#she was apologetic just hadnt been facing us

[thecthonaut]

sometimes i really dont understand people, was in subway and this guy was trying to jump the queue and like the lady was already making mine and my mums sub and asking us stuff and he just squeezed round my wheelchair hacking and coughin and touching the glass and standing up at the till like he was gonna get served before us if he just barged past

#he didnt #he had to move while my mum paid and then he got his #personal #but the rudeness about my chair was annoying #a funny couple behind us was nice tho #guy picked his gf up and out the way for me to roll past which was funny #she was apologetic just hadnt been facing us

[therealpontius]

OMG OMG a fic where reader is sexually inexperienced as well as a virgin and Chris pontius is the Caring gently guide boyfriend, helping them/her/him with they're first time.

For the first time…

Chris pontius x reader (smut)

Plot: chris helps you loose your virginity…

Warnings: pain, praise, walking in to someone masterbating (?)

"Whats he like?" The question you heard non stop "whats she like?" The question he heard non stop. Not a day went by that you didnt feel guilty for chris, he was experienced with sex yet your a virgin and werent up to loosing your virginity anytime soon. Chris didnt mind though, he was more than happy but his disappointment and impatience was growing.

"Okay babe im just going for a shower" chris announced, lifting himself off the bed. You smiled lovingly up at him "okay babe, might join you later" everyone thought it was weird that you two were openly naked infront of eachother but not sexually active. "Okay babe" he disappeared into the bathroom and no longer than you couldve gotten comfy in your shared bed the shower blasted on. After weeks of saying you might join him you decided you finally would again.

You stripped off and headed to the bathroom. Knocking didnt seem convenient since he was your boyfriend. You entered the bathroom with a smile, expecting to see chris cleaning himself up. Instead you were met with chris playing with himself, mouth hung open and eyes screwed shut, leaning against the shower glass. He hadnt noticed your arrival through the blinding pleasure and the thundering shower water which gave you two options.

Option number one: walk out in a hurry to save the embarrassment, could possibly catch his attention only making the situation more awkward than option number two.

Option number two: let him know that you were there, he would get supper embarrassed and apologetic. Wouldn't embarrass you as much though.

"Or..." you thought to yourself

Option number three (?): finally do stuff with him, hes clearly wanting to have sex if hes hiding himself away to masterbate. Plus it helps you to not keep the anxiety of having to do it for the first time

Option three sounds better right?

You sneaked next to him, he still hadnt really noticed but he began to whimper softly. You anxiously brought your lips to his neck. he jumped when he felt you, looking down at you in utter shock and stopping his pumps. "Its okay baby you can continue" you softly reassured him "is this like.. you know" "yeah, im ready" with that he turned off the shower and brought you into a tight hug "cmon babe lets go to the bedroom"

Once you made it to your shared bedroom, chris offered for you to lie down on the bed. After you done as he asked he crawled over you, a sweet smile plastered on his face that calmed you right down "are you sure honey?" "Absolutely, ive waited too long and its not fair on you" "i could wait an eternity for you" chris began sloppily kissing your neck, you held back a giggle from his beard tickling you. His kisses trailed down to your belly, with each one he made sure to look at you and made sure you weren't uncomfortable. "Im going to finger you to make it ease you up. Is that okay?"

Suddenly you were filled with anxiety. What if it hurts REALLY bad? Ive never been fingered before, what if im bad at receiving it?

As if he caught on "your going to be fine babe, im here to look after you and make this feel as good as it can for you. We can stop whenever you are wanting" you both paused again "does it hurt?" "At first, yes. But when you get used to it it feels fuckin amazing. And no doubt youll be used to it tonight" once again, you paused from nerves. "Okay baby im ready".

Chris continued his kisses down to just where you clit was, stopping and putting one of his fingers in his mouth "ill go slow, dont worry" you pinched your eyes together in fear as he removed his finger. Softly chris parted your legs and entered his finger making you gasp, it wasnt as sore as you thought it would be. The sensation was really weird and new to you and as the pace slowly got quicker you looked down to chris for approval, his eye caught yours and he gave you a warm smile "this okay?" "Yeah babe it feels kinda good" a chuckle sounded from him as he puts his finger up to your clit and slowly starts rubbing it. "Im going to do two now, remember tell me whenever you want me to stop" you nodded to him, not really scared since you took the first one well. Chris slowly inserted two fingers into you and you gasped in pain, gritting your teeth together.

"Will i stop?" "No babe, continue" you felt uneasy and scared incase it wouldnt get any better but as he continued slowly the pain got more bearable and your uncomfortable shifting slowed down, moans letting themself thread out your mouth softly. "Good girl, i love you so much" you let a small laugh escape your mouth in pure joy "i love you more... i think i might be ready" "really?" You nodd in response, feeling the anxiety crawl up your neck again.

“Okay babe ill do this slow” he sits up away from you and holds his dick up to your entrance. You feel him slowly push his tip in, it felt more sore than you thought it would “FUCK OUCH” you squeal, chris instantly pulling out “nonono keep going” you reassure him, his hand slithers into yours as he continues to try and push into you. You bit your lip in utter pain, screwing your eyes so tight you thought they would never loosen again. You felt yourself stretching around him, soft huffs coming from his mouth “are you okay darling?” “Yeah” you reply shakily “your doing so good im so proud of you” he kissed your hand softly, his dick only half way in.

“Thats me in babe, this next part is going to be sore but your doing so good i cant believe it!” He praised, kissing your cheek softly. The feeling of him being sweet yet making you feel the most pain in your life clashing like sweet and sour. “Okay babe just do what you have to do” he begins pulling out and you let out a deep gasp “your okay darling” chris ran his free hand over your hair and over your cheek softly to help you cope.

Loosing your virginity is hard enough without it being to a literal meat bat.

He pushed in before he was fully out, the pain was there but it was easier to take. Five minutes later the pleasure was kicking in and he sped up alittle, you both moaned quitley. “Good girl, im so proud of you” you laughed alittle at his praising. Your arms wrapped arounf his neck and your brought him in for a sloppy kiss while he started to speed up alot faster than his previous pace. You both moaned into the others mouth, tongues intertwining into a hungry kiss that he had been waiting for forever.

He picked up from his normal pace and sat up, moving his thumb down to your clit. Your moans became alot louder making in let out a deep laugh “stop laughing!” You laugh, grabbing onto his wrist “i cant help it your so cute”.

You had read in multiple fanfics ‘the knot in your stomach’ they always said, you giggled and thought it was just some stupid way to describe the beginning of the end but it really was like that, you felt like a genuine knot was being tied in your stomach.

“Chris… i might finish soon” he kept going, resting his hand on your cheek “youll know when babe, ill finish on your stomach” “are you almost finished?” He nodded and smiled down at you. Your legs shook like jelly and you felt the knot undo its self, the release so freeing. Chris groaned at feeling you tightening around him, bitting his lip (as you did when he first started) like he was about to bite it off.

“Fuck” he gasped, pulling out and pumping himself over your naked body. After a significantly harsher pump his warm cum splatted onto your belly that rose and fell aggressively. “Fuck babe, you done so good” chris praised, standing up. The tiredness took over your body like a tsunami, barley able to speak “thankyou…” you muttered.

Chris made his way out the room for abit, you werent to sure how long from drifting off but he arrived again with a cup of tea and a wash cloth.

“Cmon dear wake up so i can clean you properly” you rub your eyes “im awake, im awake”. Softly he parted your legs, cleaning you up with a cold cloth “oh my god chris!” You yelp from the coldness “well im definitely awake now” you both chuckle “have your tea when im cleaning up then i have a surprise for after.” He beamed, pointing towards your mug that read ‘keep calm, my boyfriends bunny the life guard’

You slowly sipped on your tea admiring him, no man could ever treat anyone as well as he treats you. “Im going to do your belly now its going to be cold” he pre warned, giggling slightly like he was enjoying the aftercare more than anything. Softly he cleaned your belly making you gasp from the change from warm sweat to freezing cold water “thats you all cleaned let me put the stuff away, think of a movie while im gone”

Your eyes were fighting to close while you waiting, mind barley able to think of anything. “Thought of something?” He asks from the door frame “you pick honey i want you to have a treat too” he smiled and made his way over to the dvd stand “ive already had my treat babe”. He picked out Jurassic park and ran over to the bed “your going to love this” slowly he lifted a box from under the bed, in the box contained loads of packaged chocolates “oh my god!” You gasped “babe thankyou! Why do you have this though?” He handed the box to you and proudly said “well ive had them for awhile for when i need to do my first aftercare, i wanna do it right”

He lay on the bed, letting you lie on his chest “honey you have done more than right this is so perfect, you made it so enjoyable” softly he ran his finders through your scalp making you sleepy “ill eat them when i wake up” you trail off, excepting that no way in hell you would be able to stay awake any longer “you eat them whenever you want, close your beautiful eyes. Ill be here when you wake up” “id hope so” you laughed, kissing his chest.

He spent the next four hours watching movies and cuddling you until he eventually drifted off too…

#jackass #chris pontius #wildboyz #mtv jackass #fanfic

[novannna]

If your still doing the writing asks... can I get angst 27 please! Any renegade ship is fine (can't choose lol)

ahhh im so sorry this took so long to post, i kinda forgot it existed then saw the doc and remembered i hadnt answered it 😭

also, i am still doing these!!!! I'd love it for people to send me sentence prompts (here)

i did danissa bc im literally incapable of not writing sapphics asgsdak

danissa break up fic, wc: 1003

Narcissa had always loved fairy tales. The way things always seemed to work out.

They followed a simple path, never changing.

Always once upon a time, and happily ever after. The things in the middle didn’t seem to matter.

Maybe a bit foolishly, Narcissa had wished for a fairy tale of her own. Her own knight in shining armor, her own happily ever after.

It was silly, looking back, but the Age of Anarchy sucked, and fairy tales were all Narcissa had.

But she’d grown older, and those fantasies of living out her own fairy tale faded. She didn't have any hope of a happily ever after. Looking out at the things around her, she had begun to believe that didn’t even exist.

There’d be no fairy tale ending. Because, everywhere around her, there was pain, and suffering, and loss. Those weren’t things in fairy tales, those were things from nightmares. Narcissa couldn’t believe she was in a fairy tale, because no fairy tale would ever be that dark.

They were supposed to be light, and happy, and hopeful, but in Gatlon, there was none of that.

So, Narcissa simply gave up that hope of knights, and fairies, and kisses that brought you back from the dead.

Those were simply things from stories.

Those were as fake as happily ever after.

---

Narcissa sat curled in a ball, pressing herself further into the couch. “Danna, what do you want to talk about?” There was that sinking feeling in her gut, but she pushed it away. This was fine, Danna was probably just wanting to talk about some new, big step in their lives. Maybe she wanted to move in together?

It had to be something positive, right?

Fuck, it had to be.

“Narcissa…” Danna looked away from Narcissa’s face. Her arms, her shoulder, her long braid, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Yes?” It was a struggle to keep her voice light. The look in Danna’s eyes…

No. Narcissa refused to consider it.

Danna cursed, and looked at her own fingers, furiously twisting and untwisting the loose fabric of her shirt. “You aren’t making this easy,” she muttered.

“Making what easy?” She tried to smile, but knew it was more of a queasy grimace.

“I really care about you. I think you’re great, really, I do. But.. we need to start to think about our future.” Danna took in a deep breath. “And- and what role we’ll play in each other’s.”

Narcissa could feel the tears pooling. She tried swallowing past the growing lump in her throat. “Danna,” she whispered. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t want to do this, but I have to. This is one of the hardest things I’ve done, because it’s you, Narcissa and I don’t want to hurt you.” Danna finally met Narcissa’s eyes. “I think we need to split up.”

Narcissa blinked. Blinked again. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.

She tried to breathe in, keep on taking measured, even breaths. Not give in to the panic threatening to overtake her.

“Narcissa,” Danna pleaded. She sounded apologetic. As if she could begin to comprehend the rush of emotion Narcissa was feeling. “Say something. Please.”

Narcissa shook her head. “What is there to say?” She whispered in a hoarse voice.

“Please, ‘Cissa..”

“Don’t… don’t call me that.” Narcissa looked up, blinking the stinging tears away.

Danna nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “Just say something.”

“I… why?” Narcissa looked at Danna again. “We’ve been through so much.”

“I care about you a lot, but just… forever’s a long time.”

“And you don’t want to spend it with me,” Narcissa finished.

“I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t not say that either,” Narcissa shot back.

“I just don’t think we’re right for each other.”

Narcissa shook her head. “I did. I used to think that I’d live out a fairy tale life, and that I’d get a happily ever after. But I grew up, and realized those weren’t for me.” She swallowed, trying to get air past the lump in her throat. “Then I met you. I started to believe that maybe I could make my own happily ever after with you. I thought you could be my knight in shining armor. I started believing in fairy tales again. And now… now you’re saying that nothing we had was real? Our feelings for each other.. They were just some temporary thing.” Or worse, they’d just never even had them.

Danna shook her head. “That’s not what I’m saying! Narcissa, I really loved you, that’s not fake. Just, feelings change over time. We aren’t who we were. Things changed, we changed. I’m not saying everything is over. I just think we need to think about long term, and I think that we aren’t the best thing for each other. We both need to move on.”

“What happened to our happily ever after?” Narcissa whispered, eyes shining with tears.

“Not all love stories get happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.”

“No. I can’t believe that.”

“Well, you’re going to have to,” Danna said brusquely, but not unkindly.

Still, the words sent daggers into Narcissa’s heart.

“I think you should go,” Narcissa whispered.

Danna nodded. “That’s probably best.” She tried to smile, tears gleaming in her own eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Will you be okay?”

Narcissa nodded jerkily. “I can’t do this. Please just.. Just go. Don’t pretend everything’s fine.” She looked away. “I can’t be around you. Not right now.”

Danna opened her mouth, but closed it just as quickly. Instead, she stood, and walked towards the door.

Narcissa followed numbly.

Danna paused in the doorway, looking as if she was going to lean in, and kiss Narcissa goodbye.

She flinched, and shook herself. “Good night, Narcissa. I’ll see you around?”

Narcissa nodded. “I guess.”

Danna waved awkwardly, and stepped outside, letting the door swing shut.

Narcissa slid to her knees, and buried her face into her hands.

Happily ever afters really were just a thing in fairy tales.

#danissa #danna bell #narcissa cronin #danna x narcissa #renegades #wlwrenegades #archenemies #supernova #angst #i actually really liked writing this fic #and am v happy w how it turned out #which is surprising #anyways please like/rb/leave comments #i need constant validation #my writing #ask #anon #fic request

[fallingfor-fics]

Teachers Pet-chapter 21: occlumency

All chapters

Chapter 20

"So how is this gonna work?" I said taking off my robes and laying them on the table. He finally looked at me and for a second and looked as if he was already tired of me. I folded my arms waiting for instructions. "First off I want to know what you know already?" he asked leaning against his desk. "Well Beauxbatons taught me pretty much everything well I read a book there about it, except how to actually do either" I said smiling up at him. 

He hummed in response and thought for a moment "And may I ask for the real reason as to why you want to do this?" he said brows furrowed. I looked around for a second thinking up a good excuse. "I just don't want anyone in my head" I said looking down. "And you would also like to get into people's heads as well?" he said a sarcastic look on his face at my doubled sided statement. "Well why did you learn how?" I said looking at him and leaning against my table. "I had to." he said in a cold tone as if to say don't ask anymore questions. "Look if you don't want to do this you don't have to," I said looking sad and turning to grab my robes. "Y/n it's fine, plus Albus suggested that it wasn't such a bad idea" he said quietly, I paused for a moment, turning to him confused. He told Dumbledore? "What? You talked to Dumbledore about me?" I said more confused and worried than anything. He sat up straight off his desk and his face displayed a look of guilt almost. Like he wasn't supposed to say that. "Yes, I asked him for permission." he said turning and fiddling with papers on his desk. I'm not amazing at reading Severus since he was so hard to read, but I sensed he was lying and walked over to him. "Why did he think it was a good idea?" I said suspiciously and raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth to speak but then paused for a moment. "You'll have to ask him yourself." he said, still not looking at me, whatever he wasn't telling me I would find out one way or  another. "Severus" I said in a more confident tone, to which he looked up at me with a glare. "Are there people that want to invade my mind?" I said spitting out any conspiracies I was cooking up in my head, I remembered the night when I was spying on him and Dumbledore's conversation about the Death eaters in Hogsmeade, they were talking about a girl and I still wondered if it was me, and that's why he was so secretive. "What no of course not if there were I'm sure you'd know" he said reverting back to his normal cold tone. As if he could intimidate me at this point. "Let's begin shall we?" he said, stepping around from behind his desk.

We stood apart from each other but first Snape raised his wand locking the doors. I looked back from the door to him, I guess he didn't want anyone to disturb our lesson. "Relax, and clear your mind of all thoughts and emotions, make it blank and calm" he said in his silky voice. Yeah cause this is so easy to do when all I can think about is the very man in front of me. "Okay." I said closing my eyes and doing my best to clear my head. "I'm going to attempt to enter your mind, now this may seem scary if you don't succeed in deflecting it, but it's going to be hard to get it on your first try." he said in a more apologetic tone, "Try not to see all my thoughts please" I said worried, I was determined to not let him in at all, I couldn't risk him seeing my feelings for him, I didn't consider the part about him actually having to try to read my mind in order for me to protect it. "I can only see if you allow it, now once I say the word you are going to start out with a simple shielding spell, or you can try a disarming spell on me understand?" he said and I nodded smiling "Although I prefer you don't do the second" he said in a serious tone.

I closed my eyes once more and cleared my head, numbing my body and looking into my mind and silencing everything else around me. I took a deep breath and slowly nodded my head, my hands sweaty, signaling I was ready. Shield my mind, this should be easy. I pulled my wand from my skirt and steadied my feet. "You must shut down your mind the minute I speak and the moment you feel me get into your head, it's going to be tricky your first try, so be prepared." he said softly. I kept my eyes closed, I didn't want to risk looking into his eyes and leaving my mind vulnerable. "Is it going to hurt?" I asked before he began. "No, although it may uncover hurtful memories" he said in a more somber tone. I shook my head and got ready. I heard him let out a breath and felt him raise his wand, "Legilimens" he said softly. I could feel him enter my mind almost instantly, it was a strange feeling, just them I saw memories flash before my eyes. Me seeing my mom cry, it was like I was on display for him to see, I was almost in that moment again. I tapped her shoulder, she yelled at me. Snape was trying to stay out of the more personal parts of my mind, although that was a difficult task. It was gone fast as soon as it ended, a new one popped up. My first day at Beauxbatons, a big smile on my face as I walked in, my blue shiny new uniform. Another, my second year, the mean girls that picked on me, this was when they decided to ruin all my textbooks by throwing them in the toilets. He seemed to move on quicker from that one, then it was my fourth year, my sister was talking to me about defending myself against them, teaching me the spell to get them off my back, her smile and her comforting voice, telling me "you won't have anymore issues with them" smiling and hugging me. I tried shielding my mind, I didn't want to see anymore, and I didnt want him to see them either. I kept muttering a shielding spell trying to focus it but it didn't work. I felt him exit my head and I opened my eyes with a small gasp.

   "Are you ok?" he said in a comforting tone. I looked up at him breathing out, "Yes, im fine, I tried but clearly it didn't work." I said looking down. "That is ok we can take a break." he said softly. "No lets go again" I said confidently, I was gonna figure this out one way or another, and taking a break wouldn't help. "As you wish." I closed my eyes again taking a deep breath and making sure my mind was empty again, I focused on the quiet and tried my best to not have a single thought. He raised his wand "Legilimens" he said once again and I tried my hardest to shield it, I didn't feel him in my head yet, but I could feel him fighting it, I pushed as hard as I could to resist it, but I let it slip by thinking about the man that was standing before me that was watching out for me. This time he was in a different part of my head. Me and my sister watching a movie, turning up the volume to drown out the sound of our parents arguing, "they are foolish" she said trying to lighten the mood, "I wonder what they argue about all the time" I said looking at the door, "Nothing important" she reassured me smiling down at me and turning back to the movie. I squeezed my fist around my wand trying to get him out, but another memory began to play, this one more deep. I was standing in the living room, my dad going on about how Albus shouldn't visit anymore. I never understood why he had a newfound hatred for the kind man, it almost came out of nowhere, the same time he began to grow cold to us and changed into a man that wasn't my father. A man that didn't care. "But dad I don't understand? What did he do?" I said, raising my voice to him. "Thats none of your concern! It's between him and me!" he yelled, "He's my godfather you can't just kick him out of my life for no reason!" I yelled back, I was never afraid to fight my father. He continued yelling, but Snape skipped through. The next one that showed up was a particularly dark day, I was sitting on the stairs, wearing a black dress I had stashed away now, tears rolling down my cheeks. It was the day of my sister's funeral. My mom and Dad stood in the living room not aware of my presence, they were arguing as usual, I never understood why they couldn't remain civil for one day. "Our daughter is right upstairs and she just lost her sister, we do not need her hearing us argue today!" my mother yelled at him, I couldn't recall what they had been arguing about in the first place. "I know i'm not an idiot!" he yelled hands up in the air, "This is all your fault and you know it, thats why you wont even bring yourself to talk to her, Constance would still be here if you hadnt made that stupid mistake!" my mom cried out. I always wondered what she meant by this, I never understood why she would blame my father, as far as I knew what had happened was not something we could have prevented. I never brought myself to ask. I stood from my spot on the stairs and they looked over in my direction. I looked at them with a cold expression, "You're an awful person" I said to my father with tears in my eyes, "Connie knew it, and I know it, and so do you." he grew red in the face as I continued. "I don't know what's infected your mind, what's caused you to act...crazy, but you need to kill it before someone else does!" I said, raising my voice, venom lacing every word. This was the most morbid thing I'd said to my father, but I never punished myself for saying it. "You little bitch! Who do you think you are talking to?" he said growing more angry, he began stepping closer to me getting in my face, I didn't falter, I was never gonna let this man know he got to me. "It should have been you, a million times it should have been you!" I yelled, hot tears running down my face, only this time I could actually feel them, and they were real. He grew nearer and I recalled what happened next, this wasn't something I wanted Severus to continue to watch, almost forgetting he was in my mind uncovering these messes, I squeezed my eyes tight and fought with everything in me, shielding the rest of my brain and slowly attempting to shove him out. I needed to be able to do this, I know I can. He ended the memory and a new one popped up, I was taken aback not expecting him to get to this part. It was the night in the astronomy tower, he was there talking to me. No he can't see this, he would find out too much, and I would never be able to face him again. I pushed this memory out controlling my emotions to where it was out of his reach, and blocked off, it only triggered another memory, this one even more recent. I was brewing Amortentia, Draco had just taken a whiff, It was my turn. Come on y/n don't let him get this far, focus. "Your turn! Better hope it doesn't smell like filch!" I leaned over the cauldron taking in the scent. No come on focus calm yourself, he cant find out. Leather shoes. Relax. Parchment. Clear your mind of all emotions. Firewhiskey. I released my grip on my wand, relaxing my whole body and resisting, pushing him out further and further. The memory slowly faded away. Come on. I let out a breath and the memory disappeared completely. I felt nothing and my body was cold. I opened my eyes and saw Severus standing in front of me, somber look on his face, breathing heavily. I turned away from him, sniffling and quickly wiping the tears off my face. I didn't want to see his expression. He knows why I was crying and why I wouldn't tell him. "Y/n." he said calmly. I breathed out, my heart beating fast. "Y/n look at me" he said softly. I fiddled with my fingers and turned back to him, not looking in his face still. What is he gonna think? What will he do? I can't even fathom what he's gonna say. "I'm sorry." he said kindly "What for? You just did what you needed." I said shaking my head and looking up at him. "You did good, it was your first try and you were able to get me out." he said with a small smile. "And what about what you saw?" I said looking in his deep black eyes. I needed to know, I didn't want him ignoring it. I needed to know what he thought or else I would go insane. He stepped closer to me, "Your sister seemed lovely" was all he said and I looked at him confused, "And your father was indeed as you described him" he added. What was he talking about? Doesn't he know this isn't what I meant? He's a smart man, why is he being so oblivious. "That's not what I'm talking about," I said quietly. He looked in my eyes and almost stared through me, reading my expression, he stiffened up a bit, but his face seemed apologetic. "I see no need in picking through your personal matters Y/n" he said, turning to walk over to his desk. I picked up my wand and followed him over. He can't just leave it at that. Not after what he's just learned. "This was a bad idea, I should have never suggested we do this, I let my pride get in the way and didn't consider the consequences" I said looking down at my feet. "Ms. L/n I do not know what you mean, you did exceptionally well." He said in his more normal cold abrasive tone. "My Amortentia" I stated, looking up at him to try and read any expression he may have, he looked away for a moment then back at me. "It's late, we have taken up a lot of time, you should go to your dormitory, we will continue on Friday. And i'll see you for tutoring tomorrow" he retorted sitting down in his chair and grabbing papers to grade. I stood shocked, why was he avoiding it? Was he gonna tell Dumbledore? Was he gonna have me expelled? But he just sat there not giving me another thought. I grabbed my robes and slowly walked towards the door. "Goodnight Y/n, I'm very proud of how well you did." he said in his usual tone, not looking up from his papers. Why wouldn't he talk about it? Were we just going to pretend like nothing happened? Did he not understand what this meant? I had so many questions. I took a breath easing my thoughts. "Goodnight Severus" I said as I walked out and headed to my room.

#snape imagine #severusnape #professor snape #snape #severus snape #severusimagine #severus x reader #severus snape x reader #hogwarts #Snape slowburn #slytherin

[cevansfics]

Broken Glass part 1

Part 2

Paring: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You and Chris broke up recently, you try to covince yourself and your friends you're fine, but how do you really feel when you see him at a party unexpectedly?

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption

A/N: let me know what you think :), thinking about doing a part 2 also of you want to be tagged let me know :)

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Waking up to the sun beaming through the little gap in the curtains, you roll over to see the time. Already mid day. Stretching to try and wake yourself up, looking over to the side of the bed he used to occupy. It's been four month of waking up alone. You thought you would be used to it by now. Your mind drifts to some of those mornings, the surprises when you would make breakfast in bed, ones where you would wake up to him staring at you, first thing you hear is him telling you how beautiful you look. Or the cold mornings when the night before you fell asleep wrapped and tangled with each other only to wake the same way. God did you miss those days.

A banging on your door pulled you from your thoughts. Rushing to look presentable, you open it to see your two best friends smiling before pushing you out of the way to enter your apartment.

“Please, do come in,” you say after the fact sarcastically.

Claire rushed off towards your bathroom, quickly saying hi. “She's been moaning about needing to pee for about an hour, but you know what she’s like, won't use public restrooms.” Nina rolls her eyes explaining, before gesturing to what’s you are wearing, “Late start to the day?”

“Yeah, I slept in sue me.”

“So,” Claire made you jump reentering the room clapping her hands. “What’s the plan for this evening?”

“I haven’t asked her yet.” Nine explained, taking a sip from her drink you’d just given her

“Plans?” You asked cautiously, nothing ever good came from Claire’s ‘plans’

“Us three, tonight, party time.” She exclaimed excitedly

“I don’t really feel like going to a club.”

“Not a club. A friend of a friend got this big penthouse and is throwing a party.”

“A friend of a friend?” Eyeing her, that usually meant a friend of a guy she was sleeping with, but she just shrugged.

“Come on Y/N, you need to get back out there. Conquer the world,” Nina added.

“That’s the last thing I need. I love you guys but you know I’m not ready for that.” You’d lost count how many times you had this conversation with these two. You know they have your best interests at heart but you don't feel ready. Truth is you’re still not over him.

God. Even after all this time you still can't bring yourself to even say his name, but more times a day than you’d care to admit your mind wanders off, thinking of him. His smile, the way he looked at you when you were rambling on about something you were passionate about. The date nights. The nights out with friends. Him holding you close letting everyone know you were with him. When he would get a little tipsy and become even more handsy, even more so once you were alone. Holding you so close all you could feel was the warmth radiating off his body. The way his lips would trace along your….

“Y/N!” Nina was waving her hand in front of your face. “You zone out, where were you?”

“I-I was just thinking.” You feel the heat rush to your cheek, clearing your throat to shake off those thoughts.

Claire was rooting through your fridge looking for something to drink. “Let's make a promise to make tonight about us then, go to the party, drink a few and just have a good time just us girls. You know we haven’t done that in the longest time.” You have to admit she did make a good point. You’d all been working so much and haven’t seen each other as much as you use too. If tonight was just about you three having a good time and them not trying to hook you up with someone, maybe you could cope.

“Okay, I’m in.” They both jumped up and down like excited like school children.

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The rest of the afternoon was a blur. Claire had another great idea that they get ready for the night and come back to yours as your apartment was closest to where you were going. So they left to get clothes and overnight bags with everything they might need. You stayed home showered and quickly had something to eat. Before yo knew it you were in an Uber on your way to the party. Pulling up outside a fancy building already crowded with peoples. You began to wonder just who this ‘friend’ was who was hosting the party.

Swiftly you all made your way through the crowds into the elevator.

“Whos party is this exactly?” You know you asked before but you were more curious now with your surroundings.

“Some guy, Sebastian, I think.” She shrugged, pushing the button for the correct floor and the doors started to close.

Surely it couldn’t be that Sebastian. That’s a common enough name right?

The doors open to a giant room, filled with hundreds of people. Or at least it looked that way. Lights flashing, music thumping in your ears, you could barely hear your own thoughts never mind someone else. You feel a shove at your shoulder, its Claire holding three shots. How did she already have something to drink, you’d only been there about 3 minutes. Regardless you and Nina both took one. Claire held up her drink, it looked like she was making a speech, but you couldn’t hear a thing she was saying. Looking at Nina, she didn’t have a clue either, she just held up her own drink clinking it with Claire’s, so you did the same.

Several shots late, you were starting to feel a little heated and tipsy. Completely throwing caution to the wind all there of you were dancing, laughing and enjoying yourselves. You feel someone tapping you so you turned to see who it was.

It was Sebastian Stan. You hadnt seen him since before you and Chris broke up.

Chris.

Thats the first time you said his name, even if it was just in your head it had you feeling all sorts of things. The alcohol probably didnt help.

Sebastian pulled you into a tight hug. Automatically you hugged him back. Yes he was Chris’s friend but over the course of your relationship you had become friends with him too. Shouting in your ear, still you could barely hear him. He asked if you were okay, and apologised that he hasn't spoken to much since everything had happened.

Pulling away you were afraid to say anything. All sorts of emotions were building up inside of you. Your only response was giving him a thumbs up and a smile you hoped was believable. Must have been convincing enough because you gave you one more quick hug before moving on through the crowd.

Turning back to your friends Claire gives you an apologetic look, she seems to have put two and two together. Quickly glancing round, looking for a bathroom, you see some stairs and take off. Taking the stairs two at a time, heading down the hallway that seems to have less and less people as you walked down it. Finally reaching The bathroom. A rush of emotions hit you, it's like you couldn’t breathe. Pacing around the bathroom you start feeling dizzy, deciding to rest on the edge of the bath, trying to calm yourself down, slowly, taking deep breaths until your breathing is back to normal and the rooms no longer spinning. There’s a harsh knock in the door and someone calling your name. It’s Claire and Nina.

Opening the door you let them enter.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really didn’t realise it was his party.” Claire said quickly.

Taking a deep breath before you start talking, “I know, I know. It's fine really. I don't even know why I freak out so much it’s not even like I saw him. I guess just seeing Seb and knowing they are friends made all those feelings I thought I pushed away come right back up.”

“If you want to leave, we under-”

“No,” you cut her off. “I’m fine like I said I don't even really know what just happened. This night was for us, so let’s just go and enjoy ourselves.”

“Okay” they both say at the same time.

Heading back down stairs you all got another drink and went back to dancing. Hours must have passed, you were still going. You were genuinely enjoying yourself, just dancing with your girls. You saw Seb a couple more times as the night went on but you didn't see anyone else you knew.

Until.

Nina made a signal as though she was going to get another drink and Claire and you both nodded while dancing. Suddenly Claire grabbed your arm, you looked at her to see what was going on but she wasn’t looking at you, she was looking over your shoulder into the crowd of people. Following her eyeline to see what’s happening you see a group of men all laughing and shouting. The group parted and you saw him.

Chris.

The room seemed to go silent. There he was. Not quite right in front of you, but the other side of the room. Which quickly felt a lot smaller than it actually was. Everything was happening in slow motion. He just stood there, laughing and joking with his friends holding a beer, typical, god did he look good. You felt like you were staring at him an awfully long time but you didn’t care. Then he noticed you, but you still couldn’t look away. Now you were just two people in a crowded room starting at each other. From an outsider's perspective it probably looked a little weird. Then he did something, something you thought if you saw in person again it would break you. He smiled at you.

Do something, you kept repeating in your head over and over again.

Move. Smile. Look away. Anything, just stop staring.

You managed a little wave of your hand causing his smile to grow. He got pulled back into his conversation with his friends. That’s when everything came rushing back into focus. The room you were in, the people, the flashing lights, the thumping music. You wanted to leave, you needed to get out but you couldn’t move. Turning towards Claire, you grab her arm to keep you balanced before she pulls you in for a hug.

Tags:

@chris-butt

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #my writing

[shhh-no-ones-home]

cut in izzy stradlin x reader

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overprotective izzy? yeah kinda lol Crazy fan encounter gone bad (blood tw)

song: I'm lost without you by blink-182

tag list: @cynic-spirit @satans-arse @slashscowboyboots @smokeandmirrorz

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i sat in the booth with my arms wrapped around my torso, trying to make myself as small as possible. i felt very uncomfortable in the space, knowing everyone around us was staring. i knew they werent looking at me, i was just the plus one to this gnr dinner extravaganza. of course that wasnt what it actually was but it felt like it. there was paparazzi outside trying to get in, women practically falling over themselves to talk to the guys, and fans gawking from around the room. the body guards were diligent to keep us away from them when we came in but it was harder to do that now. i felt something touch my back, causing me to spin around and see some girl with a few strands of my hair in her hand. my eyes went wide as we stared at each other.

"can i help you?"

i asked a little bewildered. izzy finally realized what was happening and took something out of her other hand.

"get out of here!"

he yelled, dropping it on the table. i shook my head and turned back around, now realizing that she was holding scissors.

"what the fuck?"

i asked, picking them up. i looked to izzy.

"did she cut my fucking hair?!"

i practically yelled, pulling it forward to look at it. he shushed me, sitting a little closer than before.

"no, babe, she did not cut your hair. its fine."

i looked at him like he was crazy.

"what do you mean its fine? she could have cut my hair! or worse! stabbed me!"

he sat in silence for a second, staring at the shiny new pair of scissors on the table.

"yeah, i hadnt thought of that, thats not fuckin cool."

he said, leaning back. my eyes got wide as he shimmied up out of the booth, standing on the bench itself before climbing over the backrest.

"what? where are you going?"

i called, one of the guards turning and following him.

"what happened?"

duff asked, from the other side of the table. i looked at him a little shocked.

"some fan just tried to cut my hair."

i said, sliding the scissors to him before looking back over the booth. i could see Izzy walking quickly across the room. i frowned before doing what he did and lifting my body up and over the backrest of the booth.

"what are you doing?"

duff asked, standing to get a better look at where i was going. i walked quickly across the room to get to izzy and the one guard. i knew i shouldnt have but i couldnt help myself. if he was getting Justice for me I sure as hell was gonna be there for it.

"look!"

i heard someone call. i was less than three feet away from him when another woman stopped in front of me.

"how dare you take him away from me! izzy stradlin is the love of my life! its not fair that you get to date him and i dont."

she said firmly, almost yelling.

"look, i dont know you but im sure he would think youre lovely. ill let him know you said hi."

i told her before side stepping and going to walk around her. i was one, maybe two steps away when she grabbed my head, full fist of hair in her hand.

"i said he was mine!"

she yelled, pulling me backwards. the next thing i knew i was on my back, staring at the ceiling in a daze. everything went quiet for a moment and i could see the guard grabbing her. i blinked a few times only to see izzy knelt over me, his hand waving in front of my face. i offered him a lazy smile.

"hey babe."

i slurred out. he looked angelic with the ceiling lights casting over him.

"oh god."

was all i heard before he called out for someone else, the sounds not making their way into my ears.

"izzy i dont feel so good."

i said, trying to sit up. everything was blurry and the room was spinning around me. he held me up, a hand placed firmly at my back.

"fuck, youre bleeding."

he said and i could finally feel the stinging at the back of my head. i blinked slowly before leaning over and throwing up all over the floor. he caught me before i could fall forward, holding my hair back.

"easy."

he cooed. i breathed heavily, feeling tears stinging my eyes.

"izzy i wanna go home."

i whined, feeling the tears slip down my cheeks. he nodded, looking over my face with a panicked expression on his face.

"okay baby, we can go home, but first we gotta get you to a doctor. okay? we're gonna make you feel better."

i nodded slowly but stopped when i felt like i was gonna hurl again. i held my hand over my mouth. then i heard sirens.

"did you find the girl with the scissors?"

i said. it sounded gross coming out though, like my tongue was three sizes too big for my mouth. i looked down in confusion. he laughed a little bit, maybe it didnt sound the same for him.

"yeah but that doesnt matter right now, the paramedics are gonna take you so we can stop the bleeding."

i half smiled at him.

"are we gonna ride in the am, amu?"

he examined my face,

"ambulance?"

he asked and my face lit up.

"thats it!"

i slurred out and he nodded.

"yeah, theyre right here baby, just hold on."

i looked up as the stretcher was dropped to the ground beside me, one of the emt's shining a flashlight in my eyes. i blinked away from them.

"can you tell me your name and birthday maam?"

he asked and i frowned at him. i thought for a second.

"y/n."

was all i said, looking at him deadpan.

"can you tell me your birthdate?"

he asked again.

"tomorrow?"

i asked and he looked to izzy.

"well by looks of it you probably have a concussion but we're gonna have to take you to the hospital to get that gash closed up."

i looked at him and shook my head.

"what gash?"

izzy rubbed my arm gently.

"baby youre bleeding, remember?"

i drew my brows.

"well yeah but you didnt tell me i had a gash."

he looked to the medics apologetically.

"we're gonna put you on the stretcher okay miss?"

i nodded slowly.

"okay, as long as izzy gets to come to."

the man looked to izzy.

"is that your-?"

"boyfriend."

i said proudly as he shifted me up.

"we're on tour, she doesnt have any other family here."

The man nodded as they started rolling the stretcher towards the door.

"Hold me."

I said in a child like tone, reaching for Izzy's hand. He stared me in the face before doing as told and holding my hand, running his thumb over it.

"I've got you baby."

°°°°°°°°°

i felt the stinging against my head and felt nauseous again.

"hold on."

i said before leaning forward and throwing up into the bowl the doctor had given me. i groaned and wiped my mouth as he got back to work on my stitches. izzy held my hand, looking over my face as i blinked slowly. it had been about an hour since wed arrived and were finally almost done.

"youre doing great."

izzy reassured and i sent him a small smile.

"thanks."

i said lightly.

"alright, we are all done. the nurse will be in momentarily to go over treatment and activity."

i nodded once, thanking him as he walked out. izzy sighed out, like he had been holding his breath the whole time.

"you okay?"

i asked. his eyes went wide.

"am i okay?! youre the one who just got your head split open!"

he said. i laughed a little bit, he just closed his eyes and dropped his head to my shoulder. i pet his head gently.

"at least im not seeing two of you now, not that im complaining or anything, but still."

he let out a short laugh before standing back upright.

"im just glad youre okay, i was so worried about you. i didnt even see what happened until youd already hit the floor. it was just your worried face and then boom, you were down."

i closed my eyes and groaned.

"its blurry, all i know is that girl thought she was in love with you. i just wanted to find you back."

he kissed my shoulder.

"i know, im not leaving you the rest of the tour, i can promise you that."

i laughed a little bit.

"izzy thats gonna be kind of hard dont you think?"

he shook his head.

"you arent going anywhere alone, even if i have to hire a personal body guard just for you."

i held his head in my hand and stroked his cheek gently with my hand.

"im glad youre protective over me but i can handle myself. normally."

i joked. he still looked so worried.

"i dont know what i wouldve done if id lost you today. you were bleeding so much and just completely out of it. that really scared me."

he said, and i could see his eyes getting watery. i brought him to me and kissed him gently.

"im not going anywhere, you have my word."

#wattpad #x reader #izzy stradlin #jeffrey isbell #gnr #imagines #one shots #262

[sero-sphere]

PT 1: Crimson Hearts

Summary: You just moved next door to Red Riot...but you can hear everything through the paper thin walls. You open your mouth and uncover something scandalous. Lets see what happens next...

Quirk: You can feel everyones emotional aura, and can secret phermones to alter them. Only side affect is their emotions rub off on you as well, both good and bad.

Warning: eventual angst, implied sex, alcohol use, swearing.

Part 2  Part 3

You reached over your pillow for your phone, was 3 o’clock in the morning. All you could hear was loud thuds and moans, which woke you up out of a deep sleep.

“Absolutely perfect!!! Looks like the neighbor god really blessed me, huh…”

It was only your first night in your new apartment. You had moved there because it was in a nicer neighborhood and figured the residents would be a little more polite than where you last lived. You were wrong. A few hours had past and they were still at it. You thought it was never going to end when suddenly all the noises stopped.

“Finally, ohmygod, who can last that long anyway?!” It was now 5am. You had to be at work for 8am. Painstakingly you fell back asleep hoping you wouldn’t miss your alarm.

You made your way outside in a rush, you slept through your alarm and got ready for work as quickly as you could. Your body was still partially in sleep mode which made everything harder. As you went to lock your door behind you, you fumbled your keys making you drop everything that was in your hands.

“Ohh, I’m going to be so late…” You grumbled under your breath, not realizing the red head standing behind you.

“Here, let me help you with that? Your first night in the new place huh?  I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Eijiro Kirishima.” He gave off the most peaceful feeling, making you feel at ease almost instantly. He wasn’t bad on the eyes either. You were surprised you didn’t pick up his energy before. You must have been more tired than you thought.

“The first nights always tough at a new place, looks like you couldn’t sleep?” He was bending down to help you at this point, picking up everything you dropped as you shoved it all away in your backpack.

“Yeah, it really doesn’t help that these walls are paper thin. My neighbors were at it all night…” You watched Kirishima as his cheeks turned as bright as his hair, which was down, perfectly framing his face. He flashed a shy, yet apologetic grin that perfectly showcased his sharp teeth. You followed his movements, tracing his muscles with your eyes as his hand reached up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Oh, sorry about that. My girlfriend can get a bit rowdy sometimes. I’ll be sure to keep it down from now on.” He reached out his hand to help you up.  The moment your hand touched his, you could instantly feel all the energy he was giving off. It was wonderful. It had been a while since you felt someone this blissfully happy.

“Oh my god, no, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean too…uhm” You wanted to just dig yourself into a hole.

He walked over and started unlocking his door, all-the-while still giving you the most sincere smile. “Nah, it’s alright. See you around…uhm I never got your name?”

A few days had gone by without any problems. You were settling in quite nicely, and getting along with all the neighbors…well for the most part. You had met Kirishimas’ girlfriend a few times now. There was nothing in particular you didn’t like about her, she was very attractive. It was just that every time the two of you had an interaction she just seemed off. Your mood would instantly sour feeling her aura. You wondered how the two of them worked out. Kirishima, on one hand had the soul of an angel, at least that’s what it felt like to you… but she on the other hand, just made you sick.

“No no no no nooooooo, pleaseee I have a really important day tomorrow. They were doing a really good job keeping quite up until now.” You had a rough day at work and this was the last thing you needed. You worked with the police, to help calm down some villain for their interrogation and he really rubbed off on you. You came home in an awful mood and just wanted to sleep it off. You endured their noises for a little while when they suddenly stopped. ”Hmm, that was a lot quicker than the last time.” You were grateful. Hopefully a goodnights rest would put you in a better mood.

To your suprise it didn’t... you got ready for work, and you could just feel the bitch energy radiating off of you. It was toxic. You always were reluctant to work with villians because this is usually what would happen.

“We really need to talk to him” the police said. “He has really important information.”

What. Ever. You walked out your front door and slammed it behind you.

You saw a flash of red out of the corner of your eye. You glared at the figure coming into view.

“Oi, if it isn’t Red Fucking Riot. I thought you said you’d keep it down?”

“Oh, hey Y/N…what do you mean?” You felt as his mood shifted from happy, to anxious, which didn’t help you out one bit.

“I mean your fucking girlfriend, she sounds like a godamn dying pigeon.” You stormed off down the stairs. You felt bad for being such a bitch but it really wasn’t your fault. You knew you’d calm yourself eventually. You could always apologize to him when your quirks negative side effects werent effecting you as much. 

All day at work you couldnt stop thinking about what you had said. You hadnt explained your quirk to him yet, and you didnt want him to think you were that big of an asshole all the time. Even worse you didn’t want him to think you were jealous that they were getting laid, and you weren’t. You had to apologize.

#kirishima eijiro x reader #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #eijirou x reader #kirishima #eijiro kirishima #red riot #bnha

[chaoskatya]

unfinished brooke x katya hatefuck fic

hi yall :^) so ive had this sitting in my drafts for a WHILE and ive barely dented the actual planned plot but still i felt like it was kind of a waste of what i did write to not ?? idk do something with it? this was originally written for AQ’s rarepair event but irl stuff got in the way so it never got finished, and i kinda lost the inspo to finish it (for now? idk) so here it is, posted unedited in however it was when i last touched it

brooke x katya hatefuck, (well, planned, i obv hadnt written that far) inspired by pics of trixie and brooke together that one time they were weirdly hanging out a lot irl and that one outfit brooke has that looks like that one outfit katya has the polkadot one u know it

“Ugh, I swear, Vi! She really has something against me! I think she hates me!”

Katya punctuates her sentence with a flail of her arms for emphasis before flopping back onto her bed. Violet just rolls her eyes at her roommate’s dramatics, as per usual. This is the third time they’ve had this conversation this week.

“So she’s a little icy, what of it? It’s not like you’re not used to having a mega bitch around, you live with me,” Violet responds plainly, not even bothering to look up from her laptop, “and I don’t think anybody could hate you, Kat.”

Katya huffs at that. “No, I swear, she hates me.”

Katya Zamolodchikova is absolutely sure of three things in her university life: One, Trixie Mattel is her best friend. Two, nothing gets in between her and Trixie. Three, Brooke Lynn Hytes is absolutely making her best fucking attempt.

Katya and Trixie had met last year, Katya being a sophomore in visual arts and Trixie a freshman in musical theater, when Katya had accidentally crashed Ginger’s (kind of pathetic) attempt at being a tour guide for the freshmen of her course. They’ve only known each other for a year, but ever since then the two quickly became inseparable and a year had felt like a lifetime. All of their friends knew, and Katya held it close to her heart, that nothing could possibly stand in their way. That is, until the beginning of this semester.

Trixie had been elected as class representative at the start of their sophomore year, which did not surprise Katya one bit. But that meant that when Canadian exchange student Brooke Lynn Hytes had arrived for the semester, it was Trixie’s job to show her around and make her feel welcomed. And being that Brooke’s degree in classical dance meant her and Trixie had quite a few overlapping classes, the two hit it off and had gotten closer and closer since. It’s only half way through the semester, yet Katya feels as though she’s slowly becoming more and more of a background character in Trixie’s life. They still text each other when they can, but hangout times have slowly grown increasingly thin and so has Katya’s sanity. Not that it’s Trixie’s fault, of course…

“I can’t explain it. But I promise, it’s almost like she’s purposefully occupying Trixie from me! Every time it looks like we might get a chance to even just talk, she’s there coming round the corner asking Trixie for help in one of their classes or for show recs or whatever. And she always looks me dead in the eye, with her stupid fucking smirk, like she knows what she just did! I can’t explain the feeling I get when I see her!”

Katya’s hit full ranting steam now, half hanging off her bed still flailing as animated as ever.

Violet shuts her laptop and turns to face her. “Mama, sounds like you hate her. Sure it’s not just in your head because you’re jealous the amazon’s occupying your barbie?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Jealous? I guess?” Katya scrunches up her face and sits up. “I mean, how could I not be? With her stupid long legs and her flowing blonde hair, like god, Vi, she’s practically perfect! And have you seen her dance?”

Katya turns to pose her question, but Violet is just staring, giving her a look she can’t decipher. She continues,

“So then, fine, of course I’m jealous, but that’s because Trix is my best friend. I barely see her anymore, and when I do she’s always there and I just get so riled up! And I’m sure Trix has started to notice because god I just can’t stand it when she’s near, it just sets me alight in an awful way. I’ve never felt this way about anybody before!” And it’s true, Katya really does not think of herself as someone capable of fully hating someone else. But by god, is Brooke really testing that.

Violet scoffs, turning away to open her laptop once more. “Look Mary, all I gotta say is that that’s an awful lot of emotion for some best friend jealousy. Also, you have a lecture starting in ten minutes.”

Fuck! Katya checks her watch and immediately jumps up to scramble for her belongings, deeply thankful for her roommate’s type A tendencies yet internally chastising herself for allowing her ranting to consume her time like that. She quickly kisses Violet on the cheek and bids her farewell before putting on her boots and heading out of their dorm room to make her best effort to speed walk to class.

But as luck would have it, not that Katya has a lot of it, she quite literally walks right into the subject of their prior conversation. Well, speak of the devils…

“Oh! Trixie, hi!” Katya laughs, immediately reacting to steady Trixie from where Katya had almost knocked her over with the door. From the way she was standing, she figured she had opened the door just as Trixie was about knock.

“Katya! Thank god, I was worried you wouldn’t be in,” Trixie smiles back brightly, smoothing her fluffy golden hair back into place. (Not that it’s ever really out of place, Katya thinks to herself.) 

Katya smiles at her, a sight for sore eyes she thinks, but when she realizes Brooke is standing at the end of the hall waiting for Trixie, her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Whether Trixie noticed Katya’s tension or not, she didn’t let on. At least Brooke had the decency to wait at a reasonable distance.

“Uh, yeah, I was just heading out though,” Katya replies, trying her best to look sympathetic. She doesn’t mind that she’s running late anymore, just feels bad she even has to go. “But did you need something?”

Trixie looks equally as sympathetic. “Yeah, uh, listen, I’m really sorry. I know we haven’t been able to hang recently and I’m really sorry for that, midterms and all…”

“Hey, it’s alright, I knew you were busy. It’s no problem, really.” That’s a lie.

“But now that it’s over, let’s celebrate! Let me make it up to you? Be my date to the Edwards party tonight?”

Katya’s smile softens. As much as she was planning to trade in the party for a well-deserved movie night in with Violet and Pearl, she finds she really can’t say no to Trixie, especially not when she’s looking at her like an apologetic puppy. Whipped.

“Down for anything with you, Barbie. Meet you at the dorm hall at 8?”

Trixie squeals and picks Katya up by the middle, “AAAAAAAH yes!! See you bitch!!”

Katya squirms violently to be put down but laughs it off anyway. She really can’t be too mad at her best friend.

“Anyway, I gotta run, see you later Trix!” She rushes to hug Trixie quickly once more before escaping as briskly yet casually as she can out the door. This fails her when all semblance of casualty is lost as she passes the point where Brooke is, all tall and blonde and beautiful even just standing around. As she passes, her gaze quite obviously steels ahead to avoid looking Brooke in the eye, but she can’t fail to catch the quite obvious smug smirk the Canadian has posed on her painted lips.

----

Katya managed to make it to class with only 5 minutes late, thankfully just as her professor was entering the other door. She plops down into her usual seat with an audible groan and immediately drops her head in her hands.

Brooke. Stupid fucking Brooke Lynn Hytes. Lately, Katya’s wandering thoughts always go back to her. There hasn’t been a time where her idle time hasn’t been haunted by a certain ballerina chipping away at her precious concentration. She sees perfect long blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and tone legs that go all the way up. 

If she’s being completely honest with herself, she is just a bit jealous of Brooke but not for the reasons Violet insinuates. I mean, sure, she misses Trixie to bits. But that’s only one of the many straws on the camel that is Katya’s completely rational anger. 

It’s not that she’s perfect, either, but that sure adds another straw. Seemingly introverted, but able to capture the hearts of anyone in her path through quick and honest charm. Graceful and poised, where Katya is not, and tall and curvy, where Katya is not. Katya really doesn’t understand how someone can attend 7am dance classes with a flawless mug and still leave rehearsals with not an eyelash out of place, it’s inhuman.

No, it’s that no matter how much others testify on her behalf, Katya does not understand it. She doesn’t know what she did, but she has somehow done something to aggravate Brooke against her, and it bothers her endlessly that she doesn’t even know what she did to incur such spite. Katya doesn’t see any of the charm or kindness that others profess, only smug smirks and cocky passive-aggressive jabs and a seemingly passionate desire to find any way she can to poke Katya’s buttons and prompt some kind of response. She’s lucky Katya has a lot more self control than most, and she’s restrained herself from biting back thus far.

She thinks back to the first time she spotted Brooke, on the first day of the semester when Katya had gotten bored and decided to drop in on Trixie’s representative duties despite explicit instructions not to intrude. She had found her in one of the gardens of the student commons, and instinctively made her way to run up and tackle her before realizing Trixie wasn’t alone and stopping dead in her tracks.

Trixie was sitting next to someone Katya didn’t recognize, which was a surprise in itself because Katya knew next to everybody personally in their modestly sized arts college.  The girl was sitting next to Trixie on a bench, both hands holding one of Trixie’s own as Trixie appeared to animatedly be telling some story. Trixie then finally noticed Katya frozen standing awkwardly at some distance and paused in the middle of her speech to yell at Katya and becon her over. 

“Katya! This is Brooke Lynn, a Canadian exchange student for the semester. Brooke, this is Katya, my best friend!”

Brooke lazily shifted her gaze from Trixie to give Katya the once over, glancing her up and down. Whatever she saw, she suddenly stood up and crowded into Katya’s space, gazing down at her intensely directly from the advantage their clear height difference gave her.

“Well, it’s certainly nice to meet you… Katya.” 

And on her lips, the same painted red smirk. The same stupid smirk that would continuously haunt her until…

“Kat, you with us girl?” Hissed Pearl in her ear, jabbing her hard in the side.

#brooke lynn hytes #katya zamolodchikova #rpdr rpf #rpdr fanfic #brooke x katya #THE WHOLE PLOT WAS LIKE DONE i just lost the inspo to finish the thing #so idk i just felt weirdly compelled to like. post it #idk itll ease my guilt maybe for not finishing it #cat writes #cat.txt #my fics #wips

[imnotinclinedtomaturity]

Love Yourself (Chapter 32)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right. No pressure there.

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

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

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

Oops.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking finally, they were alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I you, Daniel Howell.”

****

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

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

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

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

Still though, Dan only had eyes for Phil.

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

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

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

Dan giggled, his eyes still trained on Phil. “You know, not everyone has the same weird aversion to cheese as you, Philly.”

Phil didn’t respond, too engrossed in the list. “Oooo, look, they have profiteroles and — ew!” Head shooting back up, Phil gave Dan a genuinely horrified expression. His voice was just a hair too loud for inside, especially for the posh and intimate restaurant, but it was fine. “Who orders a cheese plate for dessert!?”

Fuck, Dan was so soft for this boy, this boy who had such bullheaded opinions over what counted as dessert, but was entirely open-minded about anything bigger. “What can I say, the world is full of zanies and fools.”

“Who don’t believe in sensible rules?” Phil quipped back with his brows raised knowingly, not quite singing, but also not exactly just talking either.

“Exactly,” Dan agreed with a nod, letting his eyes linger for just a second before finally flitting down to read his own dessert menu. There was an undefined sappy thought beating at the edge of Dan’s mind, something about how Phil felt like the fairytale impossible thing that happened to him, but he shoved it aside — that was too much even for his champagne-addled heart.

Scanning his menu, Dan’s gaze caught on one of the desserts — not because of the ingredients, but because of the suggestive name.

“I reckon I’ll order the Cherry Explosion,” Dan said, voice low as he looked up at Phil through his darker-than-usual eyelashes. “Hopefully it’ll be a preview of what’s to come later tonight.”

Phil held his gaze for a long second, a slow smirk spreading across his face and a playful twinkle in his eye. “You know,” he started slowly, leaning forward. Beneath the table, a warm hand suddenly landed on Dan’s thigh, fingertips dipping between his legs to rub along the inseam of Dan’s trousers. “I’m not normally a big fan of cherries, but if that’s what gets you there, I can get used to it.”

Dan’s jaw dropped open — both at Phil’s words and at the way his hand was slowly creeping higher and higher up Dan’s leg.

“I don’t — I’m not —” Dan stuttered, trying to defend why he had cherry lube at home, but there wasn’t a restaurant appropriate way to say that he got used to keeping it on hand in hopes that it would entice his ex-boyfriend to eat him out. “I don’t love the taste that much!” Dan finally managed.

Phil’s hand froze on Dan’s leg, his brows shooting up and a knowing smile growing on his lips. “So the flavor isn’t for your benefit, hmm?”

Shrugging, Dan did his best to keep his face neutral and voice steady — but the heat on his cheeks and his quickened breath told him he wasn’t doing a great job of either. “A lad can hope…” Dan muttered weakly.

The knowing smile on Phil’s lips turned positively lewd, his tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes darkening with lust. “Hope for what, Daniel?” Phil challenged.

Dan swallowed thickly, squirming beneath Phil’s intense gaze. He fiddled with the edge of his menu, resisting the simultaneous urges to knock Phil’s hand off his leg so he could think straight and pull Phil’s hand a few centimeters higher to where Dan really wanted it. “You know… something besides just… fingers,” Dan murmured, dropping his eyes to the table.

“I think most people don’t need flavors for a simple blowjob,” Phil pointed out, a smug edge to his voice.

“Philllll,” Dan whined, his face growing impossibly redder. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he grumbled into his flute of champagne, refusing to look Phil in the eye.

“Look at me, babe,” Phil demanded softly. Head still bowed, Dan shifted his eyes to look up at Phil, whose fingers resumed their teasing caress along Dan’s inner thigh. “And tell me what you meant.”

“I didn’t mean there,” Dan whined, praying Phil wouldn’t actually make him confess that he liked being eaten out in the middle of a fancy New York restaurant. That’d he’d settle for the blatant implication.

Phil looked like he might push it, but Dan was saved by the timely appearance of their waiter, back to take their dessert order.

Without taking his eyes off Dan, Phil ordered, his voice returning to its normal volume, a hint of huskiness still laced in. “I’ll have the profiterole, please, and he’ll have the cherry explosion.”

Pointedly, Phil squeezed Dan’s thigh, and Dan felt like he was on the verge of cracking, on the verge of begging Phil to dine and dash, to skip the club, to go back to their hotel — or fuck it, get a room in this one — and fuck him already. The subtle way Phil took charge, the way he challenged Dan in ways none of his past partners ever had, the way he made Dan feel so bloody taken care of — fuck, it was driving Dan insane.

“Bloody hell, Phil. You’re gonna kill me.”

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

“We’re here, babe, you have to get out of the car,” Phil insisted with a giggle. He was standing on the curb, holding the car door open and offering Dan his hand.

“I caaaan’t,” Dan whined, his words slurring together thanks to the full bottle of champagne he’d drank at dinner. He petulantly crossed his arms and stayed firmly planted in his seat.

“This nice man has’ta go pick up his next people, though,” Phil pointed out, flashing an apologetic glance towards the front of the car.

“But Phil, if I get out, then e’ryone’ll see,” Dan grumbled. Phil’s eyes followed Dan’s gesture towards his lap, a saucy smirk quickly pulling at his lips.

Dan’d been half-hard since they’d ordered dessert, and his trousers were still pulling tightly across his crotch, a telling tent forming in the center. Phil had been entirely unhelpful during the ride to the club, alternating between teasing Dan about how easily excitable he was and letting his hand wander up and down Dan’s thigh, not giving him the chance to calm down. They’d both had too much champagne to be discreet about it, and Dan hoped the driver wasn’t too scarred — he hadn’t said anything to reprimand them, at least.

“It’s dark out, no one’ll notice,” Phil argued, threading his hand through Dan’s and tugging gently. The awkward reach across the backseat was enough to unsteady Phil, and he braced himself on the doorframe, wobbling just a bit. “C’mon, as soon as we’re inside, you can get us a seat on the sofas and I’ll get us drinks, okay?”

Dan peered around Phil and saw that there wasn’t a line for the club. Maybe they were early — this was New York after all — or maybe this place really was as fancy as Phil had insinuated. Regardless of the reason, that meant Dan would have to interact with minimal people before he could sit down again. Plus, maybe a few minutes away from Phil would help Dan cool down. Lord knew he needed it.

“Here,” Phil let go of Dan’s hand and shrugged out of his denim jacket, offering it to Dan. “You can hold this in front of you in you want.”

“You’ll be cold, though,” Dan said guiltily.

“Not for long if you hurry up and c’mon!” Phil smiled widely, his tongue peeking out more than usual, and shook the jacket at Dan.

Giving in with a disgruntled grumble, Dan gratefully took Phil’s jacket as he climbed out of the uber, only stumbling a little, which he thought was probably a win given that he was definitely both tipsy and turned on. Dan tried to casually sling the jacket over his arm, aiming for a good boyfriend carrying his partner’s coat vibe, and not horny twenty-something hard because of some light pawing.

Phil’s hand landed on Dan’s lower back, guiding Dan towards the entrance. He dropped his hand as they got close, and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

He started rifling through, for what Dan wasn’t sure, but the brown-haired bouncer suddenly smiled widely, seeming to recognize Phil, and told him not to worry about it.

Shit — the bouncer! Dan’s drunken and infatuated mind had forgotten that the only reason Phil knew about this place was because he’d fucked the bouncer. Or maybe the bouncer had fucked him. At this point, Dan honestly didn’t know which was worse to think about.

“Well, hey there Phil,” the bouncer greeted, his gaze blatantly raking up and down Phil’s form. “I didn’t know you were in town.”

“Hi, Oliver,” Phil greeted politely, smiling but keeping his eyes fixed on the other boy’s face. Dan couldn’t help but size up this lad who had slept with Phil; he had chocolate brown hair, curls, and deep eyes — just like Dan. In many ways, looking at this guy was like looking in a warped mirror.

Except for in one very important way.

This guy was built in a way Dan never had been, nor would ever be. His biceps were literally bulging against his sleeves, and Dan could see the sharp outline of defined pectoral muscles under the thin material covering his shirt. Jesus, it was March! Shouldn’t this guy be wearing a jacket or something? Not showing his muscles off to the world?

And rubbing them in Phil’s new boyfriend’s face?

Well aware that he was probably glowering, Dan tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Oliver telling Phil he looked good tonight.

“I’ll be off at one if you’re free tonight,” the bouncer said as he brushed his hand over Phil’s forearm and offered him a saucy wink. Goddamn, Dan was well familiar with that move, and he wasn’t particularly enjoying watching some random bloke pull it on his boyfriend.

The bouncer’s gaze finally drifted away from Phil, landing on Dan for the first time. Understanding seemed to register in his eyes and his hand dropped. “Although, I’m now realizing that might not be an option anymore…” he added, trailing off.

“Oh, uh,” Phil stuttered, sounding strangled and surprised. His hand reached out and wrapped around Dan’s waist. “Yeah. I mean, no! Not’n option, sorry. This is my boyfriend, Dan.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” Oliver frowned, disappointed, before offering Dan a cheeky smirk. "You’re lucky. From what I remember your boyfriend sure can ride. He's quite the power bottom, in’it he?"

Dan could feel all the color draining out of his face, could feel how tense his entire body was, could feel his nails digging into the palms of his hands. He was practically shaking — with what, he wasn’t sure. Phil said he’d slept with this guy a year ago. It wasn’t like Dan really had the right to be mad or jealous — they hadn’t even met yet.

But still.

Riding was Dan’s favorite position — he wasn’t keen on imagining Phil doing that with some other guy.

“We’re going in now,” Phil said tersely. “You sure you don’t need a cover?” he added with minimal politeness, cutting in before Dan could say anything. Not that Dan had any idea what he’d say in a moment like this. He reckoned it’d probably start with a choice four letter word, though.

“Nah of course not, it’s always free for you gorgeous,” Oliver replied flirtily, and had the nerve to fucking wink at Phil, even after it became clear Phil was taken. “Feel free to call if you’re ever around again!” His gaze shifted to Dan, dragging over his comparatively lanky body. Dan couldn’t help self consciously adjusting the jacket in front of him, squirming under the lewd scrutiny of this built bouncer. “Or are looking for a third,” Oliver added, this time winking at Dan and deliberately licking his lips.

“He won’t be,” Dan snapped, grabbing Phil’s hand tightly and pulling him into the club as soon as they had permission.

Phil followed willingly, not even attempting to pause and apologize to the guy about Dan’s rude behavior. Not that Dan thought his reaction was unjustified — the asshole had ignored Dan, hit on his boyfriend, and asked for a threesome, all within a five minute window.

Inside, Dan paused for a fraction of a second to appraise his surroundings. The club was dim in a seductive, anonymous way. There were guys everywhere, far more than the lineless entrance had suggested. A long bar lined the back wall, and sofas and low tables created narrow aisles, leaving no room for a dance floor — something that was both surprising and disappointing. Dancing would have been an easy way for Dan to release some of his pent up emotions.

Scanning the room for alternate options, Dan’s eyes caught on a deserted hallway. He pulled Phil down it, not stopping until they were passed the glowing coat check window and as far from the crowd as they could be. Dan’s grip was probably still a little too tight on Phil’s hand, but Phil didn’t complain and didn’t question.

As soon as Dan thought they were alone enough, he spun around on his heel, grabbing Phil by the waist and crowding him up against the wall in one smooth motion. Phil’s jacket fell carelessly from Dan’s grip to the floor as Dan planted his feet on either side of Phil’s, his chest and hips pressed in close.

The position left Phil pinned to the wall, and given the unspoken dynamic that they were both exploring, Dan half expected Phil to flip their positions, to switch places so that Phil was the one pinning Dan to the wall.

Much to Dan’s satisfaction, however, Phil’s only movement was to loop his arms around Dan and pull him closer, hands splayed on Dan’s lower back. That prick outside had gotten under Dan’s skin, and he needed to remind himself that Phil wasn’t with that arse. Dan needed to remember that after months of pining and lusting and yearning, Phil was finally with him and no one else.

“Mine,” Dan growled as he surged forward and captured Phil’s lips with his own. Phil chuckled softly into the kiss, his chest rumbling against Dan’s. Dan could feel Phil’s fingers tracing across his back, could feel Phil’s lips quirking up into a smile. The whole thing reeked of fond and cute, but Dan didn’t want fond and cute right now.

He wanted passionate and possessive.

So Dan didn’t pause, didn’t pull back to let Phil laugh. If anything, he kissed harder; his lips moved urgently against Phil’s and his hands slipped up from Phil’s hips, desperately running over any part of Phil’s chest he could reach without having to step back.

Phil’s lips parted, and Dan didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue in, roughly licking the roof of Phil’s mouth. Not quite battling for dominance, but definitely not letting Dan take complete charge of the kiss either, Phil massaged Dan’s tongue with his own, his hands sliding down to firmly grab Dan’s arse.

The dark hallway, the anonymous club, the foreign city — they all felt like a shelter from the real world, and Dan let himself get lost in kissing and touching and groping. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe it was the red-hot jealousy coursing through his veins, but Dan didn’t even really care if someone noticed them. Hell, he almost hoped that asshat of a bouncer decided to go on a loo break and saw the way Dan had Phil pushed up against the wall, the way Dan had his tongue down Phil’s throat.

Saw that Phil was Dan’s.

When kissing Phil became too much for Dan’s poor lungs to handle, he pulled back roughly only to immediately latch his lips onto Phil’s neck. Needing to feel Phil in every way he could, Dan rocked his hips forward, grinding their crotches together with a force that made them both groan.

“Mine,” Dan grumbled again, the word vibrating against Phil’s pulse point and pulling a deep moan out of him. He nipped at Phil’s neck, just hard enough for Phil to hiss and tighten his grip on Dan’s arse, his fingers deliciously digging into Dan’s cheeks. “Mine, mine, mine,” Dan repeated before licking over the red spot on Phil’s neck and sucking harshly.

“Of course,” Phil replied, his voice surprisingly full of conviction given how ragged his breath was growing. “All yours, baby.”

Dan slid his hands down Phil’s side, rucking his shirt up and grabbing at the soft, bare skin of Phil’s hips. “I don’t wanna share you with anyone,” Dan mumbled into Phil’s neck as his lips kissed and bit and sucked their way up to the sensitive spot beneath Phil’s ear.

“Good,” Phil huffed, this time his voice lower and more affected. One hand left Dan’s arse to tangle in his curls, pulling back forcefully until their gazes met. “Don’t wanna share you, either.”

Dan moaned, probably far too loudly for the coat check hallway of some club, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always preferred monogamy — for a lot of reasons. Something about monogamy with Phil, though. Fuck, it was so damn hot that Dan found himself getting even more riled up. And, sure, maybe it wasn’t an idea that would make many people horny, but it was turning Dan on — he literally didn’t think Phil could say anything sexier.

Hands groping higher up under Phil’s shirt, Dan crashed their lips together again, unable to resist the urge to grind their hips together again. His involuntary moan was drowned out by a loud wolf-whistle.

“Get some, sexy!” A deep, male voice called out, making Dan’s wandering hands come to an abrupt halt on Phil’s ribs and his breath catch in his throat.

“Fuck,” Dan muttered, tearing away from Phil’s lips and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Dan could feel his cheeks growing hot with embarrassment, could feel Phil’s husky laughter as his head tipped back and thunked against the wall.

Dan wasn’t concerned about the whistling stranger recognizing them, not in the dark shadows of a dim hallway in a fancy club. He was, however, mortified — and unexpectedly a little turned on — at being caught feverishly making out with someone in public, even if it was his boyfriend.

Phil tugged lightly on Dan’s hair, this time lacking the command from earlier, and guided Dan to look at him.

“Drinks?” Phil proposed, his voice ragged in a way that made Dan radiate with satisfaction.

“Yeah,” Dan panted in agreement. “That didn’t help my problem at all, though,” he added quietly. Rocking his hips against Phil’s, Dan let Phil feel the full hardness of his cock. Through their trousers, Dan could tell that Phil’s cock was swollen too, at least halfway, and the friction was absolutely heavenly. Dan had to bite back another moan at the relief that Phil’s hips gave.

“Grab my coat and go find us a sofa. I’ll get us drinks.” Phil’s thumb dragged back and forth, back and forth across Dan’s hip, rendering him speechless and incapable of countering with any other plan, even if a part of him did still want to at least try to pay for something tonight.

“Alright,” Dan mumbled, leaning forward to press his lips to Phil’s one more time before pulling back entirely. Bending down, Dan scooped Phil’s jacket up off the floor and slung it over his arm and in front of his crotch in what he hoped was a casual manner.

Dan let Phil lead the way down the hallway, hovering behind him and taking advantage of the extra coverage while he could. When they reached the main room, Phil gave Dan’s free hand a quick squeeze before they parted ways, Phil bee-lining for the back bar and Dan veering right to find some open seats near the edge of the room.

After a minute of winding, Dan found an empty sofa in a corner of the club. The music was quieter over here, no longer so loud that talking would be impossible. He collapsed onto the cushions and spread Phil’s jacket across his lap. The back of the sofa was low, only coming up to his mid-back — probably to stop people from getting too relaxed and not partaking in the whole club thing. Slouching down so his shoulders were supported, Dan pulled his phone out of his pocket to tell Phil where he was.

The first thing he noticed was the time — almost exactly half past eleven. His interview with Jimmy Fallon would be airing any minute now.

The second thing he noticed was about half a dozen text messages from Louise.

Before he opened her messages, Dan shot Phil a quick text, trying to describe the dark corner he was sat in. Switching over to his conversation with Louise, Dan skimmed over her messages. She’d asked how the recording had gone, what his plans were for the evening, cheekily teased that she hoped Dan wasn’t responding because he was getting laid, and promised to tweet about the show for him — bless her, she really was the best friend and manager he could hope for.

Quickly, Dan typed a quick message back, ignoring most of what she’d said and just updating her on things more generally.

Dan [11:28PM]: taping was good i’m happy with it. i’m sure you’ll see soon. phil and i are out. i’ll ring tomorrow xx

Dan was just hitting send when Phil appeared above him. He shuffled back up into a proper sitting position, tucking his phone back into his pocket. Cocking an eyebrow at Dan’s movement, Phil passed Dan a lowball of something dark and on ice.

“Just Louise,” Dan said as an answer to Phil’s silent question and took a sip of his drink. It was some kind of whiskey, something much more bitter than whatever the blue concoction Phil was holding probably was. Dan was grateful that Phil seemed to remember his drink preferences, even though they’d only ordered cocktails together a small handful of times. He didn’t think he could stomach drinking something as colorful and sugary as Phil’s. “Thanks,” Dan said with a smile and a tip of his glass in Phil’s direction.

“You’re welcome,” Phil replied, twisting slightly to face Dan as his free arm came to rest on the back of the sofa behind him. “Sorry about that, by the way.” Phil pointedly nodded his head back towards the door. “I didn’t think he’d hit on me, especially not with you there. Hell, I didn’t even know if he’d be working.”

Dan shrugged, twisting slightly so that he was facing more towards Phil than the rest of the room. “It’s’not your fault,” Dan said genuinely. “Although, you promised me he wasn’t cuter than me.” Petulantly, Dan huffed and sent a glare in the direction of the entrance.

“And?” Phil chuckled, his hand slipping from the sofa, his fingers grazing along Dan’s ribcage. Something about the way Phil was so casually sprawling across the sofa, the sheer manliness of the position, combined with the gentle drag of his fingers on Dan’s side was fucking attractive. “Tha’bloke is nowhere near as stunning as you,” Phil continued, his voice low and sincere.

Dan stuck his bottom lip out, pouting up at Phil. “Are y’kidding?” Dan whined. “He looked like me, but with actual muscles an’ not limp noodle arms.”

Phil’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. His eyes dragged over Dan, lingering on his arms, his chest. Dan squirmed under Phil’s intense gaze, and he was certain his cheeks were growing red. He slouched down again; Phil was taller than him now, and Dan had to tip his head up to look at him. From this angle, Dan had a perfect view of the red marks blossoming on Phil’s neck, and he felt pride swell deep in his stomach.

“I’ll admit I have a bit of a thing for dark hair an’ pretty eyes,” Phil conceded, a small smirk on his face and humor lacing his voice. Elbow still resting on the back of the sofa, Phil bent his arm so he could run his hand through Dan’s hair, petting sweetly. Dan couldn’t resist just slightly leaning his head back into the touch, silently encouraging Phil to continue his ministrations. Jesus christ, he loved his hair being played with, both in and out of the bedroom. “But the muscles don’t really do anything for me.” Phil shrugged casually, his eyes dropping from Dan’s again to salaciously rake over his body.

“In fact,” Phil continued, his voice suddenly lower, huskier. Sexier. “I prefer that you’re a li’le more narrow ‘n me.” The hand in Dan’s hair slid down. Phil’s fingers lightly traced down the side of Dan’s neck, making Dan’s skin feel on fire and his breath catch in his throat. Phil scooched a little more towards Dan, and the close proximity made Dan have to look up even more. “I like being able’ta wrap you up in my arms.”

Arm wrapped around Dan’s shoulder, Phil pulled him in so that Dan’s shoulder was leaning against Phil’s chest, making Dan feel tiny — and not in the bad way he had a minute ago, when he’d been comparing himself to the fit bouncer out front.

This time, Dan was less subtle about the way he settled into Phil’s embrace. He brought the leg closest to Phil up, and let his knee fall into Phil’s lap. Phil seemed to welcome the new position, his other hand shifting to rest his drink on Dan’s thigh.

In sync, they both took a sip of their cocktails, and Dan found himself completely distracted from the bitter taste as he stared heatedly into Phil’s eyes. Pointedly, Dan flicked his gaze down to Phil’s glass with a challenging spark in his eye, and tipped his own drink back further. It wasn’t until the liquid was half gone that Dan stopped. With a small smirk, Phil followed Dan’s lead, lifting his glass higher and chugging.

Dan couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way Phil’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and god, he wanted to drag his teeth against it, nip and lick Phil’s neck, add to the marks already there. He wanted to make Phil feel good, wanted to chase the sharpness of the whiskey away with the taste of Phil’s skin.

Overcome with the need to kiss Phil right now, Dan nestled his glass by his hip and tugged on Phil’s wrist. Phil clearly got the hint, his eyes twinkling with mirth and his drink lowering to Dan’s leg.

Pulled together like unstoppable magnets, they both leaned in, their lips meeting with heady passion that was likely too much for a nightclub. Phil tasted fruity and sweet, a perfect contrast to the heavy, bitter flavor of whiskey lingering in Dan’s mouth. Their lips moved against each other, Phil’s tongue almost immediately dragging along Dan’s lower lip, practically demanding entrance. Pliant and desperate for anything Phil would give him, Dan parted his lips and let Phil in. Hot desire rushed through Dan’s veins, his arousal only growing when Phil licked behind his teeth.

Dan let himself be kissed, pushing up, up, up into Phil, chasing the overwhelming feeling of Phil. It was so much, and yet not enough.

A sharp tug of Dan’s hair forced him to tip his head back further — and jesus fuck, that was hot. The new angle gave Phil access to Dan’s neck, and his lips worked their way down from Dan’s mouth to his pulse point. Beneath Phil’s mouth, Dan could feel his blood rushing, his heart pounding, and he never wanted this moment to end. The soft scrape of Phil’s teeth on his skin drew a loud moan out of Dan and caused his muscles to go slack.

Wet, cold liquid splashed onto Dan’s thigh, and he tore himself away from Phil’s lips. He looked down, finding his glass tipped precariously to the side. Oops.

Now that their drinks were emptier and the music was louder, any hope of carrying on a proper conversation had slipped away. That was fine — they’d talked plenty at dinner, and there’d be plenty of time for talking later.

Sitting upright, Dan drained the last sips of his whiskey, motioning for Phil to do the same. There were only a few gulps left in Phil’s, and he obediently knocked it back. As soon as the drink was empty, Dan snatched the glass out of Phil’s hand and hurriedly put them both on the table. His movements were careless and clumsy, resulting in one of the glasses almost immediately tipping over and ice spilling out.

Dan ignored the mess — he didn’t particularly care about anything other than Phil right now. Dan swooped back in and pressed his lips to Phil’s, his leg shifting so that he was nearly straddling Phil. Warm, firm hands gripped Dan’s hips, lifting and pulling until Dan was fully in Phil’s lap.

“Fuck,” Dan moaned against Phil’s lips, painfully turned on by the way Phil was fucking manhandling him. Dan wanted more, needed to be closer, so he tangled his hands in Phil’s quiff, bracing his elbows against Phil’s shoulders so that he could lean up and kiss Phil harder. Phil’s hands crept under Dan’s tight jumper, and his nails dug into Dan’s waist, making Dan hyper aware of every single one of Phil’s fingers.

Phil’s touch on Dan’s bare sides was electrifying, and a surge of pleasure shot up Dan’s spine. Needing to do something with the heat that was radiating from every inch of his body, Dan found himself grinding his hips down into Phil’s.

“Yeah, baby,” Phil slurred, pulling roughly and guiding Dan to rock his hips forward again. Phil felt so fucking good beneath Dan, solid, warm, and — jesus — growing hard.

Dan’s cock had calmed down some while Phil had fetched their drinks, but the friction of Phil’s hips, the tease of Phil’s hard on, made it swell in interest again.

Tearing his lips away from Phil’s, Dan latched onto Phil’s neck and sucked hard, hard enough to surely leave another mark. Those could be tomorrow’s problem to worry about. Dan worked his way higher, leaving a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses up Phil’s neck. Phil’s fingers were digging into Dan’s hips, and it was fucking intoxicating — more so than the champagne and whiskey and whatever else they were going to drink could ever be.

“You —” Phil started, his words cut off by a loud gasp as Dan sucked on what must have been a particularly sensitive spot — Dan made a mental note, because he definitely wanted to make Phil do that again. “You look s’good like this,” Phil mumbled.

“Phhhh—” Dan moaned, unable to even get Phil’s name out. The compliment felt like a physical wave of pleasure rushing through Dan’s body, making him feel hot all over. Phil was so fucking right about that whole praise thing.

Dan caught the lobe of Phil’s ear in his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it and his tongue dart out to flick it. Pushing up just a hair, Dan slid his hands from Phil’s hair, down his neck, over his shoulders, and down to his chest. Dan couldn't resist bunching Phil’s shirt in his fists, massaging over Phil’s nipples with his thumbs.

“Good, because when we get back to the hotel room,” Dan whispered into Phil’s ear, “I wanna ride you.”

“Fuck,” Phil cursed, his hand rucking Dan’s jumper up high enough that his fingers stroked the bottom of Dan’s ribcage. “Yeah, okay.”

Surprised at how easily Phil had agreed, Dan pulled back to look him in the eyes. “Wait, really? You’re cool with that being how we fuck tonight?”

“Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan,” Phil mumbled, his hands tracing rough lines up and down the naked skin of Dan’s waist. “You have no idea how sexy you look above me. Trust me, I definitely want to see you like this, filled up with my cock.”

Dan’s cock twitched, and he had to restrain himself from rocking forward again. “Jesus, Phil,” Dan panted, his hands gripping Phil’s shoulders tightly as he tried to hold onto some grain of composure. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“And why’s that?” Phil teased, his thumbs dragging back and forth across Dan’s ribs, the feeling absolutely heavenly. It was somehow hot and tender at the same time, and Dan wanted more more more.

“You know why, you fucking asshole,” Dan grumbled, leaning back down to kiss along Phil’s neck. Dan was beginning to accept that Phil was right, but that didn’t mean he wanted to actually admit it out loud.

“You ‘n your praise kink make this too fucking easy,” Phil murmured, half panting, half chuckling.

“Don’t take ‘vantage of me,” Dan mumbled jokingly into Phil’s neck, lightly nipping at Phil’s shoulder.

Properly laughing this time, Phil slid his hands down to Dan’s hips and used his leverage to push him back. The momentum forced Dan all the way back to Phil’s knees — something Dan was thoroughly disgruntled about. But then one of Phil’s hands left Dan’s waist and thumbed over his cheek, a soft and fond look on his face, and Dan couldn’t help but melt. He might have been horny and hot, but he was so damn enamoured that the tender gesture affected him just as much as the grinding and wandering hands had.

“If we keep down this path, I’m gonna have a hard time keeping m’hands to myself,” Phil teased, a playful smirk toying at his lips. His other hand dipped into Dan’s jeans and stroked the long, prominent bone of his hip, as if to prove his point. Fuck, just Phi’s fingers on his hip was enough to drive Dan fucking mad, he didn’t know how he was going to manage to get through the night and back to their hotel without losing control.

“How ‘bout we dance for a bit?” Phil proposed suddenly. Shocked and unable to process Phil’s suggestion, Dan snapped his head back and stared down at Phil with bleary eyes, blinking slowly. The fuck?

Dancing? Right, okay. Dan could be up for dancing. But...

Dan glanced over his shoulder at the rest of the club, confused. Just like he remembered, there wasn’t exactly room for dancing anywhere. However, Dan noticed that there were several couples that were making out, feeling each other up, grinding hips desperately together.

“Uh, where?” Dan questioned skeptically. From his quick glance around, it seemed like dancing would actually draw more attention to them than snogging in a dark corner.

“Dance floor. Downstairs,” Phil explained, his head nodding toward the opposite corner. Dan followed the direction of Phil’s nod, noticing a dimly lit staircase for the first time. Of course — a lot of clubs separated sitting areas from dancing areas, Dan’s tipsy brain had just been too out of it to process.

“Sounds good,” Dan mumbled in agreement, dipping down to kiss at Phil’s neck one more time before he had to climb out of Phil’s lap. “We should have somethin’ else t’drink first, though. I’m a rubbish dancer,” he chuckled. It wasn’t entirely true, but Phil didn’t have to know that just yet.

The excuse sounded better than I wanna be drunk and free with you. Plus, maybe Dan’s decent dancing would be a pleasant surprise later.

Phil’s hand slipped out from Dan’s shirt, and ran up his chest. “How ‘bout you take our jackets to the coat check an’ I’ll order us something else t’drink, baby?” Phil suggested, his tone not really leaving room for Dan to argue as his hands dipped under Dan’s leather jacket, carefully shrugging it off his shoulders.

Dan’s jacket caught around his biceps, hanging from his arms in the gayest of fashions and he loved it. He wiggled his knees backwards until he was hovering above Phil’s hips and could easily rest his feet on the floor.

“Alright, let’s go then,” Dan agreed, backing off Phil entirely and holding one hand out to help him off the sofa. Dan was excited to dance, it would give him something a little less slutty to do with all his energy. Grabbing Phil’s jacket, Dan nodded once at Phil before heading back down the deserted hallway from earlier — only now it wasn’t as deserted. Dan passed three couples heatedly kissing before he even got to the coat check booth. But then again, surely snogging in public wasn’t that slutty if this many people were doing it.

Smiling at the employee, Dan dropped Phil’s denim jacket onto the small ledge and shrugged out of his own leather one, not bothering to tuck his phone into his pants pocket before he handed it to the guy across the bar. Tonight was about letting go, and the only person who could really need him had Phil’s number now.

Dan took the coat-check number from the worker, tucking it into his back pocket, and made his way back to the bar. Phil was standing at the far end, twisted around and watching for Dan.

And fuck, he looked good. Sometime while Dan had been gone, Phil had loosened up a little bit. The top four buttons of his shirt were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, and god help Dan because he was pretty sure he was about to come in his fucking pants. Phil looked so goddamn seductive leaning back against the bar like that, his shirt dipping down, his chest peeking out, his forearms taut.

Phil was gorgeous and sexy and so entirely manly — Dan couldn’t get enough.

It wasn’t until he was standing directly in front of Phil that Dan realized that there were no cocktails — no, instead there were two double shots in front of Phil, plus a small plate of lime wedges and a salt shaker. Tequila, then.

“Get ov’r here, mister,” Phil demanded, a smile on his face as he made grabby hands for Dan. Fucking hell, it should be illegal for someone to be so sexy and so cute at the same time. Dan could only handle so much, and his cock and his heart were competing for blood at this point. “I ordered us shots.”

“Shots, huh?” Dan teased, one hand coming to rest on the bar on the outside of Phil’s hip. “A simple drink wasn’t good enough for you, then?”

“I figured neither of us could manage a drink an’ dancing a’the same time.” Phil shrugged with a smile, turning back toward the bar and letting his arse grind into Dan’s hips as he pulled their shots closer to them.

Fuck. Phil really knew how to play Dan.

“Come here,” Phil murmured as he twisted back around, his hands landing on Dan’s hips. In one smooth movement, Phil spun them around and switched their positions. Before Dan could fully process the change, his waist was pressing into the bar and Phil’s crotch was digging into his arse. “Take a shot with me.”

Phil’s voice was deep and gruff, and the scratchiness of it made Dan’s stomach flip over and over in desire. He bloody adored how Phil was taking care of him tonight, somehow perfectly in charge of all of Dan’s needs, intuitively aware of what Dan would find the sexiest and most fun at any given moment.

Dan reached for a tequila shot with one hand, his other grabbing a lime. Realizing his mistake — it was salt, tequila, lime, after all — Dan dropped his lime in favor of reaching for the salt shaker. Phil beat him to it, though, licking a long stripe up his own hand and shaking two small mounds of salt along the line.

“Here,” Phil murmured into Dan’s ear, bringing his hand level with Dan’s mouth.

Not hesitating to check their surroundings or respond, Dan surged forward and sucked the salt off Phil’s hand. Phil moved quickly, his head dipping forward and licking his hand at the same time as Dan, their cheeks pressing together. Simultaneously, they both lifted their shots to their mouths, tipping the tequila down their throat. Behind him, Dan could feel Phil gulp, could feel his neck and his chest and his stomach move as he swallowed the alcohol.

Phil got to the lime first, holding it in front of Dan’s lips. Leaning forward, Dan sucked the lime into his mouth, taking care to drag his lips along Phil’s fingers as well. Soft vibrations rumbled against Dan’s back, and it took his drunken brain a second to realize that they were from Phil moaning.

Phil dropped the lime to the bar and reached for the other wedge, but Dan knocked his hand out of the way. It was his turn.

Grabbing the second wedge, Dan spun around to face Phil. Dan tried his intoxicated best to arrange his face into a seductive look as he held the wedge up to Phil’s mouth and nudged it against his lips. Maybe it was successful, because Dan glanced up at Phil’s eyes and saw that his pupils were wide and dark. He looked hungry, Dan thought, but it wasn’t for the lime.

Regardless, Phil parted his lips and sucked on it, pulling the tips of Dan’s fingers into the wet heat of his mouth, too.

Fucking hell, no wonder Phil had moaned when Dan had done that. Now that Dan’s fingers were in Phil’s mouth, now that Phil’s tongue was licking along his skin, Dan couldn’t help but imagine something else in Phil’s mouth, and — fuck.

Pulling back off the wedge with a loud pop, Phil smirked at Dan, linking their hands together under the bar. “Let’s go dance.”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed, breathless, carelessly dropping the lime back to the plate and letting Phil tug him along. Together, they weaved through the aisles of sofas to the steep staircase leading to the mystery basement.

When they reached the stairs, Phil dropped Dan’s hand, opting to grab the handrail instead. Rightfully so, too. The steps were steep and winding, and Dan was sure that even Sober Him would struggle. Dan followed, holding tight to the railing and sticking close to Phil.

Less than halfway down, the twisting was already fucking with Dan’s drunken head, nearly making him stumble and fall. Luckily, the staircase was narrow and Phil was directly in front of him, so Dan was able to catch himself before he tumbled out of control.

After what seemed like forever, they rounded the last twist and the stairs opened up to a packed dance floor. The music was a million times louder down here, the lights flashing and moving, subtle fog machines trying to make the whole place scream sexy. Everywhere Dan looked, there were men dancing, grinding, kissing. It was the kind of place he hadn’t gotten to indulge in since his late teens, and he was suddenly incredibly eager to embrace the atmosphere.

Stepping around Phil, Dan grabbed Phil by the hand and drug him out to the dance floor. They weaved passed couple after couple until they were packed into the middle of the crowd, disappearing into plain sight thanks to the drunk dancers surrounding them.

Dan spun around to face Phil, alcohol causing the world to blur around the edges. It took a second for Dan’s eyes to focus again, and when they did, he realized that Phil was blatantly checking him out. The way Phil was looking at him, with wide pupils and parted lips, made Dan feel like the sexiest guy in the room — maybe even in all of New York.

“C’mere,” Phil demanded, nearly shouting to be heard over the music. His message was clear though; there was no mistaking what Phil wanted when he grabbed Dan’s hips and pulled him in close. Dan stumbled forward willingly, and he had a feeling he’d walk straight across the threshold to hell if Phil guided him. On instinct, Dan wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck; they were close — so, so close. Their chests were just centimeters apart, their hands spread wide like they were trying to touch as much of each other as they could. Together, they started to move in time to the thumping bass of the music.

Dan giggled, drunk and horny and maybe just a little bit slap-happy.

What? Phil mouthed with furrowed brows and an amused smile.

Dan smiled and stepped closer so he could try to explain; their chests were touching now and Dan could feel Phil dancing. Dan leaned in so that he could yell directly into Phil’s ear. “I feel like I’m back at my year eight dance.” Dan tugged on the hair at the nape of Phil’s neck and pointedly wiggled his hips, hoping Phil would telepathically understand Dan’s logic.

Phil laughed, loud and shameless, with his tongue poking out and his eyes nearly closed. He looked happy and gorgeous and Dan’s heart was beating in a way that he was pretty sure had nothing to do with the minute amount of physical exercise.

Smile still plastered on his face, Phil pulled Dan impossibly closer, causing their hips to crash together, and god Dan loved how their hips felt when they were pressed together. He could have sworn he could feel the outline of Phil’s cock, and it only made him more excited for later.

“Only if you got kicked out,” Phil teased, his hands dropping down to Dan’s arse and squeezing, as if to prove his point. And yeah, that move was definitely forbidden back in year eight. Maybe it was a good thing too, because thirteen-year-old Dan might’ve fucking cum in his pants if someone did that to him then. Fucking hell, twenty-three-year-old Dan was on the verge of doing so, maybe the club should be a little more regulated.

Maybe a touch too late, Dan vehemently shook his head — grinding at dances wasn’t even remotely his life at thirteen. At thirteen, Dan was sexually confused and his only quality friendship was Louise. (Although, four years later, Dan was much less confused and was actively looking for just about anyone who would pop his cherry.)

Now, though, Dan was entirely comfortable with his sexual preferences, even if he did waiver between labels from time to time. At the very least, Dan could say with complete confidence that he was fucking attracted to the man in front of him, and he was fucking hot for the fact that they were surrounded by other gay couples.

And now that Phil’s hands were on his arse, pulling him closer so that their hips, their cocks, rubbed together, Dan couldn’t think about anything else.

So Dan let go. He let the champagne and the whiskey and the tequila take over, let his inhibitions fade away. The music was so loud that Dan could feel it in his soul, the remixed-nineties music just familiar enough to make Dan feel like he knew what he was doing, the added beats just fast enough to make him feel sexy. Hands still tangled around Phil’s neck, Dan pushed his hips forward and rocked them against Phi’s.

His hips moved on their own accord, swaying and grinding and moving in time with the music. Phil moved with him, their crotches rubbing together over and over as remixed versions of TLC, Christina Aguilera, and Destiny’s Child pulsed around them. It was hot, god it was hot. The dance floor was so packed, so anonymous, and Dan couldn’t hold back from closing the fucking microscopic amount of distance between them, kissing Phil over and over again as the night grew later and later.

At some point, Phil twisted Dan around. It came almost out of nowhere — one minute they were grinding together, and the next, Phil was manhandling Dan, shifting their positions so that Phil’s semi-hard cock was rubbing against Dan’s arse, and fucking hell that was hot. Some bassed-up version of Baby Got Back was playing, so loud that the song was almost all-consuming. The sober recesses of Dan’s mind tried to remind him of that scene from Friends, the one where Ross and Rachel sang this to their infant and offended each other, but the drunk and horny parts of Dan were far too focused on the way Phil was grinding into his arse, the way Phil’s hands were sliding further and further down his hips, to properly process anything about the music. Phil rubbed his hands over and over the front of Dan’s hips, pulling him closer and grazing his cock with every pass. Moaning, Dan let his head fall back onto Phil’s shoulder, and Phil’s neck was right there, so of course Dan mouthed along it. The music was too loud to hear much of anything over it, but Dan could feel Phil’s throat vibrate with a moan, could feel Phil’s fingers dig into his hips the slightest bit harder. They were touching everywhere, flushed together from head to toe and Phil felt like Dan’s whole world tonight.

Dan rocked his hips back, soaking up the heady sensation of Phil’s cock rubbing against him, feeling more and more intoxicated off lust than alcohol by the second. Trying not to overthink it, Dan reached behind himself and wrapped his arm around Phil’s neck, his fingers tangling in the short hair at the back of Phil’s head.

The breath was nearly knocked out of Dan when Phil pushed up Dan’s short shirtsleeve with his mouth, and kissed along his inner bicep as he drug his lips up Dan’s arm. Fucking hell, Dan was definitely about to combust and cum on the spot if Phil kept doing that. Phil’s lips latched onto Dan’s arm, sucking and surely leaving a mark and fuck Dan had never been so glad to have worn a short sleeve shirt as he was right now.

Once again, the music shifted, and the iconic first notes of Britney rung out. Within seconds, Dan recognized the song, and given how Phil’s fingers tightened on his hips, he reckoned Phil did, too. And god, he wanted to look at Phil while they danced to this.

Dan tried to twist around, and Phil’s grip loosened just enough to let him move, his fingers dragging deliciously over Dan’s skin as he turned. They readjusted quickly, Dan’s arms wrapping around Phil’s neck and Phil’s hands lowering to grope Dan’s arse.

“Baby, can’t you see,” Dan murmured huskily into Phil’s ear, his tongue darting out to lick Phil’s earlobe. Slowly, sensually, Dan slipped his arms from Phil’s neck and dragged his hands across Phil’s chest. He moved slowly, his fingernails raking across Phil’s shirt, pausing to rub at Phil’s nipples.

“Jesus, babe,” Phil mumbled, the words barely more than a strangled groan. The fingers on Dan’s arse tightened, forcefully pulling until Dan’s hips were grinding against Phil’s. Their cocks rubbed together, and Dan rocked his hips again, desperate to feel and feel and feel.

Phil was half hard, and so was Dan, and the friction was amazing. Pleasure shot through Dan, his cock twitching and a quiet moan tumbling from his lips. Dan couldn’t resist tangling his fingers in Phil’s hair, dragging him just the slightest bit closer, not that there was really much distance left between them.

The music continued to pound around them, and Dan continued to rock his hips forward in time with the beat. He wanted so much, and the grinding was just a small tease. Through the fabric, Dan could feel Phil growing harder and harder, making Dan want more. Heat and desire and lust were building in the pit of Dan’s stomach, and he just fucking wanted.

He wanted to taste Phil’s cock in his mouth. He wanted to feel Phil’s bare cock throbbing against his own. He wanted to be stretched around Phil, full and satisfied.

This song — this song out of all the late-nineties and early-two-thousands songs — fucking got to Dan. And he didn’t think it was fully his fault, it wasn’t like he had a thing for it three months ago. But then, one of the earliest videos he’d watched on AmazingPhil was Phil dancing half naked to this song — there was really no coming back from that.

Dan kissed up Phil’s neck, coming to a stop just a short centimeter from Phil’s ear. “Ya know,” he started huskily. He could feel Phil’s fingers dig into his arse, could see how Phil’s breath hitched. Mischievously, Dan continued, “I jacked off to this video.”

The effect was immediate — Phil froze and inhaled so sharply that Dan could actually hear the gasp over the music. For a second, the world was frozen; it was just Dan staring at Phil, a smug smirk on his face, and Phil staring back, shocked and wide-eyed.

And then Phil’s lips crashed onto Dan’s, moving insistently, hotly, and the world was moving again.

The kiss was merciless, Phil’s tongue immediately licking at Dan’s lips and demanding entrance — not that Dan was complaining. He opened his mouth and let Phil in, let Phil ravage him. Phil’s hands disappeared from Dan’s arse, only to land on his cheeks, firmly holding his head in place so Phil could kiss him harder.

There was no air in Dan’s lungs, and he didn’t give a single fuck. The shortness of breath only made everything hotter, and jesus that was a kink Dan didn’t think he had, but then again, he might find any kink hot if it was with Phil. Phil was so in control, so hungry, so domineering, and Dan couldn’t get enough of it.

Phil pulled back without warning, leaving Dan a panting mess. They were so, so close, and Phil’s eyes were nothing but black pupils. He looked ready to fucking devour Dan, and Dan really hadn’t expected this strong of a response but he was living for it. It was making him feel wanted and sexy.

“We’re going,” Phil snapped, his hands roughly unwinding Dan’s arms from his neck. “Right. Fucking. Now.”

Phil’s words were sharp, making it clear that this wasn’t a request. He sounded like he was on the verge of losing control, looked like he might shove Dan against the nearest wall, and take him right then and there.

Their fingers tangled together and Phil spun around, dragging Dan behind him as he pushed his way through the dancing crowd. It was a good thing Phil was holding Dan so tightly, because he was moving so fast that Dan might have gotten lost if their hands got separated.

Phil didn’t stop moving until they’d made it up the stairs, all the way past the sofas and down the hallway. They came to an abrupt halt in front of the coat check window and — shit, right. Their jackets.

Dan dug through his pockets, searching for the tiny ticket that he’d shoved somewhere. Phil’s heavy stare wasn’t helping, only making him feel more flustered and rushed and desperate to get the fuck out of there already.

“Dan,” Phil said, a hint of reprimand and urgency in his voice that spurred Dan to move faster. His fingers finally closed around the small slip, and he wrangled it out, holding it up triumphantly. Phil ripped the ticket out of Dan’s hand, his only response a single approving nod. Phil slammed it down on the counter, his eyes never once drifting from Dan’s.

The coat check worker chuckled — it was probably perfectly clear what was going on. But even that wasn’t enough to drag Phil’s eyes away from Dan. Dan swallowed thickly, his mouth dry, as he held Phil’s gaze. He couldn’t fucking think with Phil looking at him like that. Struck dumb, Dan licked his lips as he waited to see what would happen next.

Phil’s grip was still tight, and he tugged on Dan’s hand. Drunk and caught off guard, Dan stumbled forward, colliding with Phil.

“You’re so sexy,” Phil whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard. “I can’t wait t’fuck you.”

Dan whimpered, fucking whimpered. Phil was so much filthier than his new videos made him seem, he was dirty in all the right ways. Although, looking back, Dan could see some of this Phil in the much younger Phil that had filmed the Toxic video.

The rustling of their jackets hitting the counter jolted Dan and Phil out of their bubble. Both of their heads snapped to face the window, and Dan could tell his cheeks were probably flushed red. He’d forgotten that there was someone else nearby, that someone else was probably paying proper attention to them.

Phil reached out to pull the bundle of clothes closer, clearly avoiding looking at the coat check person. “Put this on s’we can leave,” Phil ordered, shoving Dan’s leather jacket into his chest.

Dan didn’t need telling twice; he sprung into action and clumsily shrugged into his jacket, his hands getting caught several times. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was thanks to the alcohol or lust, but he didn’t care.

Phil slapped a few bills on the counter and grabbed his own coat.

“Thanks boys,” the clerk said cheerfully. “Have a good night! Don’t forget protection!”

Oh god. Dan felt his cheeks grow hot. He didn’t mind people noticing him and Phil were itching to fuck, but christ, he really didn’t expect a random stranger to actually say it.

Phil grumbled something in response, something Dan didn’t quite hear or process, and guided Dan back down the hallway, one hand firmly pressed against Dan’s lower back.

Hot breath washed over Dan’s ear, and he belatedly realized that Phil was close. “I really don’t wanna use a condom,” Phil muttered into his ear. Dan’s breath hitched, and Phil’s fingers curled around to his sides, not giving him a chance to recover before continuing. “Wanna feel you ‘n fill you up.”

“Fuck,” Dan huffed, his mind not able to think about anything other than Phil’s bare cock pressed into him, pumping cum deep into his arse. “Yeah, please. ‘M clean.”

“Good,” Phil said with a note of finality. He opened the club door and ushered Dan through it. Dan stopped just outside the entrance, hovering and waiting for direction from Phil. Phil stood close, head bowed as he tapped on his phone. Dan looked around them, realizing that there was a line now, and the asshole bouncer from earlier was gone. Must have been after one, then.

“Ugh,” Phil groaned. “There’s a twen’y minute wait for’n uber.”

God that was so much longer than Dan wanted to wait. Brows furrowed, Dan glanced up at the street sign.

“We’re only like seven blocks from the hotel, w’can walk faster,” Dan pointed out.

“How’dya know that?” Phil asked, head snapping up, looking surprised.

Dan pointed to the numbered street sign. “Grid system. Let’s go,” Dan suggested, nodding his head in the right direction.

“Perfect,” Phil mumbled. He grabbed Dan’s hand and started walking. His pace wasn’t quite as fast as earlier, something Dan was rather grateful for. He didn’t think he could walk that quickly for seven blocks and not be too out of breath for sex.

The first block, Phil was still walking faster than normal, though. It wasn’t until they reached the first crosswalk and were forced to stop that they both breathed. The break calmed some of the out-of-control desire coursing through Dan’s veins, dulling it down to a pulsing lust. Dan turned to look at Phil, his eyes surely full of fond desire, a smile definitely pulling at his lips.

Phil bounced on his toes for a second, his movements slowing down when the light didn’t immediately change. Phil glanced at Dan, his heady expression melting slightly into something a bit softer, a bit more gentle. The passion and want were still there, but now there was something else, something sweeter, there too.

Now that they were out of the club, free from the throbbing bass of the music and away from the grinding couples, Dan’s mind felt a little clearer. It was chilly out, not quite cold but definitely cool enough that Dan felt justified leaning into Phil a bit, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder and sticking close. Phil smiled down at him fondly as Dan looked up at him through his lashes. The world around seemed to fade away, and there were butterflies fluttering in Dan’s stomach and god how was Phil so sexy and dominate and sweet all in the span of five minutes, this had to be illegal.

Dan’s eyes snapped away when the crosswalk chimed, and suddenly they were walking again. They weren’t the only ones out — if anything, there seemed to be more people on the streets now. As they made their way back to their hotel, they passed club after club, bar after bar, all with lines of drunk twenty-somethings.

Some sober, less reckless part of Dan warned him that all the people meant a higher chance of getting recognized, but he just didn’t care. He wasn’t about to stop and talk to a fan right now. It was Friday night, and the whole city seemed to be intoxicated, and Dan would just have to hope that everyone else was too drunk to notice him.

They came to stop at another intersection, just barely missing the chance to cross. Dan glanced around, taking in the city surrounding them. There was a group of girls nearby, smoking and drinking something out of brown paper bags. There were a few people outside a pizza place, drunkenly eating slices of pizza off white paper plates as they sat on the curb. There was a couple across the way, fighting loudly about something Dan couldn’t make out.

It was late and crowded and everyone was too focused on themselves to take note of anyone else. It was the kind of crowd that made everyone anonymous. The neon city lights were blurry, and made it hard to see the details of anything — although maybe that part was just Dan.

Regardless, he didn't care.

Phil was so close, so warm by Dan’s side and Dan just wanted more.

“Kiss me,” Dan asked, nearly begged, as he looked back at Phil. His voice was high and nearly breathless, so affected that he probably would have been embarrassed by how fucking needy he sounded if the situation had been different. But as it was, this was Phil, Phil who seemed to instinctively understand every single desire Dan had.

Phil smiled at Dan softly, turning so they were face to face. Without hesitation, Phil closed the distance between them, doing as Dan asked. Phil kissed him slowly but thoroughly, his lips moving languidly, his tongue slipping between Dan’s teeth and licking along the roof of his mouth.

“Mmm,” Dan hummed into Phil’s mouth as he wrapped his arms around Phil’s neck, his elbows resting on Phil’s shoulders, wrists crossed behind his head.

Phil’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, but he kept kissing, his arms wrapping around Dan’s waist and pulling him closer.

It was hot — kissing Phil would always be hot — but it was also sweet and maybe even a little romantic. Dan had never kissed someone on the street until Isabella, and in hindsight, everything about those kisses had been for the wrong reasons. This kiss, right now with Phil, wasn’t for pizza eaters or smokers or fighters. This kiss had nothing to do with the audience, and everything to do with the fact that Dan was so fucking head over heels for Phil that Dan couldn’t couldn’t resist kissing him for the two minutes it took for the crosswalk light to change.

At some point, Louise had told him that all of this was so much better when you loved someone, and Dan was realizing how right she was because just kissing had never been this good.

Love.

The word crashed over Dan, suddenly the only thing he could think as he drunkenly kissed his boyfriend in the middle of New York City at two in the morning.

Dan loved Phil.

Dan was one hundred percent, completely and totally in love with the boy kissing him.

Gasping, Dan pulled back from the kiss, his eyes flying open.

“What?” Phil asked breathlessly, a note of urgency in his voice.

“I — nothing.” Dan swallowed thickly, there was no way he could say what he was thinking. Not now, not already. His gaze drifted over Phil’s shoulder and caught on the signal, which was now showing a white walking man. “We can cross now.”

Dan hoped his voice was steady, hoped it wasn’t obvious that his mind was somewhere, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t very subtle. If Phil noticed, though, he didn’t say anything. He just followed Dan into the street, one arm still wrapped around his waist, holding Dan close as they continued walking. Dan leaned into Phil’s side, stumbling slightly and focusing entirely too much on the way Phil’s fingers had dipped under his shirt and were thumbing over his side, and not nearly enough of the sidewalk.

Yeah, Dan was definitely in love with him.

#phanfic #phanfiction #phan #phandom #phan au #barista!phil #singer!dan #au #coffeeshop au #ly #love yourself #ly 32 #iminclinedtowriting #mine

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Write It Down

strawberryfields-forever said: Ok so I absolutely LOVE your writing!! I was wondering if you could another roger Taylor Imagine where the reader gets really drunk and ends up at Rogers Place and he takes care of them and then she ends up confessing her feelings and you can take it from there? Please and thank you! Xxx

(a/n: i’m SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I CAN NEVER HELP MYSELF FUCK also this layout might be fucked when i first post it but i’ll try to fix it ASAP)

“Roger, it’s barely midnight, you’ve got to be fucking with me!” you complained, nearly tripping over yourself as he pulled you out of the pub and away from the guy who you’d just been chatting with. “Just one more pint!”

Roger ignored your incessant complaining as he got out onto the sidewalk, the pub door swinging shut behind you, and he began to look for a cab. Cursing at the lack of cars around, he quickly realized there was no way you were making it all the way back to your flat, not tonight. “My place, then,” he mumbled, letting go of your wrist to wrap his arm around your waist, starting to lead you towards his flat that was just over 7 blocks away.

“My flat is the other way!” you protested, almost being dead weight against his side as he used all of his strength to guide you down the street. “Where are we going, you silly goose?” you laughed, leaning even more on him and making him chuckle at how sloshed you were.

Despite your embarrassing situation, you were quite enjoying Roger’s arm around you. Of course, you were using all of your willpower left to keep your mouth shut, because even in your inebriated state, you knew this was not the time to clue Roger in on your little crush.

“Goose? Is that what you think of me?” he teased, helping you across the street and flipping off a car that honked at you both. “We’re going to my place, you can sleep there.”

“OoooOooOh,” you drew out, wiggling your eyebrows. “I get to go to the goose’s nest tonight!”

“My God,” he laughed, trying not to drop you as he continued to lead the way down the sidewalk, your arm wrapping loosely around his shoulder.

As he walked the 7 long blocks with you, you blabbered on and on about the guy at the bar. He had to hear about how he was an old friend from primary, and how he’d bought you drinks and asked if you’d been to a late night chips place down the road. You said you told him you hadn’t, so he offered to take you but you didn’t want to leave, and that’s about the time the “big boss Roger” showed up to end the fun.

As you walked up to the tower block Roger was living in with Brian and Freddie, you sighed dramatically and leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I tried to make you stay longer,” you mumbled, slurring your words quite a bit, but Roger already knew how to decipher your drunken ramblings. You loved that about him. In fact, there were quite a few more things you loved about him that you hadn’t told him before. It was a pity you’d become such close friends, because you reckoned that was the only thing preventing you from telling Roger how you felt about him.

He chuckled and shook his head as you both approached the stairs, Roger wondering to himself how he’d get you up to the 4th floor. “Hey, let’s crawl up the stairs, that’d be fun, right?” he suggested, hoping you’d take to the idea. You groaned before starting to crawl up them, knowing the alternative was being carried and that would kill Roger before you got to the 2nd floor.

Roger followed, snickering a bit at the state of you, but encouraged you all the way to his floor, where you decided to lay down. “Rog, I’m beat,” you complained, pressing a hand against your head and closing your eyes. “I think I’m going to sleep here.”

“No, no, Y/N, don’t be a drama queen, that’s Fred’s job,” he ordered, grabbing ahold of your hand and pulling you up to what could be considered a standing position. Throwing your arm over his shoulder, he managed to drag you down to his flat as you apologized for trying to sleep. He then unlocked the door kicked it open gently, calling out for his roommates.

You decided to join in. “Freddieeeee,” you sang, your eyes still halfway closed and heavily lidded as you laughed at how terrible you sounded. “Briaaaann, come out, come out, wherever you are!”

Roger carefully sat you down on the sofa, patting your head gently before heading off to their rooms to find them empty. They must have decided to stay longer at the pub than they had originally planned, which made Roger groan softly. He was alone in getting your drunk ass to bed.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” he said as he came back into the front room, where you’d managed to pull off your shoes and sprawl out on the couch. Your heart fluttered as you realized you were truly alone with Roger, and anything could happen. Jesus, I must be really drunk if I’m thinking we’re going to do anything but go to sleep tonight, you thought. “Let’s get a glass of water in you, eh?”

You nodded once, smiling lopsidedly up at him before closing your eyes and humming to yourself. As Roger grabbed a glass of water and some Tylenol for you, he heard you start to quietly sing off-key, then suddenly, you stopped. After a pause, you called out to him. “Rog, come sing your harmony, you bastard!”

You then began to sing Doing All Right unbearably loud, Roger trying to shush you and try not to laugh as he reminded you of the upstairs neighbor who hated how loud they were. As if on cue, the upstairs neighbor stomped on the floor, which made you shut up and look at Roger with an impish grin. He looked adorable tonight, and you hated yourself for noting that. He was supposed to be your best friend and confidant, and now here you were wondering why you hadn’t made out with him already.

As you admired him, he couldn��t help but grin back at you. Shaking his head, he helped you sit up, handing you the water and Tylenol before sitting next to you and pulling his shoes off. You gratefully took the pills and water, then sat the glass on the nightstand next to you before laying down again, sprawling over Roger’s lap and making him raise an eyebrow at you. “I’m sorry for being loud,” you practically whispered, running a hand over your face before giving him a guilty look. “I promise I’ll be good now.”

“You’re awfully apologetic tonight,” he remarked, relaxing back against the couch and spreading one arm out along the back while the other hand rested on your stomach lightly. “How come you never want to apologize to me when you’re not a shitfaced mess?!”

“Oh, fuck off and die,” you automatically replied, reaching out to smack his chest playfully. As soon as you did it, your jaw dropped and you began apologizing profusely, becoming a babbling mess again.

He began to shush you again, laughing in between shushes and finally resorting to putting a hand over your mouth. Quieting again, Roger gave it a moment before moving his hand to play with a strand of your hair instead. “I think it’s time you went to bed, sweetheart.”

“No, I’m finnne!” you swore, though your drooping eyelids told him otherwise. He gave you a look, which made you whine and roll off his lap, crawling to the floor and starting to make your way towards his bedroom. “You’re such a bully,” you whined as you slowly crawled your way down the hallway, Roger following close behind and rolling his eyes.

“Do you want to sleep on the floor tonight?” he warned, which made you crawl faster and scramble into his bed when you got to his room. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’m sorry, Rog, I didn’t mean it,” you whined, crawling under his covers and peeking out at him as he started to get ready for bed. “Thank you for taking care of me tonight,” you added, wanting to get back on his good side. “I really ‘preciate it, honestly. You’re the best.”

“That’s my job,” he reassured, pulling off his shirt and tossing it in his dirty laundry as you watched him. You admired his remarkably slender build that contradicted somewhat with his status as a drummer. He didn’t have any remarkably prominent muscles on him, but he was still toned, and though his hair was longer, he didn’t seem too feminine to you in the dim light that was coming through his blinds from the city lights outside. Though, would it matter if he did look feminine? You found yourself thinking that Roger was attractive to you in any state, drunk or sober, angry or happy, mean or nice, any way, any day.

“You’re my faaavorite, Roggie,” you said affectionately, overwhelmed with admiration for him all of a sudden.

Roger laughed at that, glancing back at you before going over to his closet. “I’d bloody hope so.”

“You don’t have to take care of me, like this, you know?” you mumbled, still watching him as he searched for some pajama pants in his piles of clothes. “I know I can be a bit much, and you’re soooo fucking wonderful for putting up with me,” you continued on, Roger smirking at that. He found a pair of pajama pants, which he started switching into, so you looked at the ceiling out of courtesy and started to close your eyes. “I mean it, Rog. You’re the best, you treat me wayyyyy too well. There’s nothing keeping you here-”

“Well, it’s my flat,” he interjected, making you open your eyes again and shoot him a dirty look. “I’m sorry, go on about how I’m the best,” he laughed, starting to crawl into bed with you and making you scoot over as he laid on his side next to you, watching you expectantly with his head propped up on one hand. You were suddenly nervous, Roger no closer than he’d ever been to you before. You’d slept in the same bed before, but you’d never felt so much love for him all at once while in such close proximity. Unable to filter yourself, you continued.

“I meant, like, I’m just me and that’s alright, I guess, but there’s no reason for you to stick around and take all my bullshit like you do. Like, you’re not my boyfriend or anything,” you rambled, both you and Roger not sure where you were going with this. The alcohol still coursing through your body propelled you, however, and you kept talking. “But I’on’t know, I always thought you’d end up my boyfriend, as much as you put up with me, but I’ve pretty much just given up that idea. You keep sticking around anyways, honestly kind of scamming yourself, you are,” you admitted, avoiding eye contact with Roger and instead looking at his collarbones as you played with the duvet nervously. You knew you’d started to say too much, but your stupid feelings wouldn’t stop coming out because you were so nervous and Roger being right there made you even more nervous.

“You thought we’d end up dating?” Roger asked, no hint of emotion in his voice to suggest he leaned either way on the issue. He was asking more for a clarification, which made you even more shaky as you tried to compose a response that wasn’t horridly revealing. However, that worked out about as well as it could, considering the amount of alcohol you’d consumed before leaving the bar.

“I guess, yeah,” you mumbled, still afraid to look up at him. “Fred’s always teasing me about when you’re going to ask me out, so I guess after a certain point… I didn’t mind the idea of it anymore?” The last part of the sentence came out as more of a question, and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally smacking yourself for sounding so terrified. Fuck it. I’m already this far gone, why not just let it all out? “No,no, no, not I guess. I know I don’t mind the idea anymore. Actually, I’m a bit bummed you still haven’t asked me out. What’s with that?”

“Very subtle, Y/N,” Roger teased, reaching up to replace a stray hair that had fallen into your face. “Fred’s been bothering you about me, has he? I’ll have to tell him off tomorrow.”

“Oh, please don’t!” you begged, quickly looking up at him with a desperate look in your eyes. “He’ll know that I told you that I fancy you and then I’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Well, now there’s news,” Roger commented, a blush creeping on to your cheeks as you realized how stupidly you’d just told him how you felt about him. Shit, you’ve done it now, Y/N. “You never said you fancy me, love, not until just now. What’s with that?”

“Oh, forget it,” you groaned hopelessly, rolling over to face away from him and pulling the covers over your head. The room felt like it was spinning as you laid there in the dark, and you took a few deep breaths to calm down. “Forget I even said that, I’m sloshed and don’t know what I’m doing.”

Roger began to laugh, tugging the covers back down and booing you. “Oh, boo you, I was just taking the piss. Look at me, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.” You reluctantly rolled back over, giving him the stink eye as you kept the covers pulled up to your shoulders, trying to hide as much vulnerability as possible. “Now, back to the asking you out thing, when did Fred start to bother you about this?”

You wracked your brain, struggling to pull memories through the muddle of alcohol and embarrassment, but you finally recalled at least an approximate date and managed to choke it out. “A couple months ago, maybe?”

“Damn! He was supposed to keep his mouth shut,” Roger cursed, mainly to himself. “Also, you’ve been taking this from him for two whole months?”

“Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly, sounding ashamed. Then, your brain latched on to what he said before, and starting racing as you tried to figure out what he’d meant. “Freddie was supposed to keep his mouth shut about what?” you pried, suddenly propping your head up on one hand too.

Roger chuckled, then shook his head and laid down on his back, his eyes lazily tracing around the ceiling as he answered nonchalantly. “Well, if you must know, I told him I’d been thinking about asking you out a couple months ago, when we were recording one night. But I’d honestly been having so much fun and going out with you anyways these last few months, I didn’t even think about it anymore. I thought he’d zipped it, but that worked about as well as I should have expected… Lead singers, they have such big mouths.”

Your face broke out into a wide grin as you processed what he was saying. “God, I better be sober enough now to remember this in the morning,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes to stop the room from spinning and hardly believing what had just went down.

“I’ll convince you it was a dream,” Roger taunted, looking over at you only to receive more stink eye from you.

“I’m going to write it down right now so I don’t forget,” you stated, climbing over him and out of the bed in a determined fashion, Roger trying to grab you to keep you from leaving but failing. You clumsily made your way over to his desk and grabbed a pencil and his journal that he wrote songs in, flipping through the pages to find an empty one while Roger untangled himself from the duvet that you’d gotten him wrapped up in.

“Hey, don’t read that!” he exclaimed, nearly falling off the bed as he tried to scramble over to you, so you ran out of the room, nearly slipping in the hallway as you made your way to the bathroom and locked yourself in. Roger got there two seconds too late, banging on the door as you leaned against the other side, knowing the lock wouldn’t hold long if he had a key. “Are you mad, Y/N? Give me my song book!”

You ignored him, figuring he genuinely didn’t want you to remember what he’d confessed, and kept going through the pages. On your quest to find an empty one, something caught your eye as you flipped through quickly, and you stopped. Going back, you realized that it was your name that had gotten your attention, and you got back to the page to find a song titled after you.

Curiosity got the best of you and you started reading his scribblings as best as you could. You realized it was a love song, and your heart soared as you smiled wider than you figured you ever had. Roger liked you as much as you fancied him, and now you had proof.

You heard Roger start to unlock the door with a key so you unlocked it anyways, swinging it open to find a disheveled Roger. His hair was unkempt, the duvet still caught around his foot, and he was looking at you wildly as he tried to rationalize what to do next. You were just smiling at him, his song book still open to the page you were just reading, and you held it up to show him. 

Visibly deflating, he snatched the song book from you and put a hand on your upper back, pushing you firmly but gently in the direction of his room like you were a small child in trouble for getting out of bed past bedtime.

“I didn’t write that,” he lied lamely, just making you giggle and laugh as you entered his room, crawling back into his bed. “It was… Brian. Yeah, Brian borrowed my journal and wrote that about you! Right weirdo, he is. I don’t write that mushy crud like him and Deacy.”

He leaned on his desk with one hand to reach down and unwrap the duvet from his ankle, and when he looked back up at you, you were still grinning and giggling at him. He sighed, mainly at himself, and came back over to the bed, tossing the duvet over you before reluctantly crawling back into bed with you and laying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Whatever you say, Rog,” you finally replied, Roger groaning softly as he refused to recognize he was on the embarrassing side of things now. However, when you curled up against his side and draped your arm loosely over his stomach, he didn’t push you away. 

In fact, as you drifted off peacefully, he even smiled a bit and wrapped an arm around you protectively, drifting off himself as he realized that, no matter how embarrassing, he’d finally gotten what he’d wanted after all this time – you.

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #queen imagine #i did this instead of doing homework hahaha #oops #roger taylor

[breaktheworldforyou]

Notes of Import

Before Kima could protest, Allura had snatched the rest of her notes from her hands and hurried back to her desk, tossing papers and a few spare quills into her bag.

“Wait, no! Allie!”

“We have to hurry, Kima, this is important!”

“But Allie-“

“No time! Come on!”

Before Kima could get another word out, Allura had grabbed her hand, and the world flashed blue around them. When the bright light subsided, Kima found herself standing in front of the council chambers.

“Gods damn it!”  

Kima startled awake. Frustration made it high pitched and strengthened the light accent, but the voice was unmistakably Allura’s.

The curse was worrying, though.

Kima rose and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The slanted morning light streamed through one of the tall windows, framing the figure of Allura, hunched over her desk. There papers strewn across the surface and a quill in her hand.

“Everything okay?” Kima asked with a yawn. She snatched one of Allura’s soft shirts from the dresser next to the bed and pulled it over her head before padding over to join Allura.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Allura assured her. She ran a hand through her hair with a sigh. “It’s just… so much happened in that meeting yesterday, and I’m supposed to report to the council later and I know the Marquesian general said something relevant to the trade routes but I was so distracted by Asum’s report that I-“

“Hey, calm down,” Kima said. She shifted some of the clutter on Allura’s desk aside and jumped up so she was seated on the edge, looking into Allura’s face. There was a crease in her brow, and bags under her eyes, and Kima wanted nothing more than to smooth them away and let the woman rest. But Kima knew Allura would refuse any such plan until the report was finished. “No one expects you to remember every single detail, Allie. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Besides, I was there too, you know.”

Allura’s expression turned dubious, one eyebrow arched. “And you were paying enough attention to remember what the general said?”

Kima crossed her arms and huffed, swinging her legs impetuously. “Hey! I can pay attention. Besides, you asked me to take notes.”

“To give you something to do, not because I actually thought you-“

But Kima had already jumped to her feet and was halfway across the room before Allura could finish her sentence. The damn woman took far too much on her own shoulders, she always had. And while Kima had suspected that Allura was just trying to keep her still, she also knew Allura wouldn’t waste her time with something frivolous. It wasn’t in her nature. So yes, Kima had taken notes. Maybe not the best notes. She may have drifted off for a while, but Allura was stressed, and Kima didn’t think it necessary to mention that. She was pretty sure she had been awake for the general’s report, at any rate.

She dug through her little bag, where it rested on the nightstand. There! Paper. A little crumpled, but at least it was intact.

Spreading the papers out on the bed in front of her, Kima started scanning, trying to find the relevant section. The pages had gotten jumbled in transit.

“Ah, here!” she cried at last, finding the page she was looking for. “The general said that in his experience, sky ships traveling over the desert typically-“

A hand pressed against Kima’s shoulder, making her jump. She had been so focused she hadn’t heard Allura approach.

“Hey! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Allura chuckled behind her. She leaned over Kima’s shoulder, trying to read the notes spread out on the bed, but before she could Kima hurriedly scooped them up.

“I mean it’s not like my handwriting is all that great or anything, they’re not exactly a thrilling read,” she rambled, struggling to gather the pages.

“Okay,” Allura said, amused. Kima clambered onto the bed, notes firmly in hand, and started to shuffle through them to find the page she had just been reading from.

“Kima?’ Allura’s voice sounded. Kima glanced up. “You missed a page.”

Before Kima could reclaim the paper, however, Allura froze, eyes on the text.

“Kima,” she said, thinly veiled excitement filling her voice, “did the general really say this? About the caravans?”

She handed the page over and Kima looked at the line in question. She shrugged. “I mean I don’t exactly sit around making up boring negotiation talk in my spare time. If I wrote it down he probably said it.” She eyed the page again, trying to think back through the endless slog of discussion and debate. “Oh yeah, I remember that. He seemed a little shifty, so I jotted it down.”

A huge grin had crossed Allura’s face and Kima could tell that if she were any less dignified she would have been jumping up and down. “Kima, that directly contradicts what he told us later. We have to take this in front of the council!”

Before Kima could protest, Allura had snatched the rest of her notes from her hands and hurried back to her desk, tossing papers and a few spare quills into her bag.

“Wait, no! Allie!”

“We have to hurry, Kima, this is important!”

“But Allie-“

“No time! Come on!”

Before Kima could get another word out, Allura had grabbed her hand, and the world flashed blue around them. When the bright light subsided, Kima found herself standing in front of the council chambers.

***

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention, Allura.” Asum said.

The entire council was gathered around a table in one of the meeting rooms. Kima sat in the corner, face flaming red and buried in her hands.

Across from her, Tofor started giggling.

Asum sighed. “Tofor. Do you have something constructive to add?”

Tofor giggled again, one hand across her mouth to try and stifle her laughter. “No, I’m sorry. I just- I didn’t expect Kima to be a doodler!” Several other council members broke as well, struggling to contain their laughter.

Kima groaned.

“No, no!” Tofor assured her. “Don’t get me wrong, Kima, this is an excellent rendition of a chicken eating the general.”

Allura sighed.

“Look at this one! I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dog in trousers before,” someone else added.

There was a shuffling of papers as the drawings were passed around and compared.

“Wait,” Tofor said, reaching for the stack. “Does this- it does! Look! ‘A + K Vysoren’ surrounded by little hearts!”

A chorus of “awwwws” sounded from around the table. “Okay, that’s enough!” Allura said, snatching the paper out of Tofor’s hand. “As much as I would love to stand around appreciating my wife’s art, we should really focus on- oh. Is that me? Kima, darling, that’s very sweet of you.”

If it were possible Kima was certain her face would have flushed a few shades redder. As it was she could feel the blush crawling up into her hairline. “I’m out,” she announced, standing.

“No, wait, Kima!” Tofor said. She sounded genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry. We’ll stop now, I promise.”

Kima glared at her. Before she could say anything else, Allura took her hand gently and guided her to a corner where they could talk a little more privately. She gathered her skirts and knelt carefully in front of Kima - something she virtually never did in public. In front of Sirrus and Dohla and Ghenn, yes. But rarely anyone else. She was, Kima realized with a start, equalizing the playing field, in a sense. Being vulnerable in front of the others like this. She tucked a strand of Kima’s hair behind her ear, cutting her reflections short. “I’m sorry, love. I should have checked with you before handing over your notes like that.”

“It’s okay,” Kima said with a sigh. “I know it was important. I just can’t show my face again for a bit.”

Allura laughed and kissed her forehead. “That’s not true. I think they were impressed by your drawings, if anything. I might keep the ones you did of me.”

Kima ducked her head to hide her smile. “Whatever. They’re just stupid doodles. I hope you find what you need, though.”

Allura smiled and pulled her into a hug. “I think we have. Thanks for saving the day again.”

Kima glanced around, eyeing the rest of the council suspiciously. To their credit they appeared to be trying to give them space, gathered around one of the pages and either locked in heated debate regarding the contents, or animated discussion of another of Kima’s drawings. Kima fervently hoped it was the former.

Taking her chance, she pressed a quick kiss to Allura’s cheek before turning on her heel and running out the door. “See you at home!” she called over one shoulder. Allura’s quiet chuckle followed her as she hurried down the hall.

#critical role #lady kima #lady kima of vord #allura vysoren #kimallura #this is just kinda silly #but they're so cute I couldn't help it #kima doodles on everything I've decided #allura loves her all the more for it #fanfic #my post

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Interesting flight

And here it is, the end of Klance AU Month. I actually did it, I did a story for every day, well except day 10 but I've done a whole series on YouTuber, I think I was allowed to skip an AU I knew I wasn't good at. A big thanks to @monthlyklance  for moding this event of sorts and being very nice as I sent them link after link of my fics because tumblr wouldn't show my stories in the tag search. Don't know if I'll do this again, maybe when I know time won't be taken up by classes. Wasn't my best fic I think but it's been a long day. Free Day (Single Parent AU)

“Are we going to see granny?” Sylvio asked, watching his uncle feed his little sister.

“Yeah, are you excited?” Lance asked, pulling the empty bottle away from Nadia’s mouth and then handing it to the young boy.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to spend my birthday with them. Uncle Lance?”

“Hmm, what’s wrong?”

“Can we go see mommy and papi?”

Lance’s smile faded a little. Sylvio’s parents, his own older brother and sister-in-law, died in a car crash. Lance had been babysitting his niece and nephew, being the only family member living in L.A like Marco, while everyone was in Florida. He’d just put the kids to sleep, wondering where his brother even was when he got a call. Everything had changed in that night. Being the only one of age that was in the area, Lance had gone from an uncle who was going to start working at the local kindergarten to being a stand in parent. It was hard, having to readjust, having to explain to his nephew that his parents weren’t coming back, to try and calm his niece who’d cry for her parents’ way of calming her. Sylvio had finally understood that his uncle was going to take care of him and his sister from then on, he seemed to grow up. He was only 4, Lance hated that he felt like he should be the one help take care of Nadia when all he should be concerned with was living as a 4 year old. Lance had sent the ashes of Marco and his wife Lisa to Florida to live with his parents after he’d find Sylvio staring at the urn for hours.

“Sure buddy. You need to tell them about all you’ve been up to.”

“We’re about to start boarding for Flight 239 from Los Angles to Florida. Please look at your ticket for your boarding group number. We’d like to invite our first class flyers and membership flyers to start boarding.”

“Grab our tickets buddy.” Lance instructed as he fitted Nadia into the front carrier, feeling her little breaths against his chest. “What number we got?”

“1!” Sylvio called, showing off the tickets to his uncle.

“That’s right. You hold on tight to that ok? I’ll hold our bag alright?”

“We now invite group 1 to board.”

“That’s us! Let’s go Uncle Lance.” Sylvio said, jumping from his seat and running to the line. Lance smiled apologetically to the people who’d been cut off by Sylvio. The flight attendants smiled down at Sylvio as they took the tickets and scanned them before pointing then in the right direction.

“Whoa, buddy, not so fast.” Lance said as Sylvio ran down the corridor to the plane.

“Hello little one.” The flight attendant at the entrance said, helping Sylvio onto the plane. “What’s your name?”

“Sylvio. That’s my sister Nadia and my Uncle Lance.”

“Is it your first time on a plane?”

“Yeah! I’m going to see my granny.”

“Oh, well when you go see her, you’ll have to show her this.” The flight attendant pulled out a pin of wings and attached it to Sylvio’s shirt.

“Uncle Lance, look!”

“Looking good buddy. Can you ask her where our seat is?”

“Oh, where are we sitting?” Sylvio asked, letting the flight attendant look at the ticket.

“You’re number 12 B which means you’re on the left. Do you know where your left hand is?”

“Yes!” he relied holding up his left hand.

“Let’s go buddy. Thank you.”

Using his left hand, Sylvio counted the chairs they passed slowly, Lance reminding him which numbers came next. They reached their seats and Lance had Sylvio climb into the seat by the window when he realised he had a problem. Nadia was still on his chest and he had to lift the carry on suitcase into the overhead bin. He could take her off and lay her down in the seats, but he could feel her start to squirm and he didn’t trust Sylvio to keep her still.

“Do you need help?” Lance looked to see the person standing behind him. he only had a backpack on, his sweatshirt drowning him.

“Um, if you could? I don’t want to risk hitting her.”

“Of course, back up a bit.” Like the suitcase weighed nothing, he picked it up and slid it into the overhead bin. Once it was set, he gestured for Lance to sit down. He waited for Lance the sit in his seat next to Sylvio before pulling his bag off and sitting next to him.

Their seat was the one right after the last first class seat so in no time, Sylvio climbed off his seat and sat on the floor. Lance didn’t say anything as it would still be some time until he had to sit his nephew down again and focused on making sure Nadia’s baby bag, that also held his laptop and tablet he’d given to Sylvio for the trip was under his seat. He didn’t want to have to shove it in the overhead bin. He saw that their aisle mate was the same, shoving his bookbag under his seat.

“Excuse me,” one of the flight attendants asked, “we have basinets if you want one for your daughter?”

“Niece and thank you.” Lance said, patting Nadia as she started to whine a little.

“You probably have time to feed her before we take off.” Their aisle mate said.

Lance looked over at him. he’d stripped his sweatshirt, not bothering to fix his shirt, which even its mess showed his fit figure. He also noticed how long his hair was. It was past his shoulders and looked really soft. He hoped Nadia didn’t spot it. Lisa had long hair so Nadia was used to long hair being near her when she was being held.

“She already ate. Thankfully she got hungry before we had to board.”

The guy looked down at Sylvio who was looking under the seats. “You having fun down there?”

“Uh huh!”

He let out a small laugh, smiling at Sylvio. Thank god, he seemed to like kids. “Cute kid.”

“It’s in his genes. We McClains are adorable.”

“I’m sure.”

Everyone was seated and Lance had coaxed Sylvio up to his seat for take-off. Their aisle mate offered him gum to help with the pressure build-up, letting Sylvio take an extra one. Nadia had dozed off and Lance hoped she’d stay like that for a while. Sylvio’s eyes were glued to the open window as the plane went down the runway and started to pick up speed.

“We’re going fast!”

“Keep chewing buddy, it’ll help your ears.” Lance said.

Soon the plane tipped up and they took off. Sylvio’s chewing slowed as he watched the world below the plane grow smaller. Lance glanced down as Nadia’s face scrunched up. He gently shushed her, hoping she stayed asleep. As they got higher though, she moved around more and woke up crying. Lance groaned in his head. Crying baby and they weren’t allowed to move around yet, just his luck.

Sylvio, thank god, turned away from the window and started asking his sister what was wrong. Usually it would calm her down slightly but Lance guessed the pressure was hurting her too much for her to pay attention to her brother.

“Is it the pressure bothering her?” His aisle mate asked.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, really. I know people get annoyed by it but babies can’t really control these things.”

Lance was extremely grateful of the understanding man. Finally the seatbelt sign turned off and Lance blocked out what the head flight attendant was saying as he undid his seatbelt and was let out by the still slightly ruffled man. “Sylvio, stay here ok?”

“Ok.”

Lance tried to ignore the looks he got as Nadia continued to cry. He hadn’t gotten the chance to grab her pacifier though he doubted she’d keep it in her mouth. He gently shushed her, bouncing as he tried to calm her down. Thankfully her cries lessened but she still whined loudly.

“Shh, shh, you’re ok.” He whispered when he saw the same man coming towards him. he moved away from the bathroom thinking he was heading there.

“Your, um, nephew, asked me check on you?”

“Sylvio yeah. He knows he can’t do it himself. You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind. What’s her name?”

“Nadia.”

“Nadia.” He called, standing next to Lance. “Nadia.”

Hearing a new voice, Nadia tired looking for it, her whining quieting some.

“Do you want to try holding her?”

“If it’s ok.”

“Sure. Help me?” he asked, pointing to the buckle on his back.

It was unclipped and Lance slipped the handles off, keeping Nadia close to him. he let the other man take her, easily taking her into his arms.

“You’re pretty good.”

“My brother has a kid, I volunteered at their day-care.”

Nadia’s whining stopped as she stared up at the new face. She blinked and reached out her hand.

“Wait, Nadia, no!” Lance said as she gripped his hair, holding it firm in her grip. Her gaze was completely fixed on the long black strands in her fist. “I am so sorry. She has a thing with hair, she doesn’t let – no don’t put it in your mouth! Oh god, Nadia.”

“It’s ok. I mean there are worse ways to spend a flight. I never did introduce myself, I’m Keith.” He said, his hand pulling Nadia’s fist away from her mouth.

“Lance, hi. Um, she’s not going to let go.”

“It’s ok, I don’t mind holding her. Besides, you still have your nephew to worry about.”

“Um, right. Thanks.” Lance pulled off the carrier entirely and lead them back to there seats where Sylvio stared at his sister in Keith’s arms.

“She liked his hair?”

“You know your sister. Do you want your tablet?”

“Yes please.”

“How old is he?” Keith asked letting Nadia stand on his lap so he wouldn’t risk her pulling out his hair.

“4.”

“He talks a lot for a 4 year old.”

“Another gene of McClains, we don’t have an off switch.” Lance said, opening the armrest to pull out the try for Sylvio, letting him navigate the tablet on his own. “So you volunteer at your um?”

“Nephew. I picked him up one day and was asked to stick around to help with something and the next thing I knew, I kept going back. I work in security so kids except my nephew I never thought were my forte. Turns out I’m not bad with them.”

“I can tell. I work at a kindergarten and I don’t think I’ve managed to calm a fussy kid down the quickly.”

“I guess you’d be good with kids. You got Sylvio very worried about you.”

Lance gained a pain smile on his face, “it for a different reason. Their parents died a while back. I went from babysitting uncle to new dad in a night.” Looking over at Sylvio who focused on the tablet. “Sylvio had to understand that so young. When I dropped him off to school on the first day back, he wouldn’t stop crying for hours and of course seeing her brother cry made Nadia sad.”

“That must have been a lot.”

Lance nodded. “It was. Parenting is terrifying enough. It’s hard but a smile from either of these two makes it feel worth it.”

“I know they must apr-Ow!” Keith was cut off when Nadia pulled on his hair.

“No Nadia.” Lance said, pulling her fist open, even though she whined. Keith sat her on his lap and gave her his hand to play with. “Again, really sorry.” He said, pushing Keith’s hair off his shoulders.

“Here’s that bassinet.” The flight attendant came and attached the carrier onto the wall in front of them, pressing down on it to make sure it was stable. “Let’s give your boyfriend’s lap a break.

“Oh, uh, he’s not my boyfriend.” Lance corrected, feeling his cheeks getting hot.

“What’s a boyfriend?” Sylvio asked, Lance frowning at him.

“Now you pull your attention from the tablet. Don’t worry about that silly.”

“Sorry, it’s just she seems so comfortable on his lap and he seemed so nice to you as you were boarding. My apologies. We’ll start the drink service soon.”

“Thank you.” Once the flight attendant left, Lance turned to Keith. “I honestly feel like all I’m doing is apologizing.”

Keith lifted Nadia off his lap and placed her in the basinet, watching her look around. “It’s ok. I can certainly say this is one of the most interesting flights I’ve been on.”

#klance au month #lance adopted sylvio and nadia

[kissmy-astro]

Friendly Wager

Pairing: Jeno x Jaemin x Reader Poly relationship

Genre: Fluff, Semi-Angst??

Requested by @l-lliann| Request are OPEN| Note: Probably not my best work but hey i tried.

Summary: What was once a small bet spirals into chaos. Jaemin bets he can take all of Y/n’s attention away from Jeno. But things take a wrong turn after less than a day of Jaemin’s game. 

It was a normal Saturday, you were at the store getting food and drinks for you and your boyfriends; Jeno and Jaemin. While you were gone the boys were talking until Jaemin decided a little bet would be fun. “I bet i can get all of Y/n’s attention towards me.” Jaemin exclaims with that signature smirk of his. Jeno shakes his head “ That’s not right. Plus, she loves both of us equally so it wouldn’t matter.” After some convincing, Jaemin got Jeno to agree. Once you got back was when the the game began, it started out with Jaemin giving you a simple hug and kiss before dragging you away to the kitchen. “Let me say hi to Jeno” you’d protest since you hadn’t said anything to him yet. “Later Y/n, we have a nice day planned, a movie and cuddles?” He say in a romantic voice, kissing your hair. Jaemin always knew how to steer your focus away from certain things. Without a thought, you smile and start to set up the food and snacks for a relaxing time with your boyfriends. Jeno pouts watching the whole unfold, he’s starting to regret his decision. He knows he’s in for a LONG night cause he knows Jaemin plays dirty.

The rest of the night was spent watching a movie, Jeno hadn’t been able to say a single word. When he tried he would get cut off by Jaemin. It didn’t seem like you noticed. “Hey Y/n, can you pass me a water?” Jeno merely asked. “Yeah, sure babe.” you went to reach for the water when Jaemin started to tickle you. Your fits of laughter kept you from giving him a drink. Afterwards, you had forgot about getting his water but Jeno didn’t want to ask again. All night was Jaemin flirting with you and you of course being flustered just brushed it off as normal. At some point Jaemin managed to move the both of you further across the couch, away from poor Jeno left on the opposite side. Sighing Jeno gets up and steps into the kitchen. He stands by the counter just watching. You didn’t seem to notice he left. However, Jaemin was sending him sly glances from the couch. It angered Jeno to no end, he didn’t think it would actually happen.

Only when the movie ended, did you notice the lack of Jeno in the room. You looked around only to find him in the kitchen drinking water with a rather depressed yet angry look on his face. “Jeno, are you alright?” he looked like he was holding back when he answered, “I’m fine” his tone sounded sarcastic which was very out of character for him. “You don’t need to be sarcastic about it and i can tell something is wrong.” This time Jaemin wasn’t planning on budding since he was the one who caused this and didn’t want to make it worse. “Okay? and i don’t need to tell you what’s wrong so..” Jeno just rolls his eyes not in the mood to talk any further. “Well, excuse me! I’m just trying to help.” You scoffed at his words. Jeno couldn’t talk it anymore, he told you what was wrong but not in a way anyone expected. “ You want to know what’s wrong?! I feel neglected cause Nana over there dragged you away the whole night and you said nothing, You did NOTHING! You didn’t even say hi to me when you came home! You simply just forgot about me!” He yelled a lot louder than he intended. The unfamiliar voice scared you to be honest. Jeno was never one to shout in anger to another person. Too scared to say anything else, you ran to your room. You couldn’t handle always sweet Jeno yelling at you. Once you were out of the room Jaemin confronted Jeno with a rather not happy tone. “ Dude, You didn’t need to yell at her like that. She didn’t know what was happening.” Jeno looked at him “You always play dirty. I hadn’t been able to say more than a few words in. This bet shouldn’t have even happened in the first place.” Jaemin looked at him apologetically, he knew he took it too far. “I’m sorry man, look let’s just go explain to her what happened. It’s the least we can do after that outburst of yours.” They bro hugged it out and made their way to your room.

They open the door to find you sitting on your bed looking at the wall. Both of them sit on both sides of you. Jaemin was the first to speak, “Y/n, we’re sorry. I bet Jeno that i could take all your attention. It was childish and went way too far.” Jeno then spoke, “I only got mad for a dumb reason and thought you didn’t care about me. I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I am so sorry” you processed everything they just said. “Why would you guys do that? For what purpose.” you shook your head at them. “It was only meant to be a friendly wager but I took it too far.” Jaemin explained as he put a hand on the small of your back. Jeno hugged you, “we’ll do anything for you to forgive us.” The next week was spent with whatever they could do for you to forgive them aka whatever you wanted. You forgave them after about 2 days but they felt they owed you. They really are the best even if they make stupid bets.

#NCT #nct dream #nct jeno #nct jaemin #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct fanfic #kpop

[theartofdreaming1]

The Taste of Something Stolen, Part 1: Beginning

Pairing: Batcat

Rating: T

Summary: Some people steal kisses. Selina Kyle is a thief by profession, she doesn’t have time for this touchy-feely stuff - if anything, she kisses in order to steal. However, whenever Bruce Wayne gets involved, her current theft usually ends up being a little bit of both.

A short series of loosely connected one-shots :)

It was Friday noon and seventeen-year-old Selina Kyle was observing the coming and goings of the Diamond District, Gotham’s financial district, her green eyes scanning the crowd for a target. So what if she was swiping some business shark’s wallets? They had their more than lucrative jobs to go to every day of their mundane lives - Selina, on the other hand, was going to be put out on the streets as soon as she was turning eighteen (not that the orphanage was a place she was gonna miss, but career opportunities were few and far between for an orphaned troublemaker from the East End - she was just making sure she had a financial cushion to fall back on when ‘Day X’ arrived.)

She had worked out a true and tested procedural method: with her backpack half open, she’d “accidentally” bump into her target (normally some boring middle-aged white man, as most of these suits were), the contents of her backpack would be sent flying across the ground, causing enough of a distraction for Selina to pick the (by now full on swearing) man’s pocket - by the time her target had finished cursing her out, Selina had safely stowed away Angry White Man’s money in her own pocket.

It wasn’t exactly the most fun method, but the satisfaction of a job well done as well as the fruits of her labor made it worth it.

This had been going on quite successfully for a couple of weeks now; so successful in fact, that Selina was getting a little bored if she was being honest with herself. Which is why Selina had decided to switch it up a little today.

Her newest mark was just now exiting Wayne Enterprises, wearing a simple, but very expensive-looking black coat and a brooding expression on his face. He appeared to be around Selina’s age and was already parading around the biggest companies in Gotham (the Rolex on his arm made it more than clear that he was not just some low-paid intern at WE) - the stark contrast between her own situation and Mr. Silver Spoon just affirmed Selina in her choice of a target: In a way, she was just leveling the playing field, if you really thought about it… She was simply… redistributing all that wealth a little among their age group...

As an added bonus, he was actually pretty handsome, something that would make the execution of her exit strategy, should she have to fall back on it, a little more bearable...

After making sure that everything was ready for her little maneuver, Selina shouldered her backpack determinedly and headed for the rich kid; apparently deep in thought, he didn’t seem aware of Selina gravitating closer and closer to him until - WHACK - they collided. Slightly stumbling backwards due to the force of their impact, Selina felt a strong, protective hand gripping her elbow - rich boy was actually making sure she wouldn’t fall (a nice, if superfluous gesture, Selina registered.) The stacks of loose papers and pens Selina had stuffed into her backpack practically exploded all over the ground. Rich boy took a closer look at her although not to see who he was going to yell at, as Selina expected him to, but to determine if she was okay. She must have looked alright to him, as he quickly withdrew his hand from her elbow, shot her a apologetic look and then went on to kneel down to gather her belongings...

Selina quickly dropped to her knees as well, grabbing for the useless notes and pencils scattered everywhere, making sure to keep up appearances.

Rich boy handed her a stack of papers, an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going - did you just steal my wallet right now?”

The befuddled look on his face would have been amusing to Selina if this didn’t mean that she had been caught red-handed.

Before she could make a run for it, rich boy’s hand wrapped itself around her wrist - his grip this time a lot firmer than before.

“Give it back,” rich boy said - no, ordered; it wasn’t that Selina was surprised to find out that rich boy knew how to boss people around, but the authoritative tone in his voice, coupled with that steely look in his gray-blue eyes… it was a little unsettling.

But not enough to have Selina lose her composure; with a nonchalant shrug, she handed over rich boy’s wallet - it was then that she noticed the letters B and W that were engraved in the fine leather and something heavy settled in her chest.

And yet, that still didn’t keep her from getting her claws out instead of keeping her mouth shut:

“It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

Rich boy countered her provocative glare with an intensity she hadn’t been prepared for - it started off as a stern warning, but then turned into something more calculating, scrutinizing; she could feel his blue eyes scan every inch of her, taking note of her threadbare jacket and scuffed shoes.

As suddenly as it had come about, their staring contest ended.

“You’re right,” rich boy agreed calmly, opening his wallet to take out the bills inside - from what Selina could see, she would have assumed them to amount to about $500.

“I’d rather keep my wallet though - it’s a birthday gift,” rich boy told Selina sedately before holding the cash out, for her to take.

Selina just gave him a bewildered look. He was certainly the weirdest person she’d ever met. And his offer may be tempting, but she still had her pride:

“I don’t accept handouts,” she said simply, crossing her arms demonstratively.

Now it was rich boy’s turn to be perplexed.

“You would have just snagged it if I hadn’t noticed in time - but when I give it to you freely, you won’t take it?”

“I’m not just some charity case you can throw your money at, just so that you can feel like the great benefactor,” Selina replied disdainfully, “I’m not interested in money I haven’t earned.”

Rich boy seemed to consider her response earnestly. After a short moment of contemplation, he finally put his money back into his wallet and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

“Fair enough.”

Selina arched an eyebrow. She really couldn’t figure this guy out.

He gave her a shrug, “Well, don’t let me keep you from work.”

His sorry attempt at humor couldn’t conceal the disapproval embedded in his words.

Selina knew that there was no reason at all why she should care about some entitled rich kid’s opinion of her, but something about this guy just rubbed her the wrong way:

“Listen, Mr. High-And-Mighty: what I do is not so different from what all of these -” she gestured at the financial sharks roaming the plaza - “are doing here; at least I steal from the ones that can afford it.”

Rich boy put up his hands in a defensive gesture.

“I didn’t mean to be condescending and I’m not denying that you have a point about unethical business practices being a profound issue, especially in this city…”

He paused for a moment, then, an amused expression made its way unto his face:

“I guess I just don’t know what you say to a pickpocket when they decide to get back to “work”; - Break a leg?”

Selina raised an eyebrow again.

“Does this look like a theater performance to you?”

Rich boy only shrugged, a hint of a smile on his lips, before giving it another try: “Good luck?”

Now Selina was truly offended.

“I don’t need luck; I’m very good at what I do.”

He stared at her, quirking an eyebrow.

“You just got caught in the act,“ he pointed out incredulously.

Selina shrugged it off: “An outlier; doesn’t count.”

This time, a full-on smile played on his lips, “Oh, that’s how it is?”

Selina couldn’t help the pouty tone seep into her voice as she defended herself:

“People don’t just offer to help someone that ran into them! Your stupid niceness ruined my plan.”

“What was I supposed to be doing?” rich boy asked, his tone of voice indicating that he was both amused and curious.

Selina couldn’t believe that anyone could be that clueless, but she still decided to spell it out for him: “Yell at me that I should look where I’m going - add in a couple of insults and you are golden.”

“Even if I was the one who didn’t pay attention?”

Selina rolled her eyes.

“Of course.”

“Huh. I’ll keep that in mind for future reference, so as not to ruin your plan the next time around.”

Selina cocked her head to the side, the ghost of a grin on her face, “You really think I’m bold enough to attempt stealing from you again?”

Rich boy shrugged slightly, “You strike me as a very dauntless person,” he said quite matter-of-factly.

Selina smirked, taking a deliberate step forward, invading his personal space, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Rich boy appeared to be taken aback by her action, but he didn’t move away.

“It’s just an observation,” he said with a shrug, his voice wavering just the tiniest bit; but Selina knew that she was getting under his skin.

She tapped her chin in pretend thoughtfulness, her eyes glinting playfully.

“Hmh, there is an error in your reasoning, though.”

Rich boy knitted his brows, “What erro-”

But before he could finish his question, Selina cut him off by drawing him in for a kiss. She must have startled him for good, because it took rich boy a few seconds until hes started to respond to her lips.

Before he got too comfortable, Selina broke off the kiss, a wicked grin now adorning her face.

“You assumed I’d use the same trick twice.”

“Wha-”

His eyes flew to his coat pocket his hand fumbling for the fanciful engraved wallet. When rich boy finally managed to pry it out, a puzzled look appeared on his face.

“I still have my -”

When he looked up, Selina had already disappeared into the crowd.

“...wallet.”

His eyes scanned the plaza, searching for that mysterious, brazen girl who had just tried stealing from, and had ended up kissing him right here in public - but he couldn’t find her anywhere. With a curious feeling, he opened his wallet - to find that all the bills had been taken out.

Bruce couldn’t help the amused smile growing on his face, as he pocketed the wallet Alfred had given him for his eighteenth birthday.

“Hmh. Bold indeed.”

To be continued... here.

#batcat #batcat fanfiction #bruce wayne #selina kyle #my fics: the taste of something stolen #I write sometimes #I know I should be updating Partners like yesterday #but this was sitting in my drafts already 90 percent done #and I wanted to post some of my writing around the holidays

[itshummelswitch]

KLAINE | Numb.

WHEN: May 5th, 2020

WHERE: Riley Hummel’s house, back room.

WHO: Kurt Hummel & Blaine Anderson.

EVENT: After the news of fellow submissive’s death, Blaine needs to feel safe.

TRIGGERS: Mentions of death & self-harm.

Blaine was quiet as he arrived at Riley's and greeted the two of them. He followed Kurt willingly to the room that Blaine was starting to view as his, which was odd. He made sure to wear comfortable clothes, sweat pants and a over sized sweat shirt. He hadn't gelled his hair in two days and the curls were everywhere, but Blaine couldn't bring himself to care. He had hardly slept since the news broke. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Corey and Rochelle's faces. His heart ached and it felt as if something was..missing. It didn't seem real, just as if Blaine was walking through a dream. He stayed quiet for a while not even saying much to Kurt. Being in his presence was nearly enough to make Blaine feel at ease. He kept the sweats on as he climbed into the big comfy bed, snuggling under the covers and sighing at the warmth. Blaine waited for Kurt to join him, not sure if he wanted to talk to the switch about what happened or if he just wanted to relax in his arms. "So...how was your day?" Blaine decided to break the silence with an awkward bit of small talk. 

Kurt had allowed Blaine his silence. It wasn't about him. It wasn't about anything past needing someone. To not be alone. Make sure Blaine was grounded, and safe. That's all he could do. He couldn't erase the pain, no matter how badly he wanted to. Anything to see his Blaine smile again. After leaving Riley in the hallway, whispered words between them, longing touches, and Kurt was closing the door to his and Blaine's room for the night, and keeping them locked in with the world being kept out. It was the least he could do. Allowing Blaine to get comfortable as he removes his shoes, and allowing his pants to come off next at least. Wasn't as if he was indecent beneath in the black boxer briefs. And Blaine had seen him in far less anyway. But the hoodie he had borrowed from his brother remained on. This wasn't about that. Climbing under the covers, he scoots in closer, silently welcoming Blaine to press in if he wanted to. "My day was uneventful." Comes the sigh, humoring the small talk. "I can only watch Project Runway so many times before I have the need to sharpen my teeth on a piece of fabric." He tilts his head, smirking a bit, running his hand up to smooth over the others soft curls, twirling a few around his finger.

Blaine leaned into Kurt’s touch as his fingers moved through Blaine’s hair. He hummed softly for a moment letting his eyes close. “Mmm. I’m sorry it was uneventful.” He replied, his voice soft. “I’m sure tomorrow will be better.” There was hardly any emotion in his voice mostly because Blaine couldn’t feel anything in that moment. He didn’t want to have normal conversation but he also didn’t want to talk about what happened. Blaine settles in a little close and rested his head in Kurt’s chest. It just ached and he didn’t know how to express it. “Who is your favorite designer on Project Runway?” More avoiding the topic and more small talk.

Having to stop the wince as he holds his arm out of the way, playing it off as letting the submissive get more comfortable in any position he wants before returning his fingers through the soft curls. The gel was absent, yes, but it still felt and smelled like Blaine, which brought some comfort. "Chloe Dao. She didn't do as many ruffles, and held a sophisticated look compared to anyone else." He answers easily, head tilting down to press a kiss against the other boy's forehead. Any sign of affection he could muster. "Have you watched any of the seasons? Because I could go on for days about how bland Leanne was."

Blaine could have fallen asleep like this. In fact, this was his idealistic situation. He and Kurt were in each other’s embrace in bed talking about mundane things. But every time he tried to drift off, there were the faces of Corey and Rochelle. He jerked awake after half dozing off and looked up at Kurt apologetically. “What?” It took him a few seconds to remember what the question was before he started to drift off. Project Runway. “Oh. Uhm, I think I watched part of one once but not enough to remember it all.” He muttered and turn more on his side so he could wrap his arms around Kurt. “You smell nice...Mmm love...it.”  and he mumbled the last bit as he buried his face into Kurt’s chest, so the final word came out in distinguishable.

Having the other jerk against him has Kurt biting back a question he knew the answer to. Blaine was exhausted. He clearly hasn't been sleeping, and he needed to. But having no idea how to encourage that, he can't help but lie there, gently playing with the soft curls as his way of distraction. Soothing the submissive as best as he can. That's all he could do. And it was driving him up a wall. He hated feeling so helpless. Another wince as Blaine presses in closer, and having to adjust his arm again. "I smell nice?" He can't help but to let out a small chuckle. "Thank you. I always inspired to smell nice, which is probably why I take such good care of my hygiene. Obsess over it really." Kurt rambles, pressing another kiss to Blaine's head with a hum. "When was the last time you bathed, Sweetheart? Do I need to give you one?"

Blaine smiled a little as he continued to nuzzle into Kurt's chest, squeezing him tighter as he did. "You smell like Kurt." He commented, smiling further as he felt the kiss on his head. Kurt was such a calming presence for him, he wanted to selfishly keep him around all the time. After another minute Blaine pulled back and rolled over to look up at Kurt. "I mean..I showered this morning..I just didn't put gel in." He said. "But uhm...I wouldn't say no to a bath. Especially if you were to help me." There was a tiny quirk of a smile on his lips. "Can never be too clean...right?"

Having his personal space kind of being given back, Kurt takes advantage of gently resting his bandaged arm across his chest as his other hand continues with the toying of Blaine's hair. He didn't know why, but it felt as if he stopped now, the submissive would slip away. He didn't want that. He wanted to be close. It had been too long since they had alone time together like this, and he only wished it wasn't under such circumstances. Casually smirking, dropping his head back against the pillow at the subtle flirting. That felt nice. Almost as if they were back to normal. Though he knew better then to get his arm wet, the idea of being intimate with this man was tugging at him. Crap. His arm. "Definitely can't be too clean." He agrees, lifting his head once more, pressing a soft kiss to Blaine's lips, humming under his breath. "Maybe a sponge bath, so I have an excuse to touch you all over, but not touch your hair."

Blaine sighed, content with Kurt playing with his hair. He normally hated his hair curly like this, so out of control. But Kurt seemed to like it, so Blaine didn't mind doing it for him. He looked more like Everett this way, just no beard. Too scratchy and itchy, he hated having a beard. Blane can't help but smile broadly at Kurt after the kiss. Those kisses always left Blaine floating and smiling beyond control. Blaine quickly moved away from Kurt to sit up fully and actually managed a kneeling position on the mattress. Although Blaine had to do his best to not roll forward on the mattress and on top of Kurt. "You don't need an excuse to do that." Blaine replied with knowing grin. He stared at Kurt getting more eager for Kurt to touch him. Blaine wanted a distraction right now more than anything, and a sponge bath from Kurt screamed distraction. "Come on!" Blaine got out of his kneeling position on the bed, and once his feet were planted on the ground, Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt arm to tug him toward the bathroom. "You can't tease me with a sponge bath and just lay there."

As Blaine pulls away from him, he carefully shifts his arm behind his head, watching the submissive get eager. That was definitely a nice look. It just reminded him why he loved liked Blaine and considered him his submissive. Besides the obvious adorable overall aesthetic and just being a joy to be around, the knowledge that this boy wanted him and was eager for him of all people gave him a sense of pride. Or was that arousal? He couldn't tell. It was confusing. Having his wounded arm then tugged, it wasn't expected. A shock of pain slipped through his entire left side and he can't help but to hiss, wriggling out of Blaine's hold. He hopes he covers it up, the wince be damned, with a laugh. And not a nervous one either. No sir. "Of course, Sweetheart. Bathroom first. Let's take advantage of that big bath."

Blaine tugged playfully on Kurt’s arm trying to get him to the bathroom before this feeling lightness and brief forgetfulness wore off. But it left just as quick as it came on because if he wasn’t mistaken he hurt Kurt. Blaine released the switch’s arm and took a few steps back, his hands balled up against his chest. “I’m sorry!” He apologized, almost out of fear. “I didn’t mean to.” Blaine hadnt meant to hurt him. He wasn’t even aware that he was tugging that hard. And even though Kurt was laughing, or what was supposed to be a laugh, Blaine caught hiss off pain and recoil. He stared back at Kurt with large eyes full of remorse. “I’m sorry, sir.” He winced himself at the use of that term with Kurt. “Kurt...I mean Kurt. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” He kept repeating.

Immediate regret crosses over Kurt's face as Blaine starts to blame himself. Fuck. He wanted to avoid that, and ended up doing it anyway. Going into damage control mode, he pushes himself to stand, injured arm pressed close against his chest as he reaches for Blaine with his other hand. "No, no, no - Sweetheart, shh. You didn't do it. I promise." Closing the distance, he curls his fingers behind the submissive's neck, needing their foreheads to touch. Hoping to ground him again. "Deep breath, Blaine. You didn't do anything, okay?" Rolling the sleeve of the hoodie back, he shows off the bandaging. "See? You didn't do it, baby, I promise."

Blaine’s breathing picked up as Kurt got out of bed and moved him, he took a step back but Kurt’s hand was on the back of him neck he slammed his eyes shut. Oh god, he never meant to hurt Kurt, never. When their foreheads met Blaine gasped trying to get his breathing under control. He kept his hand balled up and against his chest and as far from touching Kurt as possible. But was trying to soothe him and tell him he had done it. And Blaine wanted to listen because he would never hurt Kurt in any way, that wasn’t consensual of course. Blaine let his breathing start to regulate again before he opened his eyes and found himself staring at Kurt’s bandages arm. And like flipping a switch the panic and fear for himself turned to panic and concern for Kurt. “Kurt!” Blaine reached out and gingerly examines Kurt’s arm. “Your arm...what happened? Who did this? Are you alright?”

And there it was. The pity. The concern. Kurt can't help but to sigh, allowing Blaine to examine him. Not that there was much to look at, as his entire forearm was wrapped securely in an ace bandage. As Riley had changed it earlier, he was safe to not need another changing - so long as he didn't get it wet. "I did it to myself by being careless, Sweetheart. I'm fine. Just needed a few stitches and have to wear this for a few weeks - I'm fine." He twists his lips to the side, offering a helpless shrug. "Riley and I got into a very heavy conversation, and I slammed my hand and arm into a mirror. Glass was involved. I was taken care of by the hospital staff, and was kept overnight as I needed a blood transfusion after I lost a good amount. I'll have a nasty scar, probably, but still fine. Okay?"

Blaine's brow creased with worry. Kurt was hurt and hearing that he had to have stitches made his stomach drop. "Kurt.." He muttered. "You're beautiful skin." He looked up at Kurt and reached out to touch his face. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that breaking a mirror will bring 7 years bad luck?" He sighed and brought his attention back to the bandaged arm. "A blood transfusion?" Blaine felt sick to his stomach thinking about Kurt and blood everywhere. "What kind of conversation were your two having that got so heated you needed to destroy a mirror?"

Seeing Blaine so concerned for him has Kurt's heart aching. Maybe even feeling the spiral starting. He couldn't do this. He hated seeing Blaine have that look on his face because of him. He was so bad at this. He hadn't fully healed, and he wasn't entirely mentally able to go into a Dominant headspace. So he could only do this as Kurt. "Blaine," he squeezes the others hand, "it doesn't matter what kind of conversation we were having. I'm fine. It got taken care of." Gently cupping Blaine's face, his thumbs caressing the others face. "If I get seven years bad luck, does that mean you won't want to be involved with me for seven years? Or will you ride it out the whole way?"

Blaine leaned into Kurt’s touch, not letting go of his injured arm but being very gentle with it. He sighed softly and let his eyes flutter close just a moment at Kurt’s thumbs on his face. His touch was always so calming. “That doesn’t really reassure me, Kurt.” He said as his eyes opened and fell in Kurt’s face once more. “Any conversation that led you to hit a mirror and hurt yourself like this,” he frowned slightly, “couldn’t have been a good one.” He didn’t like that Kurt was deflecting and avoiding or outright refusing the question. “What? No. I..I’m going to be here for all of it. No matter what.” The longer he stood here with Kurt talking so casually like this, nothing but raw emotion, made Blaine’s heart hurt. He couldn’t be in a relationship with Kurt, not the way he wanted. He was a sub, and Kurt was his acting Dom. That was it. “You can’t exactly get that wet, maybe I should just bathe..and I come out after?”

God, he hated feeling this helpless. As if he had done something wrong and not knowing what. His hand of his injured arm flexes, sending a throbbing reminder up to his shoulder. Right. "It wasn't a positive one, but it wasn't anything out of anger or anything. I didn't know where to channel my emotions properly because of the...topic. And ended up hurting myself." After a pause, deflating some, he glances towards the area where the guest bathroom was. He wants to stand firm in that he could still accompany Blaine into the bathroom. Even if it meant he couldn't go near the water - at least he'd be there. In the same shared space. But something holds him back. Whatever it is, it hurts. "If that's what you want to do, Sweetheart." Using his good hand to smooth down over Blaine's chest, and pulls away to grant his personal space again. "I'll be in here. Waiting for you."

Blaine didn’t want to bathe on his own and had been looking forward to Kurt touching him in such an intimate way. He tried not to look Kurt in the eyes and the other pulled away from him. Blaine’s chest is tight but he nodded and stepped around Kurt to the bathroom. He closed the door gently behind him and pressed his back against it. Blaine was having a hard time with this D/s relationship first romance second. In the beginning, Blaine could manage it well enough but then his feelings began to grow more and more each time he saw Kurt. Each time they had a conversation. And it impossible to put the D/s aspect of their relationship above how he felt for Kurt. And seeing him hurt like this tore at Blaine’s heart. After a minute or so of standing there, he walked over to the tub and started to draw the bath, sitting on the edge as the tub steadily filled with water.  He got undressed and when the water was at the right height he sank into it, humming softly as the temperature was just exactly right. Blaine leaned back and stared at the ceiling as he lazily cleaned himself with one of the soft wash cloths, absently thinking and imagining scenarios where he and Kurt met off the island. He imagined the things they’d do together, the places Blaine would take Kurt. His favorite spots. But this only caused Blaine to sink further. He sighed and submerged himself under water for a few seconds in an attempt to clear his head. When he resurfaced, Blaine pushes his wet curls out of his face and leaned back against the tub and stared at the ceiling, losing track of time. It was about forty five minutes later when the water had become too cold to stand, that Blaine pushed himself up and out of the tub. He took a towel and dried himself before wrapping it around his waist and took another one and ran it through his hair. Blaine opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out, only a towel around his waist and one he was holding. “Sorry that took so long.” He muttered.

Once he was left alone, Kurt tilts his head back while working his jaw. Why the hell did he feel like crying over this? It was just his stupid arm. It wasn't Blaine's fault he had been stupid and did this to himself. Maybe it was the medication fucking with his brain that had him feeling like this. Like such a failure. Like he wasn't doing right by Blaine at all. All of this was for naught, right? Blaine deserved the best, top shelf Dominant, and he clearly wasn't that. Pull yourself together, Hummel. Don't spiral when Blaine needs you. After checking in with Riley for ten minutes, he climbs back into bed and settled against the headboard where he just ended up staring blankly at the opposite wall. Arms folded over his chest, ever so slightly dissociating as his mind went back and forth on different things. Blaine, how bad the scar would be, Blaine, going over what would've happened if he had done this without Riley there - would Sylvester have interfered with that? Stop it. Blaine returning from the bathroom, a light steam filtering out and making the air around them feel clean. His head tilting towards the other, feeling his mouth go dry as he takes the image of Blaine standing there. In just a towel. He could feel a twitch of interest at the sight, but he opts to ignore it. Even his face goes a little warm, and he clears his throat. "No need to be sorry, Sweetheart. Do you feel a little better?"

Blaine ran the other towel through his hair once more making sure to get as much water from it as possible. He smirked a little noticing the subtle change in Kurt’s expression as his eyes fell on Blaine. He walked over, towel low on his hip bones and opened the bag he often brought whether he was staying the night or not. He reached in and pulled out a dress pair of underwear. He dropped the towel and quickly put the underwear on, sneaking a glance at Kurt while he did so. He folded the damp towels and went to place them in the hamper in the bathroom. He loved teasing Kurt in anyway he could. He couldn’t help it. As he came back, Blaine sat on the edge of the bed. “I do.” He finally replied. “It was nice to clear my head. The bathrooms are nicer than the ones in our apartment. And Riley has a bunch of nice bath salts too.” He pauses for a few moments. “Thank you for being there for me, Kurt. I mean it.”

Kurt couldn't help himself but to stare as Blaine let the towel dropped. It was one of the best assets that Blaine had - his ass. It always drew Kurt's eyeline, among others when they were out. He could feel the interest growing and he had to take a controlled breath. Not, now. Not now. Not now. Adjusting the covers over his lap, he covers his arousal with a flash of a grin. Something that's a little nervous, maybe with a hint of force, but definitely genuine underneath all of that. "Of course. I'll always be here for you. For as long as you want me, that is." Reaching for Blaine, he tries to get him back on the bed, because there was too much space. And his non-Dominant headspace was demanding physical contact. He wanted to hold this man. Kiss him. Love him. Fuck. "May I kiss you?"

Blaine smirked a little and climbed onto the bed scooting himself next to Kurt, resting in his knees. Kurt was so beautiful and everything Blaine could want in a partner. Trouble was, they weren’t partners, they weren’t boyfriends. It was hard to tell what they were, especially in times like this. He ignored the nagging in his head and leaned in, “You never have ask with me.” Blaine gave Kurt a peck on the lips. He sat back staring almost transfixed in Kurt. He swung his leg over to straddle Kurt on the bed. Blaine grinned and leaned in once more, capturing Kurt’s lips with his in a deep kiss. All the while just thinking of how much he loved the man beneath him in bed.

A peck. Definitely not what Kurt was wanting, let alone expecting. It was almost comical how his stomach dropped further into his body at it. That was it? He wanted a kiss. An actual kiss. Something to draw himself and Blaine close again. To reconnect. Remind him what it felt like. How it tasted. How Blaine tasted. This wasn't right. This was all wrong. He needed Blaine. He — his inner monologue being cut short as he finds himself straddled. Oh. That's much better. Lips finding Blaine's as they fit together again, eyes falling shut. Leaning into it. Breathing this man in. This. This was what kissing was. Why it was invented. Perhaps even invented by both of them in this moment, all over again. His hands reaching out to gently rest against the other man's hips, pulling him closer. Not even caring if it was obvious he wasn't exactly soft under the covers and layers. Because he needed this. Needed Blaine. As much of him as he could get, until his breath was being stolen from his lungs and he had to break away just long enough to do it all over again. Who needed air when there was kissing this man to be had? A man who made his heart ache and throb at the same time against his rib cage. A man he cared for. Adored. Loved. ...Loved?

Blaine has spent the day feeling completely numb and in disbelief that his friend were gone. He hurt for a while but then a feeling of absolutely nothing washed over him. Being here with Kurt have him feeling again. Not just the obvious arousal that he now dragged slowly across Kurt with a determined roll of his hips, but inside Blaine felt passion as their lips worked eagerly together. As Kurt broke away from his lips Blaine smile and moved onto kissing down the other man’s jaw. Kurt made him happy and made him feel everything all at once. It was overwhelming and addictive. “Kurt..” he mumbled taking just a moment to stop kissing the others neck. Kurt was pinned beneath him in the bed and Blaine moaned quietly as he dragged himself deliberately against Kurt again. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, his lips over the shell of Kurt’s ear. “I..” the last two words died on his lips along with the brief confidence he felt as he almost said those three words to him. No. No, that’s not what came first here. It was the D/s relationship, nothing personal. Besides, Kurt didn’t possibly think of him in the same way. It was all the D/s dynamic.

#[ baby penguin para ] #[ ship | oh there you are ]

[accendimi]

We Were The Champions {Greenies}

Alternatively Titled:  What The Fuck is a Pukwudgie??

The second time Sarina and Mike wake up after dreaming about being in love with one another. This time however Sarina is bumming at his house since the demon sold off her home.

Triggers: None

Takes place after the Harry Potter Dream.

@wazowskiofthemikevariety

SARINA 

Waking up from a Swynlake dream was always interesting. The time her and Mike died she had shot up gasping for air ripping at her clothes to get that breath of fresh air. 

Waking up from the dream about being wizards sarina sat up looking at her hands confused. She could remember all these different spells. She felt vulnerable. She felt like she was splayed open for the world to see.

Looking around the room for a moment Sarina imagined she was home from school. In an unfamiliar room. One she barely spent time in except for holidays from Ilvermorny. But then she remembered she was not 17. She couldn't practice magic and while she wasn't in a room familiar to her it was because she technically didn't have a home and she was couch hopping between Djali and Mike. 

Sarina was a capable woman who really deserved more sleep after a dream like that. At least until she could tell Mike was awake too and damage control was probably needed. So still in her so still in her sleeping shorts and a shirt she stole from either Mike or Djali. Maybe even Desoto she yawned and made her way to Mike's room.

"How much are you freaking out?" Sarina questioned gently as she leaned against his door frame.

MIKE 

Waking up from a dream that wasn’t exactly, what?, normal was not new for Mike Wazowski. He was used to it. His brain worked in mysterious ways to make sure that some nights he woke up with a racing heart and sweat coating his skin. Other nights he woke up with a jolt, with something on the tip of his tongue, but nothing to show for it besides the adrenaline still kicking through his system. The last time he had been a participant in a town wide dream he hadn’t known it because a dream about dying in one of the world’s most known disasters? Not that far fetched for him. 

So this time it was no different. He bolted up in his bed, one hand clutching at his chest as if to keep his heart from leaping out of it, and looked around the room. Then he had to look around again because he went to fast the first time so nothing really registered, but that time around he understood that he was okay. He was in his own bedroom, in his own body. His very old, very 28, almost 29, year old body. 

He stood up then, stumbling as his sheet stayed twisted around his ankle so he had to kick it off before he got carpet burn from falling face first onto the floor. And then he began to pace as his sleep addled mind woke up. Mike yelled at the sound of Sarina’s voice cutting through his thoughts, about her actually, and whirled around to find her standing at his door. 

Mike made a face as he made dismissive little sounds with his mouth. He moved his hands self consciously, carding through his hair, trying to rest by his side, nope that wasn’t going to work, what now, okay they were just going to be crossed over his middle. “What? Me? Freaking-? I’m not freaking out! ...why would I be freaking out?” 

And then he stopped, two dots connecting. “Oh. Oh god was this...was this like the whole Titanic town wide shared dream thing again?” 

SARINA 

Sarina wasn’t surprised when Mike yelled out, she barely flinched even as she lay her head against the door frame looking like she was almost ready to curl into that and fall asleep then and there. She just had to let Mike work through whatever freakout he was working through.

Eventually, he always got there.

“I suspect so. Normally I don’t dream about everyone in town.” Sarina mumbled pushing off the door frame and walking into his room dropping herself onto his bed and grabbing a pillow to curl into.

Unlike the last time with the titanic dream, Mike had seen her vulnerable over and over. And while she hated that she had cried in front of him and well was apparently falling for him. She wasn’t going to be mean and get herself kicked out. Djali’s was too far at this time of the day.

“So still freaking out?” Sarina mumbled into his pillow.

MIKE 

He let out a breath, because somehow the dream having been a town wide thing comforted. It probably had something to do with it not being his brain that had concocted that whole elaborate world and that he hadn’t been the only one exposed to it. Then it settled in that, 1. Sarina had been there, too. and 2. if she had been there then- 

“Oh god,” he whined, covering his face with both of his hands. He scrubbed them over his skin, pulling down until they only covered his mouth. Mike looked at her with apologetic eyes and took a half step backwards. 

Side note, had he not been so caught up with the whole he had pined for her for years and then she kissed him and then they went to that dance together and it was looking like the set up for a happily ever after thing, then he would have been caught up in the fact that she was in his bed room. On his bed. That would probably come later. 

“I am so sorry,” Mike said, ducking his head in shame and embarrassment. “I was such a little shit, oh my god.”   

SARINA 

Sarina closed her eyes and really she kind of ignored how much he was freaking out. To her this wasn’t a big deal she was learning that Swynlake was weird and it wasn’t worth putting her energy into worrying about it. She was however starting to wonder why it kept putting her and Mike together.

He couldn’t handle her. Not that she wanted to be handled.

“Why are you apologizing? Because you were funny? I dunno it didn’t bother me.”  Sarina stated yawning again looking up at him trying to figure out how he was going to react to all of this. He could just take a breath and sit down.

MIKE 

“Funny,” he scoffed. He looked up at her, face scrunched up in confusion and slight distaste. Not for her, but for himself. His idiotic, 17 year old self who really fit the portrayal of boys will be boys when people laughed off a kid bullying another just because he didn’t know how to express his feelings properly. 

Feelings. Christ. He’d had feelings for her. Bright and consuming feelings that had all been exposed within the time frame of the dream. Then again she had returned them, been the first on to act on them but…but he wasn’t going to dwell on that. Because unlike this dream, and the one before, there was no amount of magic that could possibly make her fall for him. This was the real world, after all.

“I’m apologizing because I acted like an idiot, and for…” he hesitated, unable to speak the words aloud. Instead he clapped his hands together and wiggled them a little, hoping she would understand, “…you know.” 

SARINA

Sarina rolled her eyes at the face he made before closing her eyes and burrowing her head further into the pillow. 

Whatever Mike was apologizing for didnt bother her. She hadnt minded any of his teenager-ness. Just like she hoped he hadn't minded her dramatics. 

"I dont think I do know." Sarina stated simply though she could imagine he was getting at maybe whatever they were in this dream. 

"We acted like teenagers in the dream because we were teenagers. I cried. When I thought you rejected me and you were just as awkward as you normally are. I wouldn't say there's anything to apologize for."

MIKE 

He sighed, exasperated, because he knew that she knew what he was meant, and he went to call her out on it, his hands still pressed together and wiggling. Then he forgot that completely after she said, You were just as awkward as you normally are.

Mike groaned again in embarrassment, a warm blush working a path up from his neck to his face. Well wasn’t that just great! So even though he had been more than a decade younger in the dream he had still acted the same way. Still awkward, still stupid. Great. That’s was absolutely fantastic to be hearing from a friend who had been on the verge of something more than that in a dream. Mike decided he wanted to crawl back under his blankets and sleep for the rest of eternity, thanks. 

“Either way, I’m sorry about me. And for...crossing any boundaries,” he winced, unable to look at her as his thoughts drifted towards the latter half of their relationship within the dream. That would hopefully pass soon. It was too new right now, everything having been freshly seared into his brain from having just woken up. 

SARINA

Sarina pushed herself into a sitting position pointing at his bed right in front of her. “Sit Wazowski.” Apparently that wasn’t a habit that she had been able to wipe away just yet but to be honest Sarina quite liked it. It might have seemed impersonal but in that dream it was her own personal nickname for him.

When he had finally settled at least somewhat on the bed Sarina looked at him straight on. “No boundaries were crossed. In the dream I wanted to kiss you as much as dream you wanted to kiss me.” But she made sure to make sure she stated it was dream him. She had done a few things without his consent when she was possessed and there was no way for her to ever make up for that.

“Look we’re good right? If we’re good then there’s no reason to freak out or worry about that.”

MIKE 

Sarina told him to sit. He hesitated, feeling too jittery to be able to do so, but the tone of her voice had him crawling back onto the mattress to settle down criss-cross on the corner. His fingers wrapped into the bottom of his pajama pants, twisting the fabric, picking at the string, just to give them something to do and to have something for his eyes to focus on that wasn’t her. 

If he picked his head up and looked at her then he would see that they were both sitting on his bed. Together. In his room. Mike glanced around, surveying the place. It wasn’t messy, thank goodness, he’d been too paranoid at the thought of her staying over to allow anywhere in his house to be messy. Even in here, where he thought she would never wind up. God, that sounded weird, anywaysanyways.

It also didn’t help his state to hear her say everything so casually. Although, he didn’t know why he expected anything more. Why would it have meant anything to her? Why would it have to make things weird? It was just a dream, and in the real world woman like her did not fall for idiots like him. 

“Okay,” he said quietly. Mike dared to look up at her and there she was. Sarina. Just Sarina. One corner of his mouth pull upwards in a lopsided smile. “If you’re good then I’m good.” A beat. “Or, I will be, anyways. After all that fades quietly into the dark recesses of my mind.” 

SARINA

When Mike finally looked up at her Sarina offered him a smile her eyes looking at his stupid lopsided one. He looked like he was slowly relaxing and that was important to her. Reaching out Sarina was going to take his hand away from where he was fidgeting but honestly she still didn’t feel like she could touch him. She didn’t have any right.

Letting out a sigh Sarina set her hand back into her lap. “I’m still waiting for the whole demon mess to fade into the dark recesses of people’s minds. I’ll take that first before forgetting Harry Potter.” Sarina admitted softly.

MIKE 

That made his stomach tighten, all thoughts about himself and his own insecurities have been successfully tossed aside, for now. Everything in him turned his focus on to her, onto the idea of trying to provide some sort of comfort to her and her experience with a Demon having taken over her body and done all sorts of wild shit. Selling her house, talking to her friends, pretending to be her while planning on getting out of dodge. .

“God, I’m so sorry,” he said, scrubbing a hand at his jaw, the roughness of his unshaven cheek brushing at the skin of his fingers. “Here I am complaining about something in some stupid dream when you had that whole...” 

He sighed, shaking his head, not wanting to finish the sentence for fear of saying the wrong thing. Mike, being who he was, having studied what he did, sitting in a room surrounded with books on the very subject, didn’t know if what would come out of his mouth would be the right thing as her friend as opposed to the Demonologist. 

“But, you have to remember that wasn’t you,” he tried anyways, as silence felt heavier to him than his lack of tact. “That was the Demon. You can’t hold yourself responsible for actions that you didn’t even have control over.” 

SARINA

Sarina shook her head smiling up at him, “I didn’t say it to get any pity or have you switch topics. You’re more than allowed to complain.” Sarina stated inching closer to Mike before flopping down beside him her head just brushing against his leg, looking up to the ceiling Sarina glanced over at him. She wanted him to join her but she didn’t know how to ask right now. 

“I don’t see anything wrong with Harry Potter dream if I’m being honest.” Sarina explained tilting her head toward him she hadn’t minded kissing him if she was honest. Harry Potter after all was easier to focus on and not all the different thing Jelly had done while she was in her body. The people she had slept with. The people who had seen her. There was a lot of things wrong with her demon experience.

MIKE 

It was then that the fog of sleep had officially lifted, the contact having startled him into full clarity. Thinking she wanted to lay down and not have the guy who had been a total tool within the dream they had just woken up from, he scooted himself back to give her more room. 

Mike turned his head, taking a point to look at his book case rather than her. Because she was in his bed, where he had just been sleeping. The sheets were probably still warm and, fuck, he was being weird. He was going to make this weird because that’s what he did, he was incapable of letting things sit, untouched. 

Fortunately, Sarina spoke before he could open his big, stupid mouth to say something about it. About the shirt he only just noticed that she was wearing that looked familiar or the way she seemed perfectly comfortable laying on his bed, just like she seems to fit in his space like-

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed watching from the sidelines because I’m pretty sure I’m never going to get the smell of burnt hair out of my mind for the next few days,” he said before he could finish his former thoughts. “But, I guess you’re right. You didn’t die this time.”

SARINA

Sarina sighed pulling back herself because she could only imagine it was because of what she had done and said previously. Even if he said it was the demon and not her, Sarina didn’t remember everything she could easily have hurt him more than what she remembered. So she didn’t fight him pulling away and instead just stayed laying down in bed. 

“No I didn’t die this time. I suspect the longer I stay here the more likely I am to die in another dream though. So it’s just a matter of time.” Sarina mumbled cracking her neck before just looking up at the ceiling. 

“Does it help if I say your hair doesn’t look burned or smell burned in real life?”

MIKE 

He froze at the sound of her bones cracking, frowning deeply when he realized it had been her neck. With a shiver he shook that off, not knowing why people did that but not wanting to comment on it because the conversation was still on other, more important things. 

Mike didn’t know how to take that, because the Demon had been wanting to leave Swynlake. It’s why Sarina didn’t have a place of her own, they had sold off that big glorious house of hers. He had assumed she had wanted to stay, but maybe the dreams and the possession had her thinking about leaving, too. 

“Yes,” he sighed, patting a hand to his hair, knowing it probably looked a mess. That was fine, it just matched the rest of him. “But- but if there is another one of these things, I hope you don’t. 1 out of the 2 so far is enough.” 

Especially if he was also there, like he had been, he didn’t think he could handle another one. Which was selfish, considering, but he couldn’t help but think it anyways. 

SARINA 

Sarina smiled at that tilting her head to look up at him, it was a nice thought. Not wanting her to die again, preferably she didn’t want to die she liked living quite a lot. “I hope I don’t either. But I like being a realistic.” Sarina stated simply moving her hand to nudge Mike’s leg. “Don’t let it get you down. As long as it’s a dream I’ll be here after to annoy you again and again.” She teased trying to get him to smile at some rate. This conversation was way too serious and Sarina boiled that down to her being too tired to joke and mess around. “Even when I eventually get another place I’ll still be around to mess with you.”

She just needed to find a decent listing and she wasn’t going to waste money back in something in the Woods. She wanted something fancy enough in Southern Isles.

MIKE

She achieved her goal, because upon hearing that she still wanted to stick around, even if it was to annoy him, settled the worry that had been rattled loose. Mike had never had friends, not like this, not to the extent where they would stay over at his house or liked being in his company.

Because of that, he had also never lost a friend. And he didn’t know what that would do to him. There had been the threat when he had realized she had been possessed, during the exorcism, and that had felt heavy, like if it dropped everything would be crushed as a result. Lost in the rubble.

“Realistic,” he scoffed. “That’s the word you’re going to go with when you’re talking about dreams that have either, 1. put you in one of the worst disaster scenarios to ever happen in human history or 2. made you 17 again in a school where you were something called a Pukwudgie?”

SARINA 

Sarina laughed brightly at that sitting up so she could face him.”Yes what the fuck is a Pukwudgie? Like at least the other names kind of make sense. A horned serpent. A snake with a horn that can poison you.” Not that, that’s what it was but that was the thought that was in her mind when she thought about it.

“I’m just saying, I’ve done my research about this place and some crazy shit happens. Plus I like to think I can handle dying in one of those again.” Pausing for a second Sarina chewed on her lip. “Rather it be me then you guys.” 

MIKE

He smiled wider at the sound of her laugh, eyes focused on her face as she sat up, caught up in the warm feeling radiating from his chest from having been able to make her happy. If even for a brief moment. Mike nodded, making a face at the asperity of it all. And to think, for six years in that dream world he had been so dedicated to that name, had even gone as far as to enter his name into a deadly tournament partially out of the pride for that name.

When he had been thinking of moving to the town he had thought he had done some thorough research as well. But the only strange phenomena he had been able to really understand was what had happened when Mr. Pines, or well Mr. Pines’ previous instructor, had let loose a stage 5 Demon on the town. Other than that he couldn’t find anything besides people complaining about parking, but he was from California and didn’t have a car, sadly, so he didn’t think it would be such a problem.

Now, with a small zombie apocalypse that had left him in some room for a whole weekend alone, a dream about a historic disaster, and a dream about Harry Potter that had made him relive his teenage years, under his belt he didn’t know how much worse it could get from there.

“Don’t say that,” he said quickly, almost cutting her off as she finished. “I mean- I do appreciate the sentiment behind it, because wow, but I don’t think that’s the way to go either. No one should be dying in those things, the end, thank you. Plus! You are way too badass to die, the only reason you even did in the last one was because of me.”  

SARINA 

Sarina paused basically mid-sentence when Mike has interrupted her. She didn’t blame him in any regard, since when was dying a decent idea. It was something people liked to avoid. But Sarina liked to protect people and she didn’t like owing people. And yes while Sarina knew she didn’t owe Mike or Djali anything she wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for them so she would do anything to save them.

She would do nearly anything to protect the people she cared about. 

And she wasn’t ashamed about that which meant when she looked at Mike it was a soft smile that reached her eyes. Leaning over she placed her hand on his knee giving it a squeeze.

“I am too badass to die which means if I can stop you guys from dying then I won’t die myself.” Sarina stated simply not pulling back. “And Mike. I don’t regret anything I did in that dream. My freak out after, I’m assuming would lead you to assume I did. I don’t regret it. If I survived and you hadn’t….” Sarina trailed off. “In a dream or not, I will protect the people I care about.”

MIKE

His eyes shot downwards when she made contact with his knee. It was direct, with purpose, like she had meant to do it. A jolt went through him because he was sitting there in his pajamas, ie. shorts and a t-shirt, so she was touching his exposed skin and they were sitting on his bed after a dream where he had been pining after her for years.  He went to pull away, but he couldn’t work up the courage. Even now some part of him was screaming in the back of his mind, in this black space that he was only pushing back because Sarina was there, like a barrier, having stopped him before he could fall too far into it after waking up.

Then she squeezed and Mike was burning underneath it, and it was killing him, welling in him. All that blackness and everything was going to break over him like an ocean current. Pull him down so he couldn’t get back to the surface. Only he knew he wasn’t, and that she wasn’t using her magic, because he was looking right at it. Then, slowly, he managed to pick his head back up to meet her eyes and the smile that was waiting for him.

He was frozen for a long time, and Sarina was looking at him, but he couldn’t get the words to jump off of his tongue. They were tangled and twisted, wrapped so tightly in fear of knowing that if he let them go he would never get them back. And Sarina was looking at him.

He realized why, when she said that, why he liked being with her so much, why he could be in those dreams with her and wake up and see her and stop from falling. Why he still felt like he could go to the university and not feel like someone with a gun was going to show up every minute he was there. Why he could go to a deep dark cave with a Demon in it.

Because he felt safe. Safe like he never felt anywhere else.

“And I’m-?” he asked, gesturing at himself with frantic hands. “Are you sure?” 

SARINA 

Sarina was patient as thoughts flew through Mike’s mind. She could see it, she just wished she could read it. Maybe then she could know how to help. But as it was she could just give him time to work through the whirlwind of his mind.

And it was cute.

Honestly with her hand on his knee there was a part of her that wanted to lean forward. To set her hand on his cheek and kiss those thoughts away. She could remember what it was like to kiss him and while she seemed calm outside the more she thought about kissing him the more her heart raced.

But she couldn’t think like that. It wouldn’t be fair to him.

So she just nodded at his question. She cared about him. She always would. “I’m 100% sure Mike. Hell I’m sleeping in your house. Not only do I care about you. I trust you.” And in Sarina speak that was big.

MIKE

That stunned Mike, mostly because he hadn’t expected such a confession that sat in the air between them. He blinked, trying to get a grip around it but it was awkward, cumbersome, and he couldn’t keep it between his hands.

He broke then probably because he smiled, and let out a breath and leaned forwards to meet his hand that pinched the bridge of his nose when he felt the familiar sting of tears trying to get passed, making him squeeze his eyes shut briefly. He let out a little, “argh.” in annoyance with himself for embarrassing himself this much more in front of her. Mike sniffed, using the back of his hand to swipe under his nose, and then peered up at her.

“I know this probably doesn’t mean as much since I’m- well. I’m just some guy, but-” he glanced down, eyes catching on her hand again. Slowly, he reached forwards to place his own over hers, allowing it to ground him so he could get out the rest.

“But, the feeling is mutual. If you’re ever in trouble, or need anything, all you ever have to do is ask. I promise. Even if it’s something way above me, or whatever, I’ll be there. And it’s not because I don’t think you can take care of yourself, because I know you, it’s…” he shrugged, “All I’m saying is, you don’t have to do it alone.” 

SARINA 

Sarina let out a small laugh when he smiled, she didn’t mind that he was smiling. It just made the whole thing a lot lighter which was fine with her. This whole thing was too serious and charged with emotions. She would just say the feeling of wanting to kiss him came from that and only that.

It would fade over time.

And he was not allow to speak bad about himself so the ‘some guy’ comment made her reach up (with her free hand) to flick him in the forehead. “Did I not just get done telling you that you’re one of the people I care about. I think that makes you not just some guy.” Sarina corrected.

“But thank you.” Sarina nodded. “It’s nice having people on my side as well.” She didn’t think she would have that again after her parents were killed. After her brothers were useless and required her to save them over and over. She didn’t think she could rely on people and actually have it turn out well.

MIKE

“Hey!” he protested when she flicked him, leaning back. Mike looked at her, mouth fallen open in mock offense. He settled back as she thanked him, smiling again instead.

This was weird. But a good kind of weird. He didn’t know if there was a word that meant the opposite of loneliness, but he did know that whatever that feeling was, this was it. There was no obligation, no feeling that they had to be saying any of this, but they were. It was all out of want and that meant more to him than she could possible imagine. Someone wanting to talk to him as if it wasn’t a pain or something to endure.  

This was what he had had craved and chased after with a desperation ever since he was a kid, before he knew what Demons even were. And now he had it and he could give it in return. The trick was going to be trying to hold onto it.

“I meant some guy, as in I’m just a guy. As in I don’t have anything else to offer but what you see.” Which, to him, wasn’t a lot. “You’ve got your magic and cool super hero experience and clothing with concealed knives and me? I mean...all I’ve got are the cheat codes to The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time and shitty jokes.” 

SARINA

Sarina shook her head her hand still on his leg considering she hadnt pulled away and honestly she didnt really want to pull back either.

"Just a guy that was the one who figured out I was possessed by a demon and was the one that helped plan my rescue." Sarina stated giving him a look that dared him to disagree with her. He was much more than some guy.

"Just because my magic let's me do big things doesnt mean that small things arent good. Sometimes cheat codes for zelda thing are just what is required. Plus it's not like I can do this by myself. Different skill sets are needed."

MIKE 

Yeah. Right. Him, a so called Demonologist, hadn’t even realized his friend was possessed by the very thing he studies until someone else pointed out that they were acting weird. Had it not been for Djali that day, of what Mike liked to call The Hallway Incident™️, there was no telling what could have happened. 

Instead of this he could have been all alone in his room still thinking she hated him while the Demon was off gallivanting with her body in another part of the world. Or worse. 

And yet she wasn’t focusing on that. He eyed her, unsure as to why, when all his faults were right there to take digs at. But the look on her face told him he didn’t want to enter that argument, and it was too early, and she was being nice when she didn’t have to be. It wasn’t like he was fishing for compliments, despite how warm her words made his chest feel. He figured it was best not to push this for now.

“I doubt anyone still needs cheat codes for that game, it’s all about Breath of the Wild these days,” he sighed, his tone lighter as he hid away the insecurities as he had learned to do over the years. “But, yeah...I guess we do make a pretty good team.” 

SARINA

Yeah…. Sarina didnt know that game either. She knew of zelda that was popular enough but unless Breath of the Wild was another title of it she had no way of really figuring out what it was. Maybe she would have to Google it later. 

Instead Sarina pulled her hand back and collapsed back onto his bed patting the spot beside her. Hopefully he would lay down. 

"Good to hear it. I expect the same answer if it ever comes up again. Now I dont know about you but after one of these dream things I never feel quite so rested so I'm thinking I'm gonna crash again and you're more than welcomed to join." Sarina offered as if you know she wasnt in his bed and his house.

MIKE

He was smiling, feeling good and relieved that she had decided to keep him around rather than drop him after what had happened. And if she was going to act like it was nothing, like everything he had said and done, including the yelling and the whole having a crush on her for years, had been nothing but a weird side effect of living in this little town, then so was he. No way was he about to let something like that ruin this.

Outwardly anyways. Inside he was going to have to with what the hell that was supposed to mean. Everyone always said that dreams were the result of one’s brain trying to figure something out. Or maybe it had been nothing. Just the result of magic doing what magic did. Still, he would have to come to terms with that.

Mike watched as she leaned back on the bed. Where he had just been sleeping. Asking him to join, basically. And he almost did, he opened his mouth to make a crack about her making herself feel right at home, huh?, but stopped himself, mortified at his own thought process.

He needed to get out of there.  

“Uh, no!” he blurted out, making more indistinct sounds as he stumbled off the bed and looked around the room, clumsily gathering his stack of books he had on the night stand under his arm. “I- well, when I’m up, I’m up. And I have work I need to get done. New semester, you know …I’ll just-“

He pointed at the door, making a b-line for it with some more pep in his step. Mike stopped at the door, hesitating as he stood there, then finally decided to turn to look at her, “Stay as long as you need. I can have something for you to eat when you get back up.” 

SARINA

Sarina dropped her head and let out a small laugh as Mike stammered away. Should she have expected anything different. Not really. Had she hoped for something different. Yeah.

"One day you'll have to get used to someone in your bed." Sarina teased though the comment was more directed at the pillow as she pulled it toward her so she could cuddle into it.

"You're cute but dont fret about me. If anything I'll just walk over to blue oven." She wasn't going to ask him to put himself out more for her. Or at least she would try not to make him do so.

MIKE

The blush that had climbed from his neck to his face felt more like the result of a sunburn on his skin, radiating heat that was close to being painful. He averted his eyes, allowing them to take interest in the books he was carrying with him. 

Mike nodded, furrowing his brow at the spine of the book, feeling terribly stupid for having just asked that. Or anything, really. She made him feel stupid and he hated that feeling. He had to get out of there before he said something else that might jeopardize their little heart to heart just now. That moment had been good. Great, even. It would be a shame if his big mouth up and ruined it. 

“Okay,” he said in a soft voice, dropping a hand onto the door handle as he pulled it behind him as he backed out into the hallway. “Well, if you need me, you know where to find me.” 

He cast her one last smile and shut the door. He took a breath, about faced, and continued on his way to the kitchen to bury his head in research instead of thinking about Sarina Go sleeping in his bed. 

#wazowskiofthemikevariety