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thran-duils · 3 years

Text

Sex and Candy

Title: Sex and Candy Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Dean (S15), Fem!Reader x AU!Castiel. Based on the alternate universe presented to us in Season 15 with the trust fund versions of Dean and Sam. The reader is married to Dean but is forced to face Castiel again, a past flame from her time at the hunter academy. After a fight with Dean, she finds herself asking Castiel to join her at a hotel, unable to let go of the past. Words: 3,818 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Angst, infidelity, smut Author’s Note: This was purposely left the way it was for you guys to make your own conclusions about what happens! ;)

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I smell sex and candy here, mmm Who's that lounging in my chair? Mmm Who's that casting devious stares in my direction? Momma this surely is a dream, yeah Yeah, momma this surely is a dream, dig it --Marcy’s Playground, Sex & Candy

Dean’s hand was at your lower back, guiding you through the door. Headquarters were fairly quiet, which was out of the ordinary. Many of the hunters in the area were not around having been dealt with an influx of monsters somehow escaping purgatory. Word was it had something to do with two rogue hunters who had messed around with some extremely powerful supernatural artifact and it had caused a rift in between the two worlds. You detested hunters who had not been given formal training through the academy and kept within the reins of John, your father in law’s, circle. They made your jobs all the more difficult more often than not.

The two of you stepped into the elevator, nodding in greeting at the guard standing nearby.

Once the doors closed, Dean told you, “Dad’s in a bad mood.”

“Oh?” you asked, barely feigning a tone of interest. You adjusted the silver Tiffany’s bracelet on your wrist, thinking to yourself that this was not news; John was usually not in a good mood. He was overbearing to say the least. It had taken everything in Dean to tell him he wanted to move out of the house with you. Luckily for you, John had a soft spot for you due to your hunting skills and had not put up much of a fuss. You had held back a scowl though when he had chirped that at least Dean had a homemaker to take care of him. You did not have to clean up after him, thankfully, considering the staff at your home. You loved Dean, there was no doubt, but his less desirable traits – being dependent and needing to be coddled at times – left you with a sour taste in your mouth more and more often.

Pulling at his collar to straighten it out, Dean sighed, “Yes. Apparently, he’s found out who the hunters are and wants to do something about them.” Your gaze slid to him and by the look on your face, Dean held up his hands, his gold cuff links catching the light. “Sammy refused.”

“Sam always refuses things like this.” Sighing, your fingers dug into your clutch. “He has got to stop punishing you sometime for moving out. He needs to start doing some of the dirty work.”

“I hardly think searching them out to ask them what the heck went wrong is dirty work, Y/N.”

The elevator door opened, and you closed your mouth, not wanting to continue this discussion outside the privacy of it.

You cut in front of Dean, your annoyance apparent. You heard him sigh heavily behind you, but you did not care, making your way down the hall towards John’s office.

Knowing better than to just enter, you knocked on the door and heard John beckon you in. Swinging the door open, you felt Dean at your back as you entered the room.

John was sitting behind his intricately carved desk that he had had imported in. Papers were stacked neatly, him working on one thing at a time. He was adamant about keeping his desk clean and to do so, he would not be rushed. One of the other board members for the academy, Arthur, was sitting opposite John.

Taking his glasses off, John moved to put his pen back in its holder. He gestured at the empty chair beside you, and you sat, keeping your back straight. Arthur was watching you out of the corner of his eye and you stiffened even further. He had been particularly hard on you as one of your mentors in school and you had not forgotten.

“You look upset, Y/N,” John commented.

You waved him off and said, “I am just impatient about learning who caused this latest mishap. And what is going to be done about it.”

“Impatience has always been a fault of yours,” Arthur commented, and you bit back a comment as John continued, “Well, it turns out it was two of the academy’s.”

“Are you joking?” Dean blurted from behind you where he was standing.

John shot him a look and Dean closed his mouth. “That is not something I would joke about, Dean. It was a major, major bungle. Yes, it was two that should know better, but I am not surprised at the same time. Novak and Crowley.”

His eyes were on you as he revealed this and unable to stop yourself, you closed your eyes, letting out a small sigh. Of course, it was. And no wonder Sam would turn this down as he knew yours and Castiel’s history; anything to put Dean and you in an uncomfortable position.

A small smirk on his lips, John told you specifically, “I thought it would be best to send you. And of course, Dean would go as well. You two are partners.”

“Naturally,” you responded tightly.

This was the last thing you wanted to do with your time. Being in Castiel’s presence never ended up being dressed in the past. Circumstances were different now and you were going to have to try to break that trend. You were already on edge and this was not going to help you to keep your composure seeing the smug look on his face.

<> <> <>

“Why am I not surprised they would be in a place like this?” Dean asked as the two of you ascended the short staircase to the bar.

It was a rowdy place, placed in an urban center.

“They are the dive bar type,” you told him, speaking louder as the swell of the music met you at the door. You held out your ID for the bouncer and he quickly waved you through, not even bothering to look at Dean’s considering he saw what your last name was already. Winchester got you into many places and underground establishments without the bat of an eye.

It did not take you long to locate them inside. They were waiting to play the next game of pool; Castiel was leaning back in his chair, legs propped up on the table, drink in hand. Crowley was next to him, dressed in crisp black as usual. Castiel’s hair was loose, his beard growing to a 5 o’clock shadow.

Crowley spotted you and Dean first. He nudged Castiel and said something to him as the two of you approached the table. Castiel turned his head and a smirk grew on his face seeing you, chuckling as he looked back down at his drink. He brought the pint to his lips and took a long swig.

“We need to talk,” you told them over the music, standing beside Castiel, glaring down at the pair of them.

“John Winchester sent his lap dogs instead of coming himself?” Crowley asked, giving you a scornful look.

Your mouth fell open slightly and before you could retort something nasty, Dean stepped forward. “It would be appreciated if the two of you could cooperate. It would make things so much easier. It’s not just my father; it’s the whole board.”

Castiel cleared his throat, moving to drop his feet off the table. “I suppose we are about to get our asses handed to us based on the demeanor here.”

“You’re damn right,” you spat.

“Oh, language,” Dean told you over his shoulder and you did not miss the smirk on both Castiel and Crowley’s faces. “No need to stoop to their level, Y/N.”

Castiel gestured across the table. “Sit.”

Dean looked apprehensive about sitting on the chair, no doubt worrying about his pressed slacks. You on the other hand, did not care in the slightest. You sat down, placing your wallet on the table between you and Dean. Castiel’s eyes were following your movements and you shot him a vexed look and clenched your jaw when he winked in return. It went missed by Dean as usual, him being too absorbed in keeping himself clean.

“So, what does the old man want to say?” Crowley asked, swirling the whiskey in his glass slowly. He was not going to let his disdain for John go.

Clearing his throat, Dean said ignoring the jab – or perhaps it went over his head, which was more likely –, “He wants to know what happened, why it happened, and how you propose to fix it.”

“Well, that is a lot of information and could take some time –”

“Give us the short version,” you snapped, interrupting him.

Crowley cocked his head, drawling, “You’re as charming as ever, Y/N.” You said nothing in response. “Fine. We were trying to send a monster back to purgatory –”

“What?” Dean demanded at the same time you blurted, “Why?”

“Well, if you would let me explain myself,” Crowley said tightly, narrowing his eyes. “We wanted to see if it could be done. Why continue wasting resources killing the monsters when we could just open a rift and send them to purgatory?”

“And you decided to do this without, I don’t know, discussing this with anyone else? Or asking for help?” you asked.

“Didn’t think any of you tight asses would be up to it.”

“And for good reason!”

Holding his hand up at you, Crowley said, “That is exactly why we didn’t ask for help. We researched it on our own, found the artifact we needed, and preformed the ritual ourselves. It did not go as we planned but we did do it. We opened a rift. Now, if we could perfect it –”

Dean cut in, holding up his hand, “Yeah, that’s not going to be happening. The Board wants you to turn over whatever artifact you used so we can keep it hidden to prevent this from happening again."

Crowley and Castiel exchanged a quick look, an entire conversation happening in a matter of moments between the two of them.

“And if we don’t hand it over?” Castiel questioned, coyly.

You exhaled impatiently as Dean scoffed, “You can’t be serious to want to defy the Board.”

“If we give it up to them, they’ll never pursue the idea.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

“But they’ll take our hard work and claim the credit for themselves if it ends up being perfected.”

“That’s the point of the Board and the academy. It is to keep all of our collective research in one centralized place so everyone has access to it.”

Crowley cut into their conversation angrily, “That is exactly why I hated attending that bloody academy. The stuffed up, old pricks—” Dean flinched at the insult. “--there want to keep everything to themselves while the rest of us do the groundwork for them.” Castiel nodded in agreement, taking a drink of his beer.

Dean looked at you for support and you leaned forward, catching both of the men’s attention across the table. “Look. You know there’s two ways this is playing out. You agree to hand it over or we go back and tell the Board they’ve got two hunters they need to get information out of.”

“You mean, you two won’t be the ones shaking us down?” Castiel quipped, a playful glint in his eyes.

You were tired of him flirting, pushing your buttons that he knew how to press all too well.

Annoyed, you retorted, “They’re not sending Dean and I to get our hands dirty by forcing information out of you two. We are here as liaisons.”

“No. No, I suppose they wouldn’t be sending the pair of you,” Crowley said. “You haven’t done hard work in years. That’s for the grunts, isn’t it?”

You had had enough. Pushing the chair back with a loud squeak, you stood up quickly, grabbing your wallet. “I’m finished with this conversation. Dean, if you would like to continue trying to reason with these idiots, I’ll be in the car.”

It annoyed you even further to see Dean quickly get up to follow you. Part of you hoped he would have had the backbone to continue trying to coerce them, but then again, he seemed to always be following your lead.

“No, I see a lost cause when I see one,” Dean said, standing close to you.

You tore your eyes away from him to look at Crowley and Castiel once more. Castiel was taking a swig, his eyes running up your body and you had the urge to smack the glass out of his hands, spilling the contents all over him. You gave a disgusted scoff before turning and storming away from the table. Hearing Crowley crow after you to have a good night made your blood boil even more.

<> <> <>

Dean walked out of the bathroom in your bedroom in the suite, robe wrapped tightly around him. He was brushing his teeth while searching for his slippers. He found them and disappeared back into the bathroom. He had not wanted to go back home tonight, opting to pay for a luxurious room for the two of you to lounge in. You were not relaxing though, still infuriated with the salacious way Castiel had kept looking at you. It had set you aflame to feel those same lustful feelings when you had seen him. The man rubbed you completely the wrong way and yet, you still yearned to turn those feelings of annoyance into passion.

“Well, we tried,” Dean told you, emerging once more.

Rolling your eyes, you said, “Not hard enough. They should not feel the right to refuse a request like this.”

“I don’t know what you thought we could do more.”

He was so ready to give up. Dean typically gave up at the first signs of difficulty and passed the buck to someone else to handle. You had been okay enough with it at first with your brazen personality you had no problem picking up tough situations and making sure they got solved. But tonight, after seeing Castiel, the stress and annoyance was boiling over.

“Are you fucking serious, Dean?” You demanded. His mouth fell open at your cursing and you said, “Oh, come off it! Are you serious? We could have done it ourselves. We could have brought them in. You know I would have been able to get them in cuffs myself.”

“Y/N, that would not have worked. Two on two? And you would have caused a scene in the bar. There’s no reason to get police involved.”

Snapping, you shouted, “Dean, can you just for once do…” You caught yourself, closing your eyes. You had been about to lose your temper and say something you were going to regret. Breathing deeply, you tried to push the anger back below the surface. You needed air; you needed some release. Turning and snatching your purse, you searched for your shoes. “Never mind.”

“Can I do what?” Dean pressed when he recovered from your outburst as you made to go grab your jacket.

“It’s not worth it,” you dismissed him.

Dean stepped closer, concern laced in his features. “Apparently it is if you’re this upset.”

“This is what I’m talking about,” you said exasperated, gesturing at him. “You should be mad at me for being mad at you and yelling.”

“Why would I do that?”

Letting out a small growl, you turned and stormed towards the door.

“Where are you going?” He called after you, worried.

“Out!”

‘It’s late, Y/N!”

“Don’t wait up for me then.”

<> <> <>

Lying on the bed naked, you waited, flipping through your phone. You had gone down the street, paying for a room at a far less extravagant hotel in cash. No paper trail was going to be left for John to find.

When you heard the key at the door – you had asked the front desk to hold one for pick up – you lowered your phone. The door opened and Castiel walked in.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he snapped seeing you and rushing to close the door and lock it behind him.

You ignored his outburst, leaning over and placing your phone on the bedside table. “Figured you would have slowed down on the drinking after seeing me. I like being right.”

“History does have a way of informing my decisions,” Castiel replied, taking a few steps further into the room. He was looking at your bare skin, eyes lingering. You made a hum of approval, lying back on the bed, legs crossed, giving a shielded view of your pussy. Castiel tore his eyes away and asked, “Is this a trap?”

Smiling coyly, you asked, “Do you want to risk the opportunity to find out?”

“I suppose not.” He removed his jacket, tossing it on the chair next to the desk. His fingers hooked into the hem of his shirt and he pulled it over his head. He was not going to waste time giving you the opportunity to change your mind about all this.

“Come here,” you ordered him, sitting up and getting onto your knees at the edge of the bed.

You undid his belt and his pants, allowing him to shimmy to let them fall to the ground. His boxers went next and he pushed you back onto the bed, crawling on top of you.

“You got a condom?” he breathed into your ear, letting out a low groan when your hand found his cock.

Stroking, you whispered back, “No.”

“No?”

“Did I stutter? You’re safe, right?”

“That’s romantic—” Castiel started to say but your hand cupped his balls and he groaned again. “Yes. Yes. I got tested a couple weeks ago, actually.”

“How fortuitous,” you answered, stroking him again. You were rewarded with a throaty chuckle from him and his lips landing on yours. He drug his lips across yours, relishing in the taste.

Castiel growled, losing patience. He pushed your hand away and lined himself up with your entrance. He slid in, slamming his mouth to yours as you opened up for him. His composure was slipping feeling your tightness around him as he began thrusting in and out. You knew he was not this crazy for anyone else. You kissed him back with fervor, falling into the familiar rhythm; you had not felt him like this in over a year. The last had been shortly after you and Dean had gotten married and you had held out for this long by avoiding him up until tonight.

“I missed you,” you gasped, dragging your lips along his jaw before coming back to nip at his lip.

His tongue slipped past your lips and you moved to wrap your arms around his neck as he continued to steadily move in and out, you dripping around him.

You pushed him away and he looked at you momentarily confused. You began to shift position, and he followed your motion, pulling out to let you guide him. Climbing on top of him, you slid down his length. You rode him, each dive pushing him deeper until he bottomed out. Increasing your speed, your hands planted on his chest, moans leaving your throat. Praises fell from Castiel, his fingers digging into your sides.

“You look so fucking sexy, baby,” he grunted, his eyes following your tits bouncing.

You were close and you let go of him to put your hands on the headboard. Gripping tightly, you used it as leverage to quicken your pace, crying out as his cock brushed your core.

“Cum for me,” Castiel said. “Come on, baby, I wanna feel it.”

You cried out, losing your rhythm. Castiel took the opportunity to hold you in place tighter, continuing to plummet into you as you saw stars. You barely registered feeling Castiel fill you up, his fingers bruising with his grip.

Collapsing on the bed next to him, you breathed deeply, trying to calm yourself.

Silence fell between the two of you, both staring at the ceiling. It was becoming too much, being this close to him. You had messed up yet again. You knew the moment John told you who you were going to go after that you would, but you had tried so desperately to lie to yourself about the inevitable outcome. You needed some space or something to drink to make yourself relax.

Clearing your throat, you asked, “You want a drink? I bought a bottle.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed and got out, walking over to the mini fridge. You pulled out the bottle of whiskey, placing it on the counter to be able to reach over and grab two of the Styrofoam provided cups. He had not answered but you were pouring him one all the same.

You tossed a look over your shoulder at Castiel. He was propped up on his elbow, looking at you with longing.

“What?” you asked lightly, although your heart was pounding. You knew that look.

“I still love you, you know.”

The admission made you falter, as you put the cap back on the bottle. Recovering, you quickly screwed the lid back on and put the bottle back in the fridge, grabbing one of the cans of pop to split it between the cups. You tossed the can into the recycling bin.

“I’m fully aware, Cas,” you finally said shortly.

You heard him chuckle behind you. “You were always terrible with affection, Y/N.”

Now you turned to him, shooting him a glare. “Like you’re the poster child for it.”

“Touché.”

Swallowing sharply, you threw your hand out. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Cas.”

“You almost told me earlier. You said you missed me.”

“Well… I do.”

Castiel sighed, “But you can’t just come out and say it.”

Scoffing, you said, “Cas, I’m married.” It was his turn to scoff, and he swept his arm around at the messed-up sheets and the scene between you. “You know what I mean.”

“No. I don’t. Explain yourself.”

“I love Dean,” you snapped, and his mouth formed a tight line. You knew he hated hearing that, despite the fact it was the truth.

“You can love more than one person at a time, Y/N.”

Shaking your head, you told him defiantly, “No. No I can’t. Not for my own sanity.”

“You reached out to me. You cut me out and then the moment you saw me again, all that resolve you tried to have disappeared almost instantly. You know there’s a reason for that.”

Opening your mouth, you closed it again, at loss for words. He was staring at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

He was right and it cut deep knowing he was right. You had feelings for them both and it was for different reasons. Dean would never be Cas and Cas would never be Dean. Why could you not have them both? It was not possible, but you wanted it. So badly.

Raising your gaze again, you met his burning stare. “Fine,” you whispered. “Fine, Castiel. I do love you too.”

“Then do something about it.”

~~~

CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas

#castiel x reader #au!castiel fic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #au!dean #au!dean x reader #my shit

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here4theheartbreak · 4 years

Text

Found My Place Ch 2: Give Us a Try

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: main YoonJin, side VMin (mentioned) Rating: Explicit

Genres: angst, smut Tags (for entire fic): idol AU (canonverse), transgender character, transgender Seokjin, FTM Seokjin, transphobia, pre-debut, misgendering, bisexual Yoongi, supportive Yoongi, discussion of gender confirming surgeries and HRT, virgin Seokjin, sex anxiety, first time, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, generic and scientific terms for female bodied genitals, squirting, barebacking, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, angst with a happy ending

Summary: Jin has a secret that could ruin BTS before they even had a chance to debut. To make matters worse (and better) Yoongi is determined to pursue him to the ends of the earth. Is balancing his secrets and his life possible, or will it all come toppling down around him?

Chapter Word Count: ~3.2k

Jin’s heart thudded a million miles an hour as he rode to the airport alone. He’d been with his members so much in the past year, the idea of going anywhere alone was horrifying. Yoongi had tried to come along, but the manager refused. Instead, he was up texting Jin rapid fire, telling him jokes and complaining about the other members. It felt good, if Jin was being honest. Despite the weight of his secret, Yoongi hadn’t changed a single action that previous night. Just as rough and boyish, not bothering to do more than laugh when the maknaes ganged up on Jin to beat him to pieces before bed, nothing. He did make a gentle point to quietly tell Jin when the bathroom was free, so he could shower in peace, but nothing more. Maybe Yoongi wouldn’t change.

On the plane ride, Jin allowed himself to daydream about what it would be like to date Yoongi. He was so quiet and up in his head, but he opened up to Jin. Would that stay the same? How would it feel to cuddle with him in a shared bed? To spend hours kissing his soft lips and holding his callused hands? Maybe even losing his virginity… Jin tried his best to push that thought away; the fear of anyone seeing him naked had always been too great to even consider opening up to someone in that way. Yoongi would find out his other secrets, things he liked that he shouldn’t, he would see him fully nude and have his body there for judgement. The thought was a nightmare. He knew if Yoongi and he did start dating he’d be expected to give it up at some point, but he didn’t know even how to begin broaching the subject.

Yoongi continued to text when Jin got off the plane, sending short clips of the other members playing or dancing, Jungkook struggling with his homework as Namjoon scolded him, Jimin and Taehyung sneaking kisses behind the couch when they were supposed to be cleaning. And Yoongi himself, working on music or just sitting, short messages of support in whispered tones. And he ended them all the same way. Hyung. Be safe, hyung; Come back soon, hyung; We miss you, hyung. It was a tiny show of support, Jin knew. If only Yoongi knew how much it meant to him.

The doctor was kind enough and the surgery was scheduled to start early the following morning. Jin was placed in a nice hotel room, where he called Yoongi to chat as soon as he was able.

“Are you scared?” Yoongi finally asked.

“Yeah. The doctor says it’s nothing to worry about but I’m terrified. I keep thinking of all the things that could go wrong.”

“Think of the good stuff. When he fixes your chest, you’ll never have to wear those uncomfortable under shirt things. Seeing you in that made my ribs hurt, I can’t imagine wearing it for dancing too.”

“It sucks,” Jin admitted, chuckling. “I wish you could have come.”

“Me too. You don’t deserve to go through this alone. I’ve been… Doing some research.”

“Research?”

“On trans people. I want to learn about you. And how to be supportive. I read a lot about top surgery and the different things you have to do to keep yourself looking this way. The shots and… Stuff.”

Jin chuckled. “Yep, every week.”

“I learned a lot. I hope it comes in handy. I want you to feel like I support you. Because I do. More than anything. I just want you happy. And healthy.”

Jin’s heart clenched tightly at Yoongi’s words. “Thank you… It does mean a lot.”

“I have to go meet the others… Text me, okay? If not tonight, when you get to the hospital tomorrow. And right away when you wake up, I don’t care if it’s just keysmash because you’re high. I need to know you’re okay, okay?”

Jin laughed. “I will. Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“Goodnight, hyung… The dorm’s lonely without you.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting.”

“Tell the others I said hi.”

“Of course. Chat soon.” Yoongi hung up, and Jin flopped back onto his bed, sighing softly as he stared at the ceiling.

Jin obeyed Yoongi’s wishes, texting right before – and immediately after the surgery. And the texts continued. He remained in Japan his entire healing process, working with various doctors and therapists to get his movement back as quickly as was safe. The entire time he was there, Yoongi called and texted at least once per day. The other members joined in at times, sending texts or calling to check in, but Yoongi was the one that kept the steady influx of calls.

Jin struggled at times, feeling like he’d never get back to the top of his game, feeling like maybe surgery was a bad idea, it could injure the group. Yoongi was right there, listening to him cry and speaking in soothing tones, reminding him of how good he probably looked, how handsome he was, and how much they all missed him and would help him.

Each night Yoongi called Jin before bed, his heart filled that much more. He was falling so madly in love with Yoongi, and he knew he was too far gone to avoid the subject any more. Three and a half weeks of separation, and he was finally given the green light to return to Korea and begin his work again.

The morning of his return, Jin didn’t text Yoongi. It felt foreign, and bad. He knew he’d worry him, but it would be worth it. He wanted to sleep on the flight, but was full of nervous energy. He didn’t know if what he was doing was a good thing, or even close to what Yoongi really wanted, but he had to try.

He arrived back at the empty dorm shortly before the others were due to be home. There were a handful of texts from Yoongi, getting slightly worried as the time passed. Jin forced himself to ignore them, waiting in the small living room for their group.

Time slowed to a crawl as he waited. What if they were going out tonight? What if practice was late? What if Yoongi was angry with him for his attempt at a surprise? Anxiety chewed a hole in Jin’s stomach.

Finally, the door opened and the members poured in, just as loud and rambunctious as they’d been what felt like forever ago. It took them all a moment to notice the person sitting in their living room, but as soon as they did, they lunged, all talking at once, asking how he was, where he’d been, if he was okay. Jin gave happy, vague answers, his eyes seeking out Yoongi.

‘Surprise,’ he mouthed as Jungkook hugged him almost painfully tight. Yoongi was trying his best to look angry, but couldn’t hide his smile. Jin pried himself from the arms of the maknaes, rising and going toward Yoongi.

“You and I need to talk. Privately.”

Yoongi nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” Jin called to the group, who ‘oohed’ at them as they headed toward the bedroom. Jin shut the door and leaned on it.

“How are you?” Yoongi asked.

“Great. Pretty much all healed. Just some ointment to make the scars fade. But that’s not why I dragged you in here.”

“Oh?”

Jin took a deep breath, straightening up. “I told you before my surgery I needed time to think. About us.”

Yoongi nodded.

“Well, I had a lot of time to think while I was recovering.”

“Oh… And?”

Jin swallowed hard. He closed the gap between them and grabbed Yoongi’s cheeks. He pressed their mouths together before he had a chance to change his mind. Yoongi gasped, grabbing his upper arms. He didn’t pull away though. Instead he pulled Jin closer, his body relaxing. He walked them toward the wall, bumping them against it. Jin laughed softly, wrapping his arms around Yoongi’s shoulders as he slid his tongue over Yoongi’s bottom lip. The kiss deepened naturally, and Jin found himself pressed between the wall and Yoongi’s body, Yoongi’s lips and teeth biting a painfully pleasurable mark on his shoulder.

Yoongi pulled back when he seemed to be satisfied with the mark, meeting Jin’s gaze. “I take that as a yes then… To my offer before you left.”

Jin laughed breathlessly. “Yeah. It’s a yes. I wanna date you.”

“Let me take you out tonight. The others won’t mind.”

Jin laughed, stroking Yoongi’s cheek. “It’s my first night back. Let me spend it with all of you guys. You and I can go out tomorrow night. Deal?”

“I suppose one more night of waiting is okay,” Yoongi lamented. He kissed Jin once more. “Can I keep doing this?” He whispered against his mouth.

“I never want you to stop that.”

Yoongi pulled back then and stepped back, holding Jin’s broad shoulders. “So your chest! Your surgery. Let me see?”

“The scars are still healing – I need to put cream on them a few times a day.”

“I don’t care. Do you love it?”

“I really do,” Jin admitted softly. He stripped out of his shirt, his cheeks heating up. Nobody but his doctors and nurses had seen his chest yet. His arms raised instinctively, but Yoongi grabbed his hands, forcing them down as his eyes roamed over Jin’s body.

“You’re so handsome. I love it. It looks perfect. Does it hurt still? Can I—” Yoongi held up his hand.

“It doesn’t hurt. It’s sensitive, around the scars and the nipple area… I never really had a sensitive chest before so it’s taking some getting used to but… You can.”

Yoongi touched Jin’s shoulder first, sliding his hand down slowly, almost tenderly, over his chest. Jin’s eyes fluttered shut when he brushed over his nipple, biting his bottom lip. Yoongi traced the scars with a delicate finger, then dropped down to Jin’s belly button before letting his hand fall.

“It’s perfect you, hyung. You look so masculine.”

Jin grinned sheepishly, his face warming at the praise. “I wonder if the others will ask… Now that I can show my chest…”

“I’d ease them into it. They’ll ask more questions if you suddenly start walking around shirtless. Maybe a day or two here or there. You could… Shower with me, if you wanted to… Especially now that we’re dating.”

Jin felt his heart skip a beat at that.

“That requires being fully naked.”

“Usually.” Yoongi paused. “Oh… Right, your bottom half… You know I don’t care, right?”

“I know. It just feels… Wrong.”

“I get it. I won’t push you.”

Jin’s shoulders sagged a little, guilt beginning to eat at him already. “It’s not fair to you.”

“What isn’t?”

“You’re a perfectly normal, healthy guy. You have needs. And my anxiety won’t let me fulfill those needs.”

“Well, one, my hands both work great. Two, I don’t expect you to just jump into bed with me now that you’ve agreed to dating me. I’d want to build up to that. Even if you had a dick. And three, I know what I’m getting into. I’m more than happy to wait, and move at your pace. I want to be happy with you – that means your happiness too. I’ll follow your lead in this, Jin-hyung. I’ve not dated a trans person before, so I know it will be different. I won’t push you – You just tell me when you’re ready.”

“You won’t resent me?” Jin worried, his voice timid.

Yoongi pressed against him and kissed him once more. “Are you kidding? I’m dating the most handsome member of Bangtan. I could never.”

Jin pushed him playfully, rolling his eyes. Yoongi grabbed his hand. “I mean it. I want to make you happy.”

“You will. You already do, just being the way you are. Your support these past few weeks… It was all that got me through some days. The other members helped but you… Knowing the truth, sticking by my side even virtually – I’m so thankful.”

Yoongi nodded. “You deserved support. You needed it. I’m glad I could help.”

Jin stepped forward, holding his jaw to kiss him gently once more.

“Hyuuungs,” Jungkook whined, bursting through the door. “I’m hung—Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” He slammed the door shut just as Jin broke away from Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi laughed a little and Jin tugged his shirt back on, relieved his back was to the door.

“Well, guess that made telling the group easier.”

Jin chuckled. “Guess so. We should go do damage control.”

“Kiss me again.”

Jin obeyed without hesitation, pressing his lips gently to Yoongi’s. He opened the door then and walked back into the living room, where Jungkook sat with a tomato red face on the floor.

“So… Got something to tell us?” Namjoon asked, smirking.

“Yeah… About that,” Jin rubbed the back of his neck.

“Has it been going on long?” Jimin asked.

“No,” Yoongi stepped next to Jin. “We wouldn’t have hidden that. I asked him out a while back, but today he said yes.”

“But your shirt was off,” Jungkook argued. Jin bit his lip.

“I—” He sighed. “I was showing him a scar. I have something to confess.”

Yoongi grabbed Jin’s hand, looking at him quickly.

“The emergency trip was for surgery. For me.”

“Surgery?” Namjoon said. “What for?”

“To have a mass removed from my chest.”

Hoseok shot up, rushing over to Jin. “What? Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Because I didn’t want to scare any of you. It was entirely benign, they made sure. It was just unsightly and made my job difficult. So they removed it. But I have scars now. They’ll heal, but if I seem off on some moves, that’s why.”

“Jin-hyung, you should have told us,” Jimin said softly. “We would have supported you.”

“I didn’t want any of you off your game. In case it went bad—I needed you to think everything was fine and not panic. Yoongi knew, he kept me supported. And everything was fine. Just… If you see me shirtless now… Don’t be startled.”

“Is that why you didn’t go shirtless before?” Jungkook asked.

“Well, that and I’m shy, I guess. But that was a part of it. I’m not gonna start running around half naked or anything, but…”

“We get it,” Namjoon said. “I’m glad you’re okay.” The others murmured in agreement.

“Now we can go eat. I’m sorry I delayed us,” Jin said. As if on a special command, the others shot up, gathering their coats and shoes as they argued over where to eat. Yoongi looked up at Jin.

“That was brave.”

“I wanted some honesty,” Jin admitted.

“Maybe someday… The rest?”

Jin shrugged a little. “The contract…” “I know. But I’m just saying. If you do want to. I’ll stand by you. Just like I did today.” He squeezed Jin’s hand a little harder and kissed his jaw.

“I trust that you will, Yoongi… Come on, we should go before they drag us out.” Jin tugged Yoongi toward the door, following the others.

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cantgetoutofmyheda · 5 years

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Another Clexa Fic List That No One Asked For

EDIT: I’ve gotten some asks for a link to the first list, so you can find that HERE.

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I went on vacation overseas last week. Overseas trips = lots of reading time on airplanes. Wanted to share what I read in case anyone is looking for some Clexa AU goodies. Enjoy, y’all!

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There’s Still Time by @ebozay - Holy moly. I’m not sure if I have words for this one because it swiftly climbed up to one of my top favorite Clexa fics ever. The story is so well-written and @ebozay does a beautiful job of invoking so many emotions. Clarke and Lexa have known each other since they were kids and later on in life, they end up married and then Lexa ends up in a horrible accident. This one was a page turner FO SHO. It jumps from the past to present within chapters, to really help paint the picture of the kind of relationship the pair has. TBH, it made me feel like I was reading a Nicholas Sparks novel (in the best way possible). I also may have shed a tear or two. Read it if you haven’t, I already can’t wait to reread it.

I’ll Try My Best (How Much Do I Invest) by therestisconfetti - Let’s be real, I’m an absolute sucker for a Fake Dating AU. What I loved so much about this one was the mix of fluff and angst. Clarke wanted to win a bet, and in order to do so, she needed Lexa to attend Abby’s wedding as her date. As the story unravels, you realize that the pair really should be a couple (I mean, Clexa... duh). Great read if you’re into this trope!

Falcon by AnonBeMe - To be totally frank, I was a bit apprehensive about reading this because the summary mentioned an age gap between the two, and that’s something that’s hard for me to wrap my head around. HOWEVERRRRRRR, I’m very glad I embarked on the journey of reading this! Lexa and Clarke are next door neighbors and best friends (Lexa being 4 - 5 years older). Right before Lexa leaves for college, Clarke realizes she has feelings for her and Lexa turns her away. Fast forward 8 or so years and they reunite out of nowhere. Not gonna lie, this one is pretty angsty (I’m a sucker for angst). Definitely add it to your reading list if you haven’t read it already!

I Do Until I Don’t by @ecfandom - I discovered @ecfandom through their current work, Polis 433 (thank you @quesandgays for changing my reading life with this fic lol). I browsed around their ao3 page and decided to read this story and am very glad that I did. Again, this one is super angsty (yay!). Clexa are married with a child and experience some major matrimonial bumps and end up (sort of) breaking up. This story follows their struggles of their marriage breaking and the very hard road to recovery. I loved it and can’t wait to dive into more of their works!!!

Gold, red by AphroditesLaw - I’m assuming most of you have read this one already, because it’s been ALL OVER my tumblr feed for the past week or so. Going to be honest again, I was super excited to read this when I saw so many tumblr posts about it, but when I opened it and realized it was written in second person, I tabled it (I struggle with reading anything - fan fiction or novels - when they’re written in first or second person). HOWEVER, I kept seeing it all over my tumblr feed and then @100hearteyes rec’ed it and I tossed in the towel and gave it a shot. Fuck. I am SO happy that I read it. It was exquisitely written and had me feeling all SORTS of things. The story has some very strong Dexter vibes (I loved that show so much)! If you haven’t read it, you NEED to. I can’t wait to read more of their writing on ao3!

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A little shameless self promotion goes a long way, right? Below are four pieces I have on Ao3 as LostAndDelirious.

Number Five - Shorter one-shot I just posted (but had written a while ago). This was HEAVILY influencer on a tumblr post I saw post-World Cup about Kelley O’Hara’s frat boy energy. Lexa is one of the captains of soccer team Trikru and they had just won the national championship for the third year in a row. Clarke “runs into her” at a bar while the team is celebrating, and well... just read it to find out what happens. It’ll prob take you 5 min.

Maple Bourbon Candles - Clarke and her friends are on a 10-day trip up north during the winter and meet the small town’s general store owner, Lexa. They bump into each other after their initial meeting and start hanging out and Clarke finds herself to be a babbling mess around the girl. Not gonna lie, it’s pretty fluffy and kinda cute. It’s a WIP but I’m still updating it.

13 Clans - I’m a bit in love with writing this story at the moment. Lexa “The Commander” Woods works for an alcohol company, heading up the marketing division. The company merges with a few others, and enters an influx of new people in the office, including Clarke Griffin who is now heading up events and sponsorships for all their brands. There are a lot of happy hours, a lot of drinks, and a lot of traveling. It’s a bit of a slow burn, especially because Lexa is kind of a bitch, but the two find that they don’t always get on each others nerves. WIP and regularly updated.

Why Do You Think It Feels This Way? - This one’s a one-shot. There are a few fluffy moments, but the overall theme is far from fluff. Clarke and Lexa are both fresh out of heartbreaking relationships and meet because of mutual friends on a weekend trip to a lake house. They find a bit of solace in each other over the course of the weekend and well, just read it to find out the rest.

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phan-of-the-pen · 5 years

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what a plot twist you were

My last @phandombigbang fic is here!!! Enjoy you guys!!!

Thank you so so much @blockdedibujo for making the art to this fic! Reblog the art here!

Tags: fluff, angst, getting together, getting drunk, alcohol, minor swearing, bartender!Dan, implied/referenced cheating in past relationships

Word Count: 14.2k

Summary: Dan works as a bartender at nights to pay the bills. His night just keeps getting worse and worse however: some guy tried to grope him, he had three drinks spilled on his shirt so far, and he was tired as hell. But he manages to exit the fray with a new best friend, a man named Phil Lester who has had his heart broken one time too many and has sworn off love. What happens, however, when they fall for one another?

(ao3!) (check out my other fics!)

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan just wanted to go home and fucking sleep.

His day had been particularly miserable. He'd nearly lost all of his groceries and K.O.'d himself trying to walk up the stairs to his flat, he'd stubbed his toe not once, but three times on the same table corner, he'd lost his earbuds, and his laptop had a meltdown about seven seconds into Dan trying to actually use the ancient thing. So upon him coming into work, he already hadn't been in the best of moods.

But in Dan's normal luck, his day only got worse.

It was a Saturday night, so Dan had already been expecting a load of people, but tonight everyone and their mum had apparently decided to go out for drinks because Dan's bar was flooded with people. And all of them were seemingly seeking out to get absolutely smashed.

In translation, that meant Dan earned a shit ton of money, but his shift was hellish.

It was rounding eleven o'clock at night and he still had several hours left of his shift, which looked like he'd be spending in a tequila and margarita soaked shirt because he's had at least three drinks spilled on him so far. To make things better, he'd also had to practically scream for the club's bouncer because a guy drunk one vodka had nearly vaulted over the bar to grope Dan's ass as he was trying to keep up with the drink orders flying in.

So really, Dan was just angry and exhausted, and would probably saw off his arm to curl up in bed at this point.

"Rum and Coke," Dan called, sliding the glass down the bar where an older guy was waiting. He immediately started mixing another—this one a complicated but down-right delicious margarita—the front of his shirt plastered uncomfortably to his body and sticky with half-dried alcohol.

After about fifteen minutes of god-like bartending, a fair amount of the people had left to some other part of the club to dance or flirt, or whatever else anyone does when they're half-way between trashed and tipsy.

He poured the martini into it's glass, added a few olives, and handed it off to the woman waiting. She slipped him an extra tip and a smile after a sip. A man who looked a little older than Dan slumped into the seat of the bar farthest away from everyone else, shoulders slumped together. Dan made his way over when he had the chance.

"What'll it be?" he asked, keeping one eye on the drunk pair of guys practically making out on his bar counter. He'd have to call Al—the bouncer—if they took things any farther. "What?" He asked after he realized that they guy had answered him, but Dan hadn't heard a thing.

"A Black Sunday."

Dan almost asked the guy what he wanted to drink a third time. Surely he had to have heard wrong.

He served a lot of people in a night, sure, and while he was operating in a smaller-scale club, he still had a few people that were here for nothing but the chance to drink their worries away, not to pick up strangers and have fun that they wouldn't even remember the next morning.

The guy's voice was gruff and warbled, but Dan could tell that it wasn't from alcohol. He turned his full attention to the man before him. He was dressed in rumpled clothing that looked as if it had been what he'd slept in the night before and his pitch-black hair was pulled back in a messy quiff—if you could even call it that. There were dark bags under his bloodshot eyes and tear stains rolling down his cheeks. Regardless, Dan couldn't ignore his inherent beauty. His skin was that pretty pale you saw on Instagram, his face sculpted and angular. His eyes were a crystal-blue that reminded Dan of one of his specialty drinks—a fruity cocktail that was fairly popular.

"Okay," Dan said slowly.

A Black Sunday was a hard-core drink. The least potent ingredient was an ounce of 101-proof Wild Turkey Bourbon, and the ounce of 190-proof Everclear vodka added made it have a higher alcohol content than illegal American moonshine. The drink itself was sought after so infrequently, Dan could count on his hands the amount of times he had been asked to make one in all of his years of bartending.

Dan added the bourbon to the cocktail glass, followed by a generous amount of black cherry soda to keep it from tasting like antifreeze. He passed it to the guy who ordered it, and watched in near horror as he took a large gulp without even flinching.

Jesus, there's no way I'm messing with this guy. He's got some serious nerves to be drinking Bloody Sunday's like that. They’re almost straight fucking alcohol.

Dan's attention was called away by a group of people siding up to the bar, all talking loudly. Dan makes their drinks just in time for more people to come. The cycle continues like it normally does every busy night for a while—one order leading to another. The guy sticks around, not saying anything to anyone besides the one time he asked for a refill from Dan.

Eventually, the stream of constant people vying for a drink ebs a little before one in the morning, and Dan finally gets a chance to breathe. The alcohol that had been spilled on him early on had dried, leaving a vague alcoholic stench on Dan's being. His feet hurt a little, and he was starting to get tired of dealing with loads of drunks.

"Another, please."

Dan scooped up the empty glass, holding it for a moment and not immediately filling it. "You might want to slow down with these, mate, they can knock people out cold for like, a whole damn day if you have enough."

The guy didn't say anything back, just started with his red eyes, something hurt in them. Signing, Dan picked up the Everclear.

"I can't believe you've had so many of these, they taste like shit." Dan said simply, putting the bottles back where they went. He handed the now-full glass back to the guy, who nodded in appreciation, taking a large swig.

"They really do," He said, looking at the dark liquid in his hand as if it had personally offended him. Dan smiled and rolled his eyes.

"At least you know that you're torturing your taste buds, I guess."

The guy snorted.

"Yeah, a rude awakening from my normal fruity cocktails," he muttered, sipping his drink.

"Oh my god, there's no way that you drink stuff like that if you're here, on your third Black Sunday and still looking like you need about seven more to get smashed."

"Hard to believe, huh? God, if anyone that knew me could see me now. Or even if I just, I don't know, told someone they'd still never believe me. 'Phil, you cringe at gin and tonics there's no way that you'd drink that' is probably exactly what they'd say." Phil deflated a little, his lip pulling down like he just remembered something that he'd rather forget. "Well, I'd bet anything that it won't take me seven more, but if that's what I need to forget fucking everything," Phil downed almost the rest of his drink, the bottom of the cup clunking back down to the bar, "then by all means I'll do it."

Dan's anxiety spiked a little. He didn't really like it when there was conflict, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that this guy was going through some shit. He decided to change the topic.

"Phil, huh? I'm Dan," Dan said, throwing a glance down the bar, making sure that there still weren't any new customers.

Phil hummed in reply and swallowed down the last dregs of his Black Sunday.

"Another please, Dan. If you can't tell I don't even want to remember my own name."

Frowning, Dan complied, even if a little reluctantly.

"You know, it's probably really bad business, but alcohol is absolute shit for you," he said, passing Phil the cup. Their hands brushed.

"Is that like your doctor telling you that there's more side effects than actual things that help you in a medication?"

Dan laughed. "A little specific, but yeah, I guess so. Are you speaking from experience?" Dan asked, leaning on the bar.

"No, but I did have a really bad experience at the gym."

Dan snorted. Hasn’t everyone?

"No! Really, I did!"

"What'd you do, trip on the treadmill? I hate to break it to you, Phil, but everyone does that."

"I haven't! Besides, that's not what happened at all."

Phil launched himself into an in-depth story about how he'd hired a trainer to help him out, show him the ropes, give him something easy to do, and how it had gone horribly wrong. Dan listened in rapt attention, horrified at what had supposedly happened. In fact, he'd given Phil so much of his focus that when a younger girl asked for a drink, Dan had nearly fucked it up royally because he wasn't paying attention to the cocktail that his hands were trying to independently make.

They kept talking, and if Dan was honest, Phil was more than fun to converse with. They were able to trade stories and even a few jokes. The fact that Phil was extremely attractive even in his severely rumpled state was just an added bonus.

As it rounded three-thirty, there was a surge of people, anxiously drunk for a few last minute drinks before they stumbled their way home or into someone else's arms. The influx carried Dan away from Phil for probably twenty minutes, throwing a wedge into their conversation. Dan, for his part, tried to make the drinks as fast as possible because he wanted to continue where they'd left off—Phil trying to get Dan to believe that a stranger had once walked up to Phil and woofed in his ear.

When he finally returned to Phil, he could tell that it wasn't going to happen.

Phil was slumped over his drink, scowling and clearly buried in his own thoughts. There were tears brimming in his eyes, and the drink that he'd done less than look at in he and Dan's hour long conversation was almost gone. When Phil saw Dan approach him, he chugged the remainder and held it out for Dan to take.

"Another."

Dan's heart pained him.

"Phil…"

"Another." Phil said, his voice so hard and cold, yet so raw.

"No, Phil, I'm not serving you another Black Sunday. You've had too much and I won't be responsible for your liver committing suicide right in front of my eyes!" Dan huffed, his arms crossing. Phil's expression turned sharp, something in his eyes turning dark and jagged. Dan shivered, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

He was unnerved, yes, but Dan stood his ground even if his insides felt like they were grinding together.

Lip curling up into the beginning of a snarl, Phil dropped his hand down, the cocktail glass coming down so hard and fast that Dan feared it would shatter.

"Love. The whole thing is fucked." Phil growled suddenly.

Dan knit his eyebrows. What?

"I mean," Phil said, glaring at his empty glass, "it doesn't feel like it at first. It's all fluffy and happy, skipping classes in secondary school to make-out and holding hands and just...love. And then, oh fuck, then it just gets better. You graduate, both go to separate uni's but out of some miracle you make it work. You move in together. And god, you're so in love it hurts. You spend all of your time together and you love each other and…" Phil drifted off, the knuckles on his wrist blotchy and white, but Dan was too drawn into the soft words Phil was speaking to fear for the safety of the cocktail glass. "And then, he leaves you for one of your friends. But not before fucking the other guy first, and ripping your heart out of your fucking chest and stomping on it." Phil was shaking by the end, a mixture of fire and endless pain in his eyes.

"It hurts so bad, having to try and pick your life back up again from where it was scattered into such small, jagged pieces. Nothing's right either because you're stuck in a constant state of missing. It's been you and him for years at this point—how the hell are you supposed to just move on?" Phil shook his head. "I don't even care. Love isn't supposed to reduce you to sobs, and I want no part of it for the rest of my life," Phil said, practically spitting the last few words, distaste clear on his face.

"Phil...I…" Dan started when it was obvious that Phil wasn't going to say anything else, but he didn't know what to say. Fuck.

With Dan's horrified words, the spell was broken. Phil's head snapped up from where it had been gazing at the table. He stared at Dan for a moment, all of his emotion sprawled out before it all melted away in a single heartbeat, smoothing out into an impenetrable wall. He stood so abruptly that in his intoxicated state, he nearly toppled over. But Dan didn't have a chance to help him before Phil was pushing and shoving his way through the crowd.

Dan felt something heavy settle in his heart. He'd been a bartender for a fair amount of time, and he's had more than his fair share of sob stories. He hated hearing them and knowing that people were hurting enough to fall down the horrendously slippery slope of alcoholism. But the reality was that he could only offer words of comfort, maybe a few free drinks and some advice, but that was it. He'd have to watch as they left.

"Can I get a goddamn drink?"

Dan ground his teeth, turning himself away from where Phil disappeared into the crowd. A thirty-something guy was leaning on the bar, obviously hammered. He carelessly gave his order, eyeing up a pretty blonde a little farther down the bar. Dan made it on autopilot.

The rest of the night was a blur. Business picked up in the remaining few hours, and Dan was working hard to keep up with the orders. Nevertheless, he did it, and even did a relatively above average cleaning job after Al threw out the last of the drunks passed out on the dancefloor.

The rest of the night, he didn't see even a glimpse of that messy black hair.

~~~~~

The next few nights business passed as normal.

Dan took his late shifts in stride, none of them sporting crowds near the likely record that there had been on Saturday. Wednesday, however, at what was an estimate of two-am, a sullen and melancholy voice called out behind him.

"Black Sunday, please."

Dan turned, unable to stop the twitch of his upper lip trying to form a smile when he saw Phil.

Phil was wearing a different button-up, and while he looked to have the same rumpled aura, the shock of black hair seemed to be not quite as tangled and his shoulders were not as drawn in.

Then again, Dan might have just been projecting his wish for Phil to get better onto the man.

"Back again?" Dan asked, sliding a cocktail glass off of it's rack. Phil tossed him the skeleton of a little smile. Dan handed the now-full glass to Phil, and not having a moment to stop and talk, turned back to the other waiting customers.

After a lull in customers opened up he took the opportunity to turn his attention back to Phil. It had been probably about half an hour since Dan had given Phil his drink, and the glass was empty in Phil's pale hands.

Dan frowned, reaching for one of the water bottles he kept behind the bar and setting it down in front of Phil. Phil looked up, confused.

"You're not getting another Black Sunday out of me unless you drink at least this whole thing."

"What? Since when is that a thing?"

"Since you had a billion of them the other night and they have enough alcohol in them to knock out a gorilla."

Phil's brow was still crinkled, but he didn't protest further, curling his hand around the bottle. He sat like that for a moment before looking back up at Dan.

"Are you calling me a gorilla?" he asked softly, confusion still on his face, head tilted. Dan's eyebrows shot to the sky and he swore he rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out of his head.

"Is that seriously all you focused on? Jesus, Phil."

"Hey!"

"Here I am, being all kind, giving you water-"

"Dan."

"-and looking out for you-"

"Oh my god, Dan."

"-and you ask me if you're a fucking gorilla?" Dan finished incredulously. Phil was laughing, his tongue poking out from between his teeth, the action making Dan's chest feel warm. Feeling inexplicably and suddenly giddy, Dan continued.

"You know, Phil, I expected better of you, really. Hydration isn't a joke and you of all people should have-"

"Shh!" Phil laughed, reaching up easily against Dan's frame leaning over the bar and clasping his hand over Dan's mouth. And, miraculously stunned, Dan shut up.

Normally, when a customer would touch Dan anywhere—arm, shoulder, waist, hip, or anything else outside of the route of possible and normal physical contact of handing off a drink or collecting a payment—Dan would either chew them out or call Al over depending on his mood that day.

But Dan couldn't tear his eyes away from Phil's clear blue ones, his face happy and giggling, cheeks dusted pink from the alcohol in his first Black Sunday. In fact, he didn't do anything but stand there with his upper body braced on the bar by his elbows, paralyzed by Phil's warm palm on his lips, his face so close, eyes so bright.

Phil pulled away after a second or two, and yet it still felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room.

Dan didn't really know what to do with the knowledge that a touch so casual and obviously careless by a man he'd just met could throw him off like this.

Pulling himself out of his head, Dan forced himself to act somewhat normal, looking behind him to partly look for if there were any other customers waiting, and partly to look like he was keeping an eye out for customers, but instead using the moment turned away from Phil to collect himself.

Dan brought his head back only for Phil's eyes to instantly lock onto Dan's. Phil smiled.

"Where were we?"

They got to talking, and just like the other night, everything just flowed. They even had a heated debate hours later on which Muse album was the greatest while Dan was mixing drinks for a group of college kids.

"No, it's without a doubt Origin of Symmetry."

"I'm not saying that it's a bad album! But The Resistance is easily the best!" Phil said excitedly. He took another sip of his second Black Sunday of the night. He had a certain slur to his words that pointed to his slowly increasing drunkenness, but considering how easily Phil had thrown them back last time he was here, Dan considered it a win. "James and I would always-" Phil stopped so suddenly that Dan's head whipped around, concerned as to what was wrong. Phil's eyes were wide and brimming with tears, a distressed look on his face. A sob escaped his trembling lips, and Dan heard it catch in his throat.

James and I.

It suddenly clicked in Dan's head, and he could feel his own eyes widen. He fumbled with the liquor bottles in his hands, trying not to drop them like his hands had wanted to a heartbeat ago.

"Phil, talk to me." Dan said, setting the ingredients onto the bar closer to Phil and working there, willing his hands to measure and stir and pour faster. Unfortunately, Dan was fighting a bit of an uphill battle with several people waiting for drinks.

Another sob escaped Phil's lips, and to Dan's horror, a few tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks.

"One of Muse's songs, that was our song. We…" Phil trailed off, hiccuping, full-on crying now. Dan barely understood his garbled words. Phil dropped his face into his hands. Dan practically threw the drinks at the people as he managed to conjure them into existence, throwing himself headfirst into making the next one.

"What did I do wrong?" Phil sobbed. "W-we were happy and w-we loved each other and I was going t-to marry him! And he cheated!"

It felt like the carpet had just been yanked out from under Dan's feet. His heart ached in sympathy for Phil.

Fuck, they were going to get married and this James guy cheated? That's fucking horrible.

Some of the people waiting for drinks were casting glances in Phil's direction, and Dan wanted to scream at them to mind their own business. Moreso, he wanted to drop everything and wrap Phil up in a hug.

"Phil," Dan said desperately, throwing together a handful of shots in seconds, "I know it may not seem like it but this James guy is an arse. You didn't deserve to get cheated on, not at all. You deserve better than him." Dan looked over his shoulder, wanting to see if any of his hasty words made it through to him, but Phil's barstool was empty, and minus the empty cocktail glass, there was no evidence that Phil had even been there.

~~~~~

Phil didn't show up again for almost two weeks.

Dan would have liked to say that on the nights he worked the bar during those two weeks he didn't keep a constant eye out for the man with the sad eyes and hunched stature, but it would have been one of the worst lies he'd ever told.

When Phil did show on a lonely Tuesday night, Dan didn't know if he should be excited or not. On one hand, Phil finding his way back into Dan's bar meant that Phil still, on some level, wanted to be around Dan (or the drinks he made, Dan's subconsciousness helpfully provided. Dan told his subconsciousness to shut up). On the other hand, it could easily mean that Phil had just slipped far enough in his sorrow that he once again needed the company of alcohol, and the thought made Dan's heart throb in shared sorrow.

But as Phil flashed Dan a smile, the edges of his shy-blue eyes crinkling, Dan was hopeless to the grin that spread over his features as a result.

"Hey."

"Hey back. How's the world of Dan...what's your last name?"

Dan raised his eyebrow a little, but still responded. "Howell."

"Great. How's the world of Dan Howell, then?"

Dan snorted and shook his head, but the smile on his face didn't falter with Phil's quirk.

"Not bad. Today's kind of empty, so I've had more time to relax than normal." Dan pulled up his stool, sitting on his side of the bar, directly across from Phil. "How's the world of Phil?" Phil pouted, and it really shouldn't have been as adorable as it was.

"You aren't going to ask my last name?"

"I was counting on the fact that you'd tell me."

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm already the only one holding up this whole relationship." Phil whined. Dan didn't really say anything, but the word relationship threw him for a loop. It bounced around in his skull, making his thoughts sizzle to a stop for a moment before they limped back into place. Phil, however, being himself, didn't notice Dan's half a second reboot and just kept going.

"Anyways, since you won't ask, I'll tell you." Phil leaned forward, easily catching Dan's gaze. And fuck, this man shouldn't have this much power over him. "It's Lester. Philip Michael Lester," he said. Dan's attention didn't leave Phil's unearthly blue eyes, but he was all too aware at how Phil's lips were moving.

God, he needed to keep his shit together.

Dan hummed in response and swallowed, holding what was left of himself together with what seemed like only his bare hands.

Phil waited another moment before he pouted again, stronger this time.

"Dan! Ask me!"

"Ask you what?"

"You know!"

Dan leaned forward on the counter, and devilishly decided to give Phil a taste of his own medicine. However, Dan wasn't as effortlessly angelic like Phil, so he put in the work. He brought his chin down onto his hand and looked up through his lashes, making sure to soften his gaze. Dan let his shoulders relax and gave his head a little tilt, stretching his neck.

"Fine, how's the world of Philip Michael Lester?" he purred. It was obvious he was flirting. Obvious.

Phil's eyes widened, and Dan was close enough to hear the breath catch in his throat. He saw the way Phil's gaze drunk in everything Dan was offering.

And then Phil looked away, shattering the moment and bringing the reality of what Dan just did crashing down. He tried to hit on a guy who was dealing with a horrible break-up with the love of his life. God, Dan was so fucking stupid, and callous, and cruel—

"You, know, it's honestly going really, really good," Phil said, bringing Dan back to the present. Phil's gaze came back, and Dan was relieved beyond belief at it's warmth. He pulled himself back and schooled his emotions—not to mention getting himself in check.

(Dan ignored the flicker of disappointment that he swore danced across Phil's features. It was nothing but Dan projecting his own interests on the poor man.)

A couple walked up to the bar, looking expectantly at Dan, who stood as soon as they approached. He turned to Phil.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

Phil smiled a little, resting his head on his palm like Dan had just been doing before. His posture was remarkably the same, but fuck with the dancing lights of the club floor highlighting his features and the downright ease at which he commanded all of Dan's attention, it was so much better than what Dan could ever pull off.

But once Dan felt his heart tug at his ribcage, he knew that he didn't really care if Phil was more attractive than him.

"Yeah," Phil said, his voice soft but still reaching Dan's ears effortlessly, "I'd like something light. I really want to remember tonight."

~~~~~

Maybe if Dan wasn't so drunk on Phil's company, he would have thought about how well they got along with each other was too good for reality. How easy it was for their friendship to click would have given Dan pause in any other frame of mind because all of his relationships with people were carefully cultivated after dozens and dozens of hours at the very least. But with Phil, Dan doubted that he could count all of the hours they had spent together on two hands. Yet, as Dan laughed at Phil's stupid jokes and their banter played off of each other effortlessly, it was easy to fall into the feeling that they had known each other for longer than reality.

Yet…

Dan wasn't paying any of that to mind.

No, right now, he was so immersed in Phil's slightly-tipsy attention that it seemed nothing but normal.

It was late—nearing three in the morning—and Phil had only had two weak drinks, good on his word. The whole night they hadn't stopped talking once. Even as Dan was mixing drinks for customers or taking orders, he was still listening intently to Phil ramble, or refusing to stop his little sarcastic interjections just because he had to do his job.

By the time Dan was nearing having to close up the club, he honestly felt that he knew Phil as well as other friends he had, if not better. No topic seemed off the table tonight, and yeah, Dan strayed away from asking stupid questions that would have obviously crossed a line or upset Phil. However they still bounced so freely from topic to topic that Dan felt he could name a thousand new things about this man who kept coming into his bar.

Video game interests, music, professions, where the hell they wanted to end up in life, what made them happy, the stars, a whole half an hour of Dan monologues about candles, different tragedies they've endured...and so much more.

The entire thing was insane. And good. It made Dan smile giddy and forget that he was a wreck.

And a hour later, as Dan wiped away the stickiness of dried alcohol on the many tables in the bar, he was left in what he could best describe as a state of awe. Never had one of his shifts passed that fast, and never has he ever enjoyed himself so much in one.

In his back pocket, Dan's phone vibrated. He slipped it out, and even though he had his assumptions as to who was texting him this early in the morning, the confirmation still made him grin wide enough to hurt.

>> From: Phil I expect you to finish that story about your piano teacher next time im there kay you left me on a cliffhanger, mate

He clicked back a quick-witted reply and pocketed his phone, continuing to clean up with a smile on his face. In the pocket of his jeans, Dan could swear that the plastic of his case was still warm from where Phil had touched it earlier—giving Dan the precious gift of instant communication to who was quickly becoming one of his favorite people—before waltzing right out of Dan's club doors, a bounce in his step and a swing in his hips.

~~~~~

>> From: Phil psst….

>> To: Phil psst

>> From: Phil work is super boring :(

>> To: Phil u were the one to pick a publisher as a prof. mate

>> From: Phil :(

I expected some sympathy and maybe a "phil you brave soul I'll come save you"

>> To: Phil *insert eyeroll*

Im in the middle of tesco and ur at work I cant just "save" u

>> From: Phil youre not going to try?

>> To: Phil whats in it for me?

>> From: Phil my time? my presence? my charming good looks? my humor??? me???

>> To: Phil ur not full of yourself at all huh

>> From: Phil :(

I need a new best friend *you* wont even rescue me :(((

~~~~~

>> From: Phil dan its 3am get off twitter

>> To: Phil phil its 3am get off ur phone

>> From: Phil dannnnnn

>> To: Phil :p

>> From: Phil come on you need sleepppp

>> To: Phil I could say the same for u

besides

staying up late is my job if anything this is training for work

>> From: Phil >:(

>> To: Phil why r u up anyways?

>> From: Phil I cant sleep

>> To: Phil James?

>> From: Phil … … yeah...

>> To: Phil dont apologize for ur feelings phil

…

idk if ur tired or not but do u want to watch a movie?

I mean

we would obvs watch it separately but we can text through it like we're sitting next to each other

…

that way ur mind can be off of James and we can keep each other company?

…

we dont have to

>> From: Phil that sounds pretty perfect

~~~~~

Over the following month, Dan and Phil spent an absurd amount of time texting each other. In the beginning, things were a little awkward with neither man knowing how to really proceed, but a week after Phil first typed in his number into Dan's phone and another in-person visit from Phil, things between them flowed. Not a day went by without at least a single conversation, even if it was nothing more than a dumb pun. Dan wasn't completely sure how Phil was faring with the new dependency on each other, but Dan knew that he had accidentally neglected a handful of customers this week because he had been typing out something to send to Phil.

And...the thing was...Dan was happy.

Now, it wasn't as if he had been upset with his life before per se, but more of like he had been merely content with it. He didn't jump out of bed, excited for the day, but he also didn't dread the thought of waking up again. Peculiarly, Dan found himself rolling over and checking his phone for a notification from Phil before he had even really woken up yet, already searching for that spark between them. He found himself smiling more, and more genuinely.

It was a good change.

Dan laced his fingers together above his head, stretching with a yawn. It was the early morning—around three—and he was tired. He couldn't wait to close up, text a sleeping Phil a story about one of the drunks tonight, and fall asleep.

When he spotted a familiar black head of hair, he frowned.

It was unbelievably late, not to mention that Dan knew that Phil had work tomorrow—what the hell was Phil doing awake, and hell, here?

Dan watched as Phil made his way through the crowd, and Dan's heart sank as the apparent reason why Phil had decided to show tonight made itself known.

He was disheveled, a large frown on his face, and a slump to his shoulders. His skin was paler than normal, yet there was still a flush dusting his cheeks, and Dan knew without a doubt that it was from alcohol.

Dan's heart throbbed painfully as he watched Phil stumble onto one of the barstools.

Dan stepped forward and automatically tried to reach out to offer Phil comfort, but the near complete lack of recognition startled him, making him suck in a breath. Could Phil have really forgotten him after some drinks? Dan had thought that their friendship had been worth more to the man.

He tried to get the thoughts out of his head. His hurt feelings didn't really matter right now. What mattered was that Phil was seemingly self-destructing. God Phil, how much alcohol did you have already?

"I wa't a vodka." Phil slurred, a spark finally lighting behind his eyes. "Dan!" He said, sounding cheery for a moment before his sour mood returned. "I 'eed a drink."

"Phil," Dan started, stepping as close as he could with the bar separating them, "how much did you drink before? You're already smashed I don't—Phil, no-!"

Phil frowned harder and tried to get up, the motion near unsuccessful on his uncoordinated and drink-heavy legs. Dan immediately lunged over the bar, grabbing Phil's sleeve and pulling him back onto the stool. He worked with drunks, so it was easy for Dan to tell that upon standing, Phil had more of a chance flying than trying to walk out the door. He most likely would pass out at this point.

"Look," Dan sighed, frantically thinking of a way to keep Phil here, "I'll get you a drink, okay? I'll get you one. Just...just don't leave."

Dan filled a shot glass almost all the way with water. He then threw in a dash of vodka—just enough to get the general taste of it. Phil was too far gone to tell that he was being tricked, but Dan wanted to make sure that the vague flavor of vodka would reach Phil's taste buds just in case Phil was a particularly adept drunk.

He set the glass down in front of Phil, and immediately Phil threw it back, holding it out in an unsteady hand for another. Dan compiled, however this time didn't put any vodka in, just water. He mimed pouring vodka in the glass with his back turned, put the unused bottle of vodka back, and gave it to Phil. Dan paid close attention to Phil as he drank it, but he showed no sign of knowing what he was drinking.

The last hour of Dan's shift followed a similar pattern—he gave Phil as many shots as he wanted, all of them water. Phil didn't say anything, didn't really show much evidence that he was comprehending where he was, and what he was doing, minus the occasional grunt to get Dan's attention for another drink.

The whole thing worried Dan to bits.

By the time Al was making his rounds, ensuring that all of the people had left, Dan had to stop him from tossing Phil out onto the streets.

"No!" Dan had said, panicked, almost dropping the bottles of alcohol he was restacking, "He's a friend, Al. I'll take care of him, promise."

It took a few tries to get Al to believe that Phil wasn't going to be a problem for Dan, but he eventually nodded, telling Dan to call him if he needed anything and walking out, his job done for the night.

Dan sped through the rest of the clean up, and sooner than expected he was standing outside of the locked bar, Phil half asleep and leaning all of his weight onto Dan who was desperately trying to hold him up. Dan paused for a moment, at a loss. He didn't know where Phil lived, let alone have a key to Phil's place, and wasn't sure if Phil could make it a whole night by himself in the state he was in—the last thing either of them needed was blackout-drunk Phil to accidentally hurt himself or decide to take a midnight stroll.

He glanced at the sleepy man in his arms and tapped his foot, weighing his options before letting out a huff and slipping his arm around Phil's waist, starting off down the block where Dan had parked his car. Phil tried to help, but he could barely get a step in with how uncoordinated his legs were. In circumstances other than trying to carry another man nearly as tall as him, Dan might have laughed, but Phil was heavy.

Through a lot of stumbling and a dozen almost-falls, they made it, and Dan was just barely able to get Phil into the passenger seat after ten minutes of Phil trying to move his unresponsive limbs in an effort to help, and Dan trying to stop him because it was only making things worse. By the time Dan buckled himself in and started the car, he was breathing heavily as if he'd ran the whole way to his car.

Getting Phil up to the floor of Dan's flat was simple enough due to the elevator, but getting him past the door was horrid. Phil was asleep and complete dead weight in Dan's arms, and Dan had to drag him through, nearly hitting his head on the doorframe by accident.

Once inside the flat, Dan didn't really make it very far. He rolled Phil onto the couch and collapsed onto the floor, his breathing labored. Did he sometimes have to lift heavy things while working at a bar? Sure, but that was nothing compared to an unconscious Phil.

Dan caught his breath and pulled himself back up on his feet—he couldn't rest yet. Dan removed Phil's glasses and rolled Phil onto his right side so he was facing away from the back of the couch. He then put the little trash can that he had had in his bedroom on the floor in line with Phil's head; that way if he threw up he would hopefully do it in that and not on Dan's floor. Once Dan was certain that Phil would be fine by himself for a little, Dan retreated into his bedroom and stripped himself of his bar uniform, putting on a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. He thought about bringing something in with him to change Phil into so he wasn't sleeping in jeans, but decided against it—there was no way to know if Phil was comfortable with Dan doing that, and Phil's possible inability to sleep well with jeans was irrelevant when he was unconscious and drunk off his ass.

Dan threw his dirty clothes into the hamper, brushed his teeth, and pulled the duvet and the pillows on his bed off, piling them on the floor in the lounge next to the couch. He went right back to his room and pulled one of his fluffiest blankets out of his closet.

Once he was back in the lounge, he let the blanket fall so he could pick up the duvet and then draped it over Phil, tucking in the corners to keep him warm. Dan slid a pillow under Phil's head and pushed the coffee table away to make room for himself before caccooning his body in the blanket on the floor, facing Phil.

It wasn't the most comfortable of sleeping positions and his back would probably hurt tomorrow, but there was no way in hell that Dan was going to let Phil alone by himself.

It was a while before Dan's mind quieted enough for his eyes to drift closed, but the last thing he saw was Phil's peaceful face, lulled to sleep.

~~~~~

The night turned out to be more eventful than he had hoped, but no less than he had planned for, and Dan was glad that the day before he had had a good night's rest because his sleep turned out to be interrupted at best.

Phil threw up twice, and Dan both times Dan thanked his past self for putting the trash can down.

Phil hadn't been properly conscious for the first time, and it had taken Dan a half an hour to clean up a sleepy Phil and help him brush his teeth with a spare toothbrush Dan had found crammed under his sink. By the second time, Phil had sobered up a little (mainly because he had vomited up a large portion of the alcohol he had ingested). He had reached down, clutching at Dan's upper arm with one hand and the other yanking the trash can as close as he could get it. That time, Dan was awake in time to rub Phil's back and card his fingers through his hair, soothing him as he retched. Both times, while Phil went to sleep quickly afterwards, but Dan couldn't fathom another minute of sleep for at least an hour after. His focus was pinpointed onto the man on his couch and utterly convinced that Phil would need him even if Dan shut his eyes for a moment. Dan wasn't sure what the time was when he managed sleep, but grey morning light was already seeping into the apartment by the time his exhaustion had settled over him.

Dan roused close to ten in the morning, eyes heavy and body sore. His eyes fell immediately onto Phil who was still sleeping, his face peaceful and tranquil in unconsciousness. He watched Phil from his makeshift bed on the floor for a few minutes—was that creepy? Too much? If Phil was up would he be freaked out by Dan's stare?

The thought made Dan's eyes slowly shift away from Phil's pale skin. He ended up crawling out from under his blanket and finding his way into his kitchen where he had a bowl of cereal, rubbing at his eyes frequently. Since Phil undoubtedly needed his rest and was still sleeping soundly, Dan decided to just let Phil get up by himself.

Dan made his way to the shower, where he spent at least fifteen minutes on the floor of the tub, letting the hot water hit his curled up frame. It soothed the muscles in his body, acting like a balm to his overactive thoughts. All of which were about the man laid on his couch and the way his shoulders sagged with pain, the curl of his smile, and the starbursts in his eyes.

Dan didn't understand how there was someone out there who could give up a man like Phil, let alone cheat on him.

When he emerged from the bathroom, steam curling from the doorframe and his curls towel-dried on his head, Phil had switched positions. Instead of laying on his side like he had been all night, Phil was on his back, head turned to the junction connecting the armrest to the back of the couch. His mouth was parted and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheekbones, likely from a dream he was currently experiencing.

It should be illegal for someone to look that good sleeping, Dan thought, his feet pulling him closer on instinct until Dan was sitting on the floor with his back pressed up against the sofa and the blanket he had been using all night curled around his body.

He felt uncomfortable continuing to stare at Phil with the innate knowledge of his own personal attraction to the man and knowing how much Phil was falling apart with this breakup, so Dan pulled his ultimate social crutch out—his phone. With pink-dusted cheeks, Dan pulled up the first app his fingers found, and soon enough, he was forgetting all about last night and this morning.

When Phil stirred however, Dan's attention immediately snapped to him.

Phil was now in a similar position that he had been all night, rubbing at his eyes and yawning widely.

"Phil?" Dan asked, putting his phone onto the coffee table and scooting closer to where Phil's head was. Phil just looked up at him, eyes sleepy and expression tired.

"Dan?"

"Yeah. Do you remember last night?"

"Hmm? No, I don't think so…" Phil paused, his eyes falling to the duvet he was snuggled in, cold realization settling into his posture, "I got drunk, didn't I? My head certainly feels like I did" He asked in a small voice. Dan gave him a pained smile that he meant to be reassuring, but Dan had a feeling that it wasn't in the slightest. He picked up Phil's glasses from where he had discarded them when they had first gotten home and gave them to Phil, their hands brushing more than Dan was certain was necessary.

"You were absolutely smashed before you even showed up at my bar."

Phil groaned and covered his face with his hands, sighing so deeply that it sounded pained.

"God, I'm sorry."

"Phil…"

"I promised myself I was going to stop drinking my feelings away. Look how well that turned out," Phil said bitterly, frowning heavily. His eyes were wet, looking ready to cry. Dan wrapped his fingers around Phil's wrist to get his attention, not even thinking about the action.

"Phil, you've been through a lot, and you aren't dealing with it very healthily, but acknowledging that is the first five steps to moving past that."

Phil didn't look convinced, his gaze sliding back down to the blanket, shame and remorse in his eyes. Dan squeezed his wrist, willing Phil to still pay attention to him.

"You seemed to be doing really good with managing the want to get drunk for a while there, and I know that relapses are a very possible thing, but I think you should just do what you were doing before, you know? You seemed really happy when I saw you, and even texting you were so much more joyful than when we had first met. You were doing really good, and I think you can keep doing really good."

At this point, Phil's attention was back on the blanket.

"That...that's harder than it sounds. What I was doing...I don't know if I can keep doing it."

"God, Phil, were you on drugs?"

"No!" Phil gasped, looking up in shock.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dan, I'm sure. I just...I don't really know how to explain it, but you know how sometimes you find something new, and it like, fills a hole in you that you didn't know existed? It's like that, but it just...scares me I guess. Because I don't know how to handle it? I didn't even know that I needed it until I had it but now I try to picture myself without this new...thing and I can't. And I don't know what to do, because I'm not supposed to feel like this."

"Who says you're not supposed to feel the way you do, Phil? You can't pick and choose what you feel—the heart doesn't work like that. It's like how you're hurting because of James and what he did to you; you don't have a choice in the matter of the pain or joy you feel, and you can't selectively mute the negative without obstructing the positive." There were tears in Phil's eyes, a few fat drops slipping out and sliding down his cheeks. "And," Dan said, wiping away Phil's tears with his hand, "I think that if that thing—whatever it is—makes you happy, it's worth a little bit of terror. You don't deserve to make yourself suffer more just by denying your feelings, Phil."

Phil was full on crying now, and the tears were flowing faster than Dan could wipe them away. But before he could disentangle himself just long enough to conjure up a box of tissues, Phil tugged Dan forward into a hug. Phil broke down, sobbing into Dan's shoulder, blubbering about James and how lost he felt and the guilt he had. It all just...tumbled out, and Dan wasn't sure if Phil even meant to be spilling everything, but Dan had a feeling that these were tears and emotions that Phil had never let himself have.

Sure, Phil had mourned the future he had lost, but had he let himself mourn the pain he was feeling? All of the trust he had lost as a result? All of the misery he had endured? Dan didn't think so, and the thought broke him.

And as Phil cried into his shirt, Dan just held him tighter.

~~~~~

Hours later, Dan was having more fun than he had had in the company of another person in a long time.

He and Phil were nestled together on the couch with blankets piled on top of them, cocooning them together. Phil had showered and called out sick for work for the day after managing breakfast and, at Dan's insistence, two big glasses of water to make up for the alcohol-induced dehydration he had endured last night. And as it was, neither of them wanted Phil to get back into his dirty clothes, so Dan let Phil borrow some of his and told Phil that he'd wash them. And when Phil had first emerged from the bathroom in one of Dan's soft jumpers, a pair of joggers clinging to his hips, Dan had cursed under his breath, instantly knowing that letting such an attractive man wear his clothes was a mistake.

Thankfully, Phil hadn't seemed to notice.

What either of them had also seemed to have failed to notice, was that Phil wasn't technically supposed to be in Dan's flat.

At first, it was 'oh, your clothes are still in the washer'.

Then it turned into 'well we might as well have lunch while you're here'.

Then it was 'hey Dan you have Mario Kart? I didn't know that—can we play?'

And now, well, now it evolved into zero space between them, Dan's heart seizing in his chest as they watched Wonder Woman together on Dan's couch.

Phil inhaled deeply as on the screen Diana ignored Steve's protests and ran across the battlefield, her shield in front of her.

"Oh my god," Phil breathed, shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth, his eyes wide. Dan, for his part, was happy that he had seen the movie already, because with Phil pressed to his side in his own clothes, he wasn't paying it any attention. The rest of the movie passed in a similar manner, and soon enough the credits were rolling and Phil was crying from the ending, still clutching onto Dan's arm where he had latched onto when the tension was running through the roof earlier.

"That was horrible! They deserved to stay together! How are you not crying?" Phil cried, looking at the credits still as if they would fade into a "jk lol that's not the real ending".

"Phil, I can't really change the ending of a movie. Also, maybe because I've seen it before?" Dan replied helplessly. He didn't really cry after movies. Phil just sniffled and wiped away the few tears that had leaked out of his eyes.

"I need a pick-me-up after that. Did you want to watch another movie? Though I have to put in a request for something that won't make me cry like a baby."

Dan looked at the clock in the lounge and frowned, disappointment settling heavily in his ribcage.

"We don't have time for another movie since I'm going to have to get to work soon," Dan started, and Phil's face fell, but Dan nearly tripped over himself trying to fix it, "but I can do pizza? That's enough of a pick-me-up, right?"

"Are you sure? I can leave, god, I didn't even ask if I could stay-"

"Phil," Dan interrupted, knowing where that train of thought was going and needing to stop it immediately, "you're fine, I promise. Today's been really fun and I'm glad you're here. C'mon, let's order pizza."

Dan watched as the frown that had been forming on Phil's face flipped instantly into a blinding smile, and he'd have been lying if he didn't say that the sight made the edges of everything glow as well.

And even hours later, when Dan was at the bar serving drinks to people, he couldn't stop the smile on his face—not when he was riding on the high of spending the day with Phil combined with Phil currently blowing up his phone with "I miss you" texts.

~~~~~

The golden feeling didn't even last a week this time though.

Things had been going insanely well. Dan and Phil had spent the next day—Dan's day off—together. Phil had called out of work once again, insisting that he made more than enough money and that he didn't need to be worrying about missing another day's pay when Dan protested. This day was one spent out and about, the two of them acting like absolute idiots together, window shopping and having too many snacks from food vendors.

Everything was perfect, and Phil was looking at Dan like that, and Dan wanted the whole day to be the rest of his life, because fuck they were so happy.

But the following night, when Phil stomped into Dan's bar at two in the morning, anger and pain in his eyes, Dan knew that the Phil he had been spending all of his time with recently was gone.

Phil asked for a drink, giving Dan less than a glance. He watched in horror as Phil threw back the shot without pause and asked for something stronger.

And goddamnit, but Dan wasn't working alone tonight, and before he could decide if it was better to confront Phil here and now or tomorrow after letting him get piss-drunk, his coworker had already given Phil what he was asking for and moved onto the next person.

The last two hours of Dan's shift ended up passing in a similar manner. Dan filled some of Phil's orders, trying to talk to Phil about how Dan was worried for him, but Phil would just ignore it. Other times, Dan was legitimately busy with other customers, and his coworker gave Phil the hard liquor he wanted without a second thought.

When Dan was clocking out at four-AM Phil was still there, holding out his glass as he waited for Dan's coworker—who was still working the bar—to fill it. When he saw Dan, he grunted and turned to Dan instead.

"'ere, Dan, 'ou can get th's," Phil slurred, drunk. Dan, who had been quickly put into a terrible mood at Phil drowning himself in alcohol, frowned and the glass out of Phil's hand. He left it on the bar counter with enough money to pay for Phil's tab. He grabbed Phil's arm by the elbow and hauled him up to his feet wordlessly, dragging Phil forcefully out of the bar. By the time they hit the cool night air Phil had recovered enough to protest.

"Dan, wha' the hell are 'ou doing?"

"My shift is done, Phil," he replied evenly, "You're drunk, once again trying to bloody kill yourself with alcohol, and I'm not letting you go home by yourself. That leaves you one option, and that's to come home with me."

It took Phil a few stumbled steps to make sense of what Dan said, but when he did he tried to pull back.

"Wha'? No, 'm going back," he mumbled, but Dan just tightened his grip and walked faster, Phil nearly tripping behind him.

"No, you're not. You're wasted and I'm not going to let you give yourself alcohol poisoning."

They were in Dan's car and speeding away soon enough, Dan's grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles a blotchy white.

Once they were inside Dan's flat he gave Phil his duvet and a pillow, and showed him the couch. When Phil tried to protest Dan gave him a firm "get to sleep, we'll talk in the morning" before he went into his bedroom and changed into something comfortable enough to sleep in. When he got back into the lounge with a blanket for himself, Phil was already unconscious. Dan sighed and started arranging himself on the floor, tired and angry and hurt. He fell asleep quickly, but when he woke up, his exhaustion didn't seem to have been satisfied.

He showered and cleaned up where he had slept by the time Phil started stirring. Dan took another sip from his coffee as Phil stretched, audibly wincing with a hiss of his teeth—it was probably his hangover, and judging at how Phil didn't have a sip of water last night, it was most likely remarkably worse than the last one. After a groan Phil propped himself up, blinking sleepily. His eyes landed on Dan sitting at his kitchen table, coffee in hand. Phil swallowed hard, understanding dawning in his eyes.

"Morning," he said quietly.

"Morning."

"Was I as drunk as last time?" Phil asked after a moment, biting his lip.

"No," Dan replied quietly, "but nearly."

"I'm...I'm so sorry, Dan. You shouldn't have to cart me around and take care of a drunk me. I-"

"Phil, I'm your friend. I don't care if I have to support you and help you when you need it. But I'm not going to just sit by and give you alcohol whenever you want and take you home afterwards. Our friendship is worth more than that." The words made a defensive look cloud Phil's face.

"Didn't you just say that you would support me?"

"Yeah, and I also just said that I wouldn't enable your shitty choices, Phil." Dan bit back, properly angry all over again. Phil's face darkened, the former softness leftover from sleep gone.

"That's great support, Dan, thanks. Well, in case you haven't noticed, I've kind of been trying to handle things, alright? I have a lot of shit to work through. Sorry if a little compassion is too much for you to handle."

"You call drinking until you can't remember the day before handling things?" Dan asked incredulously.

"You call whatever this is supporting me?" Phil cried, his voice raised.

"I'm not going to sit back and watch you become an alcoholic, Phil!" Dan exploded. "And I'm certainly not going to help you become one! So, if you want to keep getting drunk off your ass because you're 'working through things' then you can go to some other bar because I'm not going to let you use me to self destruct! Do you know how many regulars I have at that bar? People with sadder stories than yours, who can't get by without at least a pint in their system at all times. People who are going to be dead by forty from liver failure. Do you want to become one of them?"

Phil was quiet for a moment.

"Do you really think that I'm using you to get drunk? What about two days ago, or the one before that? What about all of the texts?" Phil asked quietly. "You're my friend. You always come first over the alcohol."

"It doesn't always feel like that," Dan said softly, but no less harshly. He wasn't burning with anger anymore. He was tired. He just wanted to cuddle with Phil on the couch, but this was something that they needed to work through.

They both fell silent, unsure what to do, what to say, how to act. Phil sighed.

"It's never an intention. Sometimes it just...hurts to the point where all I can think about is a way to numb it. Sometimes I'm okay, like when we were out the other day together And other times I'm in my flat and I just get so overwhelmed that it hurts too much. I can't deal with it." Phil said, near whispering. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. "All I ever wanted was to be enough for him." Phil breathed, the tears spilling out of his eyes, crashing through the barrier that had been erected between them since the first drop of alcohol had passed Phil's lips last night.

Dan was up and out of his chair faster than he realized, nearly knocking over his coffee. They both pulled each other into the embrace, Phil gasping into Dan's neck through his sobs.

"It's okay, Phil, it's okay," Dan mumbled, clutching at Phil just as much as the other man did him. Dan desperately petted at Phil's hair and rubbed his back to comfort him. He ignored all of the emotions in his chest tangling together and simultaneously trying to force themselves out. Phil was more important right now.

"You're more than enough."

~~~~~

Phil ended up staying for the rest of the day like last time, but everything was just on this side of different. Both of their emotions were swirled together in a jumbled, confusing, unpredictable mess, which made for a few interesting interactions. There were several points in the day where one or both of them started crying due to one thing or another, and even more instances where one of them would snap at the other, sometimes sparking a quick spat before the inevitable rushed and sincere apologies.

Even more importantly, they patched all of the threatening cracks in their friendship and came to a greater understanding of each other. Their relationship was now one more attune to each other and less toxic for the both of them.

Dan pulled the blanket up higher over his body. It was late and the two of them had ended up on the couch, watching an absurd amount of Marvel together. Dan was sure that the blanket had essentially materialized, for he had no memory of Phil getting up to retrieve it and he was certain he hadn't. He wasn't complaining, however. The blanket quite literally softened the atmosphere around them and gave him an excuse to cuddle up to Phil's side.

Hours later, they were in the same spot. Phil however was out cold, his body half-slumped over Dan's, head on his shoulder. Dan didn't mind in the slightest. Phil was an incredibly cute sleeper, and being able to properly hold this wonder of a man was more than enough compensation for being his pillow.

On the screen, the characters were in the middle of the climax of the movie, fighting for their lives. Normally Dan got into scenes like these, but he was too wrapped up in soaking in all of the time with Phil he could get.

Dan knew that when the movie ended he'd have to wake Phil—he had work tomorrow and needed to get back home—but that was something he'd think about when the time came.

Dan watched Phil's eyelids flutter as well as his nose twitch, both by-products of whatever dream Phil was having at the moment. Dan smiled at it, an ache in his chest flaring at the sight of Phil so content. God, he was so whipped for this man.

Dan's hand settled in Phil's soft hair, running his fingers through it as he twisted his body to let Phil lay more comfortably against him. Dan settled back into the couch, letting the warm feeling in his bones seep through his whole body as he cherished the last few minutes he had with Phil before he would leave him.

~~~~~

It became a habit.

Whenever Phil would wind up at Dan's bar he would go home with Dan and stay the night. Even as Phil's self-destructive drinking habit started to shrink, and the need for Dan to make sure he lasted the night no longer became relevant, he still found himself waking up at Dan's the next morning.

A different product of their unspoken arrangement was that Dan's flat slowly became infused with Phil himself. He had a drawer in Dan's bureau, a toothbrush in the bathroom, and a permanent claim on the guest bed. But more than that, there were little reminders of Phil everywhere. A discarded shirt whose original owner had been long forgotten, a knick knack that Dan had no recollection of buying, an extra box of Dan's cereal for the mornings because Phil liked to snack on it and Dan was tired of having to run to Tesco's because he wanted breakfast. It was Phil having a key to the flat, and knowing how Dan made his coffee, and his lanky, relaxed form a regular and comforting presence in Dan's home.

It was so gradual that Dan didn't really notice the change until it had already happened. And by then, there was nothing he could do; Phil was properly rooted into his life and Dan was absolutely powerless to try and remove him.

Of course, Phil was over more than regularly without the assistance of alcohol. They grew awfully close with the sudden co-dependence and the company they provided each other. Dan didn't even want to know how many hours they spent together, nor the insurmountable number of texts they exchanged while they were apart.

Dan had even been around Phil's, but every single time they would gravitate back to Dan's. Phil said it had something to do with the "feel" of Dan's flat, something about energy, but Dan didn't really believe him. Judging from the lack of personalized decor Dan had seen, Phil didn't really spend that much time in his apartment. And knowing what he did, Dan easily knew why Phil tended to avoid his own flat.

Dan just wondered why Phil hadn't changed any of it yet for a fresh start. It had been quite a bit since the breakup, and all of the lingering memories had to hurt.

There was also something growing between them. Dan could see it in the unnecessary brushes of their fingers and the prolonged touch of a hand on the other's shoulder. How much they sought after each other clear as day in their glances and smiles as well. Dan tried to keep his hopes from rising too high out of the ashes—Phil was dealing with a harsh breakup, and there was no telling that Phil would even want to act on feelings (that might not even be there, Dan's anxiety reminded him)—but it was like fighting an uphill battle.

Dan was certain that he would be fine just as friends, but the guy had all but moved in and in the process showed them both what a domestic life together would be like, and it was so good it hurt.

Almost three months after Phil had last gotten properly smashed and broken down, he wandered into Dan's bar at around midnight. Dan hadn't seen him for a while, as odd as it was for them, and Phil coming around to Dan while he was at work had become even more rare.

He couldn't help but notice how good Phil looked with his hair quiffed, sleeves rolled up, the top button of his shirt undone, and his eyes sparkling. Dan was also extremely aware of how shit he himself looked.

"Hey," Phil said as he slid onto one of the barstools.

"Hi, stranger."

Phil grimaced. "I know, I'm sorry. But, the good news is that my department's work for the project is finished, so I should totally be working normal hours now."

"You're not going to leave me all by myself anymore?" Dan asked. He didn't even try to mask his excitement. It was lonely without Phil there to fill the cracks anymore.

"No, now you'll wish you changed the locks on the doors while you had the chance."

Dan laughed, but even to his own ears it sounded a little nervous and a little unsure. There was something glinting in Phil's eyes that Dan hadn't seen before.

"Can I get a drink for you? I doubt you came all this way to tell me that you were done being exploited by your company when you could have said as much through a text."

"Maybe I just wanted to see you." Phil said, leaning on the bar.

"Ha," Dan responded, copying Phil's movements, "don't make me laugh."

Phil leaned in further, close enough that Dan could smell the mint on Phil's breath and see the swirl of color in his eyes. The sudden closeness forced the air in Dan's lungs to freeze, and he was sure he was staring at Phil with wide eyes. Phil's eyebrow crinkled a little, and Dan knew it was because of Dan's self-deprecating comment.

"Would you like me to prove it?" Phil murmured, his voice an octave lower than before and fuck that made a shiver run down Dan's spine and his stomach drop to his toes. If he wasn't supporting himself on the bar Dan was sure his knees would have given out under his weight because jesus christ his legs felt downright weak.

Dan opened his mouth to try and respond, but the words didn't surface right away. He managed some garbled response, but what he even said he couldn't recall. Was it even English? He didn't know, but it made Phil laugh and lean back in the process, and with it their atmosphere from earlier returned—from wherever the hell it had gone, that is.

"I'll just have a beer, if that's alright. Nothing too fancy, please." Phil put enough money on the bar to cover his drink and Dan took it with a moderately shaky hand. He poured Phil one of the good tasting ones that people loved with his mind racing the whole while. Dan didn't know what had gotten into Phil, but he wasn't certain that he could survive a whole night of it, that was for sure.

Dan tried to pull himself together before turning back to Phil. He handed Phil the beer, determined to try to steer them both into a safer dynamic, but Phil reached forward and wrapped his hand around Dan's and the glass in the process. He held them both there for a heartbeat before taking the glass with his other hand, looking Dan in the eyes the whole time with an innocent smirk tugging at his lips.

I'm so fucked.

Phil took a sip of his beer, eyes shining, the whole interaction taking no longer than a few seconds, yet leaving Dan near floundering.

"Thanks."

"Yeah," Dan breathed, willing himself to get it together, damnit, "no problem."

~~~~~

Dan quickly came to the conclusion that Phil Lester was trying to kill him.

For one, the flirting had only increased.

Dramatically.

Dan lost count of how many innuendos Phil made, how many times he could feel or even watch Phil's gaze drag over him, all of the times that a touch lingered longer than strictly necessary.

It was confusing. Distracting. Completely...intoxicating.

He absolutely couldn't get enough.

Early on he gave up on trying to fight whatever game Phil was getting at and started playing along. He'd drop his own flirty lines and bend down a little further than necessary to reach the alcohol under the bar, fully aware of what it was doing to Phil.

They both knew they were in dangerous territory.

Did either of them care?

Dan at least didn't think so.

As people started to file out of the bar—Al herding them to the doors—Dan was incredibly aware of Phil still sitting on his stool, his chin resting in his hand so he could watch Dan as he cleaned up. They didn't talk, but it didn't feel like they needed to. The air around them was charged enough as it was; there was no reason to add fuel to the fire.

When Al was done he called his goodnight to Dan and Phil—who he knew by name at this point—and left.

Dan and Phil weren't alone in the bar for long. Or maybe they were, but Dan just wasn't paying attention to anything other than the presence of Phil.

They were outside before Dan even knew it.

He pocketed the key and turned around, all of his attention on how close Phil was and how the moonlight hit the pitch-black of his hair. For a minute they stood there, stuck by each other's gazes.

But then the spell was broken by Phil slipping his hand into Dan's and tugging him down the sidewalk in the direction of the parking lot that Dan always left his car in.

It was a miracle that Dan didn't suffer a stroke on that walk to his car, and it was even more of a blessing that he didn't crash because everything felt like such a fucking daze.

They'd never done anything like hold hands before, and Dan didn't know how to act, or what to say, or what the hell to even do.

He was completely powerless to whatever Phil had planned, and the shiver of excitement that kept running up Dan's spine made it clear that he wouldn't have it any other way.

Phil had been to Dan's flat so many times and so often that it was easier to count the times that he wasn't. He'd been there sober and piss-drunk and everywhere in between, and they all felt right. They all felt natural. This was no less right, but so much more unnatural. Here Phil was, the least drunk he'd ever been after leaving Dan's bar, standing in Dan's lounge and looking that fucking attractive, and gazing at Dan like he was that fucking attractive.

"Is this okay?" Phil asked, his hand lacing their fingers once again. Dan's mouth was dry and he felt overwhelmed, but he nodded. "How about this?" Phil questioned, his voice softening as he stepped into Dan's space, his spare hand finding its way to Dan's waist. The touch was hot, burning through the fabric of Dan's shirt and warming the skin underneath.

"Yeah."

Phil hummed in response and drifted closer until their faces were close, Phil's breath fanning out over Dan's cheeks.

"And if I kissed you, would that be okay?"

Would it?

That was a question that Dan felt like he knew the answer to, but now that it was being asked, he wasn't so sure.

On one hand, this felt like something that he had been waiting for ever since Phil had first walked into his bar. They had developed a healthy relationship over the months and months of knowing each other, and Dan loved having Phil as his best friend. However, as selfish as it was, he still craved something more. He wanted to know everything about Phil. He wanted to know what it felt like to sleep next to him, to kiss him, to wake up and see Phil right beside him, to spend their time together without worrying about if what they were doing was crossing a line or not. Dan wanted to support Phil and keep him standing when he needed it. He wanted to love him.

However, Dan had a nagging voice in the back of his head asking if this was actually right for them. Phil had been destroyed by his boyfriend cheating on him all those months ago, and he had made tons of progress, but Dan didn't want to be a rebound. He didn't want to be a fuck-buddy or a bit of worthless sex. He deserved better than any of that. He didn't deserve the heartbreak that would come with any of those options.

If this was going to happen between them, he wanted it to be real because these feelings in his chest were real.

Dan looked up, ready to push Phil gently away and whisper no, but he found that he couldn't because the look in Phil's blue eyes was the same one Dan saw in the mirror.

Dan didn't know if this was what was right for them. He didn't know what he should be doing, and he certainly didn't know if this would make or break them. But what he did know, what he was sure of, was that there was no more denying this thing between them; Phil wanted this just as much as he did.

"Yes."

Phil grinned before closing the distance between them and crowding Dan's space. Too many sensations were running through Dan's head for him to make sense of them all, but that didn't stop him from trying. He caught snippets of the feeling of Phil's lips, the heat of his body close to Dan's, the warmth of Phil's hand on Dan's hip, the texture of Phil's shirt under Dan's fingertips, and so many more.

He was incredibly sure however, that this was right.

All of the worries he had had about this thing between them were dissolving into bliss—how could he have ever doubted Phil when he was holding onto Dan like he was something precious?

Dan let his hands move from where they had been clutching at Phil's clothes to cup the sides of his face and pull him closer. That's all that Dan wanted right now—to be as close as they could.

The action brought a groan tumbling from Phil's mouth, the sound muffled from between their lips. Fuck, that was hot.

Phil's hands on his hips drifted a bit, the tips of his fingers pulling the fabric of Dan's work shirt from where it was tucked into his jeans and sliding underneath. It made Dan's mouth drop open a little, something that Phil took full advantage of. He coaxed Dan's mouth open the rest of the way and Dan let himself be utterly swept away at how good of a kisser Phil was.

"Come here," Phil murmured, pulling Dan backwards to the sofa. Dan just followed, his mouth seeking out Phil's.

Phil giggled at his antics and pushed Dan onto the couch. Dan let himself fall. Phil stood over him for a moment, just looking at Dan. The attention made Dan's heart race in a very good way, and he held his arms out, inviting Phil to join him. He readily went, their bodies slotting together in a delicious way. The weight of Phil on top of him was better than Dan could have imagined, and he let Phil steal his breath away with more kisses, their hands dancing across the skin of each other's sides.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, Daniel," Phil whispered as he kissed down Dan's neck. He sucked a deep hickey into the skin there which made Dan moan and buck his hips. Dan felt Phil's smirk.

"I've been waiting for this for..I don't even know how long at this point. You're so sweet, and caring, and attractive that you make me question my vendetta against love." Phil rocked his hips against Dan's, their clothed cocks brushing together. It made Dan gasp and let his head fall back. Coincidentally, it also exposed his neck completely for Phil. A hand slipped into Dan's curls and tugged with enough force that Dan's head craned back all the way. At the same time Phil brought his mouth to Dan's pulse point and sucked.

Dan moaned, a loud, proper one that had Phil groaning in response and pushing their hips together again. Dan's eyelids fluttered as the stimulus crashed over him in waves, and all he could do was desperately rock his hips in time with Phil and clutch at his shirt like it was his lifeline.

"Dan," Phil gasped, sounding just as wrecked as Dan, "I need to know how far you want to take this. I'll stop if you want, but I just—fuck!—need you to tell me how much of you I can have."

They were both rutting against each other, panting and sweaty and needy. Dan shook his head, trying to breathe in enough oxygen to actually articulate the half-baked thoughts running around his skull.

"All of me," Dan moaned, the words tumbling out, "you can have all of me, please."

Phil's hands gave up their timidness at Dan's words and pushed his shirt up and over Dan's head. The rest of Phil's body slid down so he could kiss up and down Dan's chest, swirling his tongue around his nipples.

"Good."

~~~~~

In hindsight, Dan might have been right to worry about things going too fast.

The next morning Dan had woken up first, his body tangled with Phil's in bed. He had also been quite sore—a bit of knowledge that made flashes of Phil above him and thrusting deep surface whenever he blinked his eyelids.

Dan blushed a little as he thought about how much they had properly wrecked each other in Dan's bed last night.

When Phil had woken up however, all of Dan's hopes for a soft and loving morning were dashed away when Phil took one look at Dan in his arms and panicked.

It took a bit for Dan to properly calm Phil down, and when he did Phil scooted far away from him on the bed. It broke Dan's heart, but he was more concerned with how Phil was feeling to address his own emotions.

Phil ended up confessing that he wasn't sure if he was ready for a relationship yet, but he wanted one with Dan all the same. He cried when he told Dan how much he couldn't stand another heartbreak like the one he'd had with James, and Dan could only hold him while he let all of his fears out.

After a few tentative hugs and a long conversation of establishing what they both wanted and figuring out boundaries, they decided to try.

They took things ridiculously slow at first, and only attempted cuddling for the first few weeks. Eventually they branched into soft, loving kisses when Phil felt ready, and stayed content like that for a while. Dan let Phil lead them into more flirty territories, and it was Phil who first instigated their first make-out session as boyfriends. They had been dating for about six months before they had sex again, but this time they were both completely sober and it was more like making love then fucking.

Dan was more than happy to watch as Phil slowly got more and more comfortable with him in a romantic sense and showered Phil in as much love and care as he could.

Phil also gave up drinking as soon as they had started dating, which was something Dan was so proud of Phil for doing. Permanently sober Phil was Dan's favorite Phil, that was for sure.

And even if their start was a little rocky they found their stride, and now they'd been dating for close to two years. They had their own apartment, and even with Dan's night shifts they found regular time to be together. Sometimes Phil would find his way to Dan's bar when he wasn't satisfied with their time together at dinner, and he would drink water or a soda and keep Dan company during his shift. Other times he would text Dan mercilessly no matter how many times Dan fondly told him that it was busy. Dan for his part would keep up with Phil while he was at the office, and had a bad habit of completely blowing up his phone when he was in an important meeting.

Neither or them would have it any other way.

Dan yawned and stripped himself of his work clothes in the dark. He had had to cover his shift for an extra hour because one of the other workers' car had broke down while they were on their way to relieve Dan, and he was dead on his feet. Dan flopped onto the bed and wrestled some of the sheets from Phil's sleeping grasp. He turned to his side and let his eyelids droop, but not before noticing Phil's arm snaking around his waist to pull him close. Dan smiled despite his exhaustion and snuggled close. Phil sighed in approval in his sleep and Dan giggled softly. He laced his fingers with Phil's and let his body relax into the mattress, content.

He really wouldn't have it any other way.

#phandombigbang #my fics #allyssaTM #phan #phanfic #phanfiction #fluff #angst #implied smut #implied/referenced cheating #minor past relationships #bartender!dan #au #tw minor cursing #there's a lot of fluff be warned #dan howell #phil lester #what a plot twist you were #waptyw

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fleetofshippyships-archive · 6 years

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Fic Writing Meme

Tagged by @parkkate thank you, love <3

What is your total posted word count on AO3? (Go to your Works, then click Statistics.)

895,278 oh man, I was soooooooo close to 1mil, but I just removed a whole fandom’s content this month and knocked myself back to this =(

How often do you write?

As often as I can, when my fibromyalgia (fog and fatigue is a bitch when trying to write) doesn’t get in the way. It’s a great distraction from my pain/other symptoms/general bad moods. It’s pretty much the only hobby I have now that doesn’t directly cause me more pain if I do a lot of it =)

If I’m in a good space, I can write every day, if I’m in a bad space yikes XD I’m lucky to write once a week.

And if I’m in a bad health space + an influx of shitty comments, I only manage to write like a couple of days out of every few months =(

Do you have a routine for writing?

Not really, if it’s a wip, I just back-read like, 2 pages or so? to get into the flow/character mindset and then I just keep going past where I stopped last time. If it’s been a few months, I might read the entirety of the wip before continuing.

If I don’t know what I feel like writing, I just open a blank doc and start writing and see where it goes. That’s often how I end up writing new ships/fandoms rather unexpectedly XD

If I’m really stuck and brain-blanking, I go looking for a line prompt to get me started, usually just the act of typing out the line prompt sets me off and I can just keep writing =)

I like listening to lyric-free music to help me focus =)

What’s your favourite kinks/tropes/pairing?

-Tropes? Hmmmmmmm I’m pretty open to most things but I think my fav trope is soulmate aus, I’m forever writing them, but I never post them because I did post a 50k drarry soulmate au once, it was like my 2nd or 3rd fic (I know I was posting it alongside Restraint back on ffnet before I had AO3 but I can’t remember which was first XD) and the comments were so awful I don’t think I’ll get up the guts to post one again for the hp fandom. Or at least, not for that pairing XD but I still find myself writing them often just for myself, and I tend to stalk the tag on AO3 for certain fandoms that always have really good ones =)

Other fav tropes: bedsharing, room-sharing, fake dating, telepathic bonds, other forms of bonding, sensation sharing

Fuck, I never write my favourite tropes, do I? XD learnt my lesson from the soulmate au I guess, getting something you love torn to shreds is fucking traumatising XD

Oooh wait, is angst a trope? cos I love that and write that a lot XD

Oh, and enemies to lovers! duh XD I forget that’s a trope.

-Kinks? hmmmmmm

I don’t really think in terms of kinks, which makes tagging a nightmare, I guess I like a little d/s but I don’t like the way most of it is written, same for dirty talk but often the language used in fics squicks me out. OH OH Exhibitionism/Voyeurism XD how did I almost forget that, one of my fav fav favs!

Hmmm I know I have more, I’m constantly writing them without realising and then losing my shit all over the place mid-scene XD

I don’t really enjoy reading smutty kinky fics unless they’re my own though, because even good tagging doesn’t rule out coming across something that squicks you and I know all my own fics are free from my squicks =) (or at least they’re written in a way that is tolerable for me XD)

-Pairing? hmmmm well Drarry is a forever fav pairing, Merthur and Spirk would be my other ultimate favs. Sheith is joining those ranks too actually.

But I’m pretty much open to all ships, and I love my rarepairs =)

Do you have a favourite fic of yours?

This changes a lot depending on my mood and the state of comments on the fics (pathetic, but true). Right now it’s my HD consent fest fic ‘In the Ways that Matter’ not only because I’ve been carrying ace!Harry ideas around for years and working on fics but being too scared to post them, but also because I’m figuring out my own place on the ace spec lately so yeah, it really means a lot to me. Doing that fest kind of gave me the push I needed to finally put one of my ace!harry headcanons out there. And it was received really well, so that certainly helps =)

Your fic with the most kudos?

Making Malfoy Blush (not available to read)

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

I suck at plot, I have so many great plotty ideas tucked away, but I can’t plan and stick to a plan and when I try I can’t write at all, since I usually write each next scene as what feels like the most natural progression from the last and plans don’t always continue to work out sooooo yeah. I tend to only write relationship fics because they suit my ‘start writing and don’t stop and think until you’re done’ style. They’re fast and easy XD

I also have a pretty limited set of vocab and I’m constantly annoyed at myself for reusing the same words and phrases. I make notes all time about words I’d like to insert into fics...but then I forget about those notes almost immediately XD

Background description is non-existent. I focus on the characters and how they feel to the exclusion of the world around them. I try and work on it, and then get distracted again *sigh* one day I’ll get better at describing surroundings. People too actually, I never really describe them either. I think part of it is my shitty visualisation skills, I can’t visualise the room they are in? or them? so I can’t describe it? I dunno, I suck at this but try my best anyway when I remember.

The passage of time is also non-existent, fuck I’m so bad at noting the passage of time. At some point I got lazy with scene changes and stopped doing lead-ins for new scenes and it’s stuck and now I always do abrupt scene changes without time reference, and even I get fucking confused about the timelines of my own fics XD

Endings. I suck at endings. Or probably more of a case of what I like as an ending is constantly getting me into shit with my readers. I need to work on writing endings that will satisfy the majority of readers. Whatever, anyone following me knows my issues with this, no need to elaborate.

Anyway, I’m forever working on all this, so maybe one day I’ll improve =)

Now something you do like?

Emotional focus and intensity (since I can’t visualise worth a damn and tend to just skim those kinds of descriptions when I read, I don’t care what room they’re in or what it looks like, I care about what they are doing and feeling in that room? Which really explains why my own written descriptions suck XD).

I like the bickering and bantering in my fics, it’s basically how I am with my friends so I love writing it and reading it =)

ANGSSSSSSSSSSST all the sweet sweet angst.

Open endings, when I’m able to detach from all the shit I get for them. I like reading and thinking about my own fics and being able to pick different future outcomes depending on my mood of the day. I have a very love-hate relationship with the endings of my fics XD

Aaaaand, I’m out of the loop on this account so I have no idea who has and hasn’t done this, so I wont tag anyone, but by all means, anyone who wants to do it go right ahead =)

#tag game #long post #*

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taesthetes · 7 years

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roulette.

noun : a gambling game of chance.

he loves me, click, he loves me not, bang.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: a sprinkle of fluff if you squint, angst type: assassin / mafia au word count: 1,221 words warnings: implied death author’s note: writer’s block really sucks, so here’s another choppy fic for the time being. thank you to @spoopyscapes for voluntarily sacrificing her man for this lmao

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

The .357 magnum revolver lays on the table between you and Jungkook. It looks deceptively innocent as one bullet is hidden amongst the six chambers of the revolving cylinder. The warehouse with your rivaling members standing around the edges to watch this spectacle for their amusement and your punishment only adds onto the ominous atmosphere, air stilled for what’s about to come. Sitting on one side of the table, your eyes graze over the metal weapon before flitting over to meet the man’s in front of you, who is also mimicking your stance but in a much more rigid form. Your leader–Irene–stands behind him as his boss–Namjoon–holds his position behind you.

“Did you ever think it’d end this way?” he laughs humorlessly, his stare boring into you with such a burning feeling that you almost look away, but you force yourself not to.

“No.” Your eyes finally move away from his, and you stare at your hands, a simple, familiar circle of metal looped around your finger gleaming back at you. You quietly wrap your other hand around it inconspicuously, hiding it from the view of everyone else.

“So I guess you’re not really a computer analyst, and those late hours weren’t from crunching numbers, were they?”

“And you’re not really an IT guy, and your late hours weren’t from fixing computer viruses, were they?”

A ghost of a smile plays on his lips at your counter, and a tiny part of your heart begs for him to show the entirety of it just this once, one more time. You start to reach out for the weapon, hand barely brushing it, but he is faster, plucking the revolver up from the cold surface and shifting it between his hands before handing it to his leader. Namjoon positions the gun against the back of your head. Your eyes narrow slightly.

“It was already in my hand.”

“You weren’t quick enough.” He gives you a careless shrug, and you’re harshly reminded of the countless times the two of you went through the same conversation over the last slice of pizza.

“Still competitive, I see.”

“Just let me have this.” There’s an indiscernible, almost desperate look in his eyes, and you nod. He gives you a tired smile.

“We both fucked up, didn’t we?”

“Maybe just a tiny bit.”

His laugh echoes around in the warehouse, and it sounds hollow and lost, nothing like the sound you’ve been familiar with for the past seven months. Your fingers itch to reach out and wrap around his, looking for a false sense of security that somehow always seemed real with him even when you knew it wasn’t.

“Are you ready?”

“Is that really going to be your first question?” You offer him a tiny smile, and the way he looks at you after is so painstakingly reminiscent that you almost surrender right then and there. “But no, I’m not.”

“I’m not either.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the soft, yet baritone sound wrapping itself around you in wisps until it’s gone, and you cannot explain the inexplicable touch of solace that somehow finds its way into your heart.

Namjoon nudges the barrel against your head harshly, unlocking the safety with a loud, resounding click, as he barks out, “Ask a damn question already or I’ll blow all her brains out right now without waiting.”

Your heart leaps to your throat– not because of the weapon, but because of how Jungkook’s eyes stare into yours with a mixture of unwillingness, desperation, and something you cannot pinpoint.

“When did you figure it out?”

You pause before answering, “Two weeks ago. You came back to bed late that night. I got up to go to the bathroom, and I found some gunpowder residue on the shirt you threw in the hamper.”

He nods. You hold your breath and pray to the every single god you can think of. Namjoon presses the trigger, a slight maniacal glint in his eyes.

Click.

You exhale, your heart racing beyond belief. Namjoon unwillingly passes the gun to your leader. Irene roughly presses the barrel of the weapon against the crown of Jungkook’s head with a smirk. “My turn to have fun with you, lover boy.”

You can see the chambers of the revolver clearly, and a fleeting moment of relief hits you when you see that his is empty for now. You don’t know if you should consider it lucky or not Jungkook picked this gun for the game. Is it considered good or bad to be able to know whether or not you will be the recipient of the bullet? You can’t even bring yourself to count out the remaining empty chambers to see who will be the winner.

You swallow harshly. “When did you figure it out?”

“Around the same time. I saw a couple empty casings when I accidentally knocked over your purse one day and tried to put everything back in it.”

Irene pulls the trigger.

Click.

She lets out a huff of disappointment before tossing the gun back to Namjoon.

“When I said I love you…”

An uproar from your and his members is heard on the outskirts of the warehouse, but Irene pulls out her firearm and shoots at the ceiling: a warning shot for everyone to be quiet. They all immediately settle down.

Jungkook’s shoulders shake, voice quivering in the slightest of vulnerability and his fringe falls over his eyes as he ducks his head momentarily. A few seconds later, he raises his head, looking you straight in the eye, any hint of a mask now gone.

“… Why didn’t you say it back?”

Your heart plummets through your rib cage and is buried six feet under. Squeezing your hands into fists until crescents form on your palms from your nails, you let out an unsteady exhale. Tiny droplets of tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away rapidly.

“Because I was afraid,” you whisper. “Because none of this is real. There is no us.”

Namjoon lets out a mirthful chuckle and pulls the trigger.

Click.

Growling in anger at the lack of blood splatter, he thrusts the gun over to Irene, sliding it across the scratched surface of the table, and she grabs it, putting it in position again once more much to her sadistic delight. You stare at the metal object in trepidation before closing your eyes temporarily as an influx of memory upon memory crashes onto you like a wave, all revolving around the man sitting in front of you.

“When you said you love me…” You open your eyes, taking a deep breath and clasping your hands tightly together, your eyes meeting his once again. “Did you mean it?”

The silence is overpowering as your question hangs in the air. A look of resignation and contentment is settling in his eyes. Confused, you search his eyes for an answer, and your gaze wanders until it finds itself fixated on the revolver, on the chambers, on where the bullet is now located.

There’s a jolt in your heart when you’re finally hit with the realization– why he suggested this game, why he chose this gun, why he insisted on going first.

The corners of his mouth quirk up slightly as Jungkook answers you softly.

“Yes.”

Bang.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

notification: it has been brought to my attention that my fic can be seen as similar to jimlingss’s fic, Russian Roulette. this was not my intention, and i did not know such a fic existed beforehand while writing this. i have talked to the writer about it, who is very kind and understanding. she is fine with my fic as the issue is due to us both basing our fics on the game of Russian Roulette, but our ways of executing the use of the same game in our fics are different. nevertheless, please read her fic as well!! it’s wonderfully written, and she sets a charged tone of emotion between the two characters so beautifully, and i love it.

#KKreationsNet #btswriters #sfwbangtan #networkbangtan #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #bts scenario #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic

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cheshirehatter666 · 6 years

Text

Perfect By Ed Sheeran(Singer!Bucky x Reader) AU

Pairing: Singer!Bucky x Singer! Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have been inseparable since he was recruited by Stark Records from HYDRA beats. Being the close friends you are everything was open to each other, well everything but your feelings. So what happens when your current relationship starts getting serious?

Warnings: most likely bad writing, swearing, kinda angst, cringe most likely, Brock Rumlow (is that a warning)

Word Count: 2626

Authors Note: This is for @your-highnessmarvel Song Challenge, and I hope to god I’m not too late.Also I’ve never really written a Song Fic so I’m sorry that this is bad.

It was the middle of the night and you were sitting on your couch eating rocky road ice-cream with tears streaming down your face as you watched Disney’s Mulan 2. Your boyfriend of 2 years who you thought loved you was just using you to get famous, and you fell for it. So now here you are watching Disney in your sweats.

You felt like sitting there forever, just wallowing in your own self-pity, that is until you heard front door open and a few seconds later your best friend Bucky Barnes appears in front of you with his arms crossed.

“Alright, (Y/N) its been 2 days, you need to stop with this.” he says with an exhausted sigh as he motions to the junk food all around you, while you just luck up at him with more tears welling up in your eyes,”But Buck, its Disney.” you say with a pout.

“I know doll, you’ve been saying that for the past 3 days, and I know you would hate to admit it, but Disney isn’t gonna work this time around.” He says sitting down and facing you “And the (Y/N) I know wouldn’t just sit here and let some guy take advantage of her, while she just sits indoors and eats her career away. i mean, come on doll when was the last time you were in the studio?”

You just looked up at him with a pout before sighing in defeat, “I know but, with whats happened I haven’t had any inspiration and I don’t want to be like Taylor Swift and use this break up as a vase for my music.” You say placing the ice-cream on the coffee table in front of you. “Let’s face it, I had a few good hits and that’s all. (Jerk’s Name) was right, I am a washed up artist at 25.” You sigh leaning back on the couch with your arm thrown over your eyes missing the completely shocked and disbelieving look Bucky was giving you. Shaking his head, he got up and stood in front of you once more grabbing your arms and pulling you up.

“Nope, I am not having some jackass make you think lies.” he tells you as he pulls you to your small backyard. Placing you in the middle he starts moving around and turning off the light in your house and turning on your fairy lights you have strung up, “What are you doing?” you ask as he starts scrolling through his phone only for (Your Up-Beat favorite song) to start playing from the blue-tooth speakers he brought out. “We, are going to help you forget that jackass and have some fun.” He says standing in front of you again, grabbing your hands and trying to make you move. “Buck, I look like a mess right now, and it the middle of the night, and I’m not even wearing shoes.” you say in vain, trying to make him stop.

“Come on doll, just dance, it will make you feel better I promise” he says as he does some embarrassing dance moves making you laugh. He continues to try and coax you to dance until you finally give in and your both dancing in the dark together. “Besides you look perfect” he whispers, thinking you couldn’t hear him, but you did.

*~Time Skip- 1 year later brought to you by Steve’s Patriotism~*

After that night, you had an influx of inspiration which helped boost your music career, and it was all thanks to your best friend Bucky Barnes. Ever since then, random dances, barefoot and in the middle of the night, became a regular stress reliever for the both of you.

The two of you couldn’t have been closer if you tried, you went to each others concerts, always gave shout out to each other during interviews, and were often photographed together, you even had keys to each others houses. Everyone thought you two were perfect for each other and they could see how Bucky looked at you. The only people who couldn’t see it were the two of you. That is until your albums release party.

You and Bucky had just walked into the club together, where he was swept away by Pepper to be introduced to some people who would help boost his career, leaving you to walk to the bar by yourself where you met the newest Artist at HYDRA Beats, Brock Rumlow, also known as the punk rocker Cross Bones.

“So, Congratulations on the new album” he said lifting his whiskey towards you in a toast. You looked at him with a small smile thanking him after ordering your drink. “I didn’t think HB was going to be attending after what happened with Bucky” you say turning to face him in your seat.

“Well I was advised to stay away, but, eh, who doesn’t like taking a walk on the wild side” he said with a smirk. You smirked back and the two of you began an easy conversation.

Bucky was now talking to Steve after getting away from Pepper, looking around for you discreetly, or at least what he thought was discreet. “So, when are you gonna confess to (Y/N)?” Steve asks as Bucky was taking a sip of his drink, making him almost choke. “What?” he sputtered out in between coughs.

“Come on man” Steve began while patting his friends back, “Everyone sees the way you look at her. And you can’t pretend you weren’t just looking for her just now.” Bucky tried denying the accusations thrown at him, but he just gave up and agreed with his friend. “It’s not like she feels the same way. We’ve been friends for so long I think I’ve missed my chance.” He said with solemn look on his face.

“Are you really that dense?” Steve asked incredulously “If anyone has a shot with her its you.”

“You think so?”

“Yes, now go get your girl!” Steve answered pushing him away, Bucky just stumbled with a laugh and nodded, heading over to the bar where he found Nat and Wanda “Have you girls seen (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, she just left with HB’s newest artist Rumlow.” Nat said drinking her whiskey, seeing Buckys face fall.

“They’re probably just getting some air” Wanda rushed out trying to make him feel better, and it worked, until he got a text from you.

“Met a cute guy ;) Don’t wait up- XOXO (Y/N)’

*~Time Skip- 4 years later brought to you by That Gossip Girl Reference~*

What Bucky hoped was a one night stand, wasn’t. Over the years you and Brock had held the medias attention, being considered the it couple in several magazines, the modern Romeo and Juliet, minus the death. He was happy for you, but couldn’t shake the ache in his chest every time he saw you together. You both still had your midnight stress reliever, but it was less frequent as the years went by. Being busy with both of your careers you rarely had time to hang out and the one time you did Bucky was left heartbroken.

You and Buck had made an arrangement to meet every Sunday for Lunch, and at this day Bucky decided to confess his feelings for you before you got even more serious Brock, only for you to ruin his plans.

As soon as you both were seated you blurted out your news “Brock proposed.” You said seriously, not excited as most girls would be. Over the years you were happy with Brock but couldn’t shake the feelings you had for your best friend, never wanting to admit it and ruin your friendship. You stayed with Brock because you did love him but your weren’t in love with him, but you thought it was already too late to be with Bucky and you were to scared to make that leap. So here you were at lunch with your best friend waiting to see his reaction. And all he did was stare at you and go “Oh”

Looking at him expectantly he coughed and asked “What did you say?”

“I...um... didn’t answer him. Well... I did its just that.. I asked if I could think about it.” You said looking at him expectantly, not really sure what kind of reaction you were looking for. Outside Bucky looked indifferent, but on the inside he was slowly breaking. Looking at your expectant look he answered the way any good friend would.

“Well you should say yes, you love him, he loves you. You should say yes, as long as you’re happy I’m happy.” He said with a shrug looking down at his menu. You just looked at him with a sad smile, “Okay, I guess I will” And your lunch went on in silence.

After that day, you and Bucky never really saw each other, you being busy with wedding plans and Bucky busy with avoiding you. Don’t get him wrong he was happy for you, but he was heartbroken. He threw himself into his music. The months went by in a flash until the day you received the RSVP’s for the rehearsal dinner and wedding, seeing Bucky’s as a maybe for both.You had heard he was busy, but you never thought he’d miss your big day. You wondered what hes been up to and went online to search him up. Seeing hes been active putting out new singles you listened to a couple. When you got to one song he sang as a duet with Nat. Listening to the lyrics you almost cried. Your feelings for Bucky never left even though you weren’t as close as before, but hearing him sing with Nat made you believe they were good with each other and seeing the gossip articles about the two being together made you feel as though you missed your chance even if you were currently with Brock the spark, was way gone but there was no turning back.

The day of the Dinner Rehearsal arrived and Bucky was no where in sight. Sighing you just faked a smile as you greeted more guests.

Seeing Steve you walked over and for the first time in hours you placed a genuine smile on your face “Hi, Stevie” you greeted happily giving him a huge hug. “How’ve you been?”

Smiling back at you he answered with a sigh “Tired, Buckys been quite the busy artist”. He was Buckys manager, so it was strange to see him here instead of Bucky. “Yeah, I’ve heard. So whats with him and Nat.” you asked innocently. Not

“Nothing” he said with a smirk. “Why?”

“Nothing I just heard their latest duet, and I haven’t seen him lately.” you answer acting as nonchalant as possible. “That song is really romantic, I just thought he wrote it for them.”

Steve was baffled by that statement “Have you not heard his speech during their concerts, (Y/N) he dedicates that song to you on the DL” it was your turn to be shocked but before you can answer the dinner is about to start and Steve excuses himself to his seat as you go to yours still in shock. As the dinner progresses you can’t help but think over Steve’s words and actually thought about the lyrics. Looking around at the table of guests as Brock makes his speech thanking everyone for coming you can’t help but feel like this is wrong, you didn’t want this. Looking up at Brock you took his hand making him stop abruptly and look down at you. And all you could do was say you were sorry and run out of the building, leaving your ring in his hand.

Bucky was getting ready for his last song of the night, it was the duet with Nat, and every time he sang it he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Today was your wedding day and he couldn’t attend it because watching you walk down the aisle to someone who wasn’t him would kill him, so he missed it figuring you were happily on your way to your honeymoon, with you new husband. Glancing at a old picture of the two of you he smiled sadly, getting up to get on stage as a stage hand told him 2 min.

Walking out on stage with Natasha he began the first lines of there very popular duet.

I found a love for me Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead

He sang thinking of you as he twirled Nat around like they rehearsed. This was the song that let him poor his soul out for you without actually telling you.

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting for me 'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love Not knowing what it was I will not give you up this time But darling, just kiss me slow, your heart is all I own And in your eyes, you're holding mine

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark with you between my arm. Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favourite song. When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight

Looking at Nat to sing her part he was confused as she just smiled at him looking at where the spotlight pointed at the walkway looking into the crowd. He stood breathless as he saw you standing there with a smile on your face as you sang the Natasha’s part.

Well I found a man, stronger than anyone I know He shares my dreams, I hope that someday we'll share a home

You slowly made your way towards Bucky never breaking eye contact.

I found love, to carry more than just my secrets To carry love, to carry children of our own

Hoping this was a good idea you continued your slow trek towards him.

We are still kids, but we're so in love Fighting against all odds I know we'll be alright this time Darling, just hold my hand Be your girl, you'll be my man And I see my future in your eyes

Finally you were standing in front of him looking into his eyes as he stared into yours you reached out for his hand. Your smile growing bigger as he grabbed your hand with smile of his own.

Well baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, while listening to our favorite song When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight

The two of you began to sway on stage like it was just the two of you in your backyard. Bucky didn’t understand it, why were you here? He was happy to see you of course but he was confused. Shouldn’t you be with you new husband. Looking up at him, you whispered before the next part “I didn’t go through with it” Looking down at you he smiled wide the next part of the song becoming more intimate.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms Barefoot on the grass, while listening to our favorite song I have faith in what I see Now I know I have met an angel in person And she looks perfect And he looks perfect No I don't deserve this You look perfect tonight

As the last chords played Bucky and you stood in each others arms foreheads touching with smiles on your faces, completely deaf to the cheers from the fans as you whispered to each other at the same time.

“I love you”

A/N: So I apologize if that was bad. I feel like it was, sorry that it was all over the place. And yes I did use HSM 2 in there. Honestly I wish this went a different way I’m sorry if its bad. I might rewrite this for fun but IDK yet I may need to plan a bit more. But even so please reblog and like and PLEASE give feedback, nothing negative only constructive and nice ones please. Thank you @your-highnessmarvel for allowing me to sign up for you wonderful challenge.

#Queensongchallenge #Singer!BuckyBarnes x Reader #Fluff #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #Avengers Au #perfect ed sheeran #beyonce #Bucky #James Buchanan Barnes #angst #sorry terrible writing #song fic #first time #Brock rumlow #marvel

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deansleather · 7 years

Text

In Love With You

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Prompt: Can’t Help Falling in Love- Haley Reinhart for @wildfirewinchester ‘s Birthday Challenge!

Summary: After being saved on a rogue demon hunt, you feel a sense of comfort residing with Sam at the bunker. As your feelings start to strengthen, you can’t help but wonder; can something real be built off all your lies?

If you’d like to join any of my tag lists please message/ ask or add yourself to my google doc tag list! Whatever is easiest for you!

Word Count: 2888

Warnings: fluff and angst, tragic past and dark thoughts of reader (inferred thoughts by actions, could be triggering for some), despite all that still v lovey

A/N: I’ve missed my Sammy! This fic definitely has some angst, but I do feel it’s quite romantic all the same. I hope you enjoy! And, of course, FEEDBACK IS SOOO VERY NEEDED AND APPRECIATED! EVEN JUST A LIKE MEANS THE WORLD!

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', myHandler); function myHandler() { var v = document.body.innerHTML; var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; v = v.replace(/\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, input); document.body.innerHTML = v; } // ]]>

“No one ever fell in love gracefully.” ― Connie Brockway, The Bridal Season

With labored breath, Sam finally managed to spit out the exorcism chant. The demon had picked one hell of a vessel, seeing as both the highly skilled Winchesters were exhausted by the end of their fight. Halfway through, they were tempted to just kill the damn demon, vessel or no vessel, and call it a day. Sam was quickly thankful that was not their decision. The black of the demon quickly flowed out, pouring into the ground with a sense of finality. Sam looked to Dean uncertainly when a smirk came over your features, as opposed to the usual look of terror after an exorcism was successfully completed.

“I figured someday I’d come across the Winchesters,” you teased. “Yet somehow this wasn’t how I’d imagined it.”

Sam’s head swiveled from you to Dean, completely thrown off. “You’re a hunter?”

You shrugged. “Part-time. I’m obviously not serious enough to get an anti-possession tattoo.”

“…But you’re serious enough to be in the midst of a demon brothel take down?” Dean shot back, his arms crossed.

“More like bored enough, but essentially yes.” Both the brothers just stared at you. “Look, this place is like ten minutes away from my family. I’m just in the hunting world enough to know about the happenings. Trust me, I would have loved to have been able to ignore this. Ignorance is bliss and all. I know you two understand.”

There was silence for a moment, before Dean let out an impressed laugh, looking to Sam.

“Well, damn,” Dean snorted, looking you up and down. “Aren’t you something.”

You smiled, but were quickly distracted by the pang in your stomach. Being possessed was hardly a pleasant thing, but it was definitely memorable. You remembered the demon entering you, the feeling of its damned “soul” bumping into yours, the stress as you watched the Winchesters struggle by the actions of your own hands. Blood soaked through your shirt from your fight with Sam and Dean, the cut deep enough to make you weary, but not enough to keep you down.

“She’s hurt,” Sam whispered to himself, rushing to you just in time to save you from your own weak knees. Your faces were mere inches apart, and you prayed to whatever higher being there was that you didn’t faint.

“Hmm,” you purred, feeling as your eyes drooped. “You must be the pretty one everyone always talks about.”

Sam laughed, gathering you entirely in his arms with ease. “That’s probably Dean, but I’ll take it.”

You looked to the shorter brother and back to your current knight, feeling a resounding injustice in that fact. “I don’t know about that.”

“Ouch,” Dean huffed, trailing behind Sam and you. “If you weren’t obviously delirious, I might be offended.”

You smiled softly, your vision blackening more and more. “I just have a thing for hair, is all.”

The words just escaped your lips before your vision went entirely black, your body going limp in Sam’s arms. The last thing you heard was Sam’s panicked tone before going into a deep sleep.

You woke up in a simple bedroom, the blankets tucked around you softly, the open door letting a very dim light in from the hallway. You tried to sit up, but immediately gave up that plan. Your head was swimming, your entire body weak. Fighting monsters wasn’t new to you, but there was something seriously disconcerting about being possessed. The feeling of hopelessness, the complete lack of control, the disgust at what your own body was doing; it was a lot to just brush off. Then your mind wandered to what it usually does when you think of hunting; the Winchesters. They had been possessed and beaten and sent to hell, and were still standing. If they could do it, so could you.

The thought comforted you, until you remembered that they were the last people you’d seen before blacking out. Confused, you rubbed at your eyes with a slight moan, reaching one arm out in hopes of finding a light. Your hand felt up a night stand, reaching until finally you clicked on the table side lamp. You blinked at the sudden influx of bright, turning your head away to recover. You were hurt more than you had thought. Gentle footsteps sounded down the hall, but you were much too weak to care.

“Oh,” the voice said, stopping at the door frame. “You’re awake. How’re you feeling?”

His voice was unbelievably gentle, his expression one of complete concern. You blinked, attempting to clear your vision. He held a tray in his hands, the flannel of his shirt rolled up his arms and his hair wildly pulled back. He was disheveled and worried, yet entirely beautiful. You mustered what you could of a smile.

“I’m alright. Glad to see you instead of some demon.”

Sam laughed softly, placing the tray on the stand beside you. “At least I’m a bit better than those.”

Looking at him strangely, you began to question him, but he cut you off before you could.

“I brought you some soup. It’s just the canned stuff, but it’s all we had and I didn’t want to leave you here to go get something better.” He shuffled slightly, tugging his hair out of its ponytail nervously. “You’re at our bunker. We have some…connections that, uh, can help heal you.”

“The angel, I’m guessing?” You raised an eyebrow. He nodded, that lovely smile of his shining at you.

“Yeah, Castiel.” He sat down at the foot of the bed as you scooted to a sitting position, placing the tray on your lap. Gently and slowly, you placed a spoonful of chicken noodle to your lips. Sam cleared his throat.

“Well, I guess we should properly introduce ourselves. I’m Sam, and that was my brother Dean you saw before. Him and Cas are out looking into the source of the brothel.”

You nodded, taking in another spoonful before responding. “I’m Y/n.”

Sam took out his cellphone, quickly placing it on your tray as well. “I’m sure you’ll want to call your family and let them know you’re okay.”

You looked at it for a moment, a feeling of dread in your gut. “Uh… well they didn’t know I was going to hunt, so it’s probably for the best I don’t make them worry. I don’t live with them anyway, so they won’t notice for a while.” The words left a bitter taste in your mouth, making you push the entire tray away for fear of getting sick. Or, even sicker, that is.

“Alright,” Sam said, that note of worry returning. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

You shook your head, but panicked as he started to leave, tray in hand.

“Wait!” you called out. He stopped without thought, turning back on his heel to face you. “I…Can you stay? Please? I just really can’t be alone right now.”

Sam’s eyebrows crinkled at your words, yet he placed the tray back down returned to his place at the foot of the bed. You shook your head, patting the area beside you.

“C’mon,” you smiled. “If you’re going to be stuck in here with me, you might as well get comfortable.”

He smiled back, again obeying your request.

“Hey Sam,” you murmured as he finally relaxed.

“Yeah Y/n?”

“Thank you so much for helping me. I…I really need it right now.”

He rested his head against the bedframe gently, stretching out his legs beside yours. “No worries. It’s not bad for me to get some rest either.”

You looked around the room, noticing very little of Sam within it. There was the closet filled with flannel, and the gun resting on top of a dresser, but other than that it could have been any average hotel room. The bed was comfortable, but hardly lived in. You wondered if the Winchesters ever really got to sleep.

“Is this where you live, or do you just pass through here?” you asked softly, afraid to entirely disturb the peaceful silence.

“We hardly stay at any place long, but this is the closest thing to a home base besides the Impala,” he responded, his tone hushed, mimicking yours.

“Don’t you ever feel…lonely?”

Sam was silent for a moment, nothing but the sounds of breathing filling the room. After a bit, he finally responded, still in that soft tone.

“Yes and no. I mean, I have Dean and Cas, and they’re family and always will be. But sometimes…I don’t know. I just wonder sometimes if there’s more out there, you know?”

You nodded, your eyes tearing up slightly. ”Yeah, I get it Sam.”

“What about you? I mean, by the sounds of it, you seem to have people to go back to.” His question was sincere, he could have no idea how much it stung.

“I suppose,” you finally muttered, letting your eyes close. “I think I’m gonna nap. Would you just stay till I’m asleep?”

He nodded, patting your leg gently. “I’ll stay as long as you want me.”

You opened your eyes long enough just to see him blush at his forward statement, before letting yourself drift off, with a strangely content smile on your face.

Weeks passed quickly in the bunker, Sam leaving your side only when a hunt called. You healed without incident with Castiel aiding you, though you still felt the resounding discomfort of having a demon once inside you. You bonded with all the boys, began to care for all of them individually, in different ways. You felt for Dean, understood his mindset, wanted him to find some peace someday. You doted over Cas, feeling a strange sense of motherly instincts over the sometimes-naïve angel. Most of all though, you bonded with Sam.

You learned how he liked his coffee in the morning, watched how he would gently flick each page of the book he was reading, listened to his off-key humming that he thought no one could hear. He was sweet and soft and warm and the closest thing to sunshine you would ever be able to touch. You wanted his safety at all costs, prayed he could find happiness, and most of all…you loved him.

It felt strange ever thinking it, but it was true. Somehow, within a matter of a few months, he had become your main reason for living. In that way more than anything, you could relate to Dean. Strange as it may be, you had become a part of the backwards family, yet could never fully let yourself belong with them. It felt so wrong to add yourself in with these people who completely opened their arms to you, when you had never offered up any true information about yourself. It was a crime and a sin, yet the thought of leaving was unbearable.

The same thoughts swam through your mind on repeat, but you brushed them off as you made breakfast. The boys had just gotten home from a four-day hunt, and were particularly exhausted. You decided they deserved a little pampering; besides, if you were going to live there rent free, you might as well help them out.

You made up Sam’s coffee in his favorite way, copious cream and scant sugar, and began your way towards his room. You finally managed to convince him to take his bedroom back, seeing as you were no longer in need of a comfortable bed to get well in. It took a lot of back and forth and stubborn statements, but finally you were able to get your way.

You stopped just outside his door as you heard a soft conversation going on. Ever-so-quietly, you peeked in. Sam lied in bed with Dean sitting near his feet, mirroring you and Sam on your first night at the bunker. Sam rubbed his eyes, shaking his head at whatever Dean had just said. You knew you shouldn’t be creeping, yet you couldn’t pull away.

“Sam, it’s not like you’re forcing her to be here. She’s choosing to stay. Is that not enough of a hint?”

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam refuted. “We’re definitely not ‘part-time’ hunters. I don’t want to drag her deeper into this if it’s not what she wants.”

“That’s what comes with being with us. She’s heard the stories, she knows.” Dean shook his head, sipping the pure black coffee he had gotten himself earlier. “I say you go for it. I gag each time you look at each other, which is a good sign for you.”

“You think she feels the same?” Sam asked genuinely, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“Jesus, you’re dense,” Dean muttered. “Obviously, she does.”

Your stomach was filled with both knots and butterflies. Finally, you could take it no longer, and knocked lightly at the door. Both the boys startled at your sudden presence.

“I brought you coffee.” You held up the cup, giving a half-hearted smile. “Hey, Dean, you mind giving us a second?”

“No problem, sweetheart,” Dean consented, grunting as he stood up. “I think I’m going to spend a little time in bed myself.”

You smiled sympathetically at Dean as he passed you, the hunt taking a larger toll on him than he was willing to admit. Once he was gone, you entered into Sam’s room silently, shutting the door behind you. You placed the coffee on the stand beside him. Gingerly, you spread out next to him.

“Thank you,” Sam said shyly. You nodded. “Listen, Y/n, I don’t know what you heard but if anything made you even slightly comfortable I’m so sorry-“

“No, no, no,” you assured, placing your hand over his mouth before he could continue. “It’s just… I need to tell you something Sam.”

Sam looked at you seriously, his brow furrowing in the typical Sam manner. “What is it, Y/n? Is everything okay?”

You swallowed. “Do you remember the night we met, when I said I was there to protect my family?”

Sam nodded.

“I was lying. It was all a lie. And so was the whole ‘part-time’ hunter thing. I’m more like a wannabe-retired-hunter.” You sighed, rubbing your face roughly, garnering as much strength as you could to continue. “My family died a few years ago in a hunt. It was demons, a whole bunch of them. I don’t know if they just didn’t notice me or what, but I was the only one who lived.”

“Y/n,” Sam’s voice was thick with emotion. “I’m sorry-“

“I’ve done everything these past few years to get the same fate as my family did, even burning off my god-forsaken anti-possession tattoo. So, when I went out that night to ‘protect my family’ against those demons, I wasn’t protecting anybody. I didn’t even want to protect myself, at the time. I wanted to leave my house that night and never come back.” You chuckled to yourself. “In a way, I guess I got what I wanted, just not how I planned.”

The room was heavy with silence as you both digested what you had said. You felt a huge weight off with the secret revealed, yet your stomach was sick with the thought of what may come next.

“I guess what I’m saying is, there’s no way you could ruin my life Sam. There’s no way you could drag me into the world of hunting, because I’m about as deep into it as one can get. The only thing you can do is make my life better, less lonely, and you have done that more than I will ever be able to express or thank you for.”

“Y/n,” Sam finally murmured.

“Yeah Sam?”

“Can I tell you something?”

You closed your eyes, bracing for the worst. “Yeah, whatever you need to say.”

“I’m in love with you.”

You remained tense for a moment, before the words finally sunk in.

“What? Sam, I’ve been lying to you for the entirety of our time together. I don’t deserve love, and certainly not from you.”

“We were strangers, how could I expect you to tell me your whole life story on the first night? Y/n, I don’t care what skeletons are in your closet or what past you’ve had. All I know is I’m falling in love with you, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t help it.”

You grinned slowly at him, a shocked laugh erupting from your lips as the words finally began to hit home.

“Oh, Sam,” you whispered, wrapping your legs gently around his waist until you were straddling him. “I love you.”

With a feeling of joy completely foreign to you, you grabbed Sam’s face in yours and brought your lips together, his warmth sending shivers through your body. You let yourself drown in the moment, forgetting the secrets and the hurt and the past, letting the safety and comfort of Sam’s arms around you and lips on yours be the only thing on your mind. After a few moments, you pulled a way, your breathing slightly efforted.

“Guess this means we don’t have to fight over the bedroom anymore,” you teased. Sam rolled his eyes, laughing as he pulled you back in for another kiss. For the rest of the night and every night after, his arms never ceased from wrapping around you, his love always there, even in your darkest moments.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tags: @jarnesbrnes @spnashley @aprofoundbondwithdean @mrswhozeewhatsis @mysupernaturalfics @waywardlullabies @teamfreewill-imagine @lucifer-in-leather @sunkissedsam @chaos-and-the-calm67 @purgatoan @stardustsam @secret-stashes @supernatural-jackles @peppermintbisexual @winvhesters @nerdwholikesword @frenchybell @feelmyroarrrr @obsessedwithmisha @thinkwriteexpress @wanderingcas @diestiel @kittenofdoomage @fandommaniacx @trinityjadec @hanny-banannyyy @nothingtoworryaboat @growningupgeek @d-s-winchester @mysteriouslyme81 @jensen-jarpad @deathtonormalcy56 @jpadjackles @mogaruke @satans666thdaughter @bobbysingerismybaby @keepcalmandcarryondean

Sam Tags: @captain-princess-rose @ophcelia @thing-you-do-with-that-thing

Michelle’s Sam Tags: @mrswhozeewhatsis @vintagevalentinexx @theficlibrarium @blushingsamgirl @bowtiesandapplepie @itsemmyb @ezauraemmaline @matteson-crazed @castielspahdehrah @beriala @charliesbackbitches @crzcorgi @ellen-reincarnated1967 @gryffindorable713 @gryffindorable713 @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @mrsjohnsmith @manawhaat @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @i-never-said-a-pilot @thewinchestielboys @supermoonpanda @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel @fandommaniacx @meganwinchester1999 @kittenofdoomage @samanddeanwinchester67 @prettyxwickedxthings @ferferelli @lilyoflothlorien @myfand0msandm0re @olitzisbae @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls @shortandlongstories @strange-inhumanity-blog @ackleslaugh @noisilyyoungpuppy @fangirling-instead-of-working @hellbentcrowley @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @roxy-davenport @chrisatplay @kayteonline @spnsimpleman @faith-in-dean @kreborn17 @mamaimpala @for-the-love-of-dean @winchesterfiesta @zanthiasplace @sleep-silent-angel @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @curliesallovertheplace @jencharlan @not-so-natural-spn @skybinx-blog @thebunkerismyhome @feelmyroarrrr @winchesters-princess @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @tia58 @sunriserose1023 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @jotink78 @everyday-supernatural-af @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @supernatural-jackles @babypieandwhiskey @mysaintsasinner @chelsea-winchester @spn-fan-girl-173 @wheresthekillswitch @shelovesallthethings @iamreadinginsecret @revwinchester @klaineaholic @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @supernaturalismalife @pinknerdpanda @inmysparetime0 @hexparker

Pond’s Sam Tags: @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @blushingsamgirl @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @wildfirewinchester @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @idreamofhazel @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @revwinchester @ageekchiclife @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bohowitchysoul @clueless-gold @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business @writingbeautifulmen

#Meg’s Birthday Challenge #wildfirewinchester #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #not marvel #spn #mine #trashyfamilynet #mattcohenssspnfam #ultravioletcasfam #princesscasfam #deathfam #sinnerfam #octospnfam #astralisfam #jenmishfam #stardustfam #mishacollinsappreciationnet

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vonseal · 7 years

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what im weak for this week

SOOOOO i haven’t done one of these in almost a month! i think it’s high-time to get back on track again! hopefully i can come out with the next one on the 11th instead of a month later.

this is long. like srsly long. like wow. it took me an hour. i could’ve written a whole fic.

call me maybe by shinigamibutter

i’ve got this weird thing with library aus. i love them. maybe it's because libraries are elusive and mysterious to me now (i checked out a book back in middle school, i still have it on my bookshelf and im too scared to return it), but they’re something so nice about libraries. also there’s something so nice about SOCKY and MYUNGJIN and BINU all in one lil fic, holla for a dolla! this is really nice and cute and i loved reading it! <3

out of my league by koutarous

BINU!!! DRINKING TOO MUCH (bad bin)!!! i loved this prompt and @shouldveheldon did it so much justice, it’s unbelievable how good it is (but i’ve never been disappointed from her writing). the set-up is good and even if bin should lay off on the alcohol a bit, at least it got him a cute guy’s number, AMIRITE.

i’ll pick the white and fluffy clouds from the sky for you by spaceviolet (vividplum)

did you guys know im a fan of the cute fluff? did you guys know im a fan of the socky? did you guys know im a fan if you combine both those things? heck yes man, this combination was so amazing and perfect. ALSO, ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP??? im in, im so in.

Does Lonileness Ever Truly End? by MidnightsDeath

i should stop writing angsty stuff bc people take it as inspiration to make even angstier stuff and then im all sad and depressed lol. especially WHEN I STARTS HELLA CUTE WITH MYUNGJIN. thank you for writing this, and thank you for making me cry and ruin my makeup haha.

(my) hot antagonist by rubanrose

we’ve been getting this nice influx of moonrock here lately, and seal approves. i mean, tbc was basically moonrock (did you see the way bin smiled when he brought up rocky???). ALSO ANOTHER ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, YES. and just moonbin and rocky being cute dorks together and making my heart die of fluff, wow <3

you captured my heart by binubin

some people say that the fake boyfriend au is overdone. i say it’s UNDERdone. like, seriously, i love the idea of people pretending to date and then legit falling in love (the proposal is one of my favorite movies if you guys wanted to know), and WOW IM SO HAPPY THIS ONE EXISTS! bin is a photographer and dongmin is a (un?)willing subject, and i just want you guys to read it. it’ll be six chapters of awesome sauce.

home is wherever the heart is by diametrical

NO GUYS YOU DONT UNDERSTAND THAT DOMESTIC AUS ARE JUST THE GREATEST!!!! AND MYUNGJIN???? DOMESTIC???? wow, just shoot me now, @leedeermin, bc you stole my heart already. i thought nothing could top binu domestic au, BUT THIS DID (mostly bc myungjin > everything for me, im trash, send help). thank youuuu for this, it’s all i needed in life

i get to love you by asteraa

aka, lanna still tryin to make up for making me sob over trains to busan au. well it worked. it worked so so so well. and the song choice for the end I HAVE IT ON MY PHONE BC OF THIS NOW WOW i get emo over it thank you so much. this is all around just funny and cute and heart-wrenching and fluffy and perfect.

moving on by slaymyseoul

your username conveys perfectly what you’ve done to me, @slaymyseoul: you slayed my soul. slayed it hard. slayed it nasty. and then you acted all happy in the end notes like you didn’t just slaughter a thousand hearts all at once. this binu just...all 700 words of it just ruined me for the rest of my life. you’re such a good author and it shows in my tears.

baby by beifomg

tbh now all i can think in my head is BABY whenever they call each other that, bless astro and their bitchin tunes. NAH BUT THIS FIC is so pure??? so so so pure and i just wanted to touch the screen and somehow lengthen the story with nothing but this pure moment between eunwoo and binnie. at least im so happy this was created, it’s perfection.

Let's go on an adventure! by Rach4040

BINU!!! CUTE BINUUUU!!! also rulebreaker binnie and SUDDEN RULEBREAKER EUNWOO??? i love the idea of cute, romantic teens going off in the middle of the night just to be cute and pure and getting back home in the morning and knowing they won’t get any sleep and will be utterly exhausted all day, but it’s worth it because they love each other AND THATS WHAT THIS IS!!! it’s so cute, gosh golly.

rock show by roobix

i know a few people wanted bartender jinwoo, which i might still write, but i think this one is even better than what i could ever do. it was so short and i longed for more BUT MAN what we did get was fantastic (and made me imagine bartender jinwoo, haha yessss)

oh, the stars shine by parkjinchu

the stars shine for @parkjinchu and HER BEAUTIFUL FICS!!! i missed her writing in the lull after the year we met (go check it out, go check it out on her page, wow i cry), but she’s back with DOMESTICCCCC (im so happy with all this domestic we’re getting) JINCHA!!! why is there not more jincha, they work so well together. (i’d write it but also im myungjin trash, i cant escape my hell). also cute new parents peeking over a bed at their fragile baby just warms my heart (also, relatable, how do you touch a baby without breaking him)

summer paradise by aseuteuro

nopenopenopenope. i shouldnt recommend this, so dont read it unless you want to cry at work like seal did (not safe for work, bc you CRY). it’s binu and i sorta expected it to be happy despite the angst warning in the tags (im not smart, i dont claim to be intelligent) but it WASNT, it just RIPPED MY HEART OUT, HOW DARE

colour me by heybinnie

i will be honest, i dont normally read reader-insert fics like this, but i thought, “it’s @heybinnie and she’s perfect so i bet it will be perfect.” guess what? it was. it was so dreamy and beautiful and breathtaking, and i seriously cannot wait to figure it all out! (JINWOO SELLS DRUGS, PASS IT ON)

flytrap by tinytaeil

MYUNGJIN, i thought. METAPHORS, i thought again. BEAUTIFUL WRITING WOW IM JEALOUS, i thought once more. and then it ends with my cries, why can’t jinwoo just LOVE and have HAPPINESS, why this, why the poor fly, why the amazing description and flowing narrative??? tbh, i think this fic was a flytrap.

forbidden love by jiminaddiction

MORE MOONROCK! look at us getting blessed with all this moonrock. i love this one a lot bc minhyuk is deaf and bin is colorblind, but WOW they’re so adorable and blushy around each other! each chapter that comes out makes me so happy and excited, and i can’t wait for more of it!

Loop by ContraryNonsense

WOW MAN THIS IS SO INTRIGUING!!! i dont read tags, tbh, i just click at this point when i see the description, so i didn’t expect the ending to the first chapter (then i read the tags and thought, “gotta trudge past the angst to get to the happy ending.”) and we’re ALMOST THERE!!! ONE MORE CHAPTER!!! definitely read this, pls do so, it deserve so much more hits than it’s got.

where soil lies, a new beginning blooms by @vocalpmh

THIS WAS INSPIRED BY WITCHCRAFT WHICH>????? how did i do anything to deserve this amazing piece of perfection??? i still read it a lot, it’s one of my go-tos when im feeling down, and im so blessed you gifted it to me, i just absolutely ADORE this fic. pls pls pls read, it’s pure and perfect myungjin (also butt groping, my legacy spreads)

breadtrayed by @glowingjinjin

that pun. get in my home, lanna, i need your puns. i think we had a discussion bc i actually dont like bread all that much but NO WHAT HAS BREAD EVER DONE TO ME??? or to eunwoo, who apparently can find time to bag up a bunch of bread, what a great boyfriend.

a love stronger than furniture by @glowingjinjin

stop writing funny fics to make up for train to busan, you can’t replace my broken heart. IDK THO THIS CAME CLOSE TO DOING SO!!! everything about it was perfect, and you’re so amazing with writing these cutsie fics??? (and then you’ll turn around and rip out my heart, i know you will)

witch coven au by @astrofireworks

i still havent read the newest addition, but i have it up right now to read after i post this. i love your imagination. i love your ideas, i just need to tap into your brain and steal some of this brilliance, thank you very much

UPDATED FICS FROM LAST WEEK MONTH??? -

because of hani by gachigallae - have i mentioned how much i love these kids and domestic stuff??? because i do, i truly seriously do, and i love this fic and bin’s affection for dongmin’s daughter is so cute

5+1 by heybinnie - this makes my heart wrench, but in a good way, and makes me realize how fantastic of a leader jinwoo is to these boys.

stray romance by alette - @alette-stars done did it again, stole my heart and made binnie and dongmin both all so jealous, wow this is cute

medley by sassysavagesanha (RedJusticeLibra) - QUEEN OF SOCKY!!! MORE SOCKY FOR ME!!! more socky for you if you click right now, guaranteed you’ll enjoy it

short moments by Mieun (snowsketch) - i love these cute little movements, and new chapters always make me so happy, especially the myungjin in the last chapter!

inked by jinwoosmile - i figured you out, @jinwoosmile. you tryin to get me to cry. and you succeeded, congrats, you can stop bashing my heart apart now.

leave me dreaming by desiderate - im hooked. im so so so so hooked and idk how it’ll end but im so anticipating whatever happens because it’s such good writing so i know it’ll be fantastic (even if i’ve been so sad with this lol)

the language of flowers by birdbrainberke - I LOVED THIS PROMPT so obvs i love this fic, especially bc it’s @payneinthearsenal, who really knows how to write amazing fics.!!!

and if you ever have anything you think i need to check out, hit me up with that fic, fams. i dont even care if it’s your own. i check a03 regularly, so if it’s something posted elsewhere, pls let me know!

#what makes me weak this week #i started full time hours and my brain has been mush so this is a month late oops #i'll stay on track from now on

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phan-of-the-pen · 6 years

Text

I Dare You To Stay - Chapter 13

Yes! It’s finally here!! After literal weeks of me writing and revising!! After a lot of writer’s block!! After deleting like half of it and then rewriting it!! It’s finally here!!! Enjoy!!! @dansyellowshirt

Tags for chapter: fluff, themes of verbal abuse, protective!phil, some angst

Words for chapter: ~4.6

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<– Previous chapter Next chapter -->

~~~~~~~~~~

Dan was not happy.

In fact, he was fucking pissed.

When he and Phil had finally parted ways, Dan had walked into the coffee shop in absolute bliss. The shop looked to be in the process of being half-open when he entered, most of the lights being on and the self-serve bar already filled. Jaime wasn't anywhere to be seen, though Dan could hear the sounds of someone moving in the back. They were probably out of cups again.

While he waited for Jaime to resurface from the supply room, Dan tied on his apron and pinned the name-tag to his chest. He was starting to set the register for the day when he heard steps behind him and the closing of the heavy supply door.

"Jaime, you'll never fucking believe what the hell happened, I-" Dan started, turning around to face his best friend with a huge grin on his face. Jaime wasn't the one to stumble out from the supply door, though, and Dan could feel his happy mood shatter as none other than Steve surfaced, accompanied with an impossible amount of things in his arms threatening to spill over any second.

Instantly, Dan's smile crashed and his heart dropped to his toes. Fuck….where the hell was Jaime?

"Would you stop staring and give me a hand? It's bad enough that you're late to work anyways." He grumbled, his frown already deepening. It was like Dan's presence was just...sucking the life from him.

Dan could say the same.

He didn't immediately move to help due to equal parts of reluctance and utter surprise at seeing his prickly coworker instead of his Jaime. He jerked into action however when a bag of coffee grounds decided to kamikaze off of the top of the armload of things Steve was carrying, scooping it up before it could touch the ground and depositing it onto the counter.

"Oh, that's all you can carry, huh?"

Dan turned, a scowl on his face that matched Steve's perfectly.

"Sorry, but I was a little thrown off to see you here instead of Jaime. You could have just taken a second trip, you know."

"Yeah, and you could have just shown up when you were supposed to. Besides, Jaime said she told you we were working together, so that's bullshit."

Dan wanted to scream and they hadn't even opened already, one, because of Steve's asshole attitude, and two, because Jaime didn't tell him, but he just clenched his jaw and turned back to the register. He could pull a shift with Steve without knocking the guy's teeth out, he's done it before, he can do it again.

Maybe with a miracle, Dan thought as he heard Steve stumble through starting the many coffee makers, grumbling to himself and making a mess that Dan would surely have to clean up.

He was restocking their supply of change in the register a few moments later and feeling a tad bit better about the situation—assuming they would both be able to just keep to themselves the whole shift—when something was thrown in his direction, hitting the side of his head and making Dan drop all of the coins in his hands onto the floor in surprise. The coins scattered in every direction and Dan swore loudly, looking up at Steve with murderous eyes, one hand coming up to his temple where whatever Steve threw at him had hit, even though it hadn't particularly hurt. Steve met his gaze with a mildly surprised expression—complete with a raised eyebrow—and shrugged.

"Didn't mean to hit you in the head, but I can't help but notice your...well, hair. I don't think my uncle would want his business represented like that, so, put the hat on."

Dan glanced down to see one of the coffee shop employee hats crumpled on the ground. They were only required to be worn to pull an employee's long hair back and were otherwise completely optional, so Jaime and the other part-time girls that worked here were the only ones that really bothered with them. Dan flicked his gaze back up to Steve and glared with all of his might, trying to just murder the guy with his eyes.

"I've never had to wear one before I don't see why I have to now." Dan ground out, his jaw clenched.

"To my knowledge, Daniel, you've never decided to dye your hair before, so I guess this is a new experience for all of us." He responded, his voice dripping with distaste.

"What about Jaime's hair, huh? You've never said anything to her about her dyed hair so what's the big fucking deal with mine?" Dan shot back, his temper rising faster than he would have liked. His anger flared even further at being referred to as Daniel. Steve knew perfectly well that Dan didn't like his full name.

"She wears a hat, does she not?" Steve quipped.

Dan narrowed his eyes, but he didn't really have a smart-ass comeback for that because she did, it just wasn't because her hair was more red than a cherry was, but because of its length.

Not that Steve would fucking acknowledge that, though.

"Exactly." Steve said after Dan didn't immediately respond. "Put on the hat. And stop swearing."

Dan was about ready to explode, but this asshat's uncle was his boss and owned the whole damn shop and Dan barely had enough money as it was working as much as possible on a decent pay grade, so he really didn't need to get fired and have to work at minimum wage at some grocery store. Not to mention he would have to move or work roughly nonstop to pay his bills at that much of a pay cut.

So in the effort of his future, Dan bent down and picked up the hat, fitting it over his straightened hair with as much distaste as he could manage. Steve smirked and turned back around to continue beginning to brew coffee.

Angry and sufficiently humiliated, Dan shuffled about on his hands and knees, picking up all of the coins he dropped and sorting through them to put back into the register. They didn't say anything to each other, but then again words weren't needed to be able to feel the tension and utter hatred in the air between them.

After that, they finished the chores that they needed to accomplish without anything else being thrown or spilled, even if the split was uneven and Dan ended up doing the most of them. They opened and worked side by side in relative silence, serving a wide range of coffees in a short amount of time with a very abrupt influx of customers. The only thing that broke the monotone between them was the passive-aggressive bullshit Steve pulled. It was little shoves and almost-trips as Steve passed Dan, making Dan's blood rage in his ears because there was no way that he could go to his boss about this—Steve had his uncle wrapped around his little finger. God, he fucking hated Steve.

When Mary popped in not that long after opening, even she easily picked up on his sour mood.

"Why the long face, love? Is it because Jaime isn't in today?" She asked him, after exchanging their normal pleasantries.

Dan didn't really get the chance to answer before Steve was walking past him as Dan was in the midst of making Mary's coffee, bumping Dan out of the way. Dan hissed as some of the scalding hot liquid splashed up on his hand, pulling his hand away immediately on reflex and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth where he licked away the coffee and tried to sooth his skin. Dan lunged for the sink, turning on the cold water and thrusting his hand under it, breathing out a little in relief as the frigid water rushed over it. The skin where the coffee had made contact with was red and angry, throbbing and still hot to the touch when he dried his hands off. Dan bit his lip and gave Mary a sheepish almost-smile as he threw out the ruined coffee.

"Don't worry, I'll have another one for you in a minute." he muttered, already starting to make it. He was favoring his right, non-burned hand because his left ached something fierce, but it was fine. Everything was fine.

Mary, however, was frowning.

"Daniel slow down, I'm not in a rush. And please, for heaven's sake stop using your hand! You just burned it! Why don't you take a break and find a bandage for it, hun?" she cried shooing her hand at Dan from behind the counter as if to make him stop working herself.

Dan chewed at his lip again, a nervous habit he picked up years ago. He could technically take a break any time he needed if he was injured, and there was definitely a first-aid kit in the employee break room, but then again, Steve would probably give him hell over taking an unscheduled break, if anything call up his uncle after their shift and give him an earful about Dan "being clumsy" and "costing the business money". He looked down at his hand and noted the aggravated skin and dull pain, and decided he could make it until lunch. He could properly address it then—surely a few hours without care wouldn't be catastrophic.

"If you keep it up like that then you're only going to injure yourself more. Besides, I need to give that other young man a talking to that was no way to act." Mary continued, huffing and already looking past Dan as if she was trying to find Steve and chew his ear out for being a douche. The mental image made Dan smile, and he turned his attention back to her as he took his injured left hand off of the coffee machine.

"Hey, it's no problem, I've burned myself before." The last time being back during training, probably. "And don't worry, Mary, we've got bandages in the back." That Jaime would 100% let me go get, the only problem being that Jaime isn't here. "I'll fix myself up after I help you with your coffee." A few hours later, that is, but who's counting?

Mary didn't look convinced, but only set her lips in a tight line and watched carefully as Dan finished making her her replacement coffee like she would vault the counter and help him herself if Dan so much as injured himself even a tiny bit further.

After another stern warning to take care of himself and a death glare in Steve's direction, Mary shuffled her way out. Dan gave her a little wave and kept the small smile on his face until she was gone. However, immediately afterwards he let his smile slip and double-timed it over to the little door that separated the public from where the employees made coffee. He passed Steve, and when he gave Dan an incredulous look, Dan just pushed past him, giving him a bullshit excuse of needing to go to the bathroom.

And, technically, Steve couldn't complain about that, so, fucking suck it, Steve.

Dan shoved the door open with his shoulder and let out a breath of relief when there turned out to be no one else in there. He went immediately to a stall and locked the door, sitting on the toilet seat and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it, and before he could google information on burns via coffee, his eyes caught on several text notifications.

>> From: my maraschino cherry

hey dan, look i know this kind of sucks but im kinda having a crisis? u remember that acting role i was going for right? well i got a call-back (!!!) and its in a few hours and i cant come in to work today

i tried to sweet talk the boss into it NOT being steve but idk if it worked

also

answer ur phone stupid i didnt want to type all of this

plus i might have wanted to gush with u via phone but whatevs

anyways im stopping by on my way back later like probs around dinner so u know my pizza toppings and we're going to iron shit out we've got a lot to talk abt danny boy

(also get some ice cream in case this doesnt go well kay ty)

The timestamp read to be somewhere around the time that Dan got up this morning, so as it turned out, yes, Jaime did tell him that she wasn't coming into work today, and he would have known that if he had only looked at his damn phone.

Dan read over the texts again and felt his heart surge for his best friend. Jaime had wanted to be a thriving actress since she was three, and so far had only gotten as far as school plays and extremely minor parts in bust shows. It was a dream that the both of them shared, but unlike Dan, Jaime was still going for it.

She auditioned for every opportunity that she got. Movies, plays, shows, anything. Sometimes, like now, she would get call-backs, but more times than not she wouldn't hear anything back. It wasn't because of her lack of talent, but mainly due to large productions looking for people that were already known, as much bullshit as it may be.

Dan remembered this one that she was going for. It was a musical that had so far received decent press and attention, and if Jaime could land a significant part in it, it could potentially help her career as an actress take off.

Smiling widely, Dan typed out a few texts congratulating her and wishing her the best of luck even if by now she would probably be mid-audition. He also readily promised the pizza and ice cream, but not after making sure to tell her that she wouldn't need it, because she was going to do great.

Dan looked at the clock on his phone, and sighed before slipping it away. If he spent any longer in the bathroom, it might start to look a tad suspicious to Steve, so he might as well avoid the WebMD diagnosis of his death-via-coffee-burn until lunch.

He exited the stall and caught his own eye in the mirror, fixing his blue hair under his hat so it didn't look too much of a mess before slipping back out of the bathroom and returning to his position behind the counter. Steve was in the middle of making a frowning CEO-looking guy his coffee, and there was luckily no one else in the queue.

"About time you got back. Damn you take longer than a girl." Steve muttered just loud enough for Dan to hear as he passed him. Dan bristled, but like normal didn't say anything back. He just took a deep breath and smiled at the mum and her young kids walking through the door and up to the register.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

~~~~~

"Dan, why don't you make yourself useful and go wipe down the counter, yeah? My uncle isn't paying you to stand around and do nothing all day."

Gritting his teeth impossibly hard, Dan stomped over to the counter in question (that he had cleaned twice already today, and it was barely even noon), both of his hands in tight fists, one of them strangling the cleaning rag.

The few moments of calm and secondhand happiness for Jaime that he had had in the bathroom ended up carrying him over for an hour before he just sunk right back down to his previous state of miserableness from before. But that was a few hours ago. Now, he was seething and tired and about ready to snap.

He started to hate-clean the self-serve counter, roughly putting things back where they went after he wiped the surface down, and refilling the sugar so aggressively a uni student veered away from him with wide eyes.

Dan didn't give a flying fuck, he just wanted to go home.

He was nearly finished when a hand touched his arm. Immediately he tore away from the hand and threw down the rag, spinning around and already opening his mouth to just fucking scream at Steve because damnit Dan could take the verbal abuse but he would bring hell before he let Steve put his hands on him. He nearly choked when he found Phil standing there with concerned eyes, his hand still outstretched from where Dan ripped away from it.

"Dan?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting together, "Are you okay?"

The fight in Dan just...drained out of him and he let out a deep sigh, feeling his shoulders droop and head fall. He ran a hand through his hair and gripped at the strands, messing it up and rucking up the hat on his head.

"Yeah I just…" He let the words fade, not even having the energy to try and come up with a summary of his morning brief enough that wouldn't worry Phil further.

Phil looked like he wanted to wrap Dan up in his arms and Dan honestly would have welcomed it, but in the universe's normal fashion, the chance went up in flames with a shout from Steve behind him.

"Dan, I'm going out for a cigarette, take over!" Steve called, not even waiting for Dan to acknowledge him and making straight for the door outside after walking right past the massive line of people waiting for service.

Swearing under his breath, Dan rushed past Phil to get behind the counter, helplessly giving Phil an apology over his shoulder.

By using probably all of his luck for the next year, Dan was able to give the half a dozen people in the queue their coffees without spilling a single one of them and in a relatively timely fashion, only one of the customers becoming annoyed with the slower than normal service.

That's what happens when there's only one person working the counter, asshat.

Dan ran up the latest person on the register and automatically started to run up another sale when someone else stepped up to the register. Dan put the money he had been handed from the last customer in the register tray as he half-heartedly greeted whoever was in line now.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

Out of the corner of his eye Dan saw the cleaning rag he had completely forgotten about and left behind plop down onto the counter and held back a sigh. If he was going to have a customer chew him a new one for accidentally leaving a rag out he was going to quit on the spot.

"Yes, I need you to take a break."

Dan breathed out as he recognized the voice. Phil. Of course, always Phil.

Dan laughed a little.

"If only, Phil."

"Dan…"

The tone of Phil's voice made Dan look up. Phil had the same look as before, but it was darkened by anger. Dan felt his stomach drop. Was Phil mad at him for something? What did he do?

Dan must have been too exhausted to try and mask his emotions because Phil sighed and grabbed Dan's hand over the counter.

"I'm not mad at you. Is that 'the guy' from earlier—the asshole Steve you were telling me about?"

The feeling of Phil's thumb dragging over Dan's knuckles was normally so soothing, but Phil had grabbed Dan's left one, also known as the hand that Dan had aggressively burned earlier thanks to his wonderful coworker. Hissing under his breath as Phil's gentle touch sent pain shooting up his arm, Dan withdrew his hand hastily. Phil looked hurt and surprised, but his gaze fell on Dan's burned hand and his gaze once again darkened. Dan wanted to cry but instead just shut Phil down from asking about it by hastily replying.

"Yeah. Jaime's at an audition, so she's not in today."

The bell above the door ran once again, and Dan pulled away further, reluctantly ready to deal with more customers. However, Steve walked through the opening, and Dan wasn't sure if he was more relieved at the prospect of not having to fill another order, or resigned to the end of his brief break from Steve.

Phil, however, brightened immediately and plastered on a fake smile.

"Ah, you must be Steve! Cool, Dan can take his lunch break now that you're back." And before Dan could try and tell Phil that that really wasn't how things worked, Phil was already reaching over the counter and stealing Dan's pin and apron, shoving them into Steve's arms with a bright smile. Steve sputtered, protesting, but Phil just straight up ignored him, turning to Dan and beckoning him. In a sort-of daze, Dan followed, and once he was out from behind the counter, Phil grabbed his non-burned hand and pulled him out the door of the coffee shop.

Phil gave Dan's hand a squeeze and looked back at him, his eyebrow once again knit and frowning. His eyes roved over Dan's frame, taking in his exhausted stature and overall ragged state of being. He frowned further and reached up, plucking the hat off of Dan's head.

"You shouldn't hide your hair."

Satisfied at the moment, Phil's attention shifted, and he hailed a taxi, opening the door for Dan and sliding in next to him, leaning up and telling the driver an address that Dan didn't quite hear before settling back into the seat. He draped his arm over Dan's shoulders and pulled the younger man into his side. Dan went willingly.

"Phil, where are we going? I'm still going to have to get back for the other half of my shift." He muttered, trying to will his body to relax.

"We're going home to my flat because you need a break. And don't worry, I'll have you back, but not after you get in some proper rest."

Dan tried to protest at that, because really, Phil didn't need to spend the money for a taxi just for a half and hour before Dan would have to go back, but Phil wouldn't hear it, just shushing him every time Dan tried to point out how they could have just stayed at the shop and that he wasn't worth the trouble.

"There would be no way that you could properly relax while in the same place as him. And besides this saves me from getting arrested for assault and buying a coffee just to dump on his head." Phil glowered as if the mere thought of Steve upset him, and Dan laughed, imagining passive Phil dumping a coffee on anyone.

"Don't laugh, someone has to defend your honor, Dan."

"Well thanks for assuming I have honor, you spoon," Dan laughed, bumping their shoulders together playfully. He still felt tired and drained as hell, but Dan felt a little bit better than he had been. Progress.

They were at Phil's flat in no time, Phil paying for the taxi despite Dan's protests and leading Dan up the steps afterwards.

Phil's flat was just as it was when Dan had last been in, and Dan kicked his shoes off at the door like he had last time before flopping face-first on the couch. He heard Phil move around in the flat for a few moments before Phil returned to the lounge. Dan didn't lift his head up from where it was shoved into the couch, but he did relax, even as Phil rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Can I see your hand? I have a bandage and some cream that should help you."

Dan wordlessly lifted his hand up, unsure of where Phil was standing over him since Dan was trying very hard to become one with the couch at the moment, but Phil just grabbed his hand by the wrist as gently as possible, leading it over and resting it palm down on Phil's knee. Curious, Dan unburied his head from the cushions and turned it. Phil was sitting on the table, a look of careful and intense concentration on his face as he grabbed the tube of cream, squeezing some out onto his fingers and massaging it into Dan's skin. It didn't hurt—Phil was too gentle for that—but Dan could still feel his face heating up and his breath catch a little.

It had been awhile since he had been treated like something precious.

He watched as Phil worked, and laughed as Phil rubbed the excess cream on his fingers onto his jeans with a grimace. Phil grabbed the little roll of gauze and started to wrap up Dan's hand, glancing up with a pout.

"Here I am, sacrificing my jeans to make you feel better and you're laughing at me. Remind me why I love you."

The comment was a passing thought, obviously not meant to be taken with too much weight, but it still had Dan's heart skip a what was probably a few beats in his chest. He knew that Phil didn't mean it like that, but the notion that he did still warmed Dan's body all over and had him smiling as he watched Phil bandage his hand.

When Phil was finished, he dropped a kiss onto Dan's knuckles.

"There we go, all better."

Phil left everything on the table and stood, walking out of his lounge and to his kitchen. Dan could hear him shuffling about—opening cabinets and rifling through the contents in his fridge.

"I've been putting off a trip to Tesco's for about a week now, so how does unhealthy snacks sound for lunch? Or we could always venture out and try to find something?"

Dan smiled even though he was alone in the lounge. Phil was offering up the opportunity to have a legitimate meal, but didn't he know by now that Dan would much rather hole up and eat junk, just the two of them?

"Bring on the snacks, Lester."

Phil came back with an armful of various snacks, and Dan peeled himself up off the couch so Phil didn't have to sit on top of him. Dan cheered when he saw that Phil had his favorite flavor of crisps and stole them from Phil with a wide grin. Phil pouted—or at least tried to—but Dan could see the smile peeking out as he turned on the TV. Phil flipped through the channels until they found a movie on that was worth watching for the little bit of time that they had until Dan had to get back to work, and settled back, sneaking a few crisps from Dan while he was at it.

They're sides were pressed completely together with how they were sitting, and even if he ended up getting a few stains on his shirt because he couldn't be bothered to get up and grab a napkin, or whining when Phil dragged him out of the flat and back to work, or pouting in the taxi ride back to the coffee shop, Dan was still soaking up all of Phil's time and attention, loving having him near enough to hold his hand and kiss him.

Dan ignored the glare from Steve as he walked back behind the counter, even shooting the guy a smile as he fitted the hat back on over his hair.

"You can take your lunch break now, thanks for covering."

Steve looked insanely suspicious and overall pissed, but Dan didn't care. His spirits were renewed and he felt refreshed. He could last the rest of his shift, no problem.

Dan smiled at the lady walking up to the register.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

#phanfiction #phanfic #dan and phil #phan #fluff #angst #ace!dan #weatherman!phil #protective!phil #dan howell #phil lester #i dare you to stay #i dare you to stay: chapter 13 #chaptered #allyssaTM #my fics #au

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