spent the last year and a half being attacked by Magical Supervillains and becoming a Hero herself, she would've assumed it was just a large tv screen embedded in the wall for aesthetics.

The reminder of her time as a Hero brought back some bitter memories.

She might not have been the best person, but she was a good Hero. Chloé would have gladly continued being Queen Bee, despite the risks, because she had felt like she finally found a purpose. But Ladybug told her no, she couldn't have the Miraculous anymore. For her safety of course.

What a joke. Not only had Chloé been in more danger without it, as there was no way she could defend herself against Hawkmoth. But the other Heroes were still active, even with their identities known.

With a sigh, Chloé attempted to distract herself. Walking around the room and investigating the weapons around the lab. They were strange. She wasn't a gun expert, but these didn't look normal. Not regular guns that shoot bullets.

Were they alien weaponry? That didn't seem right. Chloé wasn't an expert, having never met an alien(as far as she was aware). But the weapons seemed very based on Earth designs, their sizes intended for average Human use. Maybe weapons for Humans to use on nonhumam creatures.

Whatever it was, Chloé was now a bit curious. What did Vlad get up to when he wasn't hosting business parties like this? Did he perhaps moonlight as a superhero? With that Danny kid as the Robin to his Batman? Perhaps she should stay. Be the Jason Todd of the family. Though with less dying.

She almost laughed at the idea. But as a crack of thunder rang through the mansion, loud enough to be heard from this basement laboratory, she jumped, instinctively spinning around to look for an attack.

A second crack of thunder, and all the lights went dark.

Chloé was not afraid of the dark. She never had been, even as a child.

But she was afraid now. Because this wasn't a normal blackout. In a mansion like this, there would be emergency generators. They didn't kick in, which meant this was likely something else.

Amity Park was different from Paris. No Hawkmoth. No Akumas. But that didn't mean there was no danger.

And the thing Chloé had become afraid of, after so many Akuma attacks and even Hawkmoth himself coming to her home, her room, and confronting her. The thing she was afraid of was being unable to fight back.

Her breath began to quicken, the only noise she could hear in the dark room. Heart hammering in her chest, Chloé tried to calm herself down. This wasn't Paris. Whoever or whatever it was wasn't after her.

But what if it was? What if this person had decided she would make a good target? What if Hawkmoth had followed her, hoping to get revenge for failing him as Miracle Queen? What if it was someone else, furious about what she had involuntarily done, knowing that if something happened here, Ladybug's Miraculous Cure would be too late?

Hands trembling, Chloé remembered the weapons on the wall. It wasn't her Miraculous, but it was something. She refused to go down without a fight.

The only problem was that, in her panic, she had gotten turned around she couldn't remember which was she was facing.

Blindly choosing a direction, Chloé kept a hand out in front of her, slowly moving it back and forth hoping she'd hit a wall. Her ragged breathing and the click of her heels on the floor being the only sounds. A good sign, she hoped.

Her hand hit something. A wall, she thought. Somewhere to her left. Keeping her hand flat against it, she hoped to follow it until she found the weapon rack again.

She kept walking, barely noting how the sound of her footsteps changed from heels-on-tile to heels-on-metal. Had the floor been metal? She couldn't remember. The stairs up had been stone so obviously she was still in the lab.

The lights suddenly came back on, the blackout over. Yet Chloé wasn't nearly as blinded as she should have been by the sudden brightness. It was coming from behind her. Had she somehow found a different hallway out of the lab?

As she turned to head back to something familiar, a different brightness flickered on. But she was completely unaware, as all she could focus on was pain.

Burning, crackling under her skin. Through every inch of her. Worse than anything she had ever felt, as Civilian, Hero, or Akuma.

The pain began to subside. Not going away, but no longer the intense agony. Just an ache, but as if she had run a marathon around Paris without being transformed. Her throat still burned the worst though. Had she been screaming? She couldn't remember doing so, but it seemed likely given the pain.

Stumbling forward, she managed to find herself back in the lab. Yet her vision was blurry. So blurry, in fact, that when she looked down her white dress appeared black.

The pain and exhaustion was too much for her. Pitching forward, everything went dark again.

--------

The next thing Chloé knew, she was somewhere soft. Everything still hurt, which made her not want to move. But she could hear two male voices arguing.

"You should let me explain it to her."

"You will confuse and scare her with your morbid humor."

"And you'll just freak her out!"

"I have more experience in this."

"Not in explaining it!"

"I explained it to Danielle."

"And I explained it to everyone else because you had to be a fruitloop!"

"Are you still using that insult?"

"It still fits."

Registering that she should probably see what's goin on, Chloé went to get up.

Her right arm must've slipped off whatever she was laying on, as she almost immediately slammed back down. The feeling that had her jolting upright instead of trying again to be slow, was that it felt like something hit the inside of her arm?!

Inspecting the limb, she didn't find anything wrong with it. It was there. No burns or bruises. The worst thing was a chipped manicure.

As her gaze went further up her arm to her shoulder, she noticed something. A discoloration in her skin. It was hard to see, having to look nearly straight down and only being able to see what skin was showing. But there were thin lines across her shoulders and chest. She couldn't tell how far they went up her neck, or how much further they extended under her dress.

The lines looked almost like lightning. It was then that she remembered the lab. The pain. But she swallowed down her fear.

"Well say goodbye to swimsuit season," Chloé muttered, her voice still a little shaky and her throat still raw.

"Perhaps your humor will be helpful after all," one of the voices from earlier mused.

Chloé jumped, having completely forgot that there were people in the room. One was Vlad, the other was the "head of security" kid. Danny, wasn't it?

"What happened?" Chloé asked.

"You received quite a shock," Vlad replied.

"Oh, and my humor is too much for her," Danny glared.

"Kind of used to puns in horrifying situations," Chloé said. "One of my best friends loves making puns to deflect dealing with things."

And okay yes she also did that. But she was not going to tell them that. Even if the looks they gave each other probably meant they guessed as much.

"Where am I?" Chloé asked, looking around.

"One of the guest rooms," Vlad explained.

"Not a hospital?" She asked.

"A hospital isn't quite equipped to handle… this," he said.

"One of the guests was a doctor who did a general checkup," Danny said. "She was sure you probably just fainted from low blood sugar or something."

"And… and my mother?" Chloé asked.

"She is back at her hotel," Vlad said, visibly bristling. "I may not be father of the year, but her lack of concern is appalling."

The exasperated look Danny gave him said there was a long story there. Chloé wasn't sure she wanted to hear it right now.

"So why would a hospital be bad?" Chloé asked instead.

"That is quite a story," Vlad said. "Do you know what you were messing with in the laboratory?"

"I know it had weapons," she said. "Then the lights went out and I tried to find my way around."

"I think that makes her smarter than both of us," Danny said.

"I didn't enter an unstable device on a dare," Vlad glared. “I knew what I was doing.”

"You stuck your face right up to a prototype device not knowing if it was stable or not," he retorted. "You're lucky you only half died.".

Vlad glared at him again. Chloé could have sworn he man's eyes flashed red. It was more than just a trick of the light.

He said a hospital wasn't a good situation for her now. He implied that he'd had something similar happen to him. And those books on the paranormal, leading to a lab…

Vlad wasn't Human. At least not anymore. Danny wasn't either, most likely. And Chloé realized, with mounting horror, that she probably wasn't either.

Once more she focused on her hands. What… was she now? Chloé flipped through her knowledge of the paranormal. It couldn't be a Vampire or Werewolf. She didn't get bit or infected with anything. Most other creatures she could remember Humans becoming had very specific circumstances or longer processes.

Then, she recalled something Danny had said. His family deals with Ghosts.

As if to confirm her suspicions, her hands flickered out of existence. An involuntary whimper escaping her throat.

"I… I'm dead, aren't I?" Chloé asked.

"Only half way," Danny said.

"That is nowhere as reassuring as you think it is," Vlad said.

This time it was Danny's turn to glare. But his eyes flashed a green color instead of red.

Meanwhile, Chloé was having a crisis. She died. She fucking died. But she was still here.

She was vaguely aware of their voices. Both males had come closer, sitting beside her on the bed. She knew one, or maybe both of them, was telling her to breathe. To focus.

She tried to focus on how strange it was, sitting between them. One burning, one freezing. Was that related to… This?

It helped ground her. Remind her that she wasn't alone.

"That's right," Danny said. "You're not alone in this. Which is already better than what we got."

"You could have had a mentor," Vlad said.

"But you were still evil back then," he smirked.

Oh boy oh boy. This was going to get oh so complicated.

#danny phantom #miraculous ladybug #never let Danny and Adrien in a room together they will murder everyone with puns #phantom chloé au

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

So, uh, I got excited with this ask

Anonymous said:

so what if, and I’m just spitballin’ here, you wrote a little something for Tomura, a jealous!reader x Tomura, perhaps? Ik there probably wouldn’t be an actual situation where somebody would try to steal him away or anything but just a little something on the reader seeing something that wasn’t what it looked like and Shiggy kind of reassuring her in his own special way? 😌 pls &thank you sm in advance, but you of course absolutely don’t have to write it if you don’t want to (: love your work!

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Gen!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, jealous feelings, mentions of past relationship and heavy petting, mm, imma say it’s rated T, for the teens and upper betweens

Word Count: 4387

Notes: Lol. I’m pretty sure this was meant to be like, a drabble or head cannon in your mind nonnie. Me, being me, I stretched it out into a freaking fic. I can’t shut uppppp sometimes. First time trying for a Gen!Reader, so hopefully it’s a thumbs up. Not beta edited, so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

It’s been two months, two freaking months and you’ve hardly gotten two texts strung together, let alone a call, from Tomura.

While he’s never been what anyone would call a frequent texter, your last message has sat, unread, on his phone for the last 3 days. You know he’s busy, you know he said he’s got shit to take care of, but you can’t help the angry pit of worry that simmers in your gut. He could at least tell you something. Like, hey, I’ll be out of touch for a few days, talk soon. Is that too much to ask?

Apparently it is.

The two of you have always been a quiet item. Most of the League knows, or at least, heavily, heavily suspects. It’s not like you tried to keep it a secret, it’s just the way you both are. Besides, you usually liked how the arrangement worked.

You’d met him through your job. You worked with Giran as a courier of sorts. Sometimes you’d lug shipments back and forth, sometimes you’d make deliveries. It was one of these deliveries that introduced you to Tomura. He was quiet, sulking toward the back of the bar, but you’d managed to strike up a conversation with him as Compress double checked his requested items.

He was waspish, sharp. At first, you worried that your questions had only managed to pissed him off. But then, just as you started to chat with another guy in the bar, a snarky fellow, who was covered in some serious, serious burns, Tomura tugs your attention back to him with a pointed question.

“Can you tell Giran that you’re only one who’s permitted to transport the deliveries to the bar?”

That one query had started a landslide.

You were summoned to the hideout frequently, practically on the daily after that. Giran just shook his head and asked you not to fall too deep. You didn’t know what he meant then. Two months later you understood his meaning perfectly.

How could you not fall head over heels for this guy? Fuck, he was so desperate, so wanting, so fucking needy for you. God, you missed it now that you didn’t have it. After the Kamino incident, he’d called on you even more and you loved that you could help him. He honestly seemed, in his own, gruff way, appreciative.

But, then he’d said he needed to leave the city.

At first, your contact with each other had maintained some semblance of normalcy. You would text and he would reply. You could call and he would answer. Often, he sounded tired, strained, but every once in a while you could pull a laugh from him and all would feel right with the world.

Now?

Now nothing feels right and the only link you have to him is Dabi. He’s the only person in the League that’s responding to your emails or texts. Even Giran isn’t answering anything. That’s not normal either because Giran always, always answers. What the fuck is going on?

It’s starting to feel like you’ll never know. This is mainly due to the fact that Dabi is a shitty, shitty font of information. At first, you’d eagerly taken his calls and texts. In lieu of a tip, you asked him about this mission Tomura was on. He fed you vague, flippant, answers.

“Tch, this again? I already told you, they’re all fighting this giant. It’s some pet of the doctors.”

“And like I said the last, oh, I don’t know, twelve times, giant makes no sense to me. Can you expand on that a little bit? Like, what the hell does that mean? They’re fighting a fucking giant. Is that supposed to be some kinda bizarro hint? Cuz’ it sounds like you’re giving me shoddy information to get me off your back,” you snap, placing your foot on his box of requested medical kit supplies.

Dabi practically keeps you on standby now. The guy has gotten more aggressive in the last month, and the heavy price his fire quirk extorts on his body meant he needs a steady flow of burn cream, meds, stitches and pain relievers.

“Fuck, look, I don’t know how else to explain that fucker. I didn’t give a shit about boss man’s little mission to tame him, so the doctor and I worked out something else for me to do. I’m not around those guys right now, I’ve got other things I’m working on. Now give me my shit and get out of my face. Ask Toga about your little fuck buddy, I could give two shits about his well being.”

“Why follow him if you hate him so much?” God, this asshole is such a prick.

Dabi considers you for a long moment, his vibrant blue eyes lingering on your scowling face. “He’s a means to an end. I’m just here to see this society fall to its knees. Boss wants the same thing, so, for now, this arrangement works for both of us. Now, if I have to ask you to give me my fucking shit one more time, I’m gonna’ singe you where you stand.”

Sucking your teeth, you kick the box toward him and turn on your heel, slamming his door behind you. If he’s not going to be useful to you, why be useful to him? We’ll see how he likes it when you accidentally miss some of his shipment deadlines.

You pace out into the night, shrugging your jacket up on your shoulders. If they’re so far out, if they’re fighting something that sounds like an impossibility, why not ask you to bring them some supplies? Why haven’t they reached out to you?

As you wait for your train, you pull your phone from your pocket, your cold fingers resting against the glass. There’s a missed call from another contact, but no other notifications. You swipe over to your messages from Tomura. Your last text sits, still unopened, unread, uncared for, in his box. It’s not fair, you think, sliding your phone back and pressing your hands into the meager warmth of your pockets.

Tomura used to confide in you and you felt close to him. And not just in a physical sense. At first, the relationship between the two of you was just that, something that eased an itch. But you kept asking him things, liking the soft tone his voice could take on when he lost some of that anger.

Then, he started to wordlessly ask you to stay a little longer, his arms wrapping around your bare form, holding you against his warmth. It was nice. It was so, so satisfying and now it’s gone. Is this his way of moving on from you? You would have thought that he would have said something. He’s never struck you as someone who hides from a confrontation. So why the radio silence?

Another week passes and Dabi keeps calling. He’s practically got your entire schedule blacked out now with deliveries, upcoming shipments and transports. What. The. Fuck. It’s gotten so frustrating that you’ve started to waffle on picking up his calls, sending him straight to voicemail.

“What kinda courier leaves their fucking name on their voicemail? Stop ignoring my calls, (Y/N).”

Yeah, he’s a real charmer. At least he answers your messages though. It’s better than nothing, you keep telling yourself, trying to ignore the gnawing, munching feeling of bitterness that keeps rising. Yeah, Dabi’s gotten to be such a constant in your life that your phone keeps recommending him as a new favorite.

Would you like to add the contact: Dabi, to your favorites list? No, no you would not.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Dabi’s not answering you either. Your first, gut instinct, tells you that he’s likely annoyed with your spotty replies or he’s busy with...”Dabi things”. He’s always reminding you about the oh, so important “Dabi things”. ‘Don’t pester me with your shit, (Y/N). I’ve got something big I’m working on.’

But now? Fuck, now you’d kill to hear from him.

There’s absolutely nothing. No response from Toga, Compress, Spinner, Dabi and most important of all, Tomura.

He’d finally read your text. After two whole days had passed from the sent time stamp, he’d read it, and then opted to not respond. It stung. You can still feel that tightening emotion of dread, of abject hurt, that had radiated from your chest when you saw that he’d finally looked at your message and then just decided you weren’t worth his time.

Yeah, after seeing that, the last few days have been nothing but a full tilt boogie of emotions for you.

This must be a planned thing. Why else would they all coordinate their ghosting. He must have wanted to leave you behind and now, this distance has made it possible.

He’s been changing a lot lately.

Even before he left for this, whatever it was, he’d grown in confidence and skill. Fuck, he’d taken on a Yakuza boss and won. He’s becoming a leader, a competent force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t need you to bounce ideas off of anymore. A courier picked up at the start of his career isn’t a necessary piece to add to his collection.

Yeah, chances are, he’s moved on. He’s out of your reach now and you can’t help the thoughts that rise in the back of your mind. What if he’s found someone else? What if he just got bored with you? Did you put too much thought into this relationship? Well, that question has kinda answered itself. You put way too much into this. You had planned for things, hoped for…

Your phone rings and the noise startles you out of your head. You fumble for your vibrating device and lift the screen up before swiping to answer the call. Oh, it’s Toga. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone to your ear and are so happy to hear her babbling voice.

She tells you that she’s been meaning to call you, but, gosh, everything has gotten in the way. Plus, she took a bad hit in a fight. Oh, she’s ok, but it’s been a crazy week for her.

As she chatters about some random series of events that you can’t string together, you let out a long sigh. That coiling that’s been building in your stomach loosens and you’ve never been so relieved in your life. There’s still a chance. Maybe he hasn’t decided to leave you in the dust. Maybe...whoops, Toga asked you something.

“Deka City? No, I’ve never been there.”

“Oh good, well, I wouldn’t try and go now. Tomura sorta, mmm, crumbled it to bits.”

“What?”

“Oooh, and we’re part of a bigger group now…”

She tells you about something called Gigamantia and their new connections. Apparently, Tomura’s made another step up in the world. Now he’s leading something called Meta Liberation? What is that? It sounds kinda familiar, but where have you heard it?

Toga is winding down her conversation, her voice smoothing out. She promises she’ll answer your other texts soon and emails you a set of coordinates, saying they’ll see you there and clicks off.

You lower your phone to your lap, biting back the grin that won’t stop spreading across your face. Ok, so, maybe you’re not as abandoned as you thought. Maybe they, no, maybe he still needs you.

******

You found the building alright. It was impossible to miss. This place is massive, fit for an army. The security is tight, so tight that you’d even been screened by a guard at the door. Once they confirm that you are who you say you are, and you know who you say you know, you’re permitted entrance.

Who are all these people?

As you enter the “meeting room,” which is really a space that looks like a concert area, complete with a well lit stage, you’re pressed into the mass of bodies. There must be hundreds of people here and there’s some hulking creature, dozing in the corner.

Is this that giant Dabi mentioned? You totally thought he was making that shit up. And, wait, wait, is that a pro hero a few spaces away? What is this? Where is the League?

The overhead lights dim and your attention is drawn back to the sage. People are bustling around the elevated area and a plush chair is placed in the center. Looks like the show is about to start.

A loud, booming voice announces the arrival of a man called Redestro. He must be that long faced guy in the motorized chair and, oh, there he is.

He walks up slowly, it looks like he’s leaning on something, but you can’t see clearly. The crowd shifts around you and an inordinately tall man is blocking your view. Huffing out a sigh, you try to maneuver yourself to a better vantage place.

He’s seated now, his long legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he looks both wonderful and terrible, at the same time. Wonderful because it’s Tomura, terrible because he’s covered in bandages and he’s got a brace on his leg. What happened to him?

Your eyes can’t stop roving over him, trying to drink in everything. He looks like he’s on edge, his fingers clutching at a small slip of paper, as his good leg jiggles against the chair. Why...ah, he’s being introduced. Wait. He’s being introduced as the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front? So...so all these people...this entire organization...is his to command?

He clears his throat and you hear his voice for the first time in months. He’s halting at first, but as he continues his speech his tone deepens, strengthens, losing that early hesitation. He sounds good, powerful and confident.

You tear your eyes away from him and give the crowd a quick glance. They’re enraptured. A few paces away you can hear people whispering to each other, their voices low, awed.

“He took down Redestro…”

“He’s so young.”

“He’s kinda...I don’t know...handsome.”

“You’re right, he looks regal.”

That coiling, trembling feeling is making a strong comeback. It’s an ugly return and it makes your flesh prickle and cool. He’s left you in the lurch for months and now he’s become some sort of leader, of an entire, what is this...a cult? An organization? An army? How the fuck, would you know? No one, least of all Tomura, has told you anything, about any of this.

When the address and introductions (the League had made a, uh, flashy entrance) are over, someone comes up and taps you on your shoulder. It’s another one of those security guards. She says you’ve been requested, the League wants to see you.

She takes you past the stage and down a long hallway. It’s quiet back here and the silence doesn’t soothe your frayed nerves. You’re pointed to a large set of doors and you bite your lip before pushing them open.

Another large room greets you. This one is filled with plush couches, elegantly carved tables and multiple chairs. There’s so much to look at, you don’t even see them at first. No, you hear him before you see him. He’s talking with a tall woman, who is writing down what he dictates, her pen moving rapidly across her paper.

Fuck, you’ve missed his voice.

It’s quiet now, a little hoarse from his speech and you want to step closer. He’s standing next to some large windows, his back turned to you. He hasn’t even noticed you. What were you thinking? He’s this...God, leader now. What are you? Just a nobody he met when he was still pounding the pavement, looking for anyone who could help their cause, their mission. There’s nothing for you here, he’s…

“(Y/N).”

Your eyes snap up to his. Tomura has turned, one arm braced heavily on his crutch, and is looking right at you. His eyes are hooded, dark, you can’t get a read on him from here. You want to step closer, but that sickening feeling is falling, like a stone, into your gut. Despite your turbulent emotions, you can’t stop staring at him.

The thick bandages are off and his hair is longer, the white strands hang close to his collarbone now, gleaming and pearlescent. He looks, damn, he looks tired and...what’s that? There’s something dark on his hand, it’s black and it covers three of his fingers. Why is he wearing that half glove, oh, oh no. It’s not a glove you realize, horrified, it's a prosthetic. He’s lost some of his fingers.

“It took you long enough, come here, (Y/N).”

His voice has dropped an octave, lingering in that distant tone that he would use when he dragged his lips across your neck, rumbling and murmuring against your skin. He knew that you liked that, he knew that it would make you so desperate for him, your hands pawing at his shoulders, pulling...

No. He’s ignored you for weeks, no, months. You’re not about to just fall to pieces at his feet, crawling and begging for him to want you. Your eyes latch onto his and you minutely shake your head at his request, fingers squeezing into your palms.

The woman, noting the tension that’s suddenly entered the room, looks between the two of you, and abruptly makes herself scarce, her heels tapping against the floor as she walks to the door. Once you hear it close behind her you unstick your mouth, your tongue heavy against your teeth.

“Who was that?” you ask, your voice croaking, thick with disuse. You can’t help the question. It tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. You’d meant to ask him something else, but the query just, pops out, angry and trembling.

“I don’t know. One of Redestro’s cronies. Why-” His face scrunches abruptly and a wince of pain passes of his features. “Why does it matter?” He finishes, his hand gripping a little tighter against his cane.

“You didn’t have to send for me, you know. It looks like you’ve upgraded everything else, why not me too?”

A scowl echoes across his lips. “What-”

You won’t let him finish his question, you can’t stand it anymore. You also can’t seem to stop. All of the emotions, the anger, the betrayal, the fucking, God, jealous thoughts that you’d slip into, alone in your cold bed. No, you’re not going to back down.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text, and when you did, finally, manage to remember that I exist, the texts were so far and few between...fuck, sending a letter would have been faster. The only link I had to you was Dabi-”

“What?” He snaps, repeating his question, his red eyes, flashing, gleaming, glaring. “What does he have to do with anything?” His face is set in a deep snarl, his scar lifting along his white teeth. His fingers coil into his crutch, one digit arched away, and he begins the long journey to where you’re stubbornly standing.

You watch him on bated breath. The sheer excitement of his renewed presence is making you shake. The warring feelings that are rising inside you are too much. It’s too much, it’s, oh...he’s right in front of you now.

“Answer me, (Y/N). What the fuck does Dabi have to do with anything?”

You gulp. Tomura has never, ever liked you interacting with Dabi. It was that first subtle flirtation between you and the flame user that had set Tomura off in the first place. He had barely given you a second glance that first time you met him, but once your attention wandered over to Dabi, suddenly he was all ears. That animosity grew as time wore on.

If anything, Dabi took advantage of it. He liked to press you, corner you, it was one of the many things you disliked about him. He was a selfish ass, only manipulating things for his own, twisted amusement.

It’s a low blow for you to land on Tomura, to play up his own jealousies, but turnabout is fair play, right?

“He’s the only person I could reach. You want to know who my phone keeps asking me to favorite now? Fucking Dabi. I kept asking him about you, about what was going on, but he never knew.

So, then I tried reaching out to you, directly. But then you decided to conveniently lose my fucking number, or something. You didn’t answer a single thing after that last text I sent you, what, two weeks ago? You didn't call. You didn’t even act like I exist, it-”

“I told you it would be a while.”

“Yeah, a while doesn’t typically mean two months. And how do you come back to me? With a broken leg and, fuck, three missing fingers? What is going on Tomura? You’re a different person now. Do you even want me anymore? You don’t have to ghost me. You could have just told me that you were moving onto bigger and better things.

Congratulations, by the way. You’re the leader of a cult. Now, you can cut off all those lousy loose ends, like me-”

“You’re jealous.”

His voice has dipped into that low octave again, rasping, deep, and oh, fuck. You sputter at his assessment, your hands clenching into your pants. You need something to tether you, to keep you from reaching for him. You’re angry, remember? He’s left you, all alone, so alone and...

He’s shifted to lean into you, the warmth of him rolling over you in waves. You can hear his breathing, if you move a little bit closer you could feel it, too. He knows what he’s doing. He’s used this tactic on you before. It’s very effective. His crutch taps him nearer. He’s practically flush against your heaving chest and your eyes flick up to his.

The red is dark, tempered, and that swirling agitation has left him. He looks…

No, no, he left you for months, he can’t look at you like that. You shake your head, your eyes wincing shut, blocking him from view.

“I’m not...I-I’m not jealous, I was just-”

“Come here, (Y/N). Don’t make me ask you again.”

His new, half prosthetic hand reaches for your neck and traces over your trembling throat, ghosting over you, forcing you to press toward him. Once he’s satisfied you’re not going to reject his touch, he lets the digits tap onto you, gently, slowly, like he’s coaxing you out of your temper. The contrast of cool metal and warm skin makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering open.

He’s curved over your lips, his white hair drifting softly around your face. Unthinkingly, unquestioningly, you reach for him. Your fingers lace into the silken tendrils and he lets a slow exhale wash over your face. His verdant eyes are so close. They’re fixated on yours, refusing to let you slip from his gaze again.

You can’t breathe. There’s something else you want to scold him for, but...but his lips are so close. His nose bumps against yours and you bite your lower lip. He’s so warm. He smells nice too. It’s a rich smell, earthy, thick with some enticing aroma that’s all him. It floods your senses and you’re downing, distracted and lost.

Tomura’s won this little stand-off because you reach for him first. Your fingertips urge him to you, one thumb dragging a familiar trail across the mole on his chin. His lips are chapped, rough, but oh, oh you’ve missed this.

He lets you lead him, your lips pressing and lifting, planting feather light caresses against him. Your tongue swipes across his lower lip and he groans. It’s a husky, broken sound and it makes you yank at his clothes. His new suit crumples under your hands. You’d almost feel bad, if he hadn’t been such a neglectful ass to you. You’re nipping at him now, your kisses losing that sweet vulnerability.

Tomura approves of this frantic pace and one arm cages against your back, lifting you closer and dragging you against his front. His crutch clatters to the floor, but neither of you have the wherewithal to care.

Besides, you think happily, you can be his crutch now.

He’s biting and sucking, his teeth drifting from your trembling lips and pressing into your pulse. One particularly hard nip has you arching into him, a gasping whimper on your lips. His tongue laves over the hurt, lulling the nip.

Your hips instinctually lean into the his and you moan when you feel the hardness that is waiting for you there. Tomura presses back, dipping his nose into the juncture of your shoulder, his lips distractedly kissing against your skin. Your fingers trace down his front again and one hand goes lower still, running along his pants until you find what you’re searching for.

He growls when you apply just the right amount of pressure and he’s pulling your lips back to his, demanding more. You’re skirting your other hand to the clasp of his belt when someone barges in the door.

Gasping, you start to pull away, trying to turn, but Tomura holds you to him, lifting his chin until it’s resting against your shoulder. He’s glaring out at whomever the fuck is standing in the doorway, but his fingertips are moving against you, pressing and soothing down your fevered skin.

“Hey boss- ah…” Dabi is brought up short by the sight that greets him and you can hear the sneer that he must have thrown Tomura’s way.

Tomura, for his part, is quiet, content to silently stare down the man who stupidly interrupted him. He turns his head a fraction of an inch, but it’s enough room for him to drag his rough lips against your neck. You quake at the stimulation and hear Dabi let out a barking laugh.

“Ew, well this is fucking disgusting. Looks like the two of you can go back to fucking normal, eh (Y/N)? You and boss man can bone and get all that pent up insecurity out of your-”

“Get the fuck out,” you and Tomura say in unison.

You hear another scoffing chuckle and then the door slams shut.

Notes: The Dabi bits miiiight be in there because I finally got my belated birthday present of his Banpresto figure in today ԅ(≖◡≖ԅ)

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @evesmores

*I think that’s everyone for now. If you wanna be added to a list just drop me a line & I’ll get you on the Google Doc: Shigaraki works, Dabi works, Hawks works, BNHA works, All works...works, works. There’s likely more to come, but that’s what I got for now. k byeeee.

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phantasticworks · 3 years

Text

Take a Picture (It'll Last Longer)

so. here i am again (soz) but I really just couldn't wait a second longer to post this fic. So this is just part one, and there will be a part two posted soon(ish). and yes i did in fact decide the phandom needed yet another photography fic (although, tbf i started writing this back when those were still cool and popular)

read on ao3

Words: 21.6k

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at 2 a.m. in a coffee shop. Phil is a photographer looking for a model, and Dan can't say no to pretty boys.

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, light angst

It was a weird situation.

Scratch that. It was an insane, very unlikely, but somehow still copacetic situation. See, Dan didn’t have anything better to do with his time (aside from the time he spent facedown on the floor dreading his very existence, he was pretty much a free agent) and Phil had been rather... convincing.

Not in that way.

Well.

No, no, not in that way. Not really, at least.

They met in the way most caffeine-driven, insomniac uni students do when they’re struggling through assignments at two am and would absolutely kill for some caffeine; they met at a coffee shop. Dan’s favorite coffee shop, actually, although by the end of the evening that fact would be used against him in order for one particularly passionate and newly inspired photographer to get his way.

“A caramel macchiato, please. And, uh... pistachio muffin?” Dan pulls his wallet out of his pocket, digging inside until he finds a tenner. The change she hands him back is deposited into the tip jar, and she offers him a small smile.

“Thank you, I’ll be right back with your drink.”

Dan nods, stepping to the side and very nearly bumping into someone else. “Whoops, sorry, mate.” Unconsciously, he reaches a hand out to steady the other person. Dan’s eyes flick up and meet pale skin, blue eyes, and a very disheveled looking quiff.

“No, it’s my bad, really. I wasn’t even paying attention,” the man replies, quiet embarrassment covering his tone.

Stepping back a respectable distance, Dan tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans, taking in the appearance of the man in front of him. He’s wearing a red and black plaid shirt with the top button undone, and over that is a stonewashed denim jacket. His legs, miles of them it seems, are painted with the black skinnies that his hands are awkwardly tucked into, in sort of a weird backward claw. He’s got a bag slung over his left shoulder, a kind of boxy looking one that almost looks like a lunchbox. Dan is faintly aware of the fact that this stranger is watching Dan check him out, but if he has a problem with this, the man doesn’t say so. After an assessing gaze, Dan’s eyes flick back up to blue ones hidden behind simple black framed glasses.

“Caramel macchiato,” the chipper voice behind the counter says, interrupting whatever silent conversation Dan is having with this stranger.

“That’s me,” Dan says with a small smile, stepping to the side to grab his drink and muffin.

“Funny, that’s me as well,” the stranger jokes, stepping up to the counter, closer to Dan than is probably strictly necessary. Dan doesn’t find that he minds. “I’ll have what he’s having.” He tilts his head, squinting at the hand Dan is holding his muffin in. “What kind of muffin is that?”

“Pistachio,” Dan responds.

“Hm,” he considers. To the girl behind the till, he says, “Scratch that, same drink but I’d prefer a raspberry almond cream scone.”

The girl nods, ringing him up and telling him the total. It occurs to Dan, while they’re having this interaction, that he has no reason to stay there. He’s already gotten his food, and he doesn’t know this man. There’s really no reason to stand there and wait on him. And yet, Dan sees no reason to go rushing off back to his shitty little flat with his annoying roommates who hate him. He shifts from foot to foot, contemplating on how creepy it is for him to stand there waiting for a stranger.

Before he has the chance to properly freak out about it, the man turns his head, smiling when he sees Dan still stood there. “Are you waiting for someone?” he asks politely.

This feels like it’s a challenge in some way, but Dan can’t decide how. He’s even less sure about how he would handle it even if it was. Two seconds away from lying, he stutters out a fumbled, “I- no.”

The smile grows into a full blown grin, and Dan can’t help but focus on the little bit of pink tongue poking between his teeth. “Perfect! I could use the company.”

Dan doesn’t have time to argue against that. As soon as the man is handed his order, he thanks the cashier and turns to look at Dan, gesturing to the sofas in the corner. Nodding, Dan follows him over and takes an awkward seat on one end of the ugly, green crushed velvet sofa closest to the window. The man has already laid out his scone and drink, and he hands Dan a napkin as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

“Thanks,” Dan says, holding the napkin in his hand like an idiot. When the guy smiles at him, Dan tries to copy it, but he knows it’s awkward. “I’m Dan,” he says dumbly, moving to hold his hand out for a handshake. He realizes a second too late that he still has his drink in his hand. His face floods with color, and he’s quick to set it down and try again.

Blue eyes crinkle on the edges of a smile, and the man reciprocates the handshake in a much less awkward fashion. “I’m Phil.”

Dan nods, tugging his hand away when it feels appropriate to do so. It hasn’t set in until then, but the true awkwardness of this situation, of having a two am coffee and snack with a stranger, really sets in. “So, um... caramel macchiato?” His voice is stilted, awkward, even to his own ears.

Phil quirks a brow and bites his lip as if to hide a smile. “Yeah, reckon it’s my favorite.”

“Good favorite to have,” Dan replies. He reaches for his drink and takes a large sip. It’s sweet, sweeter than he’d usually like at this time of day (or night, depending on how you looked at it) but it was still nice. His hands shake a bit as he goes to set it down, so he tucks his hands under his thighs to hide it. Glancing up at Phil, he frowns, surprised to find him already looking back.

Phil has an easy smile on his lips, and he leans back on the sofa, pulling his legs up to sit in a criss-cross fashion as he regards Dan. “I’m guessing you’re a student?” Phil asks.

Dan’s lips twist but he forces a nod. “Yeah,” he replies, shifting uncomfortably.

Despite Dan’s awkwardness, Phil appears intrigued, leaning in with a smile. “What are you studying?”

“Law.” The word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and his nose scrunches at the thought.

Phil smiles, his lips curling as he takes a sip of his drink. His eyes sparkle above the cup, as if they’re sharing some sort of secret. Dan kind of likes the way that feels. “What did you want to study?” Phil asks, as if that’s something you just ask someone you’ve only just met.

Dan can’t help but bristle. “I... what makes you think I don’t want to do law?” He crosses his arms, defiant.

The look Phil sends him implies that the question is a stupid one. “Your face kinda gave it away, mate.” He does that smile again, the one with his tongue between his teeth, and Dan nearly swoons.

“Okay, well, no, it’s not exactly my dream career.” Dan can’t believe he’s admitting this to a complete stranger. He hasn’t even admitted this to his parents yet. Not to mention the other, more personal thing he hasn’t admitted to them yet. He won’t be sharing that today, though. At least, he doesn’t plan on it.

Phil leans in again, hovering close like they’re sharing secrets. “What is your dream career?” he asks in a quiet voice.

Dan stares at him instead of responding. Something clicks in his head, and he recognizes this as some form of flirting. He can’t, or rather doesn’t want to, deal with that. So he doesn’t. Instead, he laughs. Loudly and awkwardly. “Don’t think we know each other well enough for me to share all my hopes and dreams, mate.”

There’s a flash of a grin but then Phil settles back, his mouth forming a vague smirk as he tucks into his scone. Watching him eat serves as a reminder that Dan has his own food, a reminder he’s grateful for as soon as Phil catches his gaze. Cheeks warm, Dan quickly reaches for his pistachio muffin, tearing it apart and eating it in little bits.

He hears a laugh from beside him, but at this point he pays no mind to it. His whole reason for leaving his shitty little flat at two in the morning was to get one of these delightful muffins, and despite the distraction, he was actually very hungry, and after the first bite he can’t help but snarf the rest of it up. He’s mid-chew, barely holding in a noise of pure joy at how fluffy the pastry is, when he hears a camera shutter.

Dan startles. His muffin very nearly faces an untimely death, but with the secret muffin-saving ninja powers he didn’t know he had, he manages to save it before it hits the floor. Choking down the bite in his mouth, Dan turns his head, staring past the rather impressive looking camera lens and glaring daggers into Phil’s eyes.

“Um... What the fuck?”

Phil at least has the decency to look sheepish. He lowers the camera, his gaze locked on what Dan assumes is the screen, which is probably displaying the likely incredibly unflattering photo of Dan.

“Sorry,” Phil apologizes, half-heartedly. “You just... I don’t know, sorry. I should’ve asked.”

Dan clears his throat, sitting forward to place his muffin down. He dusts the crumbs off his lap, his gaze flicking from Phil to the camera. “Well? Let me see it.”

“Oh.” Phil looks surprised. Dan hates that he thinks that’s endearing. “Well, it’s not very good, I wasn’t going for something perfect, and the lighting is off, so-“

“If I’m modeling without my knowledge or consent, I’m seeing the result,” Dan deadpans.

Phil actually looks proper embarrassed now. “I am sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Clearly. Hand it over.” He reaches for the camera, but doesn’t snatch it. He was raised better than that, obviously.

With another sheepish look, Phil gently sets the camera down in Dan’s awaiting palm. He handles the camera carefully, but with steady, sure hands. Belatedly, Dan realizes that the camera must have been in the bag he’d mistaken for a lunchbox earlier. The camera is heavier than he’d been expecting, but then again Dan’s never really had much reason to hold a camera before, especially not one of this caliber.

He has to click the center button to wake the screen back up, and when he does he squints to see the picture better. His breath catches. The picture isn’t fantastic, from a subjective point of view. Although maybe that’s just his bias, as he’s the subject of it and it’s not exactly a flattering pose. He’s got a pleased look on his face, his index finger between his lips, clearly stuffing food in his mouth. There are crinkles by his eyes and regardless of the fact that no one looks good shoving food down their throat, it’s actually... not a bad picture.

“I’m sorry, I know, it’s not like... great. The lighting isn’t perfect, and the angle is awkward, but you were just so... well, anyway. Sorry, again.” Phil’s rambling at this point, and Dan can’t be bothered to reply to any of it.

“It’s... it’s actually really good, Phil.” Dan’s eyes don’t leave the camera. Maybe that’s narcissistic, but he doesn’t actively hate the way he looks, not from Phil’s perspective. Glancing up at who is apparently a good photographer, Dan offers a cheeky grin. “You’re not half bad for a guy who takes creep shots of strangers in cafes in the middle of the night.”

Phil’s face falls, a pinkish tint crawling up his cheeks. “I-“

“I’m joking,” Dan assures him with an easy smile. He hands the camera back, a twisting feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this stranger has a piece of him he can’t get back. He doesn’t like that part of this, he realizes. Clearing his throat, he gestures at the camera. “What’re you gonna do with that photo?”

Phil gives him a small, knowing smile. This makes Dan’s gut twist in a different way. He’s not sure how to interpret this one. “I can delete it, if you’d like,” he says, shrugging. His gaze drops to the photo and his lips twist. A silent conjunction lies stagnant in the air between them.

“Okay... is that what you’re going to do with it?” Dan asks, because he can’t not ask. He hates to tell this man, who is clearly a good photographer, that he can’t keep the picture, but the part of him that cringes at the idea of someone else seeing it refuses to be silent.

“Well, I mean obviously I will if you want me to, but...” he trails off, his gaze flicking between Dan and the photo on the camera as if he can’t reconcile the two versions of him. Or maybe it’s something else. “I’m actually looking for a model.”

Dan can’t help it. He laughs.

It’s not even anywhere in the realm of an attractive laugh, as he fully snorts, and that sound in itself just makes him laugh harder. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to have to keep looking. I’m not a model.” He shakes his head at the very notion.

Phil quirks an eyebrow and looks pointedly at his camera, as if that proves literally anything.

“Oh come on!” Dan groans. “That? Seriously? I look like, like a troll! Or a- a hobbit!”

The exasperated look on Phil’s face says that he isn’t buying it. “No, you really don’t. But even if you did, given the right lighting, angle, and some time, I think you’d be surprised at how not-hobbit-like I could make you appear.”

There’s something hopeful behind Phil’s eyes, and Dan watches as his fingers skate almost nervously over the buttons on the camera. Dan’s almost inclined to agree just on the off-chance he might get a shot at seeing what else those fingers do. He immediately berates himself for the idea; he barely knows this guy, but from all indications he’s lovely and deserves more than Dan’s gutter thoughts.

“I don’t know the first thing about modeling,” he says instead of going anywhere near the mental path his brain is suggesting.

“You don’t have to. As long as you’re good at keeping still and following directions, all you need is a good photographer,” Phil insists. He’s got a cheeky look on his face. “And being pretty doesn’t hurt.”

Dan stares that flirty remark in the face and says, “Let me repeat myself, keep looking.”

Phil’s face crumples into something unsatisfied before eventually shifting into something resigned. “If you actually don’t know that you’re attractive, then you’re very daft.”

The remark, as blunt as it was, sends a rush of something warm through his chest and up his neck. Ducking his head to hide his reaction, he mumbles, “I barely know you.”

“I promise I’m not a murderer.”

Dan’s head immediately snaps back up and he squints at the man beside him. “Funny, that sounds exactly like what a murderer would say.”

Phil grins. “Would a murderer offer to do a background check to prove it?” Those blue eyes are sparkling with mischief, and Dan is about two seconds away from agreeing to something both dangerous and stupid.

Reaching for his forgotten drink to distract himself, Dan hums. “Dunno. Don’t reckon I’ve ever met a murderer.”

“Yet,” Phil says, his voice filled with unabashed glee.

Dan levels him with a thoughtful stare. “Yet,” he agrees, slowly.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, finishing their pastries and drinks as Phil’s offer hangs above their heads. On the one hand, Dan really has nothing to lose. He’s bored of his life and his so-called friends who don’t seem to like spending time with him anyways, so it’s not like he’s losing out on precious social time if he agrees to it. On the other, he seriously doesn’t actually know Phil. He knows he’s a photographer who likes caramel macchiatos and that’s basically it. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know the bloke’s last name.

“What’s your name?” Dan asks, breaking the silence so suddenly that Phil actually startles in his seat. “Sorry,” Dan offers a sheepish grin. “I’m just curious. What’s your full name?”

Phil smiles. “Philip Michael Lester.”

Dan nods. He sips. Then, “I reckon that sounds like the name of someone who isn’t a murderer.”

When he glances over, Phil is hiding a grin behind his hand. “You reckon so?”

“Yeah,” Dan shrugs. He thinks for a moment. “What kind of... like, modeling, do you want me to do? Like, I don’t know if I’m down to be naked for photos.”

Phil’s got an adorable flush crawling up his neck, likely at the blunt way Dan had phrased it, but he somehow still manages to meet Dan’s stare with something serious. “Just for photos?”

Now it’s Dan’s turn to flush. “Shut up. Is this how you’re going to kill me? Lure me in with jokes and flirting and then cut off my willy when I’ve let my guard down?”

If Dan thought Phil’s face was red before, it’s literally nothing compared to the beautiful flush that paints his cheeks now. “No!” He hisses, looking over to the counter with panic in his eyes. Considering they’re the only customers and the cashier has retired to sitting on the counter playing with their phone, Dan thinks it probably safe to say that no one heard.

“Hey, I’m just asking! You can never be too careful. Lot of creeps out there,” Dan grins.

Phil shakes his head, hiding his horror behind his cup. “I’m starting to think you might be the murderer.”

Dan smiles, but it’s a bitter thing. “The only thing I kill is anyone’s desire to be around me for any length of time ever.”

It’s funny how quickly Phil’s expression changes. He lowers his cup, his gaze soft as it lands on Dan’s. For however long those moments are, they share some silent understanding. Even if Dan doesn’t know him, he recognizes that Phil gets it; maybe not on some deep psychological level, but Dan sees in the lack of pity or discomfort that Phil just... knows.

“If you promise not to kill me and I promise not to kill you, do you think you could maybe consider it?” Phil asks.

Dan’s grateful for the subject change, even though it forces him to focus on the topic at hand. He considers it for a moment, but really he already knew what his answer would be the moment Phil said he was attractive. If that makes him shallow, then so be it.

“I’ll do it.”

~~~

After exchanging numbers and schedules that night, Dan agreed to meet Phil at his flat two weeks later for his first shoot. It made him vaguely uncomfortable to think of it like that but in the end that’s pretty much what it was, at least if Phil had anything to say about it. The man in question had yet to give Dan any explanation for why he was taking the photos to begin with, but Dan just assumed it was for a project. He did learn that Phil was finishing up his second degree, something Dan was immensely jealous of, considering he felt like dropping out half the time.

The days before they’re meant to meet seem to fly by, and when Dan shows up at the address he’d been given on Friday night, he’s practically vibrating with nerves. Despite the fact that they’d spent much of that time apart texting and getting to know one another, he still felt a little out of his depth stood at Phil’s door, especially knowing what awaited him on the other side.

Still, it’s not like he could easily get out of it now. So instead he texts Phil to let him know he’s there, waiting awkwardly on the steps in front of the building. Phil replies to let him know that he’d be down in a moment, so Dan stands, shifting from foot to foot, as he waits.

He’d been completely clueless as to how he needed to dress for this, and Phil had been no help at all. He’d instructed Dan to just wear something comfortable, that he was less concerned about costuming than he was the picture itself. Dan didn’t know much about photography, so he decided to listen. He’d chosen a pair of black jeans, not ripped for once, and a plain black jumper. His hair was a controlled mess, and after an hour of forcing straighteners over it, he managed to get it into something presentable.

The door in front of him swings open while he’s contemplating his choice of shoes, and he nearly falls over in surprise. He catches himself before he can, but the embarrassment of almost falling nearly has him turning around to leave until he catches sight of Phil’s pleased grin. “You made it!” He cheers, ushering Dan inside.

Dan quirks a brow at him. “Did you think I just texted you from my flat just to get a laugh when you realized I wasn’t here?”

Phil’s grin doesn’t falter in the slightest. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re like, maybe you never planned on showing up at all and it’s all just a big prank.”

If Phil wasn’t already leading the way upstairs, he’d see the incredulous look on Dan’s face. “That’s ridiculous. I’m right here.”

He watches Phil’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know that. Maybe you’re a figment of my imagination. Maybe you’re a figment of your own imagination. Who knows?” They stop at a door just off the staircase on the second floor, much to Dan’s relief. He wasn’t much for exercise and he wasn’t aware that today he’d be doing cardio, or he’d have worn a thinner shirt. “Maybe existence in itself is just a social construct,” Phil says conspiratorially, opening the door to his flat and sending Dan a mischievous grin.

“Stop, you’re gonna send me into an existential crisis,” Dan complains.

Phil is good-natured enough to laugh, which is refreshing compared to the usual groans and bitchiness Dan would hear from his friends for a similar comment. It’s nice.

Phil leads the way into his flat, and Dan distracts himself from his nerves by looking around, taking in all of the little knick knacks and decor. It’s not messy, per se, but it differs from Dan’s own flat in the way that it’s comfortably lived in. There’s not a whole lot of space, but somehow it doesn’t feel crowded or small. Dan wonders if that has anything to do with the bright colors, which, he notes, don’t seem to follow any sort of pattern or color scheme.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess, I rarely have company.” Phil sounds apologetic as he moves further into the flat, bypassing the lounge and leading Dan into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

Dan nods, moving to settle on one of the barstools by the counter. “As long as it’s not of the alcoholic variety.”

Phil smiles as he moves around the kitchen, reaching into a cupboard for two glasses. Dan watches as the hem of his shirt rides up, showing just a little bit of skin before it settles back down. “You don’t drink?”

Shrugging, Dan leans forward on the counter, his arms folded. “Not with people I barely know,” he replies dryly.

There’s a flicker of something like hurt on Phil’s face, but it’s not there for long. “Ribena okay?”

“Sure.”

It’s a little bit awkward as Phil prepares their drinks in silence, which Dan attributes to the fact that they don’t really know each other that well. It’s hard to start a conversation with a stranger, especially when you’re in said stranger’s house. All things considered, though, Dan could be a lot more worried about that. Phil just seems to have this calming sort of energy to him, and it’s hard for Dan to reject that, even with his brain as messed up as it is.

“Here you go,” Phil says with a smile as he hands Dan a drink.

“Thanks,” Dan replies with a smile. He takes a sip, averting his eyes from Phil’s curious gaze. It’s a bit less watered down than he prefers, but he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. The sweetness is less of a whisper and more of a shout, and he smiles to himself when he thinks about Phil’s obvious sweet tooth.

“Alright?” Phil asks, sounding a little nervous.

Dan nods. “It’s good.” Clearing his throat, he gestures vaguely to Phil. “So, Mr. Photographer. What kind of photoshoot have you got in mind for me?”

At the mention of the reason for Dan’s presence, Phil grins. “Well, I’m glad you asked. Follow me.”

Dan spares a confused glance at his drink but does as instructed, standing up to follow after him. Now that he’s being led into the lounge he’s got a chance to look around a little more and is surprised to see a bookshelf filled with familiar things, mostly video games and movies. There’s a couple odd knick knacks here and there that he recognizes from a game or anime. The thought that they actually have things in common startles Dan, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“So, for the portrait series I’m doing, I’m focusing more on a lifestyle, candid kind of photography. I’m still working on the basic theme but I’ve got some ideas for a couple of shots to get started.” Phil is explaining this as he’s moving around, grabbing his camera off the desk and moving to the glass door which Dan has just realized opens onto a balcony. Dan’s nodding along, pretending he gets it, while still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this man looked at him and felt he was worth capturing. “If you have any ideas or questions or anything, feel free to let me know. I’m usually pretty open-minded about things like that,” Phil says with a smile.

Dan nods again. “Alright. Well, uh... where do you want me?”

Phil grins, and Dan flushes when he realizes what it sounds like. Luckily, Phil doesn’t tease him for it. “I thought we’d start with the balcony. I’ve got some ideas that I wanna go ahead and do while the lighting is nice.”

With another nod, Dan moves towards the door. Then he comes to a halt, turning back around to face him. “Is what I’m wearing alright? I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

There’s a twitch of a smile on Phil’s lips at that. “What you’re wearing is perfect. You can take your shoes off though, if you want. Might be here a while.” There’s no hint of innuendo in his voice, but Dan can’t help but think about it anyway.

He toes his shoes off, glad for the brief distraction to calm himself down. After tucking his shoes out of the way near the door, he turns around, tugging on his sleeves as he waits for instruction. Phil isn’t looking at him right now, his focus on the balcony door. He pushes it open, steps back, and then tugs it in just a little bit. After staring at it for a moment he closes it, then nods to himself. If Dan wasn’t so confused, he’d probably laugh at him.

A few minutes of this go by and then Phil’s turning back around with a bright smile. “Alright, so for this to look candid and what not, I need you to like walk out onto the balcony as naturally as you can. We’ve got time to do it more than once, so it’s fine if the first couple of times feel awkward.”

“Okay,” Dan shrugs. He’s struggling to pretend he’s not nervous at this point but really, how can he not be? He doesn’t even know Phil but he wants this to work for him.

Dan moves towards the door, hyper aware of every movement of his feet as they drag across the floor. He doesn’t hear any other instruction, so he continues, pushing open the glass door and stepping onto the balcony. He also doesn’t hear the camera shutter, so with an embarrassed feeling in his chest, he turns to look at Phil.

Click.

“Um.” Dan blinks. “I thought...”

“Just checking that the camera is good to go,” Phil says, his lips twitching like he wants to smile. Dan can tell he’s lying, but doesn’t know how he’d feel about being called out for it.

“So... want me to go again?” Dan asks dumbly.

Phil nods, gesturing for him to come closer. “Here, just...” as soon as Dan is closer, he reaches out for him. Dan’s heart thumps out of beat, and Phil hesitates, smiling gently. “Can I?” He asks, gesturing to Dan’s shirt.

Dan can only nod, and Phil takes that as permission. He steps just a bit closer, and a wonderful scent of something fruity and sweet floods Dan’s senses. He’s trying to decide if it’s kiwi or something else when Phil’s gaze meets his, making Dan flush and drop his eyes. Phil’s camera is resting against his chest, the strap around his neck, and Dan tries to focus on that as Phil takes Dan’s sleeve and rolls it up almost to his elbow. He takes the other and copies the look, glancing over the rest of Dan before clearing his throat and stepping back.

“Am I ready for the camera?” Dan jokes, trying to ignore the racing of his heart and the way he can still smell faint traces of Phil’s cologne in the air between their bodies.

Phil’s suddenly heavy gaze drags from Dan’s hair down to his jeans, and he tilts his head, considering. “Depends. How comfortable would you be without your jeans?”

~~~

Dan cannot believe this. He simply cannot believe he agreed to this. Even an hour and a half later, it feels a bit like some weird fever dream. But no, there he is, in Phil’s flat, clad in nothing but a black jumper and black Calvins, modeling. If it could even be called that, because at this point Phil is mostly just engaging him in conversation, getting Dan distracted, and then snapping a photo. He very rarely asks for a specific pose, and Dan’s starting to wonder if he’s actually getting any good shots out of this or not.

Still, he won’t complain because so far he’s learned a lot about Phil. He’s 28, which surprised Dan at first, until he explained that he’d finished school with a degree in video post-production only to realize a couple years later that he was interested in photography. He’s not a full time student, but he’s enrolled in the photography course and loving it, apparently. Dan feels all sorts of out of place when Phil talks about school with such passion. It’s something he wishes he had, something he’d wanted for himself for years and never found.

Dan actually shares things about himself, as well. He offers up his own situation with school, admitting that he’d dropped out of uni a few years ago, only to get stuck with no job and no future until his parents made him agree to go back. He’s in his second year of law this time, which as a 24 year old, feels very embarrassing. Phil is all kind words and encouragement about this; Dan tries not to feel surprised that Phil is not only attractive and clever but also deeply empathetic.

“That’s really brave, you know,” Phil tells him. He’s sat on the only chair on the balcony, looking up at Dan with soft eyes. Dan shrugs, glancing away from him. He can’t handle the caring behind those eyes, he can’t let himself feel something more for this stranger other than vague appreciation and friendship. There’s the sound of the shutter clicking, and he levels Phil with an unimpressed stare. Phil grins and snaps another photo.

“It doesn’t feel brave,” Dan tells him, continuing their verbal conversation as he turns away, looking out on the city around them rather than stand facing Phil. He realizes belatedly that the height of the balcony and the way he’s leaning against it probably just look like he’s presenting his ass, but he’s already lost whatever self-consciousness he had about being nearly naked in front of someone he hardly knows.

“How does it feel, then?” Phil asks. Dan likes that. He likes that he doesn’t argue with Dan’s feelings, he asks him to explain them. Dan likes that a lot.

“Well, it feels like... I dunno. Like a waste of time.” He glances over when he hears the chair squeak to find Phil standing beside him. He’s got this open, welcoming expression on his face. Dan suddenly feels like he could tell him anything and Phil would just... know. “I feel like I’m wasting my time, or potential, or whatever.”

Phil nods. “I get that. I started out with English Language and Linguistics at uni. I didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t something I was like, super passionate about. Not enough to stick with it, and like, what the hell do you do with that kind of degree, you know?”

Dan shrugs. He doesn’t know, honestly, but it feels good to talk to someone who gets it, in some way. “Right.” It’s quiet for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts as they look out into the street below. They’re not very high up, but there’s not a whole lot of tall buildings around, so it feels like they are. Dan hears the camera shutter but this time he doesn’t look. Instead he allows himself a small smile, something warm fluttering in his chest. Another click, and then he hears Phil sigh.

“These are really good,” Phil says softly. “I mean... not like I’m bragging, just...” He meets Dan’s gaze with a sheepish smile. “You look really good.”

Dan’s not sure he can handle that. He ducks his head, avoiding even looking in Phil’s direction until he feels less embarrassed and charmed and pleased. “I’m sure they’re alright,” he says noncommittally.

Phil laughs at that. “I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or yourself, but either way, I’m not sure I appreciate it.”

He can’t help it, Dan snorts at hearing this. “Sorry. Self-deprecation and all.”

There’s a very serious expression on Phil’s face when he looks at Dan then. It nearly chills Dan to his bones, but he finds he can’t look away. “I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.” He sounds perfectly serious.

Dan swallows. He wonders if he’s imagining the lack of space between them. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Phil studies him for a moment. He moves slowly, pulling the camera strap over his head and setting the camera carefully in the chair. Dan’s definitely not imagining it when Phil steps closer, making Dan turn as Phil crowds him back against the balcony. “All sorts of things,” Phil murmurs. Speaking any louder in the space between them would sound like yelling. “I see someone who’s sad.” Dan makes a soft noise of protest, but Phil shushes him gently. “But someone who’s doing what they can not to feel that way.”

They’re stood less than a foot apart now, and Dan studies the swirl of colors in Phil’s eyes. His breath is caught in his throat. He doesn’t know how Phil just knows these things, but somehow he’s managed to understand more about Dan than he’s understood about himself in years. More than that, Phil sees these things about Dan and doesn’t shy away from them. He looks at him like it’s okay to feel that way, like he maybe understands what it’s like. Dan loves it.

“What else?” He whispers, as if they’re sharing secrets.

Phil smiles. “I see those beautiful brown eyes.”

Dan blushes. “Shut up.”

“No,” Phil grins. He reaches forward, and Dan expects a soft touch and hopes for maybe more than that. He’s surprised when instead Phil pokes his side.

“Hey!” Dan yelps, squirming from his hand. “That’s rude.”

Phil giggles. “Sorry. I wanted to see that cute little pout.”

Dan’s face is likely blood red by now, but he tries to force his lips out of the pout he feels them in. “Alright, if you don’t stop flirting you might actually have to do something about it, you know.” He crosses his arms, quirking an eyebrow at Phil in challenge.

The challenge is apparently accepted, as Phil grins back, crossing his own arms. He’s an inch or two shorter than Dan, but with that stance, he appears taller. “Like what?”

And well, Dan wasn’t really expecting Phil to play along. He can only stare at him, blinking in confusion. “Um... well...”

It seems Phil expected this because he starts laughing as if it was a joke. Dan has no choice but to join in, pretending right along with him. “C’mon, you must be getting cold out here.” Phil turns to walk inside, gesturing for Dan to follow. Dan hadn’t really thought about it until now, but his legs are rather chilly.

After closing the door and walking into the lounge, he finds Phil stood there holding his jeans out to him. Dan tries not to let it bother him that this evening isn’t going in the direction he originally thought that it might go in. He shouldn’t be surprised about that. Phil is seemingly a very nice person, one who probably doesn’t hook up with emotionally unstable uni students he met at two am in a cafe. So really, Dan just needs to calm down with his expectations there.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, taking the jeans. He figures propriety is probably already out the window, so he goes ahead and pulls them on, trying not to think about the fact that Phil is watching him. “So, um...” He wants to ask if he’ll see Phil again, but he’s not sure how to.

Phil seems to understand anyway. He smiles and moves to the desk in the corner. Above it is a wall calendar, filled with lots of colorful sticky notes and scribbled handwriting. Even squinting, Dan can’t really make any of it out. Somehow, that, too, is endearing. Phil mumbles to himself as he scans the calendar, his finger moving along the dates as if he’s looking for something.

“I’m free next Saturday if you’re willing to do this again,” he says, turning around to glance at Dan.

A little startled by the suddenness of the request, it takes Dan a moment to nod. “Alright, uh, sure. What time?”

“Hm,” Phil hums to himself, considering it. He bends over to look through a notebook on the desk, and Dan is definitely not looking at his ass. Okay, maybe he takes a peek. Or two. Or maybe he just stares. “I have a list of ideas, give me a second,” he says, offering Dan a smile over his shoulder.

Dan nods, clearing his throat and pretending he’s examining the furniture. “I meant to tell you earlier, but I really like your flat. It’s cozy,” he says. His voice sounds awkward, even to himself. He’s genuine in his compliment, though. The decor is a lot brighter than he’d go for, and there doesn’t seem to be any cohesive theme, but he appreciates the bursts of personality he sees in every item.

“Thanks,” Phil says, turning to face him with a grin. “It’s taken me a while to accumulate all this junk, but it’s mostly sentimental.”

Dan cracks a smile at that. “That’s sweet. I’m not very sentimental myself, actually.”

Phil’s smile cracks a little at that. He recovers well, and manages to laugh. “My mum says I’m a hoarder, but I actually think I got it from her.”

“Maybe don’t tell her that.”

“Yeah, maybe not.” Phil grins genuinely. “So, I’ve got some… er… well, some other shots I want to get.” He bites his lips as if he’s embarrassed.

Dan can’t help it. His mind takes a sharp turn for the gutter. “What kind of shots?”

Phil raises a hand and scratches the back of his neck. Dan stares at the way the tendons in his arms flex. It’s unacceptably attractive. “Well… Please don’t think I’m creepy for this, I swear I was going to get someone else to do it, but if you’re willing… My series would look more cohesive with the same model in every shot.”

Dan rolls his eyes now. The beating around the bush thing isn’t cute anymore. “Spit it out, bub. What do you want me to do? Pose nude?”

“No!” Something panicked arises in Phil’s eyes, but it’s replaced by something like consideration, clouded with something akin to guilt. “Er… Well, not entirely.” He bites his lip at this, staring at Dan like he’s waiting for him to run.

Crossing his arms, Dan quirks a brow, waiting. “So?”

“Well, it’s like… The theme I’m trying to work with is intimacy, but like from different angles. We, uh… For the assignment we were told to pick a sort of abstract or misunderstood concept, and research what we can to come up with a photo series that shows the deeper understanding of it. And uh, I went with intimacy.” His face is pink, and his gaze darts around the room in a nervous way Dan hasn’t witnessed yet.

Dan considers what this means for himself for a moment. He knows what he considers intimacy to be, which is basically sex and the things that go with being intimate before and after that. He can’t pretend he isn’t interested in what Phil wants to do with this concept, and honestly, after today, he feels comfortable enough that maybe he wouldn’t mind a little nude shoot. That might change due to his ever changing self-consciousness but he’s not totally opposed to it right now.

Phil must misunderstand his silence to mean he’s considering saying no. That thought’s laughable to Dan, at this point. “If you’re not comfortable, or if it’s something else, that’s totally fine! I mean, if you just don’t want to waste your time, I can pay you? But if you’re uncomfortable then-”

“I’ll do it.”

Phil stops talking. He blinks. Then, “What?”

Dan shrugs, an almost giddy feeling seeping into his chest. He tucks his hands into his pockets. “I said I’ll do it. I mean I reckon if you were gonna murder me, you would’ve done it by now. And I’m not too fussed about posing nude, but…” He’s not sure if what he’s about to say is obvious or not, but… “I’m… homosexually inclined, if you will.”

There’s a heavy silence. Phil blinks at him, twice. Then, he promptly bursts into giggles. Dan’s not impressed by that.

“Sorry, I’m not- homosexually inclined? Is that what we’re calling it these days? God, I’m getting old.” Phil laughs again, clutching his belly and tossing his head back with the force of it.

Dan’s fight-or-flight response is hovering on the edge of a knife, waiting to see if he’s going to have to protect himself from this situation somehow. He’s never actually had anyone start laughing in his face when he told them he was gay, but he reckons maybe he did say it in an odd way. Still, it was almost unsettling to see the soft look on Phil’s face once his giggles have subsided.

“I am too, by the way. Homosexually inclined,” Phil repeats the phrasing and smirks. Dan immediately relaxes. “That’s the only way I’ll ever come out to anyone ever again, so thank you for that.”

Dan rolls his eyes but pantomimes tipping a hat. “Happy to be of service.” Now that their truths are out in the open, he’s more relaxed, but also just that much more uneasy. Before, Phil was just this fit guy taking photos of him that Dan could quietly pine after and assume about. Now… now he knows for sure. And that scares the hell out of him. “So, Saturday?” Dan asks, clearing his throat to clear some of the tension in the room.

Phil nods, a familiar excited glint reappearing in his eyes. “Yeah, say… five-ish? The lighting is better when the sun’s going down.”

“Sure.” Dan takes this as his invitation to leave and heads back to the front door. Phil follows after him and stands by while Dan tugs his shoes back on. “Anything particular you’d like me to wear?” He doesn’t mean to flirt, but he can’t help but put on a certain tone of voice. He’s only human.

If Phil’s bothered by the obvious flirtation, he has a funny way of showing it. Smirking, he crosses his arms and leans against the wall beside him, his eyes raking over Dan’s body in a way that nearly makes him shiver. “If you’ve got a light colored sweater or something, that would work.” He tilts his head, considering for a moment. “And the Calvins are a nice touch, as well.”

Dan can’t help but smirk back, as if he knows what they’re doing here. He doesn’t, not really. “Why, reckon I’m gonna be back down to my pants for you?”

Phil stares him straight in the eyes as he nods. “Yeah, I reckon so.”

This does make Dan shiver. He can’t help it. His skin is suddenly feeling a little tacky, his clothes clinging a little too closely to his skin. “Right,” he mumbles, clearing his throat after. “See you Saturday?”

The grin on Phil’s face takes any of the previous heat away, but it leaves Dan warm in an entirely different way. “Saturday. I’ll see you then, Dan. Be safe.”

Dan offers a little wave as he steps out the door. He forces himself to take a deep breath before getting any further, processing what he’d just agreed to. Spending an evening with a very attractive, also gay man, taking perhaps racy photos.

God, Dan was so fucked.

~~~

Dan has counted down the days until Saturday, unashamedly. There’s no one but himself to shame him for his weird crush, and for now, he’s not going to beat himself up about it. That’s probably most definitely subject to change, he realizes once he’s standing at Phil’s door on Saturday evening, wearing black ripped jeans and a light tannish Yeezy sweater he’d spent way too much money on. He’s a little early, since they’d agreed on five, but Dan doesn’t actually think Phil will be all that bothered about it, honestly. At least, he sincerely hopes he isn’t.

Dan: im outside let me in

Phil: you should’ve sent the meme

Dan: ?

Dan hears the door click the same time his phone buzzes in his hand. He opens the door with one hand while his other clicks on the meme. He snorts when he sees it, having forgotten all about the Eric Andre meme, but this was certainly an appropriate moment to use it. Since he’s literally in the same building as Phil, Dan doesn’t bother typing out a response, pocketing his phone and making his way up to Phil’s flat.

Phil’s quick to open the door after Dan’s knocked, and Dan smiles automatically upon seeing his face. He’s not wearing glasses this time, and his hair is in an almost perfect quiff. Dan very much wants to touch it, but he knows that’s definitely not appropriate. Phil looks incredibly cozy right now, wearing a grey sweater and black skinny jeans.

“Hi,” Phil says, his voice sweet.

Dan can’t help the stupid grin on his face, stretching at his cheeks and probably caving his dimple. “Hi, yourself.”

He doesn’t have a chance to ask to come inside, as Phil’s suddenly shifting closer, his hand coming up to Dan’s face. Dan sucks in a sharp breath, heart beating out of rhythm. Whatever he’s expecting to happen isn’t Phil’s intention, apparently, as Dan’s surprised when he feels Phil’s finger sink into his dimple. “Hello to this part of you, specifically.”

It takes him a moment to process the disappointment he feels that Phil didn’t do something else, but then he’s just thrilled that Phil is touching his face so casually. Then, he hears what he said. Laughing, Dan swats his hand away. “Oh, fuck off.”

Phil grins at him. “What? It’s cute. Hello, there… Derek!”

Dan blinks. “Derek?”

Phil’s finger comes back up to gently dip into the concave space on Dan’s face. “Derek the dimple.”

“You’re really odd,” Dan muses. Phil’s face twists at this, and Dan smiles before stepping through the door beside him. “It’s cute, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t wait for a reaction, walking over to where Phil keeps his shoes and toeing his trainers off. He tugs his coat off as well, looking around for somewhere to put it that doesn’t clutter some of Phil’s space.

“I’ll get it,” Phil says, coming to the rescue. He grabs the coat from Dan and leads the way into the lounge, the sound of the front door shutting behind them echoing into the room. “Have you eaten?” Phil asks, his back turned to Dan as he goes to hang Dan’s coat genty over a chair.

“No, I figured I’d eat later when I leave.” Dan goes to sit on the sofa, glancing around the room casually to see if anything’s changed since he was here last week.

Phil nods, but chews his bottom lip hesitantly. “Do you like pizza?”

Dan quirks a brow at this and tries not to smirk. “Are you trying to buy me dinner, Phil Lester?”

To his credit, Phil doesn’t seem very embarrassed by this. His eyes dart away but ultimately come back to Dan’s face, searching. “I guess so. If you’ll let me.”

Clearing his throat to hide the way he’s actually very pleased by this, Dan nods, following it with a noncommittal shrug. “Well, if you insist.”

Phil laughs, moving to his desk and grabbing his laptop. He returns to the sofa, dropping beside Dan and opening his laptop. “Domino’s okay?”

Dan nods and shifts on the sofa, tucking his feet up and leaning over to watch Phil order their food. “Have you tried the Sizzler?”

He realizes how close they are now when Phil turns his head and their eyes meet, mere inches apart. Phil has a lovely, surprised smile on his face. “The Sizzler is literally my favorite.”

This draws a pleased smile on Dan’s lips. “Yeah? You’ve got good taste, then.”

Phil nods. “It’s got just enough toppings to mask the flavor of the cheese, it’s great.”

Dan blinks. “Sorry, why would you actually want to mask the cheese? The cheese is the best part!”

Phil’s nose crinkles adorably as he turns back to the screen, clicking around on the order page. “I’m lactose intolerant, cheese just doesn’t really suit me.”

“Huh,” Dan hums. “I guess it’s good that mozzarella cheese basically just tastes of air, then.”

A dainty white hand comes up to rest over Phil’s chest as he mock-swoons. “You understand me,” he sighs.

Dan grins. He’s got the inexplicable urge to rest his head on Phil’s shoulder, but he refrains. Phil finishes up their order and closes his laptop, setting it on the coffee table in front of them before leaning back. His head rolls to the side and he blinks up at Dan adorably. Dan takes this moment to reach forward and poke Phil’s cheek, much like he did earlier to Dan’s dimple.

“So, pizza then photoshoot?” Dan inquires, the soft silence overwhelming him.

Phil nods. Then shrugs, which is a very mixed-signal sort of gesture, Dan thinks. “Well, probably pizza and photoshoot, really.”

“What?”

Without answering, Phil stands, going over to his desk and grabbing a notebook. He glances around until he finds a pen, then rejoins Dan on the sofa. “Right, so, the photo series has four parts to it, representing the four types of intimacy. So I figured today we could work on the first part.”

Dan nods, as if he completely understands this. He doesn’t. “Alright. So what’s the first part?”

Phil flips some pages in the notebook until he reaches one with “Experiential” at the top. Dan glances at this word, then back to Phil, then back to the page. Phil must notice his confusion, as he laughs under his breath before handing the notebook over. “I tried to write a short explanation, but basically it’s like intimacy in doing mundane activities. Like… I don’t know, playing video games together, or doing an art project, or something.”

“Right…” Dan nods slowly. “So, are we going to do an art project together?” He’s half-kidding. Half, because he’s not very artistic but he actually likes the idea of doing something creative and fun with Phil, who seems to be the human embodiment of those ideas.

“No, although that probably would’ve been a good idea,” Phil says, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “I actually thought we could play some video games or play a board game or something?”

Dan nods. “Sure, I’m always down to play video games. I should warn you though, I didn’t have any friends until uni, so I’ve had lots of time to get really good at pretty much every video game.”

There’s something fleetingly sad in Phil’s gaze, but he recovers with a laugh that warms Dan’s heart and has him smiling. “We’ll see about that.”

~~~

“Fucking fuck fuck!” Dan screams, his thumb aching from how tightly he’s holding the button to steer. “Get out of my ass!” he screeches at Phil.

Phil cackles from beside him, his kart closing in on Dan’s. “Stop shouting that! I have neighbors, you idiot!”

Dan makes a frustrated grunting noise when Phil somehow manages to pass him and cross the finish line first, a string of curses leaving his mouth as Phil squeals with joy beside him. Ever the petulant child, Dan throws the switch joy-con towards Phil, who yelps. Dan pitches to the side, letting out a frustrated noise against the sofa cushion. “You’re the worst,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the fabric.

“What was that? I can’t hear you over the sound of me winning,” Phil taunts smugly.

Sitting up with a huff, Dan sends Phil a glare, only to startle when the camera flashes. He wants to be annoyed, but he can’t, not when he agreed to this impromptu shoot. And Phil’s been doing this for the past two hours since they finished their pizza and started playing Mario Kart, so if Dan was going to have a problem with it, he probably should have said so before now. He doesn’t actually, really. It’s always a little surprising, and it usually catches him off-guard since he’s rarely expecting it when it happens, but seeing Phil smile down at the camera every time he takes a photo makes it worth it.

“Rematch?” Phil asks, prodding Dan’s thigh with his joy-con, setting the camera down on the coffee table where it’s been residing for the majority of the evening. There’d been a couple times when Phil had gone to the kitchen under the pretense of getting something, only to surprise Dan by taking photos of him from behind the sofa. Dan doubts that those are any good, considering there’s probably nothing in shot but his unruly hair and the tv, but this is Phil’s project, so who is he to judge?

Dan rolls over so he’s on his back and drops his legs onto Phil’s lap, smiling when Phil begins rubbing his calves over his jeans. Whatever concept of personal space that existed hours ago is completely gone now, as both of them have taken to casual touches at almost any opportunity. Dan’s drowning in the feeling of this casual, friendly intimacy, and he idly wonders if that might be one of the themes for what Phil’s working on. “Depends, what time is it?”

Phil leans over to wake his phone up. “It’s a few minutes till eight,” he replies. He’s got an odd look on his face as he looks away from Dan before speaking again. “Why, got a hot date?”

This is one of those incredibly laughable things that Phil has said, and Dan treats it accordingly, dropping his head back to let out a cackle. “Bub, tonight you were the hot date.” He’s pleased by the surprised smile on Phil’s face. Dan’s cheeky for a moment and lifts his leg up to rub his foot against Phil’s thigh. “But no, I’ve just got revising to do. Exams coming up soon and the like.”

Phil doesn’t look particularly pleased by this, but nods in understanding. “Okay. Do you need to go home now?” His voice sounds just on the edge of disappointed, and Dan almost hates the way that makes him feel like he’s flying.

“I mean… I probably should. Why? Got other plans for me?” He smirks as he says it, obviously flirting.

Phil’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes this time. He shrugs, looking down at where his hands rest on Dan’s legs. “No, not really. I just like having you around.”

The naked honesty startles Dan into silence. He knows very few people who can tolerate him, let alone who actually enjoy his company, so this coming from Phil… Well, it’s a lot for Dan’s emotionally damaged brain to take in. After taking a moment to collect himself, he knocks his knee against Phil’s chest to prompt eye contact. Phil’s eyes are pools of blue and flecks of gold and Dan just knows he’s got a stupidly soft smile on his face as he speaks.

“I like being around you too, spork.”

Phil grins at this. He leans closer, just enough to sink his finger into Dan’s dimple. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

Dan nods, making no move to get off the sofa. “When do you want to work on the rest of the photos?”

There’s a shadow of something hurt on Phil’s face, but it’s gone so quickly Dan figures he imagined it. “You know, I’d like to hang out sometimes… Like, we don’t have to just work on that everytime we see each other, yeah?” He sounds nervous.

“Right,” Dan says slowly. It’s not that he hadn’t considered this, but he hadn’t gone so far as to assume Phil would actually want to do that. “Well, when’s the project due?”

“It’s not due until the end of December, so yeah… we’ve got time to work on that. I just…” Phil clears his throat as he looks away. He’s absentmindedly tugging on a thread on Dan’s jeans, and Dan wonders if he’s going to manage to pull it off completely. “We’re friends, yeah?”

An awkward laugh escapes Dan at that. He’s positive he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt on Phil’s face this time, but he doesn’t know what to make of it. “Yeah, Phil, of course we are. And sure, we can hangout whenever you want. In fact, what about tomorrow? I need to get some homework done, but we can meet up at the cafe for lunch?”

Phil smiles at this, a proper one with his tongue poking through his teeth. Dan melts at the sight. “Sure, okay, yeah. I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then,” Dan says, his voice mostly teasing. He leaves his words hanging in the air between them, open to whatever interpretation that Phil might want to give them.

“A date,” Phil echoes, nodding and looking down at where his hand is resting on Dan’s leg. “I guess I’ll let you get home, then.”

Even though Dan knows he needs to go, he doesn’t like the idea of actually doing it. Still, he can’t overstay his welcome, even if Phil does enjoy having him around. Besides, he needs to get home and take his meds before he goes to bed anyway. He drags his legs off Phil’s lap and stands, stretching his arms up above his head to give them some relief. They’d been lounging on the sofa for hours now, and he desperately needed to get his blood circulating again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Dan says on a yawn, dropping his hand to ruffle Phil’s hair. If Phil’s bothered by the gesture, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah.” He stands and follows Dan to the door, watching him as he gets ready to leave. “Oh, here,” Phil says suddenly, spinning around and stepping back into the lounge, returning with Dan’s coat in his hand. He holds it out and gestures for Dan to turn around. Dan does so, but he rolls his eyes as if he’s not secretly pleased by the gesture.

When Dan turns around, there’s a soft, fond look on Phil’s face. Dan wants to kiss him. He wants to so, so badly, but there’s still that voice in his head, reminding him that Phil isn’t interested in him in that way. So instead, he lifts his hand in a little two-fingered salute, cringing at himself as soon as he does it. “See you tomorrow, then, Philly.”

“Goodnight, Dan. Be safe going home.” The repeated sentiment stirs something warm in Dan’s chest.

“Goodnight,” Dan echoes softly as the door closes behind him.

~~~

Dan sits in the cafe, his laptop open on the table in front of him. He’s a few paragraphs into an essay about a topic he doesn’t care about and hardly remembers, his cursor blinking at him condescendingly. If the other two or three customers weren’t present, he’d thump his head on the table in anger, barista be damned. It’s the same barista that served him and Phil that night a couple weeks ago, Dan realizes, so they probably wouldn’t be surprised if Dan just started acting off his rocker.

He’s mid-thought about all the situations this barista has probably had to see, wondering to himself if she’s ever had to handle a mental breakdown, which then steers him onto the thought path of wondering if that’s what’s actually happening to him right now or if he’s overreacting. His train of thought is completely thrown off the track when he hears a voice as someone settles on the seat in front of him.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale,” Phil says, his face morphed into one of concern. He pushes a hand through his slightly disheveled quiff, helping it a little bit but mostly just giving it a more purposefully tousled look.

Dan blinks at him. “What would you do if I said I was having a mental breakdown?” he blurts unthinkingly.

Phil raises an eyebrow at him, looking surprised but not as confused as Dan expected him to. He leans forward, folding his arms on the table and resting his weight against them. It’s a good look, Dan thinks to himself idly. He’s wearing a pink and purple hoodie, and his black-framed glasses. He looks like a snack, if Dan’s completely honest. “Are you?” He asks, breaking Dan out of his cycle of inappropriate thoughts.

Sighing, Dan leans over and rests his head against the table, staring blearily up at Phil. “No? I mean… I don’t know, honestly. I don’t guess so.” He punctuates it with a shrug, which just results in him bumping his shoulder into the table. It stings.

Phil smiles down at him like he’s not bothered at all by Dan’s odd mood. It’s nice. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, sweet and considerate as ever.

Dan shrugs again. His shoulder aches now. He sits up with an exasperated groan. “I just feel like I’m wasting what’s left of my stupid life sat here working on a paper I don’t give two fucks about, but I can’t drop out because my parents would kill me. Not that I care what they think, but they’re helping me pay for a flat and stuff, so I can’t exactly do what I want, can I? I just… I want a different life. This one sucks.” He hadn’t realized how worked up he was until he’s finished, but now that he’s done with his rant, he’s left panting and maybe there’s a wetness in his voice that wasn’t there before. He clenches his eyes shut tightly. He’s not going to cry in front of his new friend, in the middle of a goddamn coffee shop. He isn’t.

The feeling of a hand brushing against his own has his eyes snapping open, staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil offers him a sympathetic smile. Dan hates pity, but he doesn’t feel like this is Phil’s intention, somehow. “Do you want to do something to take your mind off of all that?” Phil asks him sweetly.

Dan’s inclined to say yes. He’d love a break, even if it’s not for long, but he knows he needs to finish this godforsaken essay if he has a chance in hell of passing this class. “I can’t. I need to finish this essay.” His voice is bitter.

“Okay. Do you want me to leave so you can focus?” Phil doesn’t sound thrilled at the idea, but Dan appreciates the gesture.

“No, I can work with you here. If you don’t, you know, mind that I’m not going to be very entertaining.”

Phil laughs, his tongue poking out in Dan’s favorite smile. “I think I can entertain myself. I’ve got some things I can work on while you’re doing that. I’m a little behind some of my projects for work, so this would probably be a good time to finish them.”

Dan really needs to focus on his assignment, but the mention of Phil’s job piques his interest. He hadn’t really mentioned that before, although Dan had already deduced that he probably had some kind of job, considering he’s a part-time student living in a flat by himself. Unable to quell his curiosity, Dan props his head in his hand, watching Phil pull out a laptop and a notebook from his backpack. “What kind of projects?” He asks.

“Some videos to edit. Mostly ads and things like that. I think I’ve got a motivational video and a music video, too.” Phil makes a grimace at that, but Dan’s only about a thousand times more curious now.

Feigning nonchalance, Dan nods and glances at his own laptop. He’s got a little over a thousand words and he’s got to have twenty-five hundred to meet the assignment requirements. But, it’s not due for another week, so surely he can spare a few moments of watching Phil work, right?

Whether he can or not, he decides he’s going to.

“Can I watch you edit?” he asks, his voice unintentionally small.

Phil looks surprised when he glances up, but he’s quick to nod. “Yeah, of course. Um…” He points vaguely to the space on Dan’s side of the booth. “Mind if I move over there?”

Dan grins and moves his own backpack out of the way, clearing a spot for Phil to put his own things. “Be my guest,” he says, mocking a terrible French accent.

After moving his things over, Phil seems to remember that they were originally only meeting to have lunch, and yet neither of them have any food. “Do you want me to go grab us something to eat?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Dan reaches into his pocket for his wallet, but Phil’s hand on his wrist stops him.

“I’ll pay, I asked you out, remember?” Phil’s got a cheeky grin on his face as he stands from the table. “What do you want?”

Dan is very nearly blushing at how chivalrous Phil is being, but he clears his throat in an effort to control himself. “A strawberry lemonade, please.”

Phil quirks an eyebrow. “Okay, what else? What do you want to eat?”

It’s probably just the usual bout of nerves, but the idea of food is not very appealing to Dan in this moment. His stomach turns at the idea of eating something, and he’s pretty sure that it’s written all over his face. “I’m actually not very hungry right now,” he says awkwardly.

There’s a flash of confusion on Phil’s face, but he manages a slow nod. “Okay. So just the strawberry lemonade?”

Dan nods. “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Phil says, flashing a smile. “Be right back, then.”

Dan tries not to watch Phil as he makes his way to the counter to order, but his attempt is probably mediocre at best. His eyes stray from him for a few seconds at a time, but generally his gaze is casually sweeping over Phil’s body, appreciating the way Phil’s jeans fit around his ass. As soon as that thought catches up with him, he looks away, embarrassed. He’s not about to sit here ogling his friend while they're out for lunch, even if they have held up a rather flirtatious banter since meeting.

“Here you go,” Phil says a few moments later, setting a fairly large pink drink in front of Dan. He’s got something pink as well, but it’s a deeper, more magenta shade than Dan’s. “I also got you a pistachio muffin, for later, if you decide you’re hungry.” Phil places a paper bag down, and Dan stares at him in surprise.

“Oh… Thank you,” Dan stutters out.

Phil shrugs, moving to sit down back beside Dan. He situates his drink on the right side of his laptop before reaching for the paper bag. He takes out a bagel, sitting it on a napkin and closing the bag back up, scooting it towards Dan. He glances at him, appearing a little startled to find Dan already staring back at him. Before Dan can apologize for being creepy, Phil smiles and points to the bag. “Take it home, if you don’t want it now. You’ll be hungry eventually.”

Dan can’t say no to that, obviously, so he just nods mutely. “Alright, sure.”

Looking pleased with himself, Phil opens up his laptop and clicks around until he’s got a video editing program loading up, switching back to his email to click on the file attached. “So, usually clients just email me and after we agree on rates and such, I put the things I’m sent in folders that are in order of due date. I’m a little behind, so I haven’t organized these yet, but I don’t have that many to work on, so it’s not that big of a deal,” Phil explains as he opens his files and renames the thing he’s downloading.

Nodding along, Dan reaches blindly for his drink, his nose wrinkling when he takes a sip. Glancing down, he realizes he’d picked up Phil’s by mistake. “Mate, what is this?” he asks teasingly, gesturing to the cup when Phil looks at him in confusion.

“It’s dragon fruit lemonade,” Phil says defensively.

“It’s terrible,” Dan decides, setting it down and reaching for his own instead.

“It is not! It’s really tasty,” Phil argues, snatching his drink and taking a long, exaggerated sip as if to prove his point.

Dan scrunches his nose, definitely not agreeing with that assessment. “Try mine,” he offers, holding his cup out for Phil to take a sip from.

Phil rolls his eyes but leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw and taking a little sip. Dan gives him a look, and he rolls his eyes again before sucking a little more into his mouth. Swallowing and leaning back, Phil narrows his eyes, looking to be seriously contemplating the taste. “Well, it’s not terrible, but mine’s just more exotic and fancy.”

“You should stick to editing and photography, bub. You’d make a terrible lemonade critic,” Dan says solemnly.

There’s an adorable pout on Phil’s lips as he jokingly digs his elbow into Dan’s side. “Rude,” he mumbles, focusing on his laptop again.

Dan grins, and leans closer, tentatively dropping his chin onto Phil’s shoulder to watch him work. Phil’s eyes dart to meet his, and Dan offers him a saccharine-sweet smile. Phil makes a big show out of rolling his eyes at this, but ultimately he focuses on his work, quietly talking Dan through the process as he edits clips and adds sound when appropriate.

Eventually, Dan goes back to working on his essay, but they stay close, talking when there’s a lull in creativity or when Dan just cannot take a moment more of affidavits and case files. Phil sometimes prods him and asks him to watch a section of the video he’s working on, asking if the transitions are smooth to an untrained eye, and Dan likes helping when he can. It’s nice, he realizes, working beside someone even when they’re both working on their own separate projects. It’s copacetic.

“I’m so tired of this,” Dan groans, thumping his head back against the booth. It makes a cracking sound and he winces, a sharp pain spreading across his skull. “Ow,” he whines.

Phil glances at him, concerned. “You alright?”

Dan nods, rubbing the back of his head. He gets a cheeky idea and pouts at Phil. “Kiss it better?” he simpers.

Phil doesn’t even blink. He rolls his eyes but nods, gesturing for Dan to get closer. “Turn your head, you little troll.”

Surprised that Phil’s actually catering to this whim, it takes Dan a moment to do as he’s told. He does, though, turn his head to look away, his hand still covering the spot he’d injured. He feels Phil take his hand and move it out of the way, and then he feels a gentle kiss pressed to the tender spot. His veins flood with warmth, so suddenly it causes a shiver down his spine. There’s no way Phil doesn’t notice it.

Luckily, he doesn’t comment on it. “Does it hurt badly?” Phil asks sweetly, his dainty fingers coming up to gently skim Dan’s scalp.

“No,” Dan says faintly. “Just tender.”

Phil hums. “Poor thing,” he mocks. He’s still stroking Dan’s hair, but Dan turns his head anyway, pouting when he sees the smirk on Phil’s face.

“I’m injured, and here you are, taking the piss.”

“Sorry. Maybe next time you’ll tone down the theatrics,” Phil suggests.

Dan huffs. “I was a theatre kid, it’s in my blood.”

Whatever he said seems to strike Phil as interesting, as he tilts his head and considers Dan, a thoughtful look on his face. “Why don’t you do theatre anymore?” Phil asks, completely out of left field.

Dan lets out a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t know. I just… Don’t?”

Phil nods. He shrugs, then, turning back to his laptop. “I think you should do some auditions. You’ve got an actual talent for it, I think you’d do really well.”

This throws Dan for a loop. He wasn’t expecting Phil to say anything like that, not at all. He knew he was usually dramatic, but it was mainly in a funny kind of way, he never thought about getting seriously involved with theatre now that he was an adult. It’s… not a bad idea, though. He’s not entirely opposed, at least.

“Maybe,” he says noncommittally. He actually really likes the idea of getting involved in it, now that it’s been presented to him as an option. He doesn’t plan on telling Phil that yet, though, no matter how much he genuinely likes him. “Can you read over this paragraph and tell me what you think?”

~~~

The days and weeks pass by in a flurry after that day in the cafe. Dan wasn’t aware how much free time he really had until he started spending it with Phil. There was hardly a single day that passed when he didn’t spend time with Phil, either at Phil’s flat, the cafe, or even the library, which is where they found themselves now. Dan had a research project due in two days, and in true Dan fashion, he’d procrastinated it until the last possible moment. Phil had wanted to work on his photo series some more today, and when Dan said he had to finish this project, Phil said that it was perfect for what he needed.

So there they were, sat across from each other in the library, Dan hard at work on his stupid research project while Phil scribbled in a notebook and occasionally took photos of Dan. Sometimes Phil would stand up without saying a word, only to walk around and take shots from different angles. Dan was genuinely trying to submerge himself in his project, so most of the time he wasn’t even aware of what Phil was doing, too caught up in his own head to pay too much attention.

If Phil had any complaints about Dan’s focus being on his own work, he didn’t say. Sometimes he would say Dan’s name, snapping a photo as soon as Dan looked up at him, but mostly he just stayed quiet, working on his own things while Dan did the same. They’d done this a lot, when Dan or Phil had work they needed to get done but they wanted to spend time together. It was nice, working in a shared space on their own things, although sometimes if they were at Phil’s flat they’d get distracted by food or anime or video games. Still, even that was nice, as Phil was lovely to be around regardless of what they were doing.

They’d been at the library for probably close to three hours now, and Dan was reaching his limit. He had actually gotten a lot done, but his vision was starting to go fuzzy and he couldn’t concentrate on what he was reading. It didn’t help that he was basically starving, and his head felt like it was full of cotton. Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone else, he closes his laptop and folds his arms over it, resting his head on his forearms and closing his eyes. He hears a shift in front of him and a few moments later he feels a body in the seat next to his, a hand coming to stroke his back in soft sweeps.

“You okay?” Phil’s soft voice whispers.

Dan nods, not opening his eyes. “Just tired. Can we be done for today?”

Phil laughs quietly. “Yeah, bub, we can be done. Do you want to come back to mine?”

Wordlessly, Dan nods again. Phil hums a confirming noise before going to gather up his things. It takes Dan a moment, but eventually he sits up and does the same, shoving his laptop in his bag along with one of his law textbooks. Phil takes one of the books he’d been using and disappears to put it back for him, and just the thought of the gesture warms Dan up from the inside.

It’d been a little over a month since they met and nothing had happened between them yet. Not that he didn’t love just being Phil’s best friend; he did, so much. But… He wouldn’t keep lying to himself, he was interested in Phil romantically. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap between friendship and more, though, not when he had no solid proof that Phil felt the same. Other than some assumptions that Phil liked him due to some of his behaviors, Dan had nothing to go on. And, he reasoned, someone can be nice to you without wanting to date you, and he can’t fault Phil for being a good person, even if it threw his emotions for a loop every time.

“Ready to go?” Phil asks, suddenly standing beside the table, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

Dan nods, dragging himself out of his melancholy thoughts in order to stand and grab his own backpack. He follows Phil outside, sending the librarian a polite smile as they pass her. He’s not really paying attention to where he’s going, trusting Phil to lead them safely, so when his body collides into something solid, a squeak falls out of his mouth without his permission.

Phil glances over his shoulder at Dan, a smile on his face. “Sorry,” he apologizes for his abrupt stop that caused Dan to run into him. He gestures outside. “It’s pouring,” he informs him.

Fuck. Dan could honestly cry right now, in a totally not dramatic way. He’s just had a mentally draining day, and to see that on top of that it’s pouring down rain, well, it’s not his favorite thing ever, that’s for sure. He’s highly aware of the fact that his hair is tediously straightened and pushed up into a sort-of fluffy quiff that could never look anywhere near as good as Phil’s does. But he knows that this rain will very much ruin that illusion, and he’s hyper aware of the fact that Phil has yet to see his curly hair.

So, yeah, he could cry.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks, that same soft voice he always uses when he thinks Dan’s upset about something. “It probably won’t rain for long, we can wait it out, if you want,” he offers.

Dan’s inclined to say yes just so Phil doesn’t see his natural hair, but his growling stomach and borderline exhaustion demands that he find a soft sofa, preferably Phil’s, as soon as possible. “No, it’s fine,” Dan mumbles. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get to yours and order some food, right?”

Phil is definitely aware that Dan is not feeling right, but he graciously doesn’t call him out on it now. Dan knows that will not last, but he’s grateful for it nevertheless. “Of course. Come on, watch your step, it’s probably slippery.” Phil reaches for Dan’s hand probably without thinking, and Dan lets him take it. Phil’s hand is cool to the touch, despite the fact that it wasn’t all that cold inside the library, and Dan absently remembers something he’d said about a week ago when they were watching Bake Off at Phil’s flat.

“Dan, c’mere!” Phil whined, reaching for Dan’s shirt and tugging him into a sort-of-but-not-quite cuddle on the sofa. Dan went easily, allowing Phil to pull him in, completely unbothered. If anything, he was thrilled. Phil was a little tipsy, but Dan was more than happy to oblige this whim, and he’d make sure Phil’s inebriation didn’t lead to anything they wouldn’t allow themselves to do sober. “You’re so warm,” Phil sighed, tucking his head into the crook of Dan’s neck. “Like a little space heater.”

The memory of that moment flashes back into Dan’s mind now, and he can’t help but squeeze Phil’s hand, trying to transfer some of his warmth to the other man’s chilled fingers. Phil glances back at Dan, but doesn’t pull his hand away. He squeezes back and turns to watch where they’re going, leading the way sure-footedly. Dan’s happy to let him.

~~~

The rain is relentless the whole way back to Phil’s flat, and both of them are shivering by the time they get inside. Phil’s all mumbled apologies as he heads to his bedroom, going to retrieve some dry clothes for them to change into. Dan waves him off as he goes, tugging his sopping shoes off and depositing them next to the door. He peels off his hoodie, leaving his t-shirt practically plastered to his chest. It’s a bad day for a white t-shirt, he realizes, seeing the way it’s practically transparent with water.

“I got you a hoodie and some pants. Do you want-” Phil stops, and Dan looks up at him, holding his dripping hoodie out sheepishly.

“Sorry, I don’t know where you want me to put this,” Dan apologizes, gesturing with the wet fabric.

Phil is very obviously checking him out right now, but Dan is very much pretending not to be affected by it in the least. “Uh… I’ll throw it in the wash for you,” he answers, his voice a little strained. He shakes his head, perhaps to clear it, then reaches out to hand Dan the little bundle of clothes in his hand. “I left a couple pairs of sweatpants out on the bed, you can just pick whatever you want to wear. I know you’re picky about your matching outfits or whatever,” Phil sounds a little bit more himself, punctuating his words with a teasing roll of his eyes.

Dan sticks his tongue out childishly, trading his hoodie for the dry clothes. “If I don’t care about my look, I’ll end up with fashion catastrophes like this!” He complains, gesturing wildly to Phil’s bright yellow emoji bottoms, which he’s paired with an old Friends t-shirt.

Huffing, Phil pushes him gently into the direction of his bedroom. “Go get changed, you absolute menace. I’ll order chinese.”

“Ooh, get me some egg rolls,” Dan calls back. He hears an exasperated sigh, but he grins, knowing Phil will order him all the egg rolls he wants. He loves that about him, among other things. He finds several pairs of sweatpants on the bed, and after a moment of consideration he chooses a pair of plain grey ones. Not that it matters, he reasons with himself, even as he double checks that the grey doesn’t clash with the offensive highlighter green of the hoodie he’s been given.

After changing into Phil’s clothes, Dan takes his wet clothes down the hall and deposits them in Phil’s washer. He hasn’t started it running yet, so Dan goes ahead and does it himself, humming quietly as he tosses a tide pod in and sets the water temperature. When he’s finished, he turns around, nearly having a heart attack when he sees Phil standing there, watching him with a small smile.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, you made me jump!” Dan nearly gasps, his hand flying up to clutch at his heart. “Why’re you creeping?” he asks, his voice bordering on whiny as he steps past him and goes to the lounge.

Phil giggles, like properly giggles, at that. “I wasn’t. You just didn’t hear me over your concert.”

Dan sends him a glare. “Don’t mock me, Lester.”

“I would never,” Phil promises, batting his eyelashes playfully. Dan doesn’t believe it for a second, but he rolls his eyes and drops onto the sofa, choosing to ignore him. “Your hair’s all wet,” he observes.

The reminder has Dan biting his lip and bringing his hands up to flatten it as much as he can. “I know,” he says sadly.

“Want me to get you a towel?” Phil offers.

When Dan shrugs, Phil takes this as permission and hauls himself off the sofa and disappears down the hall to the bathroom. Left alone, Dan takes a moment to look down at the hoodie he’s wearing now. It’s bright, bright green, a shade he normally wouldn’t be caught dead wearing, and it’s got the York University emblem on it. Dan vaguely remembers Phil saying he’d gone there, but it had been awhile since they’d talked about it, and Dan honestly didn’t have much reason to remember it. But, being wrapped in something so personal to Phil, who seemingly loved his university days, has Dan feeling warm and fuzzy and full of something that’s just a bit too close to something.

“Here,” Phil’s voice comes from beside him, and Dan looks up to see him holding a towel out for Dan as he sits down. The weight of the realization Dan’s just had, or what feels like a realization, leaves him immobile, staring dumbly at the towel like he doesn’t know what to do with it. “Want me to do it?” Phil offers, his voice dripping in sugar sweetness.

All Dan can do is nod numbly, but that’s all the permission Phil needs. He shifts to sit up on his knees, giving him a height advantage that normally Dan has between the two of them. He’s gentle as he rubs the towel over Dan’s hair, and Dan’s eyes are glued onto every shift in Phil’s expression. Phil seems to notice, his eyes dropping to study Dan’s face with a tender gaze. Carefully, slow enough that Dan could stop him if he wanted to, Phil shifts, moving one of his legs to the other side of Dan’s, properly straddling his lap when he settles.

“Dan,” Phil breathes out. The word sends shivers through Dan’s whole body. He’s warm all over, his chest a furnace of heat where his heart is frantically pumping to the whisper of his name leaving Phil’s lips. “Is this okay?”

Dan can’t breathe, he definitely can’t speak, so all he manages is a weak nod. Phil’s eyes search Dan’s, and there’s something cautious, unsure in his gaze. Dan hopes, he fucking prays that the same look isn’t mirrored in his own gaze, because god, he’s never been more sure about anything in his life. His hands, shaky as they are, come to rest gently at Phil’s hips. The touch startles Phil into shifting on his lap and Dan can’t help but drop his forehead to Phil’s shoulder with a soft groan.

“Sorry,” Phil laughs. His hand comes up to card through Dan’s curling hair, apparently dropping the pretense of drying it. “Your hair’s curly,” he notices, sounding surprised. This is not where Dan thought this was going at all. “I didn’t know your hair was curly.” He almost sounds offended.

Choking out a laugh at the ridiculous turn in conversation, Dan rolls his head to the side and stares incredulously up at Phil. “I know. That was intentional, believe me.”

Phil frowns at him. “It’s cute,” he says, his tone defensive.

Dan snorts. “For a hobbit, maybe.” He closes his eyes, relaxed in the way Phil pets his head gently.

“A very cute hobbit,” Phil insists. Dan feels his lips drag across his temple and he shivers again.

Pulling away, Dan looks up into Phil’s face and smiles at the adorable pout on his lips. And looking at that, Dan really doesn’t know that a stronger man could resist it. He leans in, but he remembers something important at the last second. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his lips a breath away from Phil’s.

There’s an audible gulp, and Dan readies himself for rejection. Phil’s lips part, and he knows, already, that it’s going to be a no, he could never be lucky to meet a guy who is both attractive and sweet and also gay and-

Two things happen at once.

Phil, for all his hesitation, breathes out a quiet, but certain, “yes.”

At the exact moment, there’s a jarring buzz, signalling the takeaway has arrived.

Dan has quite literally never been so full of disappointment.

They sit, frozen in the moment for just that- a moment. And then Phil’s sending him an apologetic smile, shifting to rise from Dan’s lap. Dan’s foolish hands latch onto his shirt, and Phil gently tugs them loose, a fleeting expression of sadness on his features. He hesitates, but then gestures to the door, backing away from the sofa. Dan’s certain his devastation is palpable.

“I’ll be right back.”

Dan can only watch him go. Whatever invisible wall was holding the waves of disappointment from crashing against the shore of Dan’s heart comes crumbling down the moment Phil disappears from view and Dan allows himself a moment to hurt for this missed opportunity. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he allows it to wash over him. It was in the moment, he’s certain. That was his specific moment, maybe the only moment he’ll get to act on his feelings. Fuck. Fuck it all, if that’s how this dissipates between them. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair and-

“Dan.” Phil’s voice is firm, assured. Dan barely has the energy to look at him, but when he does something passes over Phil’s face, a clear understanding of what Dan’s feeling in this moment. He doesn’t give Dan a chance to respond, setting the takeaway bag on the coffee table and immediately resuming his position on Dan’s lap.

Confused but not opposed, Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s waist, clutching the t-shirt in his fingers. Phil smiles down at him. It’s a sweet, affectionate thing. His hand comes up to rest on Dan’s cheek, his thumb brushing down and dipping into the dimple Phil’s got such an affinity for. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, repeating Dan’s own words.

Swallowing hard, Dan nods. “Yeah. Yeah, please.”

That’s all the permission Phil needs to lean in, framing Dan’s lips with his own. Dan’s hand comes up and rests on Phil’s wrist, his other still scrabbling for purchase against Phil’s side. He leans into the feeling of Phil’s lips on his, a soft give and take as they part and come back together several times, really just working out what the other likes. Phil’s not taking it further than the soft almost-open-mouth kisses that they’re sharing now, and Dan’s definitely okay with that.

After what probably isn’t more than five minutes, Phil gently presses a hand to Dan’s chest and slowly pulls away. His gaze is soft as he looks at Dan, his tongue absentmindedly swiping across his lips in a way that Dan thinks should be illegal. “Food, then… more of that?” Phil questions hopefully.

Dan nearly laughs. As if he wants literally anything else. “Absolutely more of that. The food can honestly go fuck itself right now, though, if I’m being honest.” Of course, his stomach decides that it’s an appropriate time to remind them how long it’s been since they’ve eaten, and they both glance down in surprise as it growls. Dan’s cheeks flush, while Phil cackles maniacally.

“Sorry, that was just- you tried- and then-” Phil is practically gasping for air, covering his mouth as he giggles. “Right. Let’s get some food in you, before you turn into the hulk or something.”

Dan pouts when Phil climbs off his lap and begins sorting out their food. “Rude, honestly.”

Phil hums, shrugging. “I bought your dinner, I reckon I can insist that you eat it,” he teases, grinning over his shoulder at Dan.

“Whatever, fine,” Dan says. He stands, gesturing to the kitchen. “Ribena?” He asks. He’s familiar enough with Phil’s kitchen that it doesn’t feel weird offering to go make their drinks.

“Wine, actually. There should be a bottle in the fridge from last time.” He doesn’t meet Dan’s eyes when he says this, but Dan’s secretly thrilled. They’d had a disagreement about whether or not you should chill wine before drinking it. Dan was pro-chill, and Phil was indifferent but insisted he didn’t have space in his refrigerator to keep a full bottle of wine. Much maneuvering later, Dan managed to fit in a smaller bottle of rose, much to his own delight.

“Right, some wine coming right up,” Dan says, affecting a heavily posh accent as he disappears into the kitchen.

As he’s pouring their drinks, the events of the last half hour finally hit him. He actually has to lower the bottle of wine to take a moment to process the fact that he’d just kissed his best friend. They’d fully made out, right there on Phil’s sofa. Dan manages to stifle his shocked laugh, because as thrilled as he is by this turn of events, he really doesn’t want Phil to hear him laughing to himself in his kitchen like some kind of idiot.

“A glass of rose, for you,” Dan announces as he comes back into the lounge.

Phil grins up at him, taking the drink with his nose raised up in the air. “Thank you, waiter,” he says, affecting a terrible posh accent.

Dan settles onto the sofa beside him, giving him a sideways glance. “Are you trying to mock me?”

There’s a sipping noise, and Phil offers a shrug as he smirks into his glass of wine. “Perhaps.”

“I do not talk like that.” He does.

Phil shrugs, setting his glass down. He looks back at Dan, tilting his head in a considering sort of way. “I reckon you kind of have some sort of Christopher Robin kinda vibe.”

Dan can’t help but dimple at him. “Winnie the Pooh was literally my favorite thing in the world when I was, like, six.”

“Really?” Phil asks. He sounds endeared. “That’s cute. You kinda look like Christopher Robin, too, actually.”

“I mean, right now I definitely look like a hobbit, not a cute animated character from a loveable children’s franchise, but thanks, I guess?”

Phil rolls his eyes at this, stuffing his mouth full of rice. He chews quickly, and as soon as he swallows he looks at Dan, his eyebrows furrowed in what looks like disappointment. “I really don’t like you talking trash about yourself. I think your hair is really cute.” Dan starts to protest and Phil raises a hand to stop him. “I know, but I’m just saying. You may not agree, but I just wanted you to know, that like, it’s a good look.”

Dan looks down at his food, his heart swooping as the words sink into his skin. He clears his throat, glancing over at Phil and nodding. “Right, well… thanks.”

There’s a smile on Phil’s face as he shrugs. He catches Dan off-guard, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Dan’s cheek. Dan’s face feels like it’s burning at the touch. “Netflix?”

~~~

It’s several hours later and the sun has set over the horizon, leaving a dusky light streaming in through the balcony door. Not that Dan is paying attention to the lighting right now. That’s the last thing on his mind, actually. Right now he’s sat in Phil’s lap, his mouth working fervently against Phil’s. Phil’s got his hands on Dan’s ass, and every now and then he squeezes gently, sending a shock of shivers down Dan’s spine. It’s so good, Dan is actually wondering why the hell they hadn’t tried this before.

Taking a breath, Dan pulls away, blinking blearily down at Phil. His hair is a mess from Dan’s hands running through it, and his lips are pink and slick with a mixture of their spit. He’s so goddamn perfect, Dan really wishes he had a camera.

With a laugh, he realizes he has access to a very nice camera right now. He twists his torso and reaches over to the coffee table, grabbing the very expensive and professional camera of Phil’s. He tinkers with it until he figures out how to turn it on, then he looks at Phil, raising his eyebrows in question. Phil studies him for a second but nods. Dan grins, lifting the camera up and taking what is probably a really clumsy and terrible shot of Phil’s face. He takes two more, and on the third, Phil reaches for Dan, sliding his hands up underneath his borrowed shirt.

“Oh!” Dan squeaks when Phil rubs his thumb over a nipple. Dan drops the camera, carefully, onto the cushion beside them. He sighs, dropping his head back as Phil leans in and latches his lips onto Dan’s neck.

He only kisses at first, then small nibbles follow. After a few moments, he tilts his head back and looks up at Dan with a smile. “Do you like this?” Phil asks, his voice incredibly sweet.

Dan laughs and nods, dropping a hand to run through Phil’s hair again. “God, yes. You can keep going. I really like it a lot.”

“Teeth?” Phil asks, scraping them gently across a patch of Dan’s skin as he says it.

A shiver runs over Dan’s spine, and his hand tightens in Phil’s hair. “Yes,” he breathes, barely holding in a moan.

Phil goes back to lavishing his neck in kisses, and now gentle bites that increase in intensity until Dan is a whining, throbbing mess, rocking his hips against Phil’s desperately. One of Phil’s hands comes down to squeeze his ass, and Dan just needs a little bit more, just a little, and he’ll get there.

“Fuck, Phil. I’m so close,” he pants, dropping his forehead against Phil’s shoulder. It makes it harder for Phil to access his neck, but Dan can’t take anymore of the torture. It’s too much.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Phil whispers in his ear.

Dan doesn’t even consider saying no. “Yes,” he breathes.

Phil gently guides him off his lap, leaving Dan standing in front of him as he makes quick work of pulling down Dan’s sweatpants. His blue eyes dance with mischief behind wisps of fallen hair as he takes Dan in the palm of his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the weeping head of his cock. “Is it weird to tell you that you’re just as beautiful here as you are everywhere else?” Phil whispers, his words dancing into the air between them.

Carefully, Dan drops a hand to Phil’s hair, brushing it back to see his eyes, unobstructed. “No. Not weird at all,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly strangled with emotion. Phil smiles up at him, and Dan’s so fucking gone.

The blowjob is one of the best he’s ever received. The awkwardness of being with a new person that way doesn’t claw through his ribs the way it normally does, he doesn’t try to hide from the way Phil holds his gaze as his cheeks hollow around Dan’s cock. He’s so… content, in Phil’s care, so unafraid of the way Phil handles him, sucking and wanking him with enthusiasm, as if they’ve done this a hundred times before. Dan’s whole body is on fire, and for every minute Phil works his mouth, he’s just that little bit closer to falling apart.

He tugs on Phil’s hair when he’s close. Phil blinks at him, maybe attempting a wink, but doesn’t stop his ministrations. Dan shivers. Pulling away for just a moment, Phil smacks his lips together and gazes up at Dan with something so heart-wrenchingly warm, Dan nearly looks away. “You can go in my mouth, if you want. I don’t mind the taste.”

Dan pets his hair. It’s ridiculously soft and smooth, just a bit greasy from going a little too long unwashed. Dan loves it. “Okay,” he murmurs. He gently guides Phil back to where he was, and Phil goes eagerly. Dan isn’t sure if it’s his enthusiastic approach to the task, or the way Phil’s eyes look, but when he falls over the edge, filling Phil’s throat with release, he feels the relief deep in his bones.

Phil neatly tucks Dan back into his pants before pulling his sweatpants up his legs, while Dan’s arms remain useless at his sides. He watches as Phil leans in, nuzzling his stomach before pressing a kiss to the waistband of the sweats, and Dan’s dizzy with the fresh wave of heat that courses through his body.

Rather than acting on his own sudden desire, Dan drops to his knees before the sofa, staring up at Phil and running his hands over his thighs. He’s impressed with Phil’s stamina, because despite being very obviously hard, he’s not touched himself this whole time. Phil stares down at Dan with such a sweet, easy grin, that Dan knows, he just knows that he can never go back from this. This feeling, the way Phil looks at him like he’s just put every star in the sky- Dan’s already addicted to it.

“Phil,” Dan breathes. He brings his hand that much closer to where Phil so desperately needs him. “Let me touch you.”

Phil kisses him. The angle should be awkward, with Dan knelt on the floor the way he is, but it’s nothing more than perfect. When they part, Phil sinks the pad of his thumb into Dan’s dimple. “Touch me,” he encourages.

The flutter of excitement in his stomach propels Dan forward, pushing gently on Phil’s shoulders so he’ll lean back, giving Dan space to work. Phil’s pajama bottoms, as disgustingly bright yellow as they might be, are loose and easy to work down Phil’s thighs. Dan’s patience expires there, however, and he makes no further move to remove them completely, instead shifting forward and tugging at the red Calvins that are so useless in concealing the shape of Phil.

“Fuck,” Dan whines as soon as they’re out of the way.

“Hm?” Phil inquires. His eyes are hooded when Dan looks up, and if he didn’t know any better, he might think Phil was drunk.

Dan swallows hard before leaning forward, giving a few little kitten licks to the head of Phil’s cock. “You’ve got a lovely cock. I thought you would.”

Phil groans. His hand catches in the mess of Dan’s drying hair. “How often have you thought about it?”

Dan pretends to consider this. “Enough,” he decides. Every day, his subconscious adds. He doesn’t give Phil a chance to respond, getting right down to business, stretching his lips around Phil and relishing in the weight on his tongue, the taste of him, the texture. All these things he loves about sucking cock, but attached to a person he loves even more.

The thought shocks him enough that he manages to accidentally gag himself.

“You alright?” Phil whispers, ever the considerate one. His hands are carding through Dan’s curls, and he’s got an awed look about him, as if he likes Dan’s hair like this, likes Dan like this.

Dan nods mutely. He has to pause, though, just so the thought bouncing around his head doesn’t do something reckless, like take a step out of his mouth. He presses a fleet of kisses to Phil’s thighs, counting them so that both thighs will get an equal amount of affection. When his head finally quiets, Phil’s growing soft.

“I’m sorry,” Dan murmurs. He presses his lips to the side of Phil’s cock and suckles. “My head was being loud. I needed a minute.”

Phil’s eyes could be screaming, the affection in them is that loud. “Take your time. If you’re uncomfortable, we can stop.”

Shaking his head, Dan offers him a grin. “Don’t get greedy, Lester. You’ve already shown me your willy, you might as well share it.”

Phil squeaks, his cheeks tinting with pink. He covers his face with his hands, peeking through the forest of fingers to blink at Dan. “Well, go on, then. You can… you know. As a treat.”

Dan giggles. He kisses Phil’s left thigh, then his right. Then he takes him back into his mouth, wrapping a hand around the base. One of Phil’s hands slips into Dan’s hair, but the other tangles with the fingers of Dan’s free hand. For every swirl of his tongue through Phil’s slit, Dan squeezes Phil’s fingers, and every time Dan drops to take him deeper, Phil tugs on his hair, a whispered apology falling from his lips every time.

“Close, Dan.” Phil sounds breathless, and Dan glances up at him, shivering at the sight of Phil already staring back, his full bottom lip captured between his teeth as he gazes down at him.

Dan doesn’t like the taste, normally. He usually only swallows to be polite, or if it’s convenient.

When Phil releases into his mouth, Dan swallows for neither of those reasons. He’s curious, and he wants to know how he tastes. Some part of him probably also just wants to impress Phil, but that part is secondary to the way his tongue cleans Phil off when he’s finished, greedy for a closeness that such an intimate part of sex provides.

When he pulls away, he blinks up at Phil, a little blearily. Phil sighs contently before swiping his thumb across Dan’s lips, no doubt cleaning him up. Dan doesn’t realize he’s crying until Phil swipes at his cheeks. “Come here,” he murmurs, tugging Dan up.

His legs are tv static beneath him, and will certainly be sore tomorrow, but Dan allows Phil to tug him into a sort of cradle in his lap. He doesn’t speak, he only pets Dan’s hair, peppering his face with sweet kisses while Dan thinks. It was only a couple tears, really, he justifies himself. Probably from allowing Phil as far down his throat as he did. There’s no other reason he would be emotional enough to cry while giving a blowjob, that’s for sure.

Dan’s not sure how long they sit there like that, but eventually he realizes it’s dark and panics. “I need to go.”

Phil’s eyes flash with hurt. “You can stay,” he argues gently.

He could. “I can’t,” Dan whispers.

Phil presses his forehead to Dan’s temple and takes a deep breath. “Tell me I don’t have anything I need to apologize for.”

Dan sinks his hand into Phil’s ruffled hair. “Of course you don’t. I wanted this.”

At that, Phil flinches away like he’s been burned. “As in, past tense? Like you don’t anymore?” His voice is panicked, and Dan would do, or will do, anything to calm him.

He gently cups Phil’s cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his cherry lips. “I want it. I want you.”

“Then stay,” Phil breathes.

Phil won’t make him. Dan knows he won’t. But he feels chained to this sofa, to Phil, as if he can feel the metal carving into his wrists.

“I’ll stay,” Dan promises.

~~~

When Dan wakes up, the first thing he notices is a weight against his back. It takes him a second to remember the night before, but when he does, his lips twitch into a smile. Carefully, so he doesn’t wake Phil, he shifts, rolling over until he comes face to face with the other man. Phil’s mouth is dropped open in sleep, and Dan leans closer, admiring his beautiful eyelashes. He feels a little creepy staring at Phil while he’s sleeping, but Dan can’t tear his eyes away. There’s just something so soft about Phil deep in sleep, something that has Dan completely captivated.

Until Phil begins to wake up, that is.

Dan quickly scoots back, pretending he just woke up to save himself the embarrassment. He watches Phil wake up through half-lidded eyes, smirking to himself when Phil smacks his lips loudly, only to groan when he realizes how bad his morning breath is, probably. His blue eyes flicker over to Dan and suddenly that gorgeous grin is taking over his features again, filling Dan with this bubbly sort of happiness that he doesn’t even try to hide.

“Good morning,” Phil mumbles, his voice scratchy from sleep. Dan feels his face flood with heat at the way that sound affects his still-sleepy body.

“Hi,” Dan squeaks, turning over to hide his growing problem in his pants. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm. But the waking is better by far,” Phil says with a cheeky grin. Dan returns it, right up until Phil leans in, planning to kiss him no doubt.

Dan makes quick work of covering Phil’s mouth. “Not so fast there, Casanova,” he tuts.

He feels Phil frown against the palm of his hand. “Why not? I had your willy in my mouth last night, and now I don’t get a good morning kiss?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “First of all, you need some lessons on consent. I can consent to something one day and not want it the next, you turnip.”

Phil presses a gentle kiss to the palm of Dan’s hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pauses for a beat. “Could I please have a morning kiss?” he asks sweetly.

“Pft,” Dan snorts. He pats Phil’s mouth softly. “You didn’t brush your teeth last night, so that’s a hard no, bub.”

“Okay. How about if I go brush and use mouthwash? Then can I have a tiny kiss?” Phil requests, his eyes lighting up with joy. Dan wants to laugh at him- he’s like a little kid begging for a new toy.

“I’ll consider it,” he teases.

No sooner are the words out of his mouth before Phil is stumbling his way off the bed and making his way to the bathroom. “Be right back!” he sing-songs.

Dan snorts but watches him go. Left alone, the creeping doubts and worries begin weighing on him. They haven’t defined this, whatever it is, and Dan doesn’t want to be the one to ask. Phil’s older, he reasons, so he should be the one to ask Dan out or whatever. Just the thought of actually seriously dating Phil at all is enough to make him want to throw up with happy nerves, the best possible kind of lovesick butterflies inhabiting his stomach.

Still, as excited as it makes him, Dan doesn’t want to be the one to initiate the awkward “what are we” talk. He’s had his heart broken far too many times over that talk, or at the very least his pride. Another, smaller voice, argues that maybe he shouldn’t consider dating Phil at all. Their friendship is, after all, founded on Phil needing Dan for his photography project. Sure they have lots in common, but Phil has a whole other adult life outside of depressed, failing-law-school little Dan. And as much as Dan wants to believe Phil might actually like him beyond the circumstances of their friendship, he just very seriously doubts it. He might just be in this for the free model and the sex, now that they’ve evidently added that to the mix as well.

He’s thinking that this just reaffirms his reluctance to bring up the status of their relationship to Phil when his thoughts are derailed by Phil barrelling back into the room, hopping up onto the bed and immediately going to straddle Dan’s lap. “My mouth is minty fresh for you now,” he announces proudly.

Dan grins. “Just for me?”

Phil nods, mirroring the smile. “A little kiss?” he asks, holding his hand out and indicating a tiny amount with his fingers.

Rolling his eyes, Dan brings a hand up to massage at Phil’s side. “Don’t you want me to go brush my teeth too?”

To Dan’s surprise, Phil shrugs carelessly. “I honestly don’t mind it, but if you want to, I’ll wait.”

Dan blinks up at him. Phil stares right back, not caving. After several moments pass in their weird staring contest, Dan shrugs. “Alright, come here, then.”

Phil goes eagerly, pressing his lips to Dan’s with an intensity and passion that Dan wasn’t prepared for considering how early it probably is. Processing the time is a mistake, apparently, because as soon as that part of Dan’s brain is functioning, so is the part that reminds him that today is a Wednesday, which means he has class.

Pulling away with a sharp gasp, Dan reaches frantically to the side, searching for his phone in a panic.

“Dan?” Phil asks, his voice concerned.

“My phone- what time is it?” He asks, fumbling around on his- well, Phil’s- nightstand.

Phil shuffles off his lap, giving Dan space to sit up and finally grab his phone. He presses the power button and feels a fresh surge of panic realizing he’s only got half an hour, at best, to get up, change, and make it halfway across town back to campus for his nine o’clock property law lecture.

“I’m so late, fuck, I’m so fucked, god-” Dan rants, climbing out of bed and searching for clothes; his, Phil’s, right now he doesn’t care, he just needs to be dressed and out this door like now. “Fuck! Where are my- jeans, I need jeans. Did I wear jeans? What am I- pajamas, fuck,” Dan’s mumbling to himself under his breath.

“Dan?” Phil asks from where Dan left him on the bed. When Dan glances at him, he looks a little hurt. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, fuck, sorry, Phil. I’ve got class, and I really shouldn’t skip it, but later? We can-” he forces himself to stop there with the reminder that the ball is in Phil’s court right now. Dan clears his throat, glancing away. “Just let me know when you want to work on the photo series again, and we can sort out a time, yeah?”

“Er… Sure, okay,” Phil says slowly, like he doesn’t quite get it. “I think your clothes are still in my washer,” he says, his voice apologetic. “I forgot to switch the load out last night when we… er…” He trails off, and when Dan glances at him, his face is dusted with pink. It’s beautiful- he’s beautiful.

Dan shrugs the thought away. He makes the split-second decision to ignore what transpired the night before, at least until Phil confirms that the feelings Dan’s got are mutual. “Do you think I could borrow something of yours?” he asks, timid.

Phil smiles, a soft twitch of his lips, before nodding and moving to the dresser. “I’ll find you some jeans, but you can pick whatever from my closet,” he instructs, waving Dan towards the open closet door. Dan vaguely remembers whispering complaints to Phil about it the night before, whining about how creepy it was to sleep with the closet door open. Phil had ignored him, obviously.

After barely a minute of searching, Dan pulls out a sort of atrocious sweater, mostly black but with some purple and orange stripes that reminds him vaguely of the nineties. He doesn’t think before he shrugs out of his borrowed shirt, tugging the sweater over his head in its place. By the time he turns around, Phil’s stood there gazing at him with something adoring in his eyes.

“Here you go,” he says, holding out a pair of black jeans. “They’re ripped, just like you like them,” he teases.

Dan grins at him as he pushes his borrowed sweatpants off his legs. “Thanks, mate,” he replies. He tugs the jeans on, surprised that they fit him. Phil gives him a strange look when Dan makes a surprised noise and Dan shrugs. “Your ass is bigger than mine, so I’m just surprised these actually fit me. Flat ass problems,” he says, grinning at the way Phil blushes.

“I- you- I do not,” Phil argues pathetically. “My ass is-”

“Perfect,” Dan grins, unable to help himself, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around Phil’s waist. He kisses him deeply, convincing himself he’s got the time to do so. He doesn’t, not really.

“Shut up,” Phil mumbles against his mouth.

“‘S true,” Dan argues. “You’ve got a great ass. Mine isn’t nearly as mouth-watering as yours.” He’s taking the piss, a little, but mostly to cover the fact that he’s had many a wet dream about that plump ass on those long legs of Phil’s.

“Your… Yours is… perfectly adequate, Daniel,” Phil argues between kisses.

“Mhm,” Dan mumbles, not even listening. He swipes his tongue across Phil’s lips before forcing himself to step away. “I really need to go.” He can’t keep the guilt out of his voice.

Phil’s face drops, and Dan nearly cries at how disappointed he looks. “Yeah… Okay. I’ll text you later?” He sounds unsure.

Dan nods hurriedly, almost to spite the voice that’s telling him to shut up and not jeopardize their friendship. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later?”

Phil nods. “Alright.” He walks Dan to the door, where he pulls on his shoes hurriedly. Just before Dan turns to leave, Phil darts forward and kisses him again. “Be safe. Learn something new!”

“Alright, Dad,” Dan jokes, rolling his eyes. Phil’s nose crinkles adorably at the endearment. “Bye, Phil.”

“Bye, Dan,” Phil echoes, holding the door as Dan leaves.

Dan doesn’t hear it close until he’s at the end of the hall.

~~~

There’s a subtle shift in Dan’s life after that, or at least the part of his life that’s intertwined with Phil’s. It’s not so obvious at first, just hanging out a bit more often without the constant excuse of Phil’s photo series hanging over their heads.

And then, of course, there’s the sex. That’s rather new, Dan thinks to himself as he goes to let Phil into the flat he shares with three other blokes. They’re busy, out-going types, which is something that Dan is super disgusted by and can in no way relate to. But their frequent absence does have its perks, like now, when Phil wanted to see him and wanted to get out of his own flat. Up until now Dan hasn’t invited him over due to his roommates, but upon Phil’s insistence, he’d caved.

“Hi,” Dan greets when he opens up the front door.

Phil grins, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Dan’s cheek. “Hello there,” he says happily. He’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder, which Dan notices as Phil steps past him and further into the flat. “Will there be a grand tour?” He asks with a joking tone.

Dan snorts. He waves Phil ahead of him, into the lounge, which connects to a kitchen. There’s a hallway that cuts between the two common areas, and each of the four bedrooms, plus the shared bathroom, are that way. “This is it,” Dan says with a vague gesture around the room.

Phil takes it all in, as if there’s actually anything to see. “It’s cozy,” he says mildly.

He’s not sure if it’s just the sort of weird mood he’s been in or if that actually bothers Dan, but either way, he frowns. “I mean, I told you it wasn’t much, I don’t know what you expected.” He doesn’t mean to be harsh, but the tone flavors his words without his permission.

There’s a quirk to Phil’s left eyebrow when he looks at Dan. He definitely picked up on Dan’s attitude. “It just doesn’t look like you,” Phil says with a shrug. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Dan.”

Dan nods, looking away. He doesn’t want to fight with him. “RIght.” He nods to the hall. “Bedroom’s this way.”

He’s fully expecting a joke, so when it doesn’t come, he tenses. Something angry and red is poking at his anxiety demon, causing it to stir. He hates that feeling, he really, really does. Trying not to show it, he leads Phil into his room and promptly goes to sit on the bed, leaning back and watching as Phil surveys the new space. If Dan thought he was being observant in the lounge, his attention to detail in this room is tenfold. He studies every poster, every trinket, every key on Dan’s keyboard, as he slowly moves around the room.

They don’t speak for what feels like hours, but eventually, Phil drops his backpack on the floor by the bed and settles in front of Dan with a smile. “This is better,” he announces in a pleased voice.

Dan blinks at him. “What is?” He asks dumbly.

Phil reaches out and tucks his pinky underneath the rip of Dan’s jeans, stroking the skin there softly. “This room. It’s more you.”

“You think?” Dan asks, tilting his head as he considers it.

Phil nods with a smile. “It is, yeah. It’s full of little Dan things. I like it a lot.”

Dan tries, very hard, not to let that go to his head. “Thanks,” he says, unsure of what else to say.

There’s another silence as Phil tucks two more fingers into the rip of Dan’s jeans. It’s not really any sort of sexual searching, just patient, calming touches that go straight to Dan’s heart. Dan’s staring at his leg and Phil’s staring at him, always watching him when he’s at his most vulnerable.

Without a word, Phil pulls his hand away and kicks his shoes off, crawling up the bed to curl himself around Dan’s side. He hums a questioning noise, and Dan just nods mutely, allowing himself to be maneuvered into a cuddle. Dan can breathe easier then, avoiding Phil’s eyes but feeling the comfort of his body wrapped around Dan’s. There’s a warm kiss pressed to the spot just behind Dan’s ear and he lets out a breath.

“How about a nap?” Phil asks on a whisper.

“Are you staying the night?” Dan asks, glancing over at Phil’s backpack.

“I was going to, but if you’d rather I didn’t-” Phil begins.

Dan interrupts him with a shake of his head. “I want you to stay,” he says, voice small. He rolls over in Phil’s arms so they’re facing each other, clutching the front of Phil’s shirt in his hand. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Dan apologizes.

Phil smiles, ducking forward and pressing a soft kiss to Dan’s lips. “It’s alright,” he whispers when he pulls away. He lifts a hand to Dan’s hair, stroking the chocolate waves gently. “Do you actually wanna nap?”

Dan shrugs, feeling a flush on his cheeks at what he thinks is the sound of a suggestion. “I’m not really in the mood for like, sex, if that’s what you’re asking.”

There’s a look of panicked surprise on Phil’s face at this, and he’s quick to shake his head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, like, we can watch a movie? If you want to do that instead of sleep.”

Chewing his lip, Dan considers this. “I probably won’t be paying a whole lot of attention,” he admits, almost ashamed of his lack of attention span.

Phil smiles. “That’s alright.” He sits up and reaches for his backpack, pulling his laptop out and setting it on the bed. Before opening it, he turns to Dan with a quirked brow. “Are we going anywhere tonight?” he asks.

Dan shakes his head with a snort. “I’m not,” he says, disgusted at the very idea of leaving his warm bed.

“Good,” Phil says with a grin. He stands, immediately tugging his jeans down his legs. Dan isn’t sure if he’s meant to look away, but he doesn’t. He isn’t even particularly interested in a sexual sense, he’s just curious about how Phil looks when he’s getting undressed for bed. Phil looks up at him after tossing his jeans to the floor, and he has a light dusting of pink across his cheekbones when he sees Dan watching. “Quit looking at me,” he whines, climbing back into bed.

Dan turns his head pointedly to stare at Phil. “You’re nice to look at,” he says with a shrug.

Phil rolls his eyes. “You should take yours off too,” he says, poking Dan’s side.

Pulling the cover up, Dan gestures to his sweatpant-clad legs. “I’m already in my pjs, bub.”

“I know that,” Phil says with a sneaky little smirk as he opens his laptop and goes to Netflix. “But I think we ought to match.”

Dan huffs. “What if I get cold, huh?” He asks, quite theoretically, considering his body temperature almost always runs high.

Phil kisses his cheek. “I’ll keep you warm, baby,” he says sweetly.

Dan, embarrassingly, blushes at that. They still hadn’t defined this… whatever it was, so for now Dan only knew that he was quickly catching feelings for Phil. That was dangerous enough without the complication of their involvement for Phil’s photography project, so Dan’s decided that the easiest way to handle this is to ignore it. They can be friends, they can have casual sex, but he can’t even consider what would happen if those feelings turned into something more. His friendship with Phil had become one of the most important parts of his life, and he’d be beyond devastated if he did something, intentional or not, to jeopardize that.

Instead of acting on his instinct to move closer, emotionally and physically, Dan snorts, covering up the racing of his heart. “Shut up,” he says, struggling to keep the fond out of his voice. “Can we watch Avengers?” he asks, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

Phil smiles at him. He types for a moment before turning the screen around, where, sure enough, he’s pulled up the first Avengers movie. He fiddles with the settings on the volume and screen size for a moment before pressing play, snuggling back on the bed. He very unsubtly moves his arm to wrap it around Dan’s shoulders, ignoring Dan’s faux-annoyed huff at the cliche gesture.

“Are you hungry?” Phil asks him in a quiet voice only a few minutes into the film. “I may have brought some popcorn with me,” he admits, shameless.

Dan can’t help but roll his eyes. “Did you bring the kind I like?” he asks, mostly kidding. He’d only mentioned it once or twice, that a certain brand of popcorn tasted better to him, but ever since then he’s noticed that particular brand taking up more space in Phil’s cupboards.

To his surprise, Phil nods. “I did. I even brought that candy you like to pour into the popcorn.”

Hiding a pleased smile against Phil’s chest, Dan huffs. “Will you make the popcorn if I get the drinks sorted?”

Phil kisses his forehead. The gesture warms Dan’s entire face. “Sure,” Phil says easily. He goes to climb out of the bed, then stops suddenly, staring down at his bare legs. “Would your roommates be particularly offended by a half-naked man in your kitchen?” He sounds only partially concerned.

Dan grins, pulling Phil towards the door. “They’ll get over it if they are.”

~~~

They don’t have sex that time. Looking back on it, Dan thinks that’s an important thing to remember about the first time he invited Phil into his home. Whether it was because he could just tell that Dan was having a bad day, or maybe just not in the mood himself, Phil doesn’t initiate anything sexual, not even when they’re curled around each other watching stupid YouTube videos at two in the morning. Instead, he just holds Dan, and allows him to be.

Dan thinks about that a lot, later, after everything falls apart.

~~~

#phanfiction #phanfic #photographer!phil #student!dan #model!dan (sort of)#friends to lovers #best friends #miscommunication #angst #fluff #smut #break up #getting back together #photography fic #take a picture (it'll last longer)#tapill #part 1

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imaginesbymk · 3 years

Text

“Something’s Wrong with Mr. Pink.”

Reservoir Dogs One Shot

Summary: There’s been spark between you and Mr. Pink, but he’s one to shield his emotions. He realizes he’s starting to lose you, but he’s out of ways to win your heart. Desperate, he approaches Mr. White for help.

Pairing: Mr. Pink x Fem!Reader

Tags: swearing, sexist remarks, smoking + mentions of drug use (marijuana)

Non Requested

Word Count: 2,054

Author’s Note: as you can tell, quentin tarantino movies have been on my list!!! the reader is codenamed Miss Beige!! i never thought i’d have this much appreciation for steve buscemi until now, he’s such a cool guy :((( also thank you @myriadimagines for checking my title capitalization aksnskdns - leave a like/reblog + feedback!!! <333

MR. BROWN gave Mr. Pink a ride to the next meeting, and the whole trip there, Brown rambled on and on about God knows what. It came through one ear and out the other for Pink. Brown didn’t seem to notice because of his investment of his proven theory of a movie he had seen and wanted to share it with someone.

If he wasn’t listening in silence, Pink would always have something to say. It would usually be a comment, an opinion on something about social life. This one afternoon, he bit his tongue, despite the guys knowing his mind was occupied, even Nice Guy Eddie raised a brow. It didn’t start the day they were all given your colour coded names. It didn’t start the day they reviewed the plan of the heist with each other. It all started when you two were unintentionally left alone at the large dining table, moments after the guys had walked out the restaurant for something.

“Pink’s a pretty colour.” You gave him a reassuring smile, stirring your straw in your milkshake.

“To you.”

“And to anyone else who would want to be codenamed Pink!” you scoff. “Sexist.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re Miss Beige,” he says, his mouth full of his toast.

“And I happen to like my name. It’s a pretty colour,” you paused. “Just like pink.”

Pink huffs, swirling his coffee mug. “I can’t wait to smoke.”

“Lucky.”

“My buddy sets up Thai sticks like it’s one of those model boats in a bottle. It’s so fragile to him, and he saved one for me. Something tells me I owe him a shit ton.”

“You smoke Thai sticks?” you ask. “Your poor lungs.”

“Nah, I gotta smoke outta one anytime after coffee just for me to either black out or jump off the Empire State building by the time we hit Easter.”

You chuckled.

From the windows of the restaurant, you could see the guys standing outside their parked cars including Nice Guy Eddie and Joe, talking to each other about whatever. You could see their mouths moving, Nice Guy Eddie using a lot of hand motions at Mr. White, and Joe calling someone on the phone.

This wasn’t the first time you spent a limited amount of minutes alone with Mr. Pink. At Uncle Bob’s Pancake House, you two did sit close to each other, except Mr. Blue sat in between the both of you, and you had to lean forward to see Mr. Pink if he was speaking or if you two were giving each other looks if someone said something stupid.

If you were that childish, you would've considered the five minutes of alone time with Mr. Pink a first date - without the formal introduction. You two didn’t give each other your names because of Joe, but you wouldn’t mind slipping it out.

Silence, and then-

“I know this really cool café near my apartment. We should check it out sometime,” you blurted out.

Pink was in the midst of swallowing his food. He chokes on his ketchup dipped toast, taking his coffee mug to chase the contents down his throat.

“Wait a minute-” Pink cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “Are you-” he cleared his throat for the final time. “Are you asking me out?”

“Y-yeah,” you sheepishly smile, holding in your breath. “I mean, we can go get coffee, hang out at my place afterwards - it’s just a five minute walk - and sit on my couch, listen to K-Billy’s Super Sounds of the ‘70s, you can smoke your Thai stick, I wouldn’t mind...” By looking at Pink’s face made you trail off your words. You knew where this was going.

“You couldn’t ask Brown or Orange?”

“No, I wanted to ask you. We’ve been talking lately, we seem to get along, thank God, and you’re really cool. Even when you can be an absolute dick almost all the time, you haven’t scared me off. Just one date, it won’t kill us.”

“A date...” he frowns a bit. “With you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” your heart sank.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Miss Beige. Ya just got the wrong idea. We’re here for a job, not to hook up. If you want to suck someone off, try your luck with Mr. Blonde. Besides, I go for chicks at a bar. I know from experience, they’re always coming in hot - first come, first serve typa’ shit.”

“Right. My bad.” You felt yourself shrinking now, fighting the urge to get up and make a dash outta there, somewhere to scream in embarrassment, whatever emotion it was.

“Excuse me.” Mr. Pink gets up and walks away, just as the rest of the guys start making their return to the large table.

“Where did Mr. Pink go?” Mr. Orange asked.

“Little men’s room, I’m guessing.” You sighed, sliding the milkshake away from you. “I’m full.”

“Something’s wrong with Mr. Pink. Did you guys get in a fight? We were only gone for five minutes,” Mr. Brown laughs.

You sat in silence, staring down.

“Nah, I bet she finally put him in his place and he’s crying like a baby in there,” Mr. Blue said, lighting the cigar in his mouth with a match.

“Most definitely not.” Mr. White shook his head, patting his pockets in search of his lighter. “That man’s a smartass, and smartasses like him know how to shield themselves. He’s fine. If anything, he can walk his ass home.”

Meanwhile, Mr. Pink calmly entered the restroom, placed both hands on each side of the tiny sink, stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror, and screamed in anger.

He jumps when he notices a man had appeared from one of the stalls just a moment ago, staring at him worriedly.

“WHAT?!” Mr. Pink snaps.

If someone treated him like a friend, he goes along with it if they weren’t weird or creepy. If someone told a joke, he’ll laugh if it isn’t corny or cringeworthy. But if someone admitted their feelings to him? Let alone ask him out?

That was the thing: Mr. Pink doesn’t like the idea of vulnerability. He’s aware that it’s unavoidable, it’s human nature - he just chooses not to give into it. Mr. Pink won’t waste a breath giving anyone the impression that he’s easy to get along with and that he’s a kind of guy to not act like a complete jerk half the time, because that’s not true. Not on his behalf, at least.

“Mr. White,” Mr. Pink approaches him in the vacant room at the hideout one day.

He knows people can judge. So he naturally survives on witty remarks, being a sarcastic ass most of the time, and coffee, coffee, and more coffee. Coffee times six.

Mr. White finishes combing his hair in the small mirror, nodding at him as a response. “You all right, son?”

But at the same time, his heart was telling him he wants you all to himself. “I got a problem...”

"SO you want my help?” Mr. White said, a few moments after Mr. Pink had explained the situation he was stuck in. “You’re completely hopeless right now? Gosh, is it my birthday already?”

“You’re full of shit,” Pink mumbled.

“Thought you’re s’posed to be a fuckin’ professional, like you said?” Mr. White chuckled. “I would have thought you would know what to do by now.”

“What am I, the Dalai Lama? I don’t know the answer to everything.”

“I mean... I kinda figured something was goin’ on between you two, I tried to warn her,” White shoots him a blank stare.

“Warn her?” Mr. Pink scowls. “Like I’m some fuckin’ tiger on the loose?”

“I did tell her: Listen, honey,” Mr. White grimaced, as he saw you like a sixteen-year-old teenager not knowing better than to get her heart broken. “Are you one hundred percent sure you like Mr. Pink? He’s a pretty cynical guy. You know he doesn’t tip waitresses?”

You shrug.

“Look, I know I can be very close to myself while very outspoken but,” Mr. Pink sighs. “I mean, c’mon, you’ve seen Miss Beige. Who wouldn’t want her? One time, she called in sick for a job she worked at just to play Super Mario World.”

“You could go there and apologize to her.”

“It’s not that easy, White.”

“How so? Just tell her you freaked out but you had a change of heart.”

“No, man. I could have accepted it right there and then, I could be taking her out somewhere, a place she likes, or that café she was talking about. But no, I turn into the cold piece of shit I always am ‘cause I’m a fucking-” Mr. Pink kicks the rusty chair in anger. “-idiot!” He kicks it again, hurting his foot in the process. He cries out in pain and hops away to the table for balance.

“Mr. Pink, it’s not too late to win her heart. If you really like her, and I can tell you’d take a bullet for her, then brush the professionalism aside for one second and make your move.”

“How?” he chuckles, taking a seat in the chair he had just kicked.

“Well, you can start by introducing yourself.”

“Already done.”

“No I mean, your name.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. What we’re not gonna do is that.” Mr. Pink ran his fingers through his hair, turning his back to White to therapeutically stare at the light pink tiles on the walls.

“Why not?” White shrugs. “I told her mine. And it’s-”

Mr. Pink turned around. “What?”

Mr. White furrowed his brows. “Huh?”

“You told her your name?” he said. In his mind he prayed Mr. White gave her a fake name on the spot.

“I mean, not just her. Mr. Orange, too. My first name and where I was from, it was a normal conversation.”

“...WHY?!” Pink’s voice echoed in the warehouse.

“Orange asked.”

“You know what Joe said, we’re not supposed to reveal any personal info about ourselves!”

“Joe said this, Joe said that- fucking teacher’s pet,” Mr. White mocks.

“What the hell were you thinking, White?” he shouts.

“How else can you and Miss Beige take a step further if you can’t even tell each other your fuckin’ names? Just introduce yourself, Pink. That’s one way to start,” Mr. White says.

“And what if she doesn’t like my name?” He could only come up with such a question like that.

“What is your name?”

“Fuck you, man.” Mr. Pink stood up from the chair, earning a chuckle from his colleague.

“All right, if you won’t tell me your name, then tell y/n. Y/n should be the only one who can know.”

Mr. Pink turned back to him again. “Y/N?” he says. “That’s her name?”

Mr. White nods. As heated as Mr. Pink was, he knew one day your name would have to fall out of his lips and not a colour, and he wouldn’t mind that. Y/N...

Mr. Pink wouldn’t mind that one bit.

FROM now on, the café near your apartment complex would be your go-to. It was a café not too small but not too big, and no one would bat an eye if you showed up in your pajamas. The following Saturday you went there alone, sipping your coffee and turning to the second page of the morning paper.

What sucked was the fact that after you were turned down, you came to think that Mr. Pink wouldn’t be able to see how cool the interior was. He sure was missing out. Sure his Thai stick won’t be stinking up your living room while throwback songs from the ‘70s play on the radio, but indeed, sucks for him.

“Shit, you were right, y/n. This place is pretty neat.”

The newspaper crinkled when you lowered it down. Standing at the foot of your booth was Mr. Pink. This time he didn’t have on his silly Hawaiian shirt like last time, and no, he didn’t ironically wear pink as a kind gesture. He did look good in a white tee, though.

You had to smile. He knew your name. And you wondered how...

“Oh, Mr. Pink. Morning,” you nodded.

He takes a seat in front of you. “C’mon, we’re not at work. Just call me—”

THE END

—

TAGLIST: @locke-writes

#i wish mr pink actually revealed his name in the movie #but no he’s a ✨professional✨#reservoir dogs imagine #reservoir dogs one shot #reservoir dogs x reader #reservoir dogs fanfic #mr pink x reader #mr pink imagine #mr pink #reservoir dogs #reservoir dogs fanfiction #mr pink one shot #reader insert #one shot #imagine #mk's faves

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thr-333 · 4 years

Text

Mismatch- Part 5

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Fine if meeting them didn’t give them a clue maybe this will.

First < Previous > Next

------

“So Tim said you have a lot of siblings?” Marion asks Dick as they walk down the hall, he chuckles.

“You could say that, we aren’t all blood, but we’re still family,” He guides them down the stairs, the elevator not being large enough for the whole class.

“Doesn’t matter to us,” Marinette chimes in, “We’re adopted too, we never met our birth parents,”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Marion hums, “I don’t think Aunt Selina is actually related to Papa either,”

“People always say that we look like her though,” Marinette smiles, “Although they do say the same about Maman,”

“I’m sure you’ll fit right in with us, you’ve got the whole black hair, blue eyes going for you,” Dick jokes, as they reach the end of the stairwell, “On this floor we have some of our publicity team who manage the image for Wayne enterprises and the Wayne family,”

“It’s still kinda rude for him to ignore you,” Alya was clearly unaware of her own hypocrisy. Dick ignores them in turn and carries on.

“Bruce was just surprised, I didn’t want to interrupt,” Lila explains, clearly not having heard any of the conversation between the newly acquainted cousins.

“Hopefully you get some time with them, if the twins don’t hog it all,” Sabrina glare can be felt.

“I’m sure once the shock runs out they’ll have plenty of spare time to catch up,” Lila gloats, “I have known the Waynes a lot longer, the twins are just strangers,”

“You two do seem pretty strange to me,” Dick whispers teasingly, before speaking out to the rest of the group.

“You have no idea,” Marion glances at his satchel carrying two small gods.

“-I’ll talk to them,” Kim speaks up, speeding up to reach the twins. Lila having said something in the five seconds they weren’t paying attention that caused him to take action.

He walks over to them, to his credit only hesitating slightly under Kagami’s glare.

“Hey, you should know Lila’s pretty upset you didn’t let Bruce say hello,” Kim whispers to him, even though everyone could hear. Marion stops and turns to him.

“Kim, if Bruce wanted to say hello he would have,” Not that Bruce would have, “In case you didn’t notice we were talking with Dick most the time,”

“I just think you should back off, Lila doesn’t get to see the Waynes often,” Kim frowns, glancing back at Lila who was playing her part, looking distraught.

Marion tries not to smirk, thinking; ‘Clearly not as she can’t recognise one right in front of her’

“Kim you know we don’t get to see our Aunt often,” Marion scolds, Kim flinches probably at reminder they were childhood friends, “Mr Wayne can invite whoever he wants, he could be literally anyone, I don’t care, I just want to spend time with my Aunt,”

Marion leaves the shocked Kim behind, he rejoins his sister and friends.

“The idiot doesn't talk to you for weeks but comes running the second Lila beckons, ridiculous,” Chloe is glaring back at the boy who is talking to Lila now, as her frown grows.

“Maybe he’s telling her to back off?” Marinette rubs comforting circles on Marion’s shoulder.

“I doubt it, he’s pissed at me for some reason,” Marion shrugs, Marinette takes the hint and drops her hand with one last pat.

“Probably Lila related,” Adrien says sadly, as Kim rubs his head sheepishly with a quiet laugh.

“Can’t completely blame her,” Marion speaks the most unlikely words, “You guys know how we are with plans,”

“A true friend would not betray you for a few cancellations,” Kagami fumes, as they walk through an office area with a view looking down at the street below, “Adrien and I also have similar situations,”

“That’s right, I’m the only one in this group with any sense of punctuality,” Chloe boasts teasingly, Dick doesn’t interrupt them.

“You were once an hour late for a picnic cause you were doing your hair,” Marion snickers.

“Did you see my hair that day?” Chloe gestures to her hair, “Worth it,”

“It was-”

Kagami was cut off by the loud shattering of glass. Everyone ducked as glass spilled everywhere, shouting or screaming. Marion drops into a defensive stance, Marinette, Kagami, Chloe and even Dick doing the same. Marion watches as a figure lands on a desk with a grunt, an employee hiding underneath it. Marion's eyes go wide as he watches Red Hood- the Red Hood trying to push himself up. His totally-not-fanboying is cut off when a villain he doesn't recognise jumps through the broken window. Marion watches as the villain takes slow purposeful strides towards Red Hood, glass crunching underneath his boots. Marion ignores Dick as he tries to herd the class out of the room, most employees already making their way to the emergency exits. Minus the one who was trapped underneath Red Hood.

“Well Hood, seems I’ve got you,” The villain looms over him, taking aim.

Marion sprints into action, using his momentum to tackle the villain. Sending him off balance, bullet hitting the opposite wall. First order of business; the gun.

“What the-get off,” The villain aims the gun at Marion, the angle making it hard as Marion is standing on the opposite side.

As he turns Marion holds on tighter lifting his feet off the ground. Putting the villain off balance again and keeping Marion out of reach. Marion uses the hesitation to slip behind him, vaulting onto the villains shoulders. He wraps his legs around the villains neck

“You little-” Both arms come up out of instinct to get him off.

Marion grabs the arm with the gun, holding it with both of his. Pointing the gun up to the ceiling. A punch connects with his side, the impact muted by the bullet proof armour he wears underneath. Marion looks behind them, judging if the space is big enough to pull him down without hitting the desks. He also looks further back, making sure no one would be in the path of gunfire. Deeming that both are clear he leans back, making the villain shout as he loses balance, sending them both down. Marion falls as safely as possible in his position.

They hit the ground with a grunt. The villain loses all the air in his lungs because of the impact. Marion doesn’t risk losing his grip on the villain to disarm him. He keeps his hold as steady as possible as the villain starts to struggle. The punches to his side start to give a dull ache, the angel making the blows less powerful at least. Great, this was usually the part where Ladybug would swoop in. In light of any magical Ladybugs marion squeezes his legs tighter, trying to make the villain pass out. The villain starts firing his gun blindly, Marion flinches at the sound, far too close to his ear. Making him realise just how close the gun was to his head, he closes his eyes and turns away instinctually. He braces for another blow but it doesn't come, then the shooting stops.

“Fuck,” The villian shouts, Marion opens his eyes turning his head towards the gun. He sees the heel of a boot pressing down into the villain's wrist. The grip on the gun goes lax and the boot kicks it away.

Marion follows the leg up to see Red Hood standing over them. The angle making him seem much larger, casting a shadow over Marion. The expressionless mask staring right down at him. Marion gulped, yeah that might be slightly intimidating

“Sorry,” Red Hood grunts, pulling the villains arm at an unnatural angel making him yelp.“Getting thrown through a window ain't fun,”

“Tell me about it,” Marion knows exactly how that feels, as Chat Noir, and this guy is just a human. How quickly did he get back up? It couldn't have been over a minute in the scheme of things. And oh wow he was still standing over him and Marion was having a hard time keeping his eyes on his face or rather helmet.

“I think he’s out,” Red Hood says with a slightly amused tone.

Marion jolts, not having even noticed how the villain stopped struggling. He relaxes his grip cautiously, ready to hold back on if he starts moving.

“Pass me that arm,” Red Hood says, taking out a pair handcuffs snapping them around the wrist he was already holding.

Marion just keeps staring until Red Hood starts to just reach down. He startles, thrusting the limp arm into his hand and scrambling up, trying not to blush. Red hood secures the villains wrists before dropping them. He steps to the side and pushes the villain out of the way.

“Are you ok?” Red Hood crouches down to ask, Marion stares dumbly, “What's your name? Where are you?”

“.... Marion…. Wayne Tower….” Marion falters a little(a lot) star struck, before realising why he’s asking, “I don’t have a concussion! I’m fine really!”

Red Hood nods, standing back up. He reaches out an arm to help Marion up. Marion wants to take his hand, he really does, but his arms don’t seem to be moving. He’d probably just trip over anyway. Red Hood lets his arm drop once its clear Marion won’t be responding anytime soon. Instead he reaches down and throws the unconscious villain over his shoulder.

“I’m sure you’re going to get plenty of lectures on how stupid that was,” Marion cringes at the harsh tone “So… thanks…. that was really brave,”

Marion is left to internally combust as Red Hood swings out the window with a grappling hook.

“Marion! Mari! Are you ok,” Marinette rushes to him, followed by the rest of the class.

“What just happened?” Marion is still staring at the spot Red Hood disappeared from.

“Dude, you took that guy down in seconds!” Nino exclaims, Marion fixes his glasses only the magic of the miraculous keeping them on.

“Huh, it felt longer,” Marion turns to his class to see everyone, minus Lila, looking down at him with concern.

“We need to get you checked out,” Dick helps him stand,“There's a medical bay in Wayne tower, lets go,”

Marion just nods, slowly coming to himself to realise he was very much not alright. He clutched his side that ached, armour shielding the majority of the damage didn’t mean it wasn’t hurting. His back also hurt from landing on the ground, luckily Marinette had reinforced his jacket so he knew it wasn't cut up. Apparently he had gotten away with no cuts, as he had kept his head off the ground and was wearing reinforced gloves. His ears were ringing from the gunshots, in hindsight, that hold wasn’t the best idea, but they rarely had to deal with actual guns so he was left unprepared.

They reach the medical bay, Dick trying to get his classmates and teacher to calm down the whole way. Marion didn’t answer any of their questions, knowing he had to consider his answers carefully. He made sure to pass Marinette his baton, for her to hide in her backpack. In the medical bay there were a few employees who were part of the attack getting their cuts disinfected. Marion gets a thank you from an employee who he recognises as the one trapped under the desk. Marion nods in response, being guided to a seperate room only Marinette was allowed into.

The nurse checks him over, revealing a growing bruise on his side. He seems surprised it's not worse after Marinette explains what happened, luckily he doesn’t notice anything amiss about his clothes. He also checks his back, telling him it should be fine in a day or two and if it’s not, to see a professional. Marion knows that even if something is wrong his increased healing ability from his time as the black cat would set it right.

“The ringing should wear off in a few days,” Marion knows it will stop by the end of the day, “It’s a natural symptom after loud noises,”

Marion nods and the nurse leaves him to rest, letting Marinette watch over him.

“That was reckless,” Marinette states simply, as soon as the door closes.

“Can we save the lecture for later?” He rolls over on the bed the nurse insisted he rest on.

“Marinette is right,” Tikki flies out of her purse, followed by Kaalki and Plagg. Plagg doesn't say anything just comes to sit on Marion’s chest. “Your whole class was watching,”

“I know! I just wasn't thinking!” Marion pats Plagg's head, silently telling him he’s alright.

“I don’t know,” Marinette leans back and smirks, “I think you were thinking of one thing in particular,”

“No, go back to the lecture,” Marion buries his face in the pillow.

“So how was meeting him? You seemed a little flustered,” Marinette leans her elbows on her knees and holds her face.

“Ugh, I was totally embarrassing, wasn’t I?” Marion fixes her with pleading eyes.

“Oh, definitely, you also completely ignored him trying to help you," Marion screams into the pillow,

“This seems to be an effective punishment,” Kaalki muses, zipping away with the rest of the Kwamis when someone knocks on the door.

“Come in,” Marinette calls, as Marion sits up.

“Marion Cheng-Dupain, explain yourself!” Aunt Selina bursts through the door.

“Auntie! Who I love so much, so good to see you, did I tell you that you look lovely today,” Marion shifts back as she approaches.

“Nice try, why did I get a call from Dick telling me you were in the medical wing?” She stops to stand in front of him, hands on hips.

“I assume it’s because of the villain attack,” Marion glances at the door to see Dick peek in before closing it, “But I’m not sure,”

“A villain attacked you!” Selina bellows, Marion realises its probably a good thing he can't give her their name.

“Well no. The villain attacked Red Hood, I attacked the villain before he could attack Red Hood,” Marion rambles making gestures to explain the process. Marinette gives him a flat look.

“So you thought attacking a villain unarmed was a better idea then running away?” Their Aunt looks horrified through her anger.

“Yes that would be the gist of it,” Marion agrees, Marinette face palms.

“Don’t worry I’ve already given him a lecture,” Marinette covers and Marion knows he owes her one.

“What am I going to do with you?” Their Aunt sighs rubbing her face.

“Give me a hug and ask if I'm alright?” She rolls her eyes knowing exactly what he’s trying to do, but sits down next to him anyway.

“Come here you two,” Marinette comes and sits next to her and she pulls them both in for a hug, “You’re not allowed to scare me like that ever again,”

“Ever?-ouch,” Marion yelps as Selina pinches his cheek playfully.

“You’re meant to say ‘sorry I won’t do it again’ and then be sneakier about it next time,” She scolds, as Marion rubs his cheek.

“I promise next time I decide to impulsively fight a villain you won’t find out about it,” Marion swears, making their aunt roll her eyes.

“You’re a brat,” She ruffles his hair, not that it wasn't already messy.

“I get it from you,” Marion grins, Selina sighs.

”... yes you do,” She gives him a sad little smile and they fall into a familiar silence.

This was something their Aunt did often, randomly becoming solemn and closing off for a little bit.

“Marion, Marinette are you ok?” Madame Bustier pokes her head through the door.

“Yeah, nurse said I’m fine, just a few bruises,” Marion sees her relief, "Did you call our parents?"

"Yes I called yours first, I told them you were being looked at," Madame Bustier explains, "You should call them soon,"

"We will," Marinette promises, neither looking forward to that conversation.

“Alright then, are you free to go?” Madame Bustier asks, “The rest of the tours been cancelled and the class is ready to leave,”

“I’ll take them,” Selina steps in, hugging them tighter “I’ll drop them off at the hotel later,”

“Alright then, don’t stay out too late” Madame Bustier gives them a smile, disappearing behind the door.

“She isn’t even going to ask where we’re going,” Their Aunt huffs, glaring at the door.

“Aren’t we going to dinner?” Marion asks, Marinette nodding.

“I was planning on just letting you rest without your classmates bothering you,” Their Aunt admits

“I’m fine, I want to go to dinner," Marion receives an unconvinced look from their Aunt.

"Please,” They chorus using their twin powers, that breaks her.

“Fine, fine," She relents, ruffling his hair again, Marinette's hat sparing her, "But Bruce probably needs some time to sort everything out,”

“Already handled,” Bruce walks through the door right on cue, “I must apologise for this happening to you both in my building,”

“Don’t worry about it, we’re fine,” Marinette answers for him, Marion getting tired of repeating himself.

“I watched the security footage," Bruce tells them, standing at the bed.

'right that exists' Marion thinks, 'I can practically fell Marinette scheming how to steal it', if only to immortalise his pain.

"Where did you learn to fight?” Bruce inquires, neither missing the subtle glance to Selina.

“Um, we taught ourselves, did some self defence classes,” Marinette answers, both feeling their Aunt relax against them

“Plus Aunt Selina has trained us a bit since we were kids,” Marion adds, with a teasing smile.

“Has she,” Bruce states, looking at his fiance.

“You little snitch,” Selina mocks anger, ruffling his hair with both hands now in retaliation, Marion laughs.

“If you aren’t up for dinner we can postpone to a later date,” Bruce tells him, Marion swears he can see a slight smile.

“No, no, I’m perfectly fine, I’d love to come,” Marion tries to push his Aunt away.

“If that's the case, we can go to the manor right now,” Bruce offers, the twins nod, “Just a minute, Selina?”

Selina leaves Marion's hair alone and follows Bruce out the room. Marion starts to go over the events of the last hour in his mind. Coming to a horrible realisation.

“Wait a minute… did Red Hood see me wearing his outfit!” Marion turns to Marinette.

“Oh come on, like he recognises it,” She says through her laughter.

‘He was wearing my MDC outfit’ Jason thinks excitedly to himself, having dropped the criminal off to the police.

‘He seemed scared so he probably isn’t a fan, maybe he just likes MDC’ Jason's thoughts sour, back at his shared safe house with Roy.

His phone rings. Jason is about to ignore it when he sees Alfred's name on the caller Id.

“Hello?”

“Master Jason I would like to invite you to dinner tonight,” Alfred speaks from the phone, as Jason paces around the apartment.

“What's the occasion?” Jason asks, Roy glances up from whatever he's making on the couch.

“Miss Selina’s niece and nephew are in town and it would be nice for them to meet the family,” Jason snorts.

'Family huh?' he doesn't dare say to Alfred.

“I believe you already met Marion today at Wayne Tower,” Jason pauses, recognising the name as the boy gave him when he was checking for a concussion.

“He’s Cat Woman’s nephew?” Jason whispers into the phone.

‘Makes sense his movements did seem similar to hers,’ Jason wonders if she properly trained them.

“Yes, although I doubt neither he nor Marinette are aware,” If Alfred was saying that it was probably true.

“Alright fine,” Jason agrees, drawing Roy's attention again.

“Very good Master Jason, I will see you this evening,"

"Bye," Jason hangs up shortly.

“You’re actually going to dinner?" Roy knows his relationship with the rest of the Bat's is testy at best, plus he broke Bruce's window today.

“Remember the civilian I told you about?” Jason plops down onto the couch next to him.

“The one who saved your butt? The one you haven't stopped talking about? The one who's kinda cute? nope,” Roy pops the 'p' turning back to his newest gadget.

“He’s going to be there,” Jason ignores Roy's taunting.

“Why?” Roy keeps fiddling with a gear.

“Apparently he’s Cat Woman's nephew,”

“What!" Roy drops the gadget, cursing as pieces scatter everywhere.

“I want to check on him, he seemed really out of it,” Jason ignores Roy's outburst.

“Wait so does that make you two like... adopted cousins in law or something?” Jason chuckles without any humour.

“In case you haven't noticed I haven't been Bruce's son for a long time,”

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miraclekittyandbug · 3 years

Text

Ten Questions With A Twist Chapter 2

Hey guys! Here’s chapter two! I’ve decided I will be posting a chapter every other day. There are seven chapters on this story and they have all already been written, so you won’t have to wait for me to write them before they can be posted. Enjoy!

~Chapter 1 ~ This Chapter ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~

Adrien was distracted. Having had a fitful night of sleep, he was mostly focused on staying awake during classes, not necessarily taking notes. Once lunch rolled around, Nino pulled Adrien to the side.

“Hey, dude, did something happen with you and Marinette?”

Adrien responded that he wasn’t sure what he meant.

“Well, you’re really distracted, and so is she, I just figured you guys got into a fight or something.”

“No, I barely talk to Marinette outside of class,” he clarified.

“So…” Nino narrowed his eyes at his friend, “So you guys aren’t secretly dating?”

Adrien’s jaw hit the floor. “What!?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’, it is so obvious you’re in love with her!”

Adrien stuttered and flung his hands, grasping at invisible somethings as he tried to figure out where the hell this came from. “It can’t be obvious, because it’s not true! What even makes you say that?”

“Well mostly the way you look at her.”

“I look at her the same way I look at anybody else!”

“Nah, dude. If you looked at my girlfriend the way you look at Marinette, we would have to have a serious conversation.”

Adrien was at a loss for words. “This is ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying!” Nino raised his hands, signifying innocence, “You guys would make a cute couple! You like her, she likes you, it isn’t a far stretch to think that something was going on. And I think you’d make each other really happy.” Adrien could only stare. “Just think about it, dude.”

Adrien thought about it for around thirty seconds. Then he saw Marinette and Alya wave himself and his friend over to eat and, though he tried to push the thought from his mind, he suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about it.

He had visions of himself and Marinette. They would sit on the same side of the table, rather than opposite sides as they sat now. He would use that excuse to lean into her, just to be more aware of her presence. He pictured going to the movies with her again and using that trick they use in movies, pretending to yawn so he could put his arm around her and hold her close. His heart did a spin at the thought, but he found himself being drawn back to reality.

“Yeah, Adrien and I will totally sit with you guys.” Nino said, and Adrien nodded, mostly to shake those thoughts out of his head. For the first time, he had to remind himself that he was in love with Ladybug. Not Marinette.

Soon enough, the group of four friends were sat around a table, chatting absentmindedly about something random. (The exact topic of discussion was unknown to Adrien. Tired as he was, he was more concerned with pushing food around his plate and not thinking about Marinette).

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Alya asked her friend. Reminding Adrien that he still had to interact with the bluenette. They were friends, after all. “You seem really out of it today.”

Adrien looked up to see that Nino had been right. Marinette was also looking really tired and distracted. She was blushing and had organized the food on her plate according to color, but was glancing up at Adrien every so often. “Yeah, I just…” She looked up and made eye contact with Adrien before outright asking, “What’s your favorite color?”

Adrien just stared at her, wide eyed and slack jawed. A million thoughts went through his head at once. He finally settled on Wow, that’s a coincidence. But that isn’t so weird, right? It is a pretty common question, even though it was kinda out of the blue. “My favorite color is green, but I’m also rather fond of orange.”

Marinette smiled and the world seemed to shine brighter for it.

The warning bell rang, signalling that they had about five minutes before lunch was to end. Both students started shovelling food into their mouths, suddenly aware of their own hunger.

A few more classes went by when they heard a scream coming from not so far away. Phones started going off left and right, alerting the entire class that an akuma had been sighted a few streets down. Ms. Bustier reacted as she normally does, calmly asking everybody to move away from the windows, calling for each student as she did so. When Marinette failed to respond to her name, the class found that she was missing.

“Didn’t she just go to the bathroom?” Rose said, stress underlying her voice.

“I’ll go find her!” Adrien quickly called, leaving the classroom before anybody had a chance to point out the fact that it wouldn’t be proper for him to search for her in the women's restroom.

Once out of the classroom, Adrien rushed towards the nearest broom closet, looking up and down the hallway to make sure there was nobody to see him. He called for his transformation and immediately vaulted out of the nearest window, ready to assist his Lady in taking down yet another bad guy.

Soon enough, the akuma was tracked down and purified. Having finished up this particular villain fairly quickly, Ladybug and Chat Noir stood back for a moment admiring their work. Ladybug decided to let Chat in on a secret.

“His favorite color is green,” She said, blushing profusely.

Chat was amazed! “That’s my favorite color too!”

Ladybug threw her yoyo and made one more comment before zipping away, “Sure, but are you rather fond of orange?” And off she went,

Too late to see Chat’s very very VERY shocked face.

And that gut feeling from the night before was back, now, and stronger than ever. But this time it was telling him to think. He went back to class and proceeded to think hard. And here’s the thing. Adrien liked to consider himself smart. And no person with two brain cells could deny that that was more than coincidental wording. That was word for word what he had told Marinette earlier that day. A moment of clarity shone through the clouds of his mind and left him with one piece of information: Ladybug goes to the same school as Adrien. It all makes sense! She must go to his school because she overheard Marinette ask him that question earlier that same day! They’re even usually at the scene of an akuma at the same time so even that makes sense! It wasn’t until fifteen minutes before class ended that the next series of realizations hit him: causing his flat hands to slam against the desk, getting everybody’s attention.

Ladybug is in love with Adrien Agreste

Adrien Agreste is secretly Chat Noir

Ladybug is in love with Chat Noir

Lucky for him, Adrien is both of those people

The entire class stared at him. His green eyes wider than they thought possible. His arms straight with his hands flat on the desk in front of him, sweat starting to gather on his collar. He only snapped out of it when Ms. Bustier waved her hand in front of his face and asked him if he was alright.

“I-uh- I just remembered I have a photoshoot after school. Nothing else. I’m good. Sorry.” He picked up his pencil and put the lead to his notebook, trying to prove that he was ready to learn now,

Ms. Bustier saw right through his act, but decided it was close enough to the end of the class anyway. “Alright, well that’s as good of a stopping place as we’ll get to today, so I’ll just remind everybody to finish their homework and that there will be a quiz on Friday.”

Adrien let out a sigh of relief. After a realization like that, he was most certainly not ready to learn. He rushed out of the room and to his locker, desperately trying to get away from prying eyes. He needed to have a conversation with his Kwamii regarding what the FUCK to do about this! His lady was in love with him! This was amazing news! But also… kind of terrible.

Ladybug was set on them not knowing each other's identity, but what did he do now? He hadn’t meant to come so close, but he had! Now he was so close to finding out who she was and he couldn’t turn back. He knew what Ladybug would say. She’d tell him to not dig further, to let it go, and to move on without looking back. Adrien didn’t think that was possible though. It was like when he and his lady both de-transformed on either side of a door. He was on one side, lonely Adrien, and on the other was the love of his life in her everyday clothes. He wanted more than anything to open that door. To view his Lady in all her citizen’s glory. But she trusted him.

So now what? They were in the same situation, but with the door slightly open. They were both about to cross that line. He looked down and could see her feet. She was wearing flats, not tennis shoes. Her pants weren’t blue like his, but he couldn’t quite make out the right color. Directly across from him, her hair was visible. Just as blue-black as it had always been. Her hair was tied back in hair ties rather than ribbons like her superhero alter ego. Her eyes were deep blue and staring right back at him and the rest of her face…

That’s as far as he got. As he stepped into the back of the car with Gorilla at the wheel, he let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. That feeling was back again and it told him that he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t drop it when he was so close, just inches away from knowing who she truly was.

And so, he had decided. And as easy as that, a plan started to form. A way that would bring him and his lady closer than they had ever been.

~~~~~~~~~~~

And there’s chapter two! I’m working on another fic after this one that’s a little similar, but that one is going to take a while, so feel free to leave requests in my inbox! I really look forward to writing for you!

Chapter 1 ~ This Chapter ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~

#10qwat #miraculous ladybug fic #miraculous fic #mlb identity reveal #adrientte

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