#Some Velvet Morning Photography

[dreamingofep]

A Blue Velvet Crush

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

TW: Cussing, teasing, SMUTTT, fingering

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello everyone! This picture of Elvis lives rent free in my head and I knew when I first saw it, I had to write something for it.

If you've never seen some of this performance, I'd recommend watching! I'll make another post with the youtube link!

Thank you again❤️

Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

Mississippi, September 26th, 1956

Traffic was backed up for miles and the buzz in the air was electrifying. You couldn’t hide your nerves though. You weren’t even supposed to be here today but by the grace of God, you got thrown in the ring and had to cover today’s most important story. Elvis Presley was back in his hometown of Tupelo, Mississippi to perform a charity concert. His rise to fame seemed to happen overnight and everyone was dying to see him in person. 

You were just an intern at the Tupelo Mirror and your supervisor that was running the Elvis story got sick this morning. Eric called you at the crack of dawn, frantic that no one was going to be there to take pictures. You had only been at the newspaper for a month and a half, you didn’t want to overstep your role and be too forward, but you mentioned that you have photography experience. You ran your college photography club and were majoring in journalism. You know you can take some decent shots of him. You try to sell yourself, affirming you can do this! The whole reason you were working for the newspaper was to get a better shot of getting a job at a newspaper company after you graduated. You thought this would be the perfect way to gain the experience. And if you got some good pictures of Elvis Presley? That could change your whole life. 

You did have a fondness of the man but like, who didn’t at your age? He was the new cool guy who was causing havoc wherever he went. He was talented and had this luring sense about him. You hadn’t ever seen him in person, but based on the few televised appearances he’s made, he was beyond incredible. You knew he had a talent that no one had ever had. Your parents would always make a fuss if you were watching him and tried to make you feel bad for it. 

“No Christian boy should be moving like that! It’s abhorrent.” Your parents used to say. 

You’d just roll your eyes and grumble under your breath. Your parents didn’t understand that he was something young people could love and be fully immersed in without having to act all prim and proper about it. There was no other artist that would make you feel the way Elvis made his audiences feel. He was passionate and he felt the music to his very soul. It showed so easily he didn’t have to say he loved what he was doing. 

And now you were going to be feet away from Elvis, taking his picture and maybe even getting the chance to ask him a few questions. The cars started moving forward more and before you could get through the gates, a police officer stopped you. You rummaged through your satchel and pulled out your press pass. He quickly nodded and directed you to the portion of the lot where other photographers and press reporters were gathered. You quickly find a spot and throw your car in park. You throw your satchel over your head and grab your camera out of its bag. It wasn’t the most high-end camera but it took nice pictures. You double-checked the camera had enough film and quickly made a beeline to the stage. 

There were thousands of people here already and the buzz in the air was electric. You saw girls jumping up and down giddy that they were about to see Elvis live. You had some of the men standing next to them with a bored expression on their faces like they didn’t want to be there. You had to play it cool though. You had your press badge on and the last thing you needed was for someone to see you acting giddy when you had to be professional today. 

There was a corralled section for the press behind ropes that gave you a bit better access on the side of the stage but it was still very crowded. Not only that, but it was all men here and they were all significantly taller than you. You couldn’t see a damn thing from this area and became worried you weren’t going to be able to get one good photograph of this entire thing!

You try to push and shove your way closer to the front but just get these condescending looks toward you and don’t budge an inch for you. You didn’t expect anything less honestly, the industry was made up of men and wasn’t exactly kind to women entering the workplace. You shake it off, not letting it get to you too much. 

The audience starts screaming as the band takes their place on stage. It’s a small band with just a drummer, bassist, and guitar player. They’re all smiles when they hear the crowd go wild for them. Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage though. You want to get the first glimpse of him when he gets on this stage. 

The audience continues to grow antsy and an announcer hops on stage. He steps in front of the microphone at center stage and taps it with his finger. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know you all are very excited to have one of our very own from Tupelo be here today. I need you to give a warm welcome to Elvis Presley.”

The crowd erupts at his name and everyone bursts out in insane excitement. You keep your eyes on the side of the stage and you raise the camera to your face, getting ready for the first shot. 

The audience gets louder and you feel the hair on your arms rise. There you see him. He’s dressed in a velvety blue long-sleeve and loose black slacks with his perfect white oxfords. His hair was greased back and looked shiny. He had his guitar on and made his way to the microphone. From this angle, he looked so tall, his legs easily gliding him across the stage. 

He carried this nervous energy about him tho. He puts his hand in his pocket and grabs the microphone with the other hand. 

Click. 

He starts Heartbreak Hotel and drives the place insane. Everyone is screaming and some girls are even crying. His voice rings out flawlessly and once he starts singing, there’s no stopping him. He can’t seem to stand still. Whether it’s the music moving him or the nerves, he is shaking and moving, making the crowd even more insane.

There are times when the screams overpower his voice coming through the microphone. He has an amused look on his face the whole time though. Especially when he swings his hips and makes the girls go bezerk. You catch yourself blushing at those moves, how he can move his hips so easily as he makes these in-passion faces. He made you feel something you’ve never felt before. It was bad, it was lust driving you to keep looking at what he was going to do next. You wanted him to move more to see just how those hips would move in other circumstances…

Click.

Fucking focus.

He wasn’t afraid to get close to his fans. It looked like he really loved them. You could tell he moved his leg just to get them going and have them look there. Or how he’d say a certain word and prolong it all sensually, it drove the place nuts. Even just the way he held the microphone and dragged it along beside him. He commanded that stage by doing the smallest things. Elvis walks slowly to the edge of the stage where dozens of fans reach out their hands for him. He gets close and reaches out his hand too, still singing and never missing a beat.

Click.

You get the side profile of him but you think it’s going to be a great picture when it develops. What you really want is a perfect picture of his face straight onto the camera. That would be a great way to solidify that you are a great photographer and can do this professionally.

Elvis finishes his set and gets rushed off stage into the building behind the arena. You follow the crowd that’s trying to get to him, hoping you can get another picture of him that’s even better than the ones you took. The other photographers aren’t paying any attention to you and push and shove their way through. You huff annoyed, hoping you can get in there before they close the doors. 

You find a spot on the side but all the men in here are so much taller and crowding Elvis. You slump by the door, frustrated that you might have ruined your big chance to prove yourself at the newspaper as you haven’t gotten a single shot of his face straight on. You wanted to the perfect shot and it seems your opportunity was wasted. 

“Alright everyone it’s time to leave. Elvis won’t be answering any more questions,” a man bellows. Most of the men try to protest but they slowly start to funnel out of the door. You continue to get pushed aside until you’re almost behind the door. You don’t move from behind there because, for a brief second, a devious idea pops into your head. 

Just stay here long enough for everyone to leave and ask for a picture when he’s alone.

Your heart pounds away at just the thought of being alone with Elvis but you had to try it. The worst he could say was no and get out. 

The last few remaining men shuffle out of the room and Elvis yells out that he’ll be right out. The door shuts closed, making your little hiding spot be exposed in plain sight. 

Elvis had his back to the door so he didn’t see you right away. You sighed in relief for that but had to work up the courage to say something to him.

What exactly should you say in this situation? ‘Hi I snuck in your dressing room even though I was told to get out, can I take a few pictures of you for the newspaper?’

You cringed just thinking about it. You took a few deep breaths and straightened out your dress.

“Umm, excuse me, Elvis?” You say sheepishly.

He turns around quickly at the sound of your voice and stares wide-eyed at you. He doesn’t say anything right away and neither do you because seeing him this close and in person is too much.

He is beautiful, in every shape and form, he is beautiful. You’ve never seen such a handsome-looking man before in your life and have no words. Logical thinking went out the window with him and he looks at you with the same expression on his face. You haven’t said more than four words to him but you want him. You want him to look at you and touch you and never stop. Your core flutters at that scandalous thought.

“You scared me there honey. H-how’d you get in here?” He asks with a mischievous grin forming on his face.

“W-w-well I uhhh. Well, I work for the newspaper and I was wondering if I could take a few more pictures of you?” You ask nervously. A long silence fills the room and you are about to turn on your heels and run for the door when he gives you another cheeky smile.

“Sure, I don’t mind at all. What was your name lil’ darlin’?” He asks smoothly.

Lil’ darlin’.

Jesus Christ I’m not going to make it out of here alive with all his charm suffocating me.

“Oh gosh Elvis, thank you so much. This truly means so much to me. And my name is y/n.” You tell him in a hurry. You make sure your camera is on and ready before you look back up at him watching you intently.

“Y/n… that’s very pretty…Where’d you want me, honey?” He coos.

Your heart pounds in your ears and you can’t register anything he just said. All you can do is look at him in shock and can’t believe you’re alone with him. You know how many thousands of girls would kill for a moment like this? And the question he just asked?! Ooh, the sheer audaciousness he has. He knows he's irresistable.

I'd love you to cover me in kisses with those pillowy soft lips...

“Huh?” You say in a daze.

“Where did you wanna take my picture honey? You’re the photographer and all,” he teases. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks and you nervously look down at your camera.

“Oh yeah… sorry… I’ve never really done this,” you admit. His eyebrows shoot up surprised, “First time? Wow, that’s somethin’ for a little lady coming here and coverin’ a story on a day like this. The whole town is making a huge fuss over me, I don’t think deserve it, but it’s very special either way. I’ll make sure to give you the best pictures,” he winks. It feels like your heart just about stopped by that one minuscule movement.

Stop that. Stop that right now!

You sweetly smile up at him and move further into the room, trying to see what angle and lighting would be best. The wall behind him was blue and you thought that would be a perfect backdrop to accentuate the velvet shirt he was wearing and his piercing blue eyes.

“Umm, let’s try with you stand there. I think that would be a nice background,” you say.

He casually takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets.

“Like this?” He asks. You raise the camera to your face, make sure the frame is straight, and push the button.

Click.

He looked good without even trying. He had this golden aura about him. Like he shined from within. He was remarkable and you know that without saying much else to him. Even if you didn’t like him already, you can see the appeal. He was so easy to love. So easy to be around. Everything about him was inviting and warm. You don’t know how you were going to peel yourself away from him…

“Okay, how about one smiling?” You ask. He nods his head and gives you this cute cheeky smile.

Click.

God help me I can’t breathe with this man around looking this good.

“How are they comin’ out honey?” He asks, his southern inflection on honey making you feel like the actual word.

“Oh, just fine. I think they’re going to be amazing when printed,” you try to say casually.

“Oh good… what are you doin’ working for the newspaper?” He asks, fixing the sides of his hair with a comb.

Click.

“I don’t work for the newspaper, not yet at least. I’m just an intern. I’m a student at the University of Mississippi studying journalism and thought it would help to work there for a bit so when I graduate in two years, I can hopefully get a job at a newspaper,” you explain.

He intently looks at you, interested in everything you have to say, “That’s wonderful honey. I think that’s great you’re pursuing that. I don’t doubt for a second you won’t get a job anywhere you apply for,” he says sweetly. You can’t help but blush at his nice words and fiddle with your camera.

“Thank you, Elvis,” you say quietly. He walks over to the sofa that’s up against the wall and casually takes a seat.

He stretches out one arm along the back of the couch and the other rests on the arm of it. His legs were spread open and your eyes can’t help but stare at them. They were so long and he exuded sensuality, it nearly made you dizzy. He sees how you’re looking at him, intrigued with the man that so many found attractive.

You raise the camera to your eye once again as he looks down the lens intensely.

Click.

You felt like screaming like those girls were earlier. You’ve never felt so attracted to someone’s presence. It kind of scared you in a way. 

He moves on the sofa slightly, bringing his hand to his mouth and giving you this luring, sultry gaze.

Oh lord, I’m a dead woman…

Click.

He doesn’t change this pose after the flash goes off, he continues to sit there with his eyes drinking you in. Your body can’t take this, the tension in the room is palpable and you are seriously considering running out now since you have plenty of good shots. Elvis slowly starts to lower his hand from his mouth and you see he was biting his lip behind it this whole time. He slowly drags his teeth across it before letting it go with a pop.

“Anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are?” He asks softly.

You can’t hide your flushed cheeks anymore and lower the camera from your face to see if he’s being serious. His eyes look heavy and somber, but he cracks a little grin to lighten the mood.

“Oh, no… not something I normally hear,” you say insecurely.

“That’s a shame darlin’, you really are. You have the most gorgeous smile, beautiful eyes, and the longest legs I’ve ever seen,” he gushes. 

I’m dead. I’ve gone to heaven and died. This can’t be happening!

“Well thank you very much. I could say the same for you,” you say coyly.

His eyebrows raise at the blunt remark and chuckles softly to himself. He lowers his hand off the back of the sofa and places it on the empty space beside him, looking at it, then looking back up at you. He doesn’t need to say another word, he pulls you in without trying.

You carefully place your camera on the table and take your bag off your shoulder. You make your way to sit beside him as your heart gallops like a racing horse.

He turns his body a bit to face you more and being this close to him is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. You have to hold your breath or he might notice how nervous you are.

“No guy back home telling’ you how pretty you are hmm?” He says, tucking back stands of hair behind your ear. All you can do is shake your head no. His fingertips barely graze the lobe of your ear but it makes you feel weak anyway. The arousal dripping from your core is not helping the situation and not letting you think clearly.

“Oh, well I’m sorry men are so blind over there. I think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he quips, giving you a cheeky smile. “The most pretty eyes, the most pretty nose, the most pretty pink lips I’ve ever seen,” he coos, leaning in closer until you can feel his breath on your lips.

You can’t take it anymore and lean in, devouring his lips with yours. You let out a deep breath as your mouth touched his, his lips feeling softer than you could have ever possibly imagined. He was so gentle with his kiss, making sure he wasn’t overstepping your boundaries. But you didn’t care about that. You screamed for more from him. More kisses, more long heated stares, more everything. 

You boldly, place your hand on his bicep, pulling yourself closer to him. He responds to your touch and you can tell he likes it. His crushed velvet shirt felt nice underneath your fingertips and felt his toned arms. He places his hand on your cheek, pulling you in with more urgency. You feel breathless, loving the way his skin makes yours feel like it’s on fire.

Elvis softly pulls away, not before biting your bottom lip and letting a sigh slip out of his mouth.

“Those lips darlin’, I could kiss them all day,” he mutters, his eyes heavy with lust.

“What’s stopping you?” You whimper. He grins and pulls you in once more.

You can’t believe any of this is real. The way he is kissing you should not feel so good and yet it does. You put both of your hands on his chest, pulling him closer to you by the collar of his shirt. His hands start to roam along your back, feeling the curve of it and how well this dress fits you. Every inch of you wants his hands placed lower. Right at the spot that is yearning for friction from those perfect hands.

He starts to drag one of his hands to your hip, squeezing there then down the top of your thigh. Need coursed through you and you couldn’t help but open your legs a tad bit. You’re not sure if he noticed, but he let out a pleased hum as he kissed you with more intensity.  

You needed to feel him. You needed to feel how soft his skin would be when it’s pressed against yours. Your hand sneaks into his shirt and feel the coarse little chest hairs he had there. You were right, his skin felt perfect and it only made you crave more. You snake your hand lower and onto the top of his thigh. You make the same movements he’s doing to you and you feel his body melt at your touch. 

You move your hand a bit lower and go to caress the inside part of his thigh and you freeze.

“Oh…” you moan into his mouth.

What you felt underneath your fingertips made you cry in need of him. Dear God, he was blessed in more ways than one. He was so much longer than you expected and it made your heart leap out of your chest. His cock was warm and fully hard in his pants as your fingertips slowly start to rub against him. You pull away from his lips and have to look at what your hand is feeling. 

You were going to die and see the pearly gates if you tried to have that inside of you. But God you didn’t care, you wanted him so bad. You’ve never wanted a man like this in your entire life. Looking up at Elvis, he looks calm and collected, still giving you a heated stare. He looks down at your hand, then back up to you with an innocent look about him. 

“You like what you feel baby?” He asks low. You take a deep breath before answering him.

“Y-yes. Yes, I do…” you say softly, your hand moving along him more. He lets out a pleased groan and adjusts his hips slightly, liking the feeling of your touch on him.

“Do you want more? Do you want to feel what it’s like inside of you?” He coos, leaning in for a soft kiss that leaves you dizzy. Your breathing felt erratic and the ache you had in your core only worsened.

“Yes please Elvis… please,” you beg. He smirks at you and kisses your neck, sending a shock of electricity through you. 

“Can I see what you’re wearin’ underneath this pretty dress honey?” He asks you. You nod your head and his fingers find the zipper of your dress easily. He slowly pulls it down and pulls down the fabric off the front of your body. You help him slip you out of your dress and sit there with your white bra and panties left on. He lets out a pleased little groan as he sees you sitting there, trembling with need. He gently touches your exposed skin, leaving little goosebumps behind. He touches your breasts gently, biting his lip as both of his hands cup them and start to play with your nipples through the fabric of your bra. You can’t help but lean into his touch loving every second of this.

He places a soft kiss on top of your breast as he reaches around and unclips your bra. He quickly puts one of your nipples in his mouth and sucks on it, groaning as he does so. Your back arches into his mouth, craving so much more from him. His other hand roams your body but only focuses on the top half of you. Your core was dripping with arousal and aching to be touched by those long fingers. You guide one hand between your legs and have him put pressure there.

You gasp instantly, his touch feeling better than you could have imagined but also realize you’ve soaked through your panties. He takes his mouth off of you and pulls away to look down at his hand.

“Fuck honey, how long have you been soaked like this?” He grumbles, his two fingers sliding up and down through your covered folds and creating the most delicious friction.

“Since I saw you moving on that stage,” you admit weakly.

He chuckles softly, “Oh honey, why didn’t you tell me sooner… this pussy just weepin’ for me?” He asks as his fingers slide the elastic of your panties to the side and expose your leaking core to him.

“Yes,” you moan. He nods his head and slowly pushes a finger inside of you. You both groan together, filling you so nicely. Your hips rock into his hand, needing everything he can give you. 

You throw your head back as he adds another finger inside of you.

“Elvis,” you moan, your chest heaving for more. He watches you intently, liking how on edge you are for him. His fingers twist and curl inside of you and you gasp for air. He likes what he’s doing and can’t get enough got you either.

“You feel so nice and wet baby. Can I give you my cock now?” He asks.

“Please, I want you Elvis, please give it to me,” you beg, reaching for his belt and unfastening it. He pulls down your panties and you lift your hips to help him get them off. You then work on the button of his pants and slide down the zipper. He lifts his hips up too to take them off and you watch as his cock comes out. Oh God, you were weak by just looking at it. His pink tip was peeking out from his foreskin and clear precum started to dribble down his length. His hand wraps around his length and spreads some of that slickness around the tip of him, moving his hand up and down slowly. You look back into his intense eyes and don’t know what to say.

“You want to ride me, honey?” He asks. The look on your face must have shown the apprehension you had thinking about taking him like that. He rubs his thumb along your cheek and smirks at you.

“It’ll feel so good baby. You’re so wet for me, you’re going to cover my cock in your sweet honey and make us feel so good,” he groans as you watch him swirl his thumb around the tip of his cock. A pent-up moan escapes your lips and quickly straddle his hips, needing him more than ever.

He rubs his length through your folds, covering him in your arousal and making you both moan with the sensation. You hold onto his shoulders and press kisses to his cheek. You feel him line himself up to your entrance and hold your hips. Elvis looks up at you with need and his eyes are begging you to have him. You felt the heat of him pressed there against your entrance and you can’t wait any longer. You start to sink down on his impressive length, moaning as you take the first few inches. He felt so good, filling you so completely and stretching out your tight entrance. He throws his head back onto the couch and groans as you take him, squeezing your hips tightly.

The sounds he makes when he’s getting pleased goes straight to your head. You love the way he groans as you move slowly on him. You never knew you could be so attracted to the sound of a man getting pleased. You take more of him inside you and cry out his name, overwhelmed it can be feeling this good. 

“You feel so good, honey. You like how my cock feels inside you?” He groans into your ear. You gasp as his hips move up into you, stuffing more of his length inside of you.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you cry out.

You move faster on him, wanting more of him and feeling your walls fluttering each second. His eyes watch how your breasts bounce as you’re riding him, drunk at the very sight of you. You close your eyes, overwhelmed with all the sensations he’s giving you and those eyes only make it worse and worse. 

Your hips grind at the base of his cock and you both whimper. Your clit rubs at the base of him and you feel your walls start to clench around him. You ride him harder, chasing the high of your orgasm. You look back into his eyes, desperate for him to help you.

“E-Elvis… oh please,” you beg.

“Come darlin’, I wanna feel you come for me,” he groans as he snaps his hips into you, causing his cock to get deeper inside you.

You whimper in agony, not being able to hold on much longer. His hands are back on your hips and help you move more. Your breathing is ragged and your vision is blurry, you thrust a few more times on him and you feel your body shudder hard. Your walls squeeze around his length and cry out his name like he’s your saving grace. He groans with you, loving how good you feel around him. He helps you rock your hips into him more, making you come more than you ever have in your life. Your head feels dizzy and your body feels like it’s floating. You never knew a man could make you feel this good.

You keep riding him and don’t want to stop. He was still making these sinful sounds that sent a pulse straight to your pussy as you hear him getting pleased by you. He bites his lower lip as he stares at you, beaded sweat gathering at his temples and his breathing becoming more frantic.

“Ah, honey you feel so damn good. I need to come now,” he says gruffly. He picks you up off of him and has you stand in between his open legs. He grabs his cock in his hand once more and starts to jerk himself off, staring at you with need. You wanted to touch him again, feel the warmth of his length fill your hand. You boldly get on your knees and take his hand off of himself. You wrap your small hand around him and his eyes roll back in his head. Your wetness covered his length and made it easy to move your hand on him. You angle his length toward your chest and he bucks his forward and falls apart. His seed comes out in thick, hot, spurts and lands on your chest. He groans loudly and cusses under his breath with each stroke of your hand. 

“Oh yes honey, yes,” he moans.

He’s trying to calm down and regain his normal breathing but your thumb continues to tease his extra sensitive head. He groans in agony, loving and hating how you’re playing with him.

“God honey I-I-I ain’t never felt so good,” he sighs. “Come here,” he says opening his arms to you. 

You get up and sit on his thigh, your spilling arousal making a mess on him. You wince when you feel the wetness spread on him and look up at him with an innocent smile.

“Sucha messy lil’ girl hmm?” He teases.

“Mhmm, you’re quite messy too,” you quip, looking down at your chest with him covering it.

He laughs amused, “Well, you felt too good what can I say,” he says cutely, placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I had to say thank you in some way for letting me take some pictures of you,” you say shyly.

“Oh, you didn’t need to, but I’m so thankful you did,” he winks.

You kiss each other more, reveling in this moment together, not wanting it to end so soon. But you knew he had other places to be, you couldn’t keep him in here forever.

“I don’t want to keep you from your day. The whole town is so happy you’re here,” you smile.

“Thanks, honey. It’s nice to be celebrated in sucha nice way,” he says caressing your face, “but this might have been my favorite thing I got today.” He says cutely.

“And what’s that?” You ask smartly.

“You, my new favorite reporter.”

*

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Tagging:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler

@neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @loving-elvis @theresalwaysep

@prompted-wordsmith@sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog.@myradiaz@tacozebra051

@thatbanditqueen

@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873

@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis

@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy

@elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony

@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121

@jaqueline19997

@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8

@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69

@mh777ep1938 @50sexyshadesfashionista

@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs

[vanwritesfan-fiction]

Concept, Jack asking your opinions for the new balance shoe

Made in Boston

A/N: all of this is made up lol

Usually Jack's trips to the New Balance office were quick and all business, so when he suggested the family go with him this time around, you were hesitant at the thought of trying to keep up with three kids while he was in meetings all day. Still, Jack was insistent that you be there, so you packed the family up and headed to New England.

As you got a tour of the New Balance offices, Brooklyn's eyes lit up with excitement. She had come into her own over the past couple of years, finding her own personal style, and even at a young age, she had an impressive sneaker collection that rivaled Jack's own. She asked a million questions about the process and people's different jobs, and Jack's heart swelled with pride as he watched his oldest child speak so confidently in front of others.

Your tour ended up in one of the boardrooms, where Urban and other members of Jack's team, as well as some of New Balance's designers were waiting. As soon as you spotted Urban, you were confused and the girls were very excited to see their uncle.

"Uncle Urby!"They ran to him, making the back of his chair hit the wall. "My chickadees!" He was just as excited to see them, grabbing them in a tight hold. You stopped Jack just short of the threshold, grabbing his hand. He squeezed your fingers gently a couple times when he realized you were nervous about being met with so many people. "What's everyone doing here? What's going on?"

"I have a surprise for you and the girls that I think you're going to love." Jack gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek that immediately made you relax before letting go of your hand. He took Wesley from you and guided you to a seat at the head of the table. One of the designers you met when you first arrived sat down next to you, and handed you some line art. You didn't know it at the time, but you were looking at the beginning designs for a new sneaker.

"When we reached out to Jack about having his own sneaker launch with the brand, he had a lot of stipulations." You immediately looked at Jack with wide eyes, meeting his beaming smile across the room. He blushed as you mouthed "I can't believe this. I love you" to him, his neck turning a bright red. You knew how much it meant to him to work with a brand that meant so much to him for such a long time, but to have his own sneaker was a dream come true.

Jack couldn't tame his excitement, unintentionally interrupting. "I let the team know that if I did a shoe, I wanted my girls to have a part in the design process. I want you, Brookie and Liyah to pick parts of the shoe that represent something you love, and Urban's here to give his input as well. I don't want this to be just a 'Jack Harlow' shoe."

Your family spent the morning coming up with the sneaker of your dreams that you felt represented your life and the things you loved most.

Pink being their favorite color, Brooklyn and Aaliyah chose the bright pink detailing and pink velvet tongue and laces. You chose the vintage floral upper detail to represent one of the first dates that you and Jack went on to the vintage store Fleur De Flea in Louisville years ago, where you had your first kiss on an old couch in the furniture section. Urban chose the dark green midsole to represent nature, where he gets a lot of the inspiration for his photography.

The more you saw the sneaker come to life through sketches, the more excited everyone was to get to see the final product in the future. It truly was a labor of love and a reflection of the life you'd built together.

"We've got one more thing to show you. This was the first idea that Jack came to us with." The designer handed you physical insoles, that you inspected. They had sketches of one man and one woman wearing their best derby fare, true to the classic Kentucky Derby exuberant style. "What does this represent?" You looked up at Jack, who's eyes were already on you, giving you the same look he did before he kissed you for the first time.

"Its-uh, it represents the first time I saw you, at the Kentucky Derby almost a decade ago." You furrowed your brow in confusion as you searched your brain for the memory. "We didn't meet at the derby, we met at a party months later."

"I know", Jack gave you a cheesy grin, "I saw you across the racetrack that day, wearing your pink dress, and couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful you looked, and I knew that I had to meet you one day. I think luck was on my side when we met at that party later that year. This part of the shoe represents our relationship and all of the amazing things that have come into my life since I laid eyes on you all those years ago."

It took everything in you not to run across the table to kiss your husband, but keeping it professional, you blew him a soft kiss across the room.

[tj-dragonblade]

Dreamling Fic Masterpost

In honor of Dreamling Week, here's an updated masterpost of everything I've written for them so far, split into SFW and NSFW. Each section is arranged oldest to newest. Links go to Tumblr posts, and each Tumblr fic post has the direct AO3 link also.

You can also find me HERE on AO3.

💕🌼The Fluff and Assorted Other Offerings🌦️❤️‍🩹 If it's rated M there is a brief spicy passage somewhere in the fic but not enough to warrant the full E

Use Your Words Rated T, ~2500 words Hob finds mistletoe hung in the bar. Dream is. Insistent. That they adhere to tradition.

Old Acquaintance Rated G, ~800 words It’s New Year’s Eve at the New Inn, and Dream and Hob are on the same page

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: velvet Rated G, 165 words One of Hob's favorite things about Dream

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: memory Rated G, ~230 words Dream is distracted by a memory

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: thread Rated G, ~200 words Hob loves his grey hair

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: daydream Rated T, ~800 words Hob's daydreams are not the only distracting ones

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: enthusiasm Rated G, ~200 words Enthusiasm is one of Hob's defining traits

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: trust Rated T, ~1500 words Dream finds Hob cooking for him (aka The Spicy Omelettes one)

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: grass Rated G, ~330 words A date in Fiddler's Green

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: fireplace Rated G, ~170 words Generic hearth metaphor

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: strong Rated T, ~3400 words Dream helps a drunken Hob get home (aka The Drunken Confessions one)

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: teach Rated T, ~520 words Dream teaches Hob how to summon him; self-immolation discouraged

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: vague Rated M, 465 words Sometimes Dream speaks vaguely. Sometimes he is Very Direct

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: glasses Rated T, ~330 words Sometimes Hob wears Glasses

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: yesterday Rated G, ~470 words Time works different in the Dreaming

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: recovery Rated T, ~2900 words Dream is dating; Hob works hard to just be a good friend while watching it fall apart (aka The Thessaly Breakup fic)

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: friend Rated T, ~1800 words Dream contemplates friendship, Hob, and the blurring of boundaries

In the Morning Light Rated T, ~1960 words Dream visits Hob on a rainy morning

Anticipation Rated T, ~700 words Dream chooses Hob’s Halloween costume (spoiler alert: it's the Wavemother's robe from BG3)

Untitled Knight Hob/King Dream Scene Rated M, ~1300 words A synopsis-plus-scene-draft of a potential Knight Hob and King Dream AU that in all likelihood I will never actually go back to, but I like what's here so it goes on the masterlist

The Keeper and the Traveler Rated G, ~1700 words Not-Exactly-Human AU. A campfire folktale about finding what you didn’t know you were searching for, or something like that. Inspired by Nightwish's 'The Islander'

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm Rated M, ~6900 words It’s winter in London and Hob is interested in sharing various cold-weather human experiences with his distinctly-not-human boyfriend

Shampoo Rated G, ~550 words Fluffbruary 2024 prompt 'Scent'. Big changes also mean small changes, and sometimes a loss can bring gain as well

London Fog Rated M, ~3500 words Sequel to Caribbean Sunset. Human AU. Dream does his best to ignore Possibilities while he copes with returning from holiday

Before I Go Rated G, ~850 words Fluffbruary 2024 prompt 'Evening'. A Season-of-Mists-style leave-taking visit, some time later in their relationship

Vogue Rated M, ~750 words Fluffbruary 2024 prompt 'Photography'. Human AU. Dream comes home and Hob greets him with a camera.

☂️The Umbrella Boys series, a Human AU☂️ A Sweet Romance Beginning in a Queue Rated T, ~4500 words 🎶Bus stop, wet day, he’s there, I say, ‘Please share my umbrella’🎶 Love Rain Down On Me Rated M, ~2300 words 5 times those Three Little Words go unspoken, and one time they do not.

Chaos and Calm Rated G, ~1550 words Searching for rain boots and meeting friends in the park. No real plot, just meandering domestic parenting vibes.

🔥🌶️The Spice and the Smut🌶️🔥 (aka The Stuff You Hide in the Pantry at Work For) 😉😘

Fluffbruary 2023 Prompt: snack Rated E, ~1800 words Hob comes home to find Dream waiting from him in the traditional murder-widow robe

Built For You Rated E, ~820 words Hob questions Dream on some particulars of his waking world anatomy

Insatiable Rated E, ~3100 words Dream gets rimmed and railed within an inch of his life

Of Cutoff Shorts and Classic Cars Rated E, ~4300 words Hob has made some very distinct wardrobe choices on a hot day. Dream approves.

Little Indulgences Rated E, ~1000 words A spot of fun with lingerie and sex toys

Caribbean Sunset Rated E, ~5500 words Human AU. Hob hooks up with a beautiful stranger on a Caribbean cruise

My Song Can But Borrow Your Grace Rated E, ~6800 words Fanfic for Flatter the Mountain Tops by Teejaystumbles (linked in the post). Dragon AU. Hob wants Dream in dragon form to fuck him while he stays in human form; Dream is beginning to see there’s more to it than just a size kink.

Appreciation Rated E, ~4300 words Sequel to Anticipation. Hob wears the costume (the Wavemother's Robe from BG3); Dream has his fun.

On the Edge of a Waking Dream Rated M, ~3900 words Monsterfucktober Bingo Square 'Ghost'. Human AU. Dream never believed in ghosts until his boyfriend became one

The Beauty of the Beast Rated E, ~3100 words Monsterfucktober Bingo Square 'Were-creature'. Recently-turned werewolf Hob wants to protect Dream from this new side of him. Dream is. Not interested in being protected.

Ambrosia Rated E, ~4000 words An exercise in celebrating the human messiness (and messy humanness) that Dream finds so attractive in Hob

Customer Service Rated E, ~4500 words For the Dreamling Week 2024 June 5 prompt 'Dirty'. Human AU. Mechanic Hob's just trying to fix the rich guy's Porsche but the rich guy is looking at Hob like he's a five-course meal

[its-avalon-08]

Hey cutie!

I would love to read something about George! If its okay to you ofc…🫶🏼

Maybe you have some ideas..🙈

Thank you anyways!🫶🏼

hi lovely! george is my one my literal favs <3 i hope you enjoy this one, because i've always wanted to write one like this -

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

somewhere in the crowd there's you < 3

he wasn't your regular low effort boyfriend. george looked at y/n and saw what the rest of his life looked like. the angels sung from the heavens above and all felt right in the world. it was as if he had found his matching puzzle piece.

y/n wasn't your regular low effort girlfriend. she was in love with george the way that spiderman and mj were in love. she knew the pressure of the sport, the constant travel, the grueling training, but amidst it all, their connection remained a constant, a warm summer breeze in the hurricane of f1.

6:15 am, monaco

george stirred awake to the soft glow of dawn creeping through the curtains. as his eyes adjusted, he saw a thermos and a protein bar neatly placed on the nightstand beside a vase of the most beautiful daisies. a sleepy smile tugged at his lips. y/n. she knew mornings were a struggle before a race weekend, and having his favorite breakfast ready, without him even asking, was a small gesture with a giant impact.

1:30 pm, budapest

y/n sat nervously in the mercedes motorhome, fiddling with a worn silver necklace. the roar of engines from the qualifying session vibrated through the air. she closed her eyes, picturing george navigating the sharp turns of the hungering circuit. suddenly, the door creaked open and a sweaty, yet grinning george peeked in.

"just wanted to say that i promise i won't die and i'll come back home to you love," he whispered, leaning down for a quick kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through her. "you better come back in one piece george otherwise it's not toto you'll be running from," she said with a teasing tone. she squeezed his hand three time conveying the magical words "i-love-you" as she always did before races because she knew he was anxious. he chuckled, squeezed her hand and disappeared into the crowd, anxious but aware that he had someone to go home to.

8:45 pm, singapore

the post-race celebrations were in full swing, the air thick with champagne and triumph. george, still buzzing from his podium finish, scanned the crowd. then, there she was, y/n, her smile the brightest beacon in the room. he excused himself, weaving through the throng of people, until he reached her.

"you were incredible," she said, her eyes sparkling with pride. she reached into her purse, pulling out a small, velvet pouch. inside, nestled on a bed of red velvet, was a custom-made silver charm – a miniature mercedes car. "to celebrate your win," she said, attaching it to his bracelet. it joined a collection of other charms – a tiny camera for her photography hobby, a guitar for his love of music – each a token of their shared journey.

later that night, tucked away in their hotel room, george noticed a travel-sized bottle of his favorite muscle relaxer placed on the bathroom counter. a hand-written note lay beside it: "for all your hard work, love. see you on the podium again soon." he smiled, a warmth spreading through him. it wasn't the grand gestures, the expensive gifts, but these small, thoughtful acts that spoke volumes about their love. a silent language spoken only by the two of them, a language that said, "somewhere in the crowd there's you, and that's all that matters."

2:00 am, london

being a biomedical engineer was a taxing job and y/n was an absolute perfectionist. george knew that, y/n knew that, blimey even their dog knew that! one night as george turned in their bed to pull y/n closer, he wasn't about to find her. sleepily dragging out in grey sweatpants and his classic shirtless look, he found her passed out over her laptop and a bunch of papers full of numbers and diagrams. he smiled gently at her calm figure and lifted her up effortlessly. holding her in bridal style, she cuddled closer to him wanting his body's warmth. he set her down into the bed, tying her hair loosely into a braid that y/n had taught him and set her glasses aside. pulling the covers over both of them, george kissed y/n's forehead, pulled her closer and let sleep take over.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more! thanks for reading!

leave a like, leave a comment! (btw i couldn't find the original gif owner, so do let me know)

[solarisensun]

Picture Perfect (1)

yandere Gojo Satoru + Geto Suguru x f!reader

-guess who’s back 😗 (sorry for the odd spacing again ugh)

For some odd reason, you always feel like you are being watched

Warnings: yandere themes, implied drugging +photography, alcohol consumption, NSFW

It’s bright.

Even with your eyelids stuttered close, the harsh blinding light shines through them until your head pounds painfully.

Is the room spinning? Or is it just your head that’s tilting on its own axis?

You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out of your mouth. It feels as if someone had stuffed your brain with cotton. Why is it so bright? You want to ask. Everything seems distorted and muffled. It almost feels as if you are sinking underwater.

The final thing you manage to register is a slow, deep chuckle like warm velvet and the gentle brush of fingertips against your cheek before your head lolls to the side and…

nothing.

You almost feel glad that the light is gone.

—

You always feel like you’re being watched whenever you step into the building.

Both figuratively and literally.

There’s always people bustling about within the building. And familiar smiles are thrown your way when you make your way past the glass sliding doors. “Morning, Miss,” the security guard nods at you from his post and you return his greeting with one of your own. The pretty receptionist at the table gives you a wiggle of her hands before her attention is drawn back to her phone, presumably entertaining another client.

Things are never really quiet here in Tokyo’s largest modeling agency.

And in every corner of this sleek, modern building, the sight of security cameras were not uncommon.

Still, there is this unshakable feeling that lingers on the nape of your neck every single time you step foot within this vicinity. Almost unconsciously, your left hand finds its way to your neck whilst your right hand tightens its grip around your iced coffee. It almost feels as if there is a ghostly presence breathing down your back as a shudder skitters down your spine.

It isn’t until the other staff give you an odd look for loitering in the lobby whilst stock-still when you take a deep inhale to regain your senses.

Perhaps you need to take a break to fix your sleep schedule.

Last night had been another oddly restless night. Oftentimes, you’ve woken up with a pounding headache and constant nightmares that left you feeling disorientated. Even your makeup artist had commented on the increased amount of concealer she needed to use recently to cover up your dark eye circles.

It doesn’t help that you’ve had butterflies fluttering around your stomach ever since your manager informed you of the shoot that you were having today with none other than Gojo Satoru, arguably the man that has the entirety of Japan falling over their feet with a mere glimpse of his picture-perfect face on magazine covers. Though there was no doubt that his beauty was as notorious as his reputation as a bachelor. It wasn’t him that you were worried about. It was the sheer size of the project, probably one of your agency’s biggest projects to date. Unlike Gojo, who had his name already firmly cemented in the modeling industry, this project would give you the chance to do the same too.

And to make matters worse, the photographer for today’s shoot-

Too caught up in your own thoughts, you nearly run face-first into someone else, barely avoiding getting your coffee all over his black shirt.

“Oh,” you blurt out in panic, “I’m so sorry! Please forgive me for not paying attention to my-”

“It’s all right.” His voice, albeit low and cordial, has not an inch of warmth in them. Dark eyes meet yours when you lift your head. Smooth obsidians greet your gaze, and almost immediately, prickles of fear explode across your skin. There’s something, something in his empty eyes that makes you take a step back like a startled rabbit.

Maybe it’s the way his figure looms over your hunched figure.

Before you can take another step away, the feeling of a large hand propped on your waist has you coming to an abrupt halt. All five of his fingers are curled around your waist; it almost feels as if he might break you in two if he squeezed too hard.

“Geto-san,” you mumble when realization crashes across your shoulders. You’ve never seen him in real life before. Though his photography works were renowned, the reclusive photographer has never once accepted interviews nor allowed for his picture to be taken. The only reason you recognize him is the fact that you’ve caught a glimpse of his face once or twice when he had projects occurring in this building. Nevertheless, his face is not one that many would forget. Up close, you can see the clean, unbroken lines of his haughty cheekbones and a strong jaw. His hair is pulled up into a messy bun; there’s something elegantly unsettling about the way he carries himself.

And a small part of you feels almost bad for judging this man but for some reason, it almost feels difficult to breathe in his presence alone.

The ghost of a smile touches his lips, curling them barely upwards. Though it doesn’t exactly look genuine. “I believe we are well-acquainted.” The darkness in his eyes is stark against his pale skin. “You must be the model having a shoot with me later.” He withdraws his hand. “Do be careful the next time you are walking around. You wouldn’t want to get some nasty bruises.”

“Ah,” you breathe out, proud that your voice doesn’t waver. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Geto-san. Please take good care of me later.”

Now that the initial shock has worn off, your fraying nerves have somewhat cooled down enough that you can look him in the eye without being overcome by the feeling that you want to bolt and get as far away from him as possible.

Geto blinks slowly, his face is as impassive as smooth marble.

“Of course.”

—

Your arched brows draw together, the studio lights, glints off the silver headband wound in your hair to hold the elaborate braids in place. Once again, your stylist has outdone herself with her choice of styling today. Yet, the longer you linger under the harsh lights, the pounding in your head seems to worsen with each passing second. It’s gotten to the point where you can almost feel your migraine splitting your poor head in half. s

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you rest your cheek against the cool table, careful not to mess up the hours that your stylist had put into your hair.

Maybe if you close your eyes for a moment everything will calm down.

Even with your eyes shut, the sensation that something, someone is watching you never really dissipates. God, it almost feels like the omnipresent presence is practically looming over your shoulder. You could almost imagine it’s ghostly hands wrapped around your neck, tightening with each slow thud of your heart

Though you knew that if you turned around, there was nothing more but a lone security camera in the far corner.

You really need a break after this.

Preferably, somewhere quiet, and peaceful, and where it isn't so bloody bright.

“Are you all right?”

You jerk up so fast that your head nearly collides against Gojo’s.

“Gojo-san,” you gasp, trying to calm the thunderous heartbeat in your chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, please.” You hadn’t even heard him open the door.

“My bad.” He raises his arms up in defeat. “But I was genuinely worried. You know you looked like you died? Laying on the table all lifeless like that.” For once, your mischievous co-worker looks genuinely concerned, and it almost takes you by surprise. You've gotten too used to never taking his words seriously due to the mirth that glistens in his eyes.

You give him a weak smile, massaging your temples as you reply, “I’m all right. It’s just that I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently. All those sleepless nights are really taking a toll on me.”

He clicks his tongue in response. “After this, we are going for drinks, all right? The three of us, together. You need to loosen up.”

“The three of us?” A frown pinches your brows together.

“Me, you and Suguru of course!” he replies.

“Geto-san?”

“Who else?” Gojo gives you a funny look. You’ve always known that the duo had a history that went way back, but why would he ask you along? To say that you and Gojo were friends would be a stretch. Your conversation with him had never extended past your work life, and you aren’t exactly sure you want him into your personal life as well. After all, you’ve always prided yourself in keeping your reputation squeaky clean.

Gojo, on the other hand, seemed to take delight in gracing the tabloid covers with his extravagant spending and many sexual exploits.

“I don’t think-”

“Come on now,” Gojo whines as he stands over you, both his arms boxing you in perfectly. “When are you going to see me as more than your co-worker?” The sheer intensity burning in his bright crystalline blues make you avert your gaze. “I’m an excellent friend. You know that?”

You level him with an even stare, utterly unfazed by his close proximity. Gojo had always been handsier than most. “We both know you’re a horrible drinker. I don’t want to be hauling your ass back home when you can barely walk.”

Instead of denying, Gojo merely grins as he lowers his head even closer to your face. “I won’t drink.” A thoughtful look flickers over his pristine features before he adds, “And I’m not letting you out of this room until you say yes.”

“Gojo-san!”

“Come on. I promise you, you’ll sleep like the dead if you just go out with me- us, tonight.”

You knock his arm away from the side of your head and step away. “Fine. But only just this once.”

The wide smirk that grows on Gojo’s face almost makes you regret your reply.

“But I’m not exactly acquainted with Geto-san,” you confess, “I wouldn’t want to make things awkward. I know how close the two of you are.” The mere mention of his name and the way his bottomless gaze studied you makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

Gojo waves his hand airily. “Nonsense! Suguru warms up fast when you get to know him.” He gives you a wink as he slings his arm around your shoulders, nearly knocking you forward in the process. “Trust me, he’s all bark and no bite.”

The moment the weight of his arm is around your shoulder, the room seems to blur before your eyes.

White light.

The click of a camera.

Fingers brushing your hair away from your cheek.

A warm body, pressed against yours.

You stumble, pitching forward bonelessly and your face nearly hits the floor until Gojo wraps his hand around your arm and yanks you back to your feet.

“Woah.” In a smooth motion, he pulls you into his embrace. The smell of expensive cologne muddles your senses even further.

“You all right?”

“I-“ Words seem to fail you. So, you brace your palms against his chest and take a shuddering breath in. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. Just give me a moment please.”

You squeeze your eyes shut until the room doesn’t feel like it’s rotating in dizzying circles anymore. And finally, you open your eyes to see Gojo’s worried-filled face swimming in your blurry vision.

“Are you sure? I don’t think you should work in this state,” Gojo tells you in earnest. “I can always inform Geto and we can reschedule our shoot for another day.”

“No!” You cry out a little too loudly. “I- I mean, it’s all right. I don’t want to mess things up. It’s just my sleepless nights catching up to me.” You parrot again in a calmer tone.

Suddenly, Gojo’s invitation to drink appears much more tempting. It did sound good to drink yourself wasted and crash out for the night. Plus, both Gojo and geto seemed like friends whom you could rely on. Earlier, Gojo’s warm enthusiasm about Geto suddenly sends a stab of guilt into you. Truthfully, he did seem like a nice man.

The lack of sleep must be getting to you. Combined with the fact that it’s making you utterly paranoid out of your mind.

Your reply earns you a dubious look. “Anything you say. But the moment you show signs of doing that again, we are ending the shoot.”

“Thanks, Gojo-san.” You give him an earnest smile. “Maybe you aren’t so bad after all” you joke.

“Nah. Don’t let your guard down so fast. I’m not as much of a saint as you paint me out to be.”

—

“Satoru, I told you to look at the camera, not at her.” The sheer annoyance laced in Geto’s statement almost makes you flinch.

On the contrary, Gojo merely gives an annoyed Geto a lazy smile. Upon spotting the grimace on your face, his devilishly rogue smile widens. It’s easy to see why this man had everyone tripping over their feet.

His snowy hair tickles your cheek when he brings his forehead close to yours. A puff of warm breath grazes your ear as Gojo chuckles. “Don’t look so scared. Suguru’s, all bark and no bite.”

Against your better judgment, you feel your cheeks heat up at the way Gojo is talking to you. You blame it on the position that the two of you are in. With both his hands propped on either sides of your face and one of his thighs between your legs. The strap of your dress has slid off, and Gojo’s suit is unbuttoned to reveal the smooth planes of his chiseled chest.

It’s the image of every fan’s wet dream. To have the Gojo Satoru pressed above you.

But the abrupt snap of the shutter yanks you back to reality. All of a sudden, things don’t exactly seem as perfect as they do.

Already, there’s a headache pounding at the back of your head.

“You too.” Geto’s clipped voice calls out amidst the clicks. “Camera. Not each other.”

Reluctantly, you yank your eyes off Gojo’s toothy grin and onto the raven-haired man with half of his face obscured by the camera. When did he get so close? A strand of his hair has fallen out of his bun, but Geto pays it no mind as he continues to angle the camera at the both of you.

You force your tensed body to relax as you peer into the lens, you can see a little reflection of yourself reflected in those dark shutters. It’s taking everything in you not to wince when the repeated click, click, click, echoes mutedly in the air. Picture after picture, your image is imprinted into the film like little notches frozen in time. Bile rises up like a wave in your clogged up throat.

“Look here.” With a jolt, you realize your attention has begun drifting away from the camera. Geto sounds annoyed, almost frustrated, and the tone of his voice sends your already frazzled nerves fraying even more. The last thing you want is to make him annoyed. You don’t want to lose this project before it has even started. Geto readjusts his position. Without warning, he strides over to you and grabs your wrist. The sensation of his cold fingers on your skin makes you gasp like a startled rabbit and you would have scuttled backwards if it weren’t for the fact that Gojo still has you pinned underneath him. You are sure he can feel the way your breath has hitched the moment Geto gripped you.

“You need to put your arm on his shoulder.” With a breathtaking gentleness that one wouldn’t have expected, Geto guides your arm to loop it around Gojo’s shoulder. Yet, his gentleness doesn’t exactly make you feel any better. The look on Gojo’s face is unreadable, almost as if he’s studying you.

Finally, Geto seems satisfied. He brings the camera up again. You don’t point out the fact that he still has his fingers clamped around your wrist and that it would be visible in the photo that he takes. “Look here,” he murmurs under his breath. You don’t point out the fact that Gojo is still looking at you with some sort of burning fervor in his pretty blues. Weren’t you both supposed to look at the camera?

You see a flash of pearly white when Geto smiles. “Perfect.”

Just when you feel like you can’t take it anymore, Geto finally puts his camera aside as he runs a hand through his loose hair. “Let’s take a break.” His empty stare meets yours, and you look away. “We will continue later.”

Gojo helps you to your feet and you continue to intently ignore the weight of Geto’s heavy stare that pins you across your back. Save for the three of you, the studio is empty after Geto insisted for everyone to leave so that he could work in peace. He’d always been particularly meticulous and stubborn with his shoots. And his renowned reputation as a photographer lets him get away with the most bizzare of requests. For some reason, there’s something oddly and unsettling familiar about both their presences lingering just so close to you.

A soft knock on the door has you scurrying over to open it and you almost heave out a relieved sigh at the sight of a familiar face. “Nanami.” A bright smile tugs the corners of your lips upwards when your manager steps into the studio. “I thought you left.”

Nanami, ever the reliable person, hands you a small towel and a cup of warm water, “I’m here to check up on you before I leave.”

Immediately, your brilliant smile fades from the bright glow of a burning sun to nothing more but a flickering candlelight. It doesn’t go unnoticed by your manager. “I can stay if you want. I’ll drop you off after your shoot is done,” Nanami adds gently.

Just as you open your mouth to reply, Gojo cuts in, “Come on now, there’s no need for that. Besides, she’s joining us for drinks after.”

Nanami doesn’t even bother concealing the disapproving look that fleets across his face. “You are?”

Faced with your manager’s stern questioning, you can’t help but fidget anxiously. “Just for a few drinks.” A lightbulb lights up on your head. “Nanami, why don’t you join us?” You hope your voice doesn’t sound too pleading.

“It’s late.” Geto’s velvety voice drifts over. “I’m sure we wouldn’t want to trouble your manager for staying up so late. I’m unsure how long this shoot will last. After all, we aren’t even halfway done yet. Photography is an art that cannot be rushed. I promise you that I’ll be there to keep Satoru in check. You need not worry for her safety.”

All hope that was blossoming in you shrivels up like dried petals.

Seemingly satisfied by Geto’s responsible answer, Nanami nods his head. “All right. Remember to text me when you get home.”

At the doorway, something in your fuzzy gaze seems to stop Nanami in his tracks. But when Geto gives him a firm yet polite smile, he decides that maybe you deserve a night out. After all, he’d always been too strict with you recently. You deserve to have some fun without him constantly breathing your neck. Without another thought, Nanami shuts the door behind him.

——

You’re so perfect that he almost feels like a depraved pervert for even looking at you up close like this.

Being so close, he could almost count each lash that fans across your cheekbones, the tiny pores on your skin, the minty toothpaste that you use. It makes his heart leap to his throat.

Judging by the slow rise and fall of your chest, you must have drifted off into the darkness by now. It's a shame, he did prefer it when you were at least able to remain aware of his touches. Your cute mumbles and attempt to bat his hand away never failed to amuse him to no end.

Nevertheless, he hums to himself, tucking a stray hair of yours behind your ear as he raises the camera to his face.

Click.

Another picture to add to his ever growing collection.

Click.

He almost blushes at the way your shorts have ridden up to expose your thighs. And the camera has certainly captured each dip and contour of your body well.

Click.

Unable to help himself, he angles the camera lower until your lovely face isn’t the only thing in frame. Maybe he really is nothing more than a pervert.

Click.

The abrupt flashes make you stir, making your cheek grazes his outstretched finger, and he shudders at the warmth. Though your delicate softness beckons to him like a flower waiting to be plucked and lovingly pressed against the pages of a book to preserve for an eternity. He resists the temptation.

Instead, he lets his finger trace your collarbones before moving down your limp shoulders. No matter how hard the tent in his pants has begun to strain, he does not give in to that sick little voice that chimes in his head.

No. Instead, he smiles at your motionless figure with nothing but sick adoration and love in his eyes. Gently, he leans down and presses a kiss against your cheek. You mumble incoherently in response.

Even unconscious, your beauty shines ever as brilliantly.

He raises the camera again with a shaky exhale.

Click.

You think that you might be going crazy. Or perhaps, you were being pushed to the brink of insanity. Because even amongst the crowded bar, with the incessant drone of loud chatter echoing your ears, the dreaded sound of the camera’s shutter somehow makes its way to grab your attention.

It can’t be… Wildly, you whip your head from side to side as you scan the crowded room. Everywhere you turn, you are greeted with nothing but flashing neon lights and not a single camera in sight. Were you really starting to hear things now?

Gojo steps into your line of sight with his megawatt smile glinting against the strobe flashes, snagging your attention. He raises two glasses. “Free drinks from the owner.”

From your side, you can hear Geto chuckle. He’s standing a little too close for your liking, but you ignore it in favor of the drink which Gojo sets in your hand. “What is it?” you ask. The heavy bass of the song must have drowned out your answer because Gojo motions you closer with a quizzical look on his face.

Instinctively, you step closer to him, practically balancing on the tip of your toes in order to reach his ear. With one hand still clutching the drink, which was now precariously sloshing around from all your movement, you lean forward and yell into Gojo’s ear, “What is it?”

It takes you another moment before you realize that there’s another body pressed behind yours and Geto’s voice resonates besides you. “Don’t worry about what’s the drink. I can promise you it's good,” he murmurs. “Try it,” Geto urges, his hand closing around your fingers around the metal, folding his fingers into your own as he pushes the cup to coax your lips open. Vaguely, you are aware that his- both their breaths smell like the drink, coy, tantalizing honey paired with hints of fresh lime undertones that paint a sharp contrast to the sugary syrup.

All of a sudden, you are also hyper aware of the fact that both men now have you sandwiched between them without escape. And maybe it’s the drink, or the atmosphere, or the fact that despite your uncomfortableness around them, there’s no denying that they were both ridiculously attractive men.

You want to bat Geto’s hand away, you really do. But he’s being so gentle, and a part of you thinks that you deserve this. You deserve to let loose a little and have fun. Geto’s breath ghosts over the shell of your ear. “I promise. It’s really good.” In front of you, Gojo is looking at you like the three of you are sharing some intimate moment that just makes everything else melt away.

Without another word, you open your mouth and let Geto tip the drink into your parted lips. He’s practically holding the cup at this point, with his other hand curled lightly around the nape of your neck. True to his word, it tastes better than you’d expected. Though the sharp bite of the alcohol makes you wince, it’s quickly replaced by a sweet aftertaste that mingles pleasantly with the alcohol. Unconsciously, you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip to catch the remaining remnants.

It’s dangerous, the way you already feel slightly light, and you know that you wouldn’t think twice to knock back another drink if any of them offered you seconds.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Gojo asks you with a grin a little too wide for your liking.

You nod. Gojo responds by handing the other drink to Geto, who downs the entire thing with a neat flip of his wrist.

The hand on your neck shifts to your waist as Geto gently spins you around until you are facing him. “Come.” He smiles down at you, his black linen shirt is already unbuttoned at the top and his hair has been let loose from its bun, causing it to fall in tousled waves across his broad shoulders. Outside of work, Geto appeared to be much more approachable and carefree. Maybe you’d judged him too quickly. Dimly, you are rather surprised that Gojo hadn’t been the one to approach you first.

His pretty smile widens when you don’t pull away as he entwines the fingers of his large hand with your daintier ones. “Let’s dance.” The warmth of his rough palm licks against your smaller one as Geto gently leads you away towards the centre of the floor.

The moment his hands find their way around your hips and the alcohol sings in your veins, it almost feels as if everything around you has melted into a wondrous blur of musical giddiness.

One moment Geto’s long locks are tickling the nape of your neck as he whispers something into your ear. You can’t quite seem to concentrate on what he’s murmuring; all too aware of this way his fingers are splayed mere inches away from the hem of your dress. But this time, the nauseating feeling doesn’t arise..

When Geto’s low timbre reaches your ears again, you merely smile and laugh, too busy swaying your hips to the throbbing bass, too lost in your sweet bubble to notice how the photographer is looming over you, akin to a second shadow. Nor do you notice his dark, dark gaze as he watches you through half-lidded eyes that burn with a startlingly feverish intensity.

From a distance, a bright gaze tracks your figure.

Gojo was right. Tonight was going to be a good night’s sleep.

[kitsuvil]

Velvet Cigarettes

Kazuha's Friends (the band and the extras)

your friends | masterlist

▪︎ Kazuha

Kazuha lives in an apartment, paid for by the money he gets from being part of the band and some side jobs. He owns two lovely snuggly cats and if the band isn’t hanging out at his apartment, they don’t exist anymore. Kazuha majors in creative writing, which he says helps with his lyrics. He’s a very gentle person, in front of fans and in his normal life. He spends a lot of his time on writing or listening to music and tends to procrastinate on his school work, but he likes the philosophy of something is better than nothing, so he’ll still try his best… a few days before an assignment is due. He has a horrible sleeping schedule and will make high on weed tweets at four in the morning on his private account or pull some amazing ass lyrics from his ass even when class starts in 2 hours. Though he hides it, he easily gets flustered and emotional no matter the situation, even during simple shows.

▪︎ Albedo

Albedo is an art major like Y/N, but they don’t notice each other until after Y/N gets acquainted with the group even though they share like two classes. He’s often buried in his own studies during class, paying close attention because for the rest of the day he’s either spending time at Kazuha’s apartment with the band and practicing bass, or self studying some random interest he has. But when he has an assignment that requires working on specific parts of art that he really likes, he will hyper focus until it’s perfect in his eyes, which will always score him a 100% score. You can also find him at the library often, or some museum in town and when he gets recognized by those his age as being the bassist of velvet cigarettes he acts modest and pretends like it’s nothing, because he really doesn’t understand the extent that fans like the band. He also tends to help others with homework and studying if he knows they can’t get the hang of what they’re learning as he is generally considerate. He was lucky enough to get a room with his bandmate Chongyun.

▪︎ Chongyun

Chongyun is a major in mythological studies and he’s very diligent in his work because he’s the first in his family to get a proper degree because he lived in the countryside for most of his life. He’s grown up playing the drums so when he joined velvet cigarettes it was his favorite pastime to practice drums and still is. He uses it as a way to perform his emotions out into the world and he’s a very talented drummer. He might tend to shy away from being very vocal in any social events, but if you see him in his true element with his friends you can tell how much they mean to him and vice versa. He rooms with Albedo, but a lot of his time is spent in the College’s music area because that’s where his own drum set is and he’s made it like a second home for him, if we take Kazuha’s apartment out of the picture.

▪︎ Xinyan

Xinyan grew up with parents who performed in a rock band, so she wasn’t hesitant to try and find a band of her own. When she got the chance to join velvet cigarettes she was the most excited person you’d ever meet and she showed off her guitar skills as much as she could, growing a large following for her. If a fan meets her on the street she will treat them like the sweetest person ever, she has a huge heart and constantly shows it in her actions. She’s the mother of the friend group but in the kindest way possible, she buys them treats often and brings them along to events. Xinyan is very social but she’s also very focused in her classes as a foreign language major. She’s rooming with Yunjin and she really looks up to her, but neither realizes the connection they have in their mutual friends.

▪︎ Xiao

Xiao is a photography major, he loves to capture views and nature and share it to others because he believes it’s one of the best ways to share emotions. He recorded a large portion of the music videos for velvet cigarettes and has been with them since they created the band in high school. He lives in an apartment with his girlfriend of a few years, Xai, who occasionally also hangs out with both of the friend groups and happens to be Y/N’s childhood crush. Other than his current friends, he doesn’t really like going to hang out with anyone who’s a stranger to him because he immediately puts his walls up and acts very anti-social, but he cares a lot for the friends he does have and would give the universe for them because otherwise he might not be as successful as he is now.

▪︎ Scaramouche

Scaramouche got lucky with a solo dorm and thank fate for that because otherwise he’d go mental, there’s no way he could share a room. He often stays quiet around other people and so he’s considered ‘the quiet kid’ or the mysterious one that no one knows a thing about, but if you get to know him, he becomes a lot more friendly, embarrassing even. He sucks at socializing and has others do it for him, others being those in the friend group. He’s a longtime fan of velvet cigarettes, as long as Y/N, but he knew that they attended the same college before them. He bumped into Kazuha and the rest while trying to get food and for once in his life spoke up, they’ve been really close friends ever since. He understands that Y/N is an equally big fan once they meet and they often talk about the band and how being a fan is compared to being friends with them. He’s also a big shipper of Kazuha and Y/N, as well as Yunjin and Xinyan, he’s just a big fan boy at the end of the day. He majors in fashion, wanting to design his own clothes and model them as well in the future.

(yes, xinyan has a private account as well, yes i hit the max 10 photos limit that tumblr has... you'll know her priv account when you see it.)

[last-standing-byers]

[Charlie Heaton, Cismale, he/him] who’s that? oh it’s [Jonathan Byers]. I hear they’re [22] and are known as [The Outcast] around [Hawkins, Indiana]. They’re also a [Retail Clerk] at [Melvand’s General Store]. They’re known to be [Selfless + Artistic] and [Withrawn + Lost]. Some people say they remind them of the [red light in Hawkin High’s photography darkroom], [stacks of vinyl], [personalized mixtapes], [and a 1972 Ford LTD].

BASIC STATS

Name: Jonathan Byers

Nickname: Byers.

Age: 22

Birthday: Sept 8th.

Gender/Pronouns: Cismale/he/him/his.

Sexual orientation: heterosexual

Occupation: Retail Clerk at Melvand's General Store

Hobbies: Photography, movies, mixtapes.

Car: Green 1972 Ford Ltd.

RECENT MOVIE RENTALS (OVERDUE CHARGES: 5.37$)

The Shining (1980)

Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

Twilight Zone: The Movie (1983)

Don't Look Now (1973)

Carrie (1976)

RECENT MIXTAPE

Girlfriend In a Coma, The Smiths

Tommy Can You Hear Me, The Who

Space Oddity, David Bowie

She's so Cold, The Rolling Stones

Love Will Tear Us Apart, Joy Division

How Soon Is Now, The Smiths

Who Loves The Sun, The Velvet Underground

Debaser, Pixies

Your Love, The Outfield

HEADCANONS

Jonathan eventually moved back to Hawkins and enrolled in community college. He worked part-time at Melvand’s General Store to pay his tuition and save for a new car.  This seemed like the most rational course of action, after everything, but he soon found himself picking up whatever shifts he could get – day shifts, night shifts, overtime shifts – until he was paralyzed by mountains of unwritten exams and a letter stating the terms of his academic probation. Jonathan was too embarrassed to talk about his financial and school troubles with anyone, especially his family, so he quietly dropped out of college and has been working at Melvand’s ever since. Although he’s embarrassed about dropping out, he is happy to feel somewhat financially stable and now rents his own apartment in town. Jonathan can’t help but wonder what his life would look like if he stayed in college. The thought of spending his entire life in Hawkins terrifies him and he wants to do something that gives his life purpose – and be a good role model for Will.

Jonathan kept in touch with Argyle, but weekly phone calls turned into monthly calls until the phone stopped ringing altogether. One day he’d like to venture back out to California and visit his old friend but he’s not sure they’ll have much in common anymore. Jonathan stopped smoking once he moved back to Hawkins since his work schedule left no room for error or lazy mornings with a bong. Overall, he’s felt better and more level-headed.

Jonathan scrapped up enough cash to purchase a used 1972 Ford Ltd. It is not identical to the dusty grey car he had back in high school, but it is less beat-up. The pale green exterior is starting to grow on him.

Every Friday night, Jonathan picks up a horror film from the local video store. He feels weird about loving thrillers and slashers, especially after experiencing the horror of Will’s disappearance and the upside down, but he loves the thrill this weekly ritual brings to his boring weekends.

[vidrphotography]

Surprise Winter Courthouse Wedding in Durham, NC

~A whimsical surprise elopement in Downtown Durham, NC~

I can confidently say it is not often that I am approached about a surprise elopement, but when Kara reached out to me with this idea I was on board 100%. Kara and Ben had planned on visiting Durham for the Holidays in the Park event at the nearby Museum of Life and Science. Kara approached me with the idea of turning their day trip into a spontaneous elopement and asked if I would be available to capture the day. With surprises it can sometimes be difficult to account for all the details, and things don't always go to plan, but it ended up a beautiful, albeit cold, day.

A Surprise Elopement

When Kara reached out to me, she gave me a brief background on her and Ben’s relationship. The wedding wasn't actually a complete and total surprise, since they were engaged and planning to go to the courthouse as they already had their marriage license. Kara's plan was to stop by the courthouse in Durham on a day they were already planning an overnight trip for a fun event in the city. We had initially discussed taking photos at the event that was bringing them to Durham, the holiday lights at the Museum of Life and Science. Unfortunately, the event did not allow professional photographers, so we decided instead to grab some photos in Downtown Durham.

Durham Courthouse

I do wonder if Kara eventually told Ben before they left, since they got ready separately that morning, each driving to Durham with friends, so they could have a first look together at the courthouse before their ceremony. I am a big fan of first looks; I like that it allows the couple a few moments together before their ceremony on what can otherwise be a busy and hectic day. They decided to keep the ceremony small only inviting the two witnesses to join them at the courthouse. After exchanging vows, signing the papers, and sharing their first kiss, we headed outside to grab some photos outside the courthouse to commemorate this special day.

Downtown Durham

Since it was December, Downtown Durham was adorned in whimsical holiday lights and had the set up the huge Christmas tree in the main square gave us lots of options for backdrops. Kara’s choice of red velvet dress combined with the holiday lights made these photos appear quite festive. During this part of the session, Kara and Ben were joined by their two witnesses so we made sure to take some photos with all four of them and a few duo shots as well. As we casually strolled towards the main town square, we took more pictures with the historic Downtown in the background. At this point, the chilly December wind was starting to get to us, and we decided to venture inside the Durham Main Library for the next portion of this session.

Durham Main Library

Kara and Ben loved the idea of heading to the Durham Main Library to get some more photos due to their love for reading. The new Durham library is such a nice addition to the city, and made for a great backdrop; I always recommend couples choose a location for their photos that fits with their interests that way it will add even more meaning. Libraries are often filled with unique backdrops and make a session that much more unique. I will say, taking photos in a library does have its own challenges, you have to remain pretty quiet to respect those around you and may have to wait for areas to clear before being able to start taking photos. However, it is definitely worth it for the endless possibilities that an extraordinary space such as this one has. If you intend to take photos at the library, make sure you coordinate ahead of time! The librarians and staff will help you pick the best time and make sure you won't be disrupting other library patrons.

Capturing this elopement was such a joy. I had an amazing time wandering around Downtown Durham with this lovely couple and was honored to be a part of such a special surprise.

Vendors:

Photography: Vidr Photography

Venues: Durham County Courthouse

Durham Main Library

View more Durham County Courthouse weddings here.

View more courthouse weddings here.

[stagevalencia7]

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[low-cool]

[bvidzsoo]

White Lilies

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

 Warning: swearing, violence, mentions of death, stalking, breaking in, borderline toxic relationship, allude to some mental health conditions but never named

 Word count: 26, 815

 Summary: Your brother, Kim Doyoung, works for the police. Ever since you finished high school, you moved away from home with him and now you live in a big city. You struggle with different things, but the worst one is the tendency to stalk others. And one day when you walk inside a coffee shop and come across a very handsome stranger, you can’t help yourself, he becomes your next target. Jeon Wonwoo. But he isn’t innocent, you find that out the hard way.

 Taglist: @chal-kagyu​ @taeyongandfree​ @minkwans​ @itsdnguyenxoxo​ @rjsmochii​

 Unable to tag: @cheolliehugs @3rachaonlyfans @leahxxiong

 A/N: Here it is! The spin off to Poison, it can be read as a stand alone, if not check out the mini-series: Poison. Minor things will make more sense. I hope it doesn’t bother you that I tagged you for this too, since it’s connected in some ways. Now, there’s things I have written in this oneshot that are totally not okay and I am very conscious of them, so please, if you ever come across a stalker or someone who harassess you, please report them, your safety is very important. But this is fiction, and I’m allowed to write whatever I want to. All the sentences in italics are the voices that Y/N hears. Enjoy now and don’t forget to leave feeback!

           All mornings were usually the same, it was a routine I became accustomed to a long time again. Five years ago, actually, when Doyoung and I moved away from home. There is only a two-year difference between us, so it was easy for me to follow him, having been already done with high school. Doyoung completed the police academy and he was being promoted, brought to Seoul, so I packed up and left my old life in our hometown. Nothing tied me to that place, I never liked it there. My parents were hot headed and they always argued with me, trying to convince me to become a house wife, to find myself a wealthy man that would care for me and for our family. But it wasn’t what I needed; I had always been a free spirit. I liked to explore and disappear from civilization from time to time. Like in eleventh grade, when I sneaked out and disappeared for ten days, the whole city was looking for me. However, I was living in the woods, by the outskirts of the city, in a small hut with a nice, old lady. She moved there after she gave up her job, because she wanted a peaceful life, surrounded by nature only. When she saw me wandering around, she offered me some tea and I accepted it, surprised to see someone living there. The hut wasn’t deep inside the woods, but it still took me by surprise that a lady like her wasn’t afraid inside there all alone. I wasn’t a big fan of forests, but being surrounded by trees and the green scenery always calmed my erratic nature. It was hard for me to stay still sometimes, that’s why Doyoung and I would regularly go on runs, to try and use up my energy on something. In school, I didn’t do very well, but it didn’t bother me. I was able to finish high school and get a diploma, but I didn’t want to go to college. I found it a waste of time and money, I decided I would find something that I liked doing and would excel in it. And with the help of the old lady from the hut, I realized I had a passion for photography. I got my first camera from her, and ever since then I didn’t stop taking pictures. It became my passion and my hobby, it earned me money. I was known for taking nature pictures, sometimes even of animals, and I had my own little blog where I posted all of my works. Sometimes I’d have my pictures put up in galleries for expositions, I earned well during those events. The small house Doyoung and I lived in, was full of all the pictures I took. We lived in a homey, quiet neighborhood, deep inside the heart of the city. Doyoung earned well and my salary always fluctuated, that’s why I decided to stay with my big brother, at least until I had gathered enough money to live on my own.

The house smelled of bacon and peppermint tea as I opened the window of my room, letting the fresh morning air in. I was already dressed for the day, camera packed safely inside my bag, waiting for a call. I wore dark velvet cotton pants and an oversized grey sweater with a deep V, due to which it fell off my shoulders. Ankle high heel boots and a few necklaces I used as accessories complimented the look. It was becoming warmer and warmer outside, which was great, because I never liked wearing coats. Besides, I rarely needed them, I had the unusual trait of not exactly feeling the cold. I was always underdressed during winter and it scared some people, especially Doyoung because he had the impression that I’d catch a cold, but it’s just how my body was, always too hot. I checked my phone to be sure that Mark didn’t decide to text me instead of calling me, but seeing there was nothing, I closed the window and took my bag, leaving my room. I closed the door after me, a habit I had, and headed inside the kitchen. Doyoung was in his police uniform already, moving around quietly the kitchen.

“Good morning!” I called loudly, sitting at the table, with my chin in my hand.

“Good morning.” Doyoung greeted, quieter, and turned around with a plate and mug in his hands. He placed them in front of me and I grinned, thanking him. I took the fork and dug into my breakfast, humming at how tasty it was. Even if our mornings were always the same, the breakfast wasn’t. Doyoung always had something up his sleeves, either trying out new recipes he searched up late at night, or just trying to replicate mother’s old recipes. I took a sip of the peppermint tea and pursed my lips, giving Doyoung a thumbs up as he closed the stove and turned to sit with his own plate and mug in his hands. He chuckled and mirror my thumbs up, before starting to eat too. We ate in silence, it’s how we were in the mornings, quiet. It was the only time Doyoung could savor the silence, because it was the only time I was silent. My hyperactivity followed me through all stages of life, I still struggled with staying still…that amongst other things.

Doyoung cleared his throat and I glanced at him, before checking my phone again, “What are your plans for today?”

“Ah, the usual.” I answered with a smile, trying to look nonchalant, so that he wouldn’t realize I was lying, “I’ll just go to the park and take some pictures if I find something I like.”

Doyoung nodded and took a bite of his bacon, “Don’t you think it’s time to…find a more stable work?”

“Like what?”

“Getting employed at a studio, maybe? You know…you could go to weddings, birthdays…all kinds of events to take pictures.” Doyoung’s suggestion was friendly, but it still angered me. I left home because I didn’t want to hear the constant nagging of our parents, but here he was, doing the same thing.

“I’m a nature photographer. And I wouldn’t like working inside a studio, or whatever.” I said a little harshly, making Doyoung sigh.

“I’m not judging you or trying to tell you what to do,” He knew how I could react to these things, he knew how much anxiety my parents induced when they would try and tell me what to do with my own life, “It was just a brotherly advice, because I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to!” I exclaimed cheerily, my phone ringing at the same time. I shot my hand out to grab it and answered the phone, already knowing who the caller was.

“Target is getting ready to leave, he’ll be at the same Coffee Shop he was for the past week.” Was all the person said before I hung up, stuffing the rest of the food inside my mouth hurriedly. I scrambled up from the chair and clumsily threw my phone inside my bag, trying to chug down the peppermint tea at the same time.

“Who was that?”

“Just some person trying to sell me something—” A burp I couldn’t control surfaced and Doyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, but I just gave him an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you after work.”

I pressed a hasty kiss against his cheek, then raced to my car and unlocked it, throwing my bag inside before getting in. I would have to get to the Coffee Shop before the target gets there, to choose a good spot. This is what Doyoung didn’t know about me. I wasn’t just a nature photographer, I worked together with his colleague, Mark, whose job was to gather information about the targets the police had. He was really good at it, but sometimes he couldn’t gather enough information by sitting behind a computer. That’s where I come in play, I go out and stalk his targets. A year ago, Doyoung had a gathering with the colleagues he was closer to and I was invited too. Mark got really drunk and I offered to drive him home, that’s when he started telling me about his work. About how he already almost got fired twice, because his information wasn’t good enough or it was lacking. And because I was always seeking new experiences and new adventures, I proposed to help him. Of course, he’d have to pay me, but I’d stalk the targets for as long as he’d need me to. Until all information that was needed was gathered for him, which he could turn into a report and pass onto the higherups. He accepted without a second thought in his drunken haze and I was beyond happy; but I asked him to keep it a secret, especially from Doyoung. If my brother were to find out, he’d definitely either lock me up in our basement or send me back home, both were things I wouldn’t be able to survive. And being in this city was good for me, it was big enough that it distracted me from my other issues. Back in my hometown, everyone knew almost everyone and it was too easy to find someone you wanted to know. Which was bad for me, bad for someone who had stalking tendencies. That’s why I have been working with Mark for a year now, I was just too good, no one ever discovered me or my identity. I knew how to stay low-key and I knew how to work around the targets without them noticing that someone was trailing them almost 24/7. Having this job, it distracted me from getting infatuated with anyone, I didn’t have the time anymore. And it was a lot more thrilling to be trailing different people each month. It was a distraction from the dark voices in my head, which tried telling me that the next man that appeared around the corner could have been the love of my life. Or the woman that I ran into at the flower shop, could have been my soulmate. I hated those thoughts, and I battled with them my whole life. I used to take medication, it silenced them while I was a teen, but it still didn’t stop me from stalking others. So, as I grew older, I stopped taking them and I started spending more time in nature, where I was alone. Photography wasn’t just a job for me, it was my own therapy.

           Everything was set up perfectly, I grinned widely as I leaned back in my seat. My bag was on the chair next to me, the camera placed on the table. For this to work, I needed as many people as there were inside the Coffee Shop to see it. Thankfully, traffic wasn’t bad and I got here five minutes before the target. I sat close to the exit, from where I could see the whole shop well and could run away too if something happened. The target too was really transparent, he sat at the same table he’s been sitting at for the past week. Next to the big windows, behind his table there were a bunch of plants decorating the place and a painting of flowers was hung above it. Which was perfect for me, my plan was coming together. The target has already ordered his coffee, so now it was my time to do something. I took my wallet and walked up to the barista, having hung the camera around my neck. The weight of it was comforting, having worn it for so long, that it became something familiar. I smiled at the barista and looked over the menu behind her, acting like I was thinking of what I wanted, offering her enough time to take in my attire closely.

“I’ll have Caramel Macchiato.” Finally, I told her and she nodded, returning the smile, as I handed her the money.

“A name?” I was glad this wasn’t the barista who took my orders the other times, I didn’t want them to recognize me. I wouldn’t come to this Coffee Shop either way anymore after I was done with this job.

“Y/N.” I answered the barista and she nodded, passing the cup with my name written on it, to her colleague. She printed the receipt and handed it to me, her eyes falling onto my camera. As there was no customer behind me at the moment, she looked at me curiously.

“You’re a photographer?” She asked as the coffee brewer started making loud noises.

“A nature photographer!” I told her with excitement and the barista nodded her head, offering me a friendly smile.

“I tried it once, it wasn’t made for me.” We chuckled at her words and I just shrugged.

“It requires patience and technique, for sure.” I said and she nodded her head in agreement, “By the way…this floral arrangement—”

And then I turned my body sideways, eyes falling on the target. He was just a few feet away, I made sure to speak even louder, so that he would hear me, “The floral arrangement is so pretty! Do you mind if I take pictures of it?”

The barista thought about it as my drink was done and handed to me by the other worker, “I don’t think it’s a problem, go ahead!”

“Thank you!” I bowed my head a little and she bid me farewell. My plan was working, I just needed to do one more thing. So, with the most innocent expression I could muster up, I approached the target. I knew he heard the conversation between me and the barista, but I wanted to make sure he understood what I was about to do.

“Sir, excuse me—” I spoke softly, almost shyly, “Do you mind if I take pictures of this floral arrangement? You won’t be in frame at all.”

“Go ahead.” He answered me with a very uninterested shrug, the wrinkles around his eyes made him look older than the age Mark told me. I bowed my head and placed my Caramel Macchiato on top of his table, turning on my camera. I kneeled on one knee and started snapping photos of the plants, pursing my lips, trying to get the perfect angle. Then I rose to my feet, and took another one, the painting above it being included in the shot too.

“I’ll take some more from my own table, just letting you know…” I spoke up again, but the man wasn’t paying attention to me. I smirked a little, grabbing my drink from his table, cradling it in both of my hands. With a victorious look on my face, I turned with enthusiasm and took a step forward blindly. My body slammed into another body, and we both yelped loudly. Mine was high pitched, but the other one was deep and almost guttural. My heart started thumping in my chest loudly, taken aback by the accident, and hopeful that I didn’t spill my drink on my favorite sweater nor on the person I ran into.

“I’m so—” But when I looked up, I was left breathless. The man standing in front of me was frowning, looking over himself, to check if anything got spilled on him. Thankfully, the lid of the drink was put on really well and the way I was holding the cup stopped it from spilling out. The thumping of my heart became deafening and all I could see suddenly was the man standing in front of me.

He’s the one. Don’t let him slip past your fingertips.

The dark voice, however, quickly snapped me out of the state I almost got lost in. The target, I’m here on a very serious mission, Mark’s counting on me. But the man’s eyes would be forever ebbed inside my mind, I knew I would think about his sharp, fox like eyes before going to sleep tonight…or every night. Round glasses sat on his long nose and he pushed them up with his long fingers, they almost fell off at the impact. When his lips started moving, all I could see was the redness of them and how deep his Cupid’s bow was. Then I snapped out of it, eyebrows furrowing as I totally missed what he just said.

“Uh—I’m really sorry.” I said awkwardly, stepping back when I realized how close our bodies were to each other.

“It’s fine, you didn’t spill any on me…or you.” His eyes went to the sweater I was wearing for a second before he looked back up. His deep voice sent goosebumps down my skin and I very visibly shivered, but I wasn’t cold. The dark blue hoodie this handsome stranger wore seemed to be alright.

“Yeah, I didn’t spill it…” My mind felt like it was made out of gum, I had no coherent thoughts and it made me feel awkward. Taking a last glance at the handsome stranger, noting how his black hair was clumsily parted above his left eye, I bowed, and then willed myself to move away.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

I walked back to my table and took a seat, taking a deep breath in. I can’t let myself get distracted. I run into strangers all the time; this handsome, deep voiced man wasn’t different at all. I couldn’t let the voices get to me, I had to focus on the target. So, I took a big gulp of my Caramel Macchiato and then looked at the target. He was tapping the table almost nervously, so I turned on my camera again and took two pictures of him, then one of the floral arrangement to make sure it didn’t look suspicious. I looked around the Coffee Shop and my eyes fell on the handsome stranger, who was laughing with the barista. What could they have been talking about? The jingling of the door snapped me out of my own thoughts and I watched as a tall woman, wearing a business suit, walked inside. Her hair was in a low ponytail and she looked fairly young, I almost lost interest in her, but then she sat across from the target. I took another picture of the floral arrangement and then snapped a bunch of pictures of the two, making sure the woman’s face could be seen well in all. There was movement in the corner of my eyes and I saw the stranger sitting at a table close to the front desk.

You should snap a picture of him too.

I cleared my throat and took another sip of my drink, the target and the young woman got up from their table, and I quickly went to grab my bag and pushed my camera inside. As I stood up, a name was called.

“Wonwoo?” And I saw the handsome stranger stand up and walk up to the barista to take his drink. Wonwoo, that’s his name. But I shook my head and waved at the barista with a cheerful smile as I quickly left the Coffee Shop, eyes narrowing to see the couple. To my luck, they were walking on the other side of the road, so I remained on this side and fished out my camera.

So, you’ll leave Wonwoo for that pathetic old man and the woman? He’s not more important?

I shook my head and snapped a few pictures as I walked on the sidewalk, getting to a cross. I crossed the road and cursed when they disappeared around the corner, I had to speed up; and threw the cup in the trash bin as I have finished my drink. I looked around once I turned the corner and panicked for a second, thinking I lost the target. But suddenly, I spotted them sitting on a bench in the park, so I headed that way. I started taking pictures of the river and the few birds sitting by the shore, then of the trees that have blossomed already. The white cherry blossoms were beautiful and I smiled to myself as a light breeze brushed my hair. Then I willed myself to focus again and turned the camera towards the target and the woman, who had decided to take a walk. There was a decent distance between them and I, and to anyone else, it would look like I’m taking pictures of the nature; which I was still kind of doing. The couple walked around for at least five minutes, and I decided to sit on a bench and watch them from there, putting on my shades as the sun was directly in front of me. I was just about to snap a picture of a little duck family, but the woman leaned in towards the target and I quickly started snapping pictures of them. It looked like she whispered something in his ear and then a kiss was pressed against the target’s cheek and the woman walked the opposite way they have come in. I snapped pictures of her alone too before turning back towards the target, who was on his phone. He was on the other side of the river, and I couldn’t have reached him in time, or follow him, my car was ten minutes away from here. So, I just continued snapping more pictures, and my eyebrows furrowed when someone got into the frame. The black hair covered the side of the picture, and I moved a little to the left, leaning against the trunk of a tree. I snapped pictures of the license plate and of the target as he got inside the car, seeing someone already inside of it. I smirked to myself as the car drove away and pulled my phone out, going to my contacts. I pressed the icon next to the name ‘Money Bag’ and it dialed the number.

“Anything?” Mark picked up on the first ring.

“A young chick showed up, but they split up and I lost both. My car wasn’t close enough.”

“That’s fine, where are you now?”

“At the park, by the river.”

“Okay, meet me in front of the town hall.” I hung up and placed everything inside my bag as I started walking back to my car, enjoying the weather and the warm sunlight. Spring was finally around the corner, it was the perfect time to snap pictures of nature, or at least, my favorite time. As a second thought, I took my camera into my hands and turned it on, curious of how the nature pictures turned out. I scrolled past the ones of the target and woman, and chuckled when the one with the ducks came into view. They were cute, people would like this. As I continued looking through the pictures, the ones where someone got into them, made me frown. I was about to delete them, but my finger paused. Black hair, sharp jaw, long nose, round glasses.

You know you can’t delete it. You can’t fight the urge, can’t you? Wonwoo’s the one, listen to us!

           The town hall wasn’t far from the park, so I didn’t bother driving there. Besides, I liked taking walks. It helped with calming me, even though I was desperately in need of a run right now. After waking up, Doyoung and I go straight for a run, but I slept in this morning and I’m sure Doyoung woke up later too as he worked until late last night. He said his boss, Sana, was making him work extra hours because she was sniffing around a very powerful mafia leader. I was aware of the illegal things some people did, sometimes the people I had to stalk for Mark weren’t the brightest, I was well aware of that, but I was never offered information about them. It was Mark’s way of protecting me from harm, which I didn’t think did much. If I was caught, they wouldn’t care if I knew or not things about them, I probably would have been still tortured. Which is why I asked Mark to keep the details to himself, if I knew that I was stalking a mafia leader or some other gang member, I probably would’ve been too scared to go through with the procedure.  

I was shifting my weight from one leg to another as I stood waiting around for Mark, pouting when I looked down at my wrist watch. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes; I was becoming really bored. I took my phone and sent a text to Doyoung, checking up on him.

From Doyoung: Just had my lunch break, I’ll be heading back to work. It’s possible I’ll be back late once again.

To Doyoung: No problem, I’ll leave some dinner for you.

From Doyoung: What are you up to?

To Doyoung: I’ll be going for a run in a few minutes, see you at home!

From Doyoung: Take care of yourself!

I smiled and as I looked up, Mark was walking towards me. I started waving at him with a big grin, my phone almost fell from my grip, but I managed to steady it. Mark was wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie, with a black baseball cap on his head. If this was him trying to be casual, he was failing.

“Stop drawing attention to us!” He said with a hiss as he came to a stop in front of me and I frowned.

“That’s not how you should treat someone so important to your team.” I said and Mark rolled his eyes, extending one hand. He was gripping some cash and I took it with a grin, quickly placing it inside my bag.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” I said teasingly and Mark rolled his eyes again, I handed him the memory card, “Take good care of it! And don’t delete the other pictures I took; some came out really well!”

“I won’t.” He said with a grin and then looked down at the card, “Your job is done here, wait until I contact you again. You could go on a vacation or something.”

I laughed quietly, giving Mark a look, “Yes, captain, I might just do that.”

Mark shook his head before taking off with a wave, I waved back and then turned to walk inside the second-hand shop. I greeted the lady and told her I just wanted to change inside the cabin, so she left me alone. I changed my normal attire into my running one. Yoga pants and adidas, a black top with a fluffy hoodie over it. I pulled my hair in a low bun and stuffed everything inside my big bag, it’s why I carried it around. Random runs were the best, always exciting as I never knew where I felt like going for one. I smiled at the lady from front desk as I left the shop, heading for my car. The walk was quick because I tried to hurry up, excited to go for the run. Once I got to my car, I placed my bag inside and then locked it, having my phone and keys in the pocket of the hoodie. I headed back to the park where I took the pictures of the target and woman, and first did a little warm up. I stretched my legs out and back a little, and then started running. I took steady breaths as I ran down the path, my pace not very fast but not slow either. My heartrate picked up as I continued running and I marveled in the peace around me. The scenery brought a smile onto my lips as I ran past some couples; I willed my mind to stop thinking. It was a hard thing to do at first, I was always thinking of something, but I had to learn due to the dark voices that would sometimes push me into doing things. I could ignore them, now better than when I was younger, but it was still difficult. The problem was, they could drive me crazy, I couldn’t ignore them forever, and in times like those, I would disappear. Doyoung hated it when I did that, but I haven’t had an episode like that in long.

But you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo. You want him, you know it. You can’t lock us away anymore, Y/N, we are here. Wonwoo wants you too. Didn’t you see the way he looked at you? He fell for you, Y/N, listen to us once again. Do it. Just ask Mark. He’ll find him in a second for you. You didn’t delete his picture; you have his name—

A loud shout left my lips as I tumbled over some rocks that were on the path, but thankfully I didn’t fall. My eyebrows furrowed as I crouched down to hug my knees against my chest. I can’t let the voices get to me. I can’t let one stranger fuck up what I built up with so much struggle. I couldn’t let a stranger rule my life. I wouldn’t let the voices get to me, no matter what. I was stronger than that. With a deep breath, chest rising and falling quickly, I turned around and started running back. The energy burst I had this morning seemed to have disappeared, which was a good sign. I would have to take a bath at home and then cook some dinner, edit the pictures I took today after Mark drops off the memory card and post them on my blog. Well, that settles it then, I smiled as I came to the end of the path. I slowed down to a walk and took deep breaths, leveling my breathing. I turned to walk on the sidewalk and felt the breeze brush my hair once again, making me shiver a little bit. My body was warm from the run and I concluded that sitting inside my warm car while I was sweaty was probably a better idea than spending more time outside, in the cold breezy weather. But my mind went numb when I saw the black-haired man sitting on a bench with a book in his hands. My feet were still moving, but it felt like I wasn’t in control of it anymore. The Universe was really testing me today. I bit my lower lip and unconsciously grabbed my phone inside my pocket.

No, the Universe is doing for you what you didn’t want to do, Y/N. He’s right there, sitting on that bench, waiting for you. How could you let this opportunity slip past your fingertips? You want it, so do it.

I didn’t realize it until it was too late, my finger had already pressed the button, a picture of Wonwoo having been taken. I hated myself for doing it, but it felt like all stress finally left my body. I felt at ease, I wasn’t fighting with my thoughts anymore, with the dark voices. In the end, I really didn’t have a choice but to fall back into my old habits. And I was doing so well, until Wonwoo showed up. What will Doyoung think if he finds out? I can’t be sent to a psychic ward again, it wouldn’t help. They never help; I hate the medication they give me. I can survive without them too. Maybe if I stalk him for a week or two, I can get rid of the voices and go back to how I was before meeting him. But I pressed the button again, another picture snapped of Wonwoo. I wasn’t walking anymore, I was rooted in one place, mouth hanging open as I gazed at Wonwoo in awe. I must have looked hilarious, crazy even, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look away; I couldn��t even move. But then suddenly, he didn’t flip the page of the book like he was planning to do, instead, he looked up. And his eyes fell on me, as if he felt that I was looking at him, and I jumped. His furrowed eyebrows snapped me out of my delirium, his sharp gaze sent a shiver down my spine and suddenly I found myself running away. I didn’t care what he thought, I was ashamed that I let the voices control me; it was time I headed home. It would be safer for everyone else if I just stayed at home.

That’s our girl, you’re doing amazing.

           The first thing I did once I got home was clean the house, my blood was boiling as I lost grip of the voices, which kept celebrating for I have taken those two pictures of Wonwoo in the park. In that rage, I deleted them from my phone and threw my phone in the trash bin I had in my room, slamming the door shut as I went to the bathroom to grab what I needed to clean the house. I turned on music, played it loudly too, blocking out the noises coming from outside, but the voices in my mind too. Due to my rage, I was done in almost two hours, it usually would take longer if someone tried to clean the house alone, we had a lot of stuff despite it not being a big house. Once I calmed down, I went to the kitchen and made some ramen, sweet potatoes made in the oven, and some seasoned pork. I went and bought beer for Doyoung and myself, and after putting them in the fridge, I decided to check my phone to see if anyone tried looking for me. It was six in the afternoon and I hoped Doyoung didn’t think that I was kidnapped…well, he’d actually know that. For my own safety, he installed an app on my phone that could track me. I only accepted it because I knew he worried a lot about me, Doyoung and I had a strong bond and the episodes I had always broke him mentally, I tried to be a better person for him too.

From Doyoung: I don’t think the ramens in the cupboard are still edible. Text me if you get home!

To Doyoung: Well, I cooked those ramens, so now they are edible! Sorry, I cleaned the house so I wasn’t around my phone…

From Doyoung: Cleaned the house? Are you feeling alright?

I chuckled at the fast reply, no surprise Sana made him stay plus hours if he hung on his phone while on duty.

To Doyoung: Don’t worry, I’m feeling perfectly fine! I hope Sana pays you well if you stay after working hours!

From Doyoung: Don’t worry about that, she stays with me.

To Doyoung: Oh! Someone’s getting it!

I laughed as Doyoung started typing back, imagining his angry and flustered face.

From Doyoung: Don’t be silly, Y/N!

To Doyoung: Okay, bye!

I laughed as I walked to the bathroom, turning on the warm water to have a bath. After the long day I had today, I deserved a warm, relaxing bath. I got a message from Mark, a thumbs up, and I knew the memory card was in the mailbox, so I quickly jumped into some shoes and ran outside to retrieve it. I locked the front gate, Doyoung had keys too, and then hurried back inside the house. I placed the memory card on my desk and then proceeded to undress while walking back to the bathroom. I turned the faucet off and threw some bath salts into the water, pulling my hair in a high bun. I shut the blinds of the bathroom and sighed, biting my lower lip. Would it be so bad if I asked Mark to look up Wonwoo a little bit? I wouldn’t try to do anything, I just wanted to know him better? I wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? I picked up my phone reluctantly as I sat on the side of the bathtub, easing my legs into the water. I went to my gallery and to the pictures I deleted, they didn’t get instantly deleted from my phone, they were stored there for another month before finally getting deleted off the device. I selected the two pictures of Wonwoo and sent them to Mark.

To Mark: His name is Wonwoo. Remember that favor you have going on? Return it by looking this guy up.

I threw the phone onto the clothing pile that was on the ground by the bathtub and lowered myself into the water, feeling bad that I couldn’t resist the urge. It was too easy with Mark, when I was a teenager, I would do everything by myself. It was thrilling to run after someone, watch them from a distance not knowing if they would notice you or not. And if they indeed noticed you, you could always play it off somehow. But this was safer, I couldn’t risk falling back into my old habits. It was like gambling or drugs…you needed rehabilitation from it, but the yearning never really goes away. I hated myself for doing this, but without the medication I so refused to take, I wasn’t strong enough. I wouldn’t admit that to others or myself, living in a lie was always easier. But tonight, I would allow myself to live in a fantasy.

·       Name: Jeon Wonwoo

·       Birth date: 1996. 07.17.

·       Height: 1,82 m

·       Siblings: Kim Mingyu, apparently they are both adopted

·       Job: Chauffeur of a business man

·       Places he’s frequently seen at: National library, Sunday Gym, Red Corner bookstore, various parks around his neighborhood, hiking trails around the forest, Soul BBQ, Sky Blue headquarters

·       Car: red Mercedes CLS class

·       Additional things I found about him: It seems like he has thirteen close friends, he lives with his adopted brother; but I couldn’t find the address anywhere. Surveillance cameras say that he usually goes to read in the park, by the river, and he drinks a lot of coffee. I’m pretty sure he wears glasses, but there’s few pictures of him wearing it. I’m sorry, Y/N, for some reason this is everything I could find about him. He’s got a clean record, and even the little information I gave you I could barely find. Something’s fishy, but maybe he really isn’t that interesting. I wouldn’t bother with someone like him. P.S. Don’t tell anyone I helped you gain information on him, they’ll fire me!

       The birds chirping were the first thing I heard as I woke up, then the hurried knocks on my door. I groaned loudly, voice hoarse from having just woken up, and the knocking stopped.

“Get up, it’s almost 9 am!” Doyoung’s voice called from the other side of the door and I sighed, burying my head in my pillow, “I’m heading in to work later. I can drive you to wherever you want to go, if you want me to.”

That definitely got my attention as I raised my head, “Okay!”

I cleared my throat and jumped up into a seated position, looking around my bed. Printed pictures lingered scattered around the blanket and my laptop was on the verge of falling off, so I grabbed it and got out of bed. I walked to my desk and placed it on top of it, leaning against the edge of the glass. I looked down at the pictures that were on my bed and decided, that I would do this. I stayed up until late night to research myself as much as I could about Wonwoo, but he had no social media. I found a few yearbook photos of him, but they didn’t help with much. Mark was right, he seemed to be a very boring person…he almost felt like a ghost, like his real identity was buried deep down. And that was exciting, so, if Doyoung had already offered to give me a lift, I could just head to the Red Corner bookstore and check it out for myself. Hopefully, Wonwoo would be there. I still don’t know his schedule, but if I start lurking around the places Mark told me about, I can very easily follow Wonwoo around once he shows up.

After having breakfast with Doyoung, we both got dressed and I gave him instructions to the Red Corner bookstore and we were off, rolling down the busy streets of the city. My fingers were tapping against my knees in excitement as I tried to stay still, trying not to alert Doyoung that I was feeling excited about something. But he was my brother, and he noticed.

“I didn’t know going to a bookstore could make you excited.” He raised an eyebrow and I chuckled, shaking my head.

“It’s not that, I’m just in a good mood!” I tried to lie, but Doyoung just shook his head; I knew he didn’t believe me.

“So…now you suddenly like to read?” He asked with a teasing grin and I scoffed, turning to look at him.

“What do you mean?” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I always liked to read!”

“Fashion magazines, maybe.” I huffed and it made Doyoung laugh as he drove through an intersection. Once Doyoung was done laughing, he cleared his throat and briefly glanced at me.

“You wouldn’t be so excited about books unless you’re stalking someone.” I failed to pick up on the playfulness in his voice, the way he bit his lower lip to try and stay serious. My heart started suddenly beating really fast and my grip tightened around the seatbelt, my whole body became tense. How did he realize? Did he walk inside my room while I was sleeping? Was it something in my words that gave it away? Did I get worse at hiding my feelings? I could feel Doyoung’s gaze on me, but I couldn’t move out of fear. I was scared of what was coming next and ashamed. But then, Doyoung gasped and I had to look at him.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, panic lacing his words, and I became confused, “I didn’t mean to say that—I—I worded that so badly, Y/N—”

“Oh,” I chuckled, trying to collect myself, “No, it was a joke! I totally get it!”

I couldn’t believe I almost gave myself away. He had no idea; he was just teasing me! I chuckled again, feeling at ease as I turned to look at Doyoung again. “Seriously, I totally got your joke!”

“I’m still sorry—” My laughter interrupted Doyoung and he just shook his head, still looking guilty.

“I could become an actress if my reaction made you react like this.” But in truth, my reaction was genuine and I was so thankful that Doyoung didn’t realize that. He could read people very easily, but maybe as he was driving he couldn’t focus fully, which was great for me. Doyoung sighed and he pulled up to the sidewalk, looking at the Red Corner bookstore, which was just across the road. I smiled and unbuckled the seatbelt; I pressed a kiss against Doyoung’s cheek then got out. He offered me a small wave before driving away. I took a deep breath and smiled, looking around the street. It didn’t look like a very busy neighborhood; a few people were walking here and there. To my right there were many narrow alleys that lead to the main road, and I took off down the street. Why would Wonwoo come to a bookstore in this side of the city if he could go to the big one at the mall? Wonderingly, I crossed the street and carefully approached the bookstore. It wasn’t open yet, so I figured I could go to the coffee shop I saw while Doyoung drove us here. The bookstore would only open in half an hour, I still had time. I walked down the street with a skip in my steps, smiling widely. I had a feeling today was going to be a successful day, but for that I needed Mark to leave me alone. I was hoping he wouldn’t get a new case for at least a week, the potentiality of following Wonwoo around without him knowing had me in a very good mood. Sleeping on the choices I took yesterday definitely did well, I wasn’t feeling as bad about as I was yesterday. Yes, it was still wrong what I was doing, but as long as no one got harmed, it wasn’t something very bad!

I entered the coffee shop and walked to the front desk, ordering my usual drink of choice. When it was done, I walked to a table and took a seat, it was by the window, and took a sip of the Caramel Macchiato. I watched the people who passed by and took another sip, relaxing in the chair, feeling content. The melody playing in the shop was pleasant and I bobbed my head to the rhythm. The bell chimed and I watched the beautiful girl that walked in, her hair was dark brown and wavy. She had bangs and she was tall, definitely a beauty.

You could follow her too, she’s your type. If Wonwoo backfires, you have an alternative.

I almost laughed out loud at the words whispered to me by the dark voices, feeling truly entertained. It was so easy to find someone, like I said, it could be literally anyone. If I found them attractive, nothing was stopping me from stalking them. But I shook my head, took another sip of the drink, and ignored the voices. I wouldn’t let them take full control over me. And as the beautiful girl waited at the front desk, my back straightened as a very familiar red Mercedes came into view. It was Wonwoo’s car. My heart started thumping quickly and for a second I didn’t know what do to, so I relaxed into the seat, trying to stay low-key. The beautiful girl saw my sudden reaction and she looked at me concerned, but I just smiled at her, trying to show her that I was fine. When she turned her back on me, I grabbed my phone and quickly went to the camera, snapping a picture through the window. Wonwoo couldn’t be seen, all windows of the car were tinted, but he didn’t get out. I quickly locked my phone when I heard the heels of the girl getting closer as she walked by me and I waited patiently until she was out of the shop before I sprung onto my feet. My knees accidentally knocked into the table and it took the barista off guard, I hurriedly went up to her and handed back the now empty glass, thanking her for her services. She gave me a funny look but I ignored her as I almost ran out of the coffee shop.

“Bye!” I called to her with a wave before exiting, and stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. Wonwoo’s car was still there, but I didn’t know if he was in there or not, so walking up to it would have been too risky.

Oh, here comes the fun we’ve been all missing.

My whole body was shaking in excitement as I thought of my next move, deciding to walk by the bookstore. I could peek inside and see if Wonwoo was in there or not, the windows were big enough to see everything from the outside. So, I started moving, fingers tapping against my palm anxiously, heart thumping wildly. This was always exciting, but also nerve wrecking. I had to move without being seen…or recognized. But, I was sure Wonwoo had already forgotten my face, I was just an ordinary, clumsy girl who almost spilled her coffee on him.

No, the image of your face has been forever printed into his mind, Y/N. He’s watching you, just like you are watching him.

I stopped walking, the woman behind me almost ran into me as she was taken off by my sudden lack of movement. She gave me a glare, but I ignored her. I was right in front of the bookstore and my heart was beating even faster. What did the voices mean? Does Wonwoo know that I’m stalking him? That can’t possibly be true…why would he…

Are you the only person that stalks in this world?

I shook my head and closed my eyes for a second, trying to block the voices. The thought of that creeped me out and I didn’t want to think about being possibly stalked. Then I mustered the courage and looked inside, seeing two girls at the front desk. No trace of Wonwoo, however, as I looked around the place. Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I walked by and rounded the corner, leaning against the red cobblestone wall. Well, if Wonwoo wasn’t inside, he must still be in his car. Which is bad, because Doyoung drove me here. I didn’t think I’d have success on my first day of keeping my eyes on him, so I didn’t find coming with a car necessary. But now, I regretted my decision. With a sigh, I took my phone in my hand and was about to search for a cab, but then I heard laughter. Deep laughter. Coming from around the corner. My heart skipped a beat as I peeked around the corner, he was standing there. Wearing light blue jeans and a turtleneck, his dark hair in his eyes and round glasses sitting high up on the bridge of his nose. I quietly exhaled, taken by the sight in front of me. Wonwoo laughed again, his voice was still deep, his laughter was short but warm. The way his lips pulled up into a huge smile it melted away the cold expression I’ve seen him have in the pictures I found of him. His eyes didn’t look as menacing anymore. Not even realizing that I was doing it, I snapped a few pictures, hopeful that I caught his smiling face. But he was with the beautiful girl, and she was touching his arm. So then does Wonwoo have a girlfriend? And it’s the beautiful girl from the coffee shop? It isn’t impossible.

You could have both…or you could get rid of one…

“Shut up!” I hissed, and quickly ducked back behind the red cobblestone wall, scared that they heard me. They were a good distance away, and there was noise on the street, but I could never be too sure. I hated the dark voices, especially when they suggested getting rid of someone. I could never do it; I didn’t want to. I would go too low, I would disappoint Doyoung so much. If I killed someone, he’d be the one putting me behind bars. I didn’t want to see the pain on his face, pain I caused for him. I didn’t want him to suffer or worry for me anymore, he’s had enough of it while we were still young kids.

The slamming of the bookstore door snapped me out of my thoughts and nervously, I peeked around the corner again, seeing Wonwoo walking away. He was headed towards his car, so I didn’t bother following him at first, but when he went past it without getting in, I grinned. He wasn’t leaving just yet, that means I can follow him around! Fixing my hair and keeping my phone in my hand for comfort, I took off after Wonwoo, keeping a safe distance between us.

And I had a very successful day. Wonwoo stayed in the neighborhood for three hours, just walking around. I snapped plenty of pictures of him, ones I would have to copy on my laptop the second I got home and delete them off my phone. He did go and had breakfast at a tiny local restaurant, which had amazing food by the way. They had some traditional cake that I haven’t eaten before, and I made a mental note to return there from time to time. Maybe with Doyoung, he’s always had a sweet tooth. Then Wonwoo went for a short walk in the park, before he went back to the bookstore. He came out with a book and then went behind the bookstore, to a playground, sat underneath a big willow tree and read. For two hours, he didn’t move from there. His hair was moved by the breeze from time to time, his lips pursed sometimes, and eyebrows furrowed every once in a while. His glasses kept falling off and he had to push them up every five minutes. I’m assuming when something was interesting or tense, he’d bite his lip or thumb, eyes running over quickly the words on the white pages. I took a picture and I was able to see the title of the book, ‘I’ll be gone in the dark’. So, he was into crime books, I looked up and smiled in his direction. He just became more and more mysterious. I was aching to know who he truly was, what he truly liked, I was yearning to hear his beautiful laughter again. And as if Wonwoo finally noticed that someone was watching him, he looked up. And he looked at me. We made eye contact, my heart started beating like crazy, my hands shook.

What will you do now Y/N? Isn’t this just thrilling?

But suddenly a tap on my knee made me jump. I looked down confused and saw a little boy grinning up at me. My eyebrows rose as I watched him; he had his hands behind his back.

“Hello?” I asked confused, glancing around to see if he was with anyone. A couple elderly people were by the entrance of the playground, chatting. He was probably with one of them.

“Hi!” The boy said shyly and I offered him a warm smile.

“Can I help you? Are you lost?” I asked him, making sure that he wasn’t here alone.

“No.” He shook his head with a chuckle, then looked down. I chuckled and looked at him confused; he was shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“You’ve been sitting here for a long time,” He suddenly said as he looked back at me, “Aren’t you cold?”

I didn’t know how to answer him, he took me off guard. What was a little boy doing, talking to a stranger?

“My jacket is thick, I’m not cold—”

“Do you like that man?” When the little boy suddenly pointed at Wonwoo, my heart jumped into my throat. I was praying he wasn’t looking my way anymore, and thankfully; he wasn’t. Actually, he was gone. Disappointment settled in and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, trying to spot him.

“He’s gone.” I whispered, standing up abruptly. My legs were sore, my ass actually hurt. I should have moved around, not sat there unmoving for two hours straight.

“This is for you.” The little boy chuckled and I looked back down at him; he was holding a little white flower. I took it from him confused, but he just grinned at me and then ran off. What a strange encounter that was. But after that, I went back to the bookstore, and Wonwoo’s car was gone. He had left. That meant I was done for the day, he could’ve been anywhere, and I was actually really cold. So, I called a cab and went home, changed and then went for a long run. I needed to clear my mind, block the voices that were so violently trying to dictate me my next move. I wouldn’t let them rule over me, I was the one in charge of myself and my actions.

After I got home, I showered and cooked some dinner, then I sat in the living room with the TV on as I copied all the pictures I took of Wonwoo onto my laptop. My cheeks felt warm as I looked at them again. I printed two, one where Wonwoo was smiling and one while he was sitting underneath the tree. The breeze had picked up and his hair was blown all around, he was pushing up his glasses, his lips in a tight line. The pictured offered me calmness and as I was looking at it, the front door got unlocked. Franticly, I closed my laptop and threw the two pictures into the folder I was using to store everything I had on Wonwoo. Doyoung looked tired as he walked inside and I was standing very awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

“Hi!” I called out loudly and he looked up, taken aback by my presence there.

“Uh, hi.” He greeted back, giving me a questioning look but I just giggled.

“I cooked dinner!” I tried to diffuse the awkwardness and Doyoung started grinning.

“Thank God, I didn’t have lunch today, I’m starving!” He said as he pushed his shoes off.

“It’s important to have lunch.” I said as I walked to the fridge, taking out the food I had prepared.

“Yeah, but according to Sana, so is raiding the Sky-Blue headquarters.” Doyoung said defeated and my eyebrows furrowed. Where have I heard that name before?

“Why? What’s there?” I asked curiously as Doyoung took off towards his room.

“The mafia Sana is sniffing around.” And with that he went inside his room to change and come to have dinner. But the report from Mark said that Wonwoo frequents that place often. Why? Does he maybe know there’s a mafia inside there? Or is he oblivious to it?

And you thought he was boring? Aren’t things getting more and more interesting?

“How was your day?” I slammed the plates on the table and it made Doyoung wince. I gave him an apologetic grin as I placed two forks and some napkins too next to the plates.

“Uneventful,” I said with a sigh, going to the living room to grab my stuff, “I’ll be right back, I’ll just put these in my room.”

Doyoung hummed as he took a seat at the table, placing food on his plate. I hurried to my room, clutching the file tightly to make sure it wouldn’t open and free its contents onto the floor as I carried the laptop in my other hand. I entered my room and went towards my desk, placing my laptop on top of it. The file I placed on a shelf of my bookcase and as I was about to leave I noticed how the temperature was a bit colder than in the other rooms. Looking around, I noticed my window was slightly open and with a sigh, I went and closed it and locked it. It wasn’t unlike me to forget to close it back if I happened to open it up. And just as I turned around to leave the room for good, my eyes stopped on my nightstand. Five white lilies were placed in a tall glass with water. I remained rooted to the spot, warmness spreading in my chest. It’s been long since I got flowers from someone. How did Doyoung get these in here without me noticing the flowers when he got inside the house? I chuckled and shook my head as I went to have dinner, stomach churning loudly. It felt nice to get flowers. Even if they were from my brother.

           I should have taken Mark’s offer and went on that vacation he proposed, but my mind wouldn’t let me do that. I had a new mission, and it was following Wonwoo around. For a whole week I was vigilant enough that he didn’t notice me and now I knew his habits. In the mornings, he’d take that beautiful girl to the bookstore and then go buy himself coffee. Sometimes he’d go back to that park and read for a few hours, other times he’d leave and go to the gym. He would spend a lot of time at the Sky-Blue headquarters and drive his boss to less or more sketchy places. His boss was Kim Mingyu, it crossed my mind to research him too and follow him around for a day or two, but he was giving me bad vibes. When I trailed after Wonwoo’s car when he was with Mingyu, I felt like the two knew I was there. Sometimes, they’d drive around in the same neighborhood twice and I would have to take different turns in order to make it seem like I wasn’t following them…but it almost always led me to lose them. After Wonwoo was done with his work, he’d go to the national library and spend hours there, so much, that I was starting to worry that he’d fall ill from not eating and drinking enough. In fact, he barely ate anything all day, maybe he did it somehow when I wasn’t watching, otherwise I can’t explain how he remained energetic and standing for the whole day. On the third day of watching him, I decided to enter the library myself and try and find a book that I would enjoy. He switched from the book he was reading to a different one, in fact, every day he read something different. It was confusing, and I was dying to ask him why…but the right moment hadn’t come for it yet. One day, I got so immersed in my own book that I totally forgot about keeping my eyes on Wonwoo too and when I looked up from my book, Wonwoo was gone from his usual spot. I looked around a little too frantically, my knees bouncing fast. I waited for two more minutes before I sprung up onto my feet and took off towards the section I took the book I was reading from. I heard hushed laughter coming from nearby but I was busy trying push the book back in its place, so busy, that I totally missed the deep tone of the laughter. When I finally had the book in its original place, I turned and took off pretty much running, which led me into stumbling forward as my shoes got caught in the carpet. I gasped and ran into the bookshelves in front of me, barely catching myself from falling.

“Are you alright?” A feminine voice asked, and as I turned to answer them, my heart stopped beating. The woman was standing next to Wonwoo and they were both looking at me confused and concerned. I gulped and suddenly my throat was dry as my eyes jumped from the woman to Wonwoo and then back at the woman and then again to Wonwoo. I was waiting for him to point at me and yell that I’m a psycho stalker, but he just looked confused and I quietly sighed.

“Yeah, sorry!” I said awkwardly and bowed my head quickly before turning around and running away embarrassed. It was good that Wonwoo had no recollection of my face, it means that he didn’t pay much attention to me at the Coffee Shop and he also didn’t know that I was pretty much stalking him. As much as stalking Wonwoo made my week better and definitely uplifted my mood, the highlight of my week were the daily white lilies I was finding in my room each evening. I didn’t know how Doyoung was doing it, I could swear I saw him enter empty handed each evening, but maybe he was turning into a magician and was trying his tricks out on me. I didn’t say anything to him, wanting to act oblivious to his nice act if he wouldn’t say something first. But I had my concerns regarding Wonwoo and the relationship between him and the beautiful girl from the bookstore. She worked there and seeing them each morning together gave me the impression that they were on really good terms…possibly even dating, even though I’ve only seen them hugging. So, for that, to check it myself, I had a plan. I bought a copy of the book I saw Wonwoo reading in the park and one morning, on a Tuesday when I knew Wonwoo wouldn’t be the one giving a lift to the beautiful girl, I headed inside the bookstore.

The bell chimed loudly and it was warm inside. The radio was playing through the speakers at a low volume and the girl I was here for was at the front desk. My eyes fell on her and I noticed how she hasn’t had curly hair ever since that day I saw her in the Coffee Shop. She was concentrated on her phone, smiling as she typed quickly. I cleared my throat and walked up to the front desk, leaning against it. It took her a second to realize that someone was standing there, looking at her.

“Oh, hi!” She had a powerful voice; it didn’t take one long to realize she was a confident person. I smiled at her kindly and tapped my fingers against the counter.

“Hi…” I looked around quickly, feigning nervousness, “I’m sorry to bother you here…”

Then I looked at her name tag and read her name, “Hyemi, pretty name! Anyways…uhm, this book…”

I grabbed it out of my bag and placed it on top of the counter, “Wonwoo borrowed it to me and well…I’ve had it for too long and I want to return it.”

“Oh, you know Wonwoo?” Hyemi’s eyebrows rose as she took the book from me and looked at it, “I’ve seen this one laying around in his house.”

Oh, so she knows where Wonwoo lives. And she was there too. You knew this was coming, Y/N, but are you ready to face the consequences? What if you have to give up both? You can always get rid of one of them…you know it’s not hard…

“I’ve met him at the library, sometimes we talk,” I said with a shrug and took the book back from Hyemi, “he recommended it to me.”

I was hoping she didn’t see the tightness of my jaw as I tried to ignore the evil voices. They were urging me to grab the girl by the hair and drag her away. I couldn’t do that; I wasn’t like that anymore. And nothing was sure yet. They can be friends; friends hang out together in their apartments all the time. I can’t jump to conclusions just yet. And I’ve never seen Wonwoo spend time with her except for when he drops Hyemi off in the mornings.

“He really likes doing that!” Hyemi said with a roll of her eyes and I chuckled, putting the book away.

“He does, but it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She hummed and we looked behind her when there was a click. Another breathtakingly beautiful woman walked into the room and I couldn’t help but gape at her. Her lips were red and her long brown hair was in a low ponytail, eyeliner on her eyelids. She looked amazing, I cleared my throat and quickly read her name tag. Irene.

“Everything alright?” She asked with authority in her voice and I found myself nodding very quickly, but Hyemi just chuckled.

“Yes, I was just talking to—” Then both women looked at me and I was lost for a second, feeling flustered. My fingers tapped against the counter quickly and I realized they were waiting for me to tell them my name.

“Y/N!” I exclaimed and my cheeks became warm, “Uhm, my name is Y/N.”

“Wonwoo borrowed Y/N a book and she wants to return it.” Hyemi said with a smile and Irene hummed, looking me over quickly. Then she offered me a small smile and her stern expression melted away. It eased my nerves a little and I offered her a similar smile.

“Right, so…could you give me his address?” I asked, very innocently, as I looked Hyemi in the eyes. She knows where Wonwoo lives, I’m a little bothered by that but at least now I’ll find out his address too. But her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at me apologetically.

“Sorry, I don’t think I should just tell you that…without Wonwoo’s consent at least—”

“Oh, right!” I exclaimed and looked down embarrassed, “That was really…a dumb request, don’t worry! I totally get it!”

“Not to be mean—”

“No! It’s fine, you’re right!” I waved my hands in the air and Irene chuckled as she watched the exchange between us. I took a step back and played with my fingers as I tried to keep on an embarrassed expression.

“I’ll give it back to him when I meet him at the library.”

“Are you sure? You could give it to me and I’ll—”

“I’m sure.” I interrupted Hyemi and walked backwards towards the door, “Have a nice day, ladies!”

“You too!” Irene called out as Hyemi’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

“Bye.” She muttered as I hurried out the door, heart beating fast. What if she realized I was lying? Now all I could hope for was that she wouldn’t tell Wonwoo and throw me off from the progress I’ve been making.

And that day when I arrived home, I found more white lilies sitting on the little table that we had on the front porch. I took them and inhaled their scent, a smile appearing on my lips. And as a breeze passed by, I felt eyes on me. So, I straightened up and looked around, but the fence was high enough that no one would see inside, so I shook the feeling off and unlocked the front door, walking inside the house and headed to the kitchen to take a vase for the new lilies.

           A few days passed since I’ve been to the bookstore and I had realized that I needed a different approach. Yesterday, Hyemi and Wonwoo didn’t show up to the bookstore and as I went on with my day, I found Wonwoo nowhere he’d usually be at. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, so, I figured they must have taken a day off. But that thought didn’t sit well with me, so, I decided that it was time I took serious actions. A more straightforward approach. One that would set off the start of something between Wonwoo and I.

I woke up a little earlier than I usually would to be able to get ready. We had only one bathroom, and for once, I put a little effort into my appearance. I usually didn’t doll myself up, but today I wanted to look pretty. So, I put on minimal makeup and decided to be a bit bold and use red lipstick too. I pulled my hair out of my face and clipped the front strands back and then I cooked breakfast for Doyoung and I, wanting to surprise him. He was always the one that got up early and made sure we ate well, but I felt like returning this little favor to him since he’s been bringing me white lilies for almost two weeks now. I even turned his morning alarm off, wanting to give him a little extra time to sleep, which was always welcomed as he worked late and had to wake up really early. After breakfast was ready, I went back to my room to get dressed and spent at least ten minutes thinking of an outfit. In the end, I settled on high waist mom jeans and a long-sleeved colorful crop top as yesterday it was rather warm. Then, I grabbed my bag and went to Doyoung’s room to wake him up. He was in a good mood once I told him I cooked breakfast and that I let him sleep in, his laughter echoed in the house as he told me a funny story that happened at work. Breakfast was pleasant and tasty and once we were done, I didn’t wait for Doyoung, I headed out. I told him that I found a new path in the forest that lead to a beautiful clearing with a spring and that I wanted to take pictures while the sun wasn’t high up in the sky, which unfortunately was a lie. I did find a place like that, but it was last month and I had already taken plenty of pictures of it. But Doyoung didn’t have to know that I was back to stalking again, especially not today, when I was so excited about my plan. Before going to the library, I grabbed a cup of coffee, Americano this time as I didn’t have in mind drinking it and it would’ve been a waste to buy Caramel Macchiato. By the time I got to the library it was nearing noon and I was hopeful that wherever Wonwoo went, he’d be back by today, otherwise, I did all of this for nothing. When I entered, the librarian gave me a glance and her eyebrows furrowed as they fell on my coffee, but I hid it behind my back and offered her a warm smile. She shook her head but didn’t say anything and I bowed my head, hurrying further inside. The coffee wasn’t hot anymore, but it was still warm, at least it wouldn’t burn him. I cleared my throat and took in a deep breath, about to round the corner and head to the reading area. My heart was pounding quickly in my chest and I feared that others would be able to hear it in the calming silence of the library. But as I rounded the corner, my mind went blank.

There he is.

I could feel excitement enter my whole body and my fingers started tapping quickly against the cup of coffee I was holding, I had to force myself to stay as still as I could and not take off towards Wonwoo. He was sitting at his usual spot, in the middle of the area and at the edge of the table. He had a book on the table in front of him, his glasses were close to falling off and his black hair was a bit messy. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a silver necklace hung around his neck. My eyes got glued to his muscly arms as he flipped the page and I gulped, trying to focus on my plan once again.

He is a sight for sore eyes, isn’t he, Y/N? No surprise you can’t handle the thought of someone else having him.

I shook my head a little and then started walking. My heels clicked against the wooden floor, but it was a dull sound, and thankfully Wonwoo didn’t look up. His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes ran over the words in the book, and he sighed loudly as I got closer and closer. I glanced around, but there weren’t many people, and those who were, they were too busy studying or reading. Knowing that no one was looking my way, I knew what I was about to do wouldn’t look suspicious to anyone. I was two tables away from Wonwoo, and as I was watching him so closely, I noticed the sudden tensity of his muscles. How his palms clenched into fists and it almost looked like he was reading the same thing over and over, but I wouldn’t be actually able to tell that. My plan was to accidentally run into the corner of the table he was sitting at and spill the coffee on him. Like that, I had an excuse to talk to him and hopefully he’d even agree to me buying him a new shirt. I wasn’t able to decipher his personality as he was mostly by himself, but I prayed to every God out there that he’d comply to my wishes. And just as my eyes fixated on the corner of the table, to make sure that the front of my shoe would get stuck in it, Wonwoo abruptly stood up. And I jumped and panicked. The sound his chair made was loud and I lost all train of thought as his eyes fell on me and the heel of my shoe got stuck in the edge of the carpet. And suddenly, I was falling forward, eyes widened in horror. Wonwoo didn’t even blink, he just stood there, looking almost taken aback. And then our bodies collided into each other, and I felt the warm coffee spill not just on his chest, but on my own too. I gasped loudly, Wonwoo remained silent and suddenly I felt the eyes of the people who were around us, on us. Wonwoo was tense as he quickly gripped my forearms to steady me, the empty cup of coffee fell against the ground and I felt like it made the loudest sound I have ever heard. But in reality, it barely even made a thudding sound. My eyes remained wide, heart beating fast as I remained rooted in Wonwoo’s arms.

He smells so good. And his body is so firm. Do you hear how loud his breathing is, Y/N?

The evil voice made me shiver and I sprung out of Wonwoo’s hold, looking at him wide eyed. He looked frozen for a second, but then he lowered his arms, and gulped, glancing down at his damp t-shirt.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, looking down at my own damp shirt, this didn’t go as planned, he was the only one supposed to get coffee spilled on, “I am so sorry!”

My voice was quiet as I tried not to disturb the other people in there and Wonwoo finally looked at me. His sharp eyes offered no warmness and suddenly I felt small under his intense gaze. I felt embarrassed and as if I was caught in the act, but it’s him who stood up. This was supposed to happen differently.

“At least it wasn’t burning hot.” Wonwoo’s deep voice reached my ears and I did everything I could to memorize the deep vibration of it.

“Yeah, I got it a while ago…” I mumbled and looked down embarrassed, unable to maintain his intense eye contact.

“Accidents happen,” I could see him shrug as he ran his hands down his abdomen, “And it’s my fault, I was the one who stood up so abruptly—”

“Oh, no—” I looked up and shook my hands quickly, “I shouldn’t have walked so close to the table, it’s really my fault—”

“Don’t worry about it,” His lips pulled into a small smirk and I knew I was going to blush, “I’m not mad at you.”

My cheeks were hot and I felt at a loss of words all of a sudden, almost forgetting why I even planned on doing this.

“I feel guilty though—” I managed to get out, trying to avoid looking at his lips, “Let me make up for it!”

Someone towards the back of the reading area cleared their throat and I realized I was starting to speak too loudly; my leg was tapping against the wooden floor anxiously. I wanted to insist, but I didn’t know what to say next. I needed Wonwoo to co-operate, but I wasn’t sure he would just yet. His expression didn’t give away anything and I bit my lower lip nervously.

“How can you make up for it?” His eyebrows rose and my heart jumped in my chest.

“Uhm, I—I can just, uh—buy you a new shirt?” I hated myself for stuttering, but this was more nerve wrecking than I remembered it being. Has it been really that long since I’ve done this?

“I have plenty of shirts…” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me look back at him and I tried to stay calm. I couldn’t decipher his expression, but he looked like he was teasing me. I smiled softly and played with my fingers, glancing away from him before looking back.

“The mall is literally across the road…and…if you let me buy you this shirt, you’ll never forget that a stranger spilled their coffee on you on a very nice Wednesday…” Suddenly, all tension left my body when a wide smile appeared on Wonwoo’s lips. For the first time, I noticed how his nose scrunched up when he smiled, and how soft he seemed like this. When Wonwoo smiled, he wasn’t intimidating anymore, it was as if I was looking at a different person. My heart started beating quickly again and I felt at peace as I gaped at him, hopeful that he didn’t find it creepy. If only he knew…

“You might need a new shirt as well…” Wonwoo said once he was done laughing and I looked down at my shirt, eyebrows furrowing. Well yeah…that wasn’t part of the plan.

“If you insist.” I said with a shrug and Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’ll put this book back and then we can go.” Wonwoo said as he closed the book he was reading and picked it up from the table. He gave me a glance before he turned and walked towards the tall bookshelves, disappearing between them. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain my victorious smirk in case Wonwoo returned. I remembered the abandoned cup and turned around to pick it up, chuckling to myself. My plan didn’t work, but worked at the same time. It played out a little different than what I had in mind, but in the end, I still got what I wanted.

“Let’s go?” I turned my head and Wonwoo was by my side, eyebrows raised as his eyes fell on the empty cup. I nodded my head and we took off towards the mall from across the road, about to buy some new shirts.

Once we got to the mall I made Wonwoo choose a shop he likes and I’d buy him a t-shirt from there, only if he likes it, of course. In the end, he lead us to the cheapest shop and said that I should choose something for myself as well and he’ll buy it, because it was his fault too that the coffee was spilled as he got in my way. When he pointed towards the shop and said that he wanted to choose from that one, I gave him a look.

“Are you sure?” I asked as I followed after him, “Because I might look poor, but I’m not. So, if you want to wear something fancy, I totally can get it for you—”

“I don’t need anything fancy.” Wonwoo interrupted with a chuckle and I shrugged, walking inside the shop.

“Well, good for you then.” I muttered, looking around. To the left was the men section and to the right the women section, I pointed towards the men section, “Let’s go.”

Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist and noticed how warm his skin was against mine. I didn’t realize it was inappropriate to hold someone you just met, let alone drag him after you. But I was too happy that my plan actually worked out and that he didn’t recognize me at all. Even though he’s seen me twice before.

What if you aren’t remarkable enough? You could get Hyemi instead of Wonwoo, since he doesn’t even remember your face.

I shook my head and stopped in front of racks of various colored t-shirt and simple shirts, “Well, choose one!”

Wonwoo came to stand next to me and his eyebrows furrowed a little bit as he started moving the racks with his left hand. My right leg was tapping against the ground as I looked at his profile. His jaw was sharp and lips jutting out as he tried to choose one. Suddenly, I became aware of the hold I had on his wrist still and released it, clearing my throat awkwardly. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked ahead when Wonwoo glanced at me. I could feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment, but from the corner of my eyes I could see him smirking. It made my leg tap faster against the floor and I wished that something would happen that would save me from the embarrassment I was currently feeling.

“This one will do.” He suddenly spoke up, as if he could read my thoughts, and I turned to look at him. He was holding an almost identic t-shirt to the one he was wearing, except this one had longer sleeves. My eyes lingered on it before I gave him an affirming nod, and Wonwoo smiled.

“Your turn.” This time, he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me towards the women section. My heart suddenly picked up its pace and my free hand turned into a fist as I tried to contain my wide grin once again. His grip felt like it was on fire and burned away on my skin, but I was enjoying it, it was a nice feeling. He released me though the second we got to the shirts and I didn’t even look, just picked up a brown see through shirt.

“This one!” I exclaimed and grinned at Wonwoo, holding up the shirt. His eyes fell on it and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you sure?” He asked and I could almost hear a certain discomfort in his tone, but I thought I was just making things up. So, I just nodded my head with a wide smile and Wonwoo sighed, pointing towards the changing rooms.

“Let’s change then.”

“Shouldn’t we pay first?” I asked surprised as Wonwoo took off.

“No, take the tag off, we can still pay.” My eyebrows furrowed at Wonwoo’s words but I didn’t say anything as I went inside a cabin and quickly changed into the shirt I picked. Once I was dressed, I gulped. Well, I certainly should have looked first at what I was picking out, you could see my black bra through the material. And it was a bit too thin for this weather, but if we stayed inside the mall for longer I wouldn’t be bothered. And my car was around the corner, hopefully I wouldn’t catch a cold. I pulled the curtain back and my eyes fell on Wonwoo who was leaning against the wall casually. He was wearing black jeans and black combat boots. The t-shirt he picked was tight around his chest and I couldn’t look away. It was a mouthwatering sight and I gulped, snapping out of it. But the silence stretched on for longer as Wonwoo continued looking at me with an unreadable expression, jaw just a little tight. He kept his eyes on my face, but I didn’t miss the split second they lowered towards my see-through shirt. It made me fidget as I cleared my throat.

“Let’s—let’s pay!” I quickly hurried past Wonwoo, feeling embarrassed for the nth time today. I could hear a deep chuckle behind me, but I ignored it and approached the front desk.

“Hi, we bought these two shirts we are wearing, the tags are here—” I started speaking as I placed the tags on the counter.

“I’m sorry Miss, that’s against the rules.” The cashier very rudely interrupted and gave me a glare.

“Uhm…we still intend to pay though…”

“It’s still against the rules to do that, I have to call security—”

“Maybe you should just scan the tags and proceed on with your life, Kelly.” Wonwoo’s deep voice boomed next to me and I looked at him, his jaw was clenched and he was glaring at the cashier, whose name was Kelly. She seemed to shrink a little under Wonwoo’s gaze and she hesitated for a second, but then scanned in the tags.

“We are paying separately.” Wonwoo proceeded to say when he saw that she put the shirts on the same bill and Kelly apologized quickly. I looked at Wonwoo, eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in his attitude. He looked stern and demanding, I probably would’ve done instantly what he told me, if he looked at me like that. This is how I imagined Wonwoo’s personality to be like, yet it didn’t sit well with me. Something felt off about his attitude, this wasn’t the first time he was being like this. And it was very obvious that he knew what effect it would have on the one targeted.

“Here.” The girl muttered once she handed Wonwoo the change back and then it was my turn to pay, which went by quickly as both of us were trying to move quickly under Wonwoo’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Uh, bye!” I called out as Wonwoo and I walked out with a bag each and our stained shirts inside them. I stopped walking once we were out of the shop and Wonwoo stopped too, looking back at me confused.

“Something wrong?” He asked confused and I shook my head.

“Not at all…I’m just glad we are even now…” I shrugged and he nodded with a hum, looking around. I tried to shrug off the sudden uncertainty I was feeling. Wonwoo didn’t seem as safe anymore as I had imagined him to be.

“Do you want to grab some lunch?” My heart jumped into my throat instantly and my mind went blank. How do I answer that question? That was definitely not what I had planned, but it was turning even better. But I couldn’t, I felt like it would be too much. Yes, I wanted to get to know him, but I already felt like an intruder. This happened only because of me, I didn’t want Wonwoo to feel like he had to do this. And I wanted to sort out my thought first and analyze our interaction.

“I would love to, but I have to help out my brother.” I lied through my teeth, with a smile on my face.

“Ah…” He nodded and neared me, I felt small under his strong gaze. It looked like he was looking right into my soul, reading my mind. It gave me the impression that he knew I was lying, “You don’t have to feel guilty for spilling the coffee on me, I told you, accidents happen.”

“I know!” I laughed nervously, my leg tapping against the ground once again, “I feel like I should wash that t-shirt…to actually stop feeling guilty…”

And that was the second stage of my plan. Get him to give me his t-shirt so that I can wash it, that way I get his phone number and I have an excuse to meet up with him again. Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose at my words and he chuckled, reaching inside his bag for without saying anything.

“Here.” He said and handed me his stained t-shirt.

“Really?” I asked gaping and he chuckled as I took it from him, “I thought you’d be against it…”

“I’m not,” He said with a casual shrug and then fished his phone out of his pocket, “I’ll need your number in order to get back my t-shirt…unless you’re a t-shirt thief.”

I started laughing as I took his unlocked phone and typed in my phone number, trying to hide the tremble of my fingers, “Shhh, no one knows.”

I winked as I handed him back his phone with my number saved and Wonwoo chuckled, ringing me. That way I had his number too, which I would save the second I got to my car. And then, he took another step and I was taken aback by the closeness between us.

“Tell me…” He muttered, his voice deep and I gulped nervously, “Have we met before?”

He knows, Y/N.

I froze up for a second, looking at him with my jaw having fallen open, “What? I—I don’t think—where—You know, maybe at the library—No! We have never met before!”

I knew I fucked up with my stuttering and the way Wonwoo suddenly started smirking like he was proud of himself for making me react like that. Maybe he really does know and the voices aren’t wrong.

“You go to the library often?”

“Lately, yeah.” I cleared my throat and stepped back, acting like I was looking at the shop behind Wonwoo.

“I see.” He nodded and then stepped back too, holding his hand out, “We haven’t introduced ourselves, I’m Wonwoo.”

My eyebrows rose as I realized we really didn’t, even though I already knew his name. Thank God it didn’t slip from my lips, that would’ve been really bad.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you!” I smiled at him widely and shook his head excited, trying to ignore how hot his hand was once again. His grip was firm and I decided to ignore how our hands touched for a little bit longer than they were supposed to.

“Nice to meet you too.” Wonwoo chuckled and we let go of each other’s hands finally.

“I have to go now…” I pointed behind me and Wonwoo gave me a nod and a small wave, “Bye!”

“See you soon, Y/N.” I shivered at how low his tone got and quickly hurried away, feeling embarrassed, excited, nervous and confused by the vibes he was giving me. Why is it that I feel like there’s something going on with him?

           I was eager to get home after the day I had, ready to get lost in my thoughts and analyze every little detail about the exchange between Wonwoo and I. I even considered texting him, but I didn’t want to come off as creepy, or give him the wrong impression. If I wanted things to work out, I had to be smooth and careful about everything I said and did. As I parked my car in its usual place, I noticed how the lights were on inside the house and realized Doyoung was already home. Doyoung was home early! I quickly got out of the car and locked it, almost running to get inside the house faster. It was rare that Doyoung was home before nightfall and I missed spending time with him and going out with him. We haven’t gone on a run together in a long time and I was hoping that Doyoung was up to it. I knocked on the front door first to let Doyoung know that it was me, and then pushed the door open and walked inside.

“Doyoung!” I shrieked, seeing that he wasn’t in the living room nor kitchen, “Hi!”

Doyoung didn’t answer right away and as I closed the door behind me and locked it, I heard the water running in the bathroom. Doyoung was washing up, so I walked to my room and changed out of my clothes and wore something comfortable. I quickly removed my makeup and sighed as I pulled my hair in a low bun, feeling at ease once again. I opened my window to let in some fresh air and as I was about to walk away, I noticed the white lilies on the windowsill. I chuckled at Doyoung’s creativeness and picked them up, taking them inside with me. It was smart of him, to be honest. He parked his car behind the backyard, where the wall of my bedroom was too. So, in order to get to the front of the house he’d have to pass by my windows and that would explain how he was able to sneak in the flowers inside my room without me seeing them. But as I held the lilies, I realized that there were ten pieces this time and I bit my lower lip as a wide smile spread onto my lips. I glanced at the bag that contained the shirts that got coffee spilled on them and I walked up to it, grabbing Wonwoo’s t-shirt. I took it in my hands and, having placed the lilies on my bed, and felt the soft fabric of the black t-shirt. It was bigger than my own torso as I held it against my frame and chuckled as I walked towards my mirror. So that’s what I would look like wearing Wonwoo’s shirts.

You look lovely, Y/N, we bet Wonwoo can’t wait to see you like this. If you proceed carefully, he’ll be yours in a blink of an eye.

I chuckled, letting the image the voices created linger in my mind. I brought the t-shirt up against my nose and reveled in Wonwoo’s cologne. It was masculine and it carried a musky scent and something that I have only felt on Doyoung, the smell of gunpowder. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at the t-shirt, lowering it back inside the bag. Why would Wonwoo’s t-shirt smell like gunpowder? Does he go to the shooting ranges? Is it a hobby of his? No, if it was, I would’ve known already. But before I could dwell on it longer, the bathroom door closed and I jumped, taking the white lilies as I left my room.

“Y/N, are you home—”

“Doyoung!” I exclaimed and threw my arms around my brother, giving him a back hug. Doyoung chuckled and tapped my arms, softly peeling them off himself.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early!” I said as I walked around him, wandering if we had any free vases for the lilies.

“I wasn’t either…” Doyoung muttered and I heard him sigh as I opened some cabinets until I found a blue vase. I smiled in victory and filled it with water, placing the lilies inside before putting the vase in the middle of the dining table. Doyoung was lounging on the couch with a frown on his face and as I looked at him, about to rant about my day, I realized something was wrong. He looked drained; his eyes even looked red.

“Doyoung…” I muttered with a frown and approached him slowly, arms hugging around my torso, “Are you okay?”

He looked up at me and tried to put on a smile, “Yeah! I’m fine—”

But his voice broke a little and I quickly sat next to him, throwing my arms around him as I pulled him into a tight hug.

“Hey, talk to me.” I whispered as I rubbed his back reassuringly. His arms went around me and he sighed loudly, sniffing.

“Well…I was sent home early because the higher ups are in meetings…” He sighed again and I just hummed as I waited patiently for him to continue.

“Sana was found dead this morning—” His voice broke again and I froze. Doyoung’s boss was dead? Who could have done such thing? And why?

“Oh, Doyoung, I’m so sorry…” I whispered, tightening my hold around him. He nodded his head and then rested his cheek against my shoulder. We remained silent as I tried offering comfort to my brother, knowing how much Sana’s death affected him. Not many liked Sana, sometimes even Doyoung hated her, but they spent a lot of time together. And inevitably they bonded, she still meant something to him.

“She was shot in the head once, it killed her instantly—” I wanted to tell him to stop thinking about it, to not tell me anything about her death, but he had to get it off his chest. And I was there to listen, I would always be there for Doyoung, no matter what he needed.

“There were signs of other altercations before her death…” Then he stopped for a second and scoffed, “She attacked a girl, Y/N, a simple, innocent, girl. She just—broke inside her apartment, trashed it and—and tried killing her? I don’t understand—”

“People do all sorts of things,” I interrupted Doyoung’s rambling, “You can never truly know what a person is capable of until it’s done.”

Doyoung sniffed again and then gently pulled back, rubbing his eyes. I let my hands rest in my lap as I watched my brother trying to pull himself together.

“She did it because of a guy—I don’t understand. She was obsessed with this—Kim Mingyu and she attacked Hyemi for being with him, I—” Doyoung shrugged and fell back against the couch, looking up at the white ceiling. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched my brother. Kim Mingyu? It’s the guy Wonwoo works for. Wait…does Wonwoo know anything about this? Why was he missing yesterday? Hyemi…it can’t be the girl from the bookstore, right?

“Is Hyemi alright?” I found myself asking quietly and Doyoung hummed.

“Her friends found her just in time, before she could get hurt seriously. But Sana…”

“She got what she deserved.” I couldn’t hold my words back and Doyoung’s head snapped in my direction, “She tried to kill Hyemi, Doyoung. And she was a cop. Attacked a simple civilian. I understand your pain and struggle but—”

“I know,” Doyoung offered me a reassuring smile and patted my hand, “but it’s very stressful. They want me to replace Sana.”

My eyes widened as I sat up straighter, “Wait…you’ll become head of police then…?”

Doyoung’s lips formed a thin line and he sighed, looking away from me, “I guess Kim Mingyu really does achieve whatever he wants…”

“Kim Mingyu?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Doyoung once again confused hearing his name, “What does he have to do with this?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about that.” Doyoung quickly said and ran his fingers through his damp hair, “I just wanted to be the first one to tell you all of this, and not Mark.”

Before I could press more about who Kim Mingyu was, I froze and looked at Doyoung surprised, “Mark?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung gave me a small glare and it seemed like he was quick to repress the feelings towards Sana’s death, “I know about what you do with Mark.”

“I don’t do anything,” I shrugged defensively, “I don’t even know who that is!”

Doyoung scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Please, you think people didn’t notice Mark’s sudden success this year? Everyone knew he was close to getting fired, until he suddenly turned into this super detective he never was—”

“And how is that my fault?!” I exclaimed, unable to keep it inside anymore. My legs were bouncing quickly and I gave Doyoung a glare, “I wanted to help. I wanted to do something else besides running my blog and taking pictures of nature, alright? This is fun and exciting—”

“And fucking dangerous, Y/N!” Doyoung exclaimed, standing up as his eyebrows furrowed, “Do you have any idea who you even follow around? Gang leaders, mafia heads, powerful business men! These people are shady! If you were ever caught, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything—”

“I know!” I exclaimed and stood up too, feeling desperate for Doyoung to understand me, “But this helped! It really did, Mark offered me an escape, Doyoung. An escape from falling back into my old habits and stalking people. Ever since I started doing this, I—I had no tendencies to stalk others—” Besides the sudden infatuation I had with Wonwoo, but it would pass. I hoped that it would. I wanted Doyoung to be proud of me.

“You just need a good therapist, Y/N—” Doyoung’s words were triggering as my parents would say this often to me and I couldn’t control myself, I shoved him back. He stumbled a bit, taken aback by my sudden outburst. Until he realized what he said, and he turned pale.

“Thanks a lot, big brother.” I snapped and turned around, storming towards my room, “You know therapists did shit and never helped me! The medication only made feel worse after a while!”

“I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry—” Doyoung tried to apologize as he followed after me.

“Save it, okay?!” I entered my room and blocked Doyoung from coming inside, “I—I know I’m a burden to you. I hate being a burden. But I can’t live on my own, and I hate that. I want to offer you a normal life, but instead, I’m just hanging on your neck—and I don’t need you to remind me that!”

“That’s not true!” Doyoung looked offended by my words as his eyebrows furrowed, “You were never a burden to me. I love you and I want you with me, Y/N—”

I raised my palm to stop him from talking, “Stop, I don’t care. Thankfully, helping Mark out pays well and I’m close to having enough money to move out. Give me three more months, and I’ll be gone.”

“What?!” Doyoung’s face fell and he went to grab me, but I slammed the door shut quickly, “I don’t want you to leave! We moved in here together because we both wanted to! You can’t just leave—”

“Watch me!” I screamed and I heard Doyoung sigh loudly as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. This wasn’t the time to act childish nor to drop something like that on him, not when his boss just died and he was in grief. But I couldn’t help it, he pissed me off. He would never understand what I had to go through daily and therefore he had no rights to try and tell me what to do. What Mark offered me was a life saver and Doyoung would never understand how much it helped, right up until I met Wonwoo.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Doyoung said loudly and knocked on my door, but I quickly locked it. I knew he was sorry and he didn’t want to hurt me, but I needed time to get over his words. By tomorrow morning I would be fine, but I needed to be left alone tonight.

“Whatever!” I called out and rolled my eyes, “Don’t bring me any white lilies anymore!”

I waited for an answer but Doyoung remained silent and I really wanted to see his expression, was he mad that I told him that?

“What?” My eyebrows furrowed at his confused tone, “You’re the one who buys them daily—”

The rest of his words got swallowed by my loudness. My heart started thumping wildly as I unlocked the bedroom’s door in a hurry and threw it open, “What?!”

Doyoung’s eyebrows were furrowed too as we looked at each other confused, “You…aren’t the one buying the lilies?”

“And it’s not you who’s been giving them to me?” Doyoung and I seemed to realize what this meant at the same time and as I scampered to shut the window of my room closed and lock it, Doyoung hurried to take on some shoes as he turned on the lights outside around the house. He threw on a jacket and hurried outside as I remained shivering in the middle of the room. Goosebumps covered my skin as I remained staring at the flowers on my nightstand that I got yesterday. Who was giving me these flowers then? And why was this person breaking inside our house?

Aw, does our little Y/N have a secret admirer? Who could it be?

“No!” I shook my head and hurriedly shut all blinds in my room and then went around the house, shutting each one of them. Doyoung came inside looking distressed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll talk to the boys, and they’ll start patrolling around the neighborhood. Tomorrow a search team will come and search the house for any foreign DNA, alright?” Doyoung spoke with a serious tone as he locked the front door and turned to look at me, “Nothing will happen, alright?”

“They have been breaking in for two weeks, Doyoung—” I bit my lower lip and started tapping my leg against the floor anxiously, “Do they want something from me?”

Doyoung walked up to me and held onto my shoulders, “We’ll catch them before they can do anything, yes?”

I sighed and nodded my head, looking around the house to see the white lilies everywhere. They made me feel sick to my stomach, so I walked past Doyoung to take the trash bin and started throwing all of them inside it, cursing under my breath. I should have known that it wasn’t Doyoung. I’m so stupid!

           Sleeping was hard last night and after struggling for a while, I somehow fell asleep towards the morning hours. I didn’t have the energy to go and watch Wonwoo today, I was too paranoid to even wear headphones on my run. I kept glancing behind me, until I noticed the police car parked around the curb and two of Doyoung’s colleagues chatting as they had coffee in their hands. I quickly greeted them before running past them, deciding to change my running route out of fear that if someone indeed was watching would already know I would head that way and do something to me. Doyoung kept messaging me every half an hour and I got irritated so I told him to just watch the app where it showed him my location, and at least that made him stop. I was halfway down the path when my phone started buzzing in my back pocket, tickling my butt cheek. I stopped running and unzipped the pocket, taking my phone in my hand. My lungs were screaming for air and I had sweat a lot as I pushed myself in order to try and forget the whole stalker deal. But when my eyes fell on the caller ID, I felt excited.

“I hope you went on that vacation and enjoyed yourself,” Came Mark’s voice through the phone and I chuckled, still trying to catch my breath, “Because I’ve got a new job for you.”

I hummed and breathed loudly, waiting for Mark to continue.

“Am I…interrupting something?” His voice was hesitant and it made me laugh.

“Yeah, my run.” Mark chuckled and I turned around, walking back towards the house, “Tell me everything.”

“It’s a one-day job, but it’s very important. The names are Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao. I’ll send you the details in a message on your other number, delete it once you had it memorized.”

“What exactly will I have to look out for?” I wondered as I passed by the police car again, the officers were gone this time.

“Those two are planning a heist, just take pictures of each jewelry place they go inside and send them to me straight when you think it’s clear.” I pursed my lips and thought a little.

“Fine, but don’t say a word to Doyoung. He knows about us and he’s very mad.”

“I know,” Mark cleared his throat, sounding awkward, “He very much wants to fire me right now. Maybe you heard, but Sana is dead, so he’s the big boss now…”

“I know,” I muttered and walked down the street, looking around before crossing onto the other side, “Doyoung told me. Seems like she was nuts or something…”

“She had it coming,” Mark scoffed and it peaked my interest, “Anyone who works against or turns on Kim Mingyu ends up being dead.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I was about to ask who this man was, but Mark gasped, “Shit, your brother is coming—keep your eyes on your phone!”

He hung up and I sighed as I locked my phone, wondering if I would find anything about Kim Mingyu on the internet. Since Wonwoo worked for him, I’ve seen him a few times, his business seemed pretty serious. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the guy approaching me and gasped when their shoulder collided with mine. I hissed and stopped, turning around to shout at them, but the person didn’t even acknowledge me.

“Asshole!” I shouted after them, noticing their hunched form. The person seemed tall and looked like he was trying to hide his actual height. I turned to walk when the scent hit me. Musk and gunpowder. I quickly turned around, but the man in the black clothes was already gone.

Was that your secret admirer?

I shivered and quickly ran the rest of the way home, only being around the corner. I quickly unlocked the gate and as I walked inside, my eyes fell on the white lilies that I threw in the dumpster this morning. I felt bad for them because they were very beautiful, but I didn’t want them inside the house anymore.

After showering and getting ready, I checked out Mark’s message and memorized the information quickly, deleting the message. I grabbed my laptop and put it inside my bag together with my camera as I pulled on my tennis shoes and left the house, locking everything after me. I had an hour until the targets would show up to the city center to check out all shops, so I decided to take a walk there, try to use up the energy that didn’t go away while I was running due to it being cut short. I let Doyoung know that I was going out and to an agglomerated area, so that he didn’t have to worry, besides he had the tracker on. I snapped a few pictures as I walked and reveled in the silence around me as I took the back streets, where less people walked. I wondered what Wonwoo was doing, and suddenly I felt bad that I didn’t follow him around today. He’d be at his work place right now, having already been to the gym earlier this morning after he dropped Hyemi off at work and bought his coffee. What was interesting about Wonwoo was that each time he ordered coffee, he bought something different. My phone dinged as I turned onto the main street, getting lost in the crowd of people as I opened my phone and almost shrieked when I saw whom the message was from.

From Wonwoo: Hey…I hope I’m not bothering you…I was just wondering when we could meet up? You know…to give me back my t-shirt.

I struggled for a second to hold the phone in both hands and also not walk into others as I typed back.

To Wonwoo: Hi! You’re not bothering me at all! I washed it this morning…so if the weather is nice, it’ll be totally dry by tomorrow! Is tomorrow good for you?

I was about to put my phone away, but Wonwoo started typing back instantly and soon came his answer.

From Wonwoo: I can’t tomorrow, I won’t be in town and will only get back late. The next day…is it good for you?

I looked around me, noticing that I was in the area Mark instructed me to. I noticed the first jewelry shop and found a bench right across from it, so I hurried to take a seat there.

To Wonwoo: Sure, at noon? We can have lunch, since I turned it down last time…

My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited for Wonwoo’s answer, which seemed to take ages, and in fact only took a few seconds.

From Wonwoo: Fine, but let’s go to a restaurant. The food is better than the one at the mall.

He wasn’t wrong, besides this was sounding an awful lot like a date. I giggled and looked around before typing back.

To Wonwoo: Tell me the location and time?

From Wonwoo: 1 o’clock, but I’ll pick you up. Give me your address.

I hesitated for a second, knowing better not to give away my address to a complete stranger. My parents warned me about bad people, and so did Doyoung numerous times…especially since he became a cop and had to work on many cases that ended badly due to naïve girls going on dates with guys from Tinder. But I didn’t meet Wonwoo on Tinder…and I’ve already been watching him for weeks, I know what he’s like.

Honestly, you would pass on an opportunity like this one, Y/N? Isn’t this what we’ve been working for? Getting Wonwoo? Why did you even bother if you’re about to refuse him?!

When I saw Wonwoo typing, I quickly sent him my address, scared that he thought I was about to refuse him after I was the one who proposed getting lunch.

From Wonwoo: Alright, I’ll be there then.

To Wonwoo: Can’t wait to see you!

I instantly regretted sending that, but it was no use deleting it as he had already read the message.

From Wonwoo: Me too.

I giggled again and as I looked up; I saw a black Ferrari pulling up. I quickly scrambled to get out my camera from my bag and turned it on at lightning speed. I snapped pictures as the targets got out of the car. They were the same guys from the pictures Mark sent me, Minghao and Junhui. Both dressed pretty fancy and I knew they were the targets. I remained seated as they walked inside the first jewelry shop and snapped a picture of it. They didn’t spend much time in, quickly headed to the next one. I followed them from the bench as long as I could, but as they started walking towards the end of the street, I had to move too to be able to catch them. My phone and Wonwoo were forgotten, but just as I got up from the bench, throwing my bag over my shoulder and camera in my hand, my phone buzzed. As the targets were still inside the shop, I quickly checked to see that I had another new message from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: What are you doing right now?

I paused a little bit, finding his wording a little weird, but shrugged it off. I looked up just as the targets walked out of the shop and placed my phone in my pocket, snapping pictures as they talked and looked around. I wasn’t afraid that they’d see me as there were lots of people around us, but it still felt like I was being watched. They didn’t move from that spot, so I quickly answered Wonwoo.

To Wonwoo: Nothing much, just working. You?

I looked up to see the targets moving across the street, headed to a simple gardening shop. What could they be doing there? I started quickly walking towards it and snapped a picture just as I passed by in front of it, hopeful that no one saw me. Especially the targets. Then they walked out and headed down the street, towards the bench I was sitting at previously. I trailed after them, keeping a good distance as I pretended to look around and snapped a few pictures of the things that were displayed in the windows, trying to act normal and as if I was a tourist. I felt my phone vibrating again, so I checked it with a sigh. This isn’t how I’m supposed to be doing my work.

From Wonwoo: Working too, waiting for my boss.

So Wonwoo was with Mingyu then, probably sitting in his red Mercedes, waiting for Mingyu to show up and order him around. I didn’t react to the text message as the targets started moving again, headed for the Ferrari they have arrived in. Hastily, I snapped a few more pictures of the car, getting the license plate, and once they sped off, I took a deep breath. Well, I wasn’t caught, so that was amazing. Now I just have to send Mark all the photos and then have some lunch, my stomach is screaming for food.

I found a nice restaurant just around the corner and sat at a table at the back, opening my laptop. I copied all pictures on it and then sent Mark everything through an e-mail before deleting everything off my camera and laptop. No traces of what I had done, perfect as always.

To Mark: Everything good?

From Mark: Perfect, thanks again. I’ll pay you later, wait around a little bit.

To Mark: Fine, I have to eat either way!

And then I put my phone away and ordered food, which thankfully came quickly, as I was really hungry. I bobbed my head to the songs played on the radio while I ate, my legs bouncing underneath the table, unable to sit still. Not that it was something unusual. I was slurping up the rest of the soup when Doyoung messaged me and told me he would be home early again and that he could pick me up if I wanted him to. But I couldn’t as Mark had to pay me still, so I told him that I wanted to stay out alone for a little bit longer. And after almost two hours of me sitting at the restaurant, Mark finally called me that he was in front of the gardening shop, waiting for me. Paying for the food and greeting the lady, I left the restaurant in a hurry, glad that Mark finally showed up. In truth, I wanted Doyoung to pick me up, but he was at home by now and I didn’t want to bother him. I would just take a cab as it was getting dark and I didn’t want to walk home anymore. The exchange between Mark and I was brief as usual and I quickly found a cab for myself. I got in and told the driver where to take me and got comfortable against the beige leather seats. I sighed and started tapping my thigh with my fingers, looking out the window at the bright billboards and lights of the city. We went past the first intersection, but traffic was getting bad as everyone was headed home or out to have fun, so we caught the next red light. The cab driver turned the volume of the radio up a bit as he started bobbing his head to the beat and I found myself tapping along it too; the song was catchy. Police car sirens could be heard in the distance, but it wasn’t something unusual. Then suddenly, there was a commotion a few cars behind us and as I twisted my neck to see what was happening, four figures in all black and masks covering their whole faces ran up to the car. The cab driver panicked and before he could lock the doors, his door was ripped open and he was pulled out. I jumped and opened my own door in a hurry, wanting to get out, but I couldn’t as all four doors of the cab were now ripped open and the four men jumped in. I got pushed into the middle by my head by the man on my right and squeezed there as I gripped my bag to my chest. All doors were shut closed and only the driver put on his seatbelt. Suddenly, he started reeving the engine and then crashed into the car in front of us. The car jolted and I gasped as I was sent forward, eyes wide as my heart pumped loudly. God damn it, I should have just accepted Doyoung’s offer and asked Mark to pay me tomorrow. The cab driver was holding onto his head and screaming for help as the sirens got closer and the driver started honking, trying to make space for us to pass. I remained silent and shocked, gripping onto my bag and hopeful that they wouldn’t do anything to me. They seemed too stressed about leaving and getting away from the approaching police.

“For fuck’s sake!” Suddenly the one in the passenger seat shouted, his voice raspy, as he threw his door open and got halfway out. And then a silver thing glinted in his hand and I made myself small as I knew he was about to pull the trigger. The gunshots were loud as people started screaming around, suddenly the cars in front of us started moving aside, the light had turned green too.

“Floor it!” The man to my left shouted and the one in the passenger seat hopped back in as the driver pressed the gas pedal and we were sent flying forward. I yelped and held onto the headrest of the passenger seat tightly, looking ahead. The driver was honking constantly until every car started moving out of the way and we were flying down the road, but the sirens were closer too. So close, that the red and blue lights could be seen from inside the car. My breathing started to pick up as my left leg was bouncing very fast, and I was trying to remain as calm as I could. It seemed like they didn’t want to bother with me, so if I remain silent, maybe nothing will happen to me. I might as well blindfold myself so that I know nothing about where they are taking me and then they can let me free as I haven’t seen their faces.

The light turned red in front of us, but the driver wasn’t paying any attention to the traffic lights as he was speeding and switching lanes frantically, even going into the opposite lanes, making me squeeze my eyes shut. If we were about to run into any car, I didn’t want to see it. My bouncing leg knocked into something and I opened one eyes, becoming aware that these criminals were holding black bags that seemed to be heavy. They must have robbed some place and now were running away, just fucking perfect that they chose this cab! I gasped again as the car was jerked to the right and I was sent into the person on my left, making them hiss. I was expecting a slap or them to scream at me, but they just gently adjusted me back into the middle seat, turning their head towards me as if they realized for the first time that I was in the car too. I could see their brown eyes, and they widened. Mine widened too out of fear and I quickly ducked my head, holding onto my bag tightly. By now, the police was full on chasing these criminals, they were right behind us and the car was jerked to the left this time.

“Fuck this shit car!” A very deep voice suddenly shouted, making me jump, “I can’t outrun the fucking police in this old ass piece of shit—”

“Calm down!” The man on my right snapped, voice tense and raised. My left leg was bouncing so fast that I was getting a cramp in my thigh, but I couldn’t stop, I was on the brink of passing out from how anxious I was feeling. I stopped breathing normally a long time ago and I even started sweating, if only someone would’ve rolled down a window…

“Where the fuck do I go if they are trailing us? I can’t lose them here!” The deep voiced man continued shouting and he honked again as the sirens seemed to become deafening. But the more I concentrated on his deep voice, the more familiar it became. My body felt like it was made out of rock already, but it seemed like I could tense up even more. My breath got cut off for a second as my head snapped up, my whole body sitting up straight. My eyes bore into the back of the driver’s head. I knew that voice, but it can’t be. My brain is just making up things, I’m under so much stress that I started making up things.

“Take the back streets!” The man from the passenger seat answered him, “Boss is waiting at the docks.”

“The docks are fucking half an hour away from here! Start shooting at their cars tires, you idiots!” The driver’s deep voice boomed in the car and I shivered as three windows were rolled down. The three men suddenly all had weapons in their hands and they started shooting at the police car that was speeding beside the cab. I remained staring at the driver as my brain was screaming at me that the voice belonged to Wonwoo. Suddenly, the guy looked in the rearview mirror and our gazes connected. My mouth fell open when I saw foxy eyes staring back at me with the intensity I was used to seeing from Wonwoo, their brown seemed to be even darker as I gaped at Wonwoo. This can’t be happening, no. This must be a joke. But Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed and he quickly looked back at the road, taking another sharp turn as the rest managed to get rid of that one police car, but at least three more were still chasing us. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket and I let go of my bag with one hand, only now noticing how badly I was shaking. I knew no one was paying attention to me, so I curled up into a ball and sneakily placed the phone against my ear after hitting the green button.

“Y/N?!” Doyoung’s voice was frantic and the sirens were even louder through the phone, “Why the hell are you in the car we are chasing—”

Suddenly, the phone was ripped from my hands and I shrieked, trying to reach for it, “Doyoung!”

But the guys on each of my side held me down and the man in the passenger’s seat had the phone against his ear.

“Listen here—” But he was cut off by Doyoung, I could hear him screaming through the phone, but I didn’t understand what he was saying as all I could hear were my own loud heart beats as I struggled against the men holding me. Finally, my flight or fight kicked in, and I chose to fight as I didn’t really have the opportunity to run. Only God knows what was about to happen, I wasn’t going to sit around anymore. I elbowed the man on my right in the stomach and he cried out loudly as I finally freed my right arm. The man on my left was very skinny, but despite that he was very strong and my arm was turning numb, that’s how hard he was squeezing me. I started fighting against him too, punched him in the face with my free hand, even though he tried dodging it. My left arm was free too and I lunged for the guy in the passenger seat, knowing that I’d kill all of us if I started choking Wonwoo. So instead, my hands went around the other guy’s neck from behind as I started squeezing, the words he was about to say to my brother dying away in his throat. My phone fell from his hand and he gripped my wrists, trying to claw at me with his nails, but he was wearing glows. I started squeezing even harder as Wonwoo started swerving the car around violently.

“Get a fucking grip on her!” He shouted as with his right hand he gripped my bicep and started yanking on my arm. I cried out in pain, trying to elbow him as suddenly hands around my waist and forearms were pulling me back harshly. The guy I was choking started fighting back too, probably close to passing out as his struggling became less and less. But these guys were very strong, and two were pulling me back while one was squeezing so hard on my bicep that it felt like someone was trying to rip my arm off, I had to let go of the guy in the passenger seat. He started coughing and wheezing loudly as he fell forward. I screamed as I was restrained, this time the guys were almost sitting on me to stop me from fighting back. Wonwoo looked at me through the rearview mirror and I knew that he knew I recognized him, his deadly glare made me still instantly. I was rooted against the leather seat as he reached for my phone and hit a button, no doubt calling my brother.

“You want your sister? You play along with me.” Was all he said before hanging up and throwing the phone back at me, hitting my knees as it fell onto the ground. The guys still held me tightly, even though I stopped struggling. The one in the front stopped coughing, but he was still leaned over, holding onto his head as he was breathing loudly. My lungs were rising and falling at an alarming pace as my legs started bouncing again. But then suddenly Wonwoo took a sharp U turn and the police cars stopped following us. The sirens stopped blaring, all you could see were the lights, lights that were getting farther away from us. Doyoung was getting farther away from me, he was in one of those cars! I bit my lower lip and tried to keep the thoughts about me dying out as for once in my life I focused on the voices.

Look at that, Y/N is having the most fun she’s ever head. Don’t worry, you won’t die. Wonwoo won’t kill you, he’s into you. And he probably knows that you know it’s him. Isn’t he just so hot? The way he screamed, the way he’s driving…and you thought he was boring?! His burning gaze makes you feel all sorts of ways, Y/N, admit it. Now calm down, you are getting out of this alive.

The voices weren’t helpful as they were rambling about Wonwoo, but I did take a deep breath and noticed that until I was zoned out, he stopped driving at a crazy speed. We were downtown, but nowhere close to the docks. Wonwoo pulled up into the parking lot of a poorly lit convenience store, where a police car was already there. But all lights were off and only one man was there, walking around the car anxiously. It was Doyoung and my heart almost jumped out of my chest when Wonwoo stopped the car just next to Doyoung’s police car. The doors were kicked open again and I jumped when the guy on my left held onto my bicep, Wonwoo squeezed me so hard that my whole arm was on fire, it would bruise so ugly. I was pulled out of the car, but not manhandled, as Doyoung came to a stop at the back of the car. The guy let go of me and I took two hurried steps, but someone blocked my path, and I ran into their hard chest. Musk and gunpowder. I didn’t look up at Wonwoo, only stared at his chest as I held my bag against my stomach, my whole-body trembling.

“Say a word to anyone about this, I know where you live and I won’t hesitate to find you.” His deep voice was low as he whispered to me, radiating anger. I bit my lower lip and said nothing as I knocked into him hard and walked past to get to Doyoung. He was quick to pull me into his arms and I clung onto him, telling myself that I was finally safe. It was silent as no one dared to say anything; Doyoung was so tense, he felt like I was hugging a rock.

“If you ever again put my sister into danger, I won’t hesitate to continue what Sana started. You’re lucky I’ve known Mingyu since we were kids, otherwise you’d be laying in jail for life right now.” Doyoung was so angry, his voice trembled and it even raised a few octaves as he spoke to the criminals. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was just letting them off like that? They were criminals!

“Your generosity will be always returned, you know that, Doyoung.” The guy I choked could barely speak, his voice was a low rasp and then I heard something colliding against the concrete. Doyoung moved us a little as car doors were closed and the engine of the cab started again as Wonwoo pulled out of the parking lot with the tires screeching. I let go of Doyoung and looked at him disappointed, lips trembling.

“You’re a corrupt cop?” I managed to say as a few tears fell from my eyes. He looked down at the bag and picked it up, remorse showing on his face.

“You weren’t supposed to find out, but it’s a complicated story—”

“Nothing about this is complicated!” I shouted, angrily wiping the tears off my cheeks, “You just let four criminals run off like nothing happened! Like I couldn’t have been killed in that chase or afterwards by them! If people like you are the ones protecting this city everyone should be afraid for their own lives!”

Doyoung’s face got red and he pointed a finger at me, “You don’t get to tell me what’s wrong and what’s right! I’m not perfect; you think you’re the only one with flaws, Y/N?! Wake up! I’m not the perfect brother you always make me out to be! Once you start working for the mafia there’s no way out—”

“You work for the mafia?!” I screamed, seeing Doyoung in a different light for the first time. He really wasn’t the person I thought he was. The innocent Doyoung never existed, at least not since he’s been working for the mafia apparently.

“No, but I help them out sometimes. Mingyu and I made a pact a long time ago—”

“Kim Mingyu is the mafia leader?”

“Yes—”

“Who is Jeon Wonwoo?” Doyoung paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. I raised my eyebrows at him as I waited for an answer. Oh, and he was going to give me all the answers I wanted.

“A very skilled getaway driver, Mingyu’s closest and most trusted friend, and his chauffeur.” Doyoung answered me after he took a deep breath, searching my face for a reaction. But it never came, I surpassed it. I felt tired and I was aching all over, I need a warm bath and sleep. I didn’t even want to know anything anymore, that was enough.

“Let’s go home.” I said with a sigh and walked up to the police car, “I’m very tired.”

“Y/N—”

“Now, Doyoung.” I snapped and opened the door, sitting inside angrily. Doyoung shook his head before following suit, remaining silent for the rest of the night.

Isn’t Wonwoo just the most amazing person you’ve ever—Shut up, I shouted in my head, closing my eyes tightly. I was done listening to the voices. I wanted nothing to do with them anymore. No, Wonwoo was a criminal and he made it very clear what he’d do if I said anything about what happened. I was going to ask Mark to return that damned t-shirt to him and I never wanted to see Wonwoo again or talk to him again. I blocked his number and deleted all pictures I had of him in my phone. In the morning, when I was home alone, I was going to burn every single thing I had collected about him, every single picture I snapped. He was a criminal and I wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

           Ever since last night Doyoung was acting like I was an alien. He didn’t speak to me; he didn’t even look at me! He quietly greeted me when I walked to the kitchen to have breakfast, but before I could thank him for making breakfast or ask him how he slept, he was out of the front door. He barely checked up on me all day, and when I gave him a call to ask him if he’d come home for lunch as I cooked food, he didn’t answer but sent a text saying that he couldn’t speak to me at the moment. It was pissing me off. I didn’t want him to make this harder for us. What I found out was a lot to take in and I wasn’t proud of him, but he was my brother and he was the only person who stood by my side since day one without judging me. I loved him very much and I needed him next to me. I needed him to understand that nothing changed between us, besides the fact that currently I was very pissed off and scared. The police were still patrolling around the neighborhood as no DNA was found inside the house that didn’t belong to us, and honestly, I was on the verge of inviting the officers inside the house as I jumped at every sound. Sleep came easily as I was very stressed, but my eyes opened at five in morning and I haven’t been able to go back to sleep, so I got to work. I gathered everything I had on Wonwoo and threw it in the fireplace in the back garden and watched it as it burned away in the morning light. It eased my nerves a little bit as I clutched the blanket tighter around me, knowing that Wonwoo was out of town today. But tomorrow he wouldn’t be, and I had a feeling that he was still going to want to meet up with me. But I didn’t want to, not anymore. Knowing that Mark wasn’t sleeping at that hour, I called him, and told him everything that happened. He was very sorry and felt really guilty and promised to never send me off to watch mafia members, I was content with that. Watching shady business men was alright, but following mafia members wasn’t fun anymore. I stayed inside the whole day after I went on my run and just cleaned and cooked even more. I updated my blog and accepted a request of someone to put up my photos in their gallery next month. Since Mark wasn’t going to contact me for a while now, I started looking for vacation destinations. I really needed it, I had to get away from the city for a while. The voices went quiet and even when I listened closely, I only heard intangible whispers. It was good, it meant I was over Wonwoo. Even if I wasn’t really. The fairytale I was living in was shattered and as I glanced at his folded t-shirt, I sighed. I was hoping that for once I finally found someone who would be good for me, but it turned out I was very wrong. Usually my hunches were good, but this time I was totally blinded by his attractiveness and the voices that never knew better. Shaking my head, I remembered the old lady from the woods and wondered if she was still alive…or if she’d recognize me if I showed up. She told me she’d welcome me anytime again, but I didn’t visit her very frequently as my family was keeping a close eye on me after I ran away, and it was fine. But now, I craved to be engulfed in total silence and the green nature around me.

Nightfall came and I was eating on the couch as I watched a reality show, laughing loudly when something was amusing. It wasn’t very late, but the sun still set early as we haven’t passed the spring solstice yet. I just bit into the meatball I made for lunch when the front door was unlocked and I heard Doyoung’s keys.

“Hi!” I called out with my mouth full, raising the hand with which I was holding the fork to wave at him. Doyoung hummed and went to the fridge directly and opened it.

“Oh, I made a lot of food today,” I said as I turned around, resting both legs on the couch, “Meatballs, found some spaghetti too so I made some sauce for it. I made a salad with the veggies we had and lentil cream soup, your favorite!”

But Doyoung didn’t react and my eyebrows furrowed as I chewed the food I had in my mouth. This had do end right now, I wasn’t going to let my brother treat me like I was invisible just because I found out that he’s a corrupt cop.

“Hey!” I snapped, placing the plate on the coffee table forcefully, “Stop being a pussy and face me!”

Doyoung sighed and threw a glance at me as he took out the soup and I spoke again, “Aren’t I the one supposed to be giving you the silent treatment?!”

Doyoung just shrugged as he took a bowl and poured soup into it, “I don’t know…”

“Nice to hear you are still able to speak—”

“Are you not mad?” Doyoung cut me off before I could finish my sarcastic remark and I glared at him.

“I’m very mad, but it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop acknowledging you, yeah? What kind of shit person does that?” I rolled my eyes and Doyoung chuckled, throwing a glance at me as he sat at the table to eat.

“The me kind of shit person apparently.” I chuckled and resumed eating as Doyoung did too. I lowered the volume of the TV a little bit and turned back towards him again, taking in his attire. His uniform changed; I didn’t notice it this morning.

“You have a new uniform?” I asked with a grin and Doyoung nodded, looking down at himself.

“Yeah, I got it today.” I nodded and bit into the meatball.

“Well, congratulations—next time lock the mafia guys up, yeah?” Doyoung paused and I knew it was too soon to joke about this, but I wasn’t exactly joking. My tone wasn’t playful at all and Doyoung sighed, wordlessly nodding as he started slurping his soup.

“Were you that hungry? You didn’t even change…” I wondered as Doyoung finished eating and stood up.

“No, but I have to go to the funeral house. It’s Sana’s watcher…” My lips formed a thin line as I nodded, finishing my dinner wordlessly as Doyoung moved around the kitchen. He squeezed some lemon in his water and drank it, closing his eyes for a second. His body seemed tense and he was hunched a little forward as he washed away the dishes he used.

“Don’t come too late, you should rest more.” I said as Doyoung nodded and put on his shoes, taking his keys.

“You too, don’t wait for me.” He said and I nodded, watching him leave the house. The locked the door and I sighed, getting up from the couch. I walked to the sink and washed the plate and fork I used, putting them away. I left the TV on as I just wanted to change into my pajamas and go back to watch something before bed. But as I reached my door, I heard footsteps outside the front door and knocking. Rolling my eyes, I walked to the front door and unlocked it, ready to tease Doyoung for forgetting something at home again. But it wasn’t Doyoung. I froze as I stared at Wonwoo’s face, goosebumps suddenly covering my body. Then I realized it was Wonwoo and quickly tried to slam the door closed, but Wonwoo was quick to react and he started pushing it back. I hissed and put all of my weight against it, struggling to close it as Wonwoo was pushing just as hard to open it up. I was wearing socks and my right leg slipped on the tiles and Wonwoo gained advantage as my weight shifted. He was able to push it wide enough to slip inside and I quickly abandoned the thought of trying to keep him out of the house and ran to the cupboard full of knives. I quickly opened it and took out the sharpest knife we had and turned around, just in time as Wonwoo almost reached me.

“Stay away!” I pointed the knife at him and he stayed rooted, his sharp eyes gazing into mine, “What do you want? I didn’t say anything to anyone—Doyoung already knew about you! You want your bloody t-shirt?! It’s in my room!”

Wonwoo remained silent and I jerked my hand slightly, showing him that I wasn’t afraid to stab him. I wouldn’t go down without a good fight, in case he thought I was scared of him. Which I was, but I was angrier right now and it ruled over my fear.

“I just came to talk.” Wonwoo said calmly and I chuckled dryly, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, nice talking. This is how you usually do it? You break into someone’s house and get threatened by a knife and then just…talk?”

“I usually don’t get threatened.” Wonwoo answered with a shrug and I huffed, eyes darting towards my phone that was on the coffee table. If I outsmart Wonwoo, I can get to my phone and run inside my room and jump out the window. Then he can try and talk to me, but I won’t be here anymore.

“Well…less stressful for you, I guess.” I tried stalling, gripping the knife tighter, “But I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Just listen to me, I’m not here to hurt you.” Wonwoo’s voice softened and his eyes did too as he tried pleading me with his gaze. I rolled my eyes and then lunged towards him, without the intention of stabbing him. I just wanted to take him off guard, to distract him. And it worked as he jumped back with a gasp, his sharp eyes widening. I dropped the knife and pushed him hard, making him fall onto his butt. I quickly ran around him and got to the fridge when I was grabbed. Well, obviously my plan wasn’t a smart one and this is why Doyoung checked on me regularly. I really needed someone to look after me. I yelped as Wonwoo’s arms went around my waist and roughly yanked me back, pinning me against the table with his body. He didn’t look very pleased and my heart started beating quickly, thinking of a way to free myself from his grip. I could either kneel him or just try and headbutt him, but it seemed like Wonwoo guessed what I was thinking as his lean and muscular body molded into mine. My wrists were pinned to the table and I shivered, his cologne hitting my nose hard. He smelled like musk and gunpowder again and he was so close I could count his lashes if I wanted to. I craned my head back and tried to move around, but it only made me feel more parts of body and that was too much just yet.

Look at this compromising position, Y/N. All you have to do is lean in and open your knees, isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along? We are guessing Wonwoo wants the same thing…not that we are complaining.

I tried to remain unexpressive as the voices suddenly returned and were very loud, of course they’d come back in a situation like this one.

“Well, this is very uncomfortable.” I said quietly, maintaining the eye contact with Wonwoo. My heart was beating fast and I could feel the heat in my cheeks. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Why do I still like him? After yesterday…how can I still like him?

“Well, you didn’t give me a choice.” Wonwoo muttered, his low voice vibrating against his chest and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” I scoffed and then glared at him, “why would I want to talk to a criminal? Let alone give him a chance to explain himself?”

“Did you let your brother explain himself?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose and I glanced away, trying to free my wrists again.

“Kind of…” Wonwoo just hummed and lessened his hold on my wrist so that it didn’t hurt anymore. The bicep he squeezed so hard was now a beautiful shade of green and purple.

“Then it’s my turn—”

“Whatever Wonwoo, I really don’t care. You’re part of the mafia and you robbed the jewelry shops Mark asked me to watch yesterday. And then you had to run away because Mark alerted the police thanks to me and then very sadly you got in the same cab with me. And look at my bicep, you did that.” I snapped, looking down at the bruise as Wonwoo’s gaze followed. His eyebrows furrowed and he sighed, looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He muttered with remorse as he looked at it again. His words and reaction were genuine but I just rolled my eyes.

“A little late for that, now—” I shoved myself into him, but it did nothing, “Let go of me.”

Wonwoo’s lips pulled in a straight line and he shook his head, seemingly thinking about what to do next. But I started struggling and trying to move him back so that I would be able to knee him. But he probably knew that was what I was trying to do and squeezed my legs together between his.

“God, the second I get out of your hold I will beat you up so badly, Wonwoo, no one will be able to recognize you—” Wonwoo’s deep laughter echoed in the house as I looked at him menacingly. I wasn’t joking, I really wanted to beat him up and I would, but I needed to free myself first.

“I love how you underestimate me; the shock will be bigger once I’m done—” But Wonwoo’s laughter was so contagious that I had to fight back my own. His nose was scrunched up and I just noticed how he wasn’t wearing glasses. His hair was styled back and he seemed to be wearing some fancy clothes, his pants were silky. He was very attractive, but I tried to ignore my sudden thirst for him. So, I looked away and he slowly stopped laughing, my eyes fell on the front door as I tried coming up with another escape route. But on the ground were five white lilies and I felt my mind go blank as I stared at them. There’s no possible way anyone brought those in, Doyoung and I never buy white lilies, and Wonwoo is the only one that just barged in. Wonwoo.

“Oh my God,” I muttered in despair, looking at Wonwoo all frantic, “Did you—bring those flowers? Wonwoo?!”

Wonwoo looked at the flowers and cleared his throat, looking back at me, “Yeah.”

“Oh my God.” I muttered again and felt like a deer caught in headlights. It was Wonwoo all along? What is happening? I don’t understand anything anymore!

Well…at least you found out who your secret admirer is. And it’s Wonwoo, you should be happy it’s him and not some old creep—

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, squeezing my eyes shut, “This can’t be happening. No fucking way.”

Wonwoo looked confused when I opened my eyes and looked at him, “You were breaking in our house for two weeks?!”

“You’re the one to make a scene, huh?” Wonwoo suddenly raised his voice and his eyes narrowed as he started glaring at me, “You’ve been stalking me for two weeks.”

I gaped at him and blinked, taken off guard, “I—I wasn’t—what?”

“Yeah, you really thought I wouldn’t know?” He chuckled unamused, “I’m surprised it took you this long to realize it was me bringing the flowers.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I looked at him confused, “How was I supposed to know?! I thought you had no idea I was watching you—”

“Stalking me.”

“Stalking you, whatever,” I rolled my eyes, trying to make sense of the situation, “It doesn’t give you the right to break in my room and—were you marking your territory or some shit mafias do? Were you showing other mafias that you were to be the one to kill me—”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed and I tried to push him away again, my back was becoming numb, “You fantasize too much. Mafias don’t do that, but—”

“But what?!” I snapped, eyes widening.

“I did think of killing you in the first three days of you stalking me.” Wonwoo finished with a smirk. My heart skipped another beat as I started breathing faster, his musky scent made me feel dizzy.

“What?!” I exclaimed and started struggling against Wonwoo again, trying to free myself, “For God’s sake, I can’t feel my back anymore, Wonwoo!”

He gave me a look that said if I tried running away again he’d tie me to a chair and leave me there until Doyoung returned, he probably would’ve gagged me too, so I just sighed and let go of all muscles, softening my body. Wonwoo’s eyes gazed into mine intently and his hold slowly loosened as he seemed to lean in subconsciously. My eyes fell onto his lips and realized how plump his upper lip was, but we both snapped out if at the same time as he stepped back and I jumped away from the table, breathing hard. I massaged my lower back as best as I could as I licked my lips and looked at Wonwoo with a glare.

“I don’t like what I’m about to say—” And I took a deep breath and watched as Wonwoo started smirking again, “But what if…we both just forget about all the shit we did and…go on and live our lives like we never met. And, I don’t know, get some therapy as we both apparently need it badly.”

My words made Wonwoo laugh again and I actually smiled this time too, feeling tired after all the new information dumped on me.

“I can’t do that,” Wonwoo said once his laughter died down, “I can’t continue living like I never met you.”

I shrugged and ran my hands through my hair, looking away from him, “Well, I can and I will. So, you better do the same or else I’ll tell Doyoung about everything and he’ll be really pissed and won’t care about Mingyu or whoever, yeah?”

Look at our Y/N lying like that, as if all of this didn’t happen because of her.

I felt Wonwoo move closer to me and his fingers ghosted over the bruise on my left bicep, “Can you really pretend I don’t exist? When you started this?”

“I didn’t start shit!” I snapped and turned my body away from his, “I stalked you for two weeks and I won’t do it anymore because I got over you. I always do. It never lasts for long, you’re not special.”

But he is Y/N, you know it. He knows it.

“Really?” Wonwoo muttered with a small smile and I just shrugged, avoiding his gaze, “Because I watched you the whole time we were in the same Coffee Shop. You were following that businessman, working for Mark, I assume. I noticed how you couldn’t stay still and how you whispered things to yourself. How the barista lit up when she saw you and talked to you. If you wouldn’t have stalked me after that day, I would’ve still found you.”

I just gulped and felt all the anger, frustration, fear melt away as I slowly looked at Wonwoo, “But you broke inside my bedroom…to give me flowers…”

My voice was small and he nodded as he stepped closer, placing his palm on my cheek. I almost jumped at how warm his palm was again and tried to ignore the rapid beat of my heart, “And I was wrong to do that…sorry.”

“Sorry for stalking you.” I muttered and a small grin appeared on Wonwoo’s lips as he closed the distance between our bodies again.

“I’m also sorry for the other bad things I did.” Wonwoo added.

“Yeah, fuck you.” I said with a chuckle and his grin widened into a smile.

You’d love that, wouldn’t you, Y/N?

I rolled my eyes at the voices but Wonwoo didn’t react as he leaned down and his red lips pressed against my cheek, making me blush instantly. Why did I forgive him so easily? Maybe because both of us fucked up big time this time.

“I still expect to see you tomorrow at lunch for our date, so tell Mark to stay at home.” My eyes widened as Wonwoo stepped back, letting go of my cheek.

“How do you know—”

“I’m in the mafia, remember? I know everything.” He winked and walked towards the front door.

“And you called me the stalker.” He chuckled as he opened the door and stepped outside.

“Don’t tell Doyoung just yet, he’s very mad for what I did yesterday—”

“Yeah, me too.” I cut him off and Wonwoo gave me an apologetic smile.

“Sleep well.”

“Don’t break in my room anymore!” I called out as he walked down towards the gate, turning around to wave at me. I rolled my eyes and closed the front door, locking it. Jesus, this really is not how I expected things to turn out. I don’t think I need to watch any TV to feel sleepy. This is my cue to rest and worry about what to wear tomorrow for lunch.

You can wear whatever, Wonwoo is head over heels for you, Y/N. And as we’re seeing, you’re too for him.

[tommyhardyx]

Mr Solomons - Chapter Five

** Updated Version **

Pairing: Modern!Alfie Solomons Word Count: 4.4K Summary: It's finally time for your date with Alfie. Warnings: smut, swearing Note: And here we go it's time for the first date! I hope you enjoy and please let me know if you do!

Ever since you agreed to the date with Alfie you’ve struggled to keep the man out of your mind.

The days leading up to Saturday begin to drag, work becomes boring and repetitive as you spend your days researching an upcoming article, and you find yourself constantly checking the clock hoping it’s getting closer and closer to the weekend so you can finally put all your focus into Alfie.

At coffee, with friends, you tune out unintentionally, your mind always going back to him. You had spoken to him a couple of more times since he asked you out, trying to coax the meaning behind why you need a leather jacket to go out to dinner with him but he never breaks, never gives you anything more to go on than ‘just trust me, you’ll need it’.

When Saturday finally rolls around, the mixture of excitement and anxiety for the night ahead wakes you earlier than intended and after a morning spent pacing around the house with nothing better to do than think about what might come from tonight Nancy finally has enough, dragging you out to your favourite coffee shop to take your mind off Alfie, refusing to address any mention of him and for the first time since you said yes you find yourself distracted, Alfie banished from your mind finally.

By the time you get home it’s late enough to start getting ready, Nancy blasts loud music to get you in a good mood while she helps you decide on your outfit for the night, helping with your makeup and hair, keeping you smiling and laughing until it’s only a few minutes to 7. She gives you one last tight hug before sending you out the door, a smile of luck and an encouragement not to come home tonight.

Waiting on the pavement outside your building, butterflies flying up a storm in your stomach, a smile pushes its way onto your face as the reason for Alfie’s confusing text asking you to wear a leather jacket finally makes sense.

He pulls up to the curb right in front of you, the motorbike he sits on loud enough to drown out your thoughts of worry as he turns off the engine and pulls off his helmet grinning at you, his eyebrows lifting as he looks over you.

“You look incredible,” he says, taking a moment to look over your body. “You ever ridden one of these?”

You shake your head as he offers a second helmet to you, his smile a comfort as you reach out a hesitant hand to take the helmet.

“All you gotta do, yeah, is hold on tight.”

Slipping the helmet over your hair, praying it won’t mess it up too much after all the time you and Nancy spent on it, you ease yourself onto the bike behind Alfie, your arms immediately slipping around his waist as you push your body against his back.

“Good to go?” he asks, and you nod. He must notice your anxiety, his hand moving to squeeze one of your own gently “Don’t worry love, I won’t let you get hurt yeah?”

Nodding slightly you rest your head against his back and say quietly. “I trust you.”

Your hands grip each other as Alfie revs the engine, your stomach doing a little flip as he pulls out onto the road and you swear you hear him chuckle when your arms tighten around his body.

It’s surprisingly easy to distract yourself from your fear as you focus on the feel of Alfie’s body beneath your arms, feeling his muscled torso this close to you has you thinking less about the possibility of crashing and more about what he might look like without his shirt off.

You’re so distracted by your thoughts that you don’t realise at first that you’ve slowed to a stop, and that Alfie has cut the engine until he speaks.

“So, how was that?”

It takes a minute for the question to sink in, and you’re sure he knows what has got you so distracted by the smirk on his face. He swings himself off the bike, waiting for you to take your helmet off to hold a hand out to you.

“Not as bad as I thought,” you admit, taking his offered hand as he helps you off the bike. “Still terrifying though.”

“Told ya I wouldn’t let you get hurt,” he says with a wink.

You smile up at him, enjoying the feeling of his large hand holding yours so much that you squeeze it tight when he tries to pull away, his smile mirroring yours at the motion.

“Right, well we’re in here,” he explains, pointing to a Jewish restaurant in front of you. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! You’ll have to tell me what’s good though, I haven’t eaten much Jewish food before,” you admit.

He nods, holding the door open for you. “I can do that.”

The inside of the restaurant is small, cozy even, setting you at ease as a waiter guides you to your table and Alfie holds your chair out for you.

Both of you hang your leather jackets over the back of your chairs, Alfie’s outfit underneath finally showing itself properly. The crisp white shirt, combined with the black slacks and vest is a good look for him. He has the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, giving you a glimpse at some of the tattoos that litter his skin.

Alfie helps as you read through the menu, pointing out some of his favourite dishes always with little anecdotes of his mother making them for him when he was young, his love for her clear every time he speaks about her.

As your food is placed in front of you, you give him a look.

“I’m putting my trust in you, if I don’t like this it’s your fault,” you tease and he gives you one of his wide grins.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to ya if you don’t,” he promises with a wink.

“I’m holding you to that,” you tell him, pointing your fork at him before taking your first bite.

The food is delicious, the slight moan you let out on purpose causing a smirk to spread onto Alfie’s face and you’re sure you notice his tongue flick across his lips.

“Alright then?”

“It’s incredible,” you mutter, digging into the dish once again and enjoying the way Alfie smiles at you as you eat.

The conversation flows as the meal goes on, your nerves disappear the more he asks about your life and your family,

As dinner comes to an end and the two of you make your way back outside to his bike you realise you don’t want the night to end quite yet, though to come out and just say you’d like to go back to his place might sound a little desperate. He hands your helmet to you, the question on his lips as he intently looks you over, looking for any sign you might want to get out of this now.

“Do you want to come back to my place for a bit? I’m sure Cyril would like to see you again,” he says, the offer of his dog making the offer sound a little less like all he wants is to get you into bed.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you almost whisper, slipping the helmet back on.

When you reach Alfie’s building, you have to make an effort not to allow your jaw to hang open. The massive brick building looks to be an old factory that has been converted into flats, and approaching the large brown metal door, you wait a step behind Alfie as he types in the code for the door.

“This is where you live?” you ask, and Alife smirks as he opens the door for you.

“It is,” he says, following you inside and guiding you through the foyer to wait by the elevator with a hand resting on your lower back.

Built into the exposed brick wall beside the elevator is a bench lined with red velvet and you sink into it while looking around the room, glad to get off your feet for a moment.

“This place is incredible,” you tell him, looking around in an attempt to take everything in.

Alfie watches you, one hand in his pocket while he twists one of his rings around his finger.

“Used to be a piano factory in the 1800s, then a photography space, and now apartments. I was one of the first to buy ‘ere. It’s close to the distillery and big enough for Cyril not to feel cramped,” he explains.

The elevator door opens, and he holds out a hand that you happily take as he helps you off the bench and into the elevator, your feet still burning from your shoes.

“Oh well Cyril is of course the most important,” you say, grinning at the man.

Inside the apartment you can’t help but look around in wonder, the place is huge with a gorgeous open kitchen and massive curved sofa facing a wall of bookshelves with a large TV in the middle. Just like the foyer the apartment is filled with exposed brick walls, and metal, all to great effect.

You’re so preoccupied with the apartment you almost miss the thumping sound of heavy paws on the wooden floors.

“Hello Cyril,” you say as the dog comes running over, his tail wagging madly behind him and Alfie holds onto the dog’s collar to keep him from tackling you to the ground. You reach to scratch behind the dog’s ears, smiling at the way he leans into your touch.

“Think he missed ya,” Alfie says, squatting down to the dog’s level.

Watching Alfie with Cyril never fails to make you smile, the man’s face lighting up at the mere sight of his dog, his chuckle making your stomach flip in the best possible way as he scratches under the dog’s chin.

“How’re you doin’ mate?”

You make your way to a wall of framed photos, there’s one of a woman you assume is Alfie’s mother holding a young boy which could be no one but Alfie himself in her arms, another more recent photo of Alfie and Ollie outside the distillery, and another of Alfie with his arm around a girl that must be his sister.

“Is this Hannah?” you ask as Alfie comes to stand by your side.

“Hm? Yeah, that’s her, made me take that photo with her,” he admits, running a hand over his beard.

“What’s she like?”

“She’s brilliant. Fucking smart, don’t know where she got that from, she’s an engineer. She’s also a pain in my arse, but I love her,” he explains, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I’d love to meet her someday,” you say as you turn to the photo of him and Ollie. “When was this taken?”

“Day we opened the distillery. Fuck, I was terrified that day, had no fucking clue if we would fail or succeed. Ollie kept me from panicking. Yeah, he kept me calm. He’s good at that,” he explains.

He rubs a hand over the back of his head, a move that almost seems like nerves as he keeps his gaze on the photo in front of him.

“He encouraged me to ask you out, so if this goes well expect him to never fucking shut up about it,” he mutters, making you laugh.

The two of you make your way to the couch, the conversation flowing long enough that Cyril gets bored with the lack of attention and goes off to occupy himself some other way and you find yourself moving closer to Alfie, his arm resting along the top of the couch just beside your head.

As the two of you continue to talk, your eyes move from his face down his toned body and you begin to wonder just what he looks like underneath those clothes.

Alfie’s hand settles on your hip, his face mere inches from your own so close you can feel his warm breath on your skin. His eyes search your face, moving from your eyes down to your lips and your heart pounds with anticipation as you wait for him to make his move.

“Are you going to kiss me or stare at me all night?” you whisper.

He grins, his free hand reaching to cup your cheek as he finally presses his plump lips against your own. Your hands move slowly up his chest, fingers grasping the material of his shirt.

“Finally,” you whisper, mouth breaking into a grin as he rests his forehead against yours.

Alfie matches your grin, his hands settling firmly on your hips as he lifts you with ease, settling you onto his lap as his lips find yours again his tongue slipping into your mouth tangling with your own.

Your hands move up his muscular arms, the feeling of them beneath your fingers making you groan into his mouth.

“Let’s move to the bedroom yeah?” he asks, voice gruff as his lips press along your jaw.

“Yes,” is your breathless response, your fingers tangling in his hair as he stands, your legs wrapping around his waist.

His hands find your backside, squeezing the skin as he carries you to his bedroom, kicking the door closed before Cyril can find you and follow you in.

Alfie sets you down on your feet and you immediately reach for the buttons on his vest, desperate to see the body you’d felt beneath his clothes on his bike. You manage to get the vest off, pushing it down his arms and immediately do the same to his shirt, grinning at the sight of his muscular, tattoo-covered chest.

“See something you like?”

“I do indeed,” you tell him, reaching up to kiss his lips as your hands find the buckle on his belt, easily getting it open before unbuttoning his trousers and shoving them down his hips.

“Right, your turn then,” he says.

His hands are rough as he pulls off your clothes, the outfit you’d painstakingly picked out for tonight mixing with his own discarded on the floor.

Alfie groans at the sight of you in just your black lace underwear, and when you reach to hook your fingers in the waistband his hand is quick to cover your own.

“Leave ‘em on,” he mutters, his lips finding yours once again as he pulls your body against his.

His hands roam over your back, moving down to your lace covered backside, fingers digging into the skin as he lifts you up and carries you over to the bed, dropping you onto your knees.

Alfie watches, hungry expression on his face as you lie back against the mattress, your legs opening to give him a view that makes his cock twitch, but he ignores it as he climbs onto the bed, hands reaching for your legs as he pulls you closer to him.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, hooking your legs onto his shoulders.

His lips press a trail of kisses down the inside of your thighs, his beard brushing softly against your skin as his fingers brush along the lace of your panties, hooking a finger along the strip of material hiding your slit from view.

A gasp leaves your lips as his tongue first runs along your slit, flicking against your clit. He clearly knows what he’s doing, he’s well practised and you both know it so you let your head fall back and enjoy it, his tongue feeling incredible against the most sensitive part of you.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you feel your orgasm impending, his tongue working you faster as you move your hips rubbing yourself against his face.

The moan that escapes your lips as your orgasm crashes over you is louder than any you’ve let out during sex, and your fingers grasp his hair tighter as you come down from your high.

“Fuck,” you mumble, head tipped back as Alfie pulls away, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand watching you with a grin your grasp on his hair finally relaxing.

“Alright, there love?”

You groan, looking down at him and rolling your eyes at the smug grin on his face as he takes hold of the black lace between his teeth and slowly pulls them down your legs.

Discarding them, Alfie kisses his way up your body and once he’s close enough, you take his face in your hands, pulling him closer so you can kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips as his hands find your waist.

“You have condoms?” you whisper against his lips.

“In the drawer,” he mutters, pulling away to reach over to fish a condom out of the drawer. He stiffens as you reach down to grasp his already hard cock in your hand swearing as you begin to slowly stroke him.

Alfie settles onto his knees, fumbling with the condom while trying to get it open as you continue you stroke him grinning at how distracted he is with just one hand on his cock.

“Need some help?” you ask, earning a glare from him as he finally tears open the packet.

“Got it,” he mutters, swatting your hand away so he can roll the condom on himself, stroking his cock a few times as you lie back against the pillows, smiling up at him as he watches you, mesmerised by your body.

He lines himself up with you, rubbing himself along your slit as you reach for him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him down closer to you.

“Fuck,” Alfie groans at the same time you let out a gasp as he finally slides into you, his thickness filling you up. He pauses for a minute, his lips finding your own once again and your nails dig into his back as he starts to thrust.

He feels perfect inside of you, much better than previous lovers. The way he holds you as he thrusts into you, his lips kissing every inch of your skin he can reach, your nails scratch paths down his back as you wrap your legs around his waist.

You try to match his pace, moving your hips back into him as he trusts, but soon enough he takes over, and you do nothing but lie there and let him, the feeling of him making your fingers grip him as tight as you can, your toes curl, and your lips unable to say anything other than his name.

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing the sensitive ball of nerves as you find yourself getting closer to the edge again.

Your lips collide with his as you both find your climax, your tongues tangling together as you moan into his mouth. He continues to thrust until you’re both spent, finally pulling out as he pulls his lips away from yours.

Alfie rests his forehead on your chest as he catches his breath, his hands holding your waist as you run your fingers through his hair, feeling guilty for how hard you pulled on it earlier.

Soon enough he sits up, pressing his lips to yours.

“I’ll be back in just a minute,” he says, his lips brushing yours.

He gets up and you watch his bare arse as he makes his way into the en suite.

Left alone with your thoughts, you sigh as you sink back into the pillows, slipping beneath the blankets as the cool air makes a shiver run through your naked body. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go, you never do this on the first date, never go this far so quickly. But somehow, with Alfie, it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels right.

Alfie makes his way back into the room and climbs into bed beside you, those big arms reaching towards you to hold you tight against his body and tucking your head in under his chin.

“So you’re a cuddler are you?” you tease, settling into his chest.

“You can’t tell me this ain’t fucking nice,” he says, lips pressing against the top of your head.

It is nice, so nice that you don’t want to leave. But this is only the first date, you never intended to have sex on the first date and now you’re on the verge of already spending the night with him when all you intended for tonight was to have dinner.

You can already imagine the look on Nancy’s face if you come home tomorrow morning, still wearing the outfit you’d worn tonight. The idea of that smug look alone is enough for you to shift so you can kiss him softly.

“I should go,” you whisper against his lips.

“Stay the night,” he mutters, his arms tightening around you as you attempt to pull away. “I’ll cook ya breakfast in the morning.”

“Oh well that changes things,” you tease.

“Just stay.” Alfie’s eyes are drifting shut, his face softening as he holds you a little tighter and while you’re telling yourself to take this slow, that you really should leave and give yourself time to process the night’s events, everything about him is telling you to stay.

Gently you press a kiss to his chest, your hand gently rubbing his side as you settle in against him. His fingers brush softly along your arm and a tired smile stretches across your face.

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

The first thing you notice the following morning is Alfie’s arms still wrapped around you.

It takes you a minute to work out what’s going on, where you are and why arms are holding you against a solid chest, but soon enough the night before comes back to you. Alfie’s promise of breakfast and his tired voice asking you to stay the night brings a smile to your face as you glance up at him.

“Good morning.”

He’s awake but just, his eyes half open, a deep frown on his face as he reaches to rub his eyes with one hand.

“Mornin’,” he mutters, voice deep from sleep.

You press a kiss to his chest, earning a grumble from him as he throws his arm over his eyes to block out the light breaking through the gaps around the edges of the blinds.

“Not a morning person?” you ask, fingers curling in his beard.

“Didn’t I fucking warn you ‘bout that?”

“Nope. It’s cute though,” you tell him, laughing when he grunts in response.

You sit up, pulling out of his grip and glance around the room looking for wherever your clothes ended up last night.

“Third drawer, grab a shirt if you want,” he mutters, pointing to the chest of drawers on the other side of the room.

“Thanks,” you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek before sliding out of the bed.

As you approach the drawers, you hear the sound of scratching on the bedroom door followed by a loud whine. Cyril.

“Fucking hell,” Alfie mutters.

“Where do you keep the dog food? I’ll feed him,” you offer, slipping a grey t-shirt over your head and your underwear back up your legs.

“It’s in the kitchen. Can make yourself a cup of coffee while you’re out there if you want.”

“You want one?”

“I’ll get it when I’m awake,” he mutters, turning over to bury his face in the pillow. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled. “Don’t go making any fucking breakfast, told ya I’d do it.”

Opening the bedroom door, you manage to slip out without letting Cyril in to disturb Alfie and lead the large dog out into the kitchen. You fill up both his food and water dishes before making a cup of coffee, sinking into the couch with it and smiling when Cyril comes to join you, his head resting on your lap.

The morning is quiet, peaceful, as you sip your coffee and gently brush your fingers through the dog’s fur.

Soon enough Alfie emerges from the bedroom, dressed in a matching shirt, his hair a mess atop his head.

“You awake now?” you ask, watching as he makes his way over to you, his frown hidden partially behind a pair of glasses you’ve never seen him wearing before.

“Partially,” he says, stopping to pat Cyril’s head.

“I didn’t know you wear glasses,” you point out, smiling as he leans in to press a kiss to your head.

“I wear contacts when I go out. Too fucking tired this early in the morning to put ‘em in,” he explains, swiping your cup of coffee from your hand and taking a sip.

He twists his face up in disgust, handing the mug back to you as you laugh.

“Fucking sugar. How do you drink it so sweet?”

“It’s because I’m so sweet,” you joke, earning another kiss to the top of your head.

“That’s true. Now, breakfast,” he says, clapping his hands together startling Cyril who quickly lifts his head to see what the noise was. “Relax mate, only me. Pancakes sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Do you want help?”

“Nope. You keep that pretty arse of yours right there, yeah?”

You grin up at him, angling your chin just right before speaking. “Okay, now come give me a kiss.”

He happily obliges you, leaning down to press his soft lips to yours before heading off towards the kitchen. You watch over the back of the couch as he cooks, looking content as he cooks and you decide to join him.

“Thought I told you to stay over there,” he says as you pull yourself up onto the benchtop.

“I wanted to be a little closer to you,” you tell him.

Alfie grins as he comes to stand between your legs, your hands finding his hips as you bring his face down to yours.

“If they burn them cause you’re fucking distracting me you’re eating the burnt ones,” he mumbles against your lips.

“Worth it.”

He chuckles against you, his chest rumbling with laughter as he presses a kiss to your forehead. With ease he pulls himself from your grip, so he can flip the pancake in the pan.

“Too bad you put your shirt back on, should have left it off,” you comment, grinning at the glare he shoots at you.

“You think so aye?”

You nod, grin widening as he sighs and strips off his shirt, playfully throwing it at you.

“Much better.”

Watching Alfie, his hair a mess, bleary eyes hidden behind his glasses, mouth stretched open in a yawn as he cooks you breakfast, you find yourself yearning for more of this in the future.

Tags: @tommymcartney @misselsbells06 @lauren-raines-x @innerpaperexpertcloud @lizyshores

Next Chapter

[trinketprince]

Meet the Bachelorettes of Coral Island!

Check out the Bachelors! Check out the Townies!

Yuri

When she is not busy keeping the islanders healthy, she can be spotted hanging out or playing chess at the beach shack; She also likes tattoos, pastel hair, and playing pool. Yuri is not your usual MD— she spent her 20s as a doctor who crossed many borders, frequently dispatched to remote areas to practice for little to no pay. Presumably why she has no decent savings and decided to settle in Starlet Town, a boat ride away from her hometown, Tosaka. She is close with her roommate Millie and fellow MD, Charles.

Loves: Fish sandwich, green curry, lobster Hates: Flowers

Lily

Despite having a well-paid remote job, Lily still lives at home with her dad and brother, Theo (a bachelor). Usually, she spends her days working at home and would visit the lake or library on the weekend. Once a week, usually on a Monday, Lily would stay at the Abandoned Villa, as a favor to her good friend, Nina. She watches the Villa while Nina’s away and uses that time to recuperate. Lily loves miniature bonsais.

Loves: Kimchi, onigiri, omurice, bonsais Hates: Diamond

Eva

She is a bachelorette. She is a happy-go-lucky baker who works at the general store. She enjoys talking to the islanders, be it local, new, visitors, everybody! And is good friends with a lot of them. Currently, Eva doesn't have a lot of savings but when she does, has dreams to visit more exotic places. According to the islanders, Eva is always a delight to talk to— a positive ray of sunshine. A fan of red velvet cakes and cookies. Sews most of her clothes herself!

Loves: Cookies, Orchids Hates: Garlic

Leah

She lives her bachelorette life with her father and stepmom in an old massive house that the locals call “The Mansion.” She is a self-hired, yoga instructor at the community center and takes her online presence seriously. She spends her day wandering around the island with a camera on hand. Leah’s mother is an art dealer who travels the world constantly. So when her parents divorced, after long deliberation between the lawyers and what seems like a lifetime worth of legal fees, they decided that it would be best for Leah to stay with her dad. This was to retain some sort of stability in her life. She loves to be surrounded by nature, fine arts and a closet full of designer collections. Dislikes mushrooms and eggs.

Loves: Pearl Hates: All fish

Macy

She grew up on a neighboring island and now lives full time at the Inn. She makes a living by selling images to a visual media company, Pletty inc.  Before Coral Island, she went to university for finance in Plotera, tried her luck working a corporate job for 3 years while selling photography as a side gig. At one point, she decided to pursue photography professionally and left her corporate job. Before embarking on a life as an artist, she moved back home for a year, catching up with her family while preparing for her island-hopping career. Though she didn't say how long she would stay in Coral Island, she mentioned that she would eventually move on to another island, unless she has a good reason not to. An only child. She loves simple nights, taking pictures, playing video games and Stephen, her rescued lobster.

Loves: Pizza Hates: Pickles

Nina

This bachelorette technically doesn't live in Coral Island anymore, but still visits her vacation home at the beach, from time to time. Aside from wild rumors around town, she's never talked about her abrupt departure, so it remains a mystery until now.  Nina is well educated and enjoys lavish vacations. Close friends with Suki. Hates bananas but loves banana fritters.

Loves: Banana fritter, Flower bouquet Hates: Banana, Tomato soup

Zarah

An eligible bachelorette who is an adventurer at heart. Zarah lives on a boat. She enjoys going around the island and finding treasures, be it gems, old artifacts, or a buried history. Zarah was born and raised on the other side of Coral Island. When her boat is not docked at its usual place, she is presumed to visit her family. But what really is going on in her life, nobody really knows. She can be a bit mysterious at times. Allergic to cats.

Loves: Rambutan, Azurite Hates: Roasted Chesnuts

Alice

Alongside her twin sister Suki, they own, run, and live by the beach in Coral Inn. Running a business is hard, and running it with your sister is harder. Alice spends her days working at the inn and her free time hanging out with friends in town. She is a good friend with Noah, and they are often spotted together grabbing morning coffee—or in-depth discussion about unexplainable phenomenons. Thinks pizza is overrated. Loves minced jackfruit pies.

Loves: Green smoothies Hates: Pizza

Suki

She is recently divorced and, according to her nightstand, currently “finding love from within,” and learning “how to expand love.” Focusing on herself, she drowns herself in work, exercise, and building a healthy co-parenting relationship with her ex. Though she is no longer a Sanchez, she still keeps a close relationship with the whole family. Loves minced jackfruit pies.

Loves: Green smoothies Hates: Pizza, Pineapple upside down-cake

Millie

She owns the house in Garden Lane and rents one of the rooms out to Yuri. She works at the Library and likes to spend her free time bird watching. Not only does she take good care of the books at the Library, her responsibility includes helping the Mayor with arranging festivals, donations, etc. She loves old books restorations. Wears glasses.

Loves: Veggie ramen Hates: Fish

Taken from the Update Tabs on Coral Island’s Kickstarter

These are all of the Bachelorettes so far, I’m not sure if there will be more bachelorettes added in the future!

Check out Coral Island’s Twitter, Kickstarter and Website for more info on the game!

Check out Coral Island’s steam page!

[idreamofplaid]

Bigger Dreams

Square Filled: Photgrapher!Jensen for @spnchristmasbingo & Pregnancy for @spnfluffbingo

Characters: Jensen x Reader 

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes dreams can change, and sometimes they can work out even more beautifully than you imagined.

Word Count: 2174

Created for @spnchristmasbingo & @spnfluffbingo

He would be home soon, and you’d be waiting for him by the door, well near it at least, with a cup of hot coffee spiked with Irish Cream. The barometer outside had dropped, just a little more and snow for Christmas was a possibility. The warmth in the cup would drive the chill out of him and put him in a better mood.

You heard Jensen’s key in the lock right on schedule. He always hurried home as soon as he could. Your relationship was still new, and you couldn’t get enough of each other. He smiled as soon as he saw you, closed the door, and crossed your tiny living room to join you on the sofa.

As he sat down, you held out his cup of coffee. He took it from you, letting his fingertips brush over yours as he did. “How was it today?” You started to massage his shoulders, working out the stress induced kinks there while you waited for his answer.

Jensen relaxed under your touch. “Three screamers, two criers, and one runner,” he answered, rolling his neck and making a contented sound. It was working; he was feeling better and letting the tension of the day fall away. 

You stopped massaging and let your hands rest on his shoulders. “I’m sorry, babe.” Jensen considered photography an art, his chosen artform; but it was hard to make a living as an artist. Until he was able to do that, he made a living in the much more lucrative world of family photography; and the holidays were the busiest time of year in that line of work. It seemed nearly every parent in the city decided it was necessary to dress their kids up in red velvet and have professional photographs made.

You could understand why they would want to do that, much better now. Absentmindedly, you ran your hand over your stomach. Jensen never said much about the kids he took pictures of, except how much he hated it. They wouldn’t sit still, wouldn’t smile, and the worst was when siblings started fighting. That could really “fuck up a schedule,” and the frequent result was an unhappy client with some expensive pictures of red faced kids.

It made what you needed to tell him that much harder. This pregnancy wasn’t planned, instead it was the result of a night of too many tequila shots that made the two of you careless, but from the first moment the doctor had verified there was a baby growing inside you; you’d loved your child. It was an instant and all consuming love. Problem was, you had no idea how Jensen felt about being a parent or how he was going to react.

The only time you’d ever talked about children was when he told you about the kids he worked with, and those conversations weren’t favorable. Maybe it’d be better to give him a chance to shower and change clothes. You could feed him and then tell him. 

Several minutes later, Jensen was wearing his favorite henley and a pair of jeans. You were putting the last of the dishes on the table as he walked up behind you and circled his hands around your waist. He kissed the side of your neck, then raised his head and scanned the table. “You outdid yourself tonight, babe.”

Jensen sat down and took another look at the spread in front of him. All his favorites were there. “When did you find time to do all this? Didn’t you have two auditions today?”

You hadn’t expected the conversation to take this kind of turn. Lying to him wasn’t an option. You just weren’t going to do that, but you had been hoping for more time to lead up to what you were going to say. Your finger played with the edge of your plate. “I did, but I cancelled them.” The roles you had planned on auditioning for weren’t for pregnant women.

Jensen stopped spooning potatoes onto his plate. “What is it, baby? Are you feeling okay?” Normally, nothing would cause you to miss an audition. Your desire to be an actress had been similarly as strong as Jensen’s was to make art through his photography. 

You moved your finger from your plate, opting to fiddle with the napkin on your lap instead. You smiled weakly at him. “I’m fine, Jensen. It’s just those parts aren’t right for me.” 

“What changed your mind, sweetheart? You were so excited about those auditions.” He looked down at your almost empty plate; morning sickness had started to set in. “Are you sick, Y/N?”

You paused for a second. “No, Jensen. I’m not sick.” Why was it so hard to say this? So many thoughts were swirling through your head. He had plans for his career, and you’d had plans for a career as well. Finding out you were going to be a mother immediately changed that for you, and you were happy to change your way of thinking. Visions of baby booties were now dancing through your head, and you were mentally making plans of how you wanted your baby’s nursery to look. 

Jensen’s eyes reflected the various colors of green like a prism, and those beautiful eyes now filled with concern. It was time to tell him the truth. “Jensen, I…” You stopped, took a breath, and tried again. “I know we haven’t talked about this, and I wasn’t trying. Jensen, I wasn’t. I promise I wasn’t.” Tears started to roll down your cheeks. 

He got up, walked around the table, and kneeled beside you. “Y/N, honey, what’s wrong? What are you talking about? Talk to me.” He reached for your hand and took it into his. 

You loved Jensen’s hands. They were broad and strong. Whenever he touched you, held you, it never failed to make you feel cherished and safe. This time was no different. 

With his other hand, Jensen reached up and brushed your cheek with his knuckles. He wiped away your tears as he did, and the words bubbled up past the knot in your throat. “Jensen, I’m pregnant.”

It took a couple of seconds for recognition to register in his mind. “A baby?” His eyes fell to your stomach, and his hand started to move toward it before he stopped it in mid air. Jensen looked to you, a softness now filling his eyes. “Can I?”

You took his hand and led it to your belly. “Of course you can.” 

His hand was warm, and even though he couldn’t feel anything at this point, Jensen’s eyes grew a little wider. “We’re having a baby?”

You didn’t let go of his hand, and Jensen made no effort to move it. You focused on his hand beneath yours and drew strength from it. “I want this baby, Jensen. I know you have so many plans, and this wasn’t one of them.”

The strength you had been feeling just a few moments earlier ebbed and faded away. You felt a fresh wave of emotions wash through you, and the tears started to flow again. “I don’t want to ruin your life and mess up everything you wanted. I’m sorry.”

Jensen wiped away more of your tears, but they were coming almost faster than he could brush them from your face. “Sweetheart, it’s okay. I want this baby too. This is incredible, Y/N.” He took you into his arms. It felt safe; he made you feel wanted, you and the baby. Or, was that just all in your mind because it was what you wanted to believe? Jensen stroked your hair for several minutes; not saying anything, just repeating the soothing motion of his hand over your hair.

Your tears turned into full blown sobs; the pregnancy hormones were already reeking havoc with your body. “You don’t like kids. You never said you wanted any.”

You were starting to sniffle and trying so hard to stop crying. You’d done this to yourself. You took the napkin Jensen handed you and tried to daintily blow your nose.

“Y/N, sweetheart, why do you think I don’t like kids?” One of his hands was resting on your knee and the other was cupping your cheek.

“B...because they stress you out so much. You come home from work tense and miserable most days” You clutched the used napkin tightly in your hand. 

Your eyes were still filled with tears, blurring his handsome face, but you could hear him clearly. “I like kids, Y/N. It’s just those kids I work with are unhappy because they don’t want to be there. They don’t want to wear the fancy, itchy clothes, and they don’t want to sit still. They want to run and play and laugh. Just be kids. I don’t want to be there either. Photography is art to me, not taking glorified snapshots. I want to take pictures that will hang in galleries, maybe even a museum one day.” 

His eyes focused on yours, and his voice grew gentle. “It doesn’t mean I don’t like kids. It means I’m frustrated with where my career is right now.” He smiled at you, and his eyes took on that reflective dreamy quality that had shown you the depths of this man and made you fall in love with him. “I knew I wanted to have kids with you almost immediately. I’ve never known a kinder person.You are going to be the most amazing mother. Our baby is the luckiest kid in the world. You’ll teach our baby to be a good person just like you.”

 He touched his lips to yours, kissing you in a way that was clearly beyond chaste, but it didn’t seek anything more than what you gave him in that kiss. When he pulled away, the glimmer of a tear was shining in his eye too. 

“I’ve got an idea,” he said excitedly as he stood. He came back with his camera in his hand. “Will you let me take your picture?”

“Jensen, I’m a mess.” You smoothed your hands over your hair, but that wasn’t going to help your tear stained face. 

“I’ll focus on your stomach this time.” He leaned in to kiss you again. “I want to capture every part of how beautiful you are through this whole process.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Next December

It was the most festive and happiest of nights. One year ago, on this very day, you’d told Jensen you were pregnant. Now, you were holding your precious little daughter in your arms at her daddy’s first gallery opening. You watched him across the room, networking, making the contacts he would need to ensure he was never stuck in a job ever again that didn’t bring him happiness.

Jensen left the group he was talking with, walked over to you, and took Leigh from you. The way he smiled at her was like nothing you’d ever seen. “How’s daddy’s little angel?” He turned his attention to you, kissing your cheek. “Mommy looks gorgeous.”

You lowered your head. “Jensen.” He was making you blush like a schoolgirl, or maybe it was the pictures of you all over the room in various stages of your pregnancy. He had named the collection “The Blossoming of a Mother”. If you didn’t know you were the subject of those photographs, didn’t remember posing for him while he took them, or the way he’d made love to you after every single one of those photo sessions; you’d never believe they were pictures of you. You’d never known you could look like that. 

Jensen held Leigh in the bend of his arm, took your hand, and led you to one of the photographs. You were dressed only in a blush pink silk sheet that was billowing around you, one of your hands cradling your round stomach and the other on your breast. Jensen leaned in and whispered so only you would hear, “I’m keeping that one.”

You also lowered your voice to a whisper. “How do you feel about pictures of me being on other people’s walls, being in places where anyone can see them?” It wasn’t the first time you’d talked about it, but you wanted to hear him say it again. “It doesn’t bother me because I know they’re never going to see you the way I do, never hear those beautiful sounds you make when we’re together.”

You were blushing again. “Jensen, stop.”

He smiled at you with that sexy flirtiness he possessed glinting in his eyes. “I promise that’s not what you’ll be saying later tonight.”

You watched him turn and walk back across the room to a group of potential clients. He could certainly fill out a pair of dress pants. If you weren’t careful, Leigh would have a little brother or sister soon. A smile crossed your face as you observed him showing off his daughter to the gathered crowd of people, proving to you that she was an even bigger dream for him than his art. 

Everything: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeannafuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @dawnie1988 @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @sorenmarie87 @winchesterxfamilybusiness 

Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05​ @weepingwillowphoenix​

[phantasticworks]

Take a Picture (It'll Last Longer)

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

read on ao3

Words: 21.6k

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

Warnings: swearing, explicit smut, light angst

It was a weird situation.

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

Not in that way.

Well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pistachio,” Dan responds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks,” Dan says, holding the napkin in his hand like an idiot. When the guy smiles at him, Dan tries to copy it, but he knows it’s awkward. “I’m Dan,” he says dumbly, moving to hold his hand out for a handshake. He realizes a second too late that he still has his drink in his hand. His face floods with color, and he’s quick to set it down and try again.

Blue eyes crinkle on the edges of a smile, and the man reciprocates the handshake in a much less awkward fashion. “I’m Phil.”

Dan nods, tugging his hand away when it feels appropriate to do so. It hasn’t set in until then, but the true awkwardness of this situation, of having a two am coffee and snack with a stranger, really sets in. “So, um... caramel macchiato?” His voice is stilted, awkward, even to his own ears.

Phil quirks a brow and bites his lip as if to hide a smile. “Yeah, reckon it’s my favorite.”

“Good favorite to have,” Dan replies. He reaches for his drink and takes a large sip. It’s sweet, sweeter than he’d usually like at this time of day (or night, depending on how you looked at it) but it was still nice. His hands shake a bit as he goes to set it down, so he tucks his hands under his thighs to hide it. Glancing up at Phil, he frowns, surprised to find him already looking back.

Phil has an easy smile on his lips, and he leans back on the sofa, pulling his legs up to sit in a criss-cross fashion as he regards Dan. “I’m guessing you’re a student?” Phil asks.

Dan’s lips twist but he forces a nod. “Yeah,” he replies, shifting uncomfortably.

Despite Dan’s awkwardness, Phil appears intrigued, leaning in with a smile. “What are you studying?”

“Law.” The word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and his nose scrunches at the thought.

Phil smiles, his lips curling as he takes a sip of his drink. His eyes sparkle above the cup, as if they’re sharing some sort of secret. Dan kind of likes the way that feels. “What did you want to study?” Phil asks, as if that’s something you just ask someone you’ve only just met.

Dan can’t help but bristle. “I... what makes you think I don’t want to do law?” He crosses his arms, defiant.

The look Phil sends him implies that the question is a stupid one. “Your face kinda gave it away, mate.” He does that smile again, the one with his tongue between his teeth, and Dan nearly swoons.

“Okay, well, no, it’s not exactly my dream career.” Dan can’t believe he’s admitting this to a complete stranger. He hasn’t even admitted this to his parents yet. Not to mention the other, more personal thing he hasn’t admitted to them yet. He won’t be sharing that today, though. At least, he doesn’t plan on it.

Phil leans in again, hovering close like they’re sharing secrets. “What is your dream career?” he asks in a quiet voice.

Dan stares at him instead of responding. Something clicks in his head, and he recognizes this as some form of flirting. He can’t, or rather doesn’t want to, deal with that. So he doesn’t. Instead, he laughs. Loudly and awkwardly. “Don’t think we know each other well enough for me to share all my hopes and dreams, mate.”

There’s a flash of a grin but then Phil settles back, his mouth forming a vague smirk as he tucks into his scone. Watching him eat serves as a reminder that Dan has his own food, a reminder he’s grateful for as soon as Phil catches his gaze. Cheeks warm, Dan quickly reaches for his pistachio muffin, tearing it apart and eating it in little bits.

He hears a laugh from beside him, but at this point he pays no mind to it. His whole reason for leaving his shitty little flat at two in the morning was to get one of these delightful muffins, and despite the distraction, he was actually very hungry, and after the first bite he can’t help but snarf the rest of it up. He’s mid-chew, barely holding in a noise of pure joy at how fluffy the pastry is, when he hears a camera shutter.

Dan startles. His muffin very nearly faces an untimely death, but with the secret muffin-saving ninja powers he didn’t know he had, he manages to save it before it hits the floor. Choking down the bite in his mouth, Dan turns his head, staring past the rather impressive looking camera lens and glaring daggers into Phil’s eyes.

“Um... What the fuck?”

Phil at least has the decency to look sheepish. He lowers the camera, his gaze locked on what Dan assumes is the screen, which is probably displaying the likely incredibly unflattering photo of Dan.

“Sorry,” Phil apologizes, half-heartedly. “You just... I don’t know, sorry. I should’ve asked.”

Dan clears his throat, sitting forward to place his muffin down. He dusts the crumbs off his lap, his gaze flicking from Phil to the camera. “Well? Let me see it.”

“Oh.” Phil looks surprised. Dan hates that he thinks that’s endearing. “Well, it’s not very good, I wasn’t going for something perfect, and the lighting is off, so-“

“If I’m modeling without my knowledge or consent, I’m seeing the result,” Dan deadpans.

Phil actually looks proper embarrassed now. “I am sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Clearly. Hand it over.” He reaches for the camera, but doesn’t snatch it. He was raised better than that, obviously.

With another sheepish look, Phil gently sets the camera down in Dan’s awaiting palm. He handles the camera carefully, but with steady, sure hands. Belatedly, Dan realizes that the camera must have been in the bag he’d mistaken for a lunchbox earlier. The camera is heavier than he’d been expecting, but then again Dan’s never really had much reason to hold a camera before, especially not one of this caliber.

He has to click the center button to wake the screen back up, and when he does he squints to see the picture better. His breath catches. The picture isn’t fantastic, from a subjective point of view. Although maybe that’s just his bias, as he’s the subject of it and it’s not exactly a flattering pose. He’s got a pleased look on his face, his index finger between his lips, clearly stuffing food in his mouth. There are crinkles by his eyes and regardless of the fact that no one looks good shoving food down their throat, it’s actually... not a bad picture.

“I’m sorry, I know, it’s not like... great. The lighting isn’t perfect, and the angle is awkward, but you were just so... well, anyway. Sorry, again.” Phil’s rambling at this point, and Dan can’t be bothered to reply to any of it.

“It’s... it’s actually really good, Phil.” Dan’s eyes don’t leave the camera. Maybe that’s narcissistic, but he doesn’t actively hate the way he looks, not from Phil’s perspective. Glancing up at who is apparently a good photographer, Dan offers a cheeky grin. “You’re not half bad for a guy who takes creep shots of strangers in cafes in the middle of the night.”

Phil’s face falls, a pinkish tint crawling up his cheeks. “I-“

“I’m joking,” Dan assures him with an easy smile. He hands the camera back, a twisting feeling in his stomach when he realizes that this stranger has a piece of him he can’t get back. He doesn’t like that part of this, he realizes. Clearing his throat, he gestures at the camera. “What’re you gonna do with that photo?”

Phil gives him a small, knowing smile. This makes Dan’s gut twist in a different way. He’s not sure how to interpret this one. “I can delete it, if you’d like,” he says, shrugging. His gaze drops to the photo and his lips twist. A silent conjunction lies stagnant in the air between them.

“Okay... is that what you’re going to do with it?” Dan asks, because he can’t not ask. He hates to tell this man, who is clearly a good photographer, that he can’t keep the picture, but the part of him that cringes at the idea of someone else seeing it refuses to be silent.

“Well, I mean obviously I will if you want me to, but...” he trails off, his gaze flicking between Dan and the photo on the camera as if he can’t reconcile the two versions of him. Or maybe it’s something else. “I’m actually looking for a model.”

Dan can’t help it. He laughs.

It’s not even anywhere in the realm of an attractive laugh, as he fully snorts, and that sound in itself just makes him laugh harder. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to have to keep looking. I’m not a model.” He shakes his head at the very notion.

Phil quirks an eyebrow and looks pointedly at his camera, as if that proves literally anything.

“Oh come on!” Dan groans. “That? Seriously? I look like, like a troll! Or a- a hobbit!”

The exasperated look on Phil’s face says that he isn’t buying it. “No, you really don’t. But even if you did, given the right lighting, angle, and some time, I think you’d be surprised at how not-hobbit-like I could make you appear.”

There’s something hopeful behind Phil’s eyes, and Dan watches as his fingers skate almost nervously over the buttons on the camera. Dan’s almost inclined to agree just on the off-chance he might get a shot at seeing what else those fingers do. He immediately berates himself for the idea; he barely knows this guy, but from all indications he’s lovely and deserves more than Dan’s gutter thoughts.

“I don’t know the first thing about modeling,” he says instead of going anywhere near the mental path his brain is suggesting.

“You don’t have to. As long as you’re good at keeping still and following directions, all you need is a good photographer,” Phil insists. He’s got a cheeky look on his face. “And being pretty doesn’t hurt.”

Dan stares that flirty remark in the face and says, “Let me repeat myself, keep looking.”

Phil’s face crumples into something unsatisfied before eventually shifting into something resigned. “If you actually don’t know that you’re attractive, then you’re very daft.”

The remark, as blunt as it was, sends a rush of something warm through his chest and up his neck. Ducking his head to hide his reaction, he mumbles, “I barely know you.”

“I promise I’m not a murderer.”

Dan’s head immediately snaps back up and he squints at the man beside him. “Funny, that sounds exactly like what a murderer would say.”

Phil grins. “Would a murderer offer to do a background check to prove it?” Those blue eyes are sparkling with mischief, and Dan is about two seconds away from agreeing to something both dangerous and stupid.

Reaching for his forgotten drink to distract himself, Dan hums. “Dunno. Don’t reckon I’ve ever met a murderer.”

“Yet,” Phil says, his voice filled with unabashed glee.

Dan levels him with a thoughtful stare. “Yet,” he agrees, slowly.

They sit in silence for a few minutes, finishing their pastries and drinks as Phil’s offer hangs above their heads. On the one hand, Dan really has nothing to lose. He’s bored of his life and his so-called friends who don’t seem to like spending time with him anyways, so it’s not like he’s losing out on precious social time if he agrees to it. On the other, he seriously doesn’t actually know Phil. He knows he’s a photographer who likes caramel macchiatos and that’s basically it. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know the bloke’s last name.

“What’s your name?” Dan asks, breaking the silence so suddenly that Phil actually startles in his seat. “Sorry,” Dan offers a sheepish grin. “I’m just curious. What’s your full name?”

Phil smiles. “Philip Michael Lester.”

Dan nods. He sips. Then, “I reckon that sounds like the name of someone who isn’t a murderer.”

When he glances over, Phil is hiding a grin behind his hand. “You reckon so?”

“Yeah,” Dan shrugs. He thinks for a moment. “What kind of... like, modeling, do you want me to do? Like, I don’t know if I’m down to be naked for photos.”

Phil’s got an adorable flush crawling up his neck, likely at the blunt way Dan had phrased it, but he somehow still manages to meet Dan’s stare with something serious. “Just for photos?”

Now it’s Dan’s turn to flush. “Shut up. Is this how you’re going to kill me? Lure me in with jokes and flirting and then cut off my willy when I’ve let my guard down?”

If Dan thought Phil’s face was red before, it’s literally nothing compared to the beautiful flush that paints his cheeks now. “No!” He hisses, looking over to the counter with panic in his eyes. Considering they’re the only customers and the cashier has retired to sitting on the counter playing with their phone, Dan thinks it probably safe to say that no one heard.

“Hey, I’m just asking! You can never be too careful. Lot of creeps out there,” Dan grins.

Phil shakes his head, hiding his horror behind his cup. “I’m starting to think you might be the murderer.”

Dan smiles, but it’s a bitter thing. “The only thing I kill is anyone’s desire to be around me for any length of time ever.”

It’s funny how quickly Phil’s expression changes. He lowers his cup, his gaze soft as it lands on Dan’s. For however long those moments are, they share some silent understanding. Even if Dan doesn’t know him, he recognizes that Phil gets it; maybe not on some deep psychological level, but Dan sees in the lack of pity or discomfort that Phil just... knows.

“If you promise not to kill me and I promise not to kill you, do you think you could maybe consider it?” Phil asks.

Dan’s grateful for the subject change, even though it forces him to focus on the topic at hand. He considers it for a moment, but really he already knew what his answer would be the moment Phil said he was attractive. If that makes him shallow, then so be it.

“I’ll do it.”

~~~

After exchanging numbers and schedules that night, Dan agreed to meet Phil at his flat two weeks later for his first shoot. It made him vaguely uncomfortable to think of it like that but in the end that’s pretty much what it was, at least if Phil had anything to say about it. The man in question had yet to give Dan any explanation for why he was taking the photos to begin with, but Dan just assumed it was for a project. He did learn that Phil was finishing up his second degree, something Dan was immensely jealous of, considering he felt like dropping out half the time.

The days before they’re meant to meet seem to fly by, and when Dan shows up at the address he’d been given on Friday night, he’s practically vibrating with nerves. Despite the fact that they’d spent much of that time apart texting and getting to know one another, he still felt a little out of his depth stood at Phil’s door, especially knowing what awaited him on the other side.

Still, it’s not like he could easily get out of it now. So instead he texts Phil to let him know he’s there, waiting awkwardly on the steps in front of the building. Phil replies to let him know that he’d be down in a moment, so Dan stands, shifting from foot to foot, as he waits.

He’d been completely clueless as to how he needed to dress for this, and Phil had been no help at all. He’d instructed Dan to just wear something comfortable, that he was less concerned about costuming than he was the picture itself. Dan didn’t know much about photography, so he decided to listen. He’d chosen a pair of black jeans, not ripped for once, and a plain black jumper. His hair was a controlled mess, and after an hour of forcing straighteners over it, he managed to get it into something presentable.

The door in front of him swings open while he’s contemplating his choice of shoes, and he nearly falls over in surprise. He catches himself before he can, but the embarrassment of almost falling nearly has him turning around to leave until he catches sight of Phil’s pleased grin. “You made it!” He cheers, ushering Dan inside.

Dan quirks a brow at him. “Did you think I just texted you from my flat just to get a laugh when you realized I wasn’t here?”

Phil’s grin doesn’t falter in the slightest. “Hey, I don’t know what you’re like, maybe you never planned on showing up at all and it’s all just a big prank.”

If Phil wasn’t already leading the way upstairs, he’d see the incredulous look on Dan’s face. “That’s ridiculous. I’m right here.”

He watches Phil’s shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “I don’t know that. Maybe you’re a figment of my imagination. Maybe you’re a figment of your own imagination. Who knows?” They stop at a door just off the staircase on the second floor, much to Dan’s relief. He wasn’t much for exercise and he wasn’t aware that today he’d be doing cardio, or he’d have worn a thinner shirt. “Maybe existence in itself is just a social construct,” Phil says conspiratorially, opening the door to his flat and sending Dan a mischievous grin.

“Stop, you’re gonna send me into an existential crisis,” Dan complains.

Phil is good-natured enough to laugh, which is refreshing compared to the usual groans and bitchiness Dan would hear from his friends for a similar comment. It’s nice.

Phil leads the way into his flat, and Dan distracts himself from his nerves by looking around, taking in all of the little knick knacks and decor. It’s not messy, per se, but it differs from Dan’s own flat in the way that it’s comfortably lived in. There’s not a whole lot of space, but somehow it doesn’t feel crowded or small. Dan wonders if that has anything to do with the bright colors, which, he notes, don’t seem to follow any sort of pattern or color scheme.

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess, I rarely have company.” Phil sounds apologetic as he moves further into the flat, bypassing the lounge and leading Dan into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink?”

Dan nods, moving to settle on one of the barstools by the counter. “As long as it’s not of the alcoholic variety.”

Phil smiles as he moves around the kitchen, reaching into a cupboard for two glasses. Dan watches as the hem of his shirt rides up, showing just a little bit of skin before it settles back down. “You don’t drink?”

Shrugging, Dan leans forward on the counter, his arms folded. “Not with people I barely know,” he replies dryly.

There’s a flicker of something like hurt on Phil’s face, but it’s not there for long. “Ribena okay?”

“Sure.”

It’s a little bit awkward as Phil prepares their drinks in silence, which Dan attributes to the fact that they don’t really know each other that well. It’s hard to start a conversation with a stranger, especially when you’re in said stranger’s house. All things considered, though, Dan could be a lot more worried about that. Phil just seems to have this calming sort of energy to him, and it’s hard for Dan to reject that, even with his brain as messed up as it is.

“Here you go,” Phil says with a smile as he hands Dan a drink.

“Thanks,” Dan replies with a smile. He takes a sip, averting his eyes from Phil’s curious gaze. It’s a bit less watered down than he prefers, but he doesn’t actually mind it all that much. The sweetness is less of a whisper and more of a shout, and he smiles to himself when he thinks about Phil’s obvious sweet tooth.

“Alright?” Phil asks, sounding a little nervous.

Dan nods. “It’s good.” Clearing his throat, he gestures vaguely to Phil. “So, Mr. Photographer. What kind of photoshoot have you got in mind for me?”

At the mention of the reason for Dan’s presence, Phil grins. “Well, I’m glad you asked. Follow me.”

Dan spares a confused glance at his drink but does as instructed, standing up to follow after him. Now that he’s being led into the lounge he’s got a chance to look around a little more and is surprised to see a bookshelf filled with familiar things, mostly video games and movies. There’s a couple odd knick knacks here and there that he recognizes from a game or anime. The thought that they actually have things in common startles Dan, but it isn’t unwelcome.

“So, for the portrait series I’m doing, I’m focusing more on a lifestyle, candid kind of photography. I’m still working on the basic theme but I’ve got some ideas for a couple of shots to get started.” Phil is explaining this as he’s moving around, grabbing his camera off the desk and moving to the glass door which Dan has just realized opens onto a balcony. Dan’s nodding along, pretending he gets it, while still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this man looked at him and felt he was worth capturing. “If you have any ideas or questions or anything, feel free to let me know. I’m usually pretty open-minded about things like that,” Phil says with a smile.

Dan nods again. “Alright. Well, uh... where do you want me?”

Phil grins, and Dan flushes when he realizes what it sounds like. Luckily, Phil doesn’t tease him for it. “I thought we’d start with the balcony. I’ve got some ideas that I wanna go ahead and do while the lighting is nice.”

With another nod, Dan moves towards the door. Then he comes to a halt, turning back around to face him. “Is what I’m wearing alright? I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

There’s a twitch of a smile on Phil’s lips at that. “What you’re wearing is perfect. You can take your shoes off though, if you want. Might be here a while.” There’s no hint of innuendo in his voice, but Dan can’t help but think about it anyway.

He toes his shoes off, glad for the brief distraction to calm himself down. After tucking his shoes out of the way near the door, he turns around, tugging on his sleeves as he waits for instruction. Phil isn’t looking at him right now, his focus on the balcony door. He pushes it open, steps back, and then tugs it in just a little bit. After staring at it for a moment he closes it, then nods to himself. If Dan wasn’t so confused, he’d probably laugh at him.

A few minutes of this go by and then Phil’s turning back around with a bright smile. “Alright, so for this to look candid and what not, I need you to like walk out onto the balcony as naturally as you can. We’ve got time to do it more than once, so it’s fine if the first couple of times feel awkward.”

“Okay,” Dan shrugs. He’s struggling to pretend he’s not nervous at this point but really, how can he not be? He doesn’t even know Phil but he wants this to work for him.

Dan moves towards the door, hyper aware of every movement of his feet as they drag across the floor. He doesn’t hear any other instruction, so he continues, pushing open the glass door and stepping onto the balcony. He also doesn’t hear the camera shutter, so with an embarrassed feeling in his chest, he turns to look at Phil.

Click.

“Um.” Dan blinks. “I thought...”

“Just checking that the camera is good to go,” Phil says, his lips twitching like he wants to smile. Dan can tell he’s lying, but doesn’t know how he’d feel about being called out for it.

“So... want me to go again?” Dan asks dumbly.

Phil nods, gesturing for him to come closer. “Here, just...” as soon as Dan is closer, he reaches out for him. Dan’s heart thumps out of beat, and Phil hesitates, smiling gently. “Can I?” He asks, gesturing to Dan’s shirt.

Dan can only nod, and Phil takes that as permission. He steps just a bit closer, and a wonderful scent of something fruity and sweet floods Dan’s senses. He’s trying to decide if it’s kiwi or something else when Phil’s gaze meets his, making Dan flush and drop his eyes. Phil’s camera is resting against his chest, the strap around his neck, and Dan tries to focus on that as Phil takes Dan’s sleeve and rolls it up almost to his elbow. He takes the other and copies the look, glancing over the rest of Dan before clearing his throat and stepping back.

“Am I ready for the camera?” Dan jokes, trying to ignore the racing of his heart and the way he can still smell faint traces of Phil’s cologne in the air between their bodies.

Phil’s suddenly heavy gaze drags from Dan’s hair down to his jeans, and he tilts his head, considering. “Depends. How comfortable would you be without your jeans?”

~~~

Dan cannot believe this. He simply cannot believe he agreed to this. Even an hour and a half later, it feels a bit like some weird fever dream. But no, there he is, in Phil’s flat, clad in nothing but a black jumper and black Calvins, modeling. If it could even be called that, because at this point Phil is mostly just engaging him in conversation, getting Dan distracted, and then snapping a photo. He very rarely asks for a specific pose, and Dan’s starting to wonder if he’s actually getting any good shots out of this or not.

Still, he won’t complain because so far he’s learned a lot about Phil. He’s 28, which surprised Dan at first, until he explained that he’d finished school with a degree in video post-production only to realize a couple years later that he was interested in photography. He’s not a full time student, but he’s enrolled in the photography course and loving it, apparently. Dan feels all sorts of out of place when Phil talks about school with such passion. It’s something he wishes he had, something he’d wanted for himself for years and never found.

Dan actually shares things about himself, as well. He offers up his own situation with school, admitting that he’d dropped out of uni a few years ago, only to get stuck with no job and no future until his parents made him agree to go back. He’s in his second year of law this time, which as a 24 year old, feels very embarrassing. Phil is all kind words and encouragement about this; Dan tries not to feel surprised that Phil is not only attractive and clever but also deeply empathetic.

“That’s really brave, you know,” Phil tells him. He’s sat on the only chair on the balcony, looking up at Dan with soft eyes. Dan shrugs, glancing away from him. He can’t handle the caring behind those eyes, he can’t let himself feel something more for this stranger other than vague appreciation and friendship. There’s the sound of the shutter clicking, and he levels Phil with an unimpressed stare. Phil grins and snaps another photo.

“It doesn’t feel brave,” Dan tells him, continuing their verbal conversation as he turns away, looking out on the city around them rather than stand facing Phil. He realizes belatedly that the height of the balcony and the way he’s leaning against it probably just look like he’s presenting his ass, but he’s already lost whatever self-consciousness he had about being nearly naked in front of someone he hardly knows.

“How does it feel, then?” Phil asks. Dan likes that. He likes that he doesn’t argue with Dan’s feelings, he asks him to explain them. Dan likes that a lot.

“Well, it feels like... I dunno. Like a waste of time.” He glances over when he hears the chair squeak to find Phil standing beside him. He’s got this open, welcoming expression on his face. Dan suddenly feels like he could tell him anything and Phil would just... know. “I feel like I’m wasting my time, or potential, or whatever.”

Phil nods. “I get that. I started out with English Language and Linguistics at uni. I didn’t hate it, but it wasn’t something I was like, super passionate about. Not enough to stick with it, and like, what the hell do you do with that kind of degree, you know?”

Dan shrugs. He doesn’t know, honestly, but it feels good to talk to someone who gets it, in some way. “Right.” It’s quiet for a moment, both of them lost in their thoughts as they look out into the street below. They’re not very high up, but there’s not a whole lot of tall buildings around, so it feels like they are. Dan hears the camera shutter but this time he doesn’t look. Instead he allows himself a small smile, something warm fluttering in his chest. Another click, and then he hears Phil sigh.

“These are really good,” Phil says softly. “I mean... not like I’m bragging, just...” He meets Dan’s gaze with a sheepish smile. “You look really good.”

Dan’s not sure he can handle that. He ducks his head, avoiding even looking in Phil’s direction until he feels less embarrassed and charmed and pleased. “I’m sure they’re alright,” he says noncommittally.

Phil laughs at that. “I’m not sure if you’re insulting me or yourself, but either way, I’m not sure I appreciate it.”

He can’t help it, Dan snorts at hearing this. “Sorry. Self-deprecation and all.”

There’s a very serious expression on Phil’s face when he looks at Dan then. It nearly chills Dan to his bones, but he finds he can’t look away. “I wish you could see what I see when I look at you.” He sounds perfectly serious.

Dan swallows. He wonders if he’s imagining the lack of space between them. “What do you see when you look at me?”

Phil studies him for a moment. He moves slowly, pulling the camera strap over his head and setting the camera carefully in the chair. Dan’s definitely not imagining it when Phil steps closer, making Dan turn as Phil crowds him back against the balcony. “All sorts of things,” Phil murmurs. Speaking any louder in the space between them would sound like yelling. “I see someone who’s sad.” Dan makes a soft noise of protest, but Phil shushes him gently. “But someone who’s doing what they can not to feel that way.”

They’re stood less than a foot apart now, and Dan studies the swirl of colors in Phil’s eyes. His breath is caught in his throat. He doesn’t know how Phil just knows these things, but somehow he’s managed to understand more about Dan than he’s understood about himself in years. More than that, Phil sees these things about Dan and doesn’t shy away from them. He looks at him like it’s okay to feel that way, like he maybe understands what it’s like. Dan loves it.

“What else?” He whispers, as if they’re sharing secrets.

Phil smiles. “I see those beautiful brown eyes.”

Dan blushes. “Shut up.”

“No,” Phil grins. He reaches forward, and Dan expects a soft touch and hopes for maybe more than that. He’s surprised when instead Phil pokes his side.

“Hey!” Dan yelps, squirming from his hand. “That’s rude.”

Phil giggles. “Sorry. I wanted to see that cute little pout.”

Dan’s face is likely blood red by now, but he tries to force his lips out of the pout he feels them in. “Alright, if you don’t stop flirting you might actually have to do something about it, you know.” He crosses his arms, quirking an eyebrow at Phil in challenge.

The challenge is apparently accepted, as Phil grins back, crossing his own arms. He’s an inch or two shorter than Dan, but with that stance, he appears taller. “Like what?”

And well, Dan wasn’t really expecting Phil to play along. He can only stare at him, blinking in confusion. “Um... well...”

It seems Phil expected this because he starts laughing as if it was a joke. Dan has no choice but to join in, pretending right along with him. “C’mon, you must be getting cold out here.” Phil turns to walk inside, gesturing for Dan to follow. Dan hadn’t really thought about it until now, but his legs are rather chilly.

After closing the door and walking into the lounge, he finds Phil stood there holding his jeans out to him. Dan tries not to let it bother him that this evening isn’t going in the direction he originally thought that it might go in. He shouldn’t be surprised about that. Phil is seemingly a very nice person, one who probably doesn’t hook up with emotionally unstable uni students he met at two am in a cafe. So really, Dan just needs to calm down with his expectations there.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, taking the jeans. He figures propriety is probably already out the window, so he goes ahead and pulls them on, trying not to think about the fact that Phil is watching him. “So, um...” He wants to ask if he’ll see Phil again, but he’s not sure how to.

Phil seems to understand anyway. He smiles and moves to the desk in the corner. Above it is a wall calendar, filled with lots of colorful sticky notes and scribbled handwriting. Even squinting, Dan can’t really make any of it out. Somehow, that, too, is endearing. Phil mumbles to himself as he scans the calendar, his finger moving along the dates as if he’s looking for something.

“I’m free next Saturday if you’re willing to do this again,” he says, turning around to glance at Dan.

A little startled by the suddenness of the request, it takes Dan a moment to nod. “Alright, uh, sure. What time?”

“Hm,” Phil hums to himself, considering it. He bends over to look through a notebook on the desk, and Dan is definitely not looking at his ass. Okay, maybe he takes a peek. Or two. Or maybe he just stares. “I have a list of ideas, give me a second,” he says, offering Dan a smile over his shoulder.

Dan nods, clearing his throat and pretending he’s examining the furniture. “I meant to tell you earlier, but I really like your flat. It’s cozy,” he says. His voice sounds awkward, even to himself. He’s genuine in his compliment, though. The decor is a lot brighter than he’d go for, and there doesn’t seem to be any cohesive theme, but he appreciates the bursts of personality he sees in every item.

“Thanks,” Phil says, turning to face him with a grin. “It’s taken me a while to accumulate all this junk, but it’s mostly sentimental.”

Dan cracks a smile at that. “That’s sweet. I’m not very sentimental myself, actually.”

Phil’s smile cracks a little at that. He recovers well, and manages to laugh. “My mum says I’m a hoarder, but I actually think I got it from her.”

“Maybe don’t tell her that.”

“Yeah, maybe not.” Phil grins genuinely. “So, I’ve got some… er… well, some other shots I want to get.” He bites his lips as if he’s embarrassed.

Dan can’t help it. His mind takes a sharp turn for the gutter. “What kind of shots?”

Phil raises a hand and scratches the back of his neck. Dan stares at the way the tendons in his arms flex. It’s unacceptably attractive. “Well… Please don’t think I’m creepy for this, I swear I was going to get someone else to do it, but if you’re willing… My series would look more cohesive with the same model in every shot.”

Dan rolls his eyes now. The beating around the bush thing isn’t cute anymore. “Spit it out, bub. What do you want me to do? Pose nude?”

“No!” Something panicked arises in Phil’s eyes, but it’s replaced by something like consideration, clouded with something akin to guilt. “Er… Well, not entirely.” He bites his lip at this, staring at Dan like he’s waiting for him to run.

Crossing his arms, Dan quirks a brow, waiting. “So?”

“Well, it’s like… The theme I’m trying to work with is intimacy, but like from different angles. We, uh… For the assignment we were told to pick a sort of abstract or misunderstood concept, and research what we can to come up with a photo series that shows the deeper understanding of it. And uh, I went with intimacy.” His face is pink, and his gaze darts around the room in a nervous way Dan hasn’t witnessed yet.

Dan considers what this means for himself for a moment. He knows what he considers intimacy to be, which is basically sex and the things that go with being intimate before and after that. He can’t pretend he isn’t interested in what Phil wants to do with this concept, and honestly, after today, he feels comfortable enough that maybe he wouldn’t mind a little nude shoot. That might change due to his ever changing self-consciousness but he’s not totally opposed to it right now.

Phil must misunderstand his silence to mean he’s considering saying no. That thought’s laughable to Dan, at this point. “If you’re not comfortable, or if it’s something else, that’s totally fine! I mean, if you just don’t want to waste your time, I can pay you? But if you’re uncomfortable then-”

“I’ll do it.”

Phil stops talking. He blinks. Then, “What?”

Dan shrugs, an almost giddy feeling seeping into his chest. He tucks his hands into his pockets. “I said I’ll do it. I mean I reckon if you were gonna murder me, you would’ve done it by now. And I’m not too fussed about posing nude, but…” He’s not sure if what he’s about to say is obvious or not, but… “I’m… homosexually inclined, if you will.”

There’s a heavy silence. Phil blinks at him, twice. Then, he promptly bursts into giggles. Dan’s not impressed by that.

“Sorry, I’m not- homosexually inclined? Is that what we’re calling it these days? God, I’m getting old.” Phil laughs again, clutching his belly and tossing his head back with the force of it.

Dan’s fight-or-flight response is hovering on the edge of a knife, waiting to see if he’s going to have to protect himself from this situation somehow. He’s never actually had anyone start laughing in his face when he told them he was gay, but he reckons maybe he did say it in an odd way. Still, it was almost unsettling to see the soft look on Phil’s face once his giggles have subsided.

“I am too, by the way. Homosexually inclined,” Phil repeats the phrasing and smirks. Dan immediately relaxes. “That’s the only way I’ll ever come out to anyone ever again, so thank you for that.”

Dan rolls his eyes but pantomimes tipping a hat. “Happy to be of service.” Now that their truths are out in the open, he’s more relaxed, but also just that much more uneasy. Before, Phil was just this fit guy taking photos of him that Dan could quietly pine after and assume about. Now… now he knows for sure. And that scares the hell out of him. “So, Saturday?” Dan asks, clearing his throat to clear some of the tension in the room.

Phil nods, a familiar excited glint reappearing in his eyes. “Yeah, say… five-ish? The lighting is better when the sun’s going down.”

“Sure.” Dan takes this as his invitation to leave and heads back to the front door. Phil follows after him and stands by while Dan tugs his shoes back on. “Anything particular you’d like me to wear?” He doesn’t mean to flirt, but he can’t help but put on a certain tone of voice. He’s only human.

If Phil’s bothered by the obvious flirtation, he has a funny way of showing it. Smirking, he crosses his arms and leans against the wall beside him, his eyes raking over Dan’s body in a way that nearly makes him shiver. “If you’ve got a light colored sweater or something, that would work.” He tilts his head, considering for a moment. “And the Calvins are a nice touch, as well.”

Dan can’t help but smirk back, as if he knows what they’re doing here. He doesn’t, not really. “Why, reckon I’m gonna be back down to my pants for you?”

Phil stares him straight in the eyes as he nods. “Yeah, I reckon so.”

This does make Dan shiver. He can’t help it. His skin is suddenly feeling a little tacky, his clothes clinging a little too closely to his skin. “Right,” he mumbles, clearing his throat after. “See you Saturday?”

The grin on Phil’s face takes any of the previous heat away, but it leaves Dan warm in an entirely different way. “Saturday. I’ll see you then, Dan. Be safe.”

Dan offers a little wave as he steps out the door. He forces himself to take a deep breath before getting any further, processing what he’d just agreed to. Spending an evening with a very attractive, also gay man, taking perhaps racy photos.

God, Dan was so fucked.

~~~

Dan has counted down the days until Saturday, unashamedly. There’s no one but himself to shame him for his weird crush, and for now, he’s not going to beat himself up about it. That’s probably most definitely subject to change, he realizes once he’s standing at Phil’s door on Saturday evening, wearing black ripped jeans and a light tannish Yeezy sweater he’d spent way too much money on. He’s a little early, since they’d agreed on five, but Dan doesn’t actually think Phil will be all that bothered about it, honestly. At least, he sincerely hopes he isn’t.

Dan: im outside let me in

Phil: you should’ve sent the meme

Dan: ?

Dan hears the door click the same time his phone buzzes in his hand. He opens the door with one hand while his other clicks on the meme. He snorts when he sees it, having forgotten all about the Eric Andre meme, but this was certainly an appropriate moment to use it. Since he’s literally in the same building as Phil, Dan doesn’t bother typing out a response, pocketing his phone and making his way up to Phil’s flat.

Phil’s quick to open the door after Dan’s knocked, and Dan smiles automatically upon seeing his face. He’s not wearing glasses this time, and his hair is in an almost perfect quiff. Dan very much wants to touch it, but he knows that’s definitely not appropriate. Phil looks incredibly cozy right now, wearing a grey sweater and black skinny jeans.

“Hi,” Phil says, his voice sweet.

Dan can’t help the stupid grin on his face, stretching at his cheeks and probably caving his dimple. “Hi, yourself.”

He doesn’t have a chance to ask to come inside, as Phil’s suddenly shifting closer, his hand coming up to Dan’s face. Dan sucks in a sharp breath, heart beating out of rhythm. Whatever he’s expecting to happen isn’t Phil’s intention, apparently, as Dan’s surprised when he feels Phil’s finger sink into his dimple. “Hello to this part of you, specifically.”

It takes him a moment to process the disappointment he feels that Phil didn’t do something else, but then he’s just thrilled that Phil is touching his face so casually. Then, he hears what he said. Laughing, Dan swats his hand away. “Oh, fuck off.”

Phil grins at him. “What? It’s cute. Hello, there… Derek!”

Dan blinks. “Derek?”

Phil’s finger comes back up to gently dip into the concave space on Dan’s face. “Derek the dimple.”

“You’re really odd,” Dan muses. Phil’s face twists at this, and Dan smiles before stepping through the door beside him. “It’s cute, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t wait for a reaction, walking over to where Phil keeps his shoes and toeing his trainers off. He tugs his coat off as well, looking around for somewhere to put it that doesn’t clutter some of Phil’s space.

“I’ll get it,” Phil says, coming to the rescue. He grabs the coat from Dan and leads the way into the lounge, the sound of the front door shutting behind them echoing into the room. “Have you eaten?” Phil asks, his back turned to Dan as he goes to hang Dan’s coat genty over a chair.

“No, I figured I’d eat later when I leave.” Dan goes to sit on the sofa, glancing around the room casually to see if anything’s changed since he was here last week.

Phil nods, but chews his bottom lip hesitantly. “Do you like pizza?”

Dan quirks a brow at this and tries not to smirk. “Are you trying to buy me dinner, Phil Lester?”

To his credit, Phil doesn’t seem very embarrassed by this. His eyes dart away but ultimately come back to Dan’s face, searching. “I guess so. If you’ll let me.”

Clearing his throat to hide the way he’s actually very pleased by this, Dan nods, following it with a noncommittal shrug. “Well, if you insist.”

Phil laughs, moving to his desk and grabbing his laptop. He returns to the sofa, dropping beside Dan and opening his laptop. “Domino’s okay?”

Dan nods and shifts on the sofa, tucking his feet up and leaning over to watch Phil order their food. “Have you tried the Sizzler?”

He realizes how close they are now when Phil turns his head and their eyes meet, mere inches apart. Phil has a lovely, surprised smile on his face. “The Sizzler is literally my favorite.”

This draws a pleased smile on Dan’s lips. “Yeah? You’ve got good taste, then.”

Phil nods. “It’s got just enough toppings to mask the flavor of the cheese, it’s great.”

Dan blinks. “Sorry, why would you actually want to mask the cheese? The cheese is the best part!”

Phil’s nose crinkles adorably as he turns back to the screen, clicking around on the order page. “I’m lactose intolerant, cheese just doesn’t really suit me.”

“Huh,” Dan hums. “I guess it’s good that mozzarella cheese basically just tastes of air, then.”

A dainty white hand comes up to rest over Phil’s chest as he mock-swoons. “You understand me,” he sighs.

Dan grins. He’s got the inexplicable urge to rest his head on Phil’s shoulder, but he refrains. Phil finishes up their order and closes his laptop, setting it on the coffee table in front of them before leaning back. His head rolls to the side and he blinks up at Dan adorably. Dan takes this moment to reach forward and poke Phil’s cheek, much like he did earlier to Dan’s dimple.

“So, pizza then photoshoot?” Dan inquires, the soft silence overwhelming him.

Phil nods. Then shrugs, which is a very mixed-signal sort of gesture, Dan thinks. “Well, probably pizza and photoshoot, really.”

“What?”

Without answering, Phil stands, going over to his desk and grabbing a notebook. He glances around until he finds a pen, then rejoins Dan on the sofa. “Right, so, the photo series has four parts to it, representing the four types of intimacy. So I figured today we could work on the first part.”

Dan nods, as if he completely understands this. He doesn’t. “Alright. So what’s the first part?”

Phil flips some pages in the notebook until he reaches one with “Experiential” at the top. Dan glances at this word, then back to Phil, then back to the page. Phil must notice his confusion, as he laughs under his breath before handing the notebook over. “I tried to write a short explanation, but basically it’s like intimacy in doing mundane activities. Like… I don’t know, playing video games together, or doing an art project, or something.”

“Right…” Dan nods slowly. “So, are we going to do an art project together?” He’s half-kidding. Half, because he’s not very artistic but he actually likes the idea of doing something creative and fun with Phil, who seems to be the human embodiment of those ideas.

“No, although that probably would’ve been a good idea,” Phil says, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. “I actually thought we could play some video games or play a board game or something?”

Dan nods. “Sure, I’m always down to play video games. I should warn you though, I didn’t have any friends until uni, so I’ve had lots of time to get really good at pretty much every video game.”

There’s something fleetingly sad in Phil’s gaze, but he recovers with a laugh that warms Dan’s heart and has him smiling. “We’ll see about that.”

~~~

“Fucking fuck fuck!” Dan screams, his thumb aching from how tightly he’s holding the button to steer. “Get out of my ass!” he screeches at Phil.

Phil cackles from beside him, his kart closing in on Dan’s. “Stop shouting that! I have neighbors, you idiot!”

Dan makes a frustrated grunting noise when Phil somehow manages to pass him and cross the finish line first, a string of curses leaving his mouth as Phil squeals with joy beside him. Ever the petulant child, Dan throws the switch joy-con towards Phil, who yelps. Dan pitches to the side, letting out a frustrated noise against the sofa cushion. “You’re the worst,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the fabric.

“What was that? I can’t hear you over the sound of me winning,” Phil taunts smugly.

Sitting up with a huff, Dan sends Phil a glare, only to startle when the camera flashes. He wants to be annoyed, but he can’t, not when he agreed to this impromptu shoot. And Phil’s been doing this for the past two hours since they finished their pizza and started playing Mario Kart, so if Dan was going to have a problem with it, he probably should have said so before now. He doesn’t actually, really. It’s always a little surprising, and it usually catches him off-guard since he’s rarely expecting it when it happens, but seeing Phil smile down at the camera every time he takes a photo makes it worth it.

“Rematch?” Phil asks, prodding Dan’s thigh with his joy-con, setting the camera down on the coffee table where it’s been residing for the majority of the evening. There’d been a couple times when Phil had gone to the kitchen under the pretense of getting something, only to surprise Dan by taking photos of him from behind the sofa. Dan doubts that those are any good, considering there’s probably nothing in shot but his unruly hair and the tv, but this is Phil’s project, so who is he to judge?

Dan rolls over so he’s on his back and drops his legs onto Phil’s lap, smiling when Phil begins rubbing his calves over his jeans. Whatever concept of personal space that existed hours ago is completely gone now, as both of them have taken to casual touches at almost any opportunity. Dan’s drowning in the feeling of this casual, friendly intimacy, and he idly wonders if that might be one of the themes for what Phil’s working on. “Depends, what time is it?”

Phil leans over to wake his phone up. “It’s a few minutes till eight,” he replies. He’s got an odd look on his face as he looks away from Dan before speaking again. “Why, got a hot date?”

This is one of those incredibly laughable things that Phil has said, and Dan treats it accordingly, dropping his head back to let out a cackle. “Bub, tonight you were the hot date.” He’s pleased by the surprised smile on Phil’s face. Dan’s cheeky for a moment and lifts his leg up to rub his foot against Phil’s thigh. “But no, I’ve just got revising to do. Exams coming up soon and the like.”

Phil doesn’t look particularly pleased by this, but nods in understanding. “Okay. Do you need to go home now?” His voice sounds just on the edge of disappointed, and Dan almost hates the way that makes him feel like he’s flying.

“I mean… I probably should. Why? Got other plans for me?” He smirks as he says it, obviously flirting.

Phil’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes this time. He shrugs, looking down at where his hands rest on Dan’s legs. “No, not really. I just like having you around.”

The naked honesty startles Dan into silence. He knows very few people who can tolerate him, let alone who actually enjoy his company, so this coming from Phil… Well, it’s a lot for Dan’s emotionally damaged brain to take in. After taking a moment to collect himself, he knocks his knee against Phil’s chest to prompt eye contact. Phil’s eyes are pools of blue and flecks of gold and Dan just knows he’s got a stupidly soft smile on his face as he speaks.

“I like being around you too, spork.”

Phil grins at this. He leans closer, just enough to sink his finger into Dan’s dimple. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

Dan nods, making no move to get off the sofa. “When do you want to work on the rest of the photos?”

There’s a shadow of something hurt on Phil’s face, but it’s gone so quickly Dan figures he imagined it. “You know, I’d like to hang out sometimes… Like, we don’t have to just work on that everytime we see each other, yeah?” He sounds nervous.

“Right,” Dan says slowly. It’s not that he hadn’t considered this, but he hadn’t gone so far as to assume Phil would actually want to do that. “Well, when’s the project due?”

“It’s not due until the end of December, so yeah… we’ve got time to work on that. I just…” Phil clears his throat as he looks away. He’s absentmindedly tugging on a thread on Dan’s jeans, and Dan wonders if he’s going to manage to pull it off completely. “We’re friends, yeah?”

An awkward laugh escapes Dan at that. He’s positive he doesn’t miss the flash of hurt on Phil’s face this time, but he doesn’t know what to make of it. “Yeah, Phil, of course we are. And sure, we can hangout whenever you want. In fact, what about tomorrow? I need to get some homework done, but we can meet up at the cafe for lunch?”

Phil smiles at this, a proper one with his tongue poking through his teeth. Dan melts at the sight. “Sure, okay, yeah. I’d like that.”

“It’s a date, then,” Dan says, his voice mostly teasing. He leaves his words hanging in the air between them, open to whatever interpretation that Phil might want to give them.

“A date,” Phil echoes, nodding and looking down at where his hand is resting on Dan’s leg. “I guess I’ll let you get home, then.”

Even though Dan knows he needs to go, he doesn’t like the idea of actually doing it. Still, he can’t overstay his welcome, even if Phil does enjoy having him around. Besides, he needs to get home and take his meds before he goes to bed anyway. He drags his legs off Phil’s lap and stands, stretching his arms up above his head to give them some relief. They’d been lounging on the sofa for hours now, and he desperately needed to get his blood circulating again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Dan says on a yawn, dropping his hand to ruffle Phil’s hair. If Phil’s bothered by the gesture, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah.” He stands and follows Dan to the door, watching him as he gets ready to leave. “Oh, here,” Phil says suddenly, spinning around and stepping back into the lounge, returning with Dan’s coat in his hand. He holds it out and gestures for Dan to turn around. Dan does so, but he rolls his eyes as if he’s not secretly pleased by the gesture.

When Dan turns around, there’s a soft, fond look on Phil’s face. Dan wants to kiss him. He wants to so, so badly, but there’s still that voice in his head, reminding him that Phil isn’t interested in him in that way. So instead, he lifts his hand in a little two-fingered salute, cringing at himself as soon as he does it. “See you tomorrow, then, Philly.”

“Goodnight, Dan. Be safe going home.” The repeated sentiment stirs something warm in Dan’s chest.

“Goodnight,” Dan echoes softly as the door closes behind him.

~~~

Dan sits in the cafe, his laptop open on the table in front of him. He’s a few paragraphs into an essay about a topic he doesn’t care about and hardly remembers, his cursor blinking at him condescendingly. If the other two or three customers weren’t present, he’d thump his head on the table in anger, barista be damned. It’s the same barista that served him and Phil that night a couple weeks ago, Dan realizes, so they probably wouldn’t be surprised if Dan just started acting off his rocker.

He’s mid-thought about all the situations this barista has probably had to see, wondering to himself if she’s ever had to handle a mental breakdown, which then steers him onto the thought path of wondering if that’s what’s actually happening to him right now or if he’s overreacting. His train of thought is completely thrown off the track when he hears a voice as someone settles on the seat in front of him.

“Are you okay? You’re looking a little pale,” Phil says, his face morphed into one of concern. He pushes a hand through his slightly disheveled quiff, helping it a little bit but mostly just giving it a more purposefully tousled look.

Dan blinks at him. “What would you do if I said I was having a mental breakdown?” he blurts unthinkingly.

Phil raises an eyebrow at him, looking surprised but not as confused as Dan expected him to. He leans forward, folding his arms on the table and resting his weight against them. It’s a good look, Dan thinks to himself idly. He’s wearing a pink and purple hoodie, and his black-framed glasses. He looks like a snack, if Dan’s completely honest. “Are you?” He asks, breaking Dan out of his cycle of inappropriate thoughts.

Sighing, Dan leans over and rests his head against the table, staring blearily up at Phil. “No? I mean… I don’t know, honestly. I don’t guess so.” He punctuates it with a shrug, which just results in him bumping his shoulder into the table. It stings.

Phil smiles down at him like he’s not bothered at all by Dan’s odd mood. It’s nice. “Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, sweet and considerate as ever.

Dan shrugs again. His shoulder aches now. He sits up with an exasperated groan. “I just feel like I’m wasting what’s left of my stupid life sat here working on a paper I don’t give two fucks about, but I can’t drop out because my parents would kill me. Not that I care what they think, but they’re helping me pay for a flat and stuff, so I can’t exactly do what I want, can I? I just… I want a different life. This one sucks.” He hadn’t realized how worked up he was until he’s finished, but now that he’s done with his rant, he’s left panting and maybe there’s a wetness in his voice that wasn’t there before. He clenches his eyes shut tightly. He’s not going to cry in front of his new friend, in the middle of a goddamn coffee shop. He isn’t.

The feeling of a hand brushing against his own has his eyes snapping open, staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil offers him a sympathetic smile. Dan hates pity, but he doesn’t feel like this is Phil’s intention, somehow. “Do you want to do something to take your mind off of all that?” Phil asks him sweetly.

Dan’s inclined to say yes. He’d love a break, even if it’s not for long, but he knows he needs to finish this godforsaken essay if he has a chance in hell of passing this class. “I can’t. I need to finish this essay.” His voice is bitter.

“Okay. Do you want me to leave so you can focus?” Phil doesn’t sound thrilled at the idea, but Dan appreciates the gesture.

“No, I can work with you here. If you don’t, you know, mind that I’m not going to be very entertaining.”

Phil laughs, his tongue poking out in Dan’s favorite smile. “I think I can entertain myself. I’ve got some things I can work on while you’re doing that. I’m a little behind some of my projects for work, so this would probably be a good time to finish them.”

Dan really needs to focus on his assignment, but the mention of Phil’s job piques his interest. He hadn’t really mentioned that before, although Dan had already deduced that he probably had some kind of job, considering he’s a part-time student living in a flat by himself. Unable to quell his curiosity, Dan props his head in his hand, watching Phil pull out a laptop and a notebook from his backpack. “What kind of projects?” He asks.

“Some videos to edit. Mostly ads and things like that. I think I’ve got a motivational video and a music video, too.” Phil makes a grimace at that, but Dan’s only about a thousand times more curious now.

Feigning nonchalance, Dan nods and glances at his own laptop. He’s got a little over a thousand words and he’s got to have twenty-five hundred to meet the assignment requirements. But, it’s not due for another week, so surely he can spare a few moments of watching Phil work, right?

Whether he can or not, he decides he’s going to.

“Can I watch you edit?” he asks, his voice unintentionally small.

Phil looks surprised when he glances up, but he’s quick to nod. “Yeah, of course. Um…” He points vaguely to the space on Dan’s side of the booth. “Mind if I move over there?”

Dan grins and moves his own backpack out of the way, clearing a spot for Phil to put his own things. “Be my guest,” he says, mocking a terrible French accent.

After moving his things over, Phil seems to remember that they were originally only meeting to have lunch, and yet neither of them have any food. “Do you want me to go grab us something to eat?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” Dan reaches into his pocket for his wallet, but Phil’s hand on his wrist stops him.

“I’ll pay, I asked you out, remember?” Phil’s got a cheeky grin on his face as he stands from the table. “What do you want?”

Dan is very nearly blushing at how chivalrous Phil is being, but he clears his throat in an effort to control himself. “A strawberry lemonade, please.”

Phil quirks an eyebrow. “Okay, what else? What do you want to eat?”

It’s probably just the usual bout of nerves, but the idea of food is not very appealing to Dan in this moment. His stomach turns at the idea of eating something, and he’s pretty sure that it’s written all over his face. “I’m actually not very hungry right now,” he says awkwardly.

There’s a flash of confusion on Phil’s face, but he manages a slow nod. “Okay. So just the strawberry lemonade?”

Dan nods. “Yeah.”

“Alright,” Phil says, flashing a smile. “Be right back, then.”

Dan tries not to watch Phil as he makes his way to the counter to order, but his attempt is probably mediocre at best. His eyes stray from him for a few seconds at a time, but generally his gaze is casually sweeping over Phil’s body, appreciating the way Phil’s jeans fit around his ass. As soon as that thought catches up with him, he looks away, embarrassed. He’s not about to sit here ogling his friend while they're out for lunch, even if they have held up a rather flirtatious banter since meeting.

“Here you go,” Phil says a few moments later, setting a fairly large pink drink in front of Dan. He’s got something pink as well, but it’s a deeper, more magenta shade than Dan’s. “I also got you a pistachio muffin, for later, if you decide you’re hungry.” Phil places a paper bag down, and Dan stares at him in surprise.

“Oh… Thank you,” Dan stutters out.

Phil shrugs, moving to sit down back beside Dan. He situates his drink on the right side of his laptop before reaching for the paper bag. He takes out a bagel, sitting it on a napkin and closing the bag back up, scooting it towards Dan. He glances at him, appearing a little startled to find Dan already staring back at him. Before Dan can apologize for being creepy, Phil smiles and points to the bag. “Take it home, if you don’t want it now. You’ll be hungry eventually.”

Dan can’t say no to that, obviously, so he just nods mutely. “Alright, sure.”

Looking pleased with himself, Phil opens up his laptop and clicks around until he’s got a video editing program loading up, switching back to his email to click on the file attached. “So, usually clients just email me and after we agree on rates and such, I put the things I’m sent in folders that are in order of due date. I’m a little behind, so I haven’t organized these yet, but I don’t have that many to work on, so it’s not that big of a deal,” Phil explains as he opens his files and renames the thing he’s downloading.

Nodding along, Dan reaches blindly for his drink, his nose wrinkling when he takes a sip. Glancing down, he realizes he’d picked up Phil’s by mistake. “Mate, what is this?” he asks teasingly, gesturing to the cup when Phil looks at him in confusion.

“It’s dragon fruit lemonade,” Phil says defensively.

“It’s terrible,” Dan decides, setting it down and reaching for his own instead.

“It is not! It’s really tasty,” Phil argues, snatching his drink and taking a long, exaggerated sip as if to prove his point.

Dan scrunches his nose, definitely not agreeing with that assessment. “Try mine,” he offers, holding his cup out for Phil to take a sip from.

Phil rolls his eyes but leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw and taking a little sip. Dan gives him a look, and he rolls his eyes again before sucking a little more into his mouth. Swallowing and leaning back, Phil narrows his eyes, looking to be seriously contemplating the taste. “Well, it’s not terrible, but mine’s just more exotic and fancy.”

“You should stick to editing and photography, bub. You’d make a terrible lemonade critic,” Dan says solemnly.

There’s an adorable pout on Phil’s lips as he jokingly digs his elbow into Dan’s side. “Rude,” he mumbles, focusing on his laptop again.

Dan grins, and leans closer, tentatively dropping his chin onto Phil’s shoulder to watch him work. Phil’s eyes dart to meet his, and Dan offers him a saccharine-sweet smile. Phil makes a big show out of rolling his eyes at this, but ultimately he focuses on his work, quietly talking Dan through the process as he edits clips and adds sound when appropriate.

Eventually, Dan goes back to working on his essay, but they stay close, talking when there’s a lull in creativity or when Dan just cannot take a moment more of affidavits and case files. Phil sometimes prods him and asks him to watch a section of the video he’s working on, asking if the transitions are smooth to an untrained eye, and Dan likes helping when he can. It’s nice, he realizes, working beside someone even when they’re both working on their own separate projects. It’s copacetic.

“I’m so tired of this,” Dan groans, thumping his head back against the booth. It makes a cracking sound and he winces, a sharp pain spreading across his skull. “Ow,” he whines.

Phil glances at him, concerned. “You alright?”

Dan nods, rubbing the back of his head. He gets a cheeky idea and pouts at Phil. “Kiss it better?” he simpers.

Phil doesn’t even blink. He rolls his eyes but nods, gesturing for Dan to get closer. “Turn your head, you little troll.”

Surprised that Phil’s actually catering to this whim, it takes Dan a moment to do as he’s told. He does, though, turn his head to look away, his hand still covering the spot he’d injured. He feels Phil take his hand and move it out of the way, and then he feels a gentle kiss pressed to the tender spot. His veins flood with warmth, so suddenly it causes a shiver down his spine. There’s no way Phil doesn’t notice it.

Luckily, he doesn’t comment on it. “Does it hurt badly?” Phil asks sweetly, his dainty fingers coming up to gently skim Dan’s scalp.

“No,” Dan says faintly. “Just tender.”

Phil hums. “Poor thing,” he mocks. He’s still stroking Dan’s hair, but Dan turns his head anyway, pouting when he sees the smirk on Phil’s face.

“I’m injured, and here you are, taking the piss.”

“Sorry. Maybe next time you’ll tone down the theatrics,” Phil suggests.

Dan huffs. “I was a theatre kid, it’s in my blood.”

Whatever he said seems to strike Phil as interesting, as he tilts his head and considers Dan, a thoughtful look on his face. “Why don’t you do theatre anymore?” Phil asks, completely out of left field.

Dan lets out a nervous laugh. “Uh… I don’t know. I just… Don’t?”

Phil nods. He shrugs, then, turning back to his laptop. “I think you should do some auditions. You’ve got an actual talent for it, I think you’d do really well.”

This throws Dan for a loop. He wasn’t expecting Phil to say anything like that, not at all. He knew he was usually dramatic, but it was mainly in a funny kind of way, he never thought about getting seriously involved with theatre now that he was an adult. It’s… not a bad idea, though. He’s not entirely opposed, at least.

“Maybe,” he says noncommittally. He actually really likes the idea of getting involved in it, now that it’s been presented to him as an option. He doesn’t plan on telling Phil that yet, though, no matter how much he genuinely likes him. “Can you read over this paragraph and tell me what you think?”

~~~

The days and weeks pass by in a flurry after that day in the cafe. Dan wasn’t aware how much free time he really had until he started spending it with Phil. There was hardly a single day that passed when he didn’t spend time with Phil, either at Phil’s flat, the cafe, or even the library, which is where they found themselves now. Dan had a research project due in two days, and in true Dan fashion, he’d procrastinated it until the last possible moment. Phil had wanted to work on his photo series some more today, and when Dan said he had to finish this project, Phil said that it was perfect for what he needed.

So there they were, sat across from each other in the library, Dan hard at work on his stupid research project while Phil scribbled in a notebook and occasionally took photos of Dan. Sometimes Phil would stand up without saying a word, only to walk around and take shots from different angles. Dan was genuinely trying to submerge himself in his project, so most of the time he wasn’t even aware of what Phil was doing, too caught up in his own head to pay too much attention.

If Phil had any complaints about Dan’s focus being on his own work, he didn’t say. Sometimes he would say Dan’s name, snapping a photo as soon as Dan looked up at him, but mostly he just stayed quiet, working on his own things while Dan did the same. They’d done this a lot, when Dan or Phil had work they needed to get done but they wanted to spend time together. It was nice, working in a shared space on their own things, although sometimes if they were at Phil’s flat they’d get distracted by food or anime or video games. Still, even that was nice, as Phil was lovely to be around regardless of what they were doing.

They’d been at the library for probably close to three hours now, and Dan was reaching his limit. He had actually gotten a lot done, but his vision was starting to go fuzzy and he couldn’t concentrate on what he was reading. It didn’t help that he was basically starving, and his head felt like it was full of cotton. Quietly, so as not to disturb anyone else, he closes his laptop and folds his arms over it, resting his head on his forearms and closing his eyes. He hears a shift in front of him and a few moments later he feels a body in the seat next to his, a hand coming to stroke his back in soft sweeps.

“You okay?” Phil’s soft voice whispers.

Dan nods, not opening his eyes. “Just tired. Can we be done for today?”

Phil laughs quietly. “Yeah, bub, we can be done. Do you want to come back to mine?”

Wordlessly, Dan nods again. Phil hums a confirming noise before going to gather up his things. It takes Dan a moment, but eventually he sits up and does the same, shoving his laptop in his bag along with one of his law textbooks. Phil takes one of the books he’d been using and disappears to put it back for him, and just the thought of the gesture warms Dan up from the inside.

It’d been a little over a month since they met and nothing had happened between them yet. Not that he didn’t love just being Phil’s best friend; he did, so much. But… He wouldn’t keep lying to himself, he was interested in Phil romantically. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap between friendship and more, though, not when he had no solid proof that Phil felt the same. Other than some assumptions that Phil liked him due to some of his behaviors, Dan had nothing to go on. And, he reasoned, someone can be nice to you without wanting to date you, and he can’t fault Phil for being a good person, even if it threw his emotions for a loop every time.

“Ready to go?” Phil asks, suddenly standing beside the table, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

Dan nods, dragging himself out of his melancholy thoughts in order to stand and grab his own backpack. He follows Phil outside, sending the librarian a polite smile as they pass her. He’s not really paying attention to where he’s going, trusting Phil to lead them safely, so when his body collides into something solid, a squeak falls out of his mouth without his permission.

Phil glances over his shoulder at Dan, a smile on his face. “Sorry,” he apologizes for his abrupt stop that caused Dan to run into him. He gestures outside. “It’s pouring,” he informs him.

Fuck. Dan could honestly cry right now, in a totally not dramatic way. He’s just had a mentally draining day, and to see that on top of that it’s pouring down rain, well, it’s not his favorite thing ever, that’s for sure. He’s highly aware of the fact that his hair is tediously straightened and pushed up into a sort-of fluffy quiff that could never look anywhere near as good as Phil’s does. But he knows that this rain will very much ruin that illusion, and he’s hyper aware of the fact that Phil has yet to see his curly hair.

So, yeah, he could cry.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks, that same soft voice he always uses when he thinks Dan’s upset about something. “It probably won’t rain for long, we can wait it out, if you want,” he offers.

Dan’s inclined to say yes just so Phil doesn’t see his natural hair, but his growling stomach and borderline exhaustion demands that he find a soft sofa, preferably Phil’s, as soon as possible. “No, it’s fine,” Dan mumbles. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get to yours and order some food, right?”

Phil is definitely aware that Dan is not feeling right, but he graciously doesn’t call him out on it now. Dan knows that will not last, but he’s grateful for it nevertheless. “Of course. Come on, watch your step, it’s probably slippery.” Phil reaches for Dan’s hand probably without thinking, and Dan lets him take it. Phil’s hand is cool to the touch, despite the fact that it wasn’t all that cold inside the library, and Dan absently remembers something he’d said about a week ago when they were watching Bake Off at Phil’s flat.

“Dan, c’mere!” Phil whined, reaching for Dan’s shirt and tugging him into a sort-of-but-not-quite cuddle on the sofa. Dan went easily, allowing Phil to pull him in, completely unbothered. If anything, he was thrilled. Phil was a little tipsy, but Dan was more than happy to oblige this whim, and he’d make sure Phil’s inebriation didn’t lead to anything they wouldn’t allow themselves to do sober. “You’re so warm,” Phil sighed, tucking his head into the crook of Dan’s neck. “Like a little space heater.”

The memory of that moment flashes back into Dan’s mind now, and he can’t help but squeeze Phil’s hand, trying to transfer some of his warmth to the other man’s chilled fingers. Phil glances back at Dan, but doesn’t pull his hand away. He squeezes back and turns to watch where they’re going, leading the way sure-footedly. Dan’s happy to let him.

~~~

The rain is relentless the whole way back to Phil’s flat, and both of them are shivering by the time they get inside. Phil’s all mumbled apologies as he heads to his bedroom, going to retrieve some dry clothes for them to change into. Dan waves him off as he goes, tugging his sopping shoes off and depositing them next to the door. He peels off his hoodie, leaving his t-shirt practically plastered to his chest. It’s a bad day for a white t-shirt, he realizes, seeing the way it’s practically transparent with water.

“I got you a hoodie and some pants. Do you want-” Phil stops, and Dan looks up at him, holding his dripping hoodie out sheepishly.

“Sorry, I don’t know where you want me to put this,” Dan apologizes, gesturing with the wet fabric.

Phil is very obviously checking him out right now, but Dan is very much pretending not to be affected by it in the least. “Uh… I’ll throw it in the wash for you,” he answers, his voice a little strained. He shakes his head, perhaps to clear it, then reaches out to hand Dan the little bundle of clothes in his hand. “I left a couple pairs of sweatpants out on the bed, you can just pick whatever you want to wear. I know you’re picky about your matching outfits or whatever,” Phil sounds a little bit more himself, punctuating his words with a teasing roll of his eyes.

Dan sticks his tongue out childishly, trading his hoodie for the dry clothes. “If I don’t care about my look, I’ll end up with fashion catastrophes like this!” He complains, gesturing wildly to Phil’s bright yellow emoji bottoms, which he’s paired with an old Friends t-shirt.

Huffing, Phil pushes him gently into the direction of his bedroom. “Go get changed, you absolute menace. I’ll order chinese.”

“Ooh, get me some egg rolls,” Dan calls back. He hears an exasperated sigh, but he grins, knowing Phil will order him all the egg rolls he wants. He loves that about him, among other things. He finds several pairs of sweatpants on the bed, and after a moment of consideration he chooses a pair of plain grey ones. Not that it matters, he reasons with himself, even as he double checks that the grey doesn’t clash with the offensive highlighter green of the hoodie he’s been given.

After changing into Phil’s clothes, Dan takes his wet clothes down the hall and deposits them in Phil’s washer. He hasn’t started it running yet, so Dan goes ahead and does it himself, humming quietly as he tosses a tide pod in and sets the water temperature. When he’s finished, he turns around, nearly having a heart attack when he sees Phil standing there, watching him with a small smile.

“Bloody fuckin’ hell, you made me jump!” Dan nearly gasps, his hand flying up to clutch at his heart. “Why’re you creeping?” he asks, his voice bordering on whiny as he steps past him and goes to the lounge.

Phil giggles, like properly giggles, at that. “I wasn’t. You just didn’t hear me over your concert.”

Dan sends him a glare. “Don’t mock me, Lester.”

“I would never,” Phil promises, batting his eyelashes playfully. Dan doesn’t believe it for a second, but he rolls his eyes and drops onto the sofa, choosing to ignore him. “Your hair’s all wet,” he observes.

The reminder has Dan biting his lip and bringing his hands up to flatten it as much as he can. “I know,” he says sadly.

“Want me to get you a towel?” Phil offers.

When Dan shrugs, Phil takes this as permission and hauls himself off the sofa and disappears down the hall to the bathroom. Left alone, Dan takes a moment to look down at the hoodie he’s wearing now. It’s bright, bright green, a shade he normally wouldn’t be caught dead wearing, and it’s got the York University emblem on it. Dan vaguely remembers Phil saying he’d gone there, but it had been awhile since they’d talked about it, and Dan honestly didn’t have much reason to remember it. But, being wrapped in something so personal to Phil, who seemingly loved his university days, has Dan feeling warm and fuzzy and full of something that’s just a bit too close to something.

“Here,” Phil’s voice comes from beside him, and Dan looks up to see him holding a towel out for Dan as he sits down. The weight of the realization Dan’s just had, or what feels like a realization, leaves him immobile, staring dumbly at the towel like he doesn’t know what to do with it. “Want me to do it?” Phil offers, his voice dripping in sugar sweetness.

All Dan can do is nod numbly, but that’s all the permission Phil needs. He shifts to sit up on his knees, giving him a height advantage that normally Dan has between the two of them. He’s gentle as he rubs the towel over Dan’s hair, and Dan’s eyes are glued onto every shift in Phil’s expression. Phil seems to notice, his eyes dropping to study Dan’s face with a tender gaze. Carefully, slow enough that Dan could stop him if he wanted to, Phil shifts, moving one of his legs to the other side of Dan’s, properly straddling his lap when he settles.

“Dan,” Phil breathes out. The word sends shivers through Dan’s whole body. He’s warm all over, his chest a furnace of heat where his heart is frantically pumping to the whisper of his name leaving Phil’s lips. “Is this okay?”

Dan can’t breathe, he definitely can’t speak, so all he manages is a weak nod. Phil’s eyes search Dan’s, and there’s something cautious, unsure in his gaze. Dan hopes, he fucking prays that the same look isn’t mirrored in his own gaze, because god, he’s never been more sure about anything in his life. His hands, shaky as they are, come to rest gently at Phil’s hips. The touch startles Phil into shifting on his lap and Dan can’t help but drop his forehead to Phil’s shoulder with a soft groan.

“Sorry,” Phil laughs. His hand comes up to card through Dan’s curling hair, apparently dropping the pretense of drying it. “Your hair’s curly,” he notices, sounding surprised. This is not where Dan thought this was going at all. “I didn’t know your hair was curly.” He almost sounds offended.

Choking out a laugh at the ridiculous turn in conversation, Dan rolls his head to the side and stares incredulously up at Phil. “I know. That was intentional, believe me.”

Phil frowns at him. “It’s cute,” he says, his tone defensive.

Dan snorts. “For a hobbit, maybe.” He closes his eyes, relaxed in the way Phil pets his head gently.

“A very cute hobbit,” Phil insists. Dan feels his lips drag across his temple and he shivers again.

Pulling away, Dan looks up into Phil’s face and smiles at the adorable pout on his lips. And looking at that, Dan really doesn’t know that a stronger man could resist it. He leans in, but he remembers something important at the last second. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, his lips a breath away from Phil’s.

There’s an audible gulp, and Dan readies himself for rejection. Phil’s lips part, and he knows, already, that it’s going to be a no, he could never be lucky to meet a guy who is both attractive and sweet and also gay and-

Two things happen at once.

Phil, for all his hesitation, breathes out a quiet, but certain, “yes.”

At the exact moment, there’s a jarring buzz, signalling the takeaway has arrived.

Dan has quite literally never been so full of disappointment.

They sit, frozen in the moment for just that- a moment. And then Phil’s sending him an apologetic smile, shifting to rise from Dan’s lap. Dan’s foolish hands latch onto his shirt, and Phil gently tugs them loose, a fleeting expression of sadness on his features. He hesitates, but then gestures to the door, backing away from the sofa. Dan’s certain his devastation is palpable.

“I’ll be right back.”

Dan can only watch him go. Whatever invisible wall was holding the waves of disappointment from crashing against the shore of Dan’s heart comes crumbling down the moment Phil disappears from view and Dan allows himself a moment to hurt for this missed opportunity. Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he allows it to wash over him. It was in the moment, he’s certain. That was his specific moment, maybe the only moment he’ll get to act on his feelings. Fuck. Fuck it all, if that’s how this dissipates between them. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair and-

“Dan.” Phil’s voice is firm, assured. Dan barely has the energy to look at him, but when he does something passes over Phil’s face, a clear understanding of what Dan’s feeling in this moment. He doesn’t give Dan a chance to respond, setting the takeaway bag on the coffee table and immediately resuming his position on Dan’s lap.

Confused but not opposed, Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s waist, clutching the t-shirt in his fingers. Phil smiles down at him. It’s a sweet, affectionate thing. His hand comes up to rest on Dan’s cheek, his thumb brushing down and dipping into the dimple Phil’s got such an affinity for. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers, repeating Dan’s own words.

Swallowing hard, Dan nods. “Yeah. Yeah, please.”

That’s all the permission Phil needs to lean in, framing Dan’s lips with his own. Dan’s hand comes up and rests on Phil’s wrist, his other still scrabbling for purchase against Phil’s side. He leans into the feeling of Phil’s lips on his, a soft give and take as they part and come back together several times, really just working out what the other likes. Phil’s not taking it further than the soft almost-open-mouth kisses that they’re sharing now, and Dan’s definitely okay with that.

After what probably isn’t more than five minutes, Phil gently presses a hand to Dan’s chest and slowly pulls away. His gaze is soft as he looks at Dan, his tongue absentmindedly swiping across his lips in a way that Dan thinks should be illegal. “Food, then… more of that?” Phil questions hopefully.

Dan nearly laughs. As if he wants literally anything else. “Absolutely more of that. The food can honestly go fuck itself right now, though, if I’m being honest.” Of course, his stomach decides that it’s an appropriate time to remind them how long it’s been since they’ve eaten, and they both glance down in surprise as it growls. Dan’s cheeks flush, while Phil cackles maniacally.

“Sorry, that was just- you tried- and then-” Phil is practically gasping for air, covering his mouth as he giggles. “Right. Let’s get some food in you, before you turn into the hulk or something.”

Dan pouts when Phil climbs off his lap and begins sorting out their food. “Rude, honestly.”

Phil hums, shrugging. “I bought your dinner, I reckon I can insist that you eat it,” he teases, grinning over his shoulder at Dan.

“Whatever, fine,” Dan says. He stands, gesturing to the kitchen. “Ribena?” He asks. He’s familiar enough with Phil’s kitchen that it doesn’t feel weird offering to go make their drinks.

“Wine, actually. There should be a bottle in the fridge from last time.” He doesn’t meet Dan’s eyes when he says this, but Dan’s secretly thrilled. They’d had a disagreement about whether or not you should chill wine before drinking it. Dan was pro-chill, and Phil was indifferent but insisted he didn’t have space in his refrigerator to keep a full bottle of wine. Much maneuvering later, Dan managed to fit in a smaller bottle of rose, much to his own delight.

“Right, some wine coming right up,” Dan says, affecting a heavily posh accent as he disappears into the kitchen.

As he’s pouring their drinks, the events of the last half hour finally hit him. He actually has to lower the bottle of wine to take a moment to process the fact that he’d just kissed his best friend. They’d fully made out, right there on Phil’s sofa. Dan manages to stifle his shocked laugh, because as thrilled as he is by this turn of events, he really doesn’t want Phil to hear him laughing to himself in his kitchen like some kind of idiot.

“A glass of rose, for you,” Dan announces as he comes back into the lounge.

Phil grins up at him, taking the drink with his nose raised up in the air. “Thank you, waiter,” he says, affecting a terrible posh accent.

Dan settles onto the sofa beside him, giving him a sideways glance. “Are you trying to mock me?”

There’s a sipping noise, and Phil offers a shrug as he smirks into his glass of wine. “Perhaps.”

“I do not talk like that.” He does.

Phil shrugs, setting his glass down. He looks back at Dan, tilting his head in a considering sort of way. “I reckon you kind of have some sort of Christopher Robin kinda vibe.”

Dan can’t help but dimple at him. “Winnie the Pooh was literally my favorite thing in the world when I was, like, six.”

“Really?” Phil asks. He sounds endeared. “That’s cute. You kinda look like Christopher Robin, too, actually.”

“I mean, right now I definitely look like a hobbit, not a cute animated character from a loveable children’s franchise, but thanks, I guess?”

Phil rolls his eyes at this, stuffing his mouth full of rice. He chews quickly, and as soon as he swallows he looks at Dan, his eyebrows furrowed in what looks like disappointment. “I really don’t like you talking trash about yourself. I think your hair is really cute.” Dan starts to protest and Phil raises a hand to stop him. “I know, but I’m just saying. You may not agree, but I just wanted you to know, that like, it’s a good look.”

Dan looks down at his food, his heart swooping as the words sink into his skin. He clears his throat, glancing over at Phil and nodding. “Right, well… thanks.”

There’s a smile on Phil’s face as he shrugs. He catches Dan off-guard, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Dan’s cheek. Dan’s face feels like it’s burning at the touch. “Netflix?”

~~~

It’s several hours later and the sun has set over the horizon, leaving a dusky light streaming in through the balcony door. Not that Dan is paying attention to the lighting right now. That’s the last thing on his mind, actually. Right now he’s sat in Phil’s lap, his mouth working fervently against Phil’s. Phil’s got his hands on Dan’s ass, and every now and then he squeezes gently, sending a shock of shivers down Dan’s spine. It’s so good, Dan is actually wondering why the hell they hadn’t tried this before.

Taking a breath, Dan pulls away, blinking blearily down at Phil. His hair is a mess from Dan’s hands running through it, and his lips are pink and slick with a mixture of their spit. He’s so goddamn perfect, Dan really wishes he had a camera.

With a laugh, he realizes he has access to a very nice camera right now. He twists his torso and reaches over to the coffee table, grabbing the very expensive and professional camera of Phil’s. He tinkers with it until he figures out how to turn it on, then he looks at Phil, raising his eyebrows in question. Phil studies him for a second but nods. Dan grins, lifting the camera up and taking what is probably a really clumsy and terrible shot of Phil’s face. He takes two more, and on the third, Phil reaches for Dan, sliding his hands up underneath his borrowed shirt.

“Oh!” Dan squeaks when Phil rubs his thumb over a nipple. Dan drops the camera, carefully, onto the cushion beside them. He sighs, dropping his head back as Phil leans in and latches his lips onto Dan’s neck.

He only kisses at first, then small nibbles follow. After a few moments, he tilts his head back and looks up at Dan with a smile. “Do you like this?” Phil asks, his voice incredibly sweet.

Dan laughs and nods, dropping a hand to run through Phil’s hair again. “God, yes. You can keep going. I really like it a lot.”

“Teeth?” Phil asks, scraping them gently across a patch of Dan’s skin as he says it.

A shiver runs over Dan’s spine, and his hand tightens in Phil’s hair. “Yes,” he breathes, barely holding in a moan.

Phil goes back to lavishing his neck in kisses, and now gentle bites that increase in intensity until Dan is a whining, throbbing mess, rocking his hips against Phil’s desperately. One of Phil’s hands comes down to squeeze his ass, and Dan just needs a little bit more, just a little, and he’ll get there.

“Fuck, Phil. I’m so close,” he pants, dropping his forehead against Phil’s shoulder. It makes it harder for Phil to access his neck, but Dan can’t take anymore of the torture. It’s too much.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” Phil whispers in his ear.

Dan doesn’t even consider saying no. “Yes,” he breathes.

Phil gently guides him off his lap, leaving Dan standing in front of him as he makes quick work of pulling down Dan’s sweatpants. His blue eyes dance with mischief behind wisps of fallen hair as he takes Dan in the palm of his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the weeping head of his cock. “Is it weird to tell you that you’re just as beautiful here as you are everywhere else?” Phil whispers, his words dancing into the air between them.

Carefully, Dan drops a hand to Phil’s hair, brushing it back to see his eyes, unobstructed. “No. Not weird at all,” he murmurs, his voice suddenly strangled with emotion. Phil smiles up at him, and Dan’s so fucking gone.

The blowjob is one of the best he’s ever received. The awkwardness of being with a new person that way doesn’t claw through his ribs the way it normally does, he doesn’t try to hide from the way Phil holds his gaze as his cheeks hollow around Dan’s cock. He’s so… content, in Phil’s care, so unafraid of the way Phil handles him, sucking and wanking him with enthusiasm, as if they’ve done this a hundred times before. Dan’s whole body is on fire, and for every minute Phil works his mouth, he’s just that little bit closer to falling apart.

He tugs on Phil’s hair when he’s close. Phil blinks at him, maybe attempting a wink, but doesn’t stop his ministrations. Dan shivers. Pulling away for just a moment, Phil smacks his lips together and gazes up at Dan with something so heart-wrenchingly warm, Dan nearly looks away. “You can go in my mouth, if you want. I don’t mind the taste.”

Dan pets his hair. It’s ridiculously soft and smooth, just a bit greasy from going a little too long unwashed. Dan loves it. “Okay,” he murmurs. He gently guides Phil back to where he was, and Phil goes eagerly. Dan isn’t sure if it’s his enthusiastic approach to the task, or the way Phil’s eyes look, but when he falls over the edge, filling Phil’s throat with release, he feels the relief deep in his bones.

Phil neatly tucks Dan back into his pants before pulling his sweatpants up his legs, while Dan’s arms remain useless at his sides. He watches as Phil leans in, nuzzling his stomach before pressing a kiss to the waistband of the sweats, and Dan’s dizzy with the fresh wave of heat that courses through his body.

Rather than acting on his own sudden desire, Dan drops to his knees before the sofa, staring up at Phil and running his hands over his thighs. He’s impressed with Phil’s stamina, because despite being very obviously hard, he’s not touched himself this whole time. Phil stares down at Dan with such a sweet, easy grin, that Dan knows, he just knows that he can never go back from this. This feeling, the way Phil looks at him like he’s just put every star in the sky- Dan’s already addicted to it.

“Phil,” Dan breathes. He brings his hand that much closer to where Phil so desperately needs him. “Let me touch you.”

Phil kisses him. The angle should be awkward, with Dan knelt on the floor the way he is, but it’s nothing more than perfect. When they part, Phil sinks the pad of his thumb into Dan’s dimple. “Touch me,” he encourages.

The flutter of excitement in his stomach propels Dan forward, pushing gently on Phil’s shoulders so he’ll lean back, giving Dan space to work. Phil’s pajama bottoms, as disgustingly bright yellow as they might be, are loose and easy to work down Phil’s thighs. Dan’s patience expires there, however, and he makes no further move to remove them completely, instead shifting forward and tugging at the red Calvins that are so useless in concealing the shape of Phil.

“Fuck,” Dan whines as soon as they’re out of the way.

“Hm?” Phil inquires. His eyes are hooded when Dan looks up, and if he didn’t know any better, he might think Phil was drunk.

Dan swallows hard before leaning forward, giving a few little kitten licks to the head of Phil’s cock. “You’ve got a lovely cock. I thought you would.”

Phil groans. His hand catches in the mess of Dan’s drying hair. “How often have you thought about it?”

Dan pretends to consider this. “Enough,” he decides. Every day, his subconscious adds. He doesn’t give Phil a chance to respond, getting right down to business, stretching his lips around Phil and relishing in the weight on his tongue, the taste of him, the texture. All these things he loves about sucking cock, but attached to a person he loves even more.

The thought shocks him enough that he manages to accidentally gag himself.

“You alright?” Phil whispers, ever the considerate one. His hands are carding through Dan’s curls, and he’s got an awed look about him, as if he likes Dan’s hair like this, likes Dan like this.

Dan nods mutely. He has to pause, though, just so the thought bouncing around his head doesn’t do something reckless, like take a step out of his mouth. He presses a fleet of kisses to Phil’s thighs, counting them so that both thighs will get an equal amount of affection. When his head finally quiets, Phil’s growing soft.

“I’m sorry,” Dan murmurs. He presses his lips to the side of Phil’s cock and suckles. “My head was being loud. I needed a minute.”

Phil’s eyes could be screaming, the affection in them is that loud. “Take your time. If you’re uncomfortable, we can stop.”

Shaking his head, Dan offers him a grin. “Don’t get greedy, Lester. You’ve already shown me your willy, you might as well share it.”

Phil squeaks, his cheeks tinting with pink. He covers his face with his hands, peeking through the forest of fingers to blink at Dan. “Well, go on, then. You can… you know. As a treat.”

Dan giggles. He kisses Phil’s left thigh, then his right. Then he takes him back into his mouth, wrapping a hand around the base. One of Phil’s hands slips into Dan’s hair, but the other tangles with the fingers of Dan’s free hand. For every swirl of his tongue through Phil’s slit, Dan squeezes Phil’s fingers, and every time Dan drops to take him deeper, Phil tugs on his hair, a whispered apology falling from his lips every time.

“Close, Dan.” Phil sounds breathless, and Dan glances up at him, shivering at the sight of Phil already staring back, his full bottom lip captured between his teeth as he gazes down at him.

Dan doesn’t like the taste, normally. He usually only swallows to be polite, or if it’s convenient.

When Phil releases into his mouth, Dan swallows for neither of those reasons. He’s curious, and he wants to know how he tastes. Some part of him probably also just wants to impress Phil, but that part is secondary to the way his tongue cleans Phil off when he’s finished, greedy for a closeness that such an intimate part of sex provides.

When he pulls away, he blinks up at Phil, a little blearily. Phil sighs contently before swiping his thumb across Dan’s lips, no doubt cleaning him up. Dan doesn’t realize he’s crying until Phil swipes at his cheeks. “Come here,” he murmurs, tugging Dan up.

His legs are tv static beneath him, and will certainly be sore tomorrow, but Dan allows Phil to tug him into a sort of cradle in his lap. He doesn’t speak, he only pets Dan’s hair, peppering his face with sweet kisses while Dan thinks. It was only a couple tears, really, he justifies himself. Probably from allowing Phil as far down his throat as he did. There’s no other reason he would be emotional enough to cry while giving a blowjob, that’s for sure.

Dan’s not sure how long they sit there like that, but eventually he realizes it’s dark and panics. “I need to go.”

Phil’s eyes flash with hurt. “You can stay,” he argues gently.

He could. “I can’t,” Dan whispers.

Phil presses his forehead to Dan’s temple and takes a deep breath. “Tell me I don’t have anything I need to apologize for.”

Dan sinks his hand into Phil’s ruffled hair. “Of course you don’t. I wanted this.”

At that, Phil flinches away like he’s been burned. “As in, past tense? Like you don’t anymore?” His voice is panicked, and Dan would do, or will do, anything to calm him.

He gently cups Phil’s cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his cherry lips. “I want it. I want you.”

“Then stay,” Phil breathes.

Phil won’t make him. Dan knows he won’t. But he feels chained to this sofa, to Phil, as if he can feel the metal carving into his wrists.

“I’ll stay,” Dan promises.

~~~

When Dan wakes up, the first thing he notices is a weight against his back. It takes him a second to remember the night before, but when he does, his lips twitch into a smile. Carefully, so he doesn’t wake Phil, he shifts, rolling over until he comes face to face with the other man. Phil’s mouth is dropped open in sleep, and Dan leans closer, admiring his beautiful eyelashes. He feels a little creepy staring at Phil while he’s sleeping, but Dan can’t tear his eyes away. There’s just something so soft about Phil deep in sleep, something that has Dan completely captivated.

Until Phil begins to wake up, that is.

Dan quickly scoots back, pretending he just woke up to save himself the embarrassment. He watches Phil wake up through half-lidded eyes, smirking to himself when Phil smacks his lips loudly, only to groan when he realizes how bad his morning breath is, probably. His blue eyes flicker over to Dan and suddenly that gorgeous grin is taking over his features again, filling Dan with this bubbly sort of happiness that he doesn’t even try to hide.

“Good morning,” Phil mumbles, his voice scratchy from sleep. Dan feels his face flood with heat at the way that sound affects his still-sleepy body.

“Hi,” Dan squeaks, turning over to hide his growing problem in his pants. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm. But the waking is better by far,” Phil says with a cheeky grin. Dan returns it, right up until Phil leans in, planning to kiss him no doubt.

Dan makes quick work of covering Phil’s mouth. “Not so fast there, Casanova,” he tuts.

He feels Phil frown against the palm of his hand. “Why not? I had your willy in my mouth last night, and now I don’t get a good morning kiss?”

Dan rolls his eyes. “First of all, you need some lessons on consent. I can consent to something one day and not want it the next, you turnip.”

Phil presses a gentle kiss to the palm of Dan’s hand. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He pauses for a beat. “Could I please have a morning kiss?” he asks sweetly.

“Pft,” Dan snorts. He pats Phil’s mouth softly. “You didn’t brush your teeth last night, so that’s a hard no, bub.”

“Okay. How about if I go brush and use mouthwash? Then can I have a tiny kiss?” Phil requests, his eyes lighting up with joy. Dan wants to laugh at him- he’s like a little kid begging for a new toy.

“I’ll consider it,” he teases.

No sooner are the words out of his mouth before Phil is stumbling his way off the bed and making his way to the bathroom. “Be right back!” he sing-songs.

Dan snorts but watches him go. Left alone, the creeping doubts and worries begin weighing on him. They haven’t defined this, whatever it is, and Dan doesn’t want to be the one to ask. Phil’s older, he reasons, so he should be the one to ask Dan out or whatever. Just the thought of actually seriously dating Phil at all is enough to make him want to throw up with happy nerves, the best possible kind of lovesick butterflies inhabiting his stomach.

Still, as excited as it makes him, Dan doesn’t want to be the one to initiate the awkward “what are we” talk. He’s had his heart broken far too many times over that talk, or at the very least his pride. Another, smaller voice, argues that maybe he shouldn’t consider dating Phil at all. Their friendship is, after all, founded on Phil needing Dan for his photography project. Sure they have lots in common, but Phil has a whole other adult life outside of depressed, failing-law-school little Dan. And as much as Dan wants to believe Phil might actually like him beyond the circumstances of their friendship, he just very seriously doubts it. He might just be in this for the free model and the sex, now that they’ve evidently added that to the mix as well.

He’s thinking that this just reaffirms his reluctance to bring up the status of their relationship to Phil when his thoughts are derailed by Phil barrelling back into the room, hopping up onto the bed and immediately going to straddle Dan’s lap. “My mouth is minty fresh for you now,” he announces proudly.

Dan grins. “Just for me?”

Phil nods, mirroring the smile. “A little kiss?” he asks, holding his hand out and indicating a tiny amount with his fingers.

Rolling his eyes, Dan brings a hand up to massage at Phil’s side. “Don’t you want me to go brush my teeth too?”

To Dan’s surprise, Phil shrugs carelessly. “I honestly don’t mind it, but if you want to, I’ll wait.”

Dan blinks up at him. Phil stares right back, not caving. After several moments pass in their weird staring contest, Dan shrugs. “Alright, come here, then.”

Phil goes eagerly, pressing his lips to Dan’s with an intensity and passion that Dan wasn’t prepared for considering how early it probably is. Processing the time is a mistake, apparently, because as soon as that part of Dan’s brain is functioning, so is the part that reminds him that today is a Wednesday, which means he has class.

Pulling away with a sharp gasp, Dan reaches frantically to the side, searching for his phone in a panic.

“Dan?” Phil asks, his voice concerned.

“My phone- what time is it?” He asks, fumbling around on his- well, Phil’s- nightstand.

Phil shuffles off his lap, giving Dan space to sit up and finally grab his phone. He presses the power button and feels a fresh surge of panic realizing he’s only got half an hour, at best, to get up, change, and make it halfway across town back to campus for his nine o’clock property law lecture.

“I’m so late, fuck, I’m so fucked, god-” Dan rants, climbing out of bed and searching for clothes; his, Phil’s, right now he doesn’t care, he just needs to be dressed and out this door like now. “Fuck! Where are my- jeans, I need jeans. Did I wear jeans? What am I- pajamas, fuck,” Dan’s mumbling to himself under his breath.

“Dan?” Phil asks from where Dan left him on the bed. When Dan glances at him, he looks a little hurt. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, fuck, sorry, Phil. I’ve got class, and I really shouldn’t skip it, but later? We can-” he forces himself to stop there with the reminder that the ball is in Phil’s court right now. Dan clears his throat, glancing away. “Just let me know when you want to work on the photo series again, and we can sort out a time, yeah?”

“Er… Sure, okay,” Phil says slowly, like he doesn’t quite get it. “I think your clothes are still in my washer,” he says, his voice apologetic. “I forgot to switch the load out last night when we… er…” He trails off, and when Dan glances at him, his face is dusted with pink. It’s beautiful- he’s beautiful.

Dan shrugs the thought away. He makes the split-second decision to ignore what transpired the night before, at least until Phil confirms that the feelings Dan’s got are mutual. “Do you think I could borrow something of yours?” he asks, timid.

Phil smiles, a soft twitch of his lips, before nodding and moving to the dresser. “I’ll find you some jeans, but you can pick whatever from my closet,” he instructs, waving Dan towards the open closet door. Dan vaguely remembers whispering complaints to Phil about it the night before, whining about how creepy it was to sleep with the closet door open. Phil had ignored him, obviously.

After barely a minute of searching, Dan pulls out a sort of atrocious sweater, mostly black but with some purple and orange stripes that reminds him vaguely of the nineties. He doesn’t think before he shrugs out of his borrowed shirt, tugging the sweater over his head in its place. By the time he turns around, Phil’s stood there gazing at him with something adoring in his eyes.

“Here you go,” he says, holding out a pair of black jeans. “They’re ripped, just like you like them,” he teases.

Dan grins at him as he pushes his borrowed sweatpants off his legs. “Thanks, mate,” he replies. He tugs the jeans on, surprised that they fit him. Phil gives him a strange look when Dan makes a surprised noise and Dan shrugs. “Your ass is bigger than mine, so I’m just surprised these actually fit me. Flat ass problems,” he says, grinning at the way Phil blushes.

“I- you- I do not,” Phil argues pathetically. “My ass is-”

“Perfect,” Dan grins, unable to help himself, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around Phil’s waist. He kisses him deeply, convincing himself he’s got the time to do so. He doesn’t, not really.

“Shut up,” Phil mumbles against his mouth.

“‘S true,” Dan argues. “You’ve got a great ass. Mine isn’t nearly as mouth-watering as yours.” He’s taking the piss, a little, but mostly to cover the fact that he’s had many a wet dream about that plump ass on those long legs of Phil’s.

“Your… Yours is… perfectly adequate, Daniel,” Phil argues between kisses.

“Mhm,” Dan mumbles, not even listening. He swipes his tongue across Phil’s lips before forcing himself to step away. “I really need to go.” He can’t keep the guilt out of his voice.

Phil’s face drops, and Dan nearly cries at how disappointed he looks. “Yeah… Okay. I’ll text you later?” He sounds unsure.

Dan nods hurriedly, almost to spite the voice that’s telling him to shut up and not jeopardize their friendship. “Yeah, of course. I’ll see you later?”

Phil nods. “Alright.” He walks Dan to the door, where he pulls on his shoes hurriedly. Just before Dan turns to leave, Phil darts forward and kisses him again. “Be safe. Learn something new!”

“Alright, Dad,” Dan jokes, rolling his eyes. Phil’s nose crinkles adorably at the endearment. “Bye, Phil.”

“Bye, Dan,” Phil echoes, holding the door as Dan leaves.

Dan doesn’t hear it close until he’s at the end of the hall.

~~~

There’s a subtle shift in Dan’s life after that, or at least the part of his life that’s intertwined with Phil’s. It’s not so obvious at first, just hanging out a bit more often without the constant excuse of Phil’s photo series hanging over their heads.

And then, of course, there’s the sex. That’s rather new, Dan thinks to himself as he goes to let Phil into the flat he shares with three other blokes. They’re busy, out-going types, which is something that Dan is super disgusted by and can in no way relate to. But their frequent absence does have its perks, like now, when Phil wanted to see him and wanted to get out of his own flat. Up until now Dan hasn’t invited him over due to his roommates, but upon Phil’s insistence, he’d caved.

“Hi,” Dan greets when he opens up the front door.

Phil grins, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Dan’s cheek. “Hello there,” he says happily. He’s got a backpack slung over his shoulder, which Dan notices as Phil steps past him and further into the flat. “Will there be a grand tour?” He asks with a joking tone.

Dan snorts. He waves Phil ahead of him, into the lounge, which connects to a kitchen. There’s a hallway that cuts between the two common areas, and each of the four bedrooms, plus the shared bathroom, are that way. “This is it,” Dan says with a vague gesture around the room.

Phil takes it all in, as if there’s actually anything to see. “It’s cozy,” he says mildly.

He’s not sure if it’s just the sort of weird mood he’s been in or if that actually bothers Dan, but either way, he frowns. “I mean, I told you it wasn’t much, I don’t know what you expected.” He doesn’t mean to be harsh, but the tone flavors his words without his permission.

There’s a quirk to Phil’s left eyebrow when he looks at Dan. He definitely picked up on Dan’s attitude. “It just doesn’t look like you,” Phil says with a shrug. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Dan.”

Dan nods, looking away. He doesn’t want to fight with him. “RIght.” He nods to the hall. “Bedroom’s this way.”

He’s fully expecting a joke, so when it doesn’t come, he tenses. Something angry and red is poking at his anxiety demon, causing it to stir. He hates that feeling, he really, really does. Trying not to show it, he leads Phil into his room and promptly goes to sit on the bed, leaning back and watching as Phil surveys the new space. If Dan thought he was being observant in the lounge, his attention to detail in this room is tenfold. He studies every poster, every trinket, every key on Dan’s keyboard, as he slowly moves around the room.

They don’t speak for what feels like hours, but eventually, Phil drops his backpack on the floor by the bed and settles in front of Dan with a smile. “This is better,” he announces in a pleased voice.

Dan blinks at him. “What is?” He asks dumbly.

Phil reaches out and tucks his pinky underneath the rip of Dan’s jeans, stroking the skin there softly. “This room. It’s more you.”

“You think?” Dan asks, tilting his head as he considers it.

Phil nods with a smile. “It is, yeah. It’s full of little Dan things. I like it a lot.”

Dan tries, very hard, not to let that go to his head. “Thanks,” he says, unsure of what else to say.

There’s another silence as Phil tucks two more fingers into the rip of Dan’s jeans. It’s not really any sort of sexual searching, just patient, calming touches that go straight to Dan’s heart. Dan’s staring at his leg and Phil’s staring at him, always watching him when he’s at his most vulnerable.

Without a word, Phil pulls his hand away and kicks his shoes off, crawling up the bed to curl himself around Dan’s side. He hums a questioning noise, and Dan just nods mutely, allowing himself to be maneuvered into a cuddle. Dan can breathe easier then, avoiding Phil’s eyes but feeling the comfort of his body wrapped around Dan’s. There’s a warm kiss pressed to the spot just behind Dan’s ear and he lets out a breath.

“How about a nap?” Phil asks on a whisper.

“Are you staying the night?” Dan asks, glancing over at Phil’s backpack.

“I was going to, but if you’d rather I didn’t-” Phil begins.

Dan interrupts him with a shake of his head. “I want you to stay,” he says, voice small. He rolls over in Phil’s arms so they’re facing each other, clutching the front of Phil’s shirt in his hand. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Dan apologizes.

Phil smiles, ducking forward and pressing a soft kiss to Dan’s lips. “It’s alright,” he whispers when he pulls away. He lifts a hand to Dan’s hair, stroking the chocolate waves gently. “Do you actually wanna nap?”

Dan shrugs, feeling a flush on his cheeks at what he thinks is the sound of a suggestion. “I’m not really in the mood for like, sex, if that’s what you’re asking.”

There’s a look of panicked surprise on Phil’s face at this, and he’s quick to shake his head. “No, no, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, like, we can watch a movie? If you want to do that instead of sleep.”

Chewing his lip, Dan considers this. “I probably won’t be paying a whole lot of attention,” he admits, almost ashamed of his lack of attention span.

Phil smiles. “That’s alright.” He sits up and reaches for his backpack, pulling his laptop out and setting it on the bed. Before opening it, he turns to Dan with a quirked brow. “Are we going anywhere tonight?” he asks.

Dan shakes his head with a snort. “I’m not,” he says, disgusted at the very idea of leaving his warm bed.

“Good,” Phil says with a grin. He stands, immediately tugging his jeans down his legs. Dan isn’t sure if he’s meant to look away, but he doesn’t. He isn’t even particularly interested in a sexual sense, he’s just curious about how Phil looks when he’s getting undressed for bed. Phil looks up at him after tossing his jeans to the floor, and he has a light dusting of pink across his cheekbones when he sees Dan watching. “Quit looking at me,” he whines, climbing back into bed.

Dan turns his head pointedly to stare at Phil. “You’re nice to look at,” he says with a shrug.

Phil rolls his eyes. “You should take yours off too,” he says, poking Dan’s side.

Pulling the cover up, Dan gestures to his sweatpant-clad legs. “I’m already in my pjs, bub.”

“I know that,” Phil says with a sneaky little smirk as he opens his laptop and goes to Netflix. “But I think we ought to match.”

Dan huffs. “What if I get cold, huh?” He asks, quite theoretically, considering his body temperature almost always runs high.

Phil kisses his cheek. “I’ll keep you warm, baby,” he says sweetly.

Dan, embarrassingly, blushes at that. They still hadn’t defined this… whatever it was, so for now Dan only knew that he was quickly catching feelings for Phil. That was dangerous enough without the complication of their involvement for Phil’s photography project, so Dan’s decided that the easiest way to handle this is to ignore it. They can be friends, they can have casual sex, but he can’t even consider what would happen if those feelings turned into something more. His friendship with Phil had become one of the most important parts of his life, and he’d be beyond devastated if he did something, intentional or not, to jeopardize that.

Instead of acting on his instinct to move closer, emotionally and physically, Dan snorts, covering up the racing of his heart. “Shut up,” he says, struggling to keep the fond out of his voice. “Can we watch Avengers?” he asks, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

Phil smiles at him. He types for a moment before turning the screen around, where, sure enough, he’s pulled up the first Avengers movie. He fiddles with the settings on the volume and screen size for a moment before pressing play, snuggling back on the bed. He very unsubtly moves his arm to wrap it around Dan’s shoulders, ignoring Dan’s faux-annoyed huff at the cliche gesture.

“Are you hungry?” Phil asks him in a quiet voice only a few minutes into the film. “I may have brought some popcorn with me,” he admits, shameless.

Dan can’t help but roll his eyes. “Did you bring the kind I like?” he asks, mostly kidding. He’d only mentioned it once or twice, that a certain brand of popcorn tasted better to him, but ever since then he’s noticed that particular brand taking up more space in Phil’s cupboards.

To his surprise, Phil nods. “I did. I even brought that candy you like to pour into the popcorn.”

Hiding a pleased smile against Phil’s chest, Dan huffs. “Will you make the popcorn if I get the drinks sorted?”

Phil kisses his forehead. The gesture warms Dan’s entire face. “Sure,” Phil says easily. He goes to climb out of the bed, then stops suddenly, staring down at his bare legs. “Would your roommates be particularly offended by a half-naked man in your kitchen?” He sounds only partially concerned.

Dan grins, pulling Phil towards the door. “They’ll get over it if they are.”

~~~

They don’t have sex that time. Looking back on it, Dan thinks that’s an important thing to remember about the first time he invited Phil into his home. Whether it was because he could just tell that Dan was having a bad day, or maybe just not in the mood himself, Phil doesn’t initiate anything sexual, not even when they’re curled around each other watching stupid YouTube videos at two in the morning. Instead, he just holds Dan, and allows him to be.

Dan thinks about that a lot, later, after everything falls apart.

~~~

[carewyncromwell]

“How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die? It is love we must hold onto -- Never easy, but we try. Sometimes our happiness is captured; Somehow our time and place stand still... Love lives on inside our hearts and always will... Minutes turn to hours, days to years, then gone, But when all else has been forgotten, Still our song lives on...”

~“How Does a Moment Last Forever? (cover)” by Celine Dion

x~x~x~x

tw: character death, funerals, grief

x~x~x~x

The kelpie known as Ru Ollivander always knew their time on Earth would be fleeting -- at least, in comparison to the human witches and wizards they’d ended up living alongside. It was the main reason Ru had such a passion for photography, animation, and moving pictures. The thought of capturing a single moment and making it last beyond that moment...making it possible to relive that moment over and over again, as many times as one wanted...it was meaningful in a way Ru couldn’t quite put into words. 

And so over the years, the eccentric, blunt kelpie -- never the best at expressing themselves in the way more upright, classy humans did -- captured as many memories as they could of the things they found most remarkable about the Wizarding World they’d entered. They sketched the rows upon rows of disgusting-looking ingredients in jars set up in the Potions classroom. They took pictures of the way the moon looked from the Astronomy Tower after a thunderstorm. They made animations of how Venomous Tentaculas and Mandrakes grew, compressing entire months into mere seconds. And, of course, over the years, Ru used their cinematograph, Aeroscope, and other cameras to film the humans who had become most important to them -- their best friend, Galen Stagg @cursebreakerfarrier​​; their fellow Ravenclaw and Galen’s eventual other half, Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-needs-coffee​; and their “keeper”-turned-muse-and-life partner, Estrid Soelberg @thatravenpuffwitch​​. 

One morning, however, in the 1930′s, Estrid returned to the cottage she shared with Ru from a trip to the market to find the entire place in disarray. A table had been overturned, Ru’s camera was knocked over on its side, and a drawer of photographs had been pulled out, its contents spread out all over the floor. Alarmed, Estrid rushed to find Ru -- when she did, she found them on the floor, in full kelpie form, looking very restless and distraught as they huffed and puffed through their nose and mouth. Estrid hurriedly rushed over and bent down, trying to help, but it soon became clear what the problem was.

Ru couldn’t change form. They couldn’t transform themselves out of their real appearance. ...They couldn’t turn into a human anymore. 

The realization overwhelmed Ru. As much as they always knew the day would come, it wasn’t any less devastating. They’d never have hands again. They’d never have legs or feet again. They’d never speak properly again. They’d never be able to take any more pictures, or make any more movies, or make improvements to their cameras, or draw any more sketches or animations. They’d never be able to visit Galen’s classroom anymore for his lectures. They’d never be able to exchange any more friendly swears with Siobhan over a game of Wizard’s Chess. ...They’d never be able to comfort Estrid again...never be able to stroke her hair and hold her until she stopped crying...never be able to play her film reels of her grandfather, or plant flowers in the garden with her, or dance with her in the rain...they’d never be able to tell her how much they loved her.

The kelpie’s eyes fell toward the ground, darkening, as they flooded with tears. Those tears streaked down their long face in cold, deafening silence. Estrid, who’d almost never seen Ru cry in all their time together, found herself struggling not to break down completely herself as she threw her arms around Ru’s snout and hugged them, resting her face in their overgrown seaweed mane. The two sat together on the floor for what felt like hours, crying and cuddling as best they could, Ru pressing their soft nose into Estrid’s cheek and the crook of her neck and Estrid kissing their nose and the top of their head. 

Estrid wrote to the Staggs to pass along the news. Galen pretty much dropped everything to be by his friend’s side -- the magizoologist had always had a particular talent for speaking to magical creatures, and it had never been more useful than in those final weeks of Ru’s life. It seemed that what upset Ru most out of everything was that they’d had a project they hadn’t been able to finish. It was an incomplete film reel they’d stored under their and Estrid’s bed for the last year, taking out and working on only whenever Estrid wasn’t home. 

Galen had made as if to go get it, but Ru had snatched his sleeve in their teeth and pulled him back so he couldn’t leave their side.

“Not yet,” they were clearly saying. “It’s not time. Please, not yet.”

Reluctantly Galen respected his friend’s wishes. 

Within a month of them being unable to change back into a human, Galen and Siobhan received the owl they’d been dreading. Ru had passed the previous night, Estrid by their side all the way up until the end. 

As per Ru’s wishes, their funeral service was very small. They were laid to rest beside the small pond behind their and Estrid’s cottage -- Galen knew that kelpies’ bodies tended to decompose quickly, leaving only the seaweed of their manes behind at the bottom of the seafloor. There wasn’t a dry eye during the modest ceremony.

On Galen’s prompting, Estrid went to their room and fetched Ru’s unfinished project from under their bed. Inside the box holding the film reel were hundreds, maybe thousands of old photographs and drawings, many of which Galen, Estrid, and Siobhan had never seen. Some featured Hogwarts, from different angles; some were of the places they’d been to, or the creatures they handled, or the food they ate, or just cool and random things they only half-remembered. Most of all, though, the pictures were of them...and a small fraction, toward the very front, were of Ru themselves. 

It was incredible, just looking through the pictures. Forty years of memories were compiled together, documenting not just the changes in those years, but the advancement in Ru’s talent as an artist. The newest pictures were so much clearer and more life-like -- the magical ones moved with such clarity -- the drawings were more refined -- the animations more complex. The pictures placed side-by-side were an animation unto themselves: a beautiful montage of time, like a blooming flower. 

Siobhan was the one who knew Ru’s equipment well enough to work out how to set up the projector so they could play the incomplete film reel. The beginning featured Ru as the three remembered them -- very long, wavy black hair, bright blue angled eyes, and diamond earrings, dressed in a dark violet velvet suit and vest with no collared shirt underneath and a gold and emerald necklace around their neck. They were smirking right at the camera, but it seemed to be a bit strained. 

“Hi, Estrid. Galen...Siobhan...reckon you’re both here too. You are the only one who could ever figure out how to work the projector, Sha.”

They cleared their throat, snorting through their nose before continuing. 

“...I’ve...recorded this a few times already, trying to get it right, but...well, I’ll just be straight. This morning...I had trouble creating my daddles.”

They held up their right hand and flourished the fingers in explanation. 

“I woke up with hooves and it took me about a minute to conjure up my fingers. I didn’t tell you, Estrid, since I knew it’d only make you worry, but...well, I know I’ll only be doing more of that, soon.”

They forced a stronger smirk.

“So I decided to make this for you. It’s a compilation of our lives...one that you can hopefully play, when you need to remember. When you need to get away from the present, and run back to the past for a bit. Watch it every time you feel the urge to drink -- and then push away that urge.”

The moving image of Ru was replaced with the pictures, movies, drawings, and animations the three had seen in the box, overlaying Ru’s voice as they continued.

“When I first started disguising myself as Rudolph Ollivander, all I cared about was living in the moment. But the thing I found so amazing about being human was this instinct you all have to try to make moments last long after they’re over. Considering how long you all live, and therefore how short my existence is in comparison, I loved the thought of making something last. Something I made last. I wanted to plant some seed that would grow into something that would keep growing long after me. But it didn’t take me long to realize that even if I took great photographs, or made beautiful films, or made the best magical camera in the world...it didn’t matter. Because I didn’t have a family who would tend to my garden, after I left it. I didn’t have a family who would keep the things I’d made, and pass them on, and share them with the world. ...I didn’t have a family who would pass on my legacy. After Hogwarts, it’d be a lot harder to hide what I was from the world...and once everyone knew the truth, I would undoubtedly be alone again. It was something I knew was inevitable, really, so it didn’t break me or anything...but me leaving something lasting behind was still a dream I knew would never come true. And I won’t lie, that hurt like shit.

“But then, somehow...somehow or another, I ran into you, Estrid. I was steamed as all get-out when we first met, mind you...but I don’t think I’ll ever be more grateful for anything than you stopping me from eating that first year that day. The bridle you put on me? I hated it. I had to stay in one form for almost eight whole years, and that was a real pain in the arse. But as I told you before, over time, I found I didn’t mind so much. Kelpies don’t stay in one form because changing forms helps us survive. It keeps us safe and keeps any other creatures from getting close enough to eat or trap us. And sure, I couldn’t change form...but I wasn’t exactly trapped. Hogwarts was a fun place to be. There was a lot to learn and do and get into, and there were all sorts of rules to buck and dozens of lick-spittles to give a good arse-kicking to. And better still...there were even some humans that were fun to be around.”

The pictures all started to reflect Galen -- at the piano, with a tree of bowtruckles, laughing at a joke -- Galen and Ru running down the lane away from the Shrieking Shack --

“There were ones who were gentle. Pacifistic and wussy, yeah, but also...well, kind. Good at expressing their feelings and making others feel stronger. Good at being brave without being loud or obnoxious. Good at being a friend, to someone who didn’t know anything about friendship.”

The pictures then started to add Siobhan, often alongside Galen, but also on her own, or even with Estrid and Ru.

“There were ones who were clever. Too proud for their own good and prone to overthinking things that are really quite simple...but brilliant, and witty, and a blast to be around. Someone who you can share your interests with and know they appreciate them.”

The pictures then shifted over to Estrid with braids in her hair -- Estrid sitting by the pond in their garden -- Estrid dancing -- 

“And...there were ones who could change you...more than you ever thought possible.”

The pictures abruptly cut off -- Ru’s face returned to the projector. They were still talking to the camera, but it was clear they hadn’t intended for their face to be seen, as they weren’t looking straight at the lens anymore. 

“A ‘keeper,’ who became a friend, and then a muse...and then something more. An equal and a partner...someone who makes you unafraid of the future and how fleeting life is, who actually makes you think that your life makes a difference. Who teaches you more than any book, without even trying. Someone patient, and brave, and compassionate...who never tries to stuff the silence full of worthless words...whose beauty masks a greater one underneath, one that few people ever are fortunate enough to see...”

Ru’s eyes on screen had begun to flood with tears. They closed their eyes and breathed in and out through their nose to try to get a rein on their emotions.

“...Estrid...my whole life, I wanted to leave something behind that would outlive me. That thing isn’t just my pictures, or my films, or my drawings -- it’s you. You are my legacy. You and Galen and Siobhan...you are the wonderful thing I’ll leave behind. It breaks my heart that I’ll have to...and it breaks my heart more, knowing I can’t make sure you all remain as you are, in this moment. Healthy. Successful. Stupid and happy and full of life.”

They forced a smile even as their electric blue eyes overflowed with tears that streaked down their face. 

“I don’t have a family to make sure you all last beyond me...but I do have you. So, for me...I need you to tend to my garden. I need you to maintain my legacy -- by maintaining yourself. I need you to live, and heal, and grow, and do everything I can’t do...”

Ru was unable to keep themselves from breaking down into sobs. They bowed their head, clutching onto their own hair as they vainly tried to keep their voice steady. 

“Don’t throw your time away. Don’t throw your lives away. If you do, I’ll never bloody forgive you!”

For the next minute they took a few stabilizing breaths, sucking in air shakily through their nose and mouth. 

“Damn it...” they hissed under their breath. “Now I have to cut this...”

They swallowed, wiping the tears from their eyes with both hands. The tears left tracks on their face even as they forced themselves to return their focus to the camera. 

“...Make every moment count...and when you can, make that moment last forever.

“I realized, when I was looking through my old pictures, that I’ve never really taken many pictures of me. I guess in the moment, I really was a lot more focused on capturing everything I saw, rather than myself. So here are some pictures I took more recently that have me in them. Hopefully you can use them to imagine me behind every picture I took earlier, of all of you. Even though I probably wasn’t smiling or anything...I’m sure you know I was enjoying myself, right? ...I did enjoy myself a lot, with all of you...”

They forced another smile, even though the tears on their face still shone in the light from the next room.

“I remember you once said, Galen, that you could see the love in the pictures I take. I still don’t really know what the hell that’s supposed to mean...but I reckon you bringing up love made some sense. I did love taking those pictures, every one of them -- and more than that...I learned about love, through the people in those pictures. So thank you. Thank you for loving me...and for teaching me so much. And even when this film reel’s obsolete, and my pictures are ruined, and my drawings fade...don’t stop doing things that are worth remembering. Keep making more memories. I know I’ll never forget you -- all you have to do now is make sure the rest of the world won’t either.

“So live. Live, and learn, and love. Make today last forever.” 

When Ru’s film reel finally ended and faded to black, Galen, Siobhan, and Estrid were all in tears. Galen was clinging to his wife, his face buried in her hair and his hands clutching at the back of her dress as he sobbed. Siobhan herself had her eyes shut tight as she held Galen in return, unable to contain her own grief. Estrid was holding herself, tears streaming from her hazel eyes still staring at the blank projector screen where Ru had been smiling moments earlier. She closed her eyes, her hands covering her face as she cried silently. 

The grief in the room was overwhelming, and yet Ru’s final unfinished present tapped into something at the base of the grief -- the deep, bottomless love they all felt. For as blunt and stubborn as Ru could be, the depth of their feelings was undeniable. They didn’t want their loved ones to despair -- they wanted them to remember, yes, but not languish in the memories...to live with an eye on the past and feet walking toward the future. Ru knew the grief Estrid had gone through when she’d lost her grandfather, and had tried so hard to give her something to help her through her grief again even when they weren’t there to physically support her.

And so over the years, Siobhan, Galen, and Estrid maintained Ru’s legacy. The three lived their lives to the fullest and worked to make sure that no one forgot about all of the advancements Ru had made in the world of wizarding photography. Galen used Ru’s old film reels of magical creatures in his classes; Siobhan took even more pictures of her own; and Estrid fought to ensure Ru’s work was put up in wizarding museums and exhibitions all over Europe, as a testament to her partner’s talent and dedication. 

A man has no control who lives, who dies, and who tells their story...but the ones who they love in life, and who inspire them in death, are the most precious legacy they can leave behind.