#just two chicks loving each other while falling from the sky while one is naked

[anamiableavocado]

[thelemmerpie]

You look at your watch, and the same question since the beginning of the school year crosses your mind.

Why having classes on saturday morning?

Everyone is tired, except the teacher. Everyone will have to work this weekend. Students never have a vacation, only stolen time paid from sleepless nights.

Whatever. Since you know Mandy, your saturdays to you two are as free as possible and almost nothing prevents you from seeing each other. Every week, you end up in your favorite italian restaurant for a dinner, often accompanied by a night of pleasure in your flat, or hers. Even if it's still impossible for you to live with each other, spending the weekends together is not uncommon. So much that she has clothes and toilet stuff in your appartment, and vice versa.

You thought about her face floating above a table, lit by candles. It perfumes your spirit and you quickly forget the courses. Gracious, her smile revealing so cute dimples, her long and willowy hair tumbling down like a waterfall made of the most sleeked mirror on her oppulent chest, more or less revealed according to her mood...You're already on a cloud only by thinking about her. The day is beautiful, your eyes closes while you're smiling, and nothing can lift you out of your contemplation.

-Mr. Johnson seems already on weekend. Unless he's still in dreamland?

Almost nothing. The comment is as striking as a bucket of iced water. You turn your head to the old vulture who serves as a teacher. The bun as tight as her thin pinched lips, she looks at you with eyes ready to throw lightning. You stutt.

-Sorry mam'. Tiredness.

-Think about sleeping at night, young man.

As if you could afford it...This first year of master's degree in plastic arts, sculpture course, is more exhausting than expected.You wish you could rest your head every night on Mandy, which is impossible. Since she obtained a bachelor's degree and works on the other side of the city, she had to take a flat. You, you stayed on the campus. Life is good inside it, but not as much as with her.

The rest of the class is deadly boring, but you strive to make as many notes as you can. Finally, after what seems like hours, the old harpy frees you by asking you to return a project for the next time.

You turn on your phone and the notifications appears. Mandy sent you a text. You open it right away, hoping for a soft message to wait until tonight.

"I'm sorry, I have to cancel dinner tonight"

A fleeting moment passes, then an immense disappointment falls like a hawk on his prey (and on your heart. And on your libido). This is not the first time that one of you cancels at the last moment, but it's always unpleasant. Nevertheless, you decide to not hold it against her, even if it saddens you.

"Too bad :'(  All you alright? I miss you so much ".

The answer doesn't take long to arrive.

"Yes, I'm fine, but I really cannot go out yet."

She doesn't give you more details, which worries you a bit. Usually, you immediately tell to the other the reasons for the cancellation. You are puzzled, but you trust her and don't insist.

"If you need anything, I can go to your house tonight. Shop, or anything else. What about pizzas and a movie on the TV ?"

"Yes ! That would be wonderful, and much better ! If I can't go out right now, I can at least let you in ~~ I'm sending you a list."

It's autumn, but the heat persists and the blue sky makes you want a sandwich. You would like her to be there, by your side, lying in the still soft green grass, but she never liked the heat for a simple reason : finding suitable clothes to go out in such heat is almost impossible. Not because of being overweight, no. At least, not all over her body. It's a very local overweight: a macromastia.

As a teenager, her chest was already growing at an impossible rate. At 17, she was competing with the most buxom models you'd ever seen. Since then, her chest continues to grow steadily. Every four months, she is forced to buy new bras. Whole boxes of old underwear hang around her house.

She learned to do with it. As soon as she's back home, she unravels the torture instrument to free her chest. If it excited you at first, it fast becomed as common as taking off your shoes. Ignoring her chest is clearly impossible, especially when it jumps in all directions. But the moments you prefer are those quite ones where you are together to the couch, watching TV while behaving and more if you're in the mood. These moments are still too rare. You hope this will change one day. In such a big city, your respective obligations separates you and if you get closer, it would be your obligations that would be too far from you.

You sigh. In just over a year, you'll be able to live together. Her father has promised you a job in his molding company, and he already considers you two as married. Maybe you'll even be able to take up his business later. A clear path, a good job, a dream girlfriend, and a lovely family in law. It's well worth it to endure on saturday mornings with the vulture and work like a madman.

You finish your sandwich when your phone vibrates again. It's Mandy. A short list is displayed. She doesn't need much : food, some medicine...And new bras.

There, you frown.

She bought some two weeks ago, and they were already costing a fortune, in addition to being horribly uncomfortable. Having a big chest is considered as chance, but the bad sides can be counted easily : besides the expensive and inconvenient underwears, you can cite the look of others and the lustful solicitations from complete strangers when you go out in the street.

And yet, you've never seen her complain. No back pain, a body of foolproof flexibility, and an amused satisfaction when she surprises the eyes of others dive into her deep cleavage. She likes to seduce as well, but has always looked for someone who would consider her as something much than a toy for a titfuck. Her breasts didn't leave you indifferent, but you quickly became interested about her to the point that even naked, you can discuss with her as when she wears a triple layer of thick clothes, in autumn and winter, the only seasons where she can go out without problems. Her two favorite seasons have quickly become yours as she feels comfortable.

And yet, what a pair !

You could carve it from memory on pink marble, with all the details that her body offers. Round, no, a little oval. Glossy, smooth, plumped in her clothes, looking like a silicon bag that other women implant themselves. Except that she's natural. It's so unlikely that many people find it hard to believe, at the point that "fake boobs" yeled loudly always been an insult. Harassment, she knows that. But she has always been proud of her body, and you have always been proud of her. People talk, you live your love, that's enough for you two.

You keep thinking about your sculpture. Her tits would be nothing without gravity, of course. A challenge, to account for a chest so beautiful, so full, but that falls so little. Languid into the lustiness of her own pleasure, as she is after love. She's like her chest: proud, but so smoochy when she loves...

And the nipples, of course ! Small, discreet, as cute and innocent as infants. Two small chicks hatched by two aerolas, soft hen mums. Everytime, you vacillate between kissing them softly or sucking them. Everything in her is so perfect that to soil her would be a crime, if she wern't agree to welcome you near her and into her.

Nevertheless. New bras just two weeks after buying other is strange. Have they broke ? With a chest like hers, nothing surprises you anymore.Those before were worse than grandmother's bras. Thick sackcloths, oversized sports bras, with braces stretching out day after day, until her breasts overflowed and compressed her too much. A sexy photo later, you left to buy others. Shopping with her is always a pleasure, even if shops providing sizes at her convenience are increasingly rare.

You call her, and her voice soon rings in your ears.

-Hello, Danny ?

-Mandy, sweetie, I got your list. Had you not...already bought new bras recently?

It still gets you to be embarrassed to talk about her breasts, sometimes, and you must carefully prepare your words in order to not blush. You prefer to look at them and touch them, in silence, without any other noise than her pleasure moans.

-Sorryyyyyyyy ~~ . But I can't do otherwise. I can't go out with the old ones, it's getting worse and worse.

-Better and better, you mean ?

-For you, yes.

-And for you too. I know you love your breasts.

-Stop, she said, laughing. Or I could cancel the pizza tonight.

-You wouldn't dare !

The indignation in your voice is falsely exaggerated, which makes her laugh once again.

-If the handsome and brave knight carries out his mission and goes shopping, maybe the princess will send him a foretaste of what awaits him...

-An antipasti before the pizza, hm? I'll be curious to see what you're making...

-First, shop. I will prepare everything for tonight.

You're about to say goodbye to her, when a genius idea comes to you.

- What if I buy candles?

- What for?

- You know...candlelit dinner?

- For delivery pizzas ? No thanks. And then, I'm lazy to do the dishes. They have grown so much that I start having back pain...

-Really? In this case, prepare your oils for a long and good massage.

You hear hear murmuring with satisfaction.

-Very well, brave knight. If you manage to kill the hunchbacked dragon, the princess will offer you more than an antipasti.

-It's a great honor you give me, my lady.

-Come on, hang up. The shop will not make it himself.

- See ya, sweetie.

-See ya, cutie.

You hang up, a smile on your lips. Never in your life had you had such spars with anyone before. Each of her words brings you joy. Hurry the day you move in with her : your happiness will be complete.

But now, groceries. Your phone is vibrating again. It's a text sent by Mandy.

"I called Georgina this morning, you just have to take the package and pay. It's a huge lucky break, she has just renewed her supplies and agreed to take back those of two weeks ago. I will repay you".

The advantage of being a loyal and regular customer for out-of-the-ordinary clothing is that the ladies around the globe forms a small private club where they can discuss and exchange advice and services. The shop she usually goes to is far away, but it's a warm one and the woman who holds it is super great. Georgina, the manager, is a little old woman as wrinkled as an apple and had the same chest problems. She quickly decided to help women like her. If the bras remaines expensive, she gladly takes over the old ones to retouch them. She's even made customized tailor-made. But as long as Mandy's breasts will continue to grow at a breakneck pace, it will be useless and she clearly told you that : "I should take new measurements immediately after my work is done. I'd never seen that ! Go on like this, my little one, and congratulations, young man ! "

The shop bell tolls when you enter into it. Some times later, Georgina comes out of the back shop and greets you, delighted as you go forward the sale desk.

-Ah, Daniel ! I received Mandy's message. This girl beats all records, I made a new storpile just for her ! Only two weeks, and you'd think she took six months all at once !

-Thank you, Georgina, this is the first time that happens ...

-Tell me about it ! I've never seen that ! Fortunately, I have a good contact in England. Tell her to slow down, she never listened to me! It's not like you're not already happy with what she have, huh?

You try to show a neutral face, as every time Georgina talks about your relationship. Some grandmothers are discreet, but the old seamstress would be able to collapse buildings just by talking. Like every time, you fail and can only display a shy smile.

- I'll tell him, thanks. How much do I owe you?

The old woman sweeps the air with her hand and rejects the imaginary money.

-Nothing ! We'll see that when she returns the others. Knowing her, she didn't even touch it. She made her measurements, but I put her several sizes just in case. She will only have to bring me back as soon as possible.

-Thank you so much for your generosity. Without you, we don't know what she would do.

-Bah, we have to stick together! It was even worse when I was young.. Corsets that choked you even more than the things I'm selling today ! I say, I can't wait the day we can go out without it, half naked, like you men, without being attacked at every street corner! It's not Mandy that would bother ! Beautiful melons as big and as firm as the pectorals of my late husband !

You agree, but you don't know what to say. You may have an empty look, because Georgina allows you to leave.

-Ah, you men ! Go find your beauty and make us beautiful children, it will make my pleasure !

-Yes Ma’am. Thank you Ma’am.

You leave the shop, a second opaque plastic bag in your hands. Even through it, you can feel the fabric of the cup. The more Mandy's breasts grow, the less they seems thick, padded, comfortable. As for the shoulder's straps, they must be tight to cut off her skin. You can't wait the day she'll be able to wear custom made bras for her ease. You send her a text.

"I have groceries and bras, Georgina didn't charge me and she added several sizes just in case."

The answer is quick to arrive.

"Really ? Wonderful ! I'm gonna jump on her neck when I see her. How long before you get in?"

"An hour, I just went out"

"Too looooong..."

You strat to write, but another one appears.

"Here's a little something that will make you want to come even more faster..."

A few seconds later, your reward appears on your screen. It's been a while since you're used to her chest, but your mouth is opening and it takes little to make you drool.

She never sent photos of her completely naked, preferring provocation in exciting clothes. Sometimes she sends you her pretty face. Sometimes full body in a simple, wise, accompanied by her long hair that always makes you fall in love with her when you gaze at them. This time, they are tied over her head, revealing her neck, shoulders and thin arms. She seems to come out of the shower, a few drops still bead of her soft skin A new pair of diving breasts, with monstrous cleavage, overflowing beyond a towel about to explode.

You totally understand the need for new bras. At sight of the nose, only the widest will fit.

And sh's only 21 years old. And she has not finished her growth yet.

In size, yes. Not in cup size.

A new text appears.

"Have you choosed your pizza yet ?"

"I don't know, I'm in a mood for a snack right now. A stuffed sandwich, if you know what I mean ;-)"

“I thought you was in a romantic mood ? Candles of for lightning, not for BDSM, we agrée ?”

"You're impossible, as your jokes"

"No, I'm real. Why don't you touch me, if you don't believe ? I'm still waiting for my brave bra knight ;-) ".

The bus is here. You close your phone, ranks right at the bottom of your pocket so that no one can suspect your activities, and you sit down in a quiet corner. 

Something tells you that you will not have time for eating tonight.

__________

Model is MandaDawn, on Patreon and Onlyfans. That photo is clearly not the best, from two or three years ago when she was on tumblr, but I don’t know why, it inspired me with the force of a train. I barely touched her story since her breasts are effectively still growing, for an actual X cup.

[hisunshiine]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

♡ 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘬𝘰𝘰𝘬

♡ 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴

♡ 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

♡ 𝘸𝘤: 3343

an: commissioned story

Walking up the stairs to your best friends’ apartment, you hang your cape over your shoulder, defeated. Waiting patiently as Namjoon unlocked the front door, Jungkook shuffled side to side, just as upset as you, the evidence written across his face. His signature bunny smile, nowhere to be found, was replaced with a pout fixed on his face as he followed you into the apartment while Namjoon struggled to get the key back out of the golden deadbolt lock.

The sound of shoes being slipped off filled the silence along with jangling keys and the low murmur of curses followed by a soft exclamation of joy as Namjoon shut the door.

“I’m sorry babe. I didn’t know  it was cancelled. I didn’t check my email before we left...”

You tossed your purple cape over the couch and got comfy in your favorite spot.  Tucked into the left corner of the couch, your sheer pantyhose legs crossed, you dropped your head onto the back rest of the couch and attempted to look at Namjoon still in the entryway. Dressed up as Thor, his arms flexed nicely as you watched him put his shoes on the rack by the door, grown out blond hair falling in his face.

“Joonie, it’s fine. I don’t blame you. I’m just sad we didn’t get to show off our hard work.” You gesture at your outfit, Raven from Teen Titans, and shrugged. Left in just the black long sleeved leotard and hosiery, you sigh. 

“Poor Kookie here has been doing pushups and crunches for the past two weeks so that he could pull off a gladiator from 300.”  You turned your gaze to Jungkook, perched on the barstool next to the kitchen counter, elbow braced on the table to hold his head up as he sulked. “Nice job by the way, you got a lot of looks when we were walking up to the convention center.”

He laughed, shameless as always when showing off his beautifully built frame.

“Hey, I think the woman with the baby stroller really enjoyed the view.”

“I would hope so, she damn near tripped over her own child breaking her neck to stare.”

You lean up as Namjoon makes his way over to the couch, your eyes following the way his well-built body moves in the ludicrously tight Thor outfit. 

“What can we do to make it up to you? We rarely get a day off like this, all together.”

He was right. Adulting had made the time spent with your best friends almost nonexistent. Attempts to hang out, all three of you, rarely went off without a hitch; with Namjoon receiving calls from the office about accounts in progress, or Jungkook having to go in to work with the local sports team as their trainer during both on and off seasons, and you working your 9 to 5. It was stressful.

“Honestly, just spending time with you guys is all I need.” 

Namjoon lifted your legs to sit next to you, placing them in his lap as Jungkook jumped up and grabbed a dusty, small box off the living room bookshelf. An old deck of Uno cards that you all used to stay up late and play in college is tossed onto the coffee table while Jungkook’s feet carried him to the kitchen, where he grabbed a few beers.

“For old time’s sake?”

——————

Uno had turned into Strip Uno quickly, once you all were a few beers deep. The opaque green glass bottles were set off to the side of the coffee table as the three of you sat around, tipsy and half naked, laughing at each other. 

Jungkook had been the first one to lose an article of clothing, his Leonidas style crown tossed on the other side of the couch with Namjoon’s discarded cape. Namjoon followed suit with his costume shirt being next to disappear from his body. The males’ losing streak ended when you were the unlucky one to lose a large item, your black leotard. It wasn’t long before Jungkook, who had already been shirtless, had lost his roman gladiator skort, and Namjoon’s pants made it onto the clothing pile, leaving the three of you sitting comfortably in half-nakedness.

“God, I can’t believe we used to really trade girls back and forth, hyung.” Jungkook was laughing as he remembered some of their crazier antics, which you knew all about as their best friend. You’d even walked into some compromising situations once or twice, and saw exactly what each of them was working with below the belt.

“I can, man, we were insatiable. Fuck, we still are Kook, don’t act like just because we’re working now crazy shit still doesn’t happen.”

Namjoon’s eyes were low, the alcohol in his system making him feel nice.

“You’re right,” Jungkook giggled, face red from intoxication, “just way less often. It’s been what? 4 months or so? We need to throw a party or something.”

“You guys are just as bad as you were in college.” You say, leaning back into the couch behind you. None of you had moved from the floor where you had sat around the table to play Uno.

“Oh, right. I forgot that you were our ‘goody two shoes’ girl. Never did anything wrong...” Namjoon tried to roll his eyes, but the half-moon shape barely showed the whites of his eyes.

“That’s not true… I was just way better at being discreet. It wasn’t the campus’ business who I let between my legs.” 

“We played ‘never have I ever’ so many times, though… You never did anything bad.” Jungkook pouted at you, thinking you were lying to him. In reality, you lied back then. It wasn’t anyone’s business and you weren’t going to expose others’ sex lives just for some drinking game.

“I did, I just didn’t put a finger down,” you laughed. “I still drank what I was supposed to, I just didn’t want to be questioned about my threesomes and shit.”

Namjoon couldn’t believe what he heard. You, his precious best female friend, had a threesome before. The air in the room shifts, the tension palpable in the room.

“No, not my YN. You’re the good one.” Namjoon stated jokingly, though you could sense he was still serious.

“I need the details, YN.” Jungkook stared at you, eyes steady as he pinned you with his gaze.

His look is full of desire, and you can see him move ever so slightly as if he was uncomfortable. Jungkook’s hand moves to cover his hardening cock, but not before you can see that it was exactly what was making him so uncomfortable in his boxer briefs. 

“It was nothing wild, Koo. We were drunk, it was college, one of them, the girl, said that getting eaten out feels better by a woman, the other said no way and said he was the best ever to do it, so I volunteered to test out their theory and draw an end to the pissing contest.” 

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered how much fun it was. The memory turned you on slightly; you can feel your arousal drip onto your thong.

“So who was better?”

“She was, definitely.”

Namjoon shakes his head and Jungkook leans back, incredulous. Both had leaned in towards you as you told the short story, falling on every word that you said.

“Pfft! No way, I could totally out-do the chick.”

“Same. He didn’t know what he was doing, clearly.”

You shifted your body to get more comfortable, sitting with your knees bent and spread open in an L shape as you leaned back against the seat of the couch. You may have been curvy, but you were comfortable around Jungkook and Namjoon as they had known you for so long and seen you in various stages of undress, sobriety, and moods.

“I mean, we can always test it out.” You gesture your arm out at the 2 of them, resting your forearm on the knee that is bent up to the sky.

It’s silent, deadly, as they stare at you. Jungkook’s eyes roam your body that is on display for him, instinctively licking his lips. Namjoon, who was still leaned towards you, gives a smirk that has you… excited.

“Baby, you couldn’t handle me.”

“Awe, Joonie, it’s cute that you think so.”

“I’d be better at it anyways.” Jungkook chimed in. That cocky confidence oozing over him as he mimics your pose, though leaning back on his palm, arm extended to share part of his weight.

“Mmm.. I don’t know Kookie, I think Namjoon has been at it a little longer than you, plus, no offense, but he has fuller lips...” You turn away from Jungkook’s pout toward Namjoon, who’s still got that damn smirk on his face.

He moved forward, practically stalking on his hands and knees as he brings himself into your personal space. You watch the way his chest and arms flex, mouth practically drooling at the sight.

“You've been sizing me up, baby?” His voice is low, deeper as he let his hunger for you show. His hand slides along your hip, fingers curling gently around you. “You think about how good it would feel, my tongue between your legs?”

He’s surprised that you didn’t pull away. When you reached up and grabbed a handful of his blond locks and tugged, you reveled in the low groan he let out, eyes fixated on his quivering Adam’s apple as the sinful sound reverberated throughout the apartment.

“Damn—” your eyes snapped to Jungkook, whose pupils had dilated as he watched the interaction between you and his hyung. His mouth hung open; he hadn’t realized he had verbalized his thoughts.

“Everything okay, bun?” you asked, using Jungkook’s pet name that you loved to use when teasing him.

He cleared his throat, his hand stroking gently at his clothed cock, trying to ease the ache.

“Yeah—please, continue.”

You realized he was addressing Namjoon when you felt his parted lips skim across your neck, soft and wet as his tongue joined. Latching on gently, you rolled your head back allowing him more access as you yourself were now the one affected, moaning breathily as his solid frame hovered over you, pressing you back into the couch. You tightened your grip on his hair, and he bit your neck a little harder in response. 

Eyes fluttered closed, you felt a second set of hands on you, palms sliding along the pantyhose that still covered your legs. 

“I know you’ve thought about this...” Jungkook’s lips moved along your tummy as he talked, small kisses along the waistband of your hosiery. “Can practically feel how badly you want this.” 

His fingers dipped into your band and began to tug them down, freeing your thighs from their confines. You arched your back, unable to not react as he mouthed loudly at your clothed core, his tongue flicking against the cotton to trace the outline of your needy clit as he groaned with the inhale of your arousal.

Namjoon on the other hand was quieter, mouth busy sucking light bruises to your skin as his large hands palmed your ample breasts. As he kissed down your neck and collar bone, he pulled one mound from your bra, laving his tongue around your aroused nipple to pull sounds out of you. 

So enthralled in the feel of Namjoon, you don’t notice that Jungkook has you stripped bare, not until he’s nudged your thighs apart and settled himself between, a trail of wet kisses along your inner thigh almost unnoticed due to the amount of pleasure you’re feeling—that is until his lips latched onto your clit, a combined sucking motion with a flicking tongue, made your free hand dive into his mess of dark strands, directing his ministrations.

“Fuck, Jungkook, d-don’t stop.”

Namjoon moved to be behind you, replacing the couch as your backing as Jungkook circled his arms around your thighs and pulled you down closer to his feasting mouth. Namjoon began to kiss at your neck, hands resumed their massaging of your chest, nipples rolling between his fingers as you held Jungkook’s head so you could roll your hips, fucking yourself on his tongue. 

Feeling it build, the delightful coiling in your abdomen snaps when Jungkook enters you with a thrust of his two fingers and strokes roughly along your walls, brushing the rough patch of bundled nerves. You cry out, head thrown back onto Namjoon’s shoulder as you buck, hips rolling as you ride out your high on Jungkook’s face.

“Definitely think that I was better than that girl, huh, angel?”

You nod, never one to lie about how good or bad someone is sexually. 

“You let me have the control to fuck your face, it was amazing.” You tell him, your chest rapidly moving as you attempted to regulate your breathing.

“My turn.”

You feel more than see Namjoon switch places with Jungkook, maneuvering your body to a more comfortable position. Jungkook’s cock, hard and erect, is now pressed between your back and his abs when you leaned back onto him.

“Oh, he left you such a mess, baby.” Namjoon licks a stripe along your swollen clit, lapping at the juices. You’re still sensitive, but he pushed your thighs apart so his large hands could hold you in place as he slowly teased at your folds until you felt yourself leaning into it, wanting more instead of squirming away. 

“Right there Joonie—shit, that feels—oh!” 

Namjoon’s thumb rubbed wet circles on your swollen nub as his tongue explored every inch of you, teasing and tasting. Jungkook held you tight in his embrace, preventing you from running now that you could feel your second orgasm building. 

To make your judgement fair, Jungkook’s lips and hands touched your body where he could reach, knowing that Namjoon’s ministrations had added to your heightened senses when it had been him gracing the spot between your thighs. 

Namjoon’s nose pressed against your clit as he open-mouth kissed your heat, devouring as much as he could of your release before you replaced what he had cleaned up. You could feel the growing orgasm spreading through your veins, the thrum of your beating heart loud in your ears until Namjoon inserted his fingers. The squelching sound as your walls sucked his first two fingers into you caused both men to groan, the vibrations of the one feasting leading you to arch your back into Jungkook’s chest. Toes curling, your mouth is open as you try and catch your breath, but Namjoon did the same move as Jungkook and you squirmed as it consumed you, a crackling of electricity taking over your senses.

Sitting up, Namjoon grinned over your shoulder, knowing that the move his younger roommate taught him all those years ago never fails.

“I would say that makes it 1 for Jungkook, 1 for Namjoon, as we now hold the title ‘better than the girl who rocked your world’, right JK? Our good girl is finally enjoying being bad.”

Namjoon’s chin and lips were slicked with your cum, and you nodded, still a little fucked out as you came down.

“Damn, I wonder what prize we should get?”

Lifting an eyebrow, you sat up off Jungkook's chest, propelling yourself forward until you were on your hands and knees, eye level with Namjoon’s obvious hard-on. Licking your lips, his eyes followed the movement. He watched your every move as you leaned down, opened your mouth slowly, and lowered your tongue to the fabric covering his erection. You hear Jungkook inhale at the view you provide, sopping cunt on display.

“Mmph.. shit, baby.” Namjoon’s cock twitches as your mouth, hot and wet, teases his most sensitive area, and when he lifts his hips slightly, chasing as you pull away, you decide to show him exactly how much you enjoy being bad.

Your hands have pulled his boxer briefs down and the bulbous tip has entered your mouth before he was able to see the glint in your eye. Taking him into your mouth fully, he let out a sound you never thought you’d hear from him, a loud moan higher than his usual tone and accompanied with movement from his hips as he thrust up. Spit from your mouth dripped down his shaft as you pulled back. 

You heard Jungkook mutter a curse as your hips swayed seductively in his face, and you removed your lips off of Namjoon with a wet pop sound, replacing your mouth with your hand as you stroked his length. Turning your head to peek over your shoulder, you follow Jungkook’s gaze, smirking.

“Hey Bun, you gonna stare at it all night, or are you going to fill me up?”

You giggled as he scrambled up onto his knees, his hands tugging at his underwear to free himself from the restraining fabric. You grasp Namjoon’s thighs before you lower yourself again, the thrust of Jungkook entering you from behind pushing you farther onto Namjoon’s cock. The moan vibrates along his shaft, and Namjoon’s toes curl as you swallow around him, tongue tracing the thick vein.

“Fuck, you’re so wet...” Jungkook’s voice, melodious as he vocalizes with each thrust, causes you to clench involuntarily as he splits you. The burn from the stretch feels good, so good, and you push back onto him, fucking yourself as his hands hold onto your curves. 

“Her mouth… Jungkook, her mouth is—” you hollow your cheeks as you vacillate up and down, and Namjoon can no longer form words. His hands cup your face as he watches you worship him, oblivious to the words of praise Jungkook is saying.

“YN, fuck baby, your pussy is squeezing me so tight… You take my cock so well, better than I dreamed of.”

The spit that had gathered in your mouth dripped down and as you massaged Namjoon’s balls, the spit added to his pleasure. You felt them constrict in your hands, his cock twitching as your first warning.

“Baby, I—” you nod, knowing what he wants to say, and the action made him squeeze his whiskey colored eyes shut before he came, ropes of hot cum filling your mouth. Once he opened his eyes again, you made eye contact, pulling off of him and opening your mouth so Namjoon could see the translucent coating on your tongue before you swallowed it. 

“Shit.” 

His dilated pupils watched as you continued to use Jungkook to massage your g-spot, impaling yourself on him while you used a free hand to massage at your clit. Your third orgasm was a little harder to come by, not without a little help, so you told Jungkook what you needed.

“Choke me.”

You couldn’t see the way his doe eyes grew unimaginably wider as he maneuvered his right hand to grip your throat and apply just the right amount of pressure, allowing you to ascend towards climax. You fucked him harder, ass slapping against his thighs harshly.  He released your throat, both hands firmly grasping your hips. A slap to your ass from Jungkook’s hand spurred your words.

“Cum in me Kookie, fill me like Joon did—”

“Ah, fuck, I’m cumm—”

When your walls fluttered, Jungkook groaned and immersed himself as deep into your dripping core as he could so he could fill you as you gushed your arousal around him, juices mingling as you collapsed onto the carpet, Jungkook’s softening dick slipping from inside you as he moved to lay next to you.

Panting, you rolled onto your back, head on Namjoon’s thigh as you waited for your breathing to settle. Jungkook was already smiling and looking none the worse for wear, physically. He moved to lay his head on your tummy, an arm thrown over your body while Namjoon’s hand smoothed the hair away from your face.

“I think that’s… 2 for me,” you say, “and 1 for each of you.” 

Both men look at you in awe as you finish speaking, “...so what were you saying earlier about me being your ‘good girl’?”

♡ 

[junewild]

tagged by dearest @cithaerons to quote, from memory, some snippets of media or literature that live rent free in my head. whoof buddy we are in for a big storm because there are a lot and they are very angsty

“a mother hen’s devotion to her chicks is evidence that given sufficient billions of years, stardust will turn into kindness.” - daniel geiger

“girl is born as girl. her brother is born as bull. every day the brother wishes himself human and the girl wishes herself beast. not a cow but a bull. something powerful with feet heavy enough to trample gods.” - @beholdingslut

“the soap by the sink is milk and honey scented. it doesn’t make our hands holy. it doesn’t make this apartment jerusalem. ... i think our bodies are meant to hold other bodies.” - @grendelmenz (?)

“the truth is this: my love for you is the only empire i will ever build. when it falls, as all empires do, my career in empire building will be over.” - mindy nettifee

“i just want someone to grab my little face and scream: on purpose, on purpose i am going to care about you.” - jenny slate

“the first sign of civilization is a femur that has broken and been healed.” - margaret meade (probably apocryphal but who cares?)

“i love and am loved and i never thought i would let it happen. i am here to tell you that the years you spent wanting were not in vain. you will press your forehead to their forehead in your car when you are ready. you will hold hands while you drive them home. you will watch jeopardy while they lay on your chest. you have no idea the joy that is coming. you have no idea the joy that is coming.” and “if love is anything tangible it is his mouth, his mouth, his holy goddamned mouth. he says my name and the whole sky is talking.” and “it ends or it doesn’t. we do not perish.” AND “i know it’s not right to say things like this, so i’ll only say it once. listen closely. are you listening? bring your ear to my mouth. i would follow you anywhere. i would. god, i would.” - caitlyn siehl / @alonesomes (guess whomst has been influenced)

“why do we breathe air? because we love air? because we don’t want to suffocate. why do we eat? because we don’t want to starve. how do i know i love her? because i can sleep after i talk to her.” - maggie stiefvater

“go ahead. be gouged open by love. gulp that seawater, sink beneath the waves. you’re not a boat, you can go under and come up again, with those great big lungs of yours. and your heart, that gargantuan ark. call it unsinkable, though it is sinkable. embark, embark. there are enough ballrooms in you to dance with everyone you’ve ever loved.” - laura lamb brown-lavoie

“it is in your best interests to find a way to be very tender.” - jenny holzer

“i am alive ; can you not hear the ocean in me ; are you not aware of the war i am fighting ; i am alive ; you cannot take that from me.” - i think this one might also be caitlyn siehl but i can’t find it when i look for it anymore

“we don’t love this world without reason.” - @catadromously (this, along with “stay wolf my love” and “that’s all there is” is one of the only quotes i’ve ever considered getting as a tattoo)

“you painted a naked woman because you liked looking at her, and you put a mirror in her hand and called it vanity, thus condemning the woman whose nakedness you had depicted for your own pleasure.” - john berger

“hail, holy light, offspring of heav’n firstborn. or of eternal, co-eternal beam. may i express thee unblam’d? since god is light, and never but in unapproach’d light. dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, bright effluence of bright essence increate.” - milton

“to seize each moment, to live to the fullest the love between us, to refuse no joy set before us, that each day might be a gold coin to add to the treasure of our love. until i’ve drunk the last drop in the cup and no more days remain to me, as long as life shall last, until i take my last breath of the sweet air.” - wedding vows for hobbits written by lindelea

“i was making dinner and i got a message. go look outside, it said. go look at the sunset. my apartment is small, with four rooms and two windows that don’t see a lot of light so i had no idea. i hurried out. i was running to this sunset, suddenly the only thing that mattered. i hurried past the taller buildings and made it to the park and the sky was bleeding shades of purple and pink. it was beautiful and fleeting, there one minute and gone the next. i almost missed it. i could have kissed it. and i started thinking: how lovely would it be to get a nudge, a tap on the shoulder before your life changes. stop what you’re doing and look around. you’ll want to remember this later. in a minute, you’re going to fall in love.” - kelsey danielle

not quotes, but the confession scene from fleabag and the leslie/ben proposal and wedding scenes from parks and rec live rent free in my mind and i will never stop thinking about them. never.

i tag @grizzlybairparty @sabertoothwalrus @zubeia @eileentide @beholdingslut @crypticspren @goldengirlschildhood and anyone else who’d like to try it!

[vee-angel]

Excerpt from “All for Nought”

So I recently finished an introduction for a third member of the “Pervert Pentet” series (Potty-Mouth Piper and Non-Consent Nancy are the first two characters out of five), but while beginning revisions, I noticed that the story was, to use a technical author’s term... bad. But I’ve also noticed that I’ve gotten a lot of new followers recently, so I wanted to give you all something to check out while I un-baddify the other story. 

What follows is an excerpt from Chapter Six of my as-yet-incomplete erotic fan-fiction novel set in the Mass Effect universe. It’s a bit tame compared to my normal content, and even tame compared to the other sex scenes in the same book, but at least it’s reasonably well-written by my current standards. 

To give a concise set up for the scene, Commander Shepard (the female version) and Jack (also female) have been pushed into going on a date, and they’re beginning to loosen up around one another during a walk on the beach of an alien planet:

Jack stopped walking, but kept an easy smile on her face. The two of them looked into each others eyes for several seconds. “Take off your clothes.” Jack finally said.

Shepard looked around, they had walked far enough from the bar that no one would be able to see them. The sun was nearing the horizon and the indigo tones of the sky and water were turning more towards a purplish-red.

She took a step back, pushing one strap of her black dress off, then the other. The dress fell down to join the billions of aquamarine colored grains adorning the beach. Her small but firm breasts were bare, lacking the need for a bra. Her panties were black, lace, and slightly sheer. After Jack’s comments about her undergarments back on Omega, she’d made sure to wear something sexy.

Jack nodded with approval at the lacy undergarment, but gestured with a finger to remove it as well. Shepard hooked her thumbs into the waistband and pushed them down to join the dress at her feet. Stepping forward, her naked body covered by nothing but the small rectangle of scarlet hair above her clit.

“Lay down.” An order that Shepard was happy to obey. Jack snapped open the front of her pants and let them fall, she wore nothing underneath. She took a step forward until she was standing over the Commander, her feet on either side of her waist. “I’ve seen you trying to sneak a peek back on the ship. Go ahead and get a good look.”

It was true, Shepard’s eyes had lingered over Jack’s body on more than one occasion. But this was the first time she really got a chance to stare. The features of Jack’s body were always a bit difficult to interpret. The maze of tattoos that covered her had a tendency to confuse the eye. Her skin was more inked than not. The small spot between her legs was still bare, though. And beautiful.

Jack wasn’t quite as old as Shepard, only a bit into her twenties, and something about her pussy seemed almost scandalously young. Her skin looked fresh, and firm. Whatever hair removal technique she used left no trace that hair had ever obscured any part of her body. Her outer labia were prominent, and puffy. Even standing widely, they barely opened to hint at the bright pink inner lips.

“You can kiss it if you want.” Jack said. Her tone suggested she had an almost arrogant pride about her sex appeal. Shepard sat up and craned her neck to bring her mouth toward the woman’s cunt. Her mouth opened and her tongue pushed forward seductively. At the last instant there was a painful ZAP to the tip of her tongue. She let out a quiet yelp and heard Jack gasp slightly. A static discharge, a common occurrence for biotics; on a metal ship there were plenty of opportunities for a biotic to dump the excess electricity into their environment, but out here in nature, the charge had built up. The tip of her tongue was still buzzing when Jack roughly grabbed her crimson locks. “Hey! I said kiss, not lick.” Her voice was firm, but not hostile.

“Sorry, Ma’am. Won’t happen again.” Shepard replied with a grin. Following orders has never been this fun before. Shepard thought. She closed her mouth and tried again. As her lips touched Jack’s slit there was no shock this time. She puckered slowly, affectionately kissing the hairless vulva. There was a sound of gentle suction as she slowly pulled away and looked up at the woman in anticipation of her next command.

“Lay back down. You can play with yourself while you look at me.”

Tease! Shepard thought with delight as she obeyed and gazed upon the slender form over her. Her hands moved down and caressed over her fiery red pubic hair to reach her own shaven lips. She ran a finger up and down her own slit as she looked up at Jack’s.

The hairless woman was still dressed in her leather jacket and boots. She playfully opened one side of the jacket, then the other, giving Shepard the chance to look up at her perky little tits and obviously erect nipples. She began slowly tracing lines across her torso with her fingertips. At the same time, she began slowly shifting her hips in a gentle, arrhythmic dance. The Commander had dipped two fingers into her cunt. Her palm rubbed against her clit as her fingertips stimulated her g-spot. This is amazing, she thought. She had never been so aroused without being touched. Looking straight up into Jack’s beautiful cunt as her body writhed above it almost made her cum right then and there. But she held off.

Despite the fact that Jack’s youthful breasts seemed almost immune to gravity, her muscles weren’t, and standing for so long appeared to be taking its toll. She dropped to her knees with a somewhat dramatic force. “Remember, Shepard, you can look, but don’t touch.” She wasn’t sure why the denial made her so hot. Jack’s knees were now just outside her shoulders. Her naked cunt spread wide less than a foot in front of her face. Shepard’s body was tensed from chest to toes as she went from making love to her fingers to fiercely fucking them. The woman above her closed her eyes as her hands ran over her own skin, her fingers eventually reaching her own center of pleasure. Jack’s middle finger made small, quick circles as she rubbed her clitoris. She paused rubbing periodically to give herself a few firm slaps between the legs. She grunted in pleasure-pain as she did so.

She watched as Jack touched herself, one hand between her legs, the other moving across her tattooed skin, sometimes joining her other hand between her legs, but mostly stimulating her breasts, pinching and tugging on her petite nipples. She strained to hold off so that they could reach climax simultaneously, but it was no use. Her breath caught in her throat as her ass tensed hard enough to push her pelvis up into the air. She was fingering herself furiously as she stared up at Jack touching her perfectly formed cunt. She began moaning uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure exploded from between her legs. It was a few dozen seconds before Shepard’s orgasm finally died down; though rather than withdrawing her fingers, she simply slowed her pace, readying herself for a second round. She could tell Jack was close.

Soon after Shepard’s orgasm ended, Jack’s began. Her teeth clenched, with her face scrunching up into a scowl as she looked skyward. Animalistic growling noises escaped her throat as her ecstasy grew. And that’s when it happened, a jet of hot liquid from Jack’s pussy that hit the lying woman in the neck. Several more rhythmic spurts followed, spraying through her fingers and splashing over Shepard from chest to chin. She dipped her tongue down to taste the salty orgasmic liquid. Jack finished with a powerful grunt and collapsed in the sand next to Shepard’s head. The Commander withdrew her fingers from herself and dipped them in the pool of cunt-juice that collected at the bottom of her neck, she brought it gingerly to her tongue. “I didn’t know you were a squirter.” she said in a quiet tone of post-orgasmic bliss.

“I’m usually not.” Jack replied in the same tone, “Guess you got lucky today.”

Shepard let out an exhausted chuckle, “I’ll say.”

“Ya know, I’m not usually into girls so much, but you’re all right, Shepard.”

She lifted herself up onto one elbow to look over at her directly. “Wait, seriously? I thought you just said that because you wanted to let me down easy.”

“What can I say, I’m a selfish lover. Chicks don’t usually like that. Plus they’re all either dainty little flowers who want me to protect them, or they’re bitches who wanna feel tough by trying to get me to be their obedient little sidekick.”

“I guess I should feel special, then.”

“Feel however you want, I don’t give a fuck.”

She did feel special, though. Jack kept just about everyone at arm’s length. Even during a sexual encounter, she maintained a certain distance. Still, she couldn’t help but think that she felt closer to Jack than she had before.

[lunaerly]

Be Careful

Erik ‘Killmonger’ Stevens x Reader

Summary: angsty trash based off a verse from Cardi B - Be Careful

Warnings: Erik lowkey ain’t shit but we still love him. Cheating up ahead, lots of tears.

Words: 5k I honestly don’t know why this fic so long, my bad

Notes: I had something else planned to post but I saw the idea on another blog so I’m rewriting and this one was already done. Also biiiiiiitch y’all showed me so much love on Midnight Marathons, I can’t thank y’all enough! All my faves reading my story, ya girl is still shook. Obligatory sorry for any spelling mistakes, Thanks for reading!

I wanna get married, like the Curry’s - Steph and Ayesha shit

But we more like Belly - Tommy and Keisha shit

Gave you TLC, you wanna creep and shit

Poured out my whole heart to a piece of shit

You and Erik had been together for three years, nearly four in a few months. Your longest relationship to date though definitely not your smoothest one. No, this relationship had more ups and downs than a rollercoaster but you two had somehow survived the test of time and here you two stood today. It was beautiful to see where you two had ended up. You hoped there was a ring in your future but you weren’t gonna rush that decision, y’all were happy where you were now.

Your phone chimes as the timer goes off and you set your book down to the coffee table, unfolding your legs from under you as you rise and make your way to the kitchen. Turning the oven off, you grab the mitts and quickly pull dinner out the oven resting it on a cloth on the countertop to cool before Erik got home. The sound of the front door slamming startles you but you recognize the sound of Erik’s heavy boots as he tossed his stuff on the couch.

Slipping out the kitchen you go to greet your man, a small frown coming to your lips when you see he’s standing in the middle of the living room, eyes trained on his cell phone. He glances up when he hears your soft footfall over the carpet. “Hey,” you greet lightly, a smile coming to your lips as he tosses his phone on the couch where his jacket lay, “I made dinner.” You nod your head back towards the kitchen.

“I ate already,” Erik murmurs as he watches you from across the living room, “I’m going back out, chill with some of my boys.” He informs you like he’s talking about the weather.

“I feel like we haven’t seen each other all week, Erik. I just wanted to have dinner with you, you would have known that if you answered my damn texts!” You can’t help but be a little irritated right now. Erik’s barely been home, skipping out the door nearly as soon as he’s got in, hardly even getting out a goodbye before the doors slamming in your face.

“Aye, don’t start all that cursing at me and shit. I’mma be home in like two hours, we can fucking eat then.” And then he’s walking away, leaving you to calm to swell of anger and irritation bubbling in your chest. In two hours it’ll be eleven pm and you’ll be asleep for work tomorrow, having gone to bed alone again. Turning on your heel, no longer hungry yourself, you begin dumping all the food in tupperware containers and tossing it in the fridge trying to not let your attitude ruin a perfectly good meal.

Dishes in the washer, you cut the light out as you leave, moving around the furniture towards the coffee table to grab the book you’d been reading earlier. The glow of a notification on Erik’s phone catches your eyes and before you can stop yourself, the phone is in your hand.

There’s several texts on the screen, one from a group text and another from his friend Jason but there’s one from a name you hadn’t seen in years. Janella, a chick Erik messed with in college.

Janella

what time you comin? he just left.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you read the text. It’s was so innocuous but there’s no way to misinterpret it. Erik was cheating on you. Nearly three years down the drain in an instant. You wonder how long he’s been seeing Janella, if she’d been the only one or there were even more spread out over the years. God, you bared your heart for this nigga, so many arguments and fights and sleepless nights before you two finally fell into the comfortable patch of your relationship… all that for nothing. You don’t realize you’re staring blankly at Erik’s phone until you hear him coming back down the hall. You toss the device back on the couch as if it’s burned you, and in a way it has; burned you straight to the core, your chest aching as if you’d been shot. You stand, clutching your book to your chest as if that’ll close the gaping hole there. He stops at the entryway to the hall when he sees you stood in the middle of the living room, his brow furrowing.

You don’t give him a chance to speak, shuffling hurriedly around the coffee table and skirting around his body in the hall. You couldn’t even stand to touch him, couldn’t stand the sight of him right now. You don’t say goodnight to him, though you can feel his eyes on your back as you walk down the hall, quickly entering your shared bedroom and shutting the door. You hesitant for a second before you turn and lock the knob as well. You didn’t want him anywhere near you when he came back.

Man I thought you woulda learned your lesson

‘Bout liking pictures, not returning texts

I guess it’s fine man, I get the message

You still stutter after certain questions, you keep in contact with certain exes

You lay in bed that night, after listening to the front door slam and Erik’s car peel out the lot, on your own phone. You weren’t someone who used social media often, at most using Facebook to keep up with your family back home, and while you had accounts on other platforms you didn’t use them much. And you can see Erik’s used this completely to his advantage. His Instagram profile looks as if he wasn’t in a committed relationship for the past three years… well you guess he wasn’t. He’s got pictures posted up in clubs surrounded by bottles and models when he told you he was working or he was busy. Various women strewn across his lap in various pictures, showing off his chains and his gold grills, cash and iced out watches.  Your stomach hurts as you scroll through, not a single whisper of you anywhere. Exiting out his profile, you know scrolling through the Activity page will hurt just as much but you need to know. You don’t follow many people but Erik still dominates the page, likes on pictures of women, half naked women promoting waist trainers and teas, women posed in front of gym mirrors, women in skimpy dresses and clothing from whatever the hell Fashion Nova was. You close out the app completely when you’ve finally had enough, chest aching and your eyes burning, the pillow wet beneath your cheek.

You roll over, tugging the blanket above your head as you sniffle quietly. You can smell Erik, his cologne clinging to the sheets on his side of the bed. It makes you want to vomit. Quickly scurrying out of bed, you grab a spare, clean, blanket out the closet and your own pillow and curl up in the small armchair in the corner of the bedroom. It takes awhile, your mind fluttering through the last three years of your relationship with Erik trying to pick apart everything, trying to see how you hadn’t noticed he was cheating on you. Your brain seems hellbent on breaking your heart even further but finally, you fall into a fitful sleep.

You’re startled awake some time later by a heavy bang against the bedroom door. “Y/N!” Erik shouts, his voice deep and gruff as he jiggles the locked door knob. Out the open curtain you can see the first beginnings of sunrise lighting up the sky. Back in two hours, my fuckin’ ass. You think as you wrap the blanket around your shoulders tight. Erik bangs on the door again, the flimsy piece of wood rattling like it was made of paper. You would have kept it locked if you knew Erik wouldn’t kick it down eventually and you didn’t need all that noise getting the neighbor curious.

“Y/N, the fuck is you doin’?! Open up this fucking door!” Erik yells as you stand up on sore legs and shuffle to the door. Twisting the lock, you pull the door open just enough to look through the crack. Erik’s face is twisted up with barely contained anger and screws up even further when he sees you. He pushes against the door but you block it with your body this time, ignoring the pinch the corner of the door gives your collarbone when it digs in. “What the fuck are you doing, Y/N? Why is the damn door locked?” He questions angrily, pushing against the door again.

“I was asleep.” You answer, voice rough from your crying and your horrible few hours of sleep.

“Sleep? I been banging on this fucking door for ten minutes! The fuck you got the door locked for?” He pushes against the frame again. “There better not be somebody in this fuckin’ room Y/N.”

Guilty conscience. You mutter darkly in your mind, it’s always the true cheaters who push their actions on their innocent partners eventually.

“Open this door Y/N, or I swear I will knock you on your ass.” Erik warns harshly. You stare at him through the slim opening of the door before turning your body away from the door. It flies open immediately when you’re clear from its path, Erik stepping over the threshold and looking around.

“Where the fuck is he?” He steps further into the room, pushing open the closet door and flinging y’alls clothes to the sides.

“Fuck you Erik, there’s nobody here! I was asleep.” You grind out, teeth clenched in frustration at seeing him in front of you, having the audacity to accuse you of cheating. Your chest aches still but this time anger has taken the forefront.

“Why you ain’t answer your damn phone? I been callin’ you, had me thinking you was in here fuckin’ dead!” Erik shouts, slamming the closet doors closed again, turning on his heel to face where you’re still leaned up against the wall by the door.

“God Erik, shut up, it’s like four in the damn morning. You’re going to wake up the neighbors.” You push off the wall, blanket trailing behind you as you move to where you left your phone on the bed. It’s dead so you plug it in to charge a little bit before you have to leave for work.

“I don’t give a gotdamn about those fuck ass neighbors, What the hell is your problem? Are you still mad over dinner?” Erik asks, incredulity in his tone as if he couldn’t understand the aspect of his girlfriend being upset over cooking a dinner for the umpteenth night in a row only for her boyfriend to say he ate and leave her for the night. You stand up, looking up to where Erik stands on the opposite end of the bed,

“You still talk to Janella?” The question spills out before you can stop yourself. His eyes narrow at you, face tightening into an unreadable emotion.

“What?” He questions.

“Oh, now you can’t hear me?” You scoff, throwing the blanket off your shoulders and letting it pool to the floor. You walk over to the closet, swinging the doors open and quickly grabbing an outfit appropriate for work. It’s way too early to be trying to get ready but you couldn’t stand to be near Erik right now. You could use a long soak in the tub as well.

“Yo, what the hell you ask me that for?” Erik asks as you move to the dressers, pulling out a pair of panties and a bra. Your shoes are out in the living room so you don’t worry over that. “Y/N, answer me! What is going on with you right now?”

You stay silent as you leave the room, slipping into the bathroom before Erik can think to follow you, locking that door as well. You sit on the edge of the tub, trying to block out the sound of Erik stomping around y’alls bedroom, probably still looking for evidence of your supposed cheating. Once the tub is filled enough, the water steaming hot, you shed your clothing piece by piece before stepping in and sinking down.

Do you though, trust me nigga it’s cool though

Said that you was workin’ but you out here chasin’ culo

And putas, chillin’ poolside, living two lives

I coulda did what you did to me to you a few times

When you leave for work, Erik is gone once more and after a look through his Instagram profile last night you can only imagine where he could be right now. Actually you didn’t want to imagine, it hurt too much. To think that your boyfriend had been out and about in the world living two vastly different lives while you remained blissfully unaware made you sick to your stomach. Nigga been playing you for a fool for too long, not anymore.

Resting your head against the rim of the steering wheel to your car, you breathe in deep for a minute to gather your bearings. When you’re feeling a little steadier, you start your car and begin your commute to work. You shuffle through your playlist restlessly because Beyonce was hitting a little too close to home right now before you give up and turn the radio on instead.

You make it to work in enough time to buy yourself some sugary, overpriced coffee instead of drinking the stuff from the office, taking your time in walking up to the elevators with your iced coffee in hand. Your heels click on the floors with a sound you always found satisfying, pressing the up arrow you wait in front of the sliding doors, watching the numbers slowly descend.

“Good morning,” you hear come from your left. Turning your head you see your coworker Malcolm. “You look beautiful today.” He compliments as he comes to a stop beside you. While the compliment was nice, it surely didn’t help how you were feeling currently but you put on a polite smile and thank him anyways. The elevator dings as it stops on your floor, the door sliding open moments later. Stepping aside to let the few people off, Malcolm gestures for you to go first as you walk aboard, pressing the seventh floor button, you can’t help but think of all the compliments, comments, and propositions you’ve gotten over the years. Men coming up to you in clubs when you’re out with some work friends, trying to buy you drinks and get you to dance. Brave baristas writing their number on your coffee cup like you were some swooning teenager and coworkers like Malcolm coming up to you despite having seen and met Erik before. And no matter how attractive, not once had the thought ever crossed your mind to step out on Erik.

Then a petty thought pops up like a pimple on prom night and you’re just itching to pop it. Thankfully, the elevator arrives before you can act on your thought. Hurrying to your office, straw to your coffee between your teeth, you close the door and shut the blinds for privacy. Dropping into your chair, you set your purse and coffee on your desk. You dig your phone out your purse to finish charging. There’s a single text from Erik on your screen.

Baby

where r u

You don’t deign it with a response, laying your phone face down off to the corner of your desk as you throw yourself into your work. Lunch comes sooner than you realize, your stomach grumbling at only having had coffee to sooth it over. Deciding to call it quits for a while, you save your work and grab your wallet and keys out your purse along with your cell phone, you slip out your office for the first time since you arrived.

“Oh! Y/N, I didn’t even know you were here!” Rachel, a bubbly, excitable girl nearly bounces over to you. “Malcolm said he saw you come in but your blinds were closed so I figured you’d left.” She matches your pace as you walk to the elevator.

You smile weakly over to her. “Yeah, I just wanted some privacy, I didn’t feel too well.” You press the elevator button and the doors open immediately.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear. Are you feeling any better?” She asks as you two board the elevator together. You shrug your shoulders lightly.

“Hopefully I’ll be okay soon.” Yeah, you sure do fucking hope.

“Oh, well. I did have another reason for asking around for you. Erik came by but I’d told him I hadn’t seen you yet. Did you speak with him?” Rachel asks as the elevator comes to a stop and you two exit on the ground floor.

“Um… yeah. He called me.” You hum as you two walk out the building. Knowing Rachel was going to the salad bar nearby, you wave goodbye and walk in the opposite direction. You’re not really in the mood for any of the options within walking distance wearing heels, but you pick the lesser of the evils and step into a little pizza shop off the corner. You put in your order, deciding to eat in and enjoy the sun on your skin a little bit longer before you had to head back to your office.

Despite what you had told Rachel, Erik hadn’t called at all and if he did, you surely wouldn’t have answered. And there hadn’t been anymore texts besides the question as to where you were this morning. You thumb through your message thread, shaking your head lightly at the sight of so many unanswered texts or short replies. You remember the times when Erik wouldn’t stop blowing up your phone now it looked like you were talking to your damn self in the thread.

A chair is dragged out across from you and you look up from your phone to watch an man take a seat, settling his elbows on the table, matching your position. His face is unfamiliar though attractive and suddenly your petty thought is alive and well again. You want to give Erik a taste of his own medicine.

“Can’t be that bad of a day.” The man speaks up finally, hazel eyes watching you.

“Excuse me?” You’re a bit confused. You know you been out the game for a while but that wasn’t a conversation starter you usually heard.

“To have this pretty face frowned up so much.” He remarks with a quirk on his brow.

“Oh… just some… personal problems, I guess you could say.” You murmur with a shrug of your shoulders. A harried looking waitress brings your food around suddenly, sliding the hot plate in front of you and then is off as quickly as she came. You take a sip from your drink as wait for your food to cool down a bit.

“Personal, as in boyfriend?” The man questions lightly as you people watch over the little metal railing you sat near. Turning back to face him, your brow furrowed in confusion as to how he thought this was his business.

“Look, sir, I’m not really sure–” An abrupt, harsh yell of your name makes you turn your head, jumping in shock. Across the street, Erik’s hopping out his car, absolutely livid. You frown and stand, watching as he makes his way across the street.

“What the fuck is you doin’, Y/N?” Erik growls, hopping the gate that separated the restaurant’s outdoor eating area from the sidewalk.

“I’m having lunch, Erik. Aren’t you supposed to be at work? What are you here for?” You retort angrily, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared him down. He ignores you, looking over your head to the stranger still sat at your table.

“This the nigga you had in my house, Y/N?” Erik steps forward, eyes still trained on the man behind you. You step as well, nearly chest to chest with the taller man.

“I told you,” you growled, irritation seeping out like a leaky faucet, “there wasn’t anyone in the fucking house! Why do you think I’m lying?” Because he was cheater his damn self, projecting his guilty conscience all over you. “You know what, just go Erik okay. I don’t even know who the fuck this guy is. He sat down at my table.”

“Y/N, I swear–” Erik starts before cutting himself off with a huff and a clench of his jaw. “Bring your ass straight home after work.” He growls and hops the railing once more prowling back over to his car. The engine rips out a loud growl, his tires squealing before he pulled off.

“I take it those were your personal problems.”

You whirl around at the stranger's comment, glaring silently at him. He raises his hand in silent surrender before his hand slides to his jacket pocket. He pulls out pen and grabs a napkin out the holder. He scribbles on it for a moment before sliding it next to your plate of forgotten food.

“Call me beautiful.” And then he’s gone himself.

You stare at the dark digits against the napkin, a million thoughts running through your mind. Hesitant, you fold the napkin and slide the number into your wallet.

But if I did decide to slide, find a nigga

Fuck him, suck his dick, you woulda been pissed

But that's not my MO, I’m not that type of bitch

And karma for you is gon’ be who you end up with

You make me sick nigga

Back in your office, you recline in your chair, spinning slowly as your mind wandered. You think of the little piece of napkin folded in your wallet with the number of another man on it. You want to call it, call him and meet up, suck his dick or something. Something to hurt Erik as much as he’s hurting you. But you know that you won’t, you can’t, it’s not in you to be so purposefully hurtful even after being hurt yourself. Stopping yourself from spinning when you’re facing your desk, you dig the number out your wallet and toss it in the trash can beside your desk with a small sigh.

Gathering your things, you stuff them back into your purse, shutting down your computer and turning off the small lamp as you left your office, locking the door behind you. Rachel’s watching from her desk, a look of concern on her face as you walk up.

“I’m headed home, I’m just not feeling any better, I’ll keep you updated, okay?” You say, shouldering your purse as you loop your car keys around your fingers.

When she nods, you smile in her direction before taking off for the elevator.

The drive home is faster with morning traffic cleared. Singing along to the radio helped keep your mind clear as you drove, the windows rolled down and a breeze rushing over your face, the slight chill pleasant against the sun shining brightly.

Despite your slower driving, you’re finally pulling into the driveway of your shared home, Erik’s car already next to you. You sigh, not ready for the confrontation you know you’re going to be walking into. You can feel in your stomach that this is it, that while your relationship with Erik had ended the second you saw that text, saw his second lifestyle on Instagram, you’d actually be speaking it out loud, speaking it to him.

Pulling your key out the ignition, you drag your purse out the passenger seat as you exit the car, the door slamming shut a little more harshly than you’d intended. Taking a calming breath, you walk up to the front door of your home, unlocking it and letting it swing open. Erik’s sat on the couch facing the door, legs spread wide, slouched back as he rested his head along the back of the couch. His eyes are closed but you know he isn’t asleep. Dropping your purse on the small table by the door, you kick the door closed before stepping out your heels.

“You gon’ tell me what the fuck that was, Y/N?” Erik hasn’t moved though he’s opened his eyes, staring up at the white ceiling. His voice is calm but still strained with the last tendrils anger.

“You gon’ tell me how long you been fucking Janella behind my back, Erik?” You counter harshly, watching as he finally lifted his head. “How long you been cheatin’ on me, Erik?”

“Y/N–” Erik starts and you quickly cut him off.

“Just answer my fucking question!” You snap. “How long! How fucking long, Erik?” You’re shouting, voice bouncing off the walls but you don’t want to hear his runaround excuses. You want the truth.

His jaw clenched as he grinds his teeth, nose flared. “A year.” His voice quiet but you heard it perfect, loud and clear as if he’d shouted it directly in your face. The confession makes your knees weak and your head swim as your eyes burn.

“A year… a year,” you repeat, slightly hysterical. “You been cheatin’ on me for a fucking year.”

“Y/N–” He tries again, standing from where he sat on the couch. Your keys are flying through the air before you realize, Erik ducking to the side as the keys flew past where his head as just been.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut up! God fucking– I can’t believe… I can't,” You choke out, eyes blurry with tears, cheeks already dripping wet as your chest heaved for air. “I loved you! With everything in me! And this is how you treat me?! I gave you everything, Erik! I was the one holding you through your nightmares, cooking you breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Taking care of you when you came home bloody and bruised! I was holding you down! Not that bitch who fucked her way through your homeboys while y’all was together in college!” Your throat hurts and you’re not sure if it’s from your crying or your yelling.

“Why?” You ask, you don’t want to know the answer because you know it will break you but you need to know because you also know your thoughts will eat you alive if you didn’t. “Why? What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t–” Erik starts only for you to cut him off once more. He huffs angrily, jaw clenching and unclenching rhythmically.

“You don’t just cheat for no fucking reason! A year, Erik! Not one mistake, one day, one week, it’s been one year! You were cheating on me for a year! Why?!” You scream, you want to throw something else at him, you want to beat your fists into his face, there’s such a tight ball of swirling emotion in your chest you feel like you’re going to explode.

“She’s pregnant! Okay, fuck, Y/N, she’s fucking pregnant. I got her fucking pregnant.”

Your world crumbles to dust at Erik’s confession. His first child, being brought into the world by another woman. You wish you hadn’t asked. You stare at Erik in shock, watching at he rounds the loveseat blocking you two from one another. He reaches for you and you flinch away, a look of hurt finally crossing over his features.

“Baby please, I fucked up, I made a mistake, I know I did.” Erik starts and you shake your head rapidly.

“A single mistake doesn’t last for a year. You went back, you kept going back and now–” you hiccup through your tears. “Now she’s pregnant with your fucking kid Erik, congratulations!” You’re sobbing so hard your chest aches. Bringing your hands up you cradle your head in your palms, hiding your face from Erik. You didn’t even want to look at him, you didn’t know who this man was in front of you any longer.

“I’m done, Erik. We’re over.” Wiping your cheeks as best you can despite the tears still flowing, you look up to your now ex-boyfriend. “I can’t do this, I can’t.”

“Don’t you fucking say that bullshit to me Y/N!” Erik growls as he takes a step into your space. You used to love when he made you look up at him, bodies inches apart, that ridiculous smirk on his lips, amusement shining in his brown eyes but now you hate it, you hate him. At least, you’re trying to.

“We’re over.” You repeat, voice just a whisper now. “I can’t even look at you the same, all I see is you with her, you with girls from the clubs. You told me you would change years ago but you’re still exactly the same.”

“I’m not letting you go, baby. I need you, I love you. Janella don’t mean shit to me. If it wasn’t for my kid, I would have been left that bitch alone.” Erik pleads and you shake your head. You don’t want to hear it, you don’t want to hear him try and convince you because you’re not sure if you’re strong enough to not fall for it. “Y/N, I will get on my fucking knees.” And he does just that, dropping to his knees in front of you, he grabs at your hands hanging limp at your sides squeezing them as he presses kisses and pleads into your knuckles. “Please, babygirl, please. Don’t leave me.” He whispers into your skin and you watch him, your heart aching so fiercely you were sure these were your last moments on Earth.

“No, Erik… no,” you finally tug your hands out his grip, wrapping them around yourself in a tight hug trying to hold yourself together both literally and figuratively. “You cheated on me and now you have a baby with another woman. You’re in a relationship with her whether you want it or not, she’s the mother of your child and I don’t want to share you with her of all people. We’re over Erik.” You watch the emotion drain out of Erik’s face, smoothing over into a cool, blank mask though you could see his jaw twitching minutely. He slowly stands up out of his kneel, eyes searching your tear stricken face before he nods once.

“Aight ma, I’ll give you some time.” He says, voice low and rough like gravel. His eyes begin to shine and you swallow the ball in your throat. You hated to see Erik cry. You want to argue at the implications that he’d come back when he deemed you ready but knowing Erik, the offer was the best you’d get. You’d deal with the rest when it came.

Erik turns and walks away, headed to the bedroom. You take a shaky breath as you quickly wipe away the few tears that fall. Shuffling around the loveseat, dropping into the soft fabric and immediately curling up, a blank stare into the kitchen as you tried to process what had just happened. Three years with the man you thought could have easily been your forever, gone.

You blink when you hear the bedroom door close and turn your head in time to see Erik emerging from the hall, backpack over one shoulder. He walks up to you, dropping his bag at the edge of the couch and takes your face in hand, wiping warm tears away from your cheeks with his thumbs. You sob brokenly at the feel of his lips against yours but you can’t bring yourself to pull away.

“I love you.” He murmurs and you shake your head finally drawing away from his grip.

“Go, Erik,” your voice is hoarse, still thick with tears. “Please.”

The sound of the front door clicking shut hurts more than you thought possible as you curl up on your side and let the tears loose.

You gon gain the whole world but is it worth the girl that you losing

Be careful with me

Tags: @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @blackgirloneshots @wakandawinning @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @6lackraconteur @uhlxis @killmongerdispussy​ @bartierbakarimobisson @irenelove83 @imaginewhoever @kaytauru @simplybelo @k-michaelis @killmongersaidheyauntie @therevolution-willbelive @wikiwakanda @dreadedphilosphy @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @purpleskiesxhopefuldreams @caylabeaw96 @blue-ishx @sweetpeachjones @madamslayyy @killmongersgurl

[somesmallfics]

Napoleilya

Rating: Mature

Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E (2015)

Finished: I wish

Summary: An English agent persuades both Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin into her hotel room. 

I don't know how I managed to persuade the two agents into my room, least of all the towering, blond Russian who had yet to warm to me. I'd poured drinks- despite the fact I wouldn’t touch anything alcoholic- and sprouted some nonsense about the importance of improving Soviet/American/English relations since we have to work with one another. Napoleon got my meaning first, finding it all too charming that I would go to such lengths as making up a load of important sounding stuff just to coax him towards my bed. Illya, however, knew what I wanted and ignored my advances.

 It took me walking up to him, pressing my entire body to his and getting him half hard with suggestive glares and innuendoes to cloud his better judgement. Then, I closed the door behind them both to make sure neither would leave.

I've always had a thing for the bulky yet slick, dark haired American, Mr Napoleon Solo, having worked with him a number of times. I'd known he was a bit of a womanizer, but that never turned me off. In fact, I quite liked my chances with him, though we were often such a good working pair that we'd be off cases before we'd ever got a moment alone while on them. He did, on occasion find someone else to have and through thin hotel walls, I'd hear him making his chick scream. A little auditory voyeurism never did anyone any harm.

As for the muscular Russian agent, my feelings had remained professional because he was too much of a robot for me to fancy him. Then, of course, all that somehow changed. I noticed his arrogance and sarcasm being a mask for worry and insecurities around other people. He has style and tolerance. I don't know, I liked all of that. He seemed quite nice, when he wasn't having a go at Napoleon. Seriously! These two seemed to have more sexual tension than I have ever had with anyone!

Now, I'm quite partial to the idea of having a lovely blond head of slicked back hair between my legs. Perhaps tonight, I'd finally get that.

With a glass of champagne in hands, resting on my lap as far away from my face as possible (I hate the smell) I sit on the edge of my bed, looking up at the two men. Illya is standing, uncomfortably in the corner, holding a dainty glass in his thick hands. Napoleon is pacing the room, picking up trinkets placed on shelves as posh decorations, checking beneath them for bugs. No doubt both men have bugged this place so densely they could hear every breath I take. At least it serves a purpose for this evening, as I’m sure what they record will be worth a second listening to.

I make eyes at Napoleon who has swigged a mouthful of champagne and is now casually resting against the shelf by the door. He has a wonderfully charming smile that promises you a night of your wildest dreams, because he’s in on every dirty thought ever crossed your mind. It has a perfect amount of knowledge and mystery. I feel as though he is my confidante in a plan to get both him and Illya on me… or in me, take your pick. We both look at the Russian at the same time, both smiling with all our ideas unfolding in our heads.

“What?” Illya spits. Always so hostile.

“You realise what we’re in here for?” Napoleon asks. He’s always got a degree of seriousness about him. He can be smiling one minute, then saying something else funny in the most deadpan of voices you’d think he wasn’t joking. He narrows his grey-blue eyes while Illya shuffles, standing up straighter and setting his own, sky-blue irises on me.

“Yes, and I’m not much interested, I must tell you.”

“You’re not?” I deliberately sound disappointed. He continues to look at me.

“Well, then.” The American butts in, setting his glass on the shelf, creating a soft ting sound echoing around the awkwardly silent room, “If Peril doesn’t want to play, what would you have me do, Miss Jones?”

I lean back on the bed, crossing my legs so that the short, stylish shift dress I’m wearing falls further up my thighs. “That’s not going to work.” I tell him, “You asking me what I want. I like to be out of control.” I shoot a look at Illya, “At your mercy.”

Napoleon’s eyes widen in pleasant surprise. He looks over at the Russian too as though to say, ‘see what you’re missing out on?’ Still Illya does nothing, but stands steadfast in place. Rolling his eyes, Napoleon strides over to me until he’s standing just about arm’s length away. His strong hands glide up to the fly of his trousers and they pause.

“Would you mind helping me here? My pants are a little too tight.”  Grinning, I stretch out my fingers, reaching for the button holding his trousers up, but he stops me. “No, no. I’d like you on your knees.” I don’t hesitate for a second, sliding onto the floor and sitting up on my legs so that I’ll tall enough to reach him. I then unbutton and drag the zipper down of his trousers, licking my lips hungrily as a distinctive outline faces me head on.

“You know, in England…” I say, “…we call underwear ‘pants.’ I’m just confused as to whether you meant your trousers, or these.” My hand runs slowly over his hardness, snapping the waistband of his underwear once I get up to it. The sudden rush of cold and slight pain causes Napoleon to gasp. I cheekily giggle as I reach even further up, running my tongue along the outline of him. He shudders.

“No.” We suddenly hear a Russian accent cut in. With my hands on Napoleon’s hips, my face inches from his member, I peer around to see Illya placing down his glass of untouched drink and storming over to us. I half expect him to push us apart, declaring that it’s not professional to sleep with your work partners.

However, he does not. He stands beside Napoleon, eyes directly matched at mine.

“No, if you’re going to do this, you have to be totally under our control. This is wrong.” He gestures to the situation of me giggling up at Napoleon. “Come here.” He orders. I quickly obey, slithering on my hands and knees to sit beneath him.

Napoleon looks a little jealous, “You opted out, Comrade.” He reminds him.

“Well, I opt back in.” There is no arguing with Illya, especially not since I’d so quickly come calling to his demand. He casts his gaze back down at me. He speaks quietly, barely above a whisper, and raises his head a little as though he’s nodding, approving of his own decisions. He gives me a series of demands that I carry out, one after the other.

“Take your dress off. Lie back on the bed. Take your underwear off.”

Napoleon, this time, is the one to stop the situation. He steps so that he’s half facing Illya, his hand out in front of him as a gesture to stop. Illya, who has barely moved, cocks his head to one side slightly.

“What is it now, Cowboy?”

“Why do you want her completely undressed now. We don’t want her to get there too quickly.”

They speak as though I’m not even there. The tension between them is so thick, I want to cut it, cut it by crushing their lips together.

“She wants to be under our control, no? We are clothed, she is naked, you see the control?”

“Yes, I see it, but…”

It’s unbearable, so I sit up and nudge them both. Like clockwork the two glare at me, two piecing, blue stares locked onto me as though I’d interrupted some important discussion, like I am not a part of it. “Actually, I like Illya’s idea.”

“Hey, you don’t call the shots.” Napoleon quips, but he knows he lost. He steps back to allow his Russian partner to continue, watching him closely in case there’s something he can pick up on, something to criticize.

Illya is unfazed. He looks over my body as I lay back down, considering what to do next.

“Put your hands above your head and close your eyes.” He orders. I do so, placing my arms up, my fingers intertwining with each other. I feel utterly exposed, nervously so. I don’t think I’ve ever had this sort of fantasy play out with two experienced participants, if at all. I keep my slender legs crossed, one over the other, just for until I build up some more confidence under the gaze of my partners. It also makes me more anxious to think that I must close my own eyes. I’ll have to totally trust them. Illya really knows what he’s doing. He knows how I want to feel, how I can feel totally in his and Napoleon’s control, without restraining me or ever having touch me. My eyelids slowly close, stealing from me my one security. Now, my ears react to every small sound, the shuffles, soft footsteps, the distinct rustles of clothing against clothing. I have no idea what’s going on in front of me and I have the urge to look that burns into my will power. As an agent, we have to be aware at all times. There is rarely a moment when we’re not.

Right now, I’m aware of nothing.

Not anything until someone’s weight bares down on the mattress next to my leg. Judging by the feeling of the fabric rubbing against my thigh, I assume it’s one of the boy’s legs planting its self on the bed as one of them crawls up and…

…two sets of finger descend on my wrists, some covered by fabric. They weave whatever item of clothing it is around my hands, then ties them together tightly. Between my limbs, I feel a metal pole I assume to be the headboard. They’ve tied me to the headboard… nice.

“Open your eyes.” Napoleon’s voice has never sounded so distinctive as it just has. His breath curls over my cheek. When I look, I see his chiselled face above me, his whole body hovering above mine, his thick arms and muscles popping as they hold him up. My breath hitches, I can’t  stop it. This is what I have dreamt of for a long time.

“What should we do with her like this, Peril?” He laughs, teasing me with ‘accidental’ touches, his lips hovering so close to mine that I feel his words.

“I have ideas, but you have to get off her if you want to do them.” Illya’s voice comes from a light place behind Napoleon’s shadow-streaked face.

“Of course, of course.” The American says as he crawls away, his body flexing beneath his tailored, navy blue suit. I suddenly notice the lack of his tie and the opened op buttons of his dress shirt. He must’ve tied me up quite literally, using his tie.

Illya isn’t wearing a suit, he’s wearing a grey turtle neck. It’s a lot tighter than his partner’s clothing. I see more of his fit chest.

[worksofphiction]

(leprompt if u wanna write pwease)tired,underrated&worried fantasy-authorphil struggles to maintain his happy&bubbly personality as his very low book sales are no longer enough to support his dying mother. imagine dan's surprised fangirling as his favauthor just walks into the cafe & becomes his coworker one rainyday but he quickly discovers theres more to the man then well-crafted words/Phil falls slowly into hopelessness,lonelines & despair as his loving mum fades away& Dan? Dan falls in love.

You Can’t Tackle Your Demons on Your Own

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Dan is obsessed with a series of books by the amazing author, Phil Lester. He spends his time at the coffee shop he works at reading the books over and over again in the closet. When he meets a new co-worker who is also named Phil, they go on a date. Little does Dan know, he’s sharing a cup of coffee with the author he’s considered his best friend for years.As he gets to know Phil, he finds that Phil is housing a destructive secret. Why did Phil apply to work at The Brew Bean in the first place and what happens when Phil starts breaking away, piece by piece? Can Dan save his beloved author or is Phil going to fall slowly and hopelessly into loneliness and despair? All the while, Dan is falling in love.Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Sex, You’re Gonna CryWord Count: 21,897Reading Time: 01:20:43Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

This was certainly one of the hardest fics I’ve ever had to write. It’s really sad and I’ve cried so many times writing it.I hope you all enjoy my pain and suffering.

…and nothing made Striker happier than slaying the dragon he sought out to tackle. He made sure to wipe off the blood from his sword before returning it to its sheath and he faced his lover on the left. Embracing him and passionately planting a kiss on his lips, Striker felt whole again. That is, until his next quest.

Dan Howell shut the novel he had read at least 15 times already and took a sip of his coffee. His shift was almost over and it was dead. The coffee shop he worked in never saw a lot of foot traffic and when it rained, the business always slowed. He figured out pretty quickly that bringing a book was always smart. Especially when the sky opened up like this.

“Howell, go pack up all the lemon cakes, would ya?” His boss, a lovely woman named Louise, chirped at him. “I don’t think we’ll need anymore today and I’d rather not have to make more in the morning if they spoil.”

Dan stood up straight and tucked his book under the counter as he went to do a task he’d done more times than he could count.

Dan had worked at The Brew Bean for nearly three years now. He moved to Manchester for school and when that didn’t work - because Law was never really his thing - he dropped out and picked up a full-time position at the coffee shop he used to only work at a couple days a week. The tips were good, it paid rent and he could live in the city that he had fallen in love with. Manchester was his second favorite thing. His first favorite thing was Phil Lester, a novelist that wrote fantasy and supplied Dan with a book a year since he was 17. Now he was 23 and the most experienced worker at The Brew Bean where he could serve the city of Manchester while reading his books all day long.

“Please tell me you’re doing something interesting this weekend,” Louise came up beside him, nudging him as she began to put plastic wrap over a lemon cake.

“I told you, I’m not doing anything. I don’t know why you gave me the whole weekend off,” Dan groaned, suddenly remembering that it was Friday and Louise had ‘blessed’ him with two days off. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in tomorrow and help you-”

“Howell, I gave you those days off so you could go do something fun for a change! When’s the last time you looked up from those little novels you always have your nose in?” Louise teased. “I swear you’ve read the same book more times than I’ve seen my husband naked.”

Dan cringed and shook his head, letting the hair fall into his face and hide the blush.

“Besides, I have an interview this weekend. Wouldn’t want you to scare them off. It’s the first application we’ve had here since last year!” Louise collected the lemon cakes that she had wrapped and a few from Dan’s hand, putting them into the fridge behind them. “And you remember how that went.”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t scare her off! She came on to me and I told her I wasn’t interested! It’s not my fault she can’t take a hint,” Dan scoffed, remembering the bubbly chick that worked with him for four days, conveniently disappearing after Dan rejected her confession of attraction. It wasn’t Dan’s job to date his heterosexual co-workers. He didn’t even feel bad when she came in a month later to apologize to Louise and pick up a paycheck. “Second of all, don’t you think I should be here? You know, to train them or something?”

“Nice try, Sweetie. He doesn’t start until next week. I’ll need you then,” she chirped. “Consider it a vacation. You’ll be training next week.”

“Ugh,” Dan groaned. “I hope this weekend doesn’t cost me my ability to pay rent, because-”

“Oh, hush. You have worked plenty of overtime. You can’t possibly buy enough Mario Kart expansion packs to make a dent in your rent money.”

“Mario Kart doesn’t have-”

“Howell.”

“Okay okay.” He might as well give up. Once Louise was set in her ways, it was like her mind couldn’t be changed. He decided to change the subject. “So you said it was a he? What’s this new guy like?”

“I don’t know. He only called. I’ll meet him this weekend,” Louise answered. Dan nodded. “Sounds nice though. A tad northern. But I couldn’t tell over my cell.”

“Interesting. I wonder how old he is. We could use a little grunt around here,” Dan flashed Louise a wicked grin and she hit him in the arm.

“Go sweep up and then I’m sending you home.”

“Sick of me, are ya?”

“Quite.”

Dan hugged his book under his jacket as he darted for his apartment building. Luckily, he made the last bus just in time and now he had to endure the rainfall for a few minutes while he trekked the last two blocks. He didn’t mind the rain, especially when he was headed home. At least his hobbit hair wouldn’t be revealed to anyone but him.

He wasn’t angry at Louise because most of the time she was trying to do the right thing, but he honestly had no plans for the weekend. He didn’t have much of a social life - considering he wasn’t in school and it was just Louise and him at work. He hadn’t been home to see his parents in a while, however, sometimes he felt like they didn’t really want him to visit. Once he dropped out of Law school, he was afraid to go home because he wasn’t sure what their reactions would be. He knew it was the right choice, but that left Dan on his lonesome for most nights and days off. Luckily for him, he rarely was at home, which would also explain the mess.

He kicked off his wet shoes and headed for the bedroom to strip and shower. All the while, thinking about how he would spend his weekend.

Phil Lester usually released his new novels at the end of November and that meant Dan still had a month left to wait for the next in the series. This also meant that Dan had spent nearly a year with the last one. He had read it more times than the others, probably because he thought it was the best one. The perfect balance of adventure, romance, and mystery. Phil was good at that. Leaving people on the edge of their seats.

Dan did not understand why more people didn’t read Phil Lester’s novels. He wasn’t terribly popular and it was kind of by chance that Dan found his novels in the first place. He was hanging out in the library after his A-Level exams, helping the librarian organize a few of their shelves when he stumbled upon a box of books that had never been checked out and were being sent to the local thrift shop. Dan remembered thinking that no book belongs in a thrift shop and he dug through the box in search of a few he could save from their eternal dusty shelf life. Phil Lester’s first book sat at the bottom of the box underneath the rest. The cover was green and blue and there was a gnarly picture of a dragon. He flipped it over and read the back, instantly intrigued.

Striker is in danger, but nobody will believe him. What happens when you’re being hunted by a killer that nobody can see? Battling an invisible force, tackling an unexpected dragon and possibly sparking a romance with his partner Samuel, Striker leaves home and does his best to survive. Will he convince people that he’s trying to be a hero, or is he destined to be a flop who’s imagination runs wild?

Phil’s books were always so action packed and interesting, laced with a little bit of humor and dorkiness. Not to mention, Phil’s characters were always gay, which was hard to find in the library in 2008. As expected, he read the whole thing in one night and absolutely loved it. The day after, he spent hours trying to learn about the author. Sadly, Phil was quite shy about his appearance and he never let himself behind a camera. Nobody knew what he looked like or what his life was like. Aside from the obvious speculations from his writing that perhaps he was gay, there wasn’t much out there about him. Dan was thrilled when he found out there would be a new novel each year, essentially falling in love with an author for one reason and one reason only - his novels seemed to speak directly to Dan Howell.

As he stood under the water in the shower, he thought about spending the weekend re-reading a few of his novels. Maybe revisiting the first, just in preparation for the new one. God, how lame was Dan Howell? Rereading the same series of books over and over again.

That’s what you get when your best friend is an author you’ve never met.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, preparing for a weekend of hot cocoa and Phil Lester.

“You mean to tell me, that you did literally nothing this weekend? You just read some stupid books?” Louise teased. She always told him that he took a healthy thing and turned it into the most unhealthy hobby in the world. Reading was supposed to expand the mind, however, by rereading the same novels and practically memorizing their entire plot line, he was only turning his mind to mush. Or so Louise said. He knew she was kind of right, but he couldn’t make himself stop. He was Phil trash number one and nothing could change that.

“I had fun. Is that what you want to hear?” Dan mocked as he tied his black apron around his waist. “You told me to have fun and that’s exactly what I did.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“I know,” Dan admitted, not even trying to argue.“You were the one who gave me the days off. I didn’t ask for a weekend out on the town!” He playfully pushed her and she sighed. “Now if you’re done judging my social life, then how about you tell me about the new guy?”

Louise looked at him with slitted eyes, clearly not finished with the conversation they were having, but her eyes softened a moment later when it seemed she remembered their new employee.

“Oh, he’s a sweetheart. He was very nice. I’m sure you two will get along,” she praised, wiping down the counter they stood behind, getting the surface ready for some snickerdoodles.

“Ah, he’s nice. So is my mom’s dog,” Dan rolled his eyes. “Come on, Louise! How old is he? Is he tall? Does he have purple eyes and a seven-foot beard? You have to give me something here!”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. He’s coming in at 11:00,” she teased, sticking her tongue out. So this was revenge for the wasted weekend. Dan knew Louise’s game. Dan glanced at the clock. It was 7:30.  “Besides, I’ll leave the getting to know each other part for you to figure out. As long as he can make coffee, sweep the floors and work a register, I don’t care what he does in his spare time. I didn’t ask.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m your boss.”

“I know. And every day I’m getting closer to the day I quit.”

“You’ll never quit Howell. I think you would die if you had to leave this place.” Louise’s tone was laced with a tone that wasn’t there before. She was a mother to a child named Darcy, a beautiful young girl who had golden locks like her mother. Louise was used to being protective and protective she was. She mothered Dan as much as she mothered her own kin, so sometimes, when she talked about his future and he mentioned he wanted to work at The Brew Bean for another ten years, she always tried to convince him to do something else. Something more worth his time. But Dan, as usual, would roll his eyes and tell her that it didn’t matter. Money is money and he liked serving coffee. He was more at home in this coffee shop than he ever felt anywhere else. “Now go take the chairs off the tables before we open at 8:00 or I will make you quit today.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The hours inched by slowly. The usual morning rush hit them a little earlier than they were used to. Mondays were rough for everyone and usually, a cup of Joe will do the trick. Dan was making pot after pot while Louise worked the register. Once business slowed, Dan cleaned the tables for the next lunch rush as he prepared another pot for himself and the new guy, who would be coming in any minute.

“I’m gonna go sit in the back and read. Let me know when I’m needed for training,” Dan announced, once all of the post-morning rush chores were done. Louise raised her eyebrows while she counted their tips for the morning in an effort to tell Dan it was fine. It’s not like he didn’t do this every day or anything.

Dan cracked the weathered spine of the book he’d read at least 30 times over, skipping straight to his favorite scene in chapter 13. It was his favorite after all.

Striker’s blade had dulled and the wind was picking up. Most would say that he was at a disadvantage, however, he knew that nothing could stop him. He was being fueled by something impossible to dull. The feeling of a full heart and the ghost of a pair of lips on his own. He sat beside a tree that was twisting up to the heavens. Something about the knots in the trunk told Striker that this tree was ancient. His grandmother, a rumored psychic, told him that old trees were good luck on an adventure. Stroking it gently, he looked at his reflection in the sword. His own blue eyes seemed rather dull, like his blade, in comparison to the brown eyes he was just looking into. Even though Samuel was worlds away, it was like he was right beside him on this quest for-

“Dan!” Louise called from the front. Dan startled a little, admittedly getting into the book as if it were the first time he’d ever read it. “Get out of the closet.”

Dan cringed. He knew it was a joke, Louise knew full well that he was gay and already out of the closet, but every time she needed him, she said the same five words. He only hoped that nobody heard her.

He closed the book, not needing a bookmark because he knew exactly where he was, and slid it on the shelf next to the pile of boxes he was just sitting upon. He stood and stretched his arms above his head, sighing and pulling his lanky body from the quiet of the storage closet. As he walked towards the front, he heard a chipper Louise talking to someone.

He rounded the corner and tried not to gasp.

His new co-worker was tall. Nearly as tall as Dan himself. Nobody was as tall as Dan. That was a feat. He walked slowly as to not draw attention to himself and observed from afar for a moment. The boy had black hair, styled exactly like Dan’s but flipped, the most striking blue eyes he’d ever seen, a baby pink mouth with teeth that were only a little crooked when he smiled and a little endearing hunch that made him look like he was always ready to greet you. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he nodded along to whatever Louise was saying.

Whatever Louise was saying, was actually about Dan. “…he always just sits in the back and reads his stupid novels. That boy is obsessed with this one author, I don’t remember who-”

Phil’s eyes turned and met Dan’s, who’s mouth quivered up into a smile. He wasn’t nervous, just a little shocked that someone this pretty wanted to work for The Brew Bean in the first place. Louise turned around and her smile brightened.

“Ah! The man himself! Dan, this is Phil. He’s your new grunt,” She winked and referenced the word he used yesterday and Dan’s cheeks went a rosy pink. Great. Now Phil thought he was an asshole. He extended his hand for a shake and Phil’s soft warm one found it.

“Hi. I promise I said that in the most loving way possible,” he tried to claim. “And your name is Phil? That’s funny. One of my fav-”

“As much as I’d love to witness the construction of you two’s friendship…” Louise started, receiving Dan’s little smirk and the roll of his eyes clearly, “We have a lunch rush to prepare for. Dan, why don’t you show Phil where everything is?”

“Sure.” Dan smiled and nodded, giving the new guy a look of ‘I swear you’ll get used to her’.

He watched Louise walk away and Phil’s eyes land on his own. He considered finishing his little fun fact but then realized that this guy wouldn’t care that his name was the same as some random author of Dan’s adolescent years. He silently thanked Louise for interrupting him in the first place.

“So it’s all pretty self-explanatory. The coffee machine is there, we have different roasts so as long as we rebrew one when it’s out, we should never really run out of coffee.” He pointed to the two coffee makers on the left with the green lids. “These are decaf. Make sure not to mix the two up, because trust me when I say Mr. Jenkins will be angry if he doesn’t get his morning caffeine.” Dan laughed a little at his own joke, thankfully Phil followed and chuckled as well. “This is the register, I’ll teach you how to use that later. It’s pretty simple. You just basically punch a bunch of numbers and hope the drawer will pop open.”

Phil followed him back towards the storage area and opened the closet door.

“This is where we have extra bags of coffee, cups, dishes, and anything that can be stored without a fridge. Then the cold stuff goes in the fridge up front,” he closed the door and walked around to the dish station. “And that’s where we clean shit. But hopefully, they won’t make you do the grunt work today. Despite what I said.” Dan smiled and crossed his arms. “That will be my job tonight.”

Phil laughed and looked at his feet while nodding.

“That is the floor. We clean it once a day,” Dan smirked. “Don’t look at it too closely though and definitely don’t eat anything that drops on it.”

“Noted,” Phil said, removing his eyes from the floor and meeting Dan’s. Dan looked around to see if there was anything else he needed to show Phil, eventually leading him back up front.

“So I guess you’ll be shadowing me today then.” He looked around for Louise and saw no sight of her. She was most likely in the office sorting out schedules. Now that there was another human on board, she would have to remake their usual schedule. “Have any questions?”

Phil looked contemplative for a moment and then he shook his head.

“Great! Making my job easier,” Dan said as he slumped back against the counter. “So.” He pushed his lips into a straight line, giving his dimple a cameo. “What brings you here, Phil?”

For what seemed like no reason, Phil’s face fell and it looked like he was struggling with something to say. Dan’s eyes expanded slightly as he tried to figure out why that question would warrant such a response. He was good at small talk because that’s what he did all day. Nobody has ever made a face like that when he asked that. Usually, the answer is “a cup of Joe” or “I have some time to kill.” He supposed that Phil’s answer would be different because he was an employee and not just someone coming in to buy a coffee.

“Sorry, you don’t have to-”

“I have another job. But it doesn’t really pay well. And I have some…personal affairs that require a bigger paycheck,” the guy said, his eyes finding Dan’s again, the light somehow lesser than before. “But not to worry! I’m kind of almost done with my other job. It’s not really working out.”

Dan frowned. “Well that’s a bummer, what do you do?”

Phil looked like he was about to answer when the sound of a string of bells signaled the presence of a customer.

“Hold that thought.” Dan swiveled and faced the register, his mouth turning up into a smile as he greeted the young lady. “Hi! Welcome to The Brew Bean. What can I get you?”

After paying for two coffees and insisting her date was on his way, she went to sit down by the window.

“Not sure why everyone who shows up alone needs to insist their date is on the way. I don’t care,” Dan laughed, directing this comment at Phil who also chuckled. He got a mug from the cart beneath the machines and poured the woman her coffee. “You want to bring it to her?”

Phil nodded and took the coffee. Just before Dan let go, Phil’s arm wobbled a little and he almost lost the cup completely. Thank goodness Dan was still holding on.

“Woah. You got it?” His eyes crinkled with the question, his teeth showing in a friendly smile. “Don’t worry. You’ll learn to balance like five cups at a time. It doesn’t take long to become a coffee juggler.”

Phil flashed him a worried glance, something Dan read as ‘I’m too clumsy for that’ and as Phil walked slowly to the table with the coffee, Dan knew he read right. This guy was going to break some mugs. Dan could tell.

Surprisingly, he made it to the table no problem, smiling at the woman and striking up a little conversation. Dan couldn’t hear much but he admired the boy’s charisma. He seemed to really like to chat, especially with strangers. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be so terrible. Maybe Louise would finally get off his back about the reading thing if he could make a little work friend while he was here.

“He’s a cutie, isn’t he?” Louise popped out of nowhere and made Dan jump. They were both watching Phil explain something to this woman who was laughing hysterically as Phil waved his arms around in front of her. Dan didn’t even register that he was nodding. “Don’t think I missed your little heart eyes. Something tells me you find him attractive?”

“Shut up…” Dan said, but he didn’t mean it. She was right. She was always right.

“It’s a good thing he’s single,” Louise piped in. Dan’s eyes widened and he looked at her.

“How do you know?” he asked as Louise just smiled.

“What kind of questions do you think I have to ask during an interview?” She said, a mischievous tone in her voice now. “I need to know if there are any outside factors that might affect a work schedule.”

“You’re terrible! Who let you open this place in the first place?” Dan asked, his cheeks returning to the normal shade after a dangerous thought he had about his brand new co-worker.

“I don’t know. But don’t tell me you didn’t want to hear that,” Louise waggled her eyebrows at him and he shook his head, turning away from her and towards the coffee maker, checking to make sure it was still hot. “Maybe you should ask if he wants to get coffee sometime.”

Dan shook his head.

“Mmhmm, yeah, sure. Hey, Phil, I know we both work in a coffee shop but how would you like to go get some coffee with me sometime?”

“I would love to,” a voice that was certainly not Louise’s answered behind him. Dan spun around and his wide eyes met Phil’s dazzling blue ones. He blinked a couple of times, forgetting the question he just asked and then smiled, trying to cover up how startled he was. “Unless that question was meant for another Phil…in which I’ll just leave you to it.”

Dan huffed out a laugh and nodded. He thought about the other Phil in his life and bit his lip as he imagined what it would be like asking that Phil out. This Phil was far less scary.

“No, no. You’re the right Phil,” he smiled brighter, promising to kill Louise later, putting his nerves aside. “I have to close tonight. Why don’t you stick around and we can do coffee before we both leave?”

Phil beamed and he nodded.

“Not gonna lie, I thought it would take at least a few weeks for you to ask me out,” Phil smirked, his tooth finding his own lip and his cheeks flushing a little. “Plus, I’d love to get to know you. All I know is that apparently, you’re a giant nerd.”

“Louise…” Dan cursed, his hands landing on his hips. “It’s true. I am. But she makes it sound so lame.”

“She said something about Mario Kart expansion packs…?” Phil teased. “Please tell me she’s not direct quoting here?”

Dan rolled his eyes and let out a familiar laugh.

The rest of their shift ran pretty smoothly. Phil stuck to Dan’s side like glue, his eyes intently watching as Dan did everything. Lucky for Dan, he was rather confident about his barista skills. He’d been doing it for long enough anyway. Phil or no Phil, he always did his best to please every customer.

He kept himself talking about the job, explaining to Phil what his duties would be once he actually started, giving him instructions as he went about his daily tasks. He also shared some stories about some of the customers he’s had to deal with in the past. He warned Phil about the regulars, telling him that some were a nightmare and would be able to tell if their coffee didn’t have exactly four sugars.

Louise left around 5:00 pm, leaving Dan and Phil to close the store at 8:00. Usually, on a Monday, they didn’t get many people after 7:00 and Phil was a huge help with the closing duties. They pretty much put everything away except for one coffee machine that they left up and running and one table that they planned to sit at for a bit after they closed.

“I think we can probably flip the sign now. I don’t think anyone else is coming in,” Dan said as he checked the clock on the register. “Will you do that for me? Lock the door and all that?”

Phil nodded and saluted him, his eyes bright and his smile warm.

Dan hadn’t really thought about the ‘date’ he was about to go on, but he smiled when he realized how cute this man was. His mind was on training, not romance, but now that they were nearly done, he was starting to get nervous. He hadn’t been on a date since secondary school and although this was usually something he would be stressing out about, there was something about Phil that seemed so familiar and bright. Comforting to the degree that Dan wasn’t really scared at all. He had the confidence to train the man, how hard could going on a date really be?

When Phil skipped back up to the counter, instead of going around it to where they had been standing all day, he put his elbow down against the wooden bar and leaned against it. “Hello. I would like to place an order for two coffees, one for me and one for my date who…” Phil turned and looked towards the door. “Is on his way.”

Dan tried not to smile, but he couldn’t not laugh at that. He raised his eyebrows and tried really hard to give Phil a look of disappointment for doing exactly what that lady had done before, but it just looked fond.

“Sure thing,” Dan responded, sighing and getting out two mugs from beneath the counter. “But for future reference, I don’t care that your date is on his way. That’s none of my business.”

Phil frowned playfully.

“Excuse me sir, but I am a customer!” Phil role-played. “I deserve your full respect. In fact, who’s in charge here!? I’d like to speak to them, please!”

Dan couldn’t believe he was going through this right now. Not even Louise would pull this little game and Dan was loving it.

“I’m in charge here. And unless that date of yours is coming from inside the building, it seems the door has been locked,” Dan teased. “Looks like you’ll have to drink both coffees by yourself.”

Dan placed the two fresh coffees on the counter in front of Phil and he smirked down at them.

“Well…” he hesitated and gestured toward their soon-to-be table. “Now that I don’t have a date, care to sit?”

Dan grinned. God this man had a way with words. No wonder Dan found him so attractive. He loved a man with a fanciful imagination.

“I guess you’ve left me no choice.” Dan gave in to the fake argument and nodded his head once to signal the win. “Why don’t you sit down. I’ll bring you your drink.”

Phil stared at Dan for one more moment with a touch of light behind his eyes, only to turn and stride towards the last table that was set up in the dining room. Dan watched him for a second before grabbing the two cups and following him over to the seat that Phil had kindly pulled out for Dan.

“Why thank you,” Dan played along, sitting his ass down and waiting for Phil to sit across from him. When he finally sat, their eyes made contact and the two just broke into laughter.

For a whole minute, they laughed, Dan’s head ending up on the table. This guy was amazing! They got along so well it was almost unbelievable. Here’s to hoping the date goes as well as their shift did.

“So Dan,” Phil said, sipping his coffee with tentative lips. The coffee was hot and Phil was no doubt doing this for comedic effect.

“So Phil.”

“Tell me. What is a man like you, doing in a place like this?” Phil asked, Dan’s threshold for cheesy questions was usually pretty low, but for Phil, he’d allow it. “Maybe I should start with asking how old you are?”

“Twenty-three.” Dan got the easier answer out of the way while he thought about a better answer for the first question. “And I’ve lived in Manchester for about four years now, I’ve worked here for just as long, and I like it here so I see no reason to leave.”

“That’s fair,” Phil added. “It’s a nice place.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to lose your job,” Dan guessed, smirking as he did. He wasn’t touching his coffee just yet, knowing how hot it was when it first came from the pot.

“No seriously. I could have chosen anywhere to work and I chose this place for two reasons. 80% of the reason was that I love coffee more than life itself, but I can assure you, 19% of the reason was for the aesthetic,” Phil said proudly.

“And the leftover 1%?”

“The barista was pretty cute.” Phil’s tone deepened when he said it, his eyes flashing Dan with a little bit of mischief.

“Is that so?”

“Yup.” Phil nodded.

“So you’ve been here before?” Dan asked, curious how he missed such a beautiful man. The place was small. He worked every day. He was sure he would have noticed someone like Phil.

“Months ago…” Phil traced circles on the table in front of him. “I have been kind of stuck at home the last few months…working.” He sighed. “I used to come here with my mother. But she hasn’t…made it down here in a while.”

“Well maybe now that you work here, she’ll stop by!” Dan smiled, finally reaching for his cup and taking a sip.

“Maybe…” Phil looked like the little touch of sadness had flooded behind his eyes again and Dan wished only to make it go away. He changed the subject.

“So you know I’m a nerd. Am I looking at another nerd or is it just me?” Dan asked, hoping to lighten the conversation. It seemed to work as Phil kind of chuckled.

“Are you asking if I have any Mario Kart expansion packs you can borrow?”

“I’m asking for a friend.”

Phil laughed.

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a nerd,” Phil admitted. “Okay…maybe I’m a huge nerd. But don’t tell Louise because I see the way she talks about you and your ‘reading’ hobby.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, what did she say, that I’m turning my brain to mush with all the books I read?”

“Well, not those words exactly, but yes. Something of the like.” Phil smiled compassionately at Dan. “For the record, I don’t think reading is a waste of time. It’s a great way to escape.”

“Exactly!” Dan was glad that Phil wasn’t going to judge him for his reading habits. He didn’t need another person to criticize him for his one and only hobby. “I don’t have a lot of-” Friends. “…social obligations. So I spend a lot of time reading.”

“I totally understand. I’m the same way,” Phil’s eyes were soft and understanding. Dan wondered what kind of books Phil liked to read, but he felt like that might be a strange question to ask, especially when he didn’t know Phil all that well.

“Well, I hope you won’t find it offensive if I’m off reading while we wait out those slow days. I would bring a book too if I were you. You’ll probably need it and Louise doesn’t like us using our phones on the job.”

“But she lets you read?” Phil gasped. “Shocker.”

“She’s a strange one…if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have,” Phil nodded. “But she seems sweet.”

“She is.”

There was a moment of silence while they both sipped their coffee, enjoying the sound of an empty coffee shop. Dan looked out the window and noticed how dark it had gotten and he fought a yawn. He wasn’t tired, but usually, he was well on his way to his own apartment by now. With very little friends, he didn’t have much of a reason to stay up late. He was generally in bed by 12:00 am at the latest. After having a cheeky scroll through the internet or playing a bit of Guild Wars by himself, he clocked out rather early.

“Do you live far from here?” He asked while he was thinking about his apartment.

“Are you asking me to take you home? And on the first date as well?” Phil pretended to be appalled at the boy’s forward question. Dan’s cheeks became flushed and he hoped the low lighting would hide the color.

“N-no, I just didn’t know if you lived far or-”

Phil seemed to realize his flustered behavior and corrected himself gently.

“Sorry. I was joking,” he laughed it off. “Yeah, I live a couple blocks away.”

“Oh. You’re closer than I am. I have to take a bus. Or else I have to walk about 30 minutes,” Dan said, suddenly realizing that he had missed the last bus and he was going to have to do that walk tonight. He didn’t mind as it was pretty nice out, but he wasn’t necessarily planning on having to account for that this evening. “I was closer when I went to school at Manchester.”

“You went to Manchester?” Phil’s face lit up. “What for?”

“Law.”

Phil’s eyes widened. He didn’t need to say anything else for Dan to get it.

“I know, I know. I don’t look like a lawyer.” He put his head in his hands and shook it. “That’s why I dropped out.”

“Ah.” Phil nodded, without following the one syllable reaction with a question like why or will you ever go back? That was nice of him.

Dan could feel this conversation going in a direction he didn’t want it to go to, so he changed the subject again by asking about Phil.

“So how old are you, then? Because if I had to guess, I would assume like, 24.”

“Wow! Thanks!” Phil exclaimed, his hands clasping together. “I’m 27. But I hope I stay looking young forever!” He leaned in closer to Dan. “I’ll tell you a secret if you want.”

“Shoot.” Dan leaned in to meet him. Their noses were only inches apart and Dan’s eyes flicked down to Phil’s lips. He hoped Phil hadn’t noticed.

“My grandmother was a psychic…” Phil started. “And she looked young until the day she died. She always said that her psychic powers transferred down to me. I’m hoping the ‘looking young’ thing also runs in the family.”

He leaned back in his chair and Dan slowly leaned back into his. His eyebrows furrowed. He swore there was something familiar about that secret, but he didn’t quite know where to pin it.

“That’s pretty cool,” Dan said. “That your grandma was a psychic, I mean. A lot of people don’t believe in that stuff.”

“I do.” Phil said, far too quickly. “Most say I have quite the imagination.”

“Me too.”

“You must. Especially if you read as much as I’m getting the impression you do,” Phil assumed, giving Dan a shrug. “Let me guess. Fantasy is your genre?”

Dan’s smile grew.

“How did you know?”

“It’s written all over your face.” Phil was slipping the last of his coffee into his mouth, tilting his head back to get it all from the mug. “Plus, I know fantasy. Fantasy and I are great friends.”

Dan laughed at the way Phil phrased that. It’s funny because he always said the same thing.

It was then that he decided it would be worth sharing a little about his hobby. He could trust Phil, right? He wouldn’t make fun of him. Not if they shared the same friend.

“You know what’s funny?” Dan asked, anticipating that Phil would want to know what he was silently chuckling about a moment before.

“Hm?”

“I have this author. One that writes this amazing series. And at this point, I’ve read his books so many times, that I would consider him a friend,” Dan laughed at himself. Saying it out loud made it seem so childish. Like he fostered some imaginary friend in his mind that he talked to when he was alone. “His writing just speaks to me. As if it were written directly for my ears…er…eyes.”

Phil was looking at him with curiosity.

“God, I wish I had readers like you…” Phil said quietly, his eyes going to his lap.

“Huh?”

Phil paused for a moment and then returned his gaze to Dan, his smile not quite as full as it was only moments before.

“I dabble a little in the writing department,” Phil spoke slowly like he was being careful with his words. Like he was embarrassed to admit this secret. Dan’s eyes lit up.

“You do?”

“Yeah…but I don’t have nearly the following as it seems your favorite has,” Phil said sadly. “That’s actually why um…” He cleared his throat. “Why I had to get another job. My books aren’t selling as much as I wish.” He laughed a little at himself. “But who’s books are, right?”

Dan was looking at Phil with concern. He looked like he was hiding something. Something deep beneath the surface. Something behind the blue eyes and the pristine personality.

“To be fair, the series I’m into isn’t even that popular. I just…really love the writing and the stories are just…” Dan looked up to find the words. “So captivating.” His cheeks felt warm as if his body was rewarding him for praising his favorite. “I can’t stop reading his books. Over and over and over again.”

Phil nodded and looked at his empty cup. Dan hoped he wasn’t making him feel bad. He didn’t want Phil to feel like his books weren’t good enough. He didn’t want Phil to think that Dan wasn’t interested. Instead of changing the subject this time, he decided to ask what he thought might brighten Phil’s mood.

“What uh…what’s your last name? Maybe I can check out your books sometime. I’m sure you’re a really great writer! I’ve been reading the same books over and over again. So maybe it’s time I find some better material,” Dan joked, knowing inside that nothing could ever come before his favorite author. But if it made Phil feel better, if it made Phil’s smile come back, then it was worth the trouble of at least peeling back a cover.

“Oh, uh, Lester,” Phil mumbled, his eyes darting out the window as if he was embarrassed to speak his own name.

Dan’s face paled.

His heart stopped beating in his chest.

There was absolutely no fucking way.

Not a chance

The Phil sitting across from him, the Phil he had been training all day, the Phil he was currently on a date with…was the Phil that he had been gushing over since he was 17.

No fucking way.

This Phil was the same Phil who invented the most captivating series Dan had ever read.

This Phil was the same Phil that built a world of dragons and demons and all sorts of creatures that Dan only dreamt of learning more about.

This Phil was the same Phil that had been his best friend when nobody else had wanted to be.

This Phil was the same Phil that was now looking at him with concern written all over his face.

“Dan?” He asked, probably noticing how pale Dan had gotten and how his hands were shaking as they held the mug.

“Uhhh-…I uh…I need to…hangononesecond,” Dan muttered, getting up and scooting his chair with a loud screech. “Berightback.”

Phil looked alarmed as Dan darted back behind the counter and out of sight so he could have a moment to breathe. This was certainly not how he expected to meet his idol. Not this casually at least. He opened the storage closet and sat on the box that had dented from his earlier sit. He took a number of deep breaths as his eyes landed on the little blue and green book that was tucked onto a shelf beneath the spare cups. His shaky hand reached for the tattered book, the first book he ever owned of Phil’s, and he flipped through the first few pages.

He could not believe this was happening.

But at the same time, it made so much sense. Phil was actually the spitting image of his character. Striker was described as tall and raven-haired, his skin pale and his eyes blue. Dan had always assumed that Phil modeled the character after himself but it didn’t click until now how much Phil looked like the character he had fallen in love with.

He felt stupid now.

However, as much as he wanted to sit and hyperventilate until Phil eventually left him, he figured it would be rude to leave him with zero explanation. So with eight more deep breaths, he hugged the novel to his chest and left the closet for the second time that day. This time, with much less confidence.

He reappeared behind the counter where he could see Phil slumping in the chair and stirring Dan’s coffee with a spoon. He looked confused and possibly a little offended. Dan’s heart hurt knowing that he had done that to his favorite author.

He walked over and sat back down, the book falling into his lap where Phil couldn’t see it and he watched as Phil looked up at him with the most confused expression Dan had ever seen on another human being.

“I don’t know much about you Dan, but does that happen a lot because if it does I need to be prepared for next time you-”

“Phil.” Dan’s words came out so quietly. He was saying Phil’s name. Phil Lester’s name. Holy shit. This was a lot to handle. He was surprised he was even able to speak at all. In his dreams, the ones where he met Phil, he could never talk. Not even in his dreams did he had this opportunity.

He decided that words weren’t even his best plan of attack. He had no idea what to say or how to explain, so he just got a firm grip on the book with his one hand, pushed his coffee cup out of the way and then slowly brought the book up to the table. He placed it down gently, watching as Phil’s eye actually twitched.

He stared for a long time. A longer time than Dan had taken to himself in the closet. Dan wasn’t going to question it, but Phil looked like he was concentrating very hard. He seemed to be piecing things together in his mind. He was most likely taking in the age of the book, the weathered condition, the many many doggy ears on the corners, the coffee stains on the sides, the destroyed spine and the book’s presence in the first place. All these things could tell you one thing and one thing only. Dan fucking loved that book. If this was the same Phil that Dan had grown up reading, he was getting that impression and Dan was so damn nervous.

Then Dan froze. He had been subtly watching Phil watch the book and Phil, who was sporting a rather blank expression, was now tearing up and a drop of salty water hit the table. Dan would have gasped if he didn’t think the noise would break the man before him.

Phil’s tears only multiplied and suddenly, Dan was staring at a 27-year-old genius who was crying on a date. Who the fuck knew Dan’s evening would go like this?

After a significant period of time, Dan spoke up. If only to make this less awkward.

“Phil…are you uh…okay?”

Phil slowly raised his eyes to Dan and a smile formed on his quivering lips. “Yeah…yeah, I��m sorry I’m just thinking…” His voice was weak and trembling, his eyes filled with light once again. “…thinking about the things you said about-” He pointed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about my books.”

Dan blinked. No way. Phil was an amazing writer.

“Do…do you really do that? R-read my books over and over again?”

Dan nodded like it was second nature. He couldn’t believe that was a question that Phil even dared to ask. Of course, he did. Phil Lester was his absolute favorite.

Phil nodded and he sat for a moment more before standing up abruptly and staring at Dan. Dan blinked up at him and smiled. The best smile he could. Before Phil came at him with a hug. He practically pulled Dan out of his seat and up into a standing position where Phil could embrace him into a warm and appreciating hug.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” Phil mumbled into Dan’s shoulder, his lips moving against Dan’s collar bone. “You don’t have any idea what that means to me.”

Dan didn’t know what to say, so he mumbled an “of course” and rubbed Phil’s back gently.

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe that fate worked out this way!” Phil’s smile was back and he was gripping Dan by his biceps, his whole entire face glowing. If Dan hadn’t just seen the tears, he would have assumed that none had been shed that night. He blinked a few times and he nodded. “I have met my biggest fan!”

Dan blushed.

“Imagine how I feel…” he stammered, glancing down at the book on the table. Phil’s smile fell from his face, but not in a bad way. He just seemed to realize the gravity of this situation from Dan’s eyes. Then he broke out into a laugh.

“Oh my Gosh! You’re dating your idol!”

Dan blushed even more.

“That is…” Phil’s cheeks colored. “That is if I get a second date?” He bit his lip. “Usually, when people cry on first dates, they don’t get a call back…”

Dan tried to glare at Phil but it just turned out to be a look of fondness, one he’s been shooting Phil all day.

“I don’t know…a chance to spend more time with Phil Lester?” Dan pondered aloud. “Not sure if it’s worth it…”

Phil playfully pouted.

“I know how we can find out if it is worth it!” Phil grinned, his face up to no good.

Dan was about to ask when Phil stepped closer, his body flushing up to Dan’s front.

No.

No way.

Then Phil did the unimaginable. He leaned forward and connected his lips to Dan’s and Dan felt like his whole body exploded. He had no idea what happened. His eyes shut and bright colors filled the black that he usually stared at when he closed his lids over his brown eyes. Phil’s lips felt like an escape, much like the pages of the books he wrote. Dan was lapping up the warmth when Phil gently pulled away, a smile reforming on his perfect lips as he touched his nose to Dan’s.

“I knew I’d find a Samuel one day…”

Dan’s stomach dropped to the floor and Phil laughed.

“Come on, we have a coffee shop to close!” He gave one last glance at the book sitting on the table, smiled brightly and then he picked up the coffee cups. “I’ll go wash these. Why don’t you clean off this table and we’ll lock up.”

Dan could only nod and he picked up the book, his mouth still open with delight.

He was not convinced that the past 12 hours had actually happened. He was not convinced that he was actually ‘dating’ the Phil Lester he had wondered about when he was young. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t had dreams like this. Granted, he didn’t know what Phil looked like, but the version in his head was modeled from Striker and it was scary how close to the real thing he had gotten. Weird images of past dreams flashed in his head and he couldn’t express how long he had wanted to be Striker’s Samuel.

But now…now he had it better.

He was Phil Lester’s Dan.

He could not even fathom what kind of luck he must have had to achieve his one and only dream. Not only to achieve it - meeting Phil Lester - but surpass it - dating Phil Lester.

What a world he lived in.

“You ready?” Phil asked as he broke Dan from the spell he was under. He was staring out at the dark street in front of the shop while Phil ran and made sure all the lights were off. Dan nodded and reached for the key that Louise had given him a few year back so that he could lock up without her. He locked the front door behind him and turned to face Phil.

“So…” Dan started, it suddenly dawned on him that he’d have to leave the boy here and walk in the other direction. Not to mention, he had about 30 minutes to walk by himself and he was kind of dreading it. All he wanted was to lay down on his cheap twin bed and think about the evening he had just had. “I guess I’ll see you…next time you work?”

Phil blinked back at him, as if tiny little cogs were spinning in his head.

“How far did you say you lived from here?” Phil asked, glancing up the street.

“Oh uh…like 30 minutes. I usually take the bus but…” Dan’s voice trailed off as he gestured to the abandoned street and the flickering street lamp.

Phil was silent for a moment and then Dan was watching as he stepped closer.

“Call me crazy…but I don’t really like the idea of you walking all of that way.” The words tumbled from his mouth as he didn’t break the eye contact that Dan was holding so dearly. “I know it’s only the first date, although you have technically known me for years, what do you say about coming home and spending the night on my couch?”

Dan blanked.

“It’s only a couple blocks and I have plenty of room…” Phil convinced, bumping his shoulder into Dan’s.

It’s not like this night could have gotten anymore fantastical. He might as well. Phil could have said anything at this point and Dan would have blindly followed him. So he nodded and Phil’s face lit up for the millionth time that night.

“Swell! Well, let’s get going then!” Before Dan could say anything else at all, Phil clutched Dan’s hand and started dragging him in the direction of his place. Dan blushed severely and listened to Phil talk about the how much he loved the city at night.

When they arrived at Phil’s place, Phil unlocked the door of the tiny townhouse and he creaked it open. He turned to Dan and his face went very somber, if only for a moment.

“Make sure you’re quiet. I don’t want to wake anyone. I’ll explain once we get into the basement,” Phil instructed. If this was some stranger, Dan might have considered this sentence as a red flag. But this was Phil. Of course, this would be completely normal.

He followed Phil through the house and when the basement door shut and they were officially downstairs, the light flicked on and Dan could immediately get a peek at Phil’s life. The life he knew nothing about until today. It was surrounding him. The blue and green sheets on the bed matched the blue and green on the cover of Phil’s first book, his desk in the corner was exactly what a writer’s desk might look like - with crumbled pieces of paper littering the floor and everything, the walls were covered in posters of great movies and awesome music, and there was even a little lounge where it seems Phil liked to sit and play various video games on the systems that Dan could see sitting pretty under the TV.

“You like my bachelor pad?” Phil laughed, walking over to the tiny fridge and getting Dan a bottle of water.

“I do…” Dan responded, not even considering that Phil’s question was most likely sarcastic.

“Well, I’m glad you like it,” Phil exclaimed, flopping himself down on the couch and patting the spot next to him. Dan could feel his feet moving to go sit next to him as he looked around the giant room some more. “I was going to move…but some uh…some plans changed and now I’m kind of stuck here for a little longer.”

Dan didn’t ask because it didn’t seem Phil wanted to explain, but he nodded in response and took a sip from the water bottle he was given. His eyes landed on the Wii that looked to still be on and he nudged Phil.

“Wanna play some Mario Kart?” He wasn’t even considering how late it was or that he was going to have to be at work the next day at 7:00 am. He just wanted to play Mario Kart with Phil and if he was tired tomorrow, he would just have to deal. Not to mention, he’d be waking up on Phil Lester’s couch.

Phil agreed and confirmed Dan’s theory about the Wii still being on when he turned on the TV and a screen full of characters appeared before them.

“I was playing before I left for work today,” Phil admitted, laughing when it showed that he was about to select Bowser. “But I bet you already assumed that.”

They started a race and Dan kicked Phil’s ass. But Dan could admit, Phil gave him a good fight. Dan was just really really good at Mario Kart. With all his ‘free time’, he played plenty and he was unusually savvy with a Wii remote.

“Alright, alright, you beat me fair and square,” Phil gave up after playing about 17 rounds and losing each one. After every single round, he begged Dan for a do-over and insisted that it was “all or nothing.” Dan was too good though and each time, he made it over the finish line before Phil could even catch up.

It wasn’t until Phil switched off the TV and there was silence in the room that Dan realized how close they were. Dan was leaning up against Phil - leftover from when he was trying to mess up the older boy with a jolt to the arm, and Phil’s arm was overlapping Dan’s shoulder. Dan wasn’t complaining and when Phil turned his head to face Dan, it seemed he made the same realization.

“I’m so glad I met you,” Phil said, his cheeks getting pink. “I really needed someone like you in my life right now.”

“Th-thanks?” Dan said, hesitant to take a compliment. He’s the one that should be thanking Phil.

Phil was silent for a moment while it looked like he fished around in Dan’s eyes. Then his eyebrows went up and there was a small smirk resting on his face.

“Okay. Clearly, we are going to have to talk about the elephant in the room. I don’t want you throwing those googly eyes at me every second. Please, ask me what you want about my books now so that we can put this weird little fangirling thing we’ve got going on behind us,” Phil said, his words dripping with fondness, yet Dan was totally caught off guard. He wasn’t staring at Phil like that because he liked his books - even though that certainly played a part in it - he was staring at Phil because he couldn’t believe that a human could be this perfect. Let alone a human that was sitting with him on the couch right now. “I’m sure you have questions. With as many plot holes as there are in my books, you’ve got to have at least something that bothers you.”

Dan hadn’t thought about it much before, but it was dawning on him that Phil wasn’t really a fan of his own writing. He wasn’t as confident as the Striker in his books and he didn’t think very highly of his own talent. To Dan, this was ridiculous. Phil Lester was the best author he knew. He was the only author Dan would read and his words were like magic as they peeled off the page and into his brain. It saddened him that Phil didn’t even consider his own writing beautiful enough to promote.

Then the conversation he had earlier with Phil hit him like a brick to the face and suddenly it didn’t matter how close the two were sitting or how perfect Phil Lester was, a sentence smacked him in the front of his brain.

“I have another job. But it doesn’t really pay well. And I have some…personal affairs that require a bigger paycheck…But not to worry! I’m kind of almost done with my other job. It’s not really working out.”

Dan’s eyes widened and he could tell that Phil was about to ask what was wrong.

“You aren’t writing another book?” Dan blurted out, his heart stopping for a moment while he waited for an answer.

Phil’s bubbly smile melted from his face and he looked at Dan with confusion, as if he couldn’t quite figure out how Dan had guessed that. But his shaky hand reached for his collar, adjusting it with the lightest touch.

“I don’t think I can…” Phil answered slowly, not even realizing the heart-shattering news he was delivering to the boy sitting in front of him. “It’s just…I don’t think there’s another book…in me.”

Dan’s mouth had fallen open and he was just watching Phil’s blue eyes fade to gray. His face void of all color.

“So you haven’t written a book for this November?” Dan asked, not even stopping to think that maybe it was insensitive to ask such a question.

Phil sighed and his face read that it was complicated.

“Dan…I…” He avoided all eye contact. “No.” His voice trembled. “No, I haven’t.”

Dan was beyond shocked. He wasn’t mad, because how could he be? He didn’t know what Phil’s life was like and he wasn’t trying to pressure the boy, but he was really looking forward to that next novel and now that he knew it wasn’t even in the works, a part of him started to wilt.

“I’m sorry…I just don’t think I can do it,” Phil whimpered, his hands now wringing together and his eyes starting to glisten. He looked like he had just realized something while he was admitting this fact to Dan. He looked so small all of a sudden. “You’re not like…mad or anything…?” He looked down at his hands. “…cause I didn’t know that people…” He corrected himself. “…that you liked my books. And I just haven’t really been feeling up to…” Phil spoke the last word so quietly as if he didn’t want to say it out loud in the first place. “…writing.”

Dan stared at Phil and there was clearly a backstory that he was missing. He kept having to remind himself that he’d only met Phil today an that everything he knew about the guy he was looking at, was through a character that Phil had created. Although it was somewhat based on truth, Dan couldn’t just ask a near stranger why he couldn’t write another novel. It just wasn’t polite. That, and Phil looked like he was about to break. Any second.

So Dan took something out of Phil’s book, although not literally, he went out on a whim and scooted even closer to the wilting boy and reached to caress the side of his face.

“Phil…” Dan started. “I don’t care about the book. I mean…I do…but I understand. I like you. I like you a lot. And I know it’s only been like 12 hours and I know it might be crazy, but something tells me that this has to be fate…” He swallowed a comment about how cheesy he knew he sounded and kept going. “I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. And not just because I like your books, but because I-” He knew sharing this next part was going to be hard, but he didn’t realize that it was going to be the first time he’d said it out loud. “I’ve never really had a best friend before and something about you just makes me feel like you’ve known me forever.”

Phil was staring at him, his eyes bouncing between Dan’s own twinkling orbs and his moving lips.

“Phil, please believe me. I was attracted to you before I knew you were the amazing Phil that I knew you were,” Dan blushed. “And if it’s any consolation…I thought you were amazing before I found out.”

Phil was no longer on the verge of tears, but his eyes were full of mirth and something that Dan had never seen on a person up close before. Something specific that he had only ever read - in Phil’s books that is. Love.

Dan knew he was bordering crazy and certainly, his wildest of dreams never unfolded this way, but he took a moment to breathe in his last sane breath and then leaned forward to kiss the boy who looked to be begging for it.

Kissing turned out to be the gateway to something more. Dan had never trod this territory before but Phil was gentle and somehow a little awkward, and about 45 minutes and a hefty amount of heavy breathing later, they were lying beside each other in Phil’s bed with little to no room between them.

Even though it was only a short walk to The Brew Bean, it felt like eons. Dan was reeling about the night before, going over it a million times and then all over again. He had spent nearly the whole night beside Phil in his bed, wearing nothing but a grin and a pair of borrowed briefs. They had talked about everything under the sun. Dan finally got to ask a few questions about Phil’s books and where he got his inspiration, and Phil asked him about Uni and why he left. They were tender subjects but between kissing and kind words, the topics didn’t seem so scary for either of them.

In the morning when Dan’s alarm went off, he woke in a startle when he realized he had fallen asleep on the chest of another man. When he looked up and saw that no, it wasn’t a dream, Phil Lester was actually asleep below him, he nearly passed out again out of amazement. Dan could still feel the way the older boy stirred beneath him and wrapped his warm arms around him as he begged the younger not to leave. But Dan was opening today and he had to get the shop before 8:00 to open up. So Phil got up and stretched his naked body in the patch of sunlight that made him look angelic and then wandered off to make them both a pot of coffee. It’s not like Dan couldn’t have waited until he got to work, but Phil seemed to need it more than he did.

Dan arrived at the shop at 7:20 which was later than he’d ever been. He usually showed up early to make sure he had time to sit and have a cup before he opened the store for others, but today he would miss that. Thank goodness Louise wasn’t here to tease him about it. At least not yet.

Of course, the girl didn’t miss anything. The moment she walked it, Dan could tell she knew something he didn’t. Maybe Dan was giving off the post-coitus vibes or maybe his face said it all, but when they had a slow second, she sauntered over to Dan and gave him an all-knowing look.

“So…” Her teeth were scraping her bottom lip as if she was refraining from saying something but Dan was clearly in trouble. “How was your night?”

A docile question for the all-knowing Louise to ask.

Dan turned to her and grinned, not even trying to mask his excitement with a sarcastic comment. There was nothing about this that screamed Dan Howell. Nothing cautious or bitter. His relationship with Phil was completely out of character. In fact, it reminded him of a different character altogether and it only made since when he realized it was Striker.

“How do you think?” Dan asked, turning away to hide the blush that was flooding his face.

“I think you need to spill because I know that blush isn’t coming from nowhere,” Louise pestered, her lips turned up in a smirk. “Phil isn’t that charming. Why are you so smitten?”

Dan wanted to argue because yes, Phil is that charming, but he decided he’d rather cut to the chase and tell Louise why Phil was especially perfect for him.

“Remember those books? The ones I read all the time?” Dan asked Louise who looked positively bothered by the fact that they were coming up now, of all times, but she nodded and listened. “Well, Phil’s the one who wrote them.”

Louise looked confused for a moment as if she were doing math in her head and trying to figure out how that was statistically possible. Dan knew that it wasn’t but it happened anyway and here he’s gone and slept with the guy. But Louise could probably read that right away.

“Oh God,” she muttered. She looked actually quite horrified.

“What?” Dan asked, worried there was something Louise hadn’t told him about Phil.

“I’m going to have to hire someone else, aren’t I?”

Dan blinked at her.

“What?”

“Dan…if he really is the love of your life, as he obviously is, then I’m gonna need another person to come in for the days you both want off,” Louise explained, thinking purely as a boss and less as a mother right now. Dan opened his mouth as if he were going to argue but because it was Phil, he didn’t want to. He knew deep down that she was right. If he was later than usual this morning and this continued on like he’d hoped, he would need a few days off in the future. For both of their sakes.

“What happened to ’you need to take more days off?‘” Dan asked, teasing the woman who stood before him. She rolled his eyes.

“Well I hired someone to take your place but now you’ve gone and seduced him.” She huffed, her fists on her hips. “I meant you needed more days off with people who didn’t work here!”

Dan found that hard to argue with. Technically, she was right, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Ugh, it’s fine. I’ll find someone.” She hit a few buttons on the register, going back to work. “So I’m hoping you were safe when you-”

“Louise!”

“What? I’m just making sure…” She shot him a loving glance and then walked off. He didn’t know exactly how she could tell that he had that kind of night, but if it was written all over his face, he assumed she of all people could read it. And because Phil wrote it in the first place, it must have been good.

“You’re saying you want an entire weekend and a Monday off?” Louise asked, her mouth open and her eyebrows up higher than Dan had ever seen them. “The both of you?”

It had been two months since Dan had met Phil and things were going more fantastical since the beginning. After their first night together, Dan went home after his long shift and took a shower, starting to worry that maybe he was moving too fast. But when he got a text from Phil telling him that he missed his presence and that he wished he had someone to play Mario Kart with, he knew he hadn’t made a mistake. Phil was just as into Dan as he was into Phil and it happened rapidly fast. Soon, Dan barely saw his flat and by the second week, he knew that after a long shift with or without Phil, he would end up over at Phil’s anyway.

Now, at two months, they knew each other better than they knew themselves - save for a few things. Things that Dan never tried to pressure for and thank goodness Phil didn’t push for his own skeletons in his closet. Their relationship was synonymous to an adventure novel - or so Dan thought. Phil swept him off his feet and kissed him passionately whenever he got the chance. He romanced Dan’s socks off and had a way with words that only his favorite writer could possess. Their sex was passionate and loving and every time Dan looked into Phil’s glistening eyes, he knew that Phil Lester was a wonder of a man. He single-handedly helped Dan take the simplicity of his plain life and spice it up into a novel of its own.

And that’s why Dan thought he’d return the favor.

For weeks, Dan has been talking about taking Phil away, somewhere he could think and possibly get back into the hobby that made Dan fall for Phil all those years ago. Even though Dan was falling faster everyday, dare he say in love, he still longed for Phil’s writing and now that it was almost Christmas time, he wanted to give Phil the gift of a lifetime.

“It’s just three days Lou. Come on. Didn’t you just hire that new guy, PJ?” Dan nudged her side. “And plus, when have I ever asked?”

“That’s why I’m appalled,” She shook her head, but a smile was fighting its way through her pursed lips. “I hate to say I told you so but…” She looked him right in the eye. “I told you so.”

“Yeah, yeah, so can we have off?” Dan asked again, pulling Phil closer to his side, having nearly forgotten he was standing right there in the first place. Louise looked at Phil who was no doubt grinning beside him, his sunshine of a smile sure to work wonders. With a sigh and the roll of her eyes, she nodded.

“Consider it an early Christmas gift,” she grumbled, looking back down at the task she had been doing before Dan and Phil had come up and asked her. “Where are you going anyway?”

“That, I can’t tell you,” Dan teased, glancing at Phil who crossed his arms and pouted because Dan had been very clear, he was not to know where they were going until they got there. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get back.”

She looked at the two of them and shook her head once more. “You guys make me sick.”

Dan just grinned and went back to work with Phil at his side.

“I’m sorry I’m running late. I’m just figuring a few things out. I’ll be there in an hour. Sorry Sorry!” Phil said over the phone to Dan who was literally sitting on his suitcase by his front door. Excited was an understatement. He hadn’t been on a real vacation in so long. Even though it was a week before Christmas, he was excited to spend the holiday with his boyfriend.

“That’s okay. I’m keeping myself busy anyway,” Dan lied.

“No, you aren’t. Stop waiting at the door like a lost puppy. Go read a book or something,” Phil said, probably regretting it because every time he said that, he knew Dan would listen, picking up one of the few novels he had written in the past and re-reading it. “One that isn’t mine.”

Dan whined but he agreed and went to find something a little less interesting. No book could be as interesting as Phil’s.

When Phil finally arrived, he was still a half hour later than he had mentioned being on the phone. When Dan went down to meet him on the sidewalk he was prepared to playfully scold the boy but instead he was greeted with a very grim face on his beloved who seemed to be a bit out of it.

“Hey…what’s wrong?” Dan said, first thing, getting it out of the way before they even started to walk to the train station.

“Nothing…it’s just been a rough day. I’m ready for this vacation though,” he smiled, pulling Dan into his side. Dan let the warmth of his own body comfort his boyfriend who was drooping a little more than usual today.

Here was the thing about Phil Lester. Everything about him was adventurous and spontaneous, except there was this one thing. This one thing that he never told Dan about. Dan never asked but when Phil described the thing that made him late all the time or that kept him occupied for more than one day at a time, he never gave Dan the full story. He just said it was important and that he would explain later. Phil was the kind of person that would tell Dan anything but he wouldn’t tell him this. Dan knew that must mean it was a big deal. But what could be so terrible that Phil would want to hide it from Dan? Phil knew he could trust Dan with anything. It’s not like Dan had ever judged him before. Did he have another job? Some sort of illness he needed to take care of? Another boyfriend?

Dan always made sure to stop his train of thought before it got to that point because he knew that Phil was faithful to him. There was nothing wrong with secrets. Especially if they’re painful to talk about. So Dan respected Phil’s space and didn’t ask whenever Phil showed up with the sunken-in eyes that suggested he hadn’t slept or the shaking hands that suggested he had been fidgeting a ton. He just pulled Phil close and told him it was okay, understanding that when Phil was ready, he would share that part of his life.

They walked down the pavement in silence as Phil pulled himself together and Dan swung their laced hands to cheer up his partner.

He also told Phil to wait on the platform while he went and bought their tickets, just so Phil wouldn’t know where they were headed. Phil was usually the one that decided where to go, but this weekend, Dan was calling the shots. He wanted to show Phil something he’d never shown anyone. Something almost as personal as Phil’s writing was. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince Phil to start writing again.

They shuffled on the train, Dan making sure Phil couldn’t see any signs revealing their destination, and then they were both leaning on each other while the train moved away from the city of London.

“Dan…is this Manchester?” Phil said as he looked out the window. They were almost to the city and he started realizing that his surprise was going to reveal itself pretty soon. Dan shifted in his seat and nodded when Phil’s blue eyes were on him. “Like…your hometown?”

“Yeah…” Dan said, a smirk on his lips. “What other Manchester is there?”

Phil chuckled and looked out the window again.

“I just mean…like…why Manchester?” Phil asked.

“Because you’ve shown me so much of your past through your writing. I want to show you mine.”

Phil turned and looked at him with his favorite glance. The one where his eyes lit up and it made Dan’s heart flutter.

But then his face changed to one of worry and Dan panicked. Had he made the wrong choice? Did he say something too forward?

“Where are we staying?”

“Um…just my house. I don’t live too far from here I-”

“Dan!” Phil’s mouth dropped open. “You didn’t tell me I was going to meet your parents. Oh God…” Phil looked like he was panicking and as flattering as it was that Phil was nervous about the possibility of making the wrong impression, Dan’s laugh flicked him out of his little attack.

“They aren’t there. They go on holiday every year the week before Christmas to see my Grandma. My brother is on holiday as well. Even the dog is away. It’s just us.” He reached out and grabbed Phil’s hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss it. Phil took a sigh of relief and he allowed himself to blush. “Come on, Phil. We’ve been dating two months. It’s a little weird for me to bring you home just yet. I’m sure you’ve thought the same about your own parents.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right,” Phil said, the dark and gloomy cloud falling over him once again. Dan hoped it wasn’t because he had insulted Phil or something. It’s not that he wasn’t proud of their relationship, he just wasn’t sure how his parents would feel about him bringing someone home after not seeing them for so long. He really had to get over that. Some people were far less fortunate and couldn’t see their parents all the time. He told himself then that he would put more effort in the relationship. Maybe he’d call them on Christmas and wish them happy holidays.

The train stopped and Dan ushered him and his boyfriend up. They were to get on one more bus and then they will have arrived at Dan’s childhood home. No person, not even some of Dan’s ‘friends’ had been to his childhood home. It was something he was rather protective about. It was where he spent a lot of time holed up indoors reading or playing Final Fantasy until he had enough and fell asleep. His brother was far too young to be a proper companion and when he really thought about it, he kept mostly to himself for a majority of his life there. Hence why the place had so much history for him. This house was his sacred place and his room was his best friend - before he started reading Phil’s books that is.

“Thanks for taking me here, Dan,” Phil said as they were approaching Dan’s front door. “I know how much of a big deal this is for you.”

“That’s okay. It’s really nothing,” Dan lied, constantly flabbergasted that Phil somehow knew exactly what he was thinking before he even had to say a word. He unlocked the door to the house and they stepped inside.

As expected, it was empty and Dan started up the stairs immediately, heading for his bedroom where he would put their stuff. Phil followed of course and instead of Dan’s innocent plan of exploring the house and showing Phil the things of the past, Phil kicked the door closed and pushed Dan into his twin bed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” Phil said from above him, sharing a kiss with Dan’s eager lips.

“Oh yeah? And what else did you want to do?”

Phil smirked and their clothes were on the floor in an instant.

Their Saturday was relaxing. After their little escapade in the bedroom, Dan finally got to show Phil around. Although a lot of his things were no longer there, he explained every little detail to Phil. He even showed Phil the patch of carpet that he had his first existential crisis on. Phil laughed and they both laid down to try it. It didn’t end in crisis, however, it did end in a tickle fight.

Phil knew Dan’s other motive for bringing him here. He knew that Dan wanted Phil to get away from that big scary thing that he knew nothing about and focus on his own brain. Dan had suggested to him millions of times that perhaps the reason he couldn’t focus on his writing was that he was dealing with all the shit that came with this huge secret. So at the end of the night, when they were happily sitting inside beside a fireplace that held so many Christmas memories for Dan, Phil pulled out a spiral notebook and started jotting a few things down. Not a lot, but enough that Dan could tell Phil was making headway. It warmed Dan’s heart. So he curled up beside Phil with his little mug of hot chocolate and watched the fire in the company of his favorite person in his childhood home.

Sunday was a whirlwind. It started off nice when Dan made Phil a rock star breakfast. He found eggs and bacon and toast, brewing coffee and cutting up some oranges for his dear Phil who was still in bed and planned on being there for the rest of the day. He piled everything on a tray and they had a three-hour breakfast in bed that they always talked about. Phil looked so happy, munching on his toast and forking through his eggs. Dan couldn’t believe he was sharing this moment in the tiniest of beds with the person with the biggest heart. He was so incredulously happy.

That is until Phil’s phone rang. Dan reached over and grabbed it from the side table, handing it to his boyfriend who had a mouth full of bacon, and he squinted at the caller ID. Without his glasses or his contacts, his eyes were useless.

He picked up the unknown number and his face went pale.

“Yeah, yeah, I understand…I uh…yeah, I can…” Phil’s hand had gripped his fork in a painful manner before it dropped to the tray. “Sure thing. I’ll be there in four hours.” Dan’s eyes went wide and he looked at Phil with a piece of toast hanging from his lip. Phil was already scooting past Dan and putting pants on. “Thank you so much….yeah I’ll be there…okay bye.”

There was a moment of silence as Phil held his phone in his hand and he looked at Dan. Dan knew this had to do with that huge secret that Phil never mentioned and this wouldn’t have been a big deal if this wasn’t Dan’s first holiday since he’d dropped from Uni.

Phil looked like he didn’t want to explain but that wasn’t going to cut it this time. He couldn’t just promise whoever was on the phone that he was going to take a train back immediately without telling his boyfriend what was going on.

“Phil…” Dan took a stab at being calm and collected, even though he was beyond irritated. His bubble of bliss had just popped and now they were at a standstill.

Phil’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes getting slightly watery, but he hung his head and nodded. “I really have to go.”

Dan blinked. No other explanation. Not even an apology.

“I’ll come with you.” Dan hopped out of bed and started looking for his own pants that had somehow ended up being thrown last night. He had to admit, his tone was pretty bitter, but it was important that Phil knew he was kind of salty. Especially because he had been looking forward to this getaway for weeks. It was Dan’s Christmas gift to Phil after all. He wanted Phil to enjoy it.

“No, Dan, it’s best you didn’t.” Phil was now shoving things in his suitcase and his hands were shaking.

“We said we’d spend the weekend together! I’m coming with you,” Dan insisted, packing his suitcase as well. Phil zipped his up and took a second to stare at Dan who was furiously scrunching clothes and pushing them into his black suitcase.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Dan stopped packing and he stared at the shirt that was crumpled in his hand now.

“I can just meet you back in London,” Phil tried. “I’ll explain later.”

What the hell was so important that it turned Phil into this vague mess that just left during their personal holiday?

“No, you won’t.”

“Excuse me?” Phil turned around and his grip on his suitcase handle tightened.

“You won’t tell me later. You never do,” Dan said, his voice laced with some form of hurt that Phil certainly detected. “When will you tell me what’s going on?”

Phil looked overwhelmed and maybe Dan shouldn’t have pushed him. On a regular day, this didn’t bother him. On a regular day, he was sympathetic. But today, he had taken off work for this holiday and Phil should have taken off from whatever it was he did in his spare time. This was time he should have been spending with Dan.

So when Phil gave Dan one last glance of sorrow and turned around to leave, Dan waited until he heard the front door shut before he threw himself into the pillow and cried. He knew he was dramatic but this wasn’t fair. He loved Phil and he knew Phil loved him back, just not enough to keep him from leaving.

He ended up going back to London early. He couldn’t bear the idea of sitting in an empty house alone. Not again. It was just too quiet. So with his tail between his legs, he called Louise and told her that he was available to work on Monday. She didn’t ask any questions but he was sure they were coming when she told him he could come in and work his usual Monday shift. He was glad that she at least offered him a means of distraction.

He arrived at The Brew Bean with a frown and Louise shook her head, leaving the new boy - PJ - at the counter so she could chat with Dan in the back. She wasn’t interested when Dan was happy, but suddenly she wanted to know everything.

“…and he just left. He didn’t even offer an explanation,” Dan explained the whole story, his head in his hands as he sat on a cardboard box in the back. “I don’t know what to do. I love him but if this thing is more important than me, I don’t know if I can continue dating someone who leaves me so quickly for something else. Let alone someone who won’t share everything.”

Louise was strangely silent. She looked sympathetic but didn’t offer any advice until he was done moping. His eyes were dark and red-rimmed. He was on the verge of tears.

“I offered to go with him this time and he flat out told me he didn’t want me around,” Dan cried, his voice quivering. He noticed Louise’s silence and he looked up through his shaggy haircut. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

She fiddled with her yellow dress.

“I may or may not know where Phil’s always off to…” Louise spoke softly and gently, much like you would to a child. “But I don’t think I can tell you.”

“Louise!” Dan looked up at her with desperate eyes. “You have to tell me! Come on! He’s known you for two months and I’ve known you for years! Please!”

Begging was unbecoming but it didn’t matter. Not right now.

She looked unsure of herself like she was about to spill something that was bigger than both of them.

“Please, Louise…please.”

After another short moment of silence, she sighed and nodded, looking up to meet the desperate eyes that blinked back at her.

“Phil’s mother is dying.”

Dan’s brain short circuited.

“She’s what?”

Louise knew that Dan had heard her and she didn’t repeat what she had just said. She could tell that it was hitting him.

“During the interview I asked him if there was anything that might get in the way of a job like this and he mentioned that his mother was in pretty bad shape, cancer I think, and he said that he has been taking care of her for a good while now,” Louise explained softly. “I think that’s why he needed the job in the first place. To pay for the medicines and hospital visits.”

“Wait…how sick is she?”

“I don’t know. I never asked. I haven’t talked to him about it since that day. I think he’d prefer nobody to find out.”

“But…but why didn’t he just tell me that?”

Louise shook her head. “I don’t know but listen, you should cut him some slack. I’m sure it’s really hard.”

Dan nodded and watched as his boss got up and pat his shoulder before walking off. He stayed where he was and reflected on everything that had happened in the past few months. All the times that Phil was late, all the times that he had to quickly run out from a date, all the times he had mentioned that things had changed a lot in recent years. He never explained the roommate that lived upstairs, he never explained the phone calls he always had to take in the morning, and he never ever talked about his parents. This must be why he was so afraid to meet Dan’s.

Part of him felt horrible. Like he had made the biggest mistake in his life. He had been rude to Phil when all he was doing was caring for his mother. He should have trusted Phil. But the other side of Dan felt hurt. Why wouldn’t Phil want to mention something so huge to his boyfriend who proved that he cared immensely? He would never judge Phil for something like this, even if it meant that Phil had a more important place to be some of the time. He wished that Phil had told him so he could have been more understanding than he was.

But there was nothing he could do about it now. He was the asshole who yelled at a man who’s mother was dying.

Something he didn’t expect was to see Phil that day. He was working the counter, handing some old man his change when the bells jingled and in came a person that looked a lot like Phil, but was clearly just a mess of tears and worry. As soon as Phil caught Dan’s glance, he looked terrified. As if he expected Dan to be in Manchester still, by himself. Dan wanted Phil to know that he wasn’t mad at him and that it was an honest mistake, but he wasn’t supposed to know about what was happening with Phil, so he couldn’t explain. He just smiled and watched as the boy hesitantly walked up to the counter.

“Hey,” he started, his eyes wavering with contact.

“Hey,” Dan answered, his hands fumbling with the edge of the counter.

“I’m sorry…” Phil said, his voice broken and battered. He had done a lot of crying, clearly, and with the urgency in which he left Manchester, something terrible must have happened. Dan wanted to tell Phil that it was all okay and that he was totally right for leaving, but instead he just untied his apron, walked around the counter and to where Phil was standing, engulfing him in the tightest hug that he could manage. Phil’s conscious brain might not have understood why, but his body did. It folded when Dan’s chest hit Phil’s and the older boy was now racking with sobs. Last week, this would have been startling behavior, but this was completely okay and Dan knew he needed the support. Even if Phil wouldn’t admit it to him.

“Hey…shhh…it’s okay, Phil,” Dan hushed, whispering in the older boy’s ear while he combed his fingers through his hair. “How about I take you to my place and we cuddle for a while?”

Dan had never invited Phil back to his place. He had no reason to. Phil’s place was much closer and the bed was comfier. But Dan had the inclination that Phil might not want to go back to his own place and when the suggestion was made, Phil stilled before nodding slowly.

“Let me just let Louise know, okay?” Dan said, gently breaking them apart and finally taking in the full vision of Phil standing before him. He was wearing the same outfit he had worn the day before, his shirt wrinkled and his hands hanging lower than usual. Dan was careful not to jostle him as he stepped backward. He flashed him one more glance that told him to stay put, and then turned rather quickly to find his boss.

“We’re almost there,” Dan mentioned as he stroked Phil’s shoulder on the way to his flat. The bus was a lot quieter in the late afternoon than it was around lunch time and Dan was secretly thankful they missed the rush. Phil did not seem together enough to handle the chaos that was London during break hours. In fact, he was getting startled by every little thing. He clearly hadn’t slept and his nerves were acting up.

Phil nodded in response to Dan’s mention, but his head barely moved. Dan thanked the Universe that he even noticed.

They got off the bus and Dan led his boyfriend up to his flat, not even thinking about the state it was in. He hadn’t cleaned in ages. Granted, he never really stayed long enough to make much of a mess. He was sure that aside from the clothes on his bedroom floor and maybe a few books out on the coffee table, his place was in perfect order. The layer of dust over everything wasn’t visible and Phil probably wouldn’t notice. At least not today.

“Here, I’m going to get you some water and you can go lay down…” Dan said as he locked his front door. Phil was silently taking in the place he had just entered but he turned to Dan with thankful eyes. “My bedroom is the door at the end of the hall…” He pointed and spun his broken love around. “I think I made the bed…”

Phil shuffled back to Dan’s bedroom while Dan fixed him a glass of water. He probably hadn’t had anything proper to eat in the past 24 hours so he snagged a granola bar as well before heading back to see Phil.

If not under these circumstances, he probably would have taken a picture of what Phil looked like right then. Even at his worst, Phil was still beautiful. He was curled in on himself with his head on Dan’s pillow. His eyes were shut and his hands were delicately resting beside his face. Dan wasn’t sure what the protocol was for a situation like this, but he placed the glass of water and the granola bar on the side table and he walked over to the other side of the resting boy. He climbed into the bed and like a big spoon, encased Phil into his arms. Phil was awake enough to shuffle himself into Dan’s embrace and Dan took that as a good sign. To Phil’s knowledge, Dan knew nothing about where he had gone.

Even in the state he was in, Phil could still read Dan’s mind. He had been quiet for so long that his voice pierced the air like broken glass on a concrete floor.

“My mum has Metastatic Pancreatic Cancer…”

Dan’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t a medical professional but he didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the words metastatic and cancer were bad news. His arms tightened a little around Phil but he said nothing, letting the other boy continue.

“…at the end of July the doctors said it reached stage four and that means she only had…” Phil swallowed. “…only had six months left and-” He nearly swallowed his own words. “They called yesterday and said she might not make it through Chri-”

Phil couldn’t finish. His breaths were shallow. His heart was beating so fast that Dan was sure it might explode there in his arms. Dan was shocked. He knew cancer was bad and that it was painful for everyone involved, but this seemed impossible. Phil was a hero. No wonder he hadn’t written anything in so long. No wonder he didn’t want to talk about it.

They laid there in silence for what felt like hours. It could have just been minutes but Phil’s body never stopped trembling. Dan was letting his hand run through Phil’s black hair and his chest was pressed as close to Phil’s ribcage as physically possible. He hoped that his heart could beat strong enough for the both of them.

They fell asleep like that, Dan thought, because a few hours later he was being awoken again by a meek voice that was no louder than a whisper.

“Dan?” Phil was right next to his ear and Dan blinked his eyes open.

“Hm?” He instinctively hugged his boyfriend tighter and smiled into his hair.

“I love you.”

Dan was definitely not expecting that string of words right now but he didn’t care. He had been dying to hear them. Ever since they’d met. Call him crazy, but Phil was the one.

“I love you too, Phil,” he responded quickly, knowing how scary those words could be sometimes. “Are you okay?”

Phil nodded and he cuddled himself into Dan’s embrace just a little bit more. Dan wouldn’t let go until Phil was ready to be let go. And if that was never, well, then the two would rot here on this bed until his landlord dragged them out himself.

Dan called out of work for the both of them that next day because he wanted to be with Phil and Phil clearly couldn’t be anywhere else. He had gone on to explain how painful it was to be at home when his mother was in the hospital. Apparently she was just admitted, right before they had left for their vacation. That was why it had taken so long for Phil to meet Dan that day. Phil had to fill out more paperwork than he thought. Poor Phil was probably thinking about it the entire time they were away.

Phil also explained that his mother had progressed into her illness very rapidly. She was apparently just fine only two years ago. This made Dan’s heart lurch, especially because he didn’t talk much to his family. If anything made him feel guilty, it was hearing that something like this could happen, and quickly too.

He sat with Phil in bed all day, listening to him talk out the things that were probably trapped in his own head for months and months. Phil was spilling out the details of the treatments and the words doctors had thrown his way. He spent some time telling Dan about his mother and how kind and loving she was. He told Dan about all the great things she had done and all his childhood memories. Dan didn’t even know the woman, but he was sad to lose her. Apparently his dad had died a long time ago and Phil didn’t remember much about him. He explained that he was glad because he really couldn’t handle two premature parent deaths.

Once Phil was all talked-out, Dan was feeling rather sleepy. This was partially because he had stayed up much longer than Phil the night before, making sure that he was okay. Dan was still curled up next to Phil when his eyes started to flutter. He just barely got a glimpse of Phil pulling out a little notebook from his jacket pocket and clicking his pen before he drifted off into a comfortable sleep.

“Dan!” Phil woke his boyfriend with a bigger smile than Dan had seen on Phil all week. This alarmed him as he jolted awake and into awareness, looking at the boy before him with big, red, crusty eyes. “Dan I did it!”

Phil looked like he hadn’t slept a wink but he didn’t looked pained. He actually glowed. He looked like he was actually proud of something. Like he had done something that Dan would be proud of.

“Did what?” Dan rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking into Phil’s lap where he found a little notebook that held at least twenty pages of scribbles. The corner of Dan’s mouth went up when he realized what Phil was about to tell him.

“I have an idea for my next book! I wrote out an outline…” Phil gestured to the many pages of scribbles that Dan didn’t want to read because he genuinely didn’t want spoilers, but he did look up at Phil’s sparkling eyes that had regained a little light, and he let the crinkles next to his show.

“I’m so proud of you!” Dan praised, meaning every word. This must have taken a lot of creative energy but as Phil had explained, writing was his outlet and maybe because he let out some of the stuff that was floating around his head for so long, he was able to make room for the creative flow. “I get to be the first to read it when it’s complete, right?”

Phil nodded, understanding that he was dating his biggest fan and of course he wouldn’t be allowed to release it without his boyfriend’s blessing.

“I really like this one actually…I think…” Phil blushed. “I think you will too.”

Dan gave him a glare that meant 'of course I’ll like it, you wrote it,’ and then grabbed the proud boy in his arms, attacking him with kisses.

“Did you stay up all night to write this?” Dan asked after kissing Phil at least 23 times, a lick of concern leaking out of his tone.

“Yeah, and you’re really cute when you’re asleep, did you know that?”

“Shut up…” Dan tried not to smile but it came through. Phil was acting like Phil again and he couldn’t help but feel grateful. He knew that Phil struggled to keep his bubbly personality, even through everything that was going on, but this seemed genuine. He seemed like he was being himself – for the time being at least. “Want some breakfast?”

“Sure. What are we having?” Phil asked.

“Well, unless you want to eat moldy toast and expired jam, I think we have to go out,” Dan stretched his arms above his head and Phil took advantage of the slight sight of tummy, tickling it and blowing a very sloppy raspberry. Dan giggled and in retaliation, he ended up blowing a raspberry on Phil’s lips, only leading to a very heated make-out session that ended in morning sex.

Pancakes always did the trick, or at least for Phil. Phil had had bad days before and Dan knew the remedy was always pancakes and coffee. Although it wasn’t really the healthiest meal to eat after barely eating anything, it was something and it would keep Phil’s tummy the way it was – nice and plump – for Dan.

“So tell me about your new book.” Dan put his chin in his hands and leaned over the table like some lovesick puppy. “Does Striker go on another adventure and take down an evil horse-lord.”

Phil laughed and shook his head. He had a chunk of pancake in his mouth so he held a finger up and told Dan to wait.

“No, no. Not another horse-lord. Horses freak me out, remember?”

“Yeah. I do. That’s why it was evil,” Dan answered, smirking. “Duh.”

“You really are Phil Trash #1.”

Dan rolled his eyes. “Ugh, Phil, we’ve been over this. I probably know your books better than you do. Come on, spill. What’s Striker doing next?”

“Well if you know my book better than I do, then you should know,” Phil teased, pointing his fork at Dan. “And you don’t really want to ruin the surprise, do you?”

Dan sighed. Of course he didn’t. But getting Phil to talk about his passions was one of Dan’s favorite things and since he’d met the older boy, the passion had not been writing. This was the first they had talked about it in weeks. Dan wanted to know everything he could if Phil was willing to chat about it.

“Okay, fine, just tell me this. Is Samuel in this one?” This was a very cheeky question and Dan asked it with a knowing smile. At this point, Dan knew that he was Phil’s muse for Samuel. Even though the books were written before Phil met Dan, it was like Samuel was perfectly molded to be Dan. Not to mention, at the end of the last book, Samuel was officially invited to join Striker on his newest quest. So Dan and Phil both knew Samuel would have to be a giant part of Phil’s next book. And if Striker was Phil, then Samuel was Dan and if Dan was being honest, he was excited to read how Phil wrote Sam in the next novel.

“You’ll just have to wait and see…” Phil alluded, his smile revealing it all.

“I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”

But they both knew that’s not what they meant.

They were walking back from their little breakfast place when Phil’s phone rang in his pocket. As soon as Dan heard the ring, he tensed up. The last time he got this call, Phil left him without any explanation. He hoped it wasn’t the same kind of call but at the same time, he hoped that if it was, Phil would at least fill him in.

They stopped in the middle of the pavement and Phil dug the device from his pocket, his hand visibly shaking as he answered it.

“Hello?” He stared at anywhere but Dan as he listened to the person on the other end. His face gave nothing away as he nodded and released a few quiet 'mmhmm’s, Dan nearly dying of curiosity. But then Phil hung up and he finally looked at Dan with tears in his eyes.

So it was that kind of call.

“Phil…if you need to go, you ca-”

“Come with me,” Phil said, his voice breaking.

“What?”

“Come with me,” Phil said again, stepping closer and grabbing Dan’s hands. “Please. I…I don’t want to do th-” He stopped, looked at his feet and then back into Dan’s eyes. “I can’t do this alone.”

Dan nodded and suddenly they were briskly walking down the London street. Thank God they were within blocks of the hospital and Phil wasn’t subject to an entire bus ride of anticipation. It was still rather early in the day for Dan to be walking this fast, but for Phil he would do anything.

They arrived at the hospital in under ten minutes, the nurse at the desk giving Phil a nod of understanding when he walked right past. This made Dan sad because that must have meant that Phil had been in here an awful lot for the nurse to recognize the man.

Phil walked the white hospital halls, Dan trailing behind, as Phil navigated the place like it was his home. Another thing that made Dan’s heart clench. He could see the way the staff looked in Phil’s direction, a glance of sympathy here and there, every now and then a nurse would mutter a “hello” or a “good to see you.” This made Dan very uncomfortable. He wanted to be there for Phil but he wasn’t sure he was built for a place as grim as this.

Phil finally stopped at a door that was closed, taking a deep breath and swiveling on his feet toward Dan.

“You uh…don’t have to come in…if you don’t want,” he offered, but his eyes told him he did, so Dan shook his head and smiled.

“If you’re going in, I’m going in.” Dan was already here. He might as well commit.

Phil responded with a weak smile and he nodded, letting go of Dan’s loose grip and reaching for the handle.

There was no experience, movie or book, that could compare to what he saw in the room they entered. Phil walked in slowly and carefully and Dan did his best to mimic his partner’s steps. When he finally got a glimpse of the hospital bed and the woman in it, he almost cried himself. The woman was frail and thin, something you would expect from an older lady, but this was Phil’s mum. She couldn’t have been older than 60 and yet she looked like she had lived ten lifetimes. Her closed eyes had sunken in and turned purple, the bone of her nose nearly poking through the weathered skin, and her lips barely had any color at all. Dan was sure that if this woman had any resemblance to Phil, it was long gone now. Her fingers laid still on her chest and her breathing released a slow hiss when it left her nose. Tons of little wires went from one device to another, some spitting liquid in and from the body on the bed. It looked like she didn’t even notice, her somewhat peaceful sleep was deep and most likely medically induced.

Dan shot Phil a glance that meant more than comfort. He tried to tell Phil that he was so sorry. So sorry that this was happening. So sorry that Phil had to go through this tragic process.

“M-Mum?” Phil’s voice shook when he spoke, as if he would break her fragile ears with his tender tone. He sat himself in the chair that was clearly there for him and him only, grabbing his mother’s hand with the softest of touches. “Mum can you hear me?”

Dan wasn’t about to say anything at all, but he wondered how conscious his mother actually was. Phil hadn’t told him much about her state and how lucid she was at this stage of the cancer. He watched and was actually a little startled when his mum’s darkened eyes opened slowly in Phil’s direction.

And that’s when Dan saw the resemblance. She had the same eyes. Blue and bright and full of life. Dan’s heart sank when he realized that Phil had once seen her when she mimicked this trait all over. Her heart monitor beeped, signaling a change in pace.

“Oh Phil…honey…” Her voice was like rust on glass, painful to listen to but impossible not to hear. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mum. I’m really good,” Phil answered, his voice broken and his lip was quivering.

“You look like you haven’t…” She took a breath. “…slept.”

“I have. Don’t worry. I’m okay.” Phil looked down at the hand he was holding, the frail and boney one that was nearly half the size of his own. “I’ve brought someone today that I’d like you to meet.”

Dan froze.

“His name is Dan and I work with him,” Phil explained, reaching for Dan who was standing as far out of the way as possible. “Come here, Dan. Come meet my mum.”

Dan smiled and inched toward’s Phil and his mum who was now turning her head an inch so that she could see him. Her face that was looking so dearly at Phil, mustered an expression of joy when her eyes landed on Dan’s features.

“Why he looks just like Sa-” She coughed, nodding and letting it pass. “Samuel.” Phil laughed a little, the blush on his face prominent. “Are you sure you didn’t write him yourself?”

Dan didn’t know why it hadn’t dawned on him before. Of course Phil’s mum read Phil’s books. She was probably a bigger fan than Dan was. And she most likely knew that Phil was Striker. So this was not just a reference to Phil’s novels, his mother was calling him out as his boyfriend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Lester,” Dan bowed his head a little and she seemed delighted. “I’ve heard so many great things about you.”

“Are you taking good care of…my son?” She asked, her breath running short towards the end of the sentence.

“I sure am. Don’t worry,” Dan nodded. He wasn’t lying. Phil was in the right hands. At least Dan hoped he was.

Phil’s mum turned back over to Phil and she closed her eyes.

“Phil…” She breathed, the monitor alerting everyone that her heart was slowing. “Phil I like him.”

Phil was smiling but there were tears rolling down his cheeks and he was wiping them as fast as he could with his other hand. The blue of his eyes seemed to pop when the rest of his face was so red.

“Me too, Mum…me too.”

“I love you so much, Darling…” She coughed. “I lo-” She coughed again, her hand grasping at her chest.

“I love you too, Mum…I love you so much.”

Dan felt like he shouldn’t be here for this moment. Like he had walked in on an extremely intimate scene that he was not supposed to witness. But then Phil glanced at Dan with eyes brimmed with tears and he knew he had to be here. Phil needed him now more than ever so he sat in the chair next to Phil’s and rubbed Phil’s back as he talked to his mother.

“Promise me…” She breathed. “…you’ll keep writing.”

Phil nodded, his thumb rubbing over his mother’s withering hand.

“Don’t cry, Dear…” She reached up with her shaky hand, wiping a tear from Phil’s cheek. “I want to see you s-…” Her hand dropped to the bed. “…smile.”

“Mum-” Phil started, his voice breaking.

“Please, Philly. Smile for me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. It sounded like a gust of wind that could be words if you really listened.

Phil could do nothing but wipe his tears with his jacket sleeve and he smiled for his mother who watched with a faint smile of her own.

“You have such a beautiful…” A cough escaped her lips and it was barely a puff of air. “…smile.”

And that’s when it happened. Phil’s mum’s heart monitor screeched with a signal of what Dan assumed was the end. Phil’s mum’s eyes had closed and her hand fell limp in Phil’s grasp. Phil’s smile, as forced as it was, was long gone. All that was left were heart-wrenching sobs that filled the room while the nurses came rushing in. It was obvious that there was nothing to be done and Dan could only watch as Phil broke down on top of his incredibly beautiful mother.

Wearing a suit and tie was usually reserved for fancy events. Events that required a little sultry and grace. But a funeral was the only event that made a suit look drab. Dan fixed his tie and glanced at his appearance in the mirror. Most joked that his wardrobe was much like a walking funeral but when it came time to actually mourn the death of someone close, it never felt that he was comfortably dressed.

He left his apartment and took a cab to Phil’s. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with strangers asking why he was dressed up. It wasn’t even his mother and he felt like it was too personal.

Phil had cried for hours after they left the hospital. He was a wreck and Dan couldn’t blame him. He had been close with his mother and losing her was probably the most painful thing he could have ever imagined. But Dan was there for him, if not only because he promised Phil’s mum, but because he loved the boy and it hurt him to see Phil this way.

But Phil’s brother had flown in to be with Phil before the funeral and Dan hadn’t seen Phil in two days. Phil had explained how his brother was a very busy man who ran multiple companies and four separate websites. He didn’t have a lot of time to come visit their mother, but apparently if he had known she was in such bad shape, he would have come sooner. Phil didn’t blame Martyn for any of it, he just needed someone there to talk him through all the paperwork. Someone who might know what to do more than Dan would. Martyn sounded like he was collected and organized – the perfect man for the job.

But today was the funeral and of course, Dan was going to be next to Phil the entire day. He couldn’t imagine the pain that Phil was going through. If he and his presence at a morbid event cheered up the love of his life, then he was there in a heartbeat.

Funerals always felt like they lasted forever and with Phil sobbing on his shoulder during the entire ceremony, it was a wonder he had the energy for the post funeral reception that was apparently occurring at Phil’s house.

Dan had learned that Phil’s mum did indeed live with Phil. Her room was on the main floor and that’s why Phil was pretty much secluded to the basement. Unless he needed to cook or leave the house, he had everything he needed down there. It made perfect sense that the reception would be held around all of his mother’s objects. This way, the family members could all gather and collect what was most important to them.

Dan, however, did not expect to lose Phil halfway through the party, only to find him curled on his bed, much like he had been curled on his own only a week and a half prior.

“Phil…” Dan said, his softest voice activated, his tone no harsher than a child’s. “Phil are you okay?”

Phil shook his head and Dan swallowed.

“Aw…come here.” Dan collected the broken man into his arms and he could feel his heart pound woefully in his chest for the weeping man. “I’m so sorry, Phil. I’m so so sorry.”

Phil cried into Dan’s leg for some time, his tears threatening to ruin Dan’s suit, but that was the least of his worries. His one goal was to give Phil everything he needed today. Today and forever.

But hiding in the basement could only last so long when you’re hosting a reception. Eventually, the two were called up for a family meeting that Dan was allowed to sit in for. It was basically just Phil, his brother and a few of his cousins, there to discuss the contents of Catherine’s will. It was extraordinarily uncomfortable for Dan, and Phil didn’t look like he was enjoying it any more. But Dan was there for him and that was what mattered.

When it was time for everyone to leave, Dan said goodbye to Phil and trusted that Phil’s brother would take care of him for a couple days. His brother was staying for a little while – or only until Phil felt like he could handle himself. Dan didn’t want to leave, but he figured it was best. Phil needed the time with family.

But that proved to be one of the biggest mistakes of Dan’s life.

He kissed Phil goodbye and then headed back to his own flat where he got a good night’s rest. He sure as hell wished he had known that would be the last one for a while.

“He what?” Dan asked Louise as she stood before him a couple weeks later. “Did he tell you why?”

“He called and quit. That’s all he said. Dan, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t seen him,” Louise said, her voice full of sorrow.

Dan had been trying to reach Phil for two weeks now and the boy hadn’t even turned on his phone. Christmas had come and passed and the new year had begun. Phil’s phone had gone straight to voicemail each and every time. He messaged him on Facebook and got nothing. He even tried contacting Phil’s brother who told him he had left a day after the holiday. Phil was MIA and Dan was starting to get worried.

He wasn’t proud, but he ended up going to Phil’s house that night and he knocked for a full hour. He got nothing. Not even a shuffle from inside. He even went down to Phil’s window in the basement and knocked on that for a while. But there was nothing.

Dan sulked back home, walking the entire way with a sinking feeling.

With updates every now and then from Phil’s brother, telling him that yes, Phil was still alive, Dan went a month and a half without seeing him. He continued to work at The Brew Bean because he needed the money for rent, but he would go home with a frown each and every day.

The worst part about all of this, was that he couldn’t even read his favorite books. Even Striker was no comfort to a loss like this.

Dan understood why Phil needed his time away. Mourning someone was an excruciating process that Dan couldn’t even begin to understand. He had never lost anyone so dear in his life. But Dan was a person as well and even though his pain was nowhere close to Phil’s right now, he felt as though he was mourning a Lester as well. Phil had left his life so suddenly and with every ounce of his being, he wanted to comfort his soulmate from the destruction he was surely facing.

Their relationship was like nothing he had ever experienced. Such passion and adventure was something he only read in Phil’s novels and now that he had a taste, it was painful to think he might never take another bite again.

“With passionate romance came tragic heartbreak.”

A quote that Phil had coined himself in his third book. The only one Dan could bear to read right now. It was all about Striker’s struggle with being away from Samuel. If only he could read the other side. The one where Samuel is left at home while the love of his life is battling demons.

Much like Phil was doing now.

One month turned to two and one day while he was running a very simple yet important errand, his eyes caught a beautifully decorated gold and black book that rested on the “New Releases” pile of Dan’s favorite bookstore. It wasn’t every day that a book actually fit his aesthetic. He sauntered over to it and his eyes nearly popped from his spinning head.

This was a new novel written by nobody other than Phil Lester.

Dan had never bought a book that fast. He contemplated stealing it but that wouldn’t be good for Phil’s sales. He practically ran to the nearest restaurant, he didn’t even care that it was a fancy one that only served wine and overpriced cheese, he ordered the first thing he saw on the menu and turned the book over so he could read the back.

Striker gears up for his next adventure, this time with his trusty companion Samuel. But when disaster strikes in his own backyard, Striker finds that first he must slay the demons inside him before going out and tackling everyone else’s. How will Samuel help Striker on this more than personal adventure of the heart and soul? Can Striker save himself and Samuel from what dwells beneath the skin of his own flesh? What happens when Striker is taken over by the hideous monster inside? Will Samuel be able to save him or will the job prove too much?

Dan could not believe what he was reading. Not only had Phil produced a book in only two months, it had a much different vibe than the rest of his fiction. This one was dark. Even the book itself screamed it’s morbid nature. Phil was crying for help and this book was the start of Dan’s ability to help.

So he cracked the spine of the book and started to read.

Once the book was finished and he tipped the confused waitstaff an enormous amount of money for sitting at the same table for 5 hours, he was out the door and running. Dan couldn’t even remember the last time he ran. It must have been back when he was still in school and his teachers had forced him. But as his hair flopped about and his desire to reach the author of this stunning book increased, he let his pace match. He ran past people and objects and couldn’t even care that his legs burned from the use. He must have ran two miles at least, his forehead beading with the sweat he shed.

When he reached Phil’s residence, he was out of breath and clutching the novel to his chest. He didn’t care how long it took Phil to come to the door, he was coming outside and they were going to talk. Dan was not going to give up that easily.

“Phil!” He knocked loudly with a strong fist. “I know you’re in there! Please! Open up!”

There was nothing, as expected, and Dan just kept knocking.

Soon, he was sitting on the stoop like some sort of crazy human being, knocking at the bottom of the door like it was life or death.

When night fell and dark had cascaded against the London city, he sat clutching the book and contemplating everything. He opened the book to the last page and read the last paragraph again, gaining some comfort from Phil’s words - as always.

Samuel took a breath and cut the head from the last demon, saving Striker once and for all. His lover lied beneath him with a breathless gaze. Samuel had saved his life. He owed everything to the man that was now collecting him in his arms.

“Thank you…” Striker mumbled, his heart beating faster and his lips drawing closer to Samuel’s.

“You can’t tackle your demons on your own, Striker…” He spoke softly and kindly, his brown eyes sparkling with wonder. “But don’t worry. I’ll be here and we can tackle them together.”

Dan hummed in appreciation and he let a few tears fall from his eyes. He knew Phil was miserable without him. If this book was anything to go by, he needed Dan more than Dan thought.

“Please, Phil…” He knocked at the foot of the door a few more times with his swollen fists. “Please, Phil. Let me in.”

As if Phil sniffed Dan’s desperate pleas, the ones right before he would inevitably give up, the lock on the door shifted. Dan was a fool and jumped, getting startled by the sudden change. He scrambled to his feet and kept the book tight against his pounding chest as if it would contain his beating heart.

And when Phil finally opened the door, Dan’s heart melted. He was just as beautiful as Dan remembered – not like that could ever change – but the blue had mellowed from Phil’s eyes and there was something so foreign about his gaze. Dan couldn’t tell if it had changed or if he just couldn’t remember. But either way, Dan wasn’t ever leaving Phil’s side again.

“Hey…” Phil said, his voice quiet and his glance pleaded for Dan to forgive him. If Dan knew anything about Phil, it was that he felt bad about the pain he caused anyone. He probably knew how painful it was for Dan to stand here and see Phil for the first time in two months. He probably knew how painful it was to leave Dan. Because he was dealing with the same pain right now. Dan could see it in his eyes.

Wasting no more time, Dan unclenched the book from his chest and held it out for Phil to see.

“Will you sign my copy?”

Not even he recognized his quiet voice and when Phil saw his hesitant smile, he let one escape his lips as well.

“I’ll do you one better…” Phil reached inside and grabbed something from the table next to the door. “How about the original draft?”

Dan’s chin quivered and the tears were rolling down his cheeks when he saw what Phil had done. On the front of the stack of papers, Phil had taken a red pen to the title: “Samuel and Striker’s Adventure Within” and replaced the names to Dan and Phil.

He stepped inside, not even waiting for an invitation and he grabbed Phil by the waist, connecting their lips. He didn’t even care when he tasted the salt from their tears combined. This was where he belonged. Right by Phil’s side. No matter what.

“Phil?” Dan pulled away, still merely inches from his boyfriend’s lips, his brown eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Hm?”

“You can’t tackle your demons on your own.”

[crueldylant]

Cruel Dace

“Hey,” Liam snorted, choking on his breath of smoke. “You’ll never guess what happened last night.” It was two o’clock in the morning on a Friday night and the four of them were slumped into camp chairs in Dylan’s backyard, sitting around the bonfire that never seemed to go out, especially at that time of year, fall only just beginning. They’d skipped a party to keep it local, small, just them and the fire. And they were high out of their minds. Dylan smiled, tapping the ash from his joint. “Hm?” he asked for him to continue, pulling his eyes away from the stars he was dazed by. “This girl I was with last night,” he started, leaning forward like he was ready to tell an interesting story. “Taylor something-” he shook his head like it wasn’t important, gaining the attention of the rest of the group. “We were, like, two seconds from having sex right. I mean, she was completely naked.” He snorted then, like something was so hilarious about the fact. “And then she tells me, get this,” he sighed, rubbing his hand through his hair. “She wants to wait for the right person. She’s never had sex before and she wants it to be special.” Harry snorted next to him, smoke bellowing above his curls. Dylan smiled, lazy and distant, turning his eyes back up to the sky to listen. “That’s fucked.” Liam wasn’t done there. “I mean, I don’t care if a chick changes her mind, but... how do you realize two seconds out that you want it to be special?” Liam expressed his frustration, taking another long drag from the joint in his hands. It gave time for Louis to pipe up, grinning from ear to ear in the chair next to him. “Maybe she saw your dick and changed her mind.” Everybody minus Liam had a little chuckle at that, while the man being insulted only rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean though? Like... why did it take that long?” He continued, trying to get back onto the subject of being serious. Nobody had a good answer, Dylan just shrugged in response. It was silent for a while they mulled it over. “Has anybody here actually been someone’s first?” Harry piped up, looking at the group around him. It was silent for a little longer, everybody mulling it over. Dylan shrugged again. “Probably. I wouldn’t know, though.”

It opened up an entirely different conversation, one he wasn’t expecting when he was just trying to enjoy the stars swirling above them. “I think most girls these days don’t really care.” Louis sat forward in his chair, poking the fire with a stick to keep it going. “The concept of virginity is dead, as it should be.” The group had a small laugh, blowing smoke out of their mouths and drowning themselves in the alcohol his dad picked up for them. The other boys told him he was lucky, for having a father like that. On nights like that, he could agree. “I think it’d be nice to find a girl that still wanted it to be special.” Harry chimed in, earning a raised eyebrow from Liam next to him. “Not for like, the romance, or anything...” he trailed off, snorting. “It’d be nice to work for it. Y’know, it’s a little too easy these days.” Dylan snorted then, kicking his leg with his own. “Mr. Fuckin’ Loverboy, huh?” They laughed at Harry’s expense, even Harry, until he had a good point. “Think about it, though. When was the last time you really had to work for it?” The group was silent, thinking back on their own conquests with girls. They’d never really had a major issue in the first place, but he was right. Once they hit Sophomore year and earned square jaws, and got their licenses, and had more smoke dangling from their breath than oxygen, they were a little sought after. It was the Californian Girl’s dream. A bad boy, a boy who would piss off her parents, getting off on the idea of rebelling. It was even easier now that they were seniors, that they’d grown into a reputation, even attracting attention from girls in other schools. Nothing was a challenge, a chase. Harry had a point. “You’re right.” Dylan spoke up after a long moment of silent, reaching for a cigarette. “The chase is dead, too.” Louis piped up then, sitting forward on his chair like the conversation was suddenly interesting. “Let’s be honest though, would we even be able to get a girl like that?” Harry must have thought about it for only a second, smiling with the effects of being high. “You might not be able to.” The rest of them were high too, laughing though it wasn’t even that funny. Louis rolled his eyes, reaching for his long neck. “Nah, come on. We’d probably get too bored waiting around. Plus, we’re not the charming and romantic type.” It was silent, like they all agreed. Only Dylan was thinking hard on the subject, trying to keep at the front of his brain before it floated off. It was actually Liam who said something first. “Dylan probably could,” he snorted, glancing his way. “Remember Stacey Holland?” Dylan laughed without meaning to, rubbing at his temple. “God, I try not to.” Stacey Holland was a girl he slept with in his first semester of being a junior, which turned out to be a rough mistake. It had only taken maybe three days before she slept with him, and right afterwards, couldn’t stop talking about their future together. She loved the vibe they had together, loved the idea of them going to college and running off to Colorado together. Dylan had left so quickly he was sure she saw a trail of smoke. He was just lucky she went to a different school. “I probably could, though.” Dylan agreed, taking a sip from his beer. He had no idea where it was going, that conversation. But he never would have guessed if he had the chance to. “No you couldn’t.” Louis laughed, earning a raised eyebrow from Dylan. “One hundred percent.” Louis wasn’t buying it, and ended up starting something a lot deeper than pot talk. “Wanna bet?”

Four boys high out of their minds, laughing at the stars and drinking until the fire went out, shouldn’t have been responsible to make any sort of bet. Not one as elaborate as the one they made, at least. Harry typed out the rules in a notepad on his phone, making sure they didn’t forget anything the next morning, as they were all pretty interested to see how it would work out. “Okay, so,” Harry started, a cigarette dangling loosely from between his fingers as he read out what he had written down. “You have until the end of the semester to sleep with a girl that deems pure enough, with the approval of the three of us.” Dylan nodded, keeping in step even though he was completely gone. “If you do, all three of us owe you two hundred dollars each. If you lose, you owe each of two hundred, blah, blah.” They all nodded again, following along. “She has to go to our school.” Harry read off, only for Louis to pipe up then, making his life a lot harder than it needed to be. “And you can’t sleep with anyone else until it happens.” The other three laughed while Dylan tried to argue the point, but he was out-ruled. “You have to look faithful and shit, you know, play that nice guy game. You can’t be caught with someone else.” Dylan groaned, ashing his cigarette under a heavy foot. “Fine, whatever. It shouldn’t take that long anyway.” It was locked in like a contract, lazy hands reaching out to shake for the sake of it. “So,” Liam clapped his hands together, a lazy grin on his face. “Who’s the lucky girl gonna be?” They laughed for hours that night, coming up with crazy suggestions until their ribs hurt, going through girls in their school that would fall for it. By the morning, a girl wasn’t clear. Neither was his head. They made the mistake of heading to the beach that afternoon, finding the girl Harry hooked up with sometimes. She was a real surfer type, always smoking with them when she wasn’t in the water. It was fine, hanging out by the beach while the sun went down, until- “Trelawney.” Dylan squinted across at the guy who was approaching them, all beefed shoulders like he masturbated to pictures of himself. It took a second, but then it clicked. Darren Wilde, a guy on their football team. The boyfriend of Rachel Holback, a girl he’d just slept with. “For fuck sake,” Dylan grumbled to himself, dropping the cigarette from his mouth. It wasn’t pretty, even with four against one. Dylan ended up with a bloodied eyebrow, a black bruise swelling around his eye an hour later, and damaged ribs. They had to split when they got the attention of the lifeguards, knowing they’d call the cops the second they saw the fight. They jumped into Harry’s beat up Honda and took off, laughing through their injuries. By the time he got home it was dark, his father’s car wasn’t in the driveway, and Sam was in the kitchen on the phone. She looked his way when he came in, pausing mid-sentence as her eyes raked over his face, and only sighed when she went back to talking to whoever it was on the phone. Probably a new boy. He rounded the living room then, finding a blonde head of hair resting over the couch. Grace. She was always there, always hanging out with his sister. Dylan didn’t know her much, only that she had been witnessed to a few sibling fights in the past. She was kind of quiet, he never really saw her around school, or heard about her for that matter. But she was cute. It felt like something clicked then, without Dylan ever blinking twice. He smiled to himself, in disbelief of why he hadn’t thought of her yet. With Sam out of the room, it was his perfect in. “Hey.” He mumbled quietly, standing behind the couch still, looking over all the books on the table. They must have been studying for something. He smiled with the look she gave him, completely aware of the blood dripping down the side of his face. “Sorry, Sam’s stuck on the phone, do you, uh...” he pointed to the side of his face, hinting at the obvious. “Do you know your way around a first aid kit? I’m clueless with gauze.” He smiled again, something small, something a lot less dangerous than he was used to. Six hundred dollars. Six hundred dollars. Six hundred dollars.

[lunarfae714]

guatemaya & mecksiko

12.29 Atop Yaxha Pyramid

when we can measure our journey

in love shared,

found, exchanged?

instead of in fear of disease

hijack eyes of mania

panic

feeding-off-conflict

the beauty is known no ego

only offerings

can the love always be

charged like the Sun,

infinite, and changing

in each hour-

when does it become a service,

the exchange?

when can it be fully free

undrained, exuberant?

for yourself & for all

for the earth

for the wind

for all that is—

changing form

a leminascate

can it all be

selfless 

words & actions,

are they enough?

like the rocks that love the water which kisses them,

the eternal dance 

of stability & moving union.

***

after noon

soft dreams

downstream

count backwards

from twenty

& forth

until the numbers dissolve

facts turn to feeling

& the border boxes break free

natural & unseen

patterns yet changing

each non-moment still

like pre-dawn’s cirrus

the dance like curtain

unfold away lights

strong-

the elements

burnt sun

ice water

really

feeling it all

full

heart

full

mind

full

of

nothing

as it should BE

always still

&  moving

seed to harvest

sow

in to morrow

with Love’s light

blasting

*

1.17.16

amethyst

charged

emerald & selentine

dreams directed

by the mind’s wind

candlewax drip

fixed on fingers

the torch lights

our nightcrawl

naked under the quarter moon

& the river runs high

poison toads

& branches that split,

graze under the soles

night becomes dawn

time told by Sky

the visions change in Ember’s logs

consume gadgets not necessary

almighty mother fire force

acts, destroys, creates

our womb ignite

as we place hot stones on our sacral chakras,

active the living unacknowledged children

the family of us

&

the natural

All living as one.

water pulleys from the creek,

the new flow.

the same water near passes

over our feet twice

our collective feeling,

on solid foundations.

***

when I’m alone

& write poems

of travelers notes

how real addictions can be

to communication

sugar from the parasite

all the world addicted to the white mans crystal

ancient ruins of conquest

how to get away

from conquerer mentality?

can we remove ourselves from history?

why do we capture another?

separate, control, dominate

trapped in the material system

material hunger

we are spiritual beings

meant to live like plants

will it disappear as the bombs go

the few who print the papers

the chemicals & vaccines

police and sex tourists

drag us where?

the north and south pole

on the same earth.

*

morning meditation on the river dock

silver smokerings oscillate

tubes of ashes fall

the air moves east

& the river rolls west—

wind & water

frankincense & appelblauwzeegroen

their dance

smooth & constant

like thoughts dancing along the rivers

(background noise is all)

no use to anticipate

the next moment

or dwell

the past moment

who you were

what you said

what you thought

what you felt

meaningless

when we live in the mind

in our fears, pain, or planning

we will miss the sweet kiss

of wind on our lips,

the first sip of coffee, bitter

the way the monkeypod shines crimson

gleams bark in the noon sun,

the glory in taking a inhale deep

in tune with the sway of the trees,

you may not see

the makeshift fishingrod

of sticks & shells

the bearded fishermans tailored pants

beside me on the dock

what are we trying to catch?

how simple to speak in silence

when we are at peace,

knowing we swim through these bodies

beyond our crown

beneath our feet

complete

in the profound simplicity

of stillness.

***

day mares

1.7.16

cold breeze & hard nips

a woman sings go ask alice 

and the naked children shushing me

under fallen ladders ex-lovers

with newfound company locked

out of the room of togetherness

outside, the observer watches

the time

a stolen wristwatch

a sun blistered lip,

salty like sea waves

& bad barganing

what golden melancholy brings

an even pace a meditation

a clearing of nebulous brain lobes

rotten with acid washed

down gopher holes

bruised & fallen tangerines

which do we shape shift into

focus our energy our hearts

we can be the potted plant

or are we already,

and who is the gardener?

****

san marcos sound wave

lights across the lake, starry

dogfights in the calle

endless & ghastly

cries of infants constant

like crickets

& fireworks

thrown reckless

like the piles of shit

scattered on cement

trumpets & flutes

balancing cop cars on fire

across the lake

peace in the balance

of turquoise caldera

the mother lake

has waves.

*

*

when i heard pretchel speak of

the navel—

bellybutton of the earth

blood sacrificed from the

hard hits

deep fingered

dirty regrets

just to sleep in a bed

away from the nightmares shadow/work

9-5 & 5-9

what a way to pass the time

we jump off the piers onto boats

trembling volcanos make our circles as we

kiss on the mouth

bless the food

break the blender

pull the Devil

karma

as orange the Sun understand

could twist that way

pure BLISS the goddess

we are all a part of

perfect nothingness

nonetheless

i am you

are me

what i do to you

i do to me

when i pour out my mind

like lemonade

the sun shines through

shitshow brigade

body ecstasy

outside the body

we were born as two

we were born without shoes

without the navel of the earth

that keeps

pulling us back.

***

friends with scorpions

the all-knowing scorpion

aliens

why do they return

to the same places

same beds like

second-time lovers

who think they can get by

hiding beneath your pillow

while you wonder in silence

what it will take to be strong

amid Surprise

**

5.18

sleep paralysis

& dead drunks on the sidewalk

brains hanging loose over

puddle of blood sangria

faerira any excuse

to drink to death

feel the pain in my kidneys

free the beating heart parasite

pulse in my body

pulse in my pulse

in my despair,

mary oliver’s wild geese sing,

tell me of yours

i will tell you mine

tell me why the shadow man

comes at the coldest part of night

sun rise before

we rise too

pretend these bodies

will keep us going

and the wind will carry us

in the way she pleases

living to die noble

or living humbly?

***

6.20

sweetwater

the little pleasures-

to graze my tongue along a frozen mango

perfectly ripe

deep orange, unique & so sensual,

craving union with the mouth

to remain nude all day in the jungle

to dance wildly to a drumbeat capable of visioning

to hear ruiz shout the problems of the mind

to think of life outside misery

to cook granola on the fire

to free the lice eggs from my head

to view problems as roadblocks

water-filled potholes choose

how to get through and admire the turtle.

reptilian overload

to see the birth of the day—

the fresh black baby chick

bounce under mamas wing

to roam freely & pick cactus spikes

to prepare dinner

all when the negativity has stepped out. 

***

jellyfish regenerate, they are the aliens of the sea. 

how to live naturally, harmoniously

here i am, meant to

reflect the fucked up system i am from,

to encourage others to return to the land.

wake up & work together

return to simplicity

not selfishness, pleasure & comfort

we meet the right people at the right time.

truth comes in action & awakening

not the the illusion of movement

or perception deception.

thank you iyke

***

*

not feeling

vs. feeling it all

meant to ascend

& experience nothing

do you love rollercoasters

or are we?

*

poems hidden in moleskins

in a sugar-addicted consumer country

malnutrition consciousness

school teachers in system to know the enemy

there’s a reason why the madmen cooped up in the jungle

away from us all

& there’s a reason why the city folk stay cooped up in concrete,

swarm like fish, absorbed in screens & button

virtual reality, where Gaia Mama

shows her pubes in remote rooftops

the belief in the debt coins & papers

manifest by three generations of puppeteers.

And yet-

who feels more alive?

i see the frustrated alien bacteria control the game

war mentality,

beheading kittens 

craves community-

yet blows them away with the word vomit violence.

hate the system, know the system

to use the system,let the system

control how much can we control?

how much will outside stimuli satisfy?

busy consume interweb-reliant

instantly gratified

forget what is really gratification, blessings

how many systems

no different species

we are infinite,

nonlinear time

no reptiles control

don’t get caught up in the spiderweb of the world

who weaves your dreams?

the spiders body, lemniscate

forever expanding

intend, manifest, unchain, let be.

you  hate poetry because it doesn’t move fast enough

& paints a portrait too pretty

unknowing that scenery

& the white spaces

speak and move in in ways

the human body could never.

spinning in the cycle of earthly life

creatures on the wheel, darwin

hired to tell us dog-eat-dog

& win not work together

lets separate for power & call it evolution.

but we eat too. we eat chemicals in candy

the white man’s crack, let memory be a hard drive

in the computers of our minds.

backpacker dilemma

live in love

live to get high

live in fear

live to die

live to live

***

morning coffee with crazed

one way to wake up.

irony of sitting & talking

the real parasite the defeat of pessimism

when truth speaks

don’t be insulted

swimming in sweat

in the mexican sun

caked dirt

being in isolation

makes one angrier?

lonelier?

working together

the real solution

instead of believing

in the money go-round

that separates us in our boxes

our safe.

*

in a meat-excessive society

to fight, kill, invade

poison the food

control the water

damage the sea

leak nuclear waste

when free energy

could fix it all?

ets walk, step by step,

mindful

in our place

in the evolution

of being, aware

of control, corruption

of our ripple, on ourselves

into the universe and under the stars.

remember what hicks said,

we are all expressions of the same ocean

6.16

each day i’m asked by a mexican man

why I’m traveling alone

they don’t understand

im not alone

last weeks companion

a parasite in my gut

and now i have a family of lice on my head.

eggs waiting to watch

you see

i attract the finest suitors to share myself with

you wouldn’t think they wouldn’t want to join me

as i walk for hours in vernal Mexican sun

eating only fruit

living away from traditional travelers

caught in the system

on vacation oil their money runs out

drinking their way along the hostel road

sightseeing the hits of their tourist books

you are your surroundings

you are your environment

express the unique wave

you image yourself to be

all your beliefs

shaped by stimuli, external

reflections

pregnant in the dreamscape.

*

fast-paced taqueria tales

i find it silly to spend much money on myself

pay the price of locals

& sit at the tamale stand

on the street corner

with teens and papas

& saucy mujer server

(always love that central american women are not afraid to laugh at you)

behind the counter like a dealer

in the casino of the calle.

bright lights

of the coke machine behind her

& bad television, sports that fuel the town

in the sugar-addicted novella.

division as entertainment.

hit me.

another tamale strikes the bar

with swift hands,

the 40 peso workday

soft camote sleeps in a bed of corn

under a blanket of hot sauce.

hit me.

*

a week of accidental fruitarianism.

can’t stand the heat

reptilian land

a far walk to the village

flesh-eating bacteria going around

the one who passes gives me a ride

with shotguns in the backseat

he eyes it & grins,

“are you scared?”

*

today a gang member

tattooed tears under his eye

in an iron blue shirt

large bodyguard

working the tourist turtle beach

like a chessboard

eyescans

hustling at the entrance

to watch all who come & go

like prey. he lent me

his nephew’s jacket

from his swanky rick roller

family car

and thought about

the slice of cheesecake in the dumpster

you can find sweet things hiding

in all corners of the earth.

*

pat watches as papayas

do the reverse-rainbow dance

satisfied, self-reliant

as the green parrots pass

& a new pair of eyes

hatch from the egg.

meanwhile, the masses dive

in binary systems

of separation, run the wheel of the money-go-round

chew on the potent chemicals,

live inside cement boxes,

domesticated mice working for money-driven madmen

but

since time isn’t linear

& the seeds have been planted

what you seek

is seeking you

in the karmic cycle

of non-attachment

non-aversion

true action.

with steady hands,

a quiet mind,

patience

you’ll watch the earth

return to tribe or die.

*

flora teaches us

to honor what’s growing

follow new life

all realities created

*

christmas eve in the mayan jungle

mules do the pleasure bankroll not he dirt

as the rainbow scale turkeys peek aimlessly from the forest

the jaguar stalks the deer behind us

& the howler monkeys do the tree-top tango.

their call like a lion

i practice the guitarita

watch makeshift football

& lazing hammock brothers sway

blistered soles from miles of dirt deep

treks through mosquito village

i miss my blood family

yet present with my tree family.

my ancestors in their mysteries

corn & snake gods

modern looters & night guards

body full like the moon,

blood sacrifices and love rituals on the jaguar pyramid,

solstice of the waves of this recycled life

of forgiveness.

*

[whitewolfwings]

Dance with the Devil

[Verse 1] I once knew a nigga whose real name was William His primary concern, was making a million Being the illest hustler, that the world ever seen He used to fuck movie stars and sniff coke in his dreams A corrupted young mind, at the age of thirteen Nigga never had a father and his mom was a fiend She put the pipe down, but for every year she was sober Her son's heart simultaneously grew colder He started hanging out, selling bags in the projects Checking the young chicks, looking for hit-and-run prospects He was fascinated by material objects But he understood money never bought respect He built a reputation 'cause he could hustle and steal But got locked once and didn't hesitate to squeal So criminals he chilled with didn't think he was real You see, me and niggas like this have never been equal I don't project my insecurities on other people He fiended for props like addicts with pipes and needles So he felt he had to prove to everyone he was evil A feeble-minded young man with infinite potential The product of a ghetto-bred capitalistic mental Coincidentally dropped out of school to sell weed Dancing with the devil, smoked until his eyes would bleed But he was sick of selling trees and gave in to his greed [Hook] Everyone trying to be trife never face the consequences You probably only did a month for minor offences Ask a nigga doing life if he had another chance But then again there's always the wicked that knew in advance Dance forever with the devil on a cold cell block But that's what happens when you rape, murder and sell rock Devils used to be gods angels that fell from the top There's no diversity because we're burning in the melting pot [Verse 2] So Billy started robbing niggas, anything he could do To get his respect back, in the eyes of his crew Starting fights over little shit, up on the block Stepped up to selling mothers and brothers the crack rock Working overtime for making money for the crack spot Hit the jackpot and wanted to move up to cocaine fulfilling the Scarface fantasy stuck in his brain Tired of the block niggas treating him the same He wanted to be major like the cut-throats and the thugs But when he tried to step to 'em, niggas showed him no love They told him any motherfucking coward can sell drugs Any bitch nigga with a gun can bust slugs Any nigga with a red shirt can front like a blood Even Puffy smoked a motherfucker up in a club But only a real thug can stab someone till they die Standing in front of them, staring straight into their eyes Billy realized that these men were well-guarded And they wanted to test him before business started Suggested raping a bitch to prove he was cold-hearted So now he had a choice between going back to his life Or making money with made men, up in the cife His dreams about cars and ice made him agree A hardcore nigga is all he ever wanted to be And so he met them Friday night at a quarter to three [Hook] [Verse 3] They drove around the projects slow while it was raining Smoking blunts, drinking and joking for entertainment Until they saw a woman on the street walking alone Three in the morning, coming back from work, on her way home And so they quietly got out the car and followed her Walking through the projects, the darkness swallowed her They wrapped her shirt around her head and knocked her onto the floor "This is it kid, now you got your chance to be raw." So Billy yoked her up and grabbed the chick by the hair And dragged her into a lobby that had nobody there She struggled hard but they forced her to go up the stairs They got to the roof and then held her down on the ground Screaming, "Shut the fuck up and stop moving around!" The shirt covered her face, but she screamed and clawed So Billy stomped on the bitch, 'til he broken her jaw Them dirty bastards knew exactly what they were doing They kicked her until they cracked her ribs and she stopped moving Blood leaking through the cloth, she cried silently And then they all proceeded to rape her violently Billy was made to go first, but each of them took a turn Ripping her up, and choking her until her throat burned Her broken jaw mumbled for God but they weren't concerned When they were done and she was lying bloody, broken and bruised One of them niggas pulled out a brand new twenty-two They told him that she was a witness for what she'd gone through And if he killed her he was guaranteed a spot in the crew He thought about it for a minute, she was practically dead And so he leaned over and put the gun right to her head [Sample from "Survival of the Fittest" by Mobb Deep] I'm falling and I can't turn back I'm falling and I can't turn back [Verse 4] Right before he pulled the trigger, and ended her life He thought about the cocaine with the platinum and ice And he felt strong standing along with his new brothers Cocked the gat to her head, and pulled back the shirt cover But what he saw made him start to cringe and stutter 'Cause he was staring into the eyes of his own mother She looked back at him and cried, 'cause he had forsaken her She cried more painfully, than when they were raping her His whole world stopped, he couldn't even contemplate His corruption had successfully changed his fate And he remembered how his mom used to come home late Working hard for nothing, 'cause now what was he worth He turned away from the woman that had once given him birth And crying out to the sky 'cause he was lonely and scared But only the devil responded, 'cause god wasn't there And right then he knew what it was to be empty and cold And so he jumped off the roof and died with no soul They say death takes you to a better place but I doubt it After that they killed his mother, and never spoke about it And listen 'cause the story that I'm telling is true 'Cause I was there with Billy Jacobs and I raped his mom too And now the devil follows me everywhere that I go In fact, I'm sure he's standing among one of you at my shows And every street cypher listening to little thugs flow He could be standing right next to you, and you wouldn't know The devil grows inside the hearts of the selfish and wicked White, brown, yellow and black color is not restricted You have a self-destructive destiny when you're inflicted And you'll be one of god's children that fell from the top There's no diversity because we're burning in the melting pot So when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never Because a dance with the devil might last you forever [Hidden end feat. Diabolic] [Immortal Technique] Oh y'all motherfuckers thought it was over, huh? Well it's not. You didn't count on a fallen angel getting back into the grace of god and coming after you. Ya'll niggas ain't shit Your producers ain't shit. Your fuckin' A & R ain't shit. I'll fuckin' wipe my ass with your demo deal. Yo, Diabolic, take this motherfucker's head off! [Diabolic] Go 'head and grip Glocks I'll snap your trigger finger in six spots You'll have to lip lock with hypodermic needles to lick shots I'll watch you topple flat Put away your rings and holla back Can't freestyle, you're screwed off the top like bottle caps Beneath the surface I'm overheatin' your receiving circuits by unleashin' deeper verses than priests speak in churches What you preach is worthless Your worship defeat the purpose Like President Bush takin' bullets for the secret service Beyond what y'all fathom I shit on cats and jaw tap 'em Show no compassion like havin' a straight-faced orgasm Tour jack 'em Have his half-a-ten bitch suck my friend's dick In the mean time, you can french kiss this clenched fist Diabolic A one-man brigade spreading cancer plague This fuckin' a pussy's face Holdin' a hand grenade So if I catch you bluffin' Faggot, you're less than nothin' I just had to get that stress off my chest like breast reduction [Immortal Technique] You motherfuckers are nothing, you cannot harm me I'll resurrect every aborted baby and start an army Storm the planet huntin' you down, 'cause I'm on a mission To split your body into a billion one-celled organisms Immortal Technique'll destroy your religion, you stupid bitch You're faker than blue-eyed crackers nailed to a crucifix I'm 'bout to blow up like NASA Challenger computer chips Arsenic language transmitted revolutionarily I'm like time itself, I'm gonna kill you inevitably Chemically bomb you, fuck usin' a chrome piece I'm illmatic, you won't make it home like Jerome's niece I'll sever your head diagonally for thinkin' of dissin' me And then use your dead body to write my name in calligraphy This puppet democracy brain-washed your psychology So you're nothing, like diversity without equality And your crew is full of more faggots than Greek mythology Usin' numerology to count the people I sent to Heaven Produces more digits than 22 divided by 7 You're like Kevin Spacey, your style is usually suspect You never killed a cop, you not a motherfuckin' thug yet Your mind is empty and spacious Like the part of the brain that appreciates culture and erases Face it, you're too basic You're never gonna make it Like children walking through Antarctica, butt naked