#then there was the moment i was sitting in my intimacy room menu (a week ago)

[fisheito]

@murdertramp25 replied to your post “excuse me blade, sir, drioid,maam, why are u so...”:

i stg Blade sneaks up on you like that tho!! im like 'haha yeah idk blade is okay i guess' and then i see him and im like '!!!! babey! baby boy!!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!!!'

​i'm stuck in a slow burn with all these goddamm pnjpegs and i don't know when the oh. is gonna hit this is a neverending daymare

[adorethedistance]

All Day Affair - Charlie Gillespie x Reader (18+)

JATP Masterlist - Valentine’s Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ Smut, swearing, light embarrassment (minors DNI)

Words: 2757

Summary: A rough night before leads to a slow morning after, causing you and Charlie to be late to Valentine’s brunch plans. All is forgiven and all is forgotten when he makes it up to you in the best way he can.

A/n: This weekend has not at all gone the way I’d thought/hoped it would and so I apologize for the slow churning of fics lately but I promise I am working on some much requested fics. On a lighter note, here is my contribution to the Valentine’s Day

My eyes groggily flutter open when I hear my phone rapidly buzzing on the bedside table. Charlie’s arm is draped over my exposed midriff, no doubt a position of his own doing. As I go to move his arm off my bare skin, he holds onto me tighter groaning an incoherent string of words. I attempt to grab the maniacally buzzing device with my eyes still closed. I’m incapacitated via Charlie’s hold on my waist, and thus, all I feel under my flattened hand against the cool surface are the discarded condom wrappers from last night.

“Charlie,” I scold, still not fully awake. He knowingly loosens his grip, allowing me to sit up and it isn’t until I’m upright and Charlie’s arm drops into my lap that I realize I’m completely naked under his t-shirt. My phone has not stopped vibrating like crazy much to my dismay. Haphazardly grabbing it off the nightstand, I wait for my eyes to adjust before I read the time.

11:26.

“SHIT. Charlie! Charlie, we’re late!” I try and shake him awake. He whines miserably,

“Mmmmm, what?”

“It’s 11:26, we’re late!”

The messages are from Owen and Savannah, both of whom we were supposed to be meeting for brunch at 11. While Charlie and I wanted Valentine’s Day plans alone, we also wanted to spend time with our friends whom we love dearly. Since the original plan was for the two of us to have the evening all to ourselves, we agreed on having brunch to start the day off well. Look how that turned out for us. I scramble out of bed, and I nearly hit the floor as my legs give out from under me. Luckily, Charlie was right behind me and was able to catch me in time.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just sore.”

“Yessss.” I fake slap his chest before we resume in the chaos, frantically throwing on decent outfits. I toss Charlie one of his band shirts turned muscle tees after hopping into a pair of jeans. Once dressed, I run to the bathroom and pass a brush through my hair in a frenzy before I begin brushing my teeth at lightning speed. Charlie appears beside me to brush his own teeth, and I’m practically sprinting out of the bathroom as he does.

“Don’t forget to fix your hair!” My legs nearly give out once more as I struggle to slip on my favorite pair of sneakers. Once I’m upright again, and stable, I grab both of our wallets and the keys to the house and car and shove them into my bag. Together we bolt out the door and clamber into Charlie’s orange Subaru.

In a nice contrast to all the rushing around we’ve done this morning, Charlie drives at a regular speed; thankfully, we make it to the restaurant in one piece. As soon as he puts the car in park the two of us run to the entrance to see our friends waiting at an outdoor table on the patio. Charlie and I finally made it, albeit a tad out of breath.

“Charlie, Y/n, nice of you to finally join us.”

“11:44 on the dot. Not your latest arrival, but an honorable mention,” Savannah jeers, waving me over to sit beside her.

“What happened this time?”

“Overslept. My usual alarm didn’t go off, I must’ve forgotten to turn it on last night.”

“Classic.” I’m distracted from Owen’s teasing when Savannah’s humorous smile drops. She’s looking at me with an emotion I can’t distinguish.

“You okay?” She simply nods and then pushes her chair back.

“I need to pee and you do too. Come on, Y/n.” And without allowing me to reply, she has me up out of the chair and briskly walking toward the bathroom. It isn’t until we’re outside the single stall that I noticed she grabbed my bag from the back of my chair. Once she’s locked us both in the room, she looks at me with wide eyes and a suppressed smile.

“What’s going on?”

“What’s this?” She answers my question with a question, before using her left index finger to poke the right side of my neck.

“Ow!” My face drops once I realize. Brushing past her, I move to stand in front of the bathroom mirror, inspecting the assemblage of love bites all over my neck area. Savannah merely giggles at the realization before opening my bag.

“You don’t have a sponge, so we’re gonna have to use our fingers.” I turn around to look at her, not through the mirror and find a bottle of full-coverage concealer in her hands.

“How did that get in there?”

“I put it in there last week after you had to spend the whole day adjusting your shirt around your collar bones to hide more of these.” She gives a vague gesture to the marks on my neck and begins applying the makeup.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“And you are unbelievable. That was literally last week, and you’re already marked up again. Don’t you and Charlie ever just make love? Does it always have to be ‘ravage one another’s body’?”

“I mean, occasionally. I don’t know, sweet and tender isn’t really our thing.”

“Clearly.” Savannah steps back to survey her work, “Okay, you’re covered but be careful because I didn’t pack setting spray.”

“I am forever indebted to you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. It’s Owen that you should pray doesn’t notice.”

“God, you’re right.”

“If I were solely judging by his hair, I’d have guessed you guys went at it this morning and not last night.”

“Shit, he’s probably marked up, too.”

“Well, I didn’t bring him concealer, and you two are not the same shade soooo… sorry.” I shake my head dismissively as I hold the bathroom door open for her behind me.

“Better him than me.”

“How was it though? You told me you’d text me updates.”

“Yeah, and then I didn’t set an alarm. But no, it was… so good. I’m like, sore.”

“Okay, we’re entering TMI territory so let’s find something to talk about before we’re back within earshot.”

“What are your Valentine’s plans for the rest of the day?”

“I might get frozen yogurt and watch a movie, haven’t really decided. I would ask what you and Charlie are doing, but based on this morning, I think I can guess.”

Just as Savannah and I did, the two boys fall silent once we approach the table; when the four of us are settled, I take a quick glance over the menu, as if I’m unsure of what I want.

“Okay, in the spirit of St. Valentine, let’s talk love. Tell us about your first kiss, Y/n.” Savannah eyes me, already knowing the horrendous story. I deadpan,

“No.”

“Wait, I’m actually curious. I don’t think I know this story.” Charlie leans forward in his seat, placing his forearms on the table in front of him.

“See what you’ve done?” Savannah merely shrugs and takes a smug sip from her water glass. “No, I’m not doing this. Why don’t you tell us about your first kiss, Sav?”

“I asked you first.”

“Fine, be that way. Charlie, tell us about your first kiss.”

“Well, I don’t know I-”

“Come on, what’s ‘love-master’ Charlie’s origin story?” Owen teasingly pats Charlie on the back, and the four of us all fall under a shocked silence at the sound of Charlie hissing in pain. My lips part in surprise but quickly press shut in a moment’s realization.

“You okay?” Don’t do it, Owen.

“Yeah, I’m fine just-”

“Oh my god.” Upon patting Charlie’s back, the fabric of his shirt moved out of the way to reveal a conglomerate of scratches across the surface of his sun-kissed skin. Owen laughs out in disbelief before poking one of the scratches again, causing Charlie to smack his hand away.

“Holy shit, did you get mauled by a bear?” Owen then gasps in a realization that I’d pray he wouldn’t have, and he begins to laugh even harder. “That good, huh Y/n?” My face heats up a million degrees and I cover my face with one hand as a desperate defense mechanism.

“It’s not a big deal, Owen.” Thank god, Savannah’s come to the rescue. “They just got a head start on Valentine’s Day is all.”

“Okay, can we please change the subject?” I plead as I’ve already had enough of their laughter. Charlie gives me a look that is both apologetic and embarrassed and I let out an exaggerated sigh as a response.

The rest of our brunch date is still a good time minus the occasional interjectory joke about my and Charlie’s romantic all-day-affair yesterday. Our foursome disassembles, already planning the next group outing post-Valentine’s intimacy.

“That was absolutely humiliating,” I state, buckling my seatbelt in the passenger's side as Charlie begins pulling out of the parking spot.

“You want me to be gentler next time?” Charlie asks sincerely and extends his right hand over the center console to rub a comforting circle on top of my thigh over the fabric of my jeans. The gesture pulls the warmth in my heart and the butterflies in my stomach a little lower.

“...No,” I admit shyly. The confession elicits a small, cocky chuckle from Charlie. He then gives me an affirming squeeze before tracing the seam along my inner thigh in a way that is too sensual to mistake his intentions.

The entire car ride home, the feeling of Charlie’s fingertips ghosting up my leg makes my heart beat a little faster and ignites a subtle heat where I wish he’d trail his hand up to. I’m sure my desire is apparent to Charlie but he doesn’t say anything about it. When we get back to our home, I stick the key in the lock and open the front door but freeze as I feel Charlie pressing into my entire backside. He leans down to playfully bite part of my earlobe as his hands come to rest on my hips.

“You said you didn’t want me to be gentle?” All of my senses are clouded by dense arousal so all I can do is nod. He airily laughs, a warm breath dusting the surface of my skin and I shudder involuntarily. “Go inside.”

After closing the door behind us, Charlie shoves me up against it, his hand behind my head to prevent me from actually getting hurt. He kisses my lips forcefully but doesn’t linger, and instead trails down the column of my throat. The kisses are rough in between small bites of affection, surely leaving more marks that I’ll have to wake up early to cover tomorrow. Or just not go anywhere. After this, it’s looking like the latter.

“You want me to rough you up a little bit? Huh?”

“Yes.” The love bites Charlie’s leaving behind become harsher on my skin, as he trails further down my neck, across my collarbones. “Charlie, can we…?”

“Can we what? Tell me what you want.”

“Please-“

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Please, fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command.” And with that Charlie pulls me into the bedroom, stealing kisses in between steps. Charlie moves to sit me on the bed but as he grabs me by the hips, I maneuver to switch places and push him down onto the bed. He looks at me with a mix of surprise and excitement, taking the hand that pushed him between his own. I smile delicately when Charlie presses a gentle kiss to my knuckles. That is the last trace of softness.

The two of us begin stripping out of our brunch clothes as fast as we can. It’s as if we’re running out of time. We’re both almost fully naked but before I can get my panties off Charlie’s lips are back on mine. His movements are swift, kiss after kiss is filled with an unrivaled lust that is glorious.

Crawling onto the bed, Charlie stays close behind, never allowing any loss of contact between us. I recover to a sitting position and Charlie wraps his arm under my stomach and presses a line of kisses across my shoulder blades.

“Can I take you like this?” He asks earnestly, running his hands over the vast expanse of my bare skin. I choke out a desperate plea and my breathing softens once I feel the absence of Charlie’s touch on my body. When I turn around I see him searching the room like a madman.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t find any more condoms. I think we used them all last night.”

“What? We only used three.”

“I don’t know! Maybe I dropped some?”

“Fuck it. Charlie if I’m not getting absolutely rawed in the next ten seconds I will walk out that door.” He doesn’t need any more encouragement than that and is back on the bed. Charlie grabs both sides of my face to bring me in for a long passionate kiss before taking his place behind me. His warm hands fall from my face to my waist, gripping the skin slightly.

Charlie sits back on his heels and moves my body back to hover over his. He runs a sensual path with his fingers down the sides of my body and slips one down through the growing wetness between my legs. Tracing the arousal over my quivering clit. The anticipation of the moment has heightened my sensitivity and as a result, I let out a whine. My whimpering continues when I feel him run the tip of his erection through the wetness. As I open my mouth to nag him for moving so slow, Charlie slams his entire length inside of me at once, causing me to cry out in pleasure. I can tell it feels incredible for him too by the way he’s gripping my hips. If he didn’t leave bruises yesterday, he definitely will today.

It doesn’t take long for him to figure out a tempo that’s comfortable for the both of us and my labored panting fills the room. Charlie lets out a groan followed by a laugh because we could both feel the physical reaction I had to the noise he had let out. Wrapping his right arm across my stomach, Charlie reaches the left up to grab my tits, and roughly bite another hickey on my shoulder. He uses his right arm to pull my body into his own torso, and shifting his hips he makes a few adjustments. Charlie shifts one more time and when he thrusts back into me I cry out so loud surely our neighbors will put in a noise complaint.

“There we go,” he grunts to himself, but our proximity allows me to hear. Repeatedly thrusting into that spot, my eyes flutter closed in pleasure. Charlie resumes leaving harsh, lingering kisses, and love bites down the side of my neck, moaning into them in ecstasy. As I feel my heat begin to pulse, Charlie knows I’m close and tries to grab my attention.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” I will my eyes open and turn to look. The pleasure of his movements is so overwhelming that in between moans and shallow breaths, I find myself leaning my head back to rest on his bare shoulder. “I want you to look at me as you come undone.”

“Okay.” I swallow hard from how dry my mouth is from panting so hard for so long. Each next thrust is measured and the sound of our labored breathing and pleasured moans fill the electrified air.

“Charlie.”

“I’m close. Where do you want-”

“Just stay inside.”

“You sure?” Before I can give a coherent response my orgasm tears through me like a wildfire. I’m doing my best not to scream and what comes out is a mix between a strangled cry and a deep, guttural groan. Adding to my ecstasy, Charlie reaches down to trace tiny circles over my clit and I feel tears of overstimulation prick the length of my lower lash line. While Charlie fucks me through my high, I feel his movements stutter and the familiar twitch before he relaxes his hold on my body. The two of us collapse back onto the bed in a symphony of gasps and bliss-fueled laughter.

“Happy Valentine's Day,” he says behind a smile.

“I love you. That was the first time I’ve forgone condoms…” I state to the ceiling in a moment’s realization, “How do I get this out of me?”

***

A/n: I really am so sorry about the slow churn of writing. I’ve gotten busy with classes and though I knew this was coming I’m still upset that I can’t spend more time writing. On top of that being in a block has been really rough but it’ll pass with time I hope :)

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13​ @kaitlyn2907​ @itz-jas​ @crybabyddl​ @kcd15​ @kinda-really-lost​ @calamitykaty​ @morganayennefertyrell​ @n0wornever​ @dream-a-little-bigger-x​ @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys​ @amazinggracy​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @ghostlygreenbean​ @juliefromaustralia @merceret​ @jemimah-b99​ @ifilwtmfc​ @thesweetestsinner​ @imsydneywalker​ @lovesanimals​ @thebloodthirstyvampress​ @bumbleberry-pie​ @losers-club6​ @tefilovesreading​ @dmcfarland1​@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz​ @talk-on-the-street​ @phantompogues​ @konciousdreamer​ @sunsetcurvej​ @warmnesss0ul​

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖

Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!

this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that

tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)

---

“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.

“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”

“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”

“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”

Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.

Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”

“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”

“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”

“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 

“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”

Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 

The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.”

Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.

---

“I want this one, please, Ves.”

“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 

“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.

“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”

“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 

“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.

“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 

“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.

“Hmm.”

“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”

“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”

---

“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”

“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”

“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”

“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”

“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”

“Holy shit.”

“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”

“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”

---

“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”

“Oh, uh- thanks!”

“Yup.”

And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-

“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”

“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”

“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”

“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”

Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”

“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”

Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”

“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”

“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”

“Not… not really.”

“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”

“Versace!?” 

Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.

---

“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.

“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 

“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 

“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 

“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-

Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.

Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 

“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”

“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”

“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”

“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”

“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”

“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”

Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 

Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.

“Oh, wow.”

“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”

“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”

“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”

“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”

“They’re not exactly subtle.”

“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”

Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”

“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 

“No.”

“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”

“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.

---

“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.

“Nice,” he says.

Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”

“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.

“Uh… I- Thank you?”

“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”

“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”

“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”

The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 

Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 

“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”

“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”

“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 

“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”

“Sorry, Pierre!”

“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”

“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 

“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.

“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”

“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”

“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”

---

Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.

Okay, focus. 

He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 

Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”

He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.

“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”

“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.

“Are you, really?”

“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”

“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”

“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”

“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”

“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”

“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 

“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”

“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 

“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”

“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”

Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 

“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”

“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 

Vesemir makes a phone call.

---

2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen

---

“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”

“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”

“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 

“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”

“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”

“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”

“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”

“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 

Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”

“Geralt!”

Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 

“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”

“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”

“Do you… do you not want me he-”

Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 

He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”

“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”

[ladyhearthkeeper]

How to welcome people in your home

One of the joy of having a nice and cosy home is to receive your loved ones in it.

I would like to share some ideas and tips from how we entertain in my home.These just tips, not guidelines. Do what feels right to you and how things are done in your part of the world. Inviting people over shouldn’t be a chore, an awkward moment but something you do from your heart.

The first step is inviting your guest(s). This process is straight forward but there are a few things to keep in mind. If you’re inviting more than one person, make sure they are compatible. Some people enjoy talking to people who have different views, some don’t. Some people love to meet new people, others don’t. Your main goal is to entertain your guest and make them have a nice time so think about what them. Of course, it’s your home so don’t invite people you don’t like.

Invite them at least a week before (depending on your level of intimacy). If you want to be even more thorough, ask them when they will be available and if it suits your own free time, you have a date!

Are you inviting them for a morning coffee? A lunch? Tea? Dinner? etc. Be specific. Is it a family event? A couple invitation or just amongst women? Don’t make them guess, be specific. You can say it in a polite and gentle way “This time it’s only us girls“ “I thought it was better to only have adults so that we can have some conversation” Etc.

Once you know who’s coming, when and for what... Time to plan your menu. It doesn’t have to be rigid but it’s good to have something to fall back on if you lose inspiration.

Now, that’s the time to ask your guests about food allergies or religious and ideological restrictions. Better to ask rather than having a disaster and not honouring your guests. Plan to make more than enough. Leftovers can always be given to neighbours, frozen or make an excellent meal for the next day.

Now when the actual invitation is looming ahead, be organized according to your other responsibilities. Some dishes can be prepared ahead, so don’t hesitate doing it. You want to be as fresh and welcoming as you can be on the actual day. The same applies for cleaning your home and making sure the (guest) bathroom is properly supplied for. I clean my home once a week so it’s relatively clean most of the time. However, if you have small children you might not have this luxury. Do it one day ahead or do the cooking one day before and tidying up on the day of the party.

It’s lovely to be ushered in a nice smelling house. So either use some scented candles or incense to make your home smell special. Candles are also lovely to give a cosy ambiance, if there are no kids involved. Some electrical candles look so real they could do the trick.

Set your table in a nice way with matching tablecloth and napkins. Buffet are also ok but I find them awkward for guests and less exquisite and special.  Make sure everything is clean : cutlery , glass, plates etc. If you are going to serve two courses, make sure you have an extra quarter plate inside the bigger one. But you don’t necessarily have to have two courses. Before your guests arrive, think ahead about your seating chart (even for 3 people!)  for better conversation, comfort etc.

Be sure that everything is set, and you are dressed at least 15 minutes before. So that you can be relaxed but also you can add some finishing touches. Make sure you have a vase handy in case someone bring flowers but don’t count on it and have your own flowers for that extra touch.

When they arrive, invite them in and welcome them warmly. It’s best to first make them sit in the living room (if you have one!) so that you can finish setting the warm dishes without having them in your way.

Depending on your culture or habits, you may want to serve them some kind of drink (fresh lemonade if it’s hot!!! or a warming tea) and some nuts or crackers to crunch on,especially if it’s a dinner invitation and some of the guests are coming straight from work.

Don’t forget to have enough water and sparking water around the dinner table. Bring most of the warm dishes to the table while they are still in the living area so that you won’t have to lean over them to place the dishes.

When you are inviting them to the table, invite each guest to his seat.

Now, depending on the size of your table and the number of guests. Make sure that everyone has access to the dishes, either by passing them around or by have two of each.

As people eat, keep the conversation light but interesting. Keep everyone involved but don’t insist. These are your loved ones so you know which subject to avoid and which subject would make everyone talk without getting into an argument.  Most of the time, you won’t need to keep the conversation going as your guests will be enjoying themselves.

Background music isn’t always a great idea. It might make people speak louder or distract some people who cannot focus. But it depends on your style and mood. I find that the less we have technological disturbance, the better the party goes. You can’t stop people from keeping their phone around them but you can keep yours away to be focused on your guests (unless one of them is late and might be in need of assistance.)

I can give more detailed advice for evening parties as opposed to a tea parties etc.  And if you have specific questions, do ask and I can try to answer.

These are general tips.  And I would love to hear yours!!

[solari-writes-things]

Bombshell

!! revamped !!

Solari Says: I am slowly picking at remastering the old prompts from my previous blog, since the remainder of my requests are mostly smut and that just isn’t the way to go right now. OC is my own.

Imagine: OC telling Happy she’s pregnant.

Happy Lowman x OC

WARNINGS: Language

translations below

gif isn’t mine, credited below!

SoA tag list: @thebookishfeminist​ | @sazafraz​​ | @crimsonheart01​​ | @kind-wolf​ @tsumethedrifter​ |​ @chibsytelford​​ | @supervalcsi​​ (To be added to the tag list, please message me, or comment below!)

REQUESTS CLOSED

Yvonne could feel her stomach turning as she remained seated in the bathroom of Diosa Norte, refraining from doing anything that could push her further into the panic that was beginning to boil up in the pit of her stomach. The last few weeks had remained chaotic for SAMCRO, and they were showing no signs of slowing down.

So learning this newfound information, presented to her by the double lines painted on the small window of the pregnancy test, was something that sent her mind into spirals.

It wasn’t that she was afraid of bringing up a child in this sort of situation. It was more of the uncertainty she felt on her own accord. She wasn’t sure if she would be a viable mother, or if Happy had even taken any interest in having a kid.

She lets out a shaky breath, beginning the process of properly cleaning up after herself. Once she does, she spins the toilet paper roll around the test carefully so she could throw it away. Standing and flushing the toilet, she tosses the pregnancy test in the trash sitting in the corner of the room before washing her hands.

She looked at herself in the mirror while doing so, checking her features to make sure she didn’t look disheveled before heading back out to her job. She exhales once more, so her breathing could even out. She feels her erratic heart rate begin to slow, taking that as the sign to turn off the water and dry her hands off.

She looks down at herself, fixing the red form-fitting dress that she donned. She gives herself a quick once over once the immediate signs of negativity were smoothed out, nodding to herself before opening the restroom door and joining the rest of the girls out on the main floor.

She puts on her best grin, greeting a gentleman who had pushed inside of the building and handed him a drink menu so he wouldn’t have to traverse to the bar that was partially full. She doesn’t take notice to her uncle Nero, who had walked up to join her for a moment before he had to go finish more paperwork.

“¿Todo bien, mija?” he asked her, which causes her to startle and spin around quickly.

When she realized it was just him, she pressed a hand over her chest to ensure that her heart wouldn’t jump out. “Después de experimentar insuficiencia cardíaca.”

Nero smiles at that notion, holding up both of his hands. “Lo siento. But really. Is everything alright with you?”

Von dropped her hand once she felt her heart rate even. “That’s a debatable question, Nero. What’s up?”

“Cause you been ojos saltones since you came from your trip from the baño,” he told her, his tone simple. “You know you can talk to me about shit, right?”

Von purses her lips and averts her eyes for a split second, before connecting once more to Nero. “I... could run something by you really quick.”

Nero nods his head and curls his forearm up so his hand was in front of him. He waves his fingers to gesture Yvonne to follow him, and when she joined him at his side he slung an arm around her shoulders.

Immediately, Yvonne could feel the familial comfort creep through her system as they stepped through the crowded room and into the empty Diosa Norte kitchen. She felt a twinge of sadness when he dropped his arm, in much need of that sort of comfort at the moment. He spun himself around so he was looking at her, leaning back against a stable surface and crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m pregnant,” she immediately spilled, now that she was out of earshot of anyone else who had been on staff.

Nero seemed to shake his head a bit in shock, blinking his eyes at her. “Wait, wait, wait. ¿Embarazada? That was definitely something I wasn’t expecting to hear out of you.”

Von let out a nervous chuckle, folding her arms over her chest as she felt herself grow a bit smaller the longer the word sat in the air between them. “Yeah... It wasn’t something I expected out of myself, really.”

“Does Happy know?” he questioned. “Or was that the trip you made in the bathroom?”

“That was the trip,” Yvonne stated, one of her arms coming up and touching the spade tattoo that sat at the side of her neck. “I have no fucking clue how to tell him, tío. I don’t even think he wanted to have a kid in the first place.”

“Have you had that conversation with him?” Nero inquired, hands still folded over his chest.

Von doesn’t entertain with a verbal answer, just a quick shake of her head.

“Then that’s something you two have to figure out, no? Talk it over, mija, Happy’s not nonsensical,” he says, giving her an assuring smile.

That sort of comment held a lot of merit to Yvonne. Considering her upbringing, and Nero’s talent of seeing people for who they really were, she held his opinion highly. So when he seemed so relaxed about something that seemed so grave to her, it caused her to calm just a bit. She nods her head, turning her head to the entrance of the hall that led to the kitchen when she heard the boys sounding off in the distance.

SAMCRO had stepped into the building. Happy had to be with them, considering she was on shift today.

She turns to Nero once more, offering him a nervous but kind smile. “Thanks, Uncle. I’ll let you know what happens, okay?”

Nero observes her expression once again, trying to ensure that she was okay without pressing too much further. He nods his head after a couple seconds of silence, pushing himself straight before moving out of the kitchen to go grab Happy.

She could hear Nero speak, telling Happy that she was sitting in the kitchen. No details, just the basics.

She had been hoping she would remain calm when Hap had turned the corner, but her heart had other plans. It practically leaped out of her chest when he turned the corner, giving her a half smile as he approached.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted simply, placing a gentle hand at her waist and connecting a kiss to her forehead.

She smiles a bit at the intimacy, chuckling. “You guys alright?”

“No one shot or blown up today. New record,” he stated simply, causing her to roll her eyes.

After the couple seconds of lighthearted joking, she licks her lips a bit to mentally prep herself for the conversation she was about to have with him. “Hey.. can we talk really quick?”

“Yeah,” he says, looking down at her. “Everythin’ okay?”

She nods her head, averting her eyes down after a couple seconds of holding his stare. “I... I’m fuckin’ pregnant, Happy.”

She could only grow more nervous as she read his eyes. His expression never moved physically, but he was sorting out his own head. She could read it easily. After all, she was one of the few who could really understand Happy, and that was one of the reasons he got together with her.

One second turned into four, the growing anxiety boiling up within her the longer he sat in silence. When he opened his mouth to speak, she could feel herself almost lurch forward to hear what he would say.

“So what are we going to do?” he asked simply, eyeing her with a serious expression. “We have to consider our options here, Von.”

Von nodded her head in response, immediately agreeing with what he had to say. He was right, they had to consider every possible option. Bringing up a child with a life such as theirs would be strange. Granted, the adjustment could be made. But they both had to express comfort toward that very idea.

“Do you want this kid in your life, Hap?” she asked seriously. “We never fucking talked about having a kid, Hap. So whatever you decide, we can talk about.”

“I don’t mind raisin’ a kid, Von. It’s up to you on what you want to do. You’re the one carryin’,” he says.

“I know I am, but... I need to make sure you agree with whatever fucking choice I make here, Happy. I can’t be the one to make the ultimate decision, not unless I know you have my back.”

He reaches his tattooed arms up, clasping her face in between the palms of his hands and made her look up at him. His eyes bore into hers, so she could understand the gravity of the words he spoke.

“Yvonne, I will support you in whatever fuckin’ choice you make. I am okay with raising a kid, if you decide to keep it. If you decide you want to, I will talk that choice with you. Whatever you do, I am here. As I’ve always been.”

The words seem to sink in slowly, and Yvonne closed her eyes as she relaxed into his palms. She reached her hand up, grazing her fingertips gently across the skin of his hand, before inhaling slowly to calm herself. She almost felt stupid for panicking as much as she had. Of course, Happy would support her in her choices. He always had, and she was sure he always would. 

Especially for times such as these.

So she opens her eyes, connecting her eyes with his once more. His stern expression never changed, as he waited patiently for her answer. He was always so patient with her, and she was thankful for it.

“I think we should keep the baby, Happy. We can make the adjustments as needed. I know we can do this, because no matter what’s thrown at us, we always make it through in one piece,” she says, her tone much more confident than it had been before.

His expression finally moves, a small half-smile pulling at the corner of his mouth once she realizes she’s regained her confidence. “You’re damn right. It ain’t changin’ now.”

Translations:

Todo bien - Everything okay?

Después de experimentar insuficiencia cardíaca - after I experience heart failure

Lo siento - Sorry

ojos saltones - Big eyes, bug-eyed, doe-eyed

baño - bathroom

¿Embarazada? - Pregnant?

tío - uncle

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Order 23 Job

leverage 2.03

Nate: Nobody wants to see this guy just get a slap on the wrist, Ronald, I mean, but killing him? He's a thief, not a murder.

literally !!! this !!!

I’m not even going to go into current events but no matter what someone has done, ESPECIALLY if they haven’t had a trial yet they do NOT deserve to be killed or murdered or anyone (side eyes the US police system). I said what I said.

- - - - -

Ronald: He was smart, responsible, and Armenian, like us.

Nate: Yeah, well, they call these affinity crimes, people who prey on fellow members of ethnic groups

- - - - -

Hardison: Eddie's new address in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, is the original "Club Fed".

Eliot: He's got his own nine-hole golf course. Vegan menu.

Hardison: This dude can play Frisbee with the guys from Enron in the quadrangle.

Eliot: I hate those guys. 18 months in a country club, this guy.

Parker: Yeah, and then when he gets done, he gets to come home and collect his hidden cash

we love to see the ot3 angry about the same things while sitting close together

+ eliot is wearing a flannel in this one

- - - - -

parker doing a happy dance in the vents when she knocks the guy out

- - - - -

(Hardison unpacks computer monitors and sets up a workstation while a video feed of Parker making the bed plays on a laptop. Hardison plays audio sounds on the laptop)

Nate: Hey.

Hardison: Hey. I put speakers in Eddie's room and every 3 feet down the hallway. So if you want to hear footsteps coming toward you, you slide the cursor this way. (demonstrates) And walking away, this way. I made you a master audio file with all the stuff we recorded, plus the sound effects. You mix them any way you want. You're the dj

that’s actually really smart

- - - - -

Parker: All right, well, here's the stuff from the van plus almost everything from the list. (opens a bag) And by the way, nurses haven't worn skirts with white stockings since the '70s. Sorry.

(hardison and eliot share a look)

dumb idiot boys that think it’d be funny to see their future gf in an old nurse uniform

- - - - -

Hardison: If you don't give me that shirt--

Eliot: Listen to me, son, you need those fingers to type on your little keyboard, don't you?

Hardison: So you know, a bully is just a cowboy with low self-esteem.

Eliot: What was that, now?

Hardison: I said what?

Eliot: My insecure ass is gonna be wearing this shirt

- - - - -

Parker: You're not claustrophobic, are you, Mr. Maranjian? (pushes him down the hall, leaning down to whisper in his ear) Because you've got nothing to be afraid of.

I LOVE IT WHEN SHE FUCKS WITH PEOPLE

- - - - -

(Eliot stops to look at the boy, who looks up at him with tears in his eyes)

Hardison: So, say I mention "The Search for Spock", what do you do?

Eliot: I don't have a TV.

Hardison: Everybody has TVs. Dead people have TVs. Damn it.

(Hardison walks away, but Eliot remains, looking at the boy and his father)

- - - - -

Nate: See, y-you tell someone they have a bunch of symptoms and the information gets processed in the executive center of the brain, right? It's job is to question assumptions, start an argument. But if you suggest symptoms, you can bypass all that.

Parker: Like subliminal advertising?

Nate: It's actually neurolinguistic programming, you know, the gateway to the amygdala, which is the fear center of the brain. You asked what we're selling. That's-- that's what we're selling.

Parker: So we're selling...

Nate: Fear.

Parker: Oh. Fear.

Nate: Yeah.

Parker: Cool.

Nate: Yeah

- - - - -

Parker (looking at monitor): Wait, his nose. Is that...

Nate: real blood?

Eddie: I'm-- I'm bleeding! I'm bleeding!

Nate: Yes. Yes, it is.

Eddie: Hello?! Can anyone hear me?! Please!

Parker: Did you just give a guy a nosebleed with the power of your mind?

Nate: Amygdala mania. Hmm. Almond tonsils.

Parker: Is it just me, or has Nate gotten a little sadistic since he quit drinking?

Sophie: Is it just me, or does that make him even more attractive

- - - - -

Hardison: Eliot, can you talk? What's Charlie doing?

[Hallway]

Eliot: I haven't gotten there yet. (looks into room with Trent and his son)

Hardison: No wonder I couldn't hear you on my coms. Eliot, stop checking out the nurses and get your ass down to Charlie!

Eliot: I'm on my way, all right? Shut up.

(Eliot takes out his earbud and walks into the exam room to Trent)

Eliot: Excuse me, sir. Can I talk to you for a second, please

eliot cares SO MUCH

- - - - -

(Eliot grabs Trent’s arm and bends him over the railing)

Eliot: That bruise on his cheek's a week old. The one on his neck is three days. He get that falling, too?

Trent: You don't believe me? Ask him.

Eliot: Why, huh? So I can hear how well his daddy taught him to lie?

Trent: If you're gonna arrest me, go ahead. I'll be out in five minutes.

Eliot: I ain't gonna arrest you.

(Eliot nearly throws Trent over the railing letting him dangle for a moment before throwing him back against the wall. He opens Trent’s wallet and looks at his license)

Eliot: Randall Trent, 73 Austin Street. (puts wallet in his pocket) I got my eye on you now.

Trent: How many guys don't even see their kids? I bet this place is full of deadbeat dads. But a man who provides for his family, who shows his son a firm hand, he's the bad guy? Go back to your speed traps.

(Trent leaves the stairwell. Eliot looks pissed)

eliot is SO ANGRY I love my kind-hearted man

also high key I really thinks this gives an insight as to what his childhood was like

like,,, he saw the signs RIGHT AWAY. he was primed to notice them. he saw right through any act that man would have pulled because he saw what was truly going on, and things like that hit harder and closer when they’ve happened to you or someone in your life

- - - - -

Sophie: You know, I once had to play six parts in "Nicholas Nickleby" and Mrs. Squeers and Phib had a bloody song together.

- - - - -

on today’s edition of non-weapons-that-eliot-uses-as-weapons, we have eliot using the morgue body cabinet doors and a gross morgue body part (?) bowl

- - - - -

(Eliot puts Charlie on top of one of the bodies in the drawers and closes him inside before putting his earbud back in)

Hardison: You think you can just ignore me, like I don't have any feelings, like I never sat there, never listened to you talk all night about tryin--

Eliot: Hardison, have you been talking the whole time?

Hardison: I wouldn't have had to if you didn't turn off your daggum com

hardison worries about eliot and gets angry when he takes his coms out because he cares

- - - - -

Hardison: Oh, man. Come on.

(Hardison moves to tug Eliot before he heads off. Eliot looks from the boy to the police coming into the hospital before entering the boy’s room and pulling the curtain)

Eliot: Hey. How's the arm, my man?

Randy: It's okay.

Eliot: Yeah? My name's Eliot. What's your name?

(police officers continue to move through the hallways)

Randy: Randy.

Eliot: Randy. Oh, I like that name. (sits on bed) I got an uncle named Randy. There sure are a lot of cops around here, huh? You know, if you wanted, you could go up to one and tell them what happened to your arm. Hey, Randy. You don't have to be afraid anymore.

Randy: Dad knows these cops, you know? They come to my house. They'll drink beer. I mean… I can't

this is so, so sad but also hardison’s casual touching and intimacy with eliot gives me life

- - - - -

this is the one episode parker is tased and not the one doing the tasing

- - - - -

okay but wHO ACTUALLY, IN REAL LIFE, LEAVES THEIR KEYS IN THEIR UNLOCKED CAR

- - - - -

PARKER USED ELIOTS PUNCHING TACTICS (from the last episode) TO KNOCK THEIR MARK OUT

- - - - -

(Eddie uses the stunner to knock Parker out. As soon as he moves away, she gets up, lifting her shirt to show a vest)

hmmm I wonder what type of vest she used to block the electric shock ???

- - - - -

(team walks out of the courthouse and heads down the stairs)

Nate: So, here's everything you need to know about criminal law. Every crime has two elements, Actus reus, the act itself, and mens rea, Literally "The Guilty Mind."

Hardison: Wait. Now you're a doctor and a lawyer?

Nate: Yes. Now, for escape, the prisoner has to both break out of custody and show the intent to escape.

Sophie: Wait, so if, let's say, a prisoner was taken hostage during a jailbreak then he wouldn't be guilty of escape.

Nate: That's a perfect example.

Hardison: Kiss ass.

Nate: Which brings us back to our friend Eddie and how the brain reacts to fear. In the heat of the moment Eddie didn't ask himself a simple question, who would doubt his guilty mind?

- - - - -

Bob: Damn right it is. You and your partner, you're all right. I don't know how to thank you, though.

(Eliot looks at Bob for a long moment, then pulls Trent’s license from his pocket and hands it to Bob)

Eliot: Do one thing for me.

Bob: You got it.

[Exterior Apartment]

(Bob knocks on the door and Randy opens it)

Bob: Randy? I'm Deputy United States Marshal Robert Corville. I'm from Boston. I think you and I need to talk.

Trent: Who are you talking to out there? (pulls door open wider and sees Bob)

Bob: Come on.

(Randy looks at Trent then follows Bob out of the apartment)

Bob: It's all right, son. Come on. You're gonna be okay, Randy.

(Bob gives Trent one last look before moving away. From down the street, Eliot watches as Bob and Randy get into a car and drive away)

eliot watching over to make sure the kid was okay in the end? my HEART

[heli0s-writes]

VIII. Never is a Promise*

Summary: The last installment. A sweet ending for two dummies. NSFW Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader A/N: I have loved writing this! Thank you for all your support

Slow Like Honey Masterpost

Your relationship becomes a complicated affair. There are various intricacies to navigate now that school is back in session and Sarah has returned. Your schedule is identical to his daughter’s, so there isn’t a lot of time either of you have to spend alone.

It’s good, at first, because you are still wary of jumping in too quickly. But then by the end of the first week, you can’t help but crave the physical intimacy a relationship provides, especially now that you have it once more.  

In the afternoons that Steve comes to pick Sarah up, he looks at you with a smile at your cone before he pulls away. You keep him at arm’s length to separate your personal and professional life, and to not confuse Sarah. As far as she knows, you and Steve are friends; you don’t spend the night, and he doesn’t kiss you goodbye.

If she were ever to come to school and announce that you stayed the night in her father’s room, you’d probably fire yourself.

So, your weeknights are spent at your apartment, texting, calling briefly, pining for each other even though he’s only a 15-minute car ride away.  

Weekends are spent at the park or movies, trips to the children’s museum, and then making dinner together. He brushes up against your elbow while you wash vegetables, noses your shoulder when Sarah turns around. Once, when you were both sure Sarah had fallen asleep, you sneaked over to him on the couch, but then she called out from her room and you scrambled off. You haven’t been brave enough to let him try again.

At the end of the second week, you’re wound so tightly, you feel like you could spring loose any second.

Friday comes to an end and you are organizing the mess your classroom has become during the week and pulling out the necessary items for the next one. There are handfuls of manipulatives to be sorted, folders to be organized, crayons to pick up, and inexplicable smudges found in all sorts of places. Damn it, how do they do this?

A knock on your door draws your attention away from the frustrating state of your desk. Looking up, you see Steve leaning against the doorframe, fingers on the handle as he peeks in coyly.  

“Hey, you,” he calls, and your heart swells in your chest at the sight of him before it speeds up, panicked.

“What are you doing here?” You ask quickly, motioning for him to come in and shut the door. “You shouldn’t be here! Where’s Sarah?”

“She’s spending the night at a friend’s house… I wanted to surprise you.” He closes the door with a quiet click just in time as the teacher down the hall shoots you a goodbye, voice echoing. “Wanna go to dinner?”

Wordlessly, he begins to clear the clutter from your desk, placing them neatly on the shelves before he returns to stand with his hip against the frame. Suddenly, the urgency of cleaning slithers away. Stacking your papers and zipping up your bag, you laugh, “Is that your way of asking me on a date?”

He takes the bag from you and slings it over his shoulder. On you, it looks comically large. On him, quite the opposite; he looks like Billy Madison going back to first grade. “Depends… is that your way of saying yes?”

--

Dinner is casual at a greasy little diner you have been craving for. It’s a mom-n-pop kind of place, old booths and ripped cushions, unassuming hole-in-the-wall near the edge of downtown where every menu item is a hit. The burger is so stuffed it slides right out of your hands and you have to hold it upside down for a good bite—a trick you learned from a student. Steve crunches on golden tater tots and you suck on mouthfuls of thick strawberry milkshake.  

“So— youch! Good! Cold! Uuuuugh…” You mumble when the brain-freeze catches you. “Wanna little?”

He laughs and leans over the table, kissing the sweet cream from your lips and leaving behind a warm impression of his mouth. It tingles all over your tongue and rushes to every inch of your face. “Yum. Very good, baby.” Steve says with a smirk as he rubs his thumb over his bottom lip.

You roll your eyes, “Alright, Steve,” You can play this game, “I feel like you’re sending me lots of hints. Should we knock out a quickie in the men’s room?” Your resolve is weak, and you burst out into laughter at the thought of two adults going at it in a dingy old tiled restroom.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, but he stops to squint at you, “Don’t tease me, I’ll do it; I’ll do you.”

Jesus Christ in heaven, your stomach is either aching from laughing too much, eating too much, or because Steve is staring at you like he could devour you whole—and because he just said he would do you—like he might be eighteen and head over heels in love.

“Can we—”

Like a repeat of the first night you spent at his house, you’re already packed up with your purse over your shoulder, and way ahead of him. You’re out the door and halfway into your car before Steve catches up.

“This time,” You breathe, “You’re staying the night with me.”  

-

Suffice to say you’ve been daydreaming about this moment almost every day for the past seemingly endless few weeks. Steve seems to be more desperate, even calling you on the short drive back just to tell you how excited he is, how he’s been so good, waiting to be with you again.  

You make him hang up because it’s still twenty minutes away and you joke that you can’t spend another second listening to dirty talk.  

“I’m excited, too.” You admit, and the groan he sends on the other line is enough to make your thighs clench.

He’s almost bouncing by the time you reach your door, chewing on his lip and staring at you intently. You warn him that you have neighbors and he needs to calm down, but it falls on deaf ears as he only smiles wider.

And then, his hands are scooping you up, his foot kicking the door closed, and he drops you on the couch without another word, palming your arms and waist and falling to his knees. His beard rubs against your calf as he finds his way up your legs, hand sliding beneath your skirt to squeeze the inside of your thighs.

“Steve,” you stutter, “Let me wash up and get out of my work clothes, at least.”

“Uh-uh. Can’t wait.” Your skirt is rucked up, bunching around your hips while he unbuckles his belt, the faint clink of its metal registering in your ears. “Gotta get this off you.” His undressing is left unattended as he fumbles to yank your zipper down.

He doesn’t know what he wants to do first; it’s only three minutes in but he wants all of it—of you— right now. His head is empty, foggy, yet so full of possibilities.  

Steve latches his mouth to yours, slips his tongue in, slides off your skirt and blouse, breaking away for just a second to pull it off your head. “Bed.” He commands, and then picks you up again while you giggle in his arms.

The bedroom is glowing with Christmas lights, something he has always found a little endearing and so perfectly you. Tonight, their colors shimmer and warm your skin, turns you rosy and ethereal in the darkness, a flower unfurling under his heated gaze. He tugs the collar of his shirt over his head and glides right out from under it before kicking off his pants.  

And then he’s crawling over to you, hot and needy, and moaning when your bodies meet. Through the thin layer of underclothes, you feel him. His eyes shine purple under the decorations, rolling back as he shifts and grinds into your center.

“Jesus...” Steve hisses, “Fuck me. You feel so good.”  

There’s nothing you can say either way, the mass of him overtakes every thought or comment. His big hands roam every inch of your body, his thigh spreads your legs apart, quickly being replaced with rubbing and eager fingers. You let him work, leaning into his touch. He leaves kisses down your sternum, yanking off the bralette before returning to each breast, flicking his tongue over your nipple. Left and right, he moves back and forth as if he’s trying to be attentive to both at the same time.  

He is everywhere, but he wants more. He pleads with obscene phrases, whines with intimate oaths, mouthfuls of expressions that nearly shock you. Steve Rogers, your returned lover, known to be so often pleasant, talks so filthy and fierce you might catch fire.

You shimmy out of your underwear, letting him have it.

“I’m gonna turn you inside out, baby.” He vows, slipping his fingers inside, pushing in knuckle deep, arm flexed straight and against you. It becomes the fixture that keeps you on earth even though it feels like you could float right up to the heavens. Weeks have passed without feeling each other, and now that you have the chance, your body demands him.

You want to touch him, too.

Rolling him over with a bit of a struggle because Steve is stubborn like that, you press yourself flat against his chest, wiggle your hips over his, let him slide between your thighs. With one hand over your back, you grip him from behind and rub him until he’s slick.

This is as much foreplay as either of you will get— you’re desperate and impatient for him.

“Oh fuck...” He groans, “Fuck.”

“Turn me inside out, Rogers?”

“Can’t say I have any complaints, hon-- ” The husky chuckle is cut off when you push him in, tilting your hips until he bottoms out, completely encased. His skin breaks out into goosebumps as he arches up, groaning, heavy lidded and watching you. “God, baby. You look so good.”

You had forgotten how he feels, buried like this, like he could live inside of you— stiff and big and perfect. The blood coursing through your veins burns torrid and sears into every bit, pooling slippery and wet until it’s drenching. You rock on top of him, gripping his chest and arm, back and forth and panting for breath. Steve kisses your palms and wrists, placing one hand on the small of your back and sitting up until you’re flush with your ankles crossed around his waist.

The position harkens back to your first time, months ago, the two of you blind with affection and want for each other as you fumbled around in his bed.

He is flushed under the lights, still holding tightly to your side, sliding you back and forth, hitting so deeply it almost hurts. Steve’s hands run the length of your thighs before palming your ass to pull you closer, bucking.  

“Come on.” He grunts, “Little more, honey. So fucking good.” He latches onto your neck, licks at the sensitive skin beneath your ear and makes you tremble all over. “That’s my girl.” He repeats it again when you clamp down harder. “Do you like that? Being my girl?”

“God…” you mutter, a little embarrassed because apparently that’s what does it for you. It’s something about the way he says it and the way he holds onto you like a lifeline with his strong arms.  

It’s the way it is after two weeks aching for him, knowing he is yours to have, but not having him. It’s the breaking of your will, crushed and shattered with every plunge and withdraw.

“My girl,” a smile presses into your cheek, “So good. So fucking tight for me.” You could weep with the coil in your belly twisting tightly on the edge of snapping.

“I’m—Steve— gonna— come,” you moan, nails digging into his back. The two of you melting together, clawing, mouths open, tongues touching. It’s messy, sticky, and sweaty, but the way he burns is sweet.

“Look at me,” Steve urges your fluttering eyes, peppering kisses to your jaw as he soaks in the way your lips part dreamily. “I love you so much. Come for me, baby.”

You’re done for, crying out in the warm heat of the room, seizing him by his shoulders and then down his back and pressing crescent shaped indents in his skin. He watches you shake and whimper, licking his teeth as pleasure stirs him harder. Your wrap him in pulses, make it tougher for him to wedge his way out and in, and he loves it, feeling the new sensation all the way up to his eyes.  

With a grunt and a string of expletives that might have surprised you before tonight, Steve wrenches himself out, pumps himself three, four, times and spills creamy with a gasp over your stomach and hip. “Fuck.” He hisses, “God damn.”

Everything is blushing rose, damp with the scent of your exertion and him, wet and salty on your body. The lights look like flowers dappling alien luminance, casting shadows over his open mouth. Steve kisses you, slow and silent, again and again, one hand on your spine and the other on your thigh to keep you close.

“I love you.” He breathes against your lips, “I love you. And I’m gonna keep lovin’ you, baby. Until you want me to stop, and even then, I’ll still love you.”

Your nose stings with a rush of emotion, eyes squeezing shut when your voice seeps out as a whimper, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

“Don’t break my heart, Rogers.” You plead.

With a shake of his head, Steve kisses you once more, “Never again. I promise.”  

--

His love returns in constantly cresting waves, drowning you every second with adoration and devotion and you can’t fathom how Peggy did it—how she loved something else more than him. It’s been weeks and weeks and he has shown you nothing but his goodness.

No, he’s not perfect. He’s a mess, as he’s admitted, he’s irritable and peevish at times, he dives headfirst into everything and gets himself worked up before burning out.  

But in the end, he comes back and apologizes. He’s always the first to admit his mistakes and always eager to talk it through, change, make it better, make it good again.  

You watch him flourish with his new and unwinding schedule as he finds more time to pursue his hobbies- painting, ceramics, experimenting with newer recipes and introducing them on the days he comes in. Every chance you get, you thank Sam for accepting the position. Sam thanks you back for keeping Steve out of the café.

He volunteers more at the school, too. He goes with Sarah on her field trips, takes her with him, teaches her to paint and bake and it shows when shines at school, comes out of her moods, glows again.  

Her teacher pulls you aside one day. “Thank you.” She says quietly during the end of your planning period while her students work diligently. “She’s the sweetest little thing, and… thank you.” You smile instead of answer, because you don’t feel like you did anything. But then, Christine’s mouth pulls itself tight, the corner lifting. “They’re lucky to have you.”

Slow dread sets in as you rummage around your brain, unsure of how much she knows, or how much anyone else knows. But then she looks back through the window of her class and she says goodbye with a wink. Your heart is pounding when you return to your line of kids, waiting patiently.

You run the information in your head again, paranoid the rest of the day any time a co-worker glances your way. Christine probably knows. Heather probably—definitely-- knows. She doesn’t mention it ever, because she understands your reasons, but does she mention it to other people?

Will it ultimately spread like a virus until everyone becomes infected with the knowledge that you are dating Steve Rogers?

It completely fucks with your head, rips you out of your element, and at the end of the day you’ve completely enclosed yourself in the terror that when people look at you, they see someone disreputable. You’ve even forgotten completely that it’s your birthday and Steve has asked you to come by for dinner and cake.

By the time you leave your classroom, the entire school seems to be empty. The hallways echo with your somber footsteps and you nearly jump out of your skin when your phone rings.

“Honey?” Steve asks with concern, “Where are you? It’s almost seven.”

“Oh shit! I’m so sorry… I just—I’m so--something funny kind of happened and I’m freaking out.”

“Take a breath, okay? Drive safe and let me know when you’re here. Sarah’s worried bout ya.”

“Yeah. Sorry! Tell her I’m on my way.”  

The windows are dark when you arrive, and you’re confused as to why. The house across the street is packed with cars lined up like sardines and you struggled to find a decent spot, resulting in the stressful task of parallel parking between a grey sedan and a minivan. Stupid neighborhood parties on a stupid Thursday.

“Steve?” You call from the door when you find that it’s unlocked, wandering down the hall to find the switch. “Have you turned crotchety again? The electricity bill is not that high!”

A flash of light blinds you briefly as a chorus of “Surprise! Happy Birthday!” explodes from the living room. You scream and jump backwards, dropping your purse with a clatter.

Sarah runs up and hurdles into your arms. This time, you catch her, but her bottom slips from your grasp and she continues to slide down the length of your body until she’s planted once more. “Happy Birthday!” She yells, “Did I scare you!?”  

“Yes!” You cry, staring out into the sea of your co-workers’ eyes, expectant and joyful. “What- what is everyone doing here?” For a fleeting and terrible moment, you can’t help but think god damn it everyone knows!

Your heart clobbers your ribcage as your eyes roam the room, in awe and a bit of anxiety. Crinkled streamers hang from each corner to the middle of the ceiling fan- pastel pink and ginger orange and buttery yellow, like an array of sherbet. Around the perimeter are filled up silver birthday balloons with helium and tied delicate ribbons to each.  

You don’t know what to say or do as your tongue sits uselessly inside the cavern of your dry mouth.

But then, a balmy glow from around the kitchen corner arrives and your racing heart leaps at the sight of Steve carrying the cake. Sarah bobs back and forth, clapping her hands together in anticipation.

“Happy Birthday.” He smiles behind a curtain of candles and then the room breaks out into a convivial song—twenty voices vocalizing in unison. When they stop and end the tune with scattered applause, you catch Heather wiping her eyes and Christine clapping her hand over her heart.  

The rest of the first-grade team is there, too, grinning with damp cheeks. The receptionist at the front desk who you worked with your first year. Ms. Sweetwater, Edward’s mom, other parents from last year and one from this year.  

Jesus, even the principal—Evelyn Graham-- stands, sniffling behind the sofa chair.

Sam and Marnie, crooked smiles plastered on sweetly.  

“Make a wish.” Your mind draws a blank as you stare into his face. “Candles are melting on the ganache, sweetheart. I worked real hard for that glaze.”

A sob breaks its way free from your throat, “You’re such a dummy.” You whisper to his widening grin, Sarah giggling at her father’s expense. With his chin, he urges you on, tears rolling down your face like melted candlewax. Then, slowly, because the chocolate varnish is starting to look like it might completely crust over with opaque grey speckles, you take a breath and extinguish the flames.

Cheers and whoops fill your ears and you bury your face in your palms. Steve holds the cake closer to his chest, tilts his face down to meet the top of your head, but sneaks a kiss to your cheek instead. “I’ll be right back.”

Heather touches your elbow when Steve dips away into the kitchen. With one hand on her hip, she raises her eyebrow, “Didn’t I tell ya?” She asks with a wink, making you roll your eyes dramatically. “Honey, that man is struck by you. And it is plain as day to see.”

“Guess it must be if everyone is here.” You gesture to the mingling crowd, all smiles when they glance your way.  

“The boy’s hard to miss!” Sam calls.

Evelyn approaches you with a friendly shrug, “He certainly doesn’t smile at me like that during carline.” She teases and your face turns the exact color as the raspberries that Steve brings out on top of the cake.

“Alright, who’s ready?” He asks, oblivious to the conversation surrounding him.

Thick, fluffy slices are served on cute little ceramic plates from the café and everyone collectively seems to sigh when they take the first bite. Sam sticks close to you, letting you know that the party has been in the works for the past week. Steve petitioned Heather first about the surprise and she was happy to be on-board, passing the news around your workplace covertly.

It astonishes you the way everyone is so supportive. Edward’s mom gives you a new pair of homemade earrings in the shape of croissants and you put them on straight away. Steve claps his hands together and vows that next week, Cap&Co is going to have a croissant special. It makes the whole room laugh. You’re still bashful and nervous, wringing your hands together and chewing on a soft raspberry quietly while Sarah sits on Steve’s hip, face smeared with chocolate.

People begin to leave around nine, waving goodbye and giving you hugs. Heather squeezes you by the door and pats your shoulder, “You deserve this, girl.”

Evelyn is right there behind her, “You’re a wonderful teacher. And a wonderful person. We’re all so glad to see you happy. We’ve known all along. It’s…” she laughs, “It’s been very obvious to us.”  

A part of you feels like she’s not talking entirely about your relationship—more about your ability and potential. You swell with pride and a little with embarrassment because it seems like you’ve missed the glaring truth all this time: you are cared for here. You have more than just your job and yourself—you have a whole damn community who isn’t looking to gossip and undermine.

They see you.

And Steve has brought it all to light.

Gazing back down the walkway into the dining room where he stands next to Sam, giving tips and pointers about the ganache, you shake your head with a smile. Evelyn slips out the door quietly and leaves you to your thoughts.

You’re not even aware of Sarah as she slides over to tug on your blouse playfully.

“Does this mean you can spend the night now?” She asks.

“Huh?”

“Ya know… cause you’re daddy’s girlfriend?” A cluster of giggles escapes her and she blushes head to toe as if the very word itself is something taboo.

You blush too, but shove it away as you roughly grab her by the middle and sling her onto your hip, “You know what, Sarah!” You act indignant, “Little miss smarty mouth!”

She’s screeching and thrashing in your arms, hollering laughter down the path as you stomp back to the living room and deposit her onto the couch. Sam and Steve quirk their heads over when you descend to tickle her. “You’re gonna get it!” You threaten, and she replies only with “Girlfriend! Girlfriend! You and daddy sitting in a tree! K-I-S—”

You shriek and smother her with a cushion. This child will be the death of you, you swear it.

“Are you killin’ my kid?” Steve asks from the dining room.

“No.” You say calmly, “Just, a friendly game of put-the-pillow-on-Sarah’s-face.”  

She resurfaces to continue the song and you smother yourself with the pillow this time.

-

Moonlight shimmers in from the open window. Sarah has been tucked in, the house is quiet and still, warmth lingering from the laughter that radiated only hours ago. The Little Mermaid was attempted again, but Sarah couldn’t keep her eyes open past the first song.  

You and Steve saved it once more for another night and made way to bed where he shows you a card Bucky and Natasha sent in the mail. He had forgotten all about it in the bustle of the celebration.  

The front is decorated cutely— fat honeybees float on daisies, speech bubbles conglomerating to read HapBEE Birthday!

On the inside, in surprisingly delicate penmanship, it reads:

Happy Birthday from two people you have only met once….

Hope he’s doing good by you and making it special. We’re excited to meet you and thank you for making that stupid boy so happy. If he ever gives you any more trouble, just let me know— he’s always been slow on the draw. And Natasha will kick his ass no sweat.

-Bucky and Nat

Steve watches you read the card under the lamplight, laughing before tucking it away on the end table. “They’re great.” You say softly, licking your lips with a minty tongue and scooting back down under the comforter. “I’d love to see Natasha kick your ass.”

He laughs too, because it’s the truth. You yawn and lean over to tug the light off, smiling when he grunts from the shifting of your weight on top of his torso. His eyes take a second to readjust, but he follows your blue shadow back over to your side of his bed. Your side. It makes him pinch his lips together with joy.

He doesn’t know how someone can light up a room like you, just sitting there in his t-shirt, doing nothing but smile. “Honey,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want to disturb the moment but can’t help himself. He just wants to see you looking at him.

“Yeah?” You turn your head ever so slightly, peek up under flared lashes— sleepy eyes struggling to stay awake— still sparkling. “What is it?”

“Honey, I love you.” Is all he can manage. Everything else seems to fade away.

And then you smile, a slow curling of your soft lips, cupid’s bow catching a moonbeam. You smile so sweetly his heart stops in his chest. The world comes rushing back with your tired sigh and your small hand linking itself with his. One beat, two beats, steadily, heavily, his blood pulses again when you kiss his cheek and murmur,

“I love you, too.”

[garnet-xx-rose]

Secret Santa

HO-HO-HO! @supericebeam I’m your secret Santa! So sorry for the delay, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. I was even able to hit all you’re prompts. Enjoy! Also thank you to @niuniente for hosting

"This is stupid." Catra proclaimed

It was the holidays, the few days each year when the Princess Alliance would not be active. Too many different holidays celebrated by the kingdoms individually. A perfect time to make an attack.

But instead, the Horde’s second in command found herself in the corner of Hordak’s throne room with a cup of gin in her hand and wearing what she considered the fugliest sweater she’s ever seen. Instead of conquering Etheria at its most vulnerable, the Horde was partaking in its first annual holiday party. This year’s theme: ugly sweaters.

“Oh come on Wildcat, don’t be so down,” Scorpia exclaimed as she walked over, a plate of finger foods being held by a pincer. Her sweater had holes suited for her spikes but unable to fit her muscular upper frame, making the piece look instead like a crop top. 

“Isn’t this great! We’re all here together, celebrating. Not just the holidays, but a great year. All the progress the Horde’s made.” Scorpia said excitedly while munching on her food. She gulped and looked down at Catra, blushing.

“Everything we’ve accomplished. Together.”

Catra scoffed. “Yeah, well we would be able to accomplish more if we weren’t just sitting around doing nothing. The princesses are busy with their dumb traditions, it’s an easy target!”

“Well hold on now Catra you know the rules, the Horde never invades during this time, some type of deal made during the first rebellion.” The scorpion princess stuffed a few more pigs in a blanket into her mouth, “Besides, now’s a great time to relax, take a load off. We’ve earned it!”

Catra was not made aware of that (damn, she really should’ve gone to orientation) but she didn’t really care. And now, she was getting annoyed by Scorpia’s chewing and patronizing.

“Whatever,” Catra called out before walking away to another empty space. Scorpia frowned as her friend wandered off, unsure if she should follow her, but decided against in fear of making her more agitated, “Let’s see what else is on the menu”

Catra found a spot against the wall facing the center of the party, a perfect place to people watch. 

Out on the floor were soldiers, force captains, and generals dressed in different colored sweaters, with the Horde symbol crudely stitched in the middle. They were conversing like regular townsfolk, making jokes, having heated debates, some even dancing. She could see Kyle refereeing an eating contest between Lonnie and Rogelio by the food table and on the other side Grizzlor and Octavia grooving on the dance floor, with the octo-woman taking control every now and then. But what was most bizarre of all was Lord Hordak himself, sitting high on his throne, dressed in a green sweater, sharing a plate of tiny sandwiches between himself and his little alien baby. And on his right sat the princess prisoner now turned chief scientist, Entrapta, chugging a fizzy drink with the help of a tendril while she wrote in her journal and spoke into her recorder as she oversaw the party below. 

Just like the rest of the guests, she was dressed in a sweater, but her’s was yellow with an image of Emily placed in the center. What was more noticeable to Catra was her hair put up into a mid-high ponytail, instead of pigtails, with a large ribbon bow wrapped into her hair on top. Catra had to admit the get-up did a number on her, but it was clear that Hordak was the most entranced victim to Entrapta. Every few moments Hordak would look over at his lab partner as if to reassure himself that she was there. And whenever Entrapta spoke to him or wanted to share her notes, he looked at her like she was the only thing in the world. He was leaning into her, mesmerized, and when Catra squinted she was sure she saw his hand on her thigh. Man, she wanted to be sick.

Catra groaned. This stupid party had to be Entrapta’s idea-though odd given her lack of interaction during social events like Princess Prom-just like all the other changes made to the Horde in recent memory.  It was ludicrous. In a matter of months, the strange Princess of Dryll had gone from her chained prisoner to Hordak’s most trusted member, something that not even long-time force captains could achieve. 

Entrapta had Hordak wrapped around her finger or hair for that matter. It made Catra confused, betrayed, angry. But, the more she thought about it, a vulnerable Hordak could be used to her advantage.

In the meantime, there was free food and booze just out in the open and it’s not like Catra wasn’t going to indulge herself. She made her way over to the food table, where now Scorpia had joined the eating contest.

“Hey!” Catra shouted, grabbing the attention of the young soldiers. Kyle looked nervous as usual while Lonnie was intrigued, waiting for the cat girl to explain her sudden interruption.

Catra sighed, maybe just for one day she didn’t have to play the Big bad.

“Room for one more?” 

Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio looked at each other in disbelief that Catra could be so respectful, but that disbelief was forgotten in moments as Scorpia rushed in and scooped Catra in a bone-crushing hug. 

“Oh, that’s my Wildcat, wanting to celebrate with her best friends!”

The woman put her down and starting making bowls for a new round. “Now let’s really get this party started!”

“Whatever,” Catra mumbled, stuffing a handful of pigs in a blanket in her mouth. 

————————-

The day of festivities was now at its final moments. The party had ended an hour ago and now the clean-up crew was making its final touches. On top of the staircase, party host Entrapta was dancing around the throne, gigging and squealing as her hair frizzled out in excitement.

“This is without question one of my most successful experiments to date!” 

Hordak, still seated, watched his partner jump around the room, a small smile exposed on his face. Entrapta hopped over and plopped herself on top of Hordak, her chest squished against his and her legs over tucked over his thighs. Hordak wheezed from the sudden impact. 

“According to my data, my hypothesis was correct: By hosting a social gathering with more palatable food than ration bars and activities for the Horde to partake in, morale and teamwork have increased, 32 percent might I add. And because the guests were already familiar with one another, social awkwardness was down 70 percent!” 

“Yes.” Hordak hissed, “Impressive indeed.”

He looked out to the center of the room, where only hours ago hundreds of Horde soldiers were partying and laughing. It was as if they forgot they were in the midst of decades-old war. A small part of Hordak felt envious. Seeing his captains and generals converse and laugh like old friends made him realize how little he knew about his people. It was as if the Horde had created a culture of its own, unbeknownst to Hordak, behind his back that only now was being unveiled because of such a light-hearted event. Even Catra, as anti-social as the girl was, seemed to have a good time with Force Captain Scorpia and the trio of horde soldiers Hordak always saw together. 

A gloved hand placed on his own snapped him out of his thoughts. He faced Entrapta who looked into him with the doest eyes and softest smile he’s ever seen on her face.

“I-uhh wanted to thank you for letting me conduct my experiment. I know it was a lot, convincing everyone to join and getting everything organized. It was also very nice of you to host in the throne room”

Now that she thought about, was that the first Horde party?

“I know that I can be a lot sometimes but know that I appreciate your consistent support in my endeavors, no matter how seemingly ridiculous.” Entrapta chuckled at the end of her statement, trying not to sound too sappy. Hordak’s biology betrayed him as his cheeks blushed a hard crimson. He began to stammer.

‘Well,” Hordak cleared his throat, “It has become clear that your work has exponentially improved not only the Horde’s infrastructure but my personal projections as well. I...thank you for your continuing assistance...and letting me work with a brilliant mind such as yourself.”

Now it was Entrapta’s turn to blush. With no mask to cover her face, she looked down but gave a small sigh, reassuring Hordak that she heard his flattering remark. Hordak looked back out, not wanting to make Entrapta feel any more discomfort. But only seconds later, he was staring at her again as she softly pressed herself against his chest and placed her head in the crook of his neck. Instead of freaking out and pushing her away-something that he would have done only weeks ago- Hordak rolled with it, intertwining his hand into Entrapta’s and placing his other on her backside, slowly petting her ponytail. 

These acts of intimacy were still new to them, only starting at the beginning of the month, but both have quickly come accustomed to the familiar sense of tenderness. The couple stayed embraced on the throne, quiet except for the occasional hum from Entrapta or grunt from Hordak. Time stood still as each took in the other’s presence fully. When Entrapta nuzzled herself into his neck, Hordak lost his control and gave himself to her, flaws and all. It was moments like this that Hordak could describe as nearly perfect, when everything- his defect, the war, Prime- washes away from his mind, letting his body be at peace. The calmness of it all was so intense. Hordak soon felt himself dozing off, happily wrapped in the arms of his partner.

“Wait!” Entrapta shouted, bouncing off of Hordak’s chest. Hordak’s eyes shot open at the sudden commotion. 

“I forgot about the gift exchange.” A tendril slithered behind the throne and came back around, dropping a mid-size box into Entrapta’s hands, amateurishly wrapped in blue paper. The princess than gave it to Hordak, “I would’ve given it earlier, but I didn’t want to make a scene during the party. I know how you still are with privacy.”

During the party, a secret gift exchange was held amongst the guests, but the hosts decided it would be best that they got gifts for each other. 

Hordak ran a talon across the paper, cutting it open with the edge of his nail. Neatly unwrapping the package, Hordak was left with a pink box that read in pretty cursive, “Salineas Serums”. Intrigued, the man lifted up the top of the box and moved it to the side. When he looked back into the box contents, Lord Hordak released a small gasp. Inside were two bottles of hair dye with color that matched Hordak’s hair, black eye shadow pallets, and a few other cosmetic accessories.

“You once briefly mentioned that you were running low on dye  while we working on the portal” Entrapta spoke, twiddling her finger around her ponytail, “I thought that along with some other supplies would be a sufficient present.” 

Hordak picked up the bottle and turned it in his hand, amazed at how well it matched his own. He never told Entrapta his shade, nor brand for that matter. “Oh!” Entrapta squeaked “It’s also the newest edition, so it lasts much longer and doesn’t run off as often. It’s not even set for release until next summer! And before you ask, I have a few connections with the company. They owe me a few favors after I solved their Jellyfish problem. I hope you like it!” 

Hordak stared at the bottle in disbelief. One off-handed remark about his personal care led her to this? So much time and attention put into her present. He hoped his gift to her could create at least half of the joy hers brought him. Hordak put the bottle back in the box and took a nearby pink tendril into his hand, the other grasping his partner’s. “Entrapta, this is perfect. I could not have asked for anything better.” He finished his confession by kissing the held strand of hair.

Entrapta giggled, happy at another success. Hordak was so entranced he almost forgot to present his own. He called out to Imp who was plopped on top of Emily, falling out after eating too many cookies. The infant-sized creature rubbed his eyes and sluggishly flew around the throne and came around to Entrapta, dropping another mid-size box into her lap before yawning and flying back over to Emily. 

Entrapta didn’t even take the time to appreciate the delicate wrapping, going straight in and ripping apart the paper. She was left with a brown box with a note on top that read, “A sneak peek of what’s to come,” signed “-H”. The princess took off the note, placed it to her side, and then opened the box. Inside was a stack of brown journals, she took out one and began to flip the pages. Entrapta gasped, louder than Hordak’s, almost loud enough to be a scream.

The pages were decorated in detailed drawings of planets, stars, and galaxies. Each page had not only had drawings but writings on the topic’s features and history. It would take Entrpata months, maybe even years to thoroughly get in-depth with these journals.

Life outside of Despondos, a mystery to Etherians for centuries. The answers were right here. 

Entrapta had the universe in her hands. 

“With all the progress we’ve made with the portal, I felt a little nostalgic and did some snooping around my old ship.” Entrapta looked up at Hordak, who spoke with a grin. “I found these and…I couldn’t think of a more brilliant, beautiful person to give them to.”

Entrapta could feel the rims of her eye getting wet. Before she could stop her self, her cheeks became wet too. The princess threw her arms around her partner’s, stuffing her face into his neck once more and mumbling incoherent words. Hordak continued to smile, pleased with Entrapta’s reaction, but wished to hear her words. 

“Care to repeat that?” the clone joked, rubbing his partner’s back.

Entrapta lifted herself and faced Hordak, her face still damp with small tears still streaming down her cheeks. 

“Oh, Hordak!” She cried, sniffling and then wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten! I really don’t know what to say. It’s...it’s..”

“Out of this world?”

Entrapta’s hair frizzled in excitement. “Exactly!” She grabbed Hordak’s cheeks and snuggled his face into her own. 

“You’re amazing.” She stated, nuzzling their noses. Hordak could only respond with a small moan of reassurance.

This day was perfect, nothing could make them feel any better than they did right now.

Well…

Chirping was heard above them. Entrapta and Hordak separated from their headlock and looked up to find Imp, holding up a mistletoe, with the most devilish smirk on his face. Hordak immediately blushed. He was aware of the Etherian tradition, but it was not like he ever had a willing partner. And it was not like Entrapta was going to-

His thoughts were suppressed as soft, plump lips smashed into his own. On cue, Hordak wrapped his arms around her curvy waist as she cupped his cheeks. The kiss grew deeper and once again Hordak and Entrapta became lost into each other, Hordak caressing her back and Entrapta running a hand through his hair. Hordak melted into her arms.

Before things got too heated, Entrapta lifted her lips off of Hordak. He looked at her so dazed and out it. She giggled, happy to see the influence she had on him.

“We should do this every year.” Hordak declared, though a little slurred.

Entrapta smiled, suggestively leaning back down to meet Hordak’s face.

“The party..or the kissing?”

Hordak raised his lips only an inch away from her and smirked.

“Both.”

[succ-mi-ween-blog]

Inside the building

Inside the building, Studio 20 occupies the first and second floors. Forty rooms open off pristine, white corridors, their walls adorned with pictures of women in states of glamorous undress. A closed door means business. Inside that room a woman is live and direct via webcam with international clients - and as long as she is alone in the room, it is entirely legal. In this world of virtual relationships and cybersex, those in front of the camera are "models" and the men who watch are "members". The whole thing is an amazing facade. You think these girls are camming from their rooms when they have free time, but no; they come to the studio at 8 AM and sit there until 6 PM. They work 40 hour weeks and often pay the studio 50 percent of their income. In exchange, the studio provides them with a built-in audience, a technical infrastructure, a hair and makeup person, a wardrobe—they even have people that train them on what clients tend to like and how to keep people in a quiet room with you.And that is not to say that there haven’t been bad times, like in any job. There have been mornings where I have come home with bruises all over my knees, my makeup sweated off, after a busy night. I have felt overworked and underappreciated by my bosses. Sometimes after a shift I have an overwhelming need to curl up in the arms of someone who loves me just because I crave that intimacy that I don’t get when I am at work because I am so self-sufficient there. And I am lucky that I have people who do love me, who can hold me after work and let me be still for a moment. I know that not everybody has that and I am never ungrateful for that privilege.Yes, they work even when they have their periods. This model says she fortunately has "the world's shortest, lightest periods" so she just chooses to do shows that don't require her to remove her underwear while wearing a tampon and then occasionally takes a day off if she feels like it. Makes sense.

Absolutely! Oh my good god! There are so many documentaries that really shit on webcammers, and that really angers me because I don't really think it has anything to do with the webcamming itself. I feel it has to do with the individual, the person. A lot of people end up doing it for money, not necessarily because they enjoy it, and they're made to feel bad about it. I totally feel the opposite. I feel like webcamming is fully me and something I wanted to do; the money was a bonus. The young woman proudly boasts a menu when she is online – in the form of a whiteboard which shows her viewers what she will do and how much it will cost them. A lot of what we see in the media doesn't help either. People have this idea [about] the type of person who does webcamming, where they're either not good enough for porn or they're too lazy to find a real job, and that's all bullshit. Unfortunately there's a lot of girls who do turn to webcamming for the wrong reasons, especially when it comes to money, and a lot of people feel guilty for doing it. But we sell our souls for money all the time, why not our body? Why wouldn't you have a bit of sexual fun at the same time?For the unfamiliar, camming is where clients pay to either watch a livestream of or have an individual video chat with a sex worker. It can’t be pirated and watched for free because the whole point of it is that it’s intimate and personal—you’re actually interacting with the person behind the screen.

"It's up to you as a woman to lead, and that's quite empowering.For my first show I applied some make­up, did my hair and put on a deep v-neck leotard. It was the middle of summer and boiling hot even in just that. I sat on my bed, placed my webcam facing toward me and sat doodling in my sketchpad, waiting for patrons.Unlike many who work in the sex industry, Sandy Bell does not worry about her own security.For Lana, 31, webcamming has provided enough money for her to bring up her daughter alone, and to think about investing money in something "that will bring money to the country". She plans to give up in two years' time. CONTINUED BELOW...

[clonecaptains]

She’s an Angel

inspired by this picture sent to me by @lightblindingme and this song shh don’t @ me it’s my griff song

ao3 link

She’s an angel....my only angel

Griff’s tattooed knuckle taps on the door for a couple solid knocks. His hands are too full to unlock the door with his keys. He waits a moment, and he flashes a grin to the peep hole in the door. The slide lock clinks and Griff sees the door knob turn.

Behind the door is his very pregnant lady, Lila.

“Oh Griff,” she moans and grabs the fast food bag and drink from his hands.

She sticks her hand into the bag and shoves a fistful of fries into her mouth. She moans again at the taste of the food.

“I don’t know if I should be jealous or turned on by the sounds you’re makin’,” Griff winks.

She scoffs and throws a ketchup packet at his head. She giggles when it whacks against his sunglasses.

“Don’t be jealous baby,” she smiles, “and thank you for my dinner.” She sits down on the couch to put her feet up while she eats. Her ankles are swollen. She gets her food out and sets Griff’s burger on the coffee table.

“I think I’ve tried one of everything on their menu,” Griff muses aloud when he takes a bite of the burger. His girl has been craving the fries from this restaurant for the past week. Griff has no issues, it’s cheap food and it keeps her happy. But cost isn’t an issue. He’d get her lobster every night if that’s what she wanted.

Granted his source of income isn’t exactly legal. He does what he has to to take care of his family.

While they eat, Lila flips through the TV. She stops for a moment when she sees a news story focusing on the bank job Griff had been a part of last week. She quickly changes the station. Tears start to fall from her eyes, and Griff feels the ache of guilt tug at his heart. His life wasn’t always like this. He used to be a mechanic, and a good one too.

He fixed up a car for the wrong person, and before he knew it Griff was in the bank robbing business.

“I know sugar, I’m almost done.” He reaches for her hand to reassure her. But then he follows her gaze to the TV and she’s crying over a puppy on a dog food commercial.

Griff cracks a smile, watching her eat her fries while she weeps over a puppy eating.

“Just one more,” he says again. More as a reminder to himself than anything.

“One more,” she smiles. She trusts him.

“One more,” Griff purrs and leans in to kiss her neck. His hand moves to her swollen belly. “You said that and this one happened,” he rubs her belly with a grin. Laughing, she elbows Griff off of her.

“Let me eat my food in peace Griff,” she snaps.

“I’m sorry sugar,” he goes back to his burger. He knows it’s her hormones. And he knows she’s scared. Their future is very uncertain.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’d lean up to kiss you but I feel like a whale.”

Griff throws his head back to laugh. His hand goes back to her belly and he leans in to kiss her.

“Wait,” she puts her hand on his chest. “You didn’t get onions on your burger did you?”

“Nope, learned that the hard way.” He closes the gap between their lips and she sighs into him.

When the kiss breaks, Griff slides down to rest his head on her lap. His ear is pressed against her tummy. One of her hands slides into Griff’s gelled hair, and she continues to eat.

Looking down, she sees Griff smiling up at her.

“What?” she blushes behind her drink.

She reaches down to grab his sunglasses that he’d folded on his t-shirt collar. Unfolding them she places them on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she blushes with a giggle.

“Sugar,” Griff’s grin is devilish. “You know I can see you through these right?”

“Yes of course, but I can’t see your eyes.”

“How come you don’t want to?”

“Because….” she slurps the last of her drink down. “You’re looking at me with those eyes. Like you’re gonna pounce on me.”

“Well I didn’t get dessert,” he shrugs.

Her cheeks flush, her hormones have her blood boiling with desire. Though it’d didn’t take much from Griff to turn her on.

She feels his eyes on her while she finishes eating. Her fingers keep playing with his hair. They smile when the baby kicks, Griff felt it against his ear.

After awhile of watching TV, Griff rolls over and presses kisses to her thighs. Lila’s hand rests between his shoulder blades. She doesn’t protest his kissing her legs.

“Can I have dessert baby?” Griff leans up to look at her. He lowers his sunglasses to force eye contact.

She flushes and nods. Lately she’s been too tired for any kind of intimacy. But right now those eyes are sending jolts of arousal through her body.

Griff helps her up, and they make their way into the bedroom.

“Can I take these off or do you not want me to look at you?” Griff teases.

Smiling, she reaches for the sunglasses and pulls them off his face. Gently she touches her fingertips to his bearded jaw. She motions him to come forward and meet her for a kiss. He backs her onto the bed slowly, his hand guides her head.

Griff adjusts a pillow under her head, and another one under her back. Her knees are bent, and her legs are dangling off the bed. Her toes brush against the carpet.

“Lay back baby, and relax,” he hums. He slowly slides down her shorts and underwear. He kneels between her legs, and lifts them up over his shoulders. He kisses her inner thighs, his beard brushes against her skin. Her swollen belly prevents her from reaching forward to grab his hair, so she balls the sheets up in her fists when his mouth touch sensitive flesh.

“Griff!”

With a gasp of his name, she presses her foot onto his shoulder. His beard is burning her thighs as he moves and she loves it.

Griff smirks when he feels her foot on his shoulder slip off. His hands rub up and down her thighs.

Her legs are wobbly when she finally decides to stand.

“How did I end up with someone like you huh?” Griff smiles while he hands her her panties. His eyes, while still full of desire, are full of love for her.

Feeling bashful, and flushed, she smacks Griff with her underwear.

He fakes being in pain, which makes Lila laugh.

“I’m being serious,” Griff grins and grabs her hips. He rubs her t-shirt covered tummy.

“You are a thief Griff. Stole my heart,” she jokes and puts on his sunglasses.

“That was so terrible it was cute,” Griff pinches her butt to make her squeal.

She rubs her belly, and gives Griff a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m gonna take a shower, and you mister are not allowed.”

“Damn woman. That’s just cruel,” Griff gives her his best smirk and the eyes that he knows get her.

“No Griff. I can’t see that tattooed body. That’s how this happened remember?”

“Mmm but you saw this tattooed body lots of times before that,” he teases. But he doesn’t argue. She’s tired. “Want me to give you a foot rub when you get out?”

“Oh Griff, yes,” she moans.

He smirks, “so easily pleased.” He taps her nose with his finger, and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Go shower, I’ll be here when you get out.”

He takes his sunglasses off her face and kisses her once more before she turns to go in the bathroom. That’s when Griff realizes he still has a half eaten burger left on the coffee table.

Propping his feet up, he turns the TV back on and finishes his meal. He hears the water start to run.

The news station flashes the story again, and he frowns. Tonight, that’s how his life should be. Bringing his wife dinner and making love to her. Quiet moments while she showers and he watches TV.

“No more,” he thinks. He can’t have his future child see their father’s face on the news. Taking care of his family is all that matters, but he loves them too much to put them in danger.

Moments later, Lila walks into the living room. Her hair is wrapped up in a towel. Her maternity sleepshirt is stretched over her belly.

“I’m here to cash in my foot rub?” she teases. Griff pats the couch next to him and she sits with a sigh. He pulls her legs onto his lap and begins to work his fingers into her aching feet.

His massage lulls her to sleep not too long after he begins.

Smiling softly he stands to pick her up with care. With a soft groan she curls into his arms.

“Go to sleep angel,” Griff whispers and kisses her forehead. He gets her settled into bed and can’t help but smile seeing her bump poke out from the covers.

She’s his angel. He wants to do right by her. He’ll find a way to get out of this life for her. For his angel.

[jastiss-blog]

Holiday Treat - older Ignis x fem!reader x Noctis NSFW

This was supposed to be a smol Christmas trash fic.  It’s not.  It sits around 6k words of some plot, some Ignis x fem!reader and Ignis x fem!reader x Noctis.

Threesome, sharing, oral, unprotected sex, competitive Noct and Iggy, I guess there’s an orgasm delay there too.  Happy holidays, y’all!

Fuck, I forgot a read more.  Edited because this is a beast.

@hypaalicious I think you might like this?  Hopefully. lol maybe @atarostarling, @sonsoflucis I don’t know who likes what anymore, I’m guessing.

Gods, rebuilding a city is rough.

Perhaps if you had been a ordinary civilian, you could focus on your own life, creating new memories to wash away the horrors of the Endless Night.  You wouldn’t be spending nigh twelve-hour days in meetings with folks just like you: exhausted, overworked, underfed and yet… determined.  Insomnia was your home, and you were all eager to see it restored to its former glory, a glittering gem at the heart of your beloved country.  It just… felt like you had to put it through a hell of a rock tumbler, one that was shaking up your brain enough to give you a concussion.

However, through your education and connections to the throne, you were all but required in the meetings held by the new council of Insomnia.  Another day finished, you decide to sneak down to see your love, perhaps convince him to find a place to eat tonight instead of taking time to prepare a meal.  

The problem isn’t that you don’t enjoy his meals, rather, it’s quite the opposite.  However, with all the efforts funneled into rebuilding, the two of you have been little more than passing ships for weeks, and it’s become rather tiresome.  You miss him.  You miss early morning cuddles before he rises to brew his first pot of Ebony, the languid kisses of dawn.  You miss sharing the morning news, competing to see who can finish the brain teasers the quickest.  

If you’re honest with yourself, you miss the intimacy the most.  Heat pools in your lower abdomen as your mind unhelpfully supplies a flash back to the last time he sunk himself into your willing heat and you clench your thighs, teeth gritting against the wave of arousal that spikes through you at the vivid memory.

“Not helpful,” you growl to your traitorous body, making for the door.  

His office is two floors down, and you take the journey to calm the heat rushing through your veins, focusing instead on the rumbling in your stomach.  Idly, you wonder if you even ate at all today…

Stealthily, you ease the heavy door open, intending to catch your man unawares for a change.  It’s a difficult thing, being that his career and life have literally revolved around being the single most observant man in all of Lucis.  To your surprise, he doesn’t call you out right away, a lilting smirk upon scarred lips signaling his amusement that you thought you could actually sneak up on him.  In fact, he doesn’t greet you at all.

Not with his face, at any rate.

Instead, you’re graced with the view of the backsides of the two most attractive men in Lucis, their owners hunched over documentation on the ebony desk before them, discussing the state of the world outside of the Lucian borders.

You’re torn between wanting to laugh at Noctis, all grown up and discussing matters of state as if he were deciding his lunch menu and flash of extreme arousal that surges through you at the sight of two perfectly sculpted, battle- toned asses on display for your viewing pleasure.  While Ignis’ was one you had the opportunity to ogle often (and you took that opportunity whenever possible), Noct was another story.

After committing the sight to memory, you cough delicately to announce your presence.

“Pardon the interruption, Your Majesty,” you apologize.  “Should I come back later?”

A dreamlike state blankets the room as they straighten slowly and gaze in your direction.  Ignis regards you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to associate with him; kindness, dancing mirth and something darker, carnal.  Something feels different about the quirk of his lips this day, and perhaps it’s because of the way the King's eyes land upon you.

Gooseflesh breaks out over your exposed skin as you note the hint of magenta madness in the Lucian monarch's sapphire eyes, a gorgon’s gaze casting you to stone.  It takes you a few moments too long to realize you left a few of your buttons undone to tease Ignis, a detail the King certainly doesn’t miss as his ardent eyes flick to your bosom and back.

“Not at all, Y/N,” he practically purrs, a devilish smirk about his lips for but a second before his face turns calm, welcoming.  “We're about finished for the day.  All of us are exhausted; no sense in beating a dead horse.  Right, Specs?”

“Astrals, Noct, had you but come up with such a novel idea hours ago before my brain reduced to flan ooze,” the advisor answered wryly.  “You are correct, though.  I feel at this point, rest would leave us far more productive than discussing this topic while running on empty.” Noct heaves a great sigh, leveling a smirk at his most trusted friend.  “If you wanted a day off, all you had to do is ask.  I guess I’ve no choice but to adjourn the meetings tomorrow morning.”

Ignis looks to you, deadpan.  “And so 20-year-old Noct decides to make an appearance.  Highness, we are not taking a day off because you somehow still hate mornings after ten years of rest.”

When Noct chuckles, slapping a hand on Ignis’ shoulder in mirth, the rich sound sends a jolt to your core.  You try your best to ignore your reaction, but Ignis' keen gaze is still upon you and you’re damn sure he’s noticed.  Cloudy vision hasn’t hindered his perception one iota, much to your chagrin.  You sigh; you’ve got enough problems in life without lusting after your partner's best friend.

“A joke, Iggy, relax,” Noct assures him.  “I’ve got matters to discuss with Camelia about the rebuild efforts in Accordo; she seems to think we owe her a great deal although I do not recall that being part of our terms.  Gladio’s accompanying me for that so that you can avoid any painful memories that may remain.

“Anyway!  Y/N, come here.  I have something that I need a woman’s opinion on.”

As you approach the desk to assist your liege, he gestures to a document upon it, drawing you in to have a look.  Neither man shifts to accommodate your presence, forcing you to wedge yourself between them.  You gulp, hoping your body doesn't make a fool of you this day.

“A Christmas party!” he explains, a boyish smile cracking his face.  It reminds you of the lazy prince that was before he entered the crystal all those years ago.  “Christmas is almost here and I thought I’d celebrate and open the Citadel to the public to relax.  Everyone has worked to the bone lately and deserves it.”

His enthusiasm has brought him practically on top of you.  He motions to the plans for the party, turning to you and taking your arm.

“What do you think?” he asks, and there it is again, something in his eyes and your knees wobble.  

His eyes shine, their depths showing the young boy Ignis describes having grown up with, so small and full of life.  Warring with the childish glee lurks the darkened desires of a world-weary man, the juxtaposition sending you reeling.

“Ah, I think it’s a lovely idea, Your Highness,” you remark, your voice breathy.  Was it getting warm in the room?

A subtle tug on your arm draws you back to your senses and you turn to face Ignis, a small scowl about his typically passive face.  You mentally berate yourself; you'd be mad as hell if you had just caught Ignis in the position you were in with another female.  The thought jars you enough to force you to control your baser needs.  After all, Ignis is the rock in your life and you aren't about to erode it away in a careless moment with the King.

"Well then, we'll be taking our leave," Ignis announces, giving Noct a small bow.  "I will see you when you return."

Though the Lucian King sighs dramatically, putting on a show for the blond's sake, his eyes remained fixed upon yours, intense, and did not break until forced.

~~~

"Darling, you seemed rather... ah, distracted earlier," Ignis comments over dinner.  

That's it.  You know you're in trouble at that point, for although the comment itself is innocent, aloof, his eyes belie the brevity of the situation.

"Indeed," you agree.  "Overworked, exhausted, just like anyone else.  You know how it is."

Emerald eyes meet yours, the milkiness of them unable to mask his suspicions.  A selfish part of you almost wished he didn't receive partial vision back upon destruction of the Ring of the Lucii that you may avoid the situation you've found yourself in.

"Ah, well, the King is a rather... pretty man, wouldn't you say?" you ask.  His lips purse, eyes narrowing.  "I mean, I wouldn't do anything about it but it's been a while for us and bodies are stupid creations, Ignis.  I'm sorry."

He is silent for so long, you wonder if he'll up and leave you at the restaurant, decorum be damned.  You squirm, but you're determined to say nothing while he works through whatever is going through his head.  

"If I have been inattentive to your needs-" he says as you're chewing a bite of food, causing you to immediately spit it out and shake your head frantically.

"Ignis, it isn't like that at all," you assure him, pausing to cough lightly over a bit of food stuck in your throat.  "Matters of state come first.  We've talked about this since... since before you left for Altissia, remember?  I get it.  I won't let it happen again, promise."

If he has more to say on the particular subject, he files it away for another time, gaze thoughtful as you finish your meals.

At home, you can tell he's exhausted: there are bags under his eyes bigger than a behemoth's backside, his blinking is slowed such that you think his eyes will just close...

Yet the moment you crawl under the sheets, he comes to life.

Ignis, to his credit, is always an extremely attentive lover, never one to leave you unsatisfied.  But tonight... it's different.

There's something under his fiery touch as he skims deft fingers over your body, pausing to tease your nipples until they're hardened, pebbled and begging for more.  Of course he grants it to you, his coiffed head lowering to lave them with more attention from the slick, firm glide of his devilish tongue.  You swallow hard, worry your bottom lip with your teeth before a gentle nip sends pleasure sparking through your veins and your mouth drops open to grace his ears with obscene moans.

"That's it, how I love hearing you sing for me," he murmurs against your slick skin, the sudden cool burst causing your sex to contract, a breathy sound crossing your lips.  "What other music will you make before I'm quite finished with you?"

"Oh, I see how it is," you manage.  "It's going to be a tease day, is it?"

He doesn't answer, simply pauses in his trek down your body to lift his visor from his face, neatly fold in, and set it down upon the bedside table with a purposely audible clack.  Something about the sound has your breath quickening, anticipation spiking your heart rate to soaring heights as he leans back down, trailing his lips down your temple and cheek to press a passionate kiss to your lips.

Before he can pull away, you lean in and lick at the scar on his lip, reveling in the hitch of his breath as you caress the still sensitive skin.

"You little minx," he smirks.  "I will not be deterred.  You'll simply have to be patient."

You let him have his way, though you swat at him when he pauses to tickle you on his quest to drive you mad with want.  His quick fingers ghost over your slit before dancing down your thighs, strong hands caressing your calves and quads as you pant, staccato notes of frustration being plucked from you.

"Ignis," you trill.  

"That's it, let me hear you," he praises, his breath suddenly a salacious glissade over your nether lips.  

Nature takes its course, your hips buck instinctively, seeking contact.  A dark chuckle reaches your ears just before long fingers finally make contact with your aching nub.  A sharp cry rips from your throat, your hips raising from the mattress, a silent plea for more.

"Yes, darling?" he asks, increasing the pressure only slightly, only serving to drive you further to madness.

His fingers trail down to your weeping entrance, one dipping inside briefly, massaging your fluttering walls as his tongue flicks against your clit.  You moan out your appreciation, although you know you need more.  

“Astrals,” he groans, “such a naughty girl, so wet with barely a touch.” "No more teasing," you pant out.  It's been so long, you're in no mood to drag this out.  "Please.  I’m ready, you don’t need to do all this."

He doesn't immediately acquiesce, instead choosing to add a second finger, pumping it languidly, dragging against your g-spot at every pass.  Your breaths shorten, fingers curling in the sheets as the coil within you threatens to shatter.  When his tongue dances over your clit with more pressure, you can't even begin to contain the broken cries falling from your lips as your back arches, head thrown back as you fall apart.  Your vision darkens slightly, the intensity of your completion such that your system shorts out for a moment.  Your orgasms are always intense, but that was something else.

"The most beautiful music," he sighs, and you feel a shudder run through him.

Ignis rides with you through the pulsing of your inner walls as you quiet, falling back to the mattress with a thwump.  The smirk on his face when he crawls up your form makes you breathe a laugh and shake your head, mind clouded by rushing endorphins.

"Yes, yes," you say, "you're very satisfied with yourself.  As you should be.  Now, dear, can you please just fuck me?"

The strategist surges forward, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, your tongues battling for dominance.  The taste of yourself on his tongue fuels your arousal once more.

"As my lady requests," Ignis whispers, his lips barely brushing yours.  

As he nestles himself between your legs, lining his rock-hard length up at your eagerly waiting entrance, he pauses.  More teasing, but your mind is so far gone in lust you simply aren't having it.  You grab his hips, taking a firm hold of his toned buttocks and drag him toward you. Your efforts reward you only slightly, the very tip of him sliding into you, parting your slick walls with ease.  It's your favorite part, the initial push, your nerves singing in pleasure and you allow your voice to do the same.  Ignis smiles sweetly down at you, leaning down to touch his cheek to yours for just a moment before slamming home.

"Gods!" you cry, the pleasure tinged with slight discomfort as you adjust.  "Ignis, move!"

His methodical pace overwhelms you; not brutal, but not slow, almost always angled perfectly for g-spot stimulation.  You allow your vocal chords to do what they will, cries matching the cadence of your hips snapping up to meet his in a desperate bid for release.  You instinctively hook your legs about his, and he adjusts his angle in return, still stimulating your pleasure spots, but deeper.

Somehow, although his hands seem to be everywhere (tweaking your nipple here, sliding along your curves there, applying just the right amount of pressure to your oversensitive nub), Ignis finds time to catch you in a grip strong enough to haul you into his lap.  Strong strokes shift to shorter grinding, your nerves overwrought yet calling for more.

The strategist's nose trails gently down your neck before soft lips close around the juncture of your neck and shoulder, suckling what is sure to be a large purple mark come morning.  None of that matters to you; the world can know you belong to Ignis Scientia for all you care.  When he bites down, the crash of pleasure causes you to clench around the cock buried womb deep in your silken heat, drawing a strained groan from Ignis.

"Keep that up and I'm afraid I must cut the activities short," he grinds out, voice devolved into hoarse rasps.  "Behave, darling."

You'll have nothing of the sort.  Armed with this knowledge, you rhythmically tighten your inner walls around him to drive him over the edge.  It doesn't take long before he leans back, flat on his back, driving up into you with such force your breasts bounce.  All you can do is go along for the ride, driving down to meet him, hands braced on his quads as your back arches with a building orgasm.

"Ah, darling, come with me," Ignis all but commands, his thumb dragging across your swollen nub as his pace becomes short of brutal.  

Long since has your body been attuned to this man’s particular brand of pleasure, and at his command, it launches itself off the cliff you’ve been toeing.  When you begin clench around him, a sinful moan escapes him, eyes screwing shut as the muscles beneath your hands tense.   Thunder courses through your veins, or perhaps lava… the volatile mix of elements something only Ignis can create.  A fresh high overtakes you as his cock jerks, the sensation of him releasing within you further extending the aftershocks of your rush.

No words are needed as you gently lift yourself off of his lithe body and flop down beside him, exhaustion dragging at you both.  Unsatisfied with the arrangements, Ignis wraps his arms about your naked frame to bring your head against his chest, and the sound of his calming heart (your heart) lulls you into a deep slumber.

~~~

Weeks pass in the blink of an eye as Noct decides to put you in charge of the Christmas party, much to Ignis' displeasure.  You’re not quite sure what’s left a sour taste in his mouth, but you feel as if you’re spending as much time with the King as he is, resulting in the two of you seeing each other more often.  It’s something you can’t really complain about, though; your sex life has taken a dramatic upswing and you’re definitely pleased.

Libido sated, your unclouded mind is able to pick up on the subtle flirtation the monarch is aiming in your direction, and you work to deter it.  A small part of your mind laments the fact that you’re unable to at least give the attractive man a test drive, but you’re happy with your arrangements and push those thoughts aside.

Ignis pointedly buries himself in his work whenever it happens, always being as loud as possible.  Noct only smirks, as if the entire situation is a game to him.

Finally, the grand day arrives.  Though Noct continues the tradition of black being the color most significant, he did give you leave to add accents of red and silver for the occasion.  Garland is strewn about the room, twinkling lights and as a special treat to Prompto, a specially trained group of warbling chocobros. You managed you get a hold of that dumb kissing plant that everyone raves about, too.  It was even snowing.

All but the sections of the Citadel requiring security clearance are open, citizens milling about, smiling… actually laughing.  Most folks had dragged their nicest clothing out, and of course you and the rest of the council are no exception.  Noct decreed it to be a suit day for the gentlemen and a formal dress for yourself and the few other women present.

You had decided on a sleek red number with a scoop neck sleeveless lace bodice and a form fitting skirt to be festive.  It's a dress you've been holding on to for years, obviously no occasion to wear it to during the Dark, but you'd intended to wear it to a special evening with Ignis.  It seemed like a good opportunity to see it in action.

You were chatting away with Monica over how good Cor looked in a suit, tittering away with a glass of wine in hand, when Noct and company entered.  The two of you turned, mouths immediately going try at the sight of four very well dressed, very attractive men absolutely owning the room. "...oh," was all Monica said, eyes wide.

"Six save us all," you add.  "I've died.  Or maybe I'm dreaming."

They break rank, Gladio staying with Noct (he had drawn the short straw) while Prompto and Ignis made their way into the crowd.  Emerald eyes find yours, and the living dream that is the strategist in a damn fine suit glides toward you.  He reaches your side, encircling you with a quick hug and gives you a peck on the cheek in greeting.

"Darling, close your mouth," Ignis smirks, raising his hand to gently place a finger under your chin.  "We're not here to catch flies."

As you glare and prepare for a retort, he leans in close and whispers directly in your ear at just that octave that really gets you going.  "You may wish to rest that pretty mouth of yours now.  It will be rather busy later."

As you sputter, he chuckles and announces he'll be back with drinks for you both.  Beside you, Monica giggles as well.

The early part of the night passes without incident, happy citizens mingling, enjoying the sights and the company of each other, nary a care in the world.

Then the dancing starts, and your entire world turns upside down.

Of course, Ignis approaches you for the first dance, your heart thudding at being in such close proximity to the god among men.  You're not sure you trust your body to not react violently to the situation.

"My dear," he says, holding his hand out to you.  

You're about to take it when a voice interrupts you.  

"Now, now, Ignis," says Noct, materializing out of nowhere.  "You get this stunning creature all to yourself every day.  Why not let me have this dance?"

He has that smirk on his face, the one he often wears when he's intentionally attempting to piss off his adviser.  You'd take that at face value if not for the way his ocean eyes roam your figure, the way his eyes darken as he studies you.  Suddenly, you feel like a fine cut of meat, cooked perfectly and begging to be devoured.

Though Ignis purses his lips, he won't deny his best friend a single thing.   "Of course, Highness," he agrees, his formality giving away his annoyance.  

"Also," the playful king continues, "I'll need you to run the perimeter with Cor, make sure everything's alright.  Poor Gladio looks bored.  Give the guy a break."

Ignis' expression tightens, but he gives a bow and looks to you.  "I shall see you in a short while, Y/N.  Do try to enjoy yourself."  

As Ignis proceeds to relieve Gladio of guard duty, Noct turns to you, eyes twinkling.  "Now, without Specs the Stuffy here, let's enjoy our dance.  Shall we?"

You simply nod, taking his war-calloused hand.  He dances much like Ignis, only a bit stiff, leading you to assume Ignis probably taught him as part of his royal prep.

To avoid thinking about how handsome and rugged Noct is, you decide to make small talk.  "Your people sure love you, Noct.  He may not say it, but Ignis is proud of the man you've grown to be." He chuckles.  "I know.  I'm awesome."

There's the boy you know and love.  "So, what's it like being king?"

"Basically, the same as before," he answers.  "Ignis still shouts at me to eat my vegetables.  Gladio still spars with me.  I just spend more time in one place, now.  I have to actually listen at council meetings instead of relying on Ignis to take notes for me.  Fewer naps, so I'm grumpier.  Gladio says it adds to my kingly image."

You laugh freely, tossing your head back.  "Never change, Noct."

He stares poignantly at you as the music ends, a peculiar look in his eye.  Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and he looks up, your gaze following his to land upon that damned mistletoe you insisted upon hanging.

"Well, well," he murmurs, a wicked smirk upon his perfect lips.  "You know the tradition, Y/N.  A kiss for your king?"

Cheeks heating, you're left unsure of what to do.  Does he mean a lip kiss?  Surely, he can't mean that; he knows of your involvement with Ignis.  Would it be awkward to kiss his cheek?   "Darling, don't keep him waiting," Ignis suddenly purrs in your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, raising the baby hairs there.  "He's been talking about this all day."

Bewildered, you turn your gaze to your boyfriend, all smoldering eyes and impish smiles.  He gives you a nod, nudging you toward his friend.  "It's quite alright, Y/N.  If it's your wish, go ahead."

Your brain short circuits and you're not quite sure what happened, but your lips suddenly touch Noct's in a tentative kiss, his waiting lips returning the gentle pressure with quiet enthusiasm. After a moment, Ignis coughs lightly, drawing your attention back to him.

"Noct, to avoid another public relations incident, permit me to suggest the three of us find somewhere a bit more private?" he offers, voice low.

The... three of you?  Your questioning eyes meet his.  "Ignis?"

"With your consent, of course, darling," he adds.  

They both turn their eyes to you, silently awaiting your permission.  It's at that point you decide you must be dreaming; you and Ignis do get adventurous in the bedroom from time to time, but... a threesome with the king?  Six, it was the stuff of every one of your fantasies, therefore, absolutely not real.

"I'm fairly certain this is actually a dream, but if I'm ultra lucky and I'm awake, I absolutely consent," you confirm, yet a question remains.  "But, Ignis, why?"

A naughty smile overtakes him and he chuckles quietly.  "A curiosity of mine that I've not had the chance to explore.  It seems that you were rather taken with dear Noct and there's no one I trust more so I thought... why not?"

"Sharing is caring!" Noct pipes up.  "Let's go.  We can head for the royal suite."

The elevator ride is intense.  Not a one of you dares speak, but the charged atmosphere makes you feel as if your hair should be standing on end.  Though the space is large, the two men stand very close to you, their bodies touching yours just enough to make you shiver in anticipation. Your mind blanks, bringing you up for air as the three of you settle in on Noct's massive canopy bed.  The black silken sheets are cool against your overheated skin when Ignis gently pushes you down upon them.  He gets to work removing your clothing, pressing a kiss to your brow as anxiety rises in you.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" Ignis queries, concern drawing his eyebrows close.

You nod, lifting yourself slightly to aid him in unzipping your dress.  "I'm fine.  Go ahead."

"Come on, Specs," Noct husks, hungry eyes roving over your skin as Ignis bares it.  "She's not made of glass."

The strategist barely has your dress off and tossed on a nearby chair when Noct pounces upon you, dazzling you with the brilliance of his smile.  For all his bravado, his kiss is tentative, gentle, but by no means unsatisfying.  You decide to go all out (since this is most definitely a dream) and snake your tongue out to touch the seam of his lips, asking entry.

It's enough to light a fire in him as he grants your request, tongue darting out to grapple with yours, clearly not interested in letting you be the dominant party.  As your mouths war, his hands wander possessively down your form, pausing to dip into the cups of your lacy black bra to pinch your nipple roughly, swallowing the startled moan that bursts from you.

You're vaguely aware of the sensation of lace skimming over your legs, distracted as you are.  What you're keenly aware of is Ignis draping your limbs over his shoulders (heels still on, you note) and running his tongue up the length of your slit, teasing your clit at the end of his trek.

Your mouth rips from Nocts as you cry out, trying and failing to keep from bucking roughly into Ignis' face.  He's prepared, as he always is, holding you down so that you don't move much.

"As King, I feel I should get to claim you first," Noct declares.  "Specs, get her ready, will you?  And as for you, Y/N, I have a problem that requires your expert touch."

"I told you there would be benefits to being king," Ignis murmurs, mirth coloring his tone.

"Someone should have specified which," Noct returns, laughter bubbling from both of you.  "Would have made me a lot more receptive."

Your laughter is interrupted by Ignis slipping two fingers into your heat, your parched lips spilling more moans at his ministrations.  Noct removes your bra with slight effort (it's not like you're very much help, distracted as you are) and briefly disappears to undress.  When he returns, your vision fills with the sight of his rigid cock, standing proudly at attention and awaiting your talents.

Without hesitation, you lick a trail from base to tip, paying close attention to the bulging vein and underside of the head.  Noct isn't small by any means (you had wondered, what with Gladio and his puny jokes, but anyone is puny in comparison to the monster that is very likely Gladio) but he's shorter in length than Ignis, with more girth.  It makes it easy for you to take him all in one go, and if the sounds falling from his lips are any indication, he's impressed. It's damn hard to focus on pleasuring another person when you yourself are in the throes of passion, but you think you manage well enough.  Your muffled moans add to the sensations for Noct, his hand coming to rest upon your head innocently at first, but it isn't long before you surrender control, allowing him to effectively fuck your face.  Being used does something for you, and the pressure within you increases exponentially.

"Iggy, don't let her come until I fuck her," Noct commands, panting hard. Your jaw aches slightly and the corners of your mouth feel a bit stretched, but it's easy enough to ignore as Ignis adds a third finger and sucks hard on your clit, pressing hard on your g-spot.  You shake your head slightly, your muscles tensing in anticipation...

Obediently, Ignis slows, but doesn't stop.  It's enough for you to catch your bearings. Noct withdraws from the warm wet heat of your mouth with an abrupt pop, leaving you breathless, debauched.

"Ready for the main course?" he asks, desire blazing in eyes drowned black by blown pupils. "More food puns," you groan, chuckles leaving each of you as the men switch places.   Noct taps your leg in warning, rolling you over and placing you on your knees, lining up behind you, the head of him gliding teasingly over your dripping entrance.  Ignis sits back on his haunches for a moment, smiling at the question in your gaze.

"I'd like to watch for a moment," he explains, palming his rigid length, making your mouth water.  "Don’t worry, I'll make good use of those lovely lips soon enough."

There's no time to retort as Noct chooses that moment to slam into you to the hilt, forcing a scream from your abused mouth.  Ignis closes his eyes for a moment, idly stroking himself to the sound of your pleasure.  

The grip Noct has on your hips is rough, sure to leave marks, but you don't have the capacity to care because it feels so good.  The angle he has you at grazes your g-spot, slamming into your cervix for extra stimulation and it's all too much for your overstimulated self.

You hadn't noticed Ignis move, but his talented fingers land upon your clit, using the perfect amount of pressure and it all sends you flying over the edge into oblivion.  Stars explode behind your eyelids as another scream pushes forth from you.  Your head drops to the mattress, face burying in the still cool sheets as you come down from the clouds. The king is unconcerned, working your pulsing walls through your orgasm as if it wasn't happening.  A hand leaves your hip to give a quick slap to your ass and you whimper, inner walls fluttering in interest.

Ignis taps your cheek lightly and you draw yourself back up, reaching greedily for the cock you know and love.  A few moments of hanging in a delicate balance between the powerhouse that is Noct and the polar opposite gentleness of Ignis and you're right there at the edge again, your essence leaking out of you to make a slow trek down your thighs.

"I bet Ignis treats you like a delicate flower, Y/N," Noct growls.  "I can see how your body craves rougher treatment."

Noct lands a blow on the other cheek and you clench around him hard, drawing moans from all three of you.

"Of course you would be that way, Noct," Ignis pants. "Come on, Y/N, whose cock is better, now that you have me to compare?" Noct goads, knowing it'll get Ignis' blood boiling.

You can tell he's close, the muscle within you growing harder, twitching as you clench around him.  Idly, you wonder what his intentions are.  So far gone are you that you simply don't care, your own peak beginning to crest.

Ignis practically shoves you off of him in his haste to remove Noct from within you, but you whimper pathetically, because you're so damn close.

Sensing this, Noct slams into you a few more times, the thrusts and overall treatment enough to send you over the edge again, leaving you a moaning mess as he pulls out of you.

"Noo," you whine, but there's a scuffle in which Ignis shoulders Noct aside and fills you before you really feel the loss.

The monarch laughs darkly, returning to his place before you. "Specs is so easy to mess with, sometimes," he says, guiding your mouth to his cock again.  "I hope you don't mind swallowing.  That would be pretty hot."

It won't be long for him, you think, as he's still ultra hard and pulsing, so you get to work, wiggling your ass to get Ignis moving.  He obliges, his long strokes slightly more unhinged than usual.  The strategist pinches at your nipples before brutally attacking your clit, still hoping to bring you to orgasm despite his need to get off himself.  

Spit dribbles down your chin and now your jaw is really feeling the ache, but you're so full and practically every nerve in your body is alight with pleasure, so you resolve to hang in there a bit longer.  Heat pools once again at the apex of your thighs, threatening to burn through you and rend you to ash.  Hands fisting in the sheets, you give yourself over to the pyre and wait for the conflagration to take you.

When it does, your entire body shakes with the force of it and gods if you don't feel like your exhausted body might just give out.  Your mouth and the near constant vibrations of your moans finally send Noct over as well, thick cum shooting to the back of your throat.  Some leaks out before you can swallow, but for the most part, you've made a clean affair of it.

Ignis, seeing the two of you gone mad in passion, gives in as well, the force of him releasing in you setting off a smaller orgasm on the heels of the last and you are well and truly done.

You aren't the only one, though, evidenced by the fact that the three of you collapse into a tangle of limbs on the rumpled sheets, panting heavily.

"I still gotta know who's better," Noct remarks casually, laughing.

Ignis reaches across your body, lazily swatting at him.

"No contest, Highness," he says, voice hoarse.  "She's pledged herself to me with good reason."

You simply laugh, content to lie and enjoy the heat of their bodies.  A very merry Christmas, indeed.

[chooseywoozy]

Perfect Match, Book One: Chapter 1 - True Love, Guaranteed

(NOW PLAYING AS KARMA)

You walk down a bustling Brooklyn street, the sounds of the city humming all around you.

Karma: (Hope I’m not late!)

Soft music plays as you step into the hip venue of an upscale art show.

Karma: Nadia! Hey!

You spot your cousin, Nadia, among the crowd. Her face lights up as she approaches with arms outstretched and wraps you in a tight hug!

Nadia: Karma! I’m so happy you made it!

Karma: Are you kidding? The opening of your new art collection? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Nadia: Honestly, I have no idea how it blew up. But who am I to argue with the review of an art critic?

Karma: You mean glowing reviews from dozens of art critics?

Nadia: Oh, shush! Anyway, that’s not what I was excited about.

Karma: Then what is it?

Nadia: I want you to meet my boyfriend!

Nadia waves over a handsome man from across the room…

Nadia: Steve! Come say hi to my cousin!

Steve: Hey! You must be Karma! I’ve heard so much about you. I’ve been dying to meet you for weeks, but I’ve been busy at the animal shelter.

Karma: Oh! Do you work there?

Nadia: Steve’s an investment banker. But he volunteers at an animal shelter. Amazing, right?

Steve: Ah, it’s nothing. I’m just a guy who likes to do some good in his free time. Nadia here is the amazing one. The way her art makes me feel… It’s indescribable.

Nadia: Aww, sweetie!

Steve: Now, if you’ll excuse me, Karma, I’ve got to replenish the hors d’oeuvres. We’ll talk later! My mini-quiches are going fast!

Steve gives Nadia a kiss on the cheek and hustles off. Nadia sighs, beaming.

Nadia: Did I mention he bakes? He bakes. So… what do you think?

Karma: He’s too good to be true… what’s the catch? Comeon. Be honest. There’s gotta be something wrong with him. Secret criminal past? Crippling gambling debt?

Nadia: No! Nothing like that!

Karma: Then what’s your secret?

Nadia: I met him through a matchmaking service. They asked me some questions, then found the perfect man for me! They’re very exclusive. Super selective with their clientele. But I’m sure they’d accept you in a heartbeat!

Nadia reaches into her purse and hands you a business card.

Nadia: You should try them out!

Karma: True love, guaranteed? Sounds amazing. Sign me up!

Nadia: Yes! I was hoping you’d think so!

Karma: Are you kidding? It sounds great!

Just then, a voice calls to you from the crowd.

Damien: Looking good, Karma. Next time warn me when you plan to show up dressed like a celebrity. I would’ve brought my good suit.

Karma: Not so bad yourself, Damien.

Your good friend Damien saunters over, seamlessly switching his empty champagne glass with a fresh one from a server’s tray.

Damien: And don’t tell me Nadia has got you drinking this ‘matchmaking service’ Kool-Aid too. You of all people don’t need some fancy matchmaking service.

Karma: I’ll take that as a compliment. But you can’t argue with the results. Steve seems like a catch.

Damien: Yeah, I talked to Mr. Perfect on the way in. Haven’t found any flaws or dark secrets yet. But give me time.

Nadia: Really, D? We’ve known you for like, four years. I thought you would’ve dropped the tough, cynical act by now.

Damien: I’m a private investigator. I catch liars and cheaters for a living. ‘Cynical’ is basically my job.

Nadia: Don’t listen to him, Karma. He’s like the Grinch when it comes to love. Eros is the best matchmaking service ever! I’ll schedule you an appointment for a consultation!

Damien: Yeah! A vague, secretive company providing little to no contact information… What could go wrong? Just keep your guard up, Karma… Maybe bring pepper spray, or hold your keys like a claw.

Nadia: Ignore him. It’ll be amazing! I know you’re gonna find someone perfect for you!

Karma: Can’t wait!

Later that week, you arrive outside the address Nadia gave you. A sleek, unlabeled complex towers above you…

Karma: (Okay, this is a little weird. Not so much as a logo on the door. But the address looks right…)

You push through the glass doors to enter a warm, inviting lobby. A stunning woman strides gracefully across the room, the steps of her heels echoing through the halls.

Cecile: Karma Park? My name is Cecile Contreras. I’m the Head of Matchmaking here at Eros. Welcome! You got here on the J train, didn’t you? I hope getting to the new Quincy Station wasn’t too much of a hassle.

Karma: Uh, thank you… How did you know--

Cecile: We’ve done our homework. Eros has been expecting you, after all. Your cousin Nadia gave you a glowing referral. I’m excited to begin. Please, follow me.

You follow Cecile through the pristine halls of Eros Incorporated.

Karma: I’m still a little overwhelmed by this whole thing. How can you guarantee true love?

Cecile: A good question. Love is a complex thing. But here at Eros, we’ve used the latest in behavioural science and technology to devise the most sophisticated matchmaking system in the world.

Karma: So you think you’ve got people figured out… with some algorithm?

Cecile: Your personality, your wants, your needs… All of that makes you unique, like a puzzle piece. But somewhere out there is a piece that fits flawlessly with you. An exact complement. A perfect match. Our technology helps sort through the pieces to find yours. Simply put, the human heart is precisely our expertise.

Karma: Really? Sounds like exactly what I need!

Cecile: So glad you feel that way! I can assure you, we’re just as excited as you are to help you find your match.

She leads you into a peaceful, softly lit room. A sweet, floral aroma and calming music fill the space around you.

Cecile: Welcome to our consultation room. This is where we’ll be conducting our Perfect Match questionnaire.

Karma: Is this the part where I tell you my middle name, my hobbies and where I went to high school?

Cecile: Nadia sent us the personality profile you filled out, so we already have the basic information we need. Today will be about finding out what you’re looking for in a match.

Karma: Oh… Okay… So why does this place look more like a day spa than a quiz room?

Cecile: Oh, I assure you, our questionnaire is more than just a quiz. It’s a comprehensive interview, monitoring not just your words, but your biorhythms, your excitement, your emotional engagement… As such, we want you to be perfectly at ease.

She invites you to sit on a reclining chair in the middle of the room, and instantly your mind drifts as you sink into the shockingly comfortable seat. Cecile sits on a chair beside you with a tablet in hand.

Cecile: Simply place your hand on the palm scanner, and we can begin.

You place your hand on the smooth surface of the chair’s arm. It hums and glows, and soon a soft chime sounds in sync with your own heartbeat. The lights in the room dims as your mind drifts, peacefully.

Cecile: Now, relax. Close your eyes… focus on the sound of my voice… and speak from your heart…

Cecile taps on her tablet. You hear her voice from a distance as your eyes close…

Cecile: First, some general questions. I’m going to show you six images. Tell me, which of these most closely resembles your preferred look in a match?

(Look 1)

Cecile: Wonderful. Next I have twelve brief questions. Please answer as honestly as you can…

One - When traveling abroad, your perfect match would rather take you… To a lively festival, bustling with locals.

Two - On a road trip with your partner, you’d prefer someone who… Trades anecdotes and engages in lively conversation.

Three - You’re transported into a fantasy novel. Which character is most attractive… A magnetic ruler, leading and inspiring the people.

Four - Who do you imagine your partner hung out with in high school… A close-knit group of friends.

Five - Your match appears in a dream with an animal companion. What kind is it… A fierce, wild hawk.

Six - Your partner is facing an unbeatable enemy. What strategy do they use… Fight dirty.

Seven - You have to be apart for a few months. Your perfect match… Sends you memes.

Eight - Your perfect match has just defeated a supervillain. What do they do next… Righteously condemn the villain’s action.

Nine - What would your perfect match give you for your birthday… Something they noticed you wanted but hadn’t asked for.

Ten - Your date orders cocktails for you at a bar. Which do they choose… A trendy new menu item that food critics are buzzing about.

Eleven - Your travel plans have fallen through. What does your partner do… They have you covered no matter what, backup plan and all.

Twelve - How would your partner clear out a building full of zombies… They devise a brilliant plan and execute it flawlessly.

Cecile: You’re doing wonderfully, Karma. We have enough to find you a suitable match, but first, I’d like to ask if there’s anything in particular you’re looking for… I’m going to list a few traits that your potential match may possess. Let me know if any of them resonate strongly with you. For those who prioritise physical intimacy, we have many candidates with massage skills. We can refine our search to animal lovers and pet owners, who are often compassionate and kind. If you’re drawn to creative, artistic souls, we can match you with musicians. Last but not least, many people seek the culture and intelligence of someone who speaks many languages. Which of these appeals to you?

Karma: The animal lover. My match must love animals.

Cecile: An excellent choice. Would you like to distinguish your preferences further? Remember, there’s no shame in being picky when it comes to love. You’re absolutely worth it.

Karma: I would like them to possess all of those qualities. Why settle for anything less?

The lights in the room brighten, and you are suddenly aware of your surroundings again. Cecile looks up from her note taking and smiles warmly at you.

Cecile: That concludes the questionnaire. Not so bad, was it? Based on your responses, we’ll determine which of our sixteen personality types best describes your Perfect Match. I’ll have your results in a moment…

Cecile taps on the tablet before turning it to show you the display…

Your perfect match is a… Leader - Outgoing, rebellious, sincere, loyal.

Brave, perceptive, and confident, the Leader is often turned to in times of crisis. As a romantic partner, this perfect match’s charisma can inspire in even the most challenging of times.

Karma: Wow. Just like that? This is just my type! I’d love to find someone like this.

Cecile: Glad to see that the system is working as intended!

Karma: So… What next?

Cecile: Next? Simply leave the rest to us. We’ll find the most compatible partner for you in our database and arrange your first date. You’ll be hearing from us soon!

Karma: Sounds like a plan. And what happens after that?

Cecile flashes you a wink.

Cecile: Why, true love, of course.

You step out of the Eros building into the brisk night air, the New York City skyline towering above you.

Damien: Made it out of the Mystery Company in one piece, huh?

Karma: Damien? What are you doing here?

Damien leans against his old muscle car, pulling his jacket tight against the cold.

Damien: Check your phone, lovebird. I called you a couple times. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t joined a cult, or bought a timeshare or anything… And also offer you a ride home.

Karma: Oh, really? You just wanted the dirt on this Mystery Company, huh?

Damien smiles.

Damien: Wow… You know me too well, Karma. Come on.

Soon, you’re watching the city lights streak by through the passenger window of Damien’s car as you catch him up on your day.

Damien: So, really… this Eros thing. You’d think you’d just swipe left and right like the other apps. Not, you know, go to a day spa for a fancy interview.

Karma: Maybe it’s a little… unconventional, but it seemed legit to me.

Damien: Unconventional is an understatement. But hey, whatever makes you happy.

Damien pulls the car to a stop outside your apartment building.

Damien: … I actually mean that too. I want you to be happy.

Karma: Oh really? No sarcasm this time? No snarky retort?

You catch Damien’s eye as a slight smirk spreads across his face…

Damien: Despite my unflappably cool facade… I do have the capacity to care about someone. Occasionally.

Karma: Don’t get sappy on my now, Damien.

Damien: Wouldn’t dream of it.

One afternoon that weekend, you’re lounging in your apartment when a knock sounds on the door. You open it to find…

Nadia: Karma! I’m guessing you haven’t left your apartment today.

Karma: What makes you say that?

Nadia: Because if you stepped outside, you would have noticed this on your doorstep!

Nadia hands you a pristine display of flowers with an envelope attached! You open the card inside…

Karma: It’s from Eros! ‘Dear Karma, True love awaits! We’ve found someone special for you, and have already arranged your first date. At the end of the night, we’ll survey you both separately. If you both feel a connection, you’ll be declared a Match! You need only come with an open heart… and leave the rest to destiny.’

Nadia: Well, I came here hoping to ask how your appointment went, but I guess I have my answer! I remember when I got my letter from Eros…. I was so excited. This is gonna be amazeballs! Right?!

Karma: I think it’s going to be great!

Nadia: You’re right! It is! Positive thoughts, Karma! Send that out into the universe! This match they’ve found for you is your destiny!

Karma: Let’s hope so. The details on the card say that Eros has scheduled our first date… For tonight!

Nadia: Wait, what? We’ve got to get you ready!

Soon, Nadia is leading you on a last minute shopping trip. She pores over the card from Eros as you browse through outfits.

Nadia: Tonight could be the start of your beautiful, perfect love story, Karma! You’ve got to make a good impression! Luckily, Eros has you covered!

Karma: What do you mean?

Nadia: This card from Eros includes some style suggestions based on your Perfect Match’s taste! Perfectly tailored to impress him!

Karma: They can do that?

Your cousin pulls an outfit from the rack…

Nadia: This one! It fits the suggestion perfectly! Try it on!

Karma: Alright, alright…

Nadia: Ugh, slay, Karma!

Karma: I’m guessing that’s a good thing?

Nadia: Good? No. That outfit is perfect!

As the afternoon goes on and the sun starts to set, you finish prepping with Nadia… when a sudden knock at the front door sounds! You hurry over to the living room with Nadia in tow!

Nadia: Ohmygod, ohmygod… He’s here! Answer it, quick! Tonight will be the start of your beautiful storybook romance!

You try to calm your cousin as you open the door..

Karma: Relax, Nadia. It doesn’t have to be a ‘storybook romance’. No one is expecting this night to be--

Hayden: Hi, I’m Hayden. You must be Karma…

Karma: I… Um… Wow.

Thoughts on the episode…

Okay well first of all… creepy and suspicious as hell. I can’t believe Damien was the only one who was like… ‘what on earth…’ Everything about this screams dodgy. How did Nadia even find Eros in the first place? I mean, for our MC, sure - we have Nadia’s results convincing us to do it (even though Steve is a freaky robot and we can tell straight away,) but what did Nadia have? She just went for it.

Speaking of Nadia, annoying. I would love to just cut her out of the story completely. She’s too BLLURGGHHH, you know? So enthusiastic about absolutely everything. I can’t imagine what her art looks like. Probably really cheesy, basic stuff like Thomas Kinkade. Nothing edgy or cool. You could definitely buy a snowglobe with Nadia’s artwork in it.

I know that Hayden is a robot, but defo gonna smash. Like. He’s our perfect match, wiring or not. I mean, I know that Damien is there too and as soon as we get the option to seduce I shall absolutely be doing that because he is a fine piece of cartoon ass, but… where’s the fun if I can’t doodly do with the robot?

Also, shoutout to Cecile who is the hottest character at first glance I have ever seen from Pixelberry. I mean, I know she’s probably an evil lunatic hell bent on destroying us once we uncover Eros’ secrets, but still. I’m shallow and she’s hot.

Fave Character of the Chapter: Damien

Least Fave Character of the Chapter: Nadia

[philsdrill]

Chapter 30: Intimacy

Fic Summary: “Everyone had a link with their soulmates, some could hear some of their partners thoughts, some had a tattoo that would appear with their partners name; for me, I knew when they got sick.” For a while Phil has thought that his soulmate might have an eating disorder and doesn’t expect to meet him in the restaurant where he works.

Genre: a lot of fluff, recovery, really fucking domestic, waiter!Phil

Warnings: eating disorders, anorexia, bulimia, hospitals, panic attacks, references to past abuse, mentions of suicide, mentions of self-harm, a lot of awkwardness, small amounts of smut. This is potentially triggering so for your own sake, please think twice about reading if anything this might affect you.

Disclaimer: I don’t have personal experience with eating disorders, but have done some research. If I have anything about them wrong, feel free to send me an ask and I’ll sort it out.

Word Count (for this part): 6.4k

[Uploads will be hopefully every couple of weeks! (follow @philsdrill-updates to hear when I post)]

A/N: I hate that this took me more than three weeks, but uni work really takes up a lot of my time.

MASTERPOST

<= Previous Chapter

Dan’s POV:

We’d had a quiet few days since the night of the fire alarm and other less mentionable activities and today was Adam’s birthday. Tonight, Phil and I were taking Ethan and him out for a meal to celebrate. There was an unwritten rule between Phil and I, that I chose where we ate, but tonight I was letting Adam have the say.

It turned out that he was fairly easy to please and picked out a chain Italian restaurant. I realised about ten minutes after I agreed to this, that Phil may not actually be happy with the choice. This was where we’d eaten the night his lactose intolerance really hit him in the face. I’d need to consult him.

Phil, being fairly lenient, told me that this was fine, he’d just do what he’d been doing since he was diagnosed and choose his meal carefully.

Neither Adam or Ethan had any fancier clothes with them, so while Phil and I were in button-ups for the special occasion, they remained in t-shirts. They had showered separately and I had supervised Ethan shaving in our bathroom while Adam was in the shower.

We’d had a little discussion then, about heading out for this meal and they wanted to do anything afterwards.

“Do you and Adam want to do anything after dinner? Go to the cinema? Just have a quiet night in?” I had asked him.

Ethan was quiet for a few moments before giving me a response.

“Just come back here,” he’d said, pausing and turning a little pink, “I’ll be honest with you, we’re thinking we might actually… have sex. I’m ready, Adam thinks he’s ready, but we thought we could wait until his birthday as it was so close.”

“Awwhh cute,” I’d said, smiling, genuinely happy for them. “How about… I’ll need to ask Phil… but we could bring you guys back here, then the two of us go to the cinema. My first time was nerve-wracking as it was, without having to think about people in the next room.”

“That would be good,” Ethan had nodded, hopefully.

“I’ll go and ask Phil,” I’d told him, “I’m trusting you for two minutes alone.”

I left Ethan in our bathroom, knowing that he was in quite a good place today so he wasn’t too likely to do anything silly with his razor. I found Phil in the kitchen, where he was putting away the dishes from making Adam’s birthday cake earlier in the day.

“I’ve been talking to Ethan,” I explained, “And I’m proposing that we give him and Adam some time alone here later. We can drop them off and then go to the cinema or visit your parents or something?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Phil had agreed, “Which would you like to do?”

“Well you haven’t seen your parents in a while, so about we go see them,” I had suggested, knowing that they meant a lot to Phil and he was probably missing them.

Phil was pleased at this, at immediately phoned to check that his parents would be in later. They would be, so he kept the phone call short, with the promise we would be round later to talk in person.

I returned to the bathroom to find that Ethan had finished shaving and was now drying his face. When he lifted his face out of the towel, I knew he’d been fine alone, as he still looked cheerful, excited for our meal out.

Once we were all ready, we put on our coats and headed down to the car. The restaurant was a little further than Phil’s work, but still not too far away. We got taken to our table immediately when we arrived; booking earlier in the day had given us an advantage. Phil and I sat at one side of the table and Adam and Ethan sat at the other. I didn’t know what was standard practice for two couples having a dinner date of sorts, but it seemed like a comfortable arrangement.

Phil was pleased to find that the menu was marked out with dairy free options, meaning he had no need to ask. He picked out a tomato based pasta dish, Ethan and I both went for lasagne and Adam had what turned out to be a rather huge pizza.

Everyone was enjoying their food, myself included, but it got to a stage where I started to feel bad about eating it because of how good it tasted. To some, that might make no sense, but I knew there would be unhealthy things making it taste good and a small ball of anxiety was starting to grow in my chest as a result.

As I put my cutlery down, marking myself finished, Phil looked over at me in confusion. “But you’re enjoying it?” he questioned, probably puzzled to why I was stopping so soon.

“I know, but I’m starting to feel anxious about eating any more, so I think it’s best for me to stop,” I explained.

“Okay,” Phil nodded understandingly, lightly patting me on the back, “You did a good job anyway. Well done.”

--

Phil’s POV:

Dan had left quite a bit of his lasagne, but he’d done well and I understood that he didn’t want to eat any more. It was no surprise to me that when the dessert menu came around, Dan didn’t even open it. He would eat biscuits and the odd little treat at home now, but even I was unsure he’d handle the richness of some of these puddings.

There wasn’t a big selection that I could actually eat; most of them were ice cream based, or contained cream or milk chocolate. My selection was limited to either lemon or orange sorbet, or dark chocolate and raspberry cake. I went for the lemon sorbet, despite part of me wanting the chocolate cake, I knew I wouldn’t have room for it after all that pasta.

Ethan and Adam had an ice cream sundae to share, the big brother of the one I had had the last time I was here. I was a little jealous of it, but I knew I would spend the evening regretting it if I had one myself.

Dan was watching us eat our desserts, his face expressionless, but I could tell there was anxiety and a tad of jealousy hidden behind the mask. I knew from past occasions, that he wished he could eat desserts with no regrets, but he still wasn’t in the right place to manage that. I wasn’t too concerned about the mild anxiety symptoms he was showing, until he got up to go to the bathroom.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Dan had told me, wringing his hands together anxiously.

Instead of just saying ‘okay’ like would be normal, I froze, my subconscious telling me to go with him. I thought about it for a couple of seconds and decided that no, I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to show Dan I did trust him and let him go by himself, but I would ask him if he was feeling okay first.

“Are you feeling okay?” I asked softly, giving him a knowing look that would tell him I knew he was feeling a bit anxious.

Nodding, Dan replied, “I just need to get out of here for a couple of minutes and splash some water on my face.”

“Okay,” I said, letting him go, “You go do that, but let me know if you need me.”

Dan still wasn’t back by the time we had finished our desserts, which was starting to get me worried. It must’ve been about ten minutes, maybe even fifteen. I knew he hadn’t been making himself sick, but he could be having an anxiety attack for all I knew. I decided to go and check he was okay.

I found Dan sitting on the counter by the sinks, doing some very focused breathing.

“Dan,” I said, softly, trying not to startle him, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed away from all the food for a couple minutes,” Dan explained, “I was feeling a bit anxious.”

“You’ve been here nearly fifteen minutes,” I informed him, “Nothing wrong with that, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dan nodded, “Honestly.”

“I believe you,” I told him, gently testing the waters of his okayness by gently squeezing his upper arm.

When Dan just leaned into me, I took that as permission to give him a hug. I brought my arms around him, but loosely enough that he’d still have space to breathe.

“We’re done now, so do you want to come back?” I asked him.

“Okay,” Dan nodded, resting his head against my stomach.

I gave Dan a hand up, then took his hand as we headed out the toilets.

“Did you take your medication?” I asked him casually as we made our way back to the table.

“No, it’s in my coat,” Dan said, shaking his head.

“Do you think you should take it?” I asked; although I was pretty sure the answer would be no, I wanted to make sure.

“No I think I’m good,” Dan said, “I would’ve texted you if I needed it.”

“Okay, good,” I nodded, “I’m glad you’re okay. We’ll get the bill and then we’ll head.”

It took me a few minutes to catch the eye of a waiter, despite being one myself, I hadn’t really got any better at this. Dan paid, insisting that he should be the one doing it as it was his brother’s birthday. We both knew though, that at the end of the day, it wouldn’t make any difference because we shared everything, money included.

When the bill was paid, the four of us, filled with food, headed out to the car. I drove back to the flat, where Dan passed his key over to Adam to let them get in without us.

“We won’t be back before eleven,” I told them, wanting to give them the assurance that we wouldn’t be invading their privacy too soon, “So that gives you nearly three hours to yourselves.”

“Thanks,” Adam said, both of them with a genuine smile on their faces.

Dan and I hovered for a minute in the carpark, to make sure they had got into the building okay, then I drove us to my parents house. My mum greeted us both with big hugs, then took us through to the living room where we said hello to my dad.

My mum quickly disappeared into the kitchen, which didn’t surprise me. She was probably trying to be hospitable; I think the need to make sure that everyone was sufficiently fed and watered was something that ran in the blood.

She arrived back with a tray of four steaming mugs, laying it down on the coffee table. Her hand resting on the milk jug, she looked over at Dan, “Dan, how do you take your coffee again?”

“Uhhh...” Dan hesitated, clearly put off by her presumptuousness, “I can’t have coffee.”

“Oh gosh, sorry, I’d forgotten,” my mum said quickly, clearly horrified at her mistake, “Would you like some tea instead?”

“That’d be good thanks,” Dan said, with a timid smile.

My mum passed out coffees to my dad and I, then headed back to the kitchen, letting Dan know that she’d just be two minutes with his tea. When everyone was settled with their hot drinks, we had a nice conversation. It wasn’t about anything in particular, but it was nice to just chat and catch up with each other. Everyone was very relaxed and even Dan seemed quite at home.

Eventually, my dad kept falling asleep and I was starting to feel tired too. Dan looked on the brink of nodding off, so I knew that was our signal to go. It had passed eleven, so we had given the boys the promised time alone.

I waited for an appropriate gap in the conversation, then interjected with an, “I think we should get going soon.”

It was a few minutes before this took effect, but eventually we managed to get out of our seats and to the front door, with my mum attempting to keep us longer. Before we left, we received even tighter hugs than those we had on arrival, my mum telling us that she missed us and wanted to see both of us more often. I’d be lying if I said that hadn’t brought a few tears to my eyes, and I knew as we headed back to the car that I needed to make more effort to keep in touch with my family.

I let Dan drive us home, taking a few minutes to dry my eyes and put a reminder in my phone to organise to meet up with my parents more often. I used to meet up with them for coffee quite often, but I had fallen out of the habit recently.

When we got back to our flat, we paid careful attention to being quiet, in case Adam and Ethan were asleep already. The door to their room was shut and we couldn’t hear anything, so they probably were.

Dan and I got ready for bed, but didn’t go to sleep immediately, making the most of a little alone time first. We didn’t do anything especially sexual, unless you counted removing our pyjamas to cuddle that little bit closer. I wasn’t generally the biggest fan of sleeping naked, but I knew Dan often craved that physical contact and I was feeling quite open to it tonight.

With Dan snuggled right up against me, I felt content, starting to understand slightly why he loved this so much. This nakedness was intimate, but not inherently sexual. I was used to only being this close to him in the heat of the moment, but I felt like this brought us that little bit closer. I knew Dan was putting a lot of trust in me to be with me like this, given his body confidence issues, so it meant a lot.

“You’re so beautiful,” I mumbled to him, wanting to let him know I felt that way, even if his insecurities aren't making themselves known at the moment.

“Thanks,” Dan mumbled, “And you are too. Thank you so much for doing this… Being this close makes me so…”

Dan trailed off, sounding a bit choked up.

“Emotional?” I finished for him, bringing my arms a bit tighter around him for a bit of support.

“I was gonna say happy, but yeah,” he mumbled.

Used to Dan’s occasional sporadic tears, I held him close until he regained control of his emotions. We relaxed after that, making the mutual agreement that now we would go to sleep. For once, I didn’t let the exposure bother me. With Dan by my side and a duvet as protection, I could do anything.

--

Dan’s POV:

In the morning, it took Phil a minute or two to decide whether to put on pyjamas or clothes. In the end, he followed my lead and went for something in between. We weren’t planning much today so it wouldn’t matter. The two us headed to the kitchen to have breakfast; we made no effort to be quiet, but we didn’t go to wake Adam and Ethan up, knowing they might need some privacy.

We’d finished eating, but remained at the table chatting and finishing our drinks, when Adam walked in. He was in his boxers, which made both of us do a double take, as he normally wore pyjamas. He definitely looked like he’d had sex last night, and was in need of a shower.

“Uhh… Dan, could I speak to you for a minute?” he asked, looking a little unsure of himself, “In private.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, getting to my feet, “Let’s go to the office.”

I guided Adam into the office, in front of me and shut the door behind us. Adam took a seat on the desk chair and took a moment to collect himself before speaking to me. I knew what was coming, but I wanted him to be able to talk about it in the way he wanted to.

“Dan… we… Ethan and I did it last night…” he said, stumbling over his words slightly and turning a bit pink.

“I guessed… You look a bit dishevelled,” I chuckled, “How was it?”

“Good, really good, it's just he’s a bit sore and I wanted to ask what’s the best thing to do, like paracetamol or something?” Adam asked, sounding quite relieved to have got this off his chest.

“That’ll help, yeah,” I nodded, “Also, a little massage could help. You don’t need to be an expert; just get him to tell you what feels good. A bath is always a good shout; eases any pain and gets you both relaxed and cleaned up.”

“Umm, but it's just a shower in the bathroom?” Adam said, looking a tad confused.

“Oh gosh, so it is…” I said, realising that the bath was in mine and Phil’s ensuite. “Ahh… give me five minutes and I’ll go and get Phil and I’s bath sorted out.”

Adam started to reply, “You don’t need to...”

“Special treat, as it’s both of your first times,” I cut him off, “I’ll run the water in for you, but I won’t put any bubbles in, you should check those with Ethan first.”

“Thanks,” Adam said, a grateful smile growing on his face.

“If he’s still feeling a bit sore after the bath, we’ll give him some ibuprofen with his breakfast,” I suggested, “Make sure you communicate about that and one of you let me know.”

“Okay,” Adam nodded.

“Right, I’ll go and get Phil and we’ll make sure the bathroom is tidy,” I told him, “Go get your towels and clothes and whatever you need.”

Adam and I parted ways; I returned to the kitchen to let Phil know what was happening, “You want to help me tidy our bathroom? Ethan’s a bit sore so I’ve offered them use of the bath.”

“Yeah sure,” Phil said, getting to his feet, “They did it then?”

“Yup,” I nodded, as we walked along to our room, “It was kinda obvious from how Adam looked, but he wanted to let me know and well… ask about aftercare.”

Phil gave the bath a little clean, making sure the it was free from any hairs or dirt. I put away medicines and toiletries that had gotten spread across the bathroom. I knew we wouldn’t need to worry about Ethan doing anything with Adam around, but I wanted the place to be tidy for them.

When the two minute tidy and clean was done, I started some water running into the bath and sent Phil to let them know it was ready. Adam and Ethan arrived a minute later, Ethan walking a little finny and Adam carrying their towels and clothes.

“There’s nothing in there at the moment,” I said, gesturing to the bath, “I don’t want Ethan having an allergic reaction again, but you can have a look through our bath bombs and bubble baths and see if there’s anything suitable.”

I opened up the drawer of bubble bath and bath bombs and invited them to take a look through it, “I’ll leave you to it now. Hopefully this should help.”

Phil and I left them in peace, retreating to the living room to give them space.

“They looked happy,” Phil commented, “Maybe a little tired, but happy.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I think that’ll be good for them, to finally have that level of intimacy. You know that was a big step in our relationship. I know we’ve had different issues to get around than they have, but it brought us so much closer and I think that’s what they need right now.”

“And I’m glad we gave them the time alone last night,” Phil added, “Like they’re going to be navigating around your parents soon, so I’m glad they got this chance otherwise it might have been a lot more difficult for them.”

“I’m going to speak to my parents when we take them down,” I told Phil, “Not too much detail, but just to let them know that Adam and Ethan are sexually active. I think it's better that they’re aware, so they make sure to knock before they enter and all that.”

“Mmm,” Phil nodded, agreeing, “I hope they don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I’ll make sure they don’t,” I said firmly, “I’ll make that explicitly clear to them, that I don’t want them being unnecessarily nosy or prying into what's private. They wouldn’t like Adam or I trying to find out details about their sex life, so hopefully they’ll understand.”

--

Eventually, Adam and Ethan emerged from our bathroom, looking all cosy and pink in the face, dressed in comfortable clothes. Phil encouraged them to help themselves to breakfast and after a nod from Adam, I looked Ethan out some ibuprofen.

When they were finished and had their dishes put away, Adam came over to the sofas with a question for me and Phil, “So, umm, could one of you maybe show me how the washing machine works?”

“Yeah, of course,” Phil said, getting up, “Go and get what all you want to wash and meet me there.”

I watched as Adam and Ethan disappeared to their room, then a minute or two later, reappeared with their arms bundled with sheets. They joined Phil in the kitchen, over by the washing machine. I couldn’t see what was going on from where I was sitting, but I listened to Phil’s little washing machine tutorial.

“So we’ll turn the knob to this mixed load option. That’s always a reasonable choice. We’re gonna press this to turn the spin speed down a little, otherwise it shakes to much and probably annoys the downstairs neighbours… and we usually do aqua plus to make sure everything is rinsed properly… so Ethan, that’s probably a good idea for you with your skin being sensitive to some soaps.”

I heard the washing machine rumble to a start, then a couple of moments later, the three of them emerged from the kitchen. Phil had one thing to say on the topic of washing, “Now, I’m hoping you’ll remember how to do all of that. If you feel your sheets need washed, you can just wash them… and Adam, hopefully your mum’s washing machine is similar, because you guys might be wanting to wash them yourself, rather than letting your mum discover… uhh certain substances.”

I laughed at Phil’s awkwardness to lighten the mood, “Yeah and I’m sure mum’ll appreciate you taking that job off her hands.”

Phil looked out some clean sheets for them to put on the bed, as the ones in the wash might not be dry in time. Making up the bed became another task that Adam and Ethan took on together, but then they never really left each other's’ sides. The morning turned to afternoon and the day continued to pass fairly uneventfully. Ethan and Adam had taken up playing video games on our various consoles, Phil was working on his application for cooking school and I to and fro-ed between Phil and doing some tidying and cleaning.

It was later in the afternoon, when Ethan came to me for a bit of advice. Adam had gone to the bathroom and Ethan took this an opportunity to come and see me for more painkillers. He came into the office, where I was sitting with Phil. Ethan wasn’t bothered by Phil’s presence and openly let me know that he was feeling a bit sore again.

“What kind of pain?” I asked softly, “Stinging? Or sore muscles down there?”

“Sore muscles,” Ethan nodded.

“Yeah, they won’t be used to that action, but they’ll get used to it in time,” I nodded, understanding what he was feeling. “Wait here and I’ll go and get you some more ibuprofen.”

I went to the kitchen and returned with ibuprofen, a snack and some water. I knew he wouldn’t have an empty stomach, but I would still rather he took them with something to eat. Ethan ate the snack, then swallowed the pills like a pro. Prescription medication got you used to pill swallowing eventually. At first, when I started antidepressants for anxiety, I struggled a lot with swallowing the pills. It didn’t help that my gag reflex was so sensitive. However, the only time that inability to swallow pills bothered me now was when I was mid-anxiety attack.

“Maybe go and lay down on your front for a bit” I suggested to Ethan, lightly patting his back, “And let one of us know if you need anything else?”

“Okay, I’ll go do that,” Ethan nodded, “Uhh... though could you maybe come with me until Adam’s out the bathroom?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, getting up and following him through to his room.

I didn’t comment on Ethan’s request, but he clearly wasn’t comfortable being alone with himself at the moment. He wasn’t particularly showing any major signs of his depression at the moment, but with it being a mental illness, it didn’t show all that much. There were little telltale signs he was feeling down, like his slight trembling when he moved and the lack of a smile in his eyes.

He laid down on the bed and let out a sigh. I took this acknowledgement of his as a sign I could ask him how he was doing.

“Something wrong?” I asked softly, not wanting to put him on edge.

“Not really, just feeling a bit low,” he told me, “It’s hard to explain, I just don’t feel happy right now and I’m kinda tired. I know I should be happy because Adam and I had such a good time last night, and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy about that… but I’m just not happy in general… and it’s not that I’m incredibly unhappy, I’m just not happy enough to count as happy.”

“I think I kinda get where you’re coming from,” I nodded, trying to be understanding. I got a bit of what he was saying, but couldn’t fully understand, “Lie down and get some rest and even if you still feel tired afterwards, you’ll at least have the comfort of knowing it was good for you.”

“Mmm,” Ethan nodded, sitting down on the bed, then laying down and rolling over onto his front.

Adam came back a minute or two later and I briefly explained to him what was happening, “He was feeling a bit sore again so I’ve given him some more ibuprofen and I’ve suggested he lays down on his front for a bit. D’you maybe want to stay with him?”

“Yeah of course,” Adam nodded, getting up onto the bed and sitting next to Adam, resting a hand on his back.

“Yeah, I uhh… I’d kinda like some company,” Ethan told him, “I’m feeling a bit low at the moment.”

“I get you,” Adam nodded, “It’s not awful, but I’m feeling it too.”

“I’ll leave you guys alone, but Phil and I are just next door if you need anything,” I told them, wanting to assure them that there was support if each other wasn’t enough.

--

When I went to get the two of them for dinner, I found that Ethan was fast asleep and Adam was lying next to him, looking deep in thought.

“Dinner’s ready,” I told Adam quietly, “What are you thinking about?”

“School,” Adam responded quietly.

“Are you worried about what you’re missing?” I asked, knowing that could be something that was bothering him.

“Yeah, like I’ve missed quite a bit this year. I keep thinking I’ve caught up and then I find there’s things I don’t know and I’m missing more at the moment…” Adam explained, trailing off when he ran out of thoughts to explain.

“I think mum said she’d asked the school to keep track of it at the moment?” I said, wanting to confirm this with him.

“Yeah, she has, so that’ll help a lot, but it’s still going to be a lot for me to catch up on,” Adam explained.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “It’s probably not much consolation, but I believe in you. You’re generally good at getting over these sorts of hurdles.”

“Thanks,” Adam mumbled, sounding unconvinced.

“And I don’t know how much help he’ll be, but Ethan did AS Maths and English last year,” I reminded him, “He might be able to help you with some of it, especially as he’s not going to have any school work to worry about until September.”

“That’s a good point,” Adam nodded, looking slightly more cheerful, “I’ll ask him about that.”

“D’you want to wake him up and then come through for dinner?” I said, getting back to why I had come to speak to him in the first place.

“Okay, we’ll be through in a minute or two,” Adam said, turning to gently shake Ethan to start waking him up.

I left them to it and returned to the kitchen, where Phil was finishing plating up the food. I would’ve helped him to carry them through, but he required no such help with his waiter’s ability to carry four plates at once. Instead I started making ribena, knowing that everyone would be happy enough to have that to drink.

Phil and I sat down and were about to get started eating when Adam and Ethan emerged from their room and walked down the hallway towards us. Ethan looked very tired, but to be honest I expected that.

Ethan looked quite glum as he joined us at the table and I could see that Adam was being overtly loving towards him. After a moment or two, Adam gave us the explanation I was looking for.

“His depression kinda hit him in his sleep,” Adam explained, along with a slow nod from Ethan.

“Ahh,” I nodded, then directing a question at Ethan, “You feeling up to eating?”

“Kind of?” Ethan, said, sounding a little unsure, “I’ll certainly have some of it.”

“Okay,” I nodded, finishing that conversation there as I sensed he wasn’t really up for speaking or being spoken to.

--

Ethan and Adam had an early night, or rather they spent most of the evening cuddling in bed, because Ethan wasn’t feeling up to doing anything else. I discovered their cuddling when I went to ask Ethan a question from my mum. Some form she was filling in for him required his mother’s maiden name and that didn’t happen to be a piece of information that I knew about him. I found that they were both shirtless and under the duvet; in fact, they could’ve been completely naked but I didn’t need to know the answer to that. Ethan was wrapped in a rather loving embrace from Adam and he looked quite peaceful. He still looked tired and a bit down, but I think relaxing was taking the edge off it.

After finding out the answer to the question, I engaged in a little small talk, “Ethan, are you feeling a bit better now?”

“Mentally or physically?” he asked in response.

“How about both?” I prompted, really just wanting to know how he was feeling in general.

“Physically, yes. I've been relaxing and I think the muscle pain has gone now. Mentally, a little bit. Its helping me to have Adam here, to be this close to him, I feel less alone,” Ethan explained, shivering a little and snuggling a little deeper into Adam’s chest.

“Disadvantage of being shirtless is it can be a bit chilly,” Adam commented, rubbing his hand up and down Ethan’s chest.

Realising it was probably a bit far away for either of them to reach without ruining their cuddling, I grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed and passed it over to Adam, “I’ll leave you guys to it.”

“Dan, it's not as if we're gonna be doing anything?” Adam said, groaning.

“Yeah, but if I was sixteen and naked cuddling, I would be,” I said, laughing at Adam’s reaction.

“Dan, we're not naked,” Adam said, pulling duvet aside for a moment to reveal they did have pyjamas on further down, “We're keeping these on tonight. Ethan needs to rest.”

“I know, I know,” I laughed, “I’m just fulfilling my role as your brother and being a bit of a tease. Anyway, I will leave to it now, leave you to cuddle in peace. I’d better go and text Mum back before I forget.”

--

Later in the evening, when Phil and I eventually headed to bed, I approached him while he was getting changed and asked him if he was willing to sleep naked again.

“Umm not today,”Phil responded, a bit hesitantly, “Like I kinda liked it, but I'm not sure I'm in the mood tonight. How about a bath instead?”

I agreed to that, because that got me similarly close to Phil, gave me some of the skin contact I was craving, without him feeling uncomfortable. I knew Phil liked bathing together as much as I did, so that was a plus. Phil ran the bath and popped the bathbomb in, and when it was ready, we got in. As usual we had quite a relaxing time and I knew that even though I didn’t struggle too much with sleeping, this would let me sleep easier.

We put on pyjamas when we got out, or rather Phil put on pyjamas and I just put on the bottom half. Tonight I just felt like being close to Phil and I knew that extra couple of millimeters wouldn’t really make a difference, but it would in my heart.

As we cuddled in bed, Phil’s hands started to roam around my chest, but in a soft, caressing way, rather than anything sexual. I relaxed further into his touch and it briefly crossed my mind how just six months ago, having anyone near my bare stomach would have filled me with anxiety.

“I’m so much more comfortable with my stomach now and I’m happy about that,” I commented to Phil.

“I’m so proud of you, Dan,” Phil mumbled back, then took a breath and decided to continue, “I remember when we met it was such a big step for you to let me anywhere near your stomach. You’ve come so far since then. You’re so much healthier, so much stronger. Okay, you still suffer from anxiety, but you’re even doing better with that now. I can tell you’re much more comfortable with your body, and not just around me - you hold yourself with so much more confidence now. I’ve cared for you since even before I met you, but I remember that first night we got fully intimate and how many confessions of love we shared. Dan, I know it's only a formality and this is really spur of the moment but I love you so much, will you marry me?”

I was rendered almost speechless by how quickly Phil’s little exclamation of pride had turned into a life changing speech. I managed to choke out a ‘yes’, before burying my face in the crook of Phil’s neck and starting to cry with how overwhelmed I was. Phil brought his arms and legs firmly around me and held me until I managed to regain a little control. He began to kiss me, despite the tears still rolling down my cheeks. We both knew they were happy tears, and in that moment all we wanted to do was seal the deal with a kiss.

When we eventually broke apart, both our lips a little sensitive from the kissing, we settled into a more relaxed embrace. I focused myself on my breathing, both a little overwhelmed with excitement and a little out of breath. Phil must’ve realised what I was doing, as he slowly rubbed his hand up and down my back, in time with my breaths.

After a while, I finally trusted myself to speak, “I guess we have some planning to do now.”

“Yup,” Phil laughed, “But let’s not worry about that just yet. How about we enjoy being engaged for a little while first?”

--

When Phil and I had climbed into bed after a long, relaxing bath, I would never have expected the night to go this way, but soon it became one full of passion as we embarked upon a journey of love-making.

It wasn’t lustful in the slightest; it wasn’t focused on reaching a high as fast as possible. Instead, Phil and I went from slow grinding into gradual stretching, then I took Phil slowly as I adjusted to his size. It had been a while, but I think that only added to the meaning. It was relaxed but filled with such intense sensation that I was left shaking in Phil’s arms as he grabbed some wipes from his bedside drawer to clean us up.

“Sweet dreams, fiancé,” Phil said to me as we finally settled down and succumbed to sleep.

--

The next day, Phil and I went ring shopping. Neither of us were bothered that we hadn’t done it in the traditional way of Phil proposing with a ring. While in a lot of heterosexual couples, the man might go without an engagement ring, we both agreed that we’d like to have matching rings. After a lot of discussion and comparing different rings, we eventually settled on a plain one, a simple white gold band without any jewels. We would get them engraved on the inside as a little personal detail, but we didn’t need anything flashy. Although they were expensive, they weren’t extortionate and Phil and I were able to afford them out of our savings.

It took a couple of days to get the rings engraved, so waited until we had them to let our parents know. Phil and I exchanged our rings, then got Ethan to act as our photographer and take few photos. We’d been hesitant to stage a kiss right in front of him at first, but Ethan got quite into the role of photographer and eventually suggested this. We were quite glad he did in the end, because the photo we selected was one of our clasped hands with the rings in the foreground, with a shallow depth of field leaving Dan and I kissing slightly blurred in the background. We both sent this to our parents, captionless. They would get the message.

Next Chapter =>

[thatshankcallednewt]

The Maze Runner: High School AU - Gally: Together - Part 9

In case you missed Part One//Part Two//Part Three//Part Four//Part Five//Part Six//Part Seven//Part Eight

You’re at the diner as the time hits 2.05 pm. You walk inside, it’s quiet except for the few pairs of people having a late lunch. You realise that 2pm is the perfect time to eat out because most people have already eaten. You take your pick at a table, slide into the booth so your close to the window, and watch people on the street walk by as you wait for Gally.

When it hits 2.20 you consider texting him, but the door to the diner swings open. You watch from your seat as Gally walks in, freshly showered after practice; wearing his leather jacket.

He practically collapses on the booth opposite of you, “Sorry, practice ran over time this morning and then my car broke down.” He messes with his hair after shoving his bag to the side.

“Jeez, really?”

He chuckles, “She’s had it coming, I’ve been putting off fixing her up for a while.”

“You can fix cars?”

He almost looks surprised. “Of course I can. You know my Dad owns his own mechanic shop, right? I work there sometimes.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t know that.”

Silence falls between you two, and you notice Gally uncomfortably shifting in his seat as he stares down at the menu. You get the strange feeling of… awkwardness. And you’re not sure why, especially now. This boy has slept in your room, and you didn’t feel awkward then!  

“Is something the matter?” You ask, dropping your menu on the table for the moment.

“No… nothing’s the matter.” He shrugs as he says that, and then continues to stare at the menu.

“Are you sure? I mean, it might just be me but—

“I don’t really go out with people often, it’s been a while.” His eyes keep to the words on his menu as he continues to read. Or maybe just have something other than your face to look at. You think of Justin, and you wish you hadn’t. “So sorry if I’m… I don’t know…”

“It’s fine, I was just concerned if you were… maybe still upset with me?”

He smiles to himself it seems, “For the record, I’m not. But I just realised that I could totally use that against you in the future,” he looks up for a second, “Remember that time when you didn’t want people to know we were friends?”

You both laugh, almost outrageously, and the awkwardness subsides. Fades into the background until it vanishes completely. You both order your meals whilst chattering over everything; school, homework, awkward first dates. Life. And after a lot of pestering and pleading, Gally allows you to take a Snapchat of you and him together eating lunch. It’s inconspicuous however; subtle. He only gives you permission if his face isn’t in the shot, which is good enough for you. If nobody was in the shot at all, people might think you’re eating out by yourself and that just defeats the whole purpose of a Snapchat story update.

“So how much of that essay did you complete before handing it in?” You half-joke with him, but secretly you really want to know. You feel bad that the spat between you two kept you from tutoring him, and if he got a bad grade you know you won’t forgive yourself.

“I finished it all, surprisingly.” He takes a sip of his drink, “Must’ve had a good teacher,” he says with a wink attached, and you suddenly feel proud but also… something else.

“Did you get your grade back?”

He smiles, kind of smugly but you can also see genuine happiness. “B-.”

“Gally!” You shout in a sudden burst of excitement, “That’s awesome!”

He looks around at the other people in the diner with embarrassment written all over his face, but you don’t apologise because you totally have a right to be extremely proud of him. “From the D bracket to the B bracket? Seriously insane. I’m so proud of you!”

He smiles softly but a weird look crosses his face, only for a split second but you suddenly feel like you’ve said the wrong thing. You go to apologise, or ask if you said something wrong, but he speaks instead.

“It’s alright I guess.” He drinks the last of his drink and leaves enough cash on the table to cover both of your meals. You try to persuade him to let yourself pay for your half but he refuses, and then you both head off towards Gally’s house.

“I made it half-way before she just decided to die on me, typical.” He comments. “We’ll have to take the train, my Dad already came and picked up the car. Is that alright?”

You smile, “Course it is.”

Soon, after an interesting ride on the train, you’re back at Gally’s house. You remember the first time you walked in thinking this place was a little bit… abandoned. Now, you know why. When you climb the stairs and notice all the empty picture frames again, you think back to when you first noticed it and how strange you thought it was. Justin arises, and you understand. You understand why this place feels so empty. And you try to shake away that feeling.

You walk into the familiarity of Gally’s bedroom, and as you do he closes the door behind him. You drop your bag on the floor by his bed before you take a seat on the end of it, just like last time. You feel a sense of guilt again, about Justin. You wonder if you should tell Gally that you know. Would he be mad if you brought Justin up? Or would he be upset that you didn’t know before? You decide against it, bringing up someone’s passed loved one is never an easy task; and it would seem inconsiderate to bring him up now after the fight you both had.

You tug at your sleeves nervously, and watch as Gally drops himself onto the bed and then lays back, the mattress dipping with his weight, “Is it okay if we don’t jump back into studying just yet?” He mutters, a yawn presenting itself, “I think practice killed me today.”

You smile softly, stifling a bit of a laugh, of course Gally would hold out on studying until the last minute possible. “Sure.” You watch as he closes his eyes, the green disappearing under his lids. You watch as he breathes steadily, his chest rising and lowering in a soft rhythm. You think back to your first visit here, how the mysterious boy was so soft and gentle even then; even when you didn’t really know him at all.

His eyes blink open, slowly, and he finds yours, “You staring at me?”

You instantly frown and look away, a blush rising onto your cheeks, “What? No…”

Suddenly Gally slides over to edge of the bed slightly and gestures to the empty space next to him, “It’s a lot more comfortable over here.” Although you see his tiredness on his face, you also see a slight tinge of embarrassment.

You bite your lip as you think. Lying next to Gally? It’s harmless, right? It’s not like… it’s not like anything is going to happen. You trust Gally, and you’re surprised at how much you do. You scoot yourself over so you lie beside him, he closes his eyes and so do you. You think about the past few weeks and only just manage to stifle a sigh. It must have been the craziest few weeks of your life.

But you don’t want to think about it, not now. It’ll only lead to worry and concern, to Justin, to the man Gally talked to in the car, to Thomas saying how dangerous Gally is… You need a break from thinking about those things, so you try your best to shut your mind off. To sink into some peace from your own brain and the countless thoughts that constantly whir through it.

Silence floats by for a while, and its nice. You’ve never really had much silence on your own, there was always something at the back of your mind worrying you or irritating you. But you realise, in this moment, that Gally brings you this peace. Like the time at the picnic table where you listened to the album, somehow he seems to bring a pause to your life so you can replenish yourself. You love that he can do that.

You feel a slight change in the mattress, and hear as it groans slightly. It moves with changing weight, and you think nothing of it. But then you get a whiff of Gally’s scent, the one you know a lot more now... What once smelt like mystery and uncertainty now smells like familiarity and comfort, and you like that you’ve grown close to this boy. Even if Thomas thought to warn you against it.

You open your eyes and you find yourself staring right into Gally’s. He blinks for a moment, pinkness growing again on his cheeks. “Thought you fell asleep.”

You swallow, not feeling panicked or even nervous, “I could’ve… It’s so quiet. Totally not like my house.”

Gally frowns, “Your house is okay, I mean, you’ve got a whole level to yourself practically.”

You laugh a little, “Yeah, but, my parents are always cackling downstairs at the TV.”

Gally smiles at this as he remembers his night over, “Ah yes, that is true.”

You breathe in and out slowly, the tiredness that overcame you settling in. “I think I am actually kind of tired.”

Gally blinks, holding his eyes closed for just a moment before they open again, “So am I.”

You both lie there a moment longer, not closing your eyes. For some reason you don’t want to, and neither does Gally, so that makes you feel a little better. His hand moves from his side, and you feel his fingers softly glide over the side of your face. This intimacy… and affection is so unlike Gally, but you welcome it, and he knows you do by your smile.

Your skin feels electric after his touch, and once his hand is gone you notice your eager for more. And it frightens you a little, you didn’t expect this kind of feeling at all, but maybe that’s why it’s so prominent. You find yourself leaning in closer to him, and his hand now resting over the side of your waist.

You reach out your own hand to his face, you watch as his breathing quickens only slightly with your touch. You’re not too sure what you’re doing, or why exactly, but you know that this... whatever it is between you and Gally, is something new and exciting. You want more, and you feel that he does too.

But suddenly, a loud crashing noise startles you both so much that you’re apart in seconds. You sit up in his bed, and Gally leaps out immediately towards the window. He curses at whatever he sees and makes a run for it downstairs and out towards the front yard; you follow close behind him.

As you reach the front porch you see a group of people, maybe 3 or 4, making their escape away from Gally’s car. You don’t see their faces, as they’re mostly covered by dark hoodies. The scene in front of you ignites a sort of panic you wish you didn’t have to experience.

When you reach the car, it is not the same car you remember. The tyres are slashed, the review mirrors are broken and two of the windows are smashed inwards. You stare at the mess that was once Gally’s car with an open mouth and widened eyes.

Gally runs closer to the scene immediately. But you continue to stand where you are. Unsure of what to do or what to say.

“Shit!” He examines one side, and then the next, “Fucking shit fuck!”

“Gally?” You walk over to the other side of the car where he stands, hands around the back of his head. Your eyes immediately find what he’s looking at, the message spray-painted onto the side of his car: where’s our money?

You try to comfort Gally by placing a hand on his shoulder but he quickly shrugs it off and steps away from you, “This is bullshit!”

“Why…” You swallow your fear, “Why would anyone do this?” You turn to face him and ignore the images of mysterious men flashing through your mind or the dead body of Gally’s brother, you can no longer make assumptions. “What are you messed up in, Gally?”

He shoots a glare towards you, one you never thought you’d see from him. “It’s none of your damn business, Y/N.”

You bite the inside of your lip, the harshness in his voice hurts but you can’t just let him push you aside again. Again and again, he always does this. “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s any of my damn business; I’m not just going to piss off like usual. You’re telling me what’s going on, now!”

He stops pacing in front of the car, his shoulders drooping, “I can’t… I can’t do that.” Suddenly he crouches and then sits, his knees pulled in close to his chest. His arms rest over his knees as he stares at the message on the car. You feel your phone buzzing but you ignore the vibration that crawls down your leg.

You see the wetness in his eyes as he tries to wipe the tears from his face, so you find yourself sitting down beside him; arms wrapped around him and your head leaning on his shoulder. “But I want to help you, Gally. I want to help because I care.”

“I know you care,” he wipes his face again, “I don’t know why you do, but I know.”

You loosen your hold until only one of your arms touches his shoulders.

He clears his throat, “I’ve wanted to tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you so much shit but you’re so nice and you’ve got your own life, I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want my own crap to become yours, so please. Please just let it go.” His head rests in his hands in defeat, and his body shakes with the tears that spill down his cheeks.

“I’m not leaving. I’m not leaving until you tell me.” You sigh, “I’m thankful that you want to keep me out of whatever this is but sometimes, Gally, you just can’t take on everything by yourself.”

He hesitates, it’s clearly seen on his face and through his body language. He doesn’t want to tell you, but deep down he knows its time; if he wants you as a friend, he has to tell you. He begins, not really looking into your eyes, “When my brother died…”

[carry-on-kissing-snowbaz]

Cafe Conversation (4 Weeks of Fluff Day 8)

In this AU, Simon and Baz didn’t get together when they investigated Baz’s mother’s murder. Hope you enjoy! @4wksoffluff

Word Count: 1468

Simon

Penny was quite obviously annoyed with Simon. They were sitting at a table at a café and Simon was ignoring her completely. A few minutes ago he had spotted a man across the street with longish black hair and an incredibly familiar frame. Simon was almost certain it was Baz but it was too far away to be completely sure. 

“Simon who are you staring at?” Penny asked, cheeks red with frustration.

“Um, I don’t know…does he look familiar?” Simon asked.

Penny glanced in the direction he was looking.

“Does who look familiar? There’s like a million people sitting over there.”

Simon bit his lip. Now he wasn’t so sure it was Baz. He’d hoped Penny would immediately recognize him and reassure Simon that he was right. But if he was wrong he didn’t want to be accused of being obsessed with Baz, even if he actually was. 

“Oh I just thought I recognized the guy with the black hair,” Simon mumbled.

This time Penny turned and gave her full concentration. 

“Oh, you mean Basilton. Yeah I think that’s him,” Penny said.

“Oh,” Simon said, keeping his eyes averted.

Since they’d graduated Watford three years ago Simon hadn’t seen his former roommate ever again. It had been strange at first, no longer sharing a room with someone who’d always been there since he was eleven. Eventually he had gotten used to it, but it didn’t mean he’d stopped thinking about Baz. Over time he’d begun to question whether or not he’d ever really hated him or if it had been something else entirely.

Penny was studying him, a smirk on her face.

“Let’s invite him to eat with us,” Penny said.

Simon’s eyes widened, panicked.

“No! He looks like he’s already seated. Besides, he probably doesn’t even remember us,” Simon said.

Penny snorted.

“Baz was just as fixated on you as you were on him at Watford.”

“Shut up,” Simon hissed.

Penny stood up and grabbed her cloth napkin, waving it in the air like a signal.

“Hey Basilton! Yeah, you! Come over here and converse with your fellow alumni!” 

Simon knew his face was beet red, knew it but had no idea how to stop it. He couldn’t look up, couldn’t even speak, as Penny settled back into her seat and watched him triumphantly.

“You’re welcome,” She said.

“Excuse me?” Simon choked out.

Just then, Baz arrived at their table his expression amused but distant. He was wearing dark wash jeans and an expensive looking dark green sweater. His gray eyes seemed to spark against the hazy gloom of the morning. Simon felt his heart thump faster as Baz took a seat next to him.

“Ah, the Watford heroes. How’s life as a retired chosen one and side-kick?” Baz asked.

Penny huffed angrily.

“Side-kick? I’m the one who figured out how to get Simon’s magic back, I think I’ll settle for the brainy tech hero who helps the idiot brave hero in her spare time, thank you very much,” She said. 

Baz glanced at Simon and away.

“So he’s not a Normal after all?” Baz asked.

“I’m right here,” Simon mumbled.

“No he’s not and he’s a lot better at magic these days, now that he has a normal amount,” Penny said.

Baz, without looking at Simon, turned slightly in his direction.

“So how did you miraculously bounce back?” He asked.

“Agatha’s dad noticed that I still had some magical energy. It was really low and nothing I could really access but he assured me it meant I wasn’t a Normal. Then Penny spent some time with various energy spells and tried to channel it to my magic. Overtime I healed, not a big deal,” Simon said.

“Would have been easier with you Baz, what with your connection to Simon’s magic,” Penny said.

“A deal is a deal. He helped me find my mother’s killer and I, well I didn’t kill him. Nothing else was required of me,” Baz said. 

“I’m so glad we got to catch up,” Simon muttered. 

“Damn, they only have the fake sugar packets. I’m going to go ask for some real sugar, I’ll be right back,” Penny said.

When she left, the table went silent. Simon played awkwardly with the edge of his menu and glanced up at Baz. He made a noise when he realized Baz was already staring back at him. There was something in his eyes, something that told Simon not to say something stupid in that moment. Instead, he stared back without saying a word.

“Would it have really helped? Me having done the spells?” Baz asked.

“Probably,” Simon said.

“Do you think…do you think we’re still connected? I mean, to your magic,” Baz said.

“I don't know. I’m not sure if that was because of all the magic I had or if it was, I don’t know, an us thing,” Simon said.

“An us thing,” Baz repeated.

Simon swallowed nervously. His palms felt slick against his jeans and he didn’t know what to say. 

“Do you want to try it?” Baz asked.

“Try what?”

“Try to share it again…just to see,” Baz said.

Simon bit his lip.

“But we’re in public, won’t it be a little…?”

“I won’t do any spells,” Baz promised.

Simon wanted to tell him that it wasn’t scaring the Normals that he was afraid of but rather the intimacy of it. The last time they’d shared magic had been back in their room in Watford, away from the rest of the world. Simon wasn’t sure he wanted anyone, even Penny, to see them like that.

He reached across the table and grabbed Baz’s hand. He felt his heart jump and glanced up to see that Baz’s mouth had opened slightly, as if the physical contact had surprised him. His skin was just as he remembered it, smooth and a little bit cold. He tried to relax his mind, to push his magic out tentatively towards Baz.

Baz gasped.

“Penny…she said your magic was normal…” He whispered.

Simon looked away.

“Simon…are you sure this is safe?” Baz asked.

“I’m not what I used to be, not at all. There are no more holes. But whoever my parents were, they were powerful. I think I’m even stronger than Ebb.”

“So you were always meant to be made of magic,” Baz said, wonder in his voice.

Simon was about to ask what he meant by that when a waiter came and asked for their orders. Simon tried his best to remember Penny’s order and wondered where the hell she had gone off to find sugar. Baz seemed jittery, not able to shake off Simon’s magic.

“You’re right, it’s not nearly as strong as it was before. But it’s still intense,” Baz said.

Simon shrugged.

“Genetics I guess.”

Baz frowned.

“Is something wrong Snow? You’ve barely looked at me since I sat down,” Baz said.

“I could say the same thing to you,” Simon replied, voice defensive.

Baz clenched his jaw, looking torn.

“It’s not…I don’t think you’d understand,” He said. 

Simon made an effort to keep his gaze on Baz steady.

“Try me.”

Baz smiled briefly and then sighed.

“Simon I…I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time. I thought being away from you would help. That I could meet a nice guy in college and forget all about you but it hasn’t happened. And I don’t think it will,” Baz said.

Simon felt excitement flutter in his stomach.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I don’t expect you to do anything about it or say anything. But, you asked,” He said.

“Baz-“

“Really it’s not like you have to say anything, I get it.”

“Shut up,” Simon said.

Baz glanced at him in surprise.

“What?”

Simon leaned across the table and kissed Baz, a brief touch of lips, before settling back into his seat.

Baz blinked for a minute or so.

“Um…” he said.

“Yes?” Simon said.

“So uh, does that mean…”

“Would you please go on a date with me Baz? Maybe next Friday around seven?” Simon asked.

Baz nodded, cheeks slightly pink.

Penny ran over, clapping her hands excitedly.

“How exciting! You two have a date!”

“Where the hell have you been?” Simon asked.

“Getting the sugar, like I said,” Penny replied.

“So, where’s the sugar?” Baz asked.

She glanced down and swore.

“I uh, must have dropped it,” She said.

Baz laughed, his grey eyes crinkling around the corners. Simon couldn’t help but laugh too, especially given how red Penny’s face was. It was cold out, and they all had jobs they’d have to leave for soon, but Simon felt happier than he had in a long time. It seemed that the piece that had been missing from Simon’s life since he’d left Watford had finally come back to him.

[myhyyh]

To You | Chapter. 1

Ship: reader x Jungkook

Genre: romance, fantasy, school-life, smut, angst, fluff

Word Count: 5,428

You're the new girl in town. With a grieving past and uncertain future, your days repeat and trail on into the unknown. Love. Lust. Betrayal? You're soon to discover the city holds more than you imagined.

A/N: hello : ) I'm so excited to be sharing my first fanfic with you guys. it is a working process so I can’t exactly say how many parts are to come, though I am planning to drag this one out so sit tight andijustwanttoapologiseinadvanceforanyemotionaldistressthiscausesyoubyenow ^^

Hey. It’s me. It’s been a while… I messed up huh?

-

It’s mid-June, the train doors finally opened after what felt like a journey that would never end, the summer breeze instantly consuming me, but it wasn't the type I was used it. It wasn't like back home, in the countryside where the air was fresh and untainted. Here, it was thick and humid, filled with the scent of newly embedded cement and some other smell that screamed pollution, that’s the city for you; Seoul city.

The past few weeks, months, had been tough on me. At age 17 I was forced to bury my own parents, all by myself. “Huh,” I thought to myself. Almost a year has gone by, yet I’m still stuck in that moment. The pain in my chest as the nurse told me I was left alone in this world, that the only people in my life were now gone, forever. “Huh” I laughed out loud this time. It’s funny how 214 days can feel like a single moment that I’m still lingering in. I feel people shoving past me as they hurry off the train and I realized I’d been standing in everyone's' way, wallowing in my own feelings again.

Ever since the accident, I’d been living with my grandma, both mourning the death of my parents and relying on each other because… well, we're all each other had. I’d begged her to let me stay living with her but she insisted I move to the city that’s ‘full of opportunities’ and get a break from all this. She hated the way it all affected me, how it left me empty, my soul rotting. I hated it too, so giving in wasn't that hard in the end. Maybe a new start was just what I needed?

I had my own place here, but it wasn't anything fancy, just a typical one bedroom rooftop apartment. I could’ve afforded better but couldn't bring myself to ask grandma for too much. A part of me felt I was burdening her enough as it was. I know it's nothing like that but my own conscious wouldn't allow me to take more than I needed. I figured I'd get a part-time job to make ends meet while I attended my last year of high school here. Besides, from now on I'd need to learn how to depend on myself.

I took my time making my way to my new home, taking in my surroundings to familiarize myself. The last thing I wanted was to get lost in this big city. Coffee shop, hair salon, coffee shop, restaurant, convenient store, coffee shop, coffee shop. I internally cringed at how industrialized this place was. I knew from the start that I wouldn't like it but I also knew it didn't hurt to try either and walked into one of the many coffee shops.

The atmosphere was surprisingly calming. It was the combination of the lighting, interior decor and the smell of fresh brewing coffee in the air that allowed my nerves to simmer down for the first time all day. I managed to order something off the menu, some new special, not entirely knowing what it consisted of. I took my drink and looked for somewhere quiet to sit and rest my mind. ‘I made it,’ I thought to myself, but I knew the real journey had only just begun.

-

It’s been a couple of weeks now and I seem to have somewhat adjusted to my new life here. I even made a friend, Mina. She goes to the same school as me, School of Performing Arts Seoul, and I’m kinda grateful to her that I wouldn't be entirely alone when the year started. I met her at the park one day, her dog decided to run off and pee on me. Repeated apologies and bows turned into fits of laughter and, well, the rest is history.

It’s 8:46 pm, I hear a knock on the door that turns into a full on banging and I could tell who it was. Mina. She was coming over to pick me up for a ‘wild night out’. School was starting soon and she’s been meaning to introduce me to some of our classmates. I swung the door open with a disapproving "really” look on my face. “Do you have to do that every time?” I whined. “Yes, yes I do.” she plainly stated, passing by and plopping down on the sofa. “Well, you're late” “Oh relax! We have plenty of time before the club even starts to get lit, you don't wanna be early, surrounded by all those creepers again do you?” We both shivered in disgust at the thought of what happened the last time I urged Mina to ‘not be late’ to a club. “You're right.” I surrendered and headed back into the bedroom to finish putting my look together. “OMG Y/N, you won’t believe who’s coming today!” Mina practically screamed. “Umm let me guess.. the infamous super hot senior graduate you won't ever shut up about?!” I returned her energy with my own enthusiastic sarcasm. “Aaaahh!! I haven't seen Taehyung since he graduated back in May. He’ll be starting university in fall so I gotta win him over before all the uni thots hop on him.” she declared. “Easy tiger, you don't wanna scare him off do you?” “I mean, come on, it's about time. I’m a senior now and in the book that practically puts me on the same level as a uni freshmen, duh.” “What book?” I couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous she sounded. “Y/N focus, I’m on a mission tonight and I could use some moral support.” She popped her head in the bedroom to throw me a pout but it quickly diminished into an ‘O’ shape when she saw me. I wore a two-piece black lacy bralette and pencil skirt that stopped just at the top of my thighs, with a pair of thigh-high laced boots to finish the look. I may have not grown up in the city but fashion trends never failed to reach me. I didn't notice Mina gawking as I decided on a choker in the mirror when I heard her scream out, “SLAY BITCHH!” That got my attention. “How do I look?” I did a quick spin for her, letting her see every angle of me. “Ok. I almost dropped Tae for you.. fuck Y/N!” “Ugh shut up.” 9:04 pm. I threw my hair back over one of my shoulders and tucked it behind my ear, grabbed my black fur jacket and clutch and met Mina at the front door with a mental note.

Let's make this a night to remember.

-

The club was well hidden and kinda hard to find. At some point I just grabbed hold of Mina’s hand and let her lead the way, clearly, it wasn't her first time. She’d pretty much taken me to every club in Seoul apart from this one, Paragon. Apparently, the thing about this club was that it only opened for special events or when someone rented it out for personal use? Either way, it was pretty expensive, which got me wondering what could be so special about it? ‘As long as it’s not EDM’ was my motto so I pushed all pressing enquiries to the back of my mind. We got inside and I couldn't help but notice how friendly Mina was with the bouncers. She conversed with them for a while, and I let my eyes wonder around. The only thing between me and the club was a set of large gold lion embroidered doors with a bouncer on each side, yet the sound of the music was still so vivid. The beat was roaring and I could already feel it pulsating in my chest. It consumed me and left me urging to discover what was on the other side. I was broken from my trance by the sound of girls shrieking behind me at the entrance. 

“This isn't a place for kids, now go home”, one of the bouncers commanded. “Please! I just wanna see oppa please, please, please!” I turned around to a pair of actual kids pleading their way into a club.. why was I not surprised? Their attire made it so obvious that they were underage. Body-cons that looked over-sized on their premature bodies, over exaggerated heels that kept them stumbling, and don't even get me started on their make-up. “Mess”, Mina chuckled, grabbing my arm and guiding me forward into the unknown.

To my surprise, I was greeted by the ultimate form of luxurious nightlife, surrounded by raw crypt, lavished with sumptuous leathers and burnished copper, the club radiated an invigorating atmosphere. I looked around the space, taking in a range of differently designed rooms, each with their own special feature, achieving a unique environment out of the mix between past, present, and future. Original elements, such as dark stone, architraves and coving contrasted with modern, custom designed furniture, brushed and polished copper steel finishes and natural colors. The light design pleaded for an exceptional visual experience. Through it’s minimalist elegance and simplicity, I felt stimulated, a sense of exuberance. The creation blending intimacy and community, function and fantasy, art and design, resonating as one in this modern definition of luxury. For a moment I questioned myself if this was a place I was worthy of.

I felt Mina brush her cheek against mine, rushing something about going to get us drinks and I was pulled out of my trance. I watched her disappear into the crowd of people and contemplated whether it was a bad idea not going with her as I was now faced to stand awkwardly alone, in a place I felt I didn't fit into. I mentally shook my head, reminding myself that moving here meant I could start fresh. I was being ridiculous. No one knew me yet, apart from Mina, and seeing as I was going to meet my classmates and ‘potential' friends soon, now was not the time to be consumed in my introverted ways. Pep talk over, I forced my attention back to my surroundings. I looked around, trying to find some place or group that I could blend into. I couldn't help but notice how incredibly good looking everybody was. Seriously, it was like a room full of God’s best creations. A sudden nerve of panic washed over me like I was being watched. I tried to calmly look around for the source but my eyes moved frantically and I could feel myself caving under the pressure. I ventured out to search for Mina, pushing the pair of eyes on me to the back of my mind, if they wouldn’t disappear, I would.

My eyes finally fell on Mina and I willed my body to move in. I watched her deep in conversation with several figures. For a moment, I stopped, stunned by more than just their beauty. Their auras synchronized in emitting ethereal energy. I couldn't quite process it and found myself at loss for words. Something about them was so inviting, so nostalgic.. it kinda reminded me of my parents. Mina’s eyes found mine from across the circle, “Y/N, there you are, come here!” I stepped into them, instantly regretting it as I felt my anxiety almost reaching it’s breaking point now that all eyes were on me. I opted to calm my nerves by focusing on a familiar face and glued my eyes to Mina. I noticed her arm interlocked with a tall, beautiful man, and when she caught my eyes drift to him, she took initiative to introduce us.

“Y/N, this is Taehyung, Taehyung, Y/N.” I could see the excitement dancing in her eyes as she presented her infamous crush, and everybody else fell back into the current of conversation around us. “Y/N just moved here this summer alone and she’ll be attending senior year with me at SOPA.” She finished, causing Taehyung to narrow his eyes on me. “Alone?” he asked, his face reading curiosity. “Yeah, my um.. my parents..’ I instantly dropped my head and began to fidget with my fingertips under the pressure of realizing what hole I just dug myself into, “they died a few months ago so... here I am! alone..” I tried to finish enthusiastically but it all just came out so awkward. I didn't want to ruin the mood, but I realized too late that that is exactly what I had done. “My condolences, Y/N.” He threw me a reassuring smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. I wasn't in the mood for another ‘sob story’ moment so I stirred the conversation into a different direction. “I heard you just graduated, so I guess I won’t be seeing you at school this fall.” “Taehyung got accepted into Seoul Institute of Arts, isn't that amazing!” I watched Taehyung blush under Mina’s compliment. “Wow, congratulations.” “Thanks, Y/N.” He turned his head to the side and stared down at Mina, slowly placing a kiss on her forehead. Such an endearing moment. I wondered why they weren’t official yet. “Besides, it’s not like we’d get to see him often anyways.” Mina accused jokingly, pouting her bottom lip out. “Hey, that’s not fair!” Taehyung whined, “I've just been busy touring, you know that.” “You’re an artist?” I interrupted. “Yes! I’m in a group called BTS, we’re not that popular yet, but we’re gaining recognition by being on the road all the time.” He finished, throwing Mina a pitiful look I presume she’s all too familiar with. “Psht, look at you humbling yourself,” she faced directly at me this time, “they’re mad popular here in south ko, but they're trying to go international.” She finished dramatically, rolling her eyes as if Taehyung’s career goal was the only thing getting in between their ‘relationship’. “That’s really cool, I’d love to see you perform sometime.” “Well..” he began, his voice thinning out into a light chuckle as he collected his thoughts, “you see, we were supposed to perform the title song of our new album, Blood, Sweat & Tears, here tonight, but my members got kinda excited and.. shitfaced” he finished with a nervous smile. “Wait, you're all here?” His words spiked up a new curiosity in me. “Well duh, the whole point of this party is to celebrate their new album, of course all the members would be here, Y/N, didn't I tell you?” She asked but I knew she wasn't actually waiting for a response as all of her attention was devoted to Taehyung, she stared up at him as if he was the center of the universe. Her eyes mesmerized, her lips twisting into a beckoning smirk, pleading his to come crashing down into them. She was under his spell. “No, I think you forgot to mention that, Mina” I seethed at her through clenched teeth and a fake smile. “Oops” was all her brain could process. “I would introduce you but... I can’t seem to find them..” he trailed off, looking around the club, over everyone’s head, desperately searching for at least one member. It was almost effortless and for the first time, I realized how tall he was. “It’s ok,” I chuckled at his effort and decided to give him a rest, “another time?” “Of course!”

A tap on his shoulder stole his attention. After conversing with a man for several seconds he turned back around to face us. “It seems like they need me backstage.” He said, his face flashing a mix of concern and embarrassment. “What’s wrong?” Mina asked. “Apparently Hoseok hyung is planning a one-man-show.. in the nude..” He watched both me and Mina’s mouths turn into ‘O’s before continuing, “I better go help stop him before he ruins our career.” He turned around to leave, placing a kiss on top of Mina’s head and nodding a quick goodbye to me before disappearing with the man, who I now came to realize must’ve been a crew member by the way he was dressed, in all black with a mic headpiece shaping his face.

“Everyone here is so damn beautiful, I’m starting to find it weird.” I voiced out loud this time. Finally being alone with Mina, I was able to drop all barriers, I always found it easy to be myself around her. Ever since the big move, I’ve been cautious about the way I should act. I didn't want to stand out as the ‘country girl’, and even though I was perfectly proud to be where I was from, attention wasn't really my thing. After meeting Mina, I started to get a feel for how the people here behaved, thought and saw things. I figured I’d take a few tips from her to help me blend in more, but I loved being able to me unapologetically myself around her. “Well, what else do you expect from celebrities?” She sighed, confused at my question. “Celebrities?Everyone here is??” Why was I only finding this out now? “Not everyone, most of the people here are students at our school and the rest are famous graduates, the celebs-to-be, and the actual celebs.” She finished casually, and I was reminded again how uninformed I was about tonight. “Woah.” Was all I could manage. “Yep, I guess you could say this is where two worlds meet,” she said, looking around the room as if there was some physical divide, “but at least we all have something in common.” She smiled widely. “And what’s that?” “We’re all-“ A sudden arm around her neck cut her off mid-sentence.

“Come on now Mina, how are you gonna bring a new friend to my party and not even introduce me, you know better than that.” The blonde haired boy chided. He had thick hair that was unkempt. He ran his fingers through it slowly, moving it from his forehead and leaving little fly-aways that fell endearingly; revealing clear dark eyes, a color almost indefinable. They reminded me of the autumn leaves, a dark brown at first; but the closer he got the brighter they appeared. Suddenly they were chestnut with slight orange undertones. A straight nose and perfectly full, but masculine lips completed his face. I could hardly think as I stared stunned and bemused into his eyes, eyes that were staring right back into mine. I figured he was a part of BTS by the reference of ‘my party’ and turned to Mina for elaboration. “This, very drunk boy,” she scolded him, “is Jimin, he's a vocalist in Tae’s group” “It’s nice to meet you, very drunk boy.” I teased, which earned the most endearing eye smile from him, making my heart jump. “The pleasure is all mine.” He lifted my hand up, bringing it to his mouth and placing a kiss on my knuckles. It took me every bone in my body to hold my composure, but when my cheeks involuntarily flushed red, he’d gotten the reaction he was hoping for, as if getting even for the smile and slowly brought our hands down, but he didn't let go.

“Did you graduate too?” I tried to change the subject to lessen the heat rushing through my cheeks, my finger tips burning under his touch as he played with them. He just threw his head down and laughed nervously, and when Mina did the same I felt awkward between their inside joke that I was, apparently, missing the point of. “Well, Jiminie over here was supposed to graduate with Tae last May,” she overemphasized ‘supposed’, narrowing her eyes at Jimin, making him look the other way, “but he's not very gifted when it come to, um, school. So now he gets to repeat senior year with us, yay!” She finished laughing in his face, making the irritation in his eyes grow. “But he’s the best when it comes to dancing.” She quickly added, seeing the pain on his face and hoping to diminish the shade she threw at him. “What can I say, I’m a master with my body.” He whispered at me under hooded, hungry eyes and I had to wonder whether it was actually him or the alcohol talking. “I’m sure you are.” The words stumbled out as I cowered under his gaze, almost giving up on whatever composure I had left.

“Alright, Jimin, I think that’s enough teasing now.” A soft, sweet voice came out from behind him. A fragile-looking girl with vibrant, red, wavy hair. She look like something straight out of an anime, with bright brown eyes and clear, pale skin. “Hi, I’m Yeri.” She took the liberty to introduce herself, gently retracting my hand from Jimin’s and holding it in her own, whilst throwing him a cheeky irritated look. He returned it with his own version of irritation, upset that she’d broken our contact. “Hello, I’m- “Y/N!” She finished for me, and I narrowed my eyes at her. How did she know my name? Her face flashed a look that read ‘uh oh’ and she opened her mouth to explain, but nothing came out. After several nervous glances between the three of them, she continued. “Erm... Taehyung told me.” She laughed nervously, but something in me didn't believe her. “Way to go, Ri.” Jimin called her out, whispering very close to her ear as if I wasn’t supposed to hear him. “Yeah, hyung told us all about the ‘new girl’.” Another boy joined the conversation, throwing darts at Yeri, who was now grinning sheepishly at her mistake. “I see,” I stated flatly, clearly remembering Taehyung heading in the complete opposite direction from where they came from. “Mark.” He extended his hand out to me and I shook it subconsciously, too focused on how tall and pretty he was to properly reciprocate the gesture. “Y/N.” I said, instantly regretting it as he added, “I think we’ve already established that.” He laughed and I snapped back to reality. “Mark and Yeri are both sophomores at SOPA,” Mina moved from next to Jimin to beside Mark, “which means that this little rascal is younger than you, so you don't have to take any of his bs, ok.” She ended, roughly patting his head, although he was a whole foot taller than her, and he just let her. They looked like siblings in the moment. “Yeah, we get that a lot.” Mark sighed, his eyes growing the instant he finished talking as Mina pulled his hair to shut him up. “Get what?” Now I was seriously confused.

We all stood in silence for a few moments before the lights dimmed out in the club. A single spotlight hit the stage and Taehyung emerged from the left wing and took his place at the center. For a moment, I fully expected that Hoseok guy to run out and flash everyone. “Hello everybody, I’m V from BTS.” “V?” I whispered to Mina, who just rolled her eyes. “Stage name.” It seemed like she wasn't fond of it. “I would like to thank everyone for coming out tonight to celebrate our new album, Wings, with us. As you’ve probably already noticed, I’m the only one on stage.” After gaining the light laughter reaction he was looking for, he continued. “Long story short, the boys saw alcohol and I haven’t seen them since.” The crowd erupted into laughter this time at his distress. “I know you guys are listening right now, somewhere, so I just wanna quickly tell you.. you guys suck!” “I love you, too!” Jimin yelled back, earning a scowl from Taehyung in our direction. ‘Swag’ came from somewhere in the crowd, causing another wave of laughter and Taehyung to drop his head. “Yoongi..” Jimin chuckled, looking genuinely amused.

“Anyway. This time we decided writing each song together doesn't reflect the exact personal taste of each member, so instead, we each have our own completely separate songs. This way, we get to explore our own individual styles, incorporating them into our own stories.” He spoke clearly, accentuating every word with his deep, soothing voice and I realized I’d been put under his spell, along with the rest of the crowd. “We all contributed to the writing and producing our solo songs, and, in my personal, humble opinion, “ he began with mischief written all over his face, “the Neo-Soul song, Stigma, is the best.” He finished proudly, earning a round of applause. That must’ve been his song. “Now, I know you were promised a performance but since the members ruined our surprise,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, who knew he could be such an actor, “due to the fact that they are.. how do I put this nicely? conceited, careless, crazy bastards who can’t control themselves,” my mouth dropped open, “we’ve agreed that the DJ will play our entire album tonight as an apology.” With that, the first song began and the crowd went wild.

“Let’s go!” Yeri yelled, pulling Mark along with her to the dance floor. Taehyung came down from the stage, beckoning Mina to join him too and in the midst of it all, I noticed Jimin disappeared. Mina threw me a glance, insisting I’d join them but the last thing I wanted to do right now was dive into the suffocating sea of bodies. 

My nerves were running out of control and I couldn't understand why. I’d been feeling this way every since we walked in, but it was mild back then, and way more intense now. I could feel it like a weight in my chest, confining my lungs and making it hard for me to breath. My fingers were trembling and when I raised them up to cup my face, I felt a tingling energy force itself through my entire body and stop at my hands. I watched them shake in front of me and for a split second, my eyes caught what looked like markings just in the palm of my hands. I blinked and they were gone. Was it just my imagination? The more I thought about it, the more I felt like I was about to lose consciousness. I needed space, air. I convinced her to go on without me and made my way to the second floor, it was pretty much empty since everyone continued gathering on the dance floor. I found the nearest corner and crouched down against the wall, placing my elbows on my knees and dropping my forehead down into my hands. What was wrong with me? I could no longer control them, they were shaking in an odd trembling rhythm, and for a minute I had myself convinced I’d fade into oblivion.

“Come on baby, just one kiss? I promise I’ll make it worth your while.” A snobby voice giggled and I realized I wasn’t alone. I peeked up over the edge of my fingertips, trying to find the source of the sound. A couple sat in the lounge opposite me, surrounded by too many empty bottles of liquor. “No.” The boy sighed. “Why not?” The girl began to beckon him by straddling herself across his lap, cupping his face in her hands and leaning in closer. “Because, if I kiss you now then you’ll just keep coming back for more, and I can’t give you that,” he teased her, “you’re just gonna get your feelings hurt and then I’m gonna look like the bad guy.” He spoke, but his actions spoke louder than his words as he made no effort to move away from her. He noticed her hesitate as she digested his words, and figured she’d backed down, but to his surprise... “You know..” she began,“I like bad guys.” She whispered, her lips brushing against his. A smirk played up in the corners of his lips and just when he was about to give in, his eyes found mine.

I instantly shot my head down. He caught me. He caught me and now he was looking at me. I internally cried, hoping the ground would just swallow me up. “What’s wrong?” The girl asked, noticing his diverted attention. “Er.. nothing, it’s just..” He trailed off trying to find some excuse when his phone began vibrating in his pocket. As soon as he read the caller ID, he sat up, throwing the girl off his lap. - “What, no, isn't he with Seokjin?” He almost yelled. I knew something was wrong as I could clearly hear whoever was on the other end of the line frantically shouting, all the way from my position on the other side of the room. “Fucking Hoseok.” The boy spat under his breath, before leaving the area. When I was sure he was gone, I looked up. The girl, who was ready for a make out session only moments ago, was passed out on the sofa, sound asleep. I looked at the mess she was, suddenly very thankful I hadn't had a single drop of alcohol all night and threw my head back down. I just wanted to get out of here and go home but I couldn't bring myself to ask Mina to leave. She’d been looking forward to not only tonight but spending time with Taehyung. I mean, who knows when she’ll get to see him next. I couldn't bear to cut whatever time they had short and sunk further into the wall, trying to find comfort in the silence this part of the club had to offer.

After a while, I came to my senses. I wasn’t sure how much time had gone by but at least my nerves had calmed down. The music was still playing downstairs so I figured it hadn't been that long. I remembered the girl from before and looked up to where she was sleeping, only to find that she wasn't there anymore. I contemplated whether she ended up leaving the club with the guy from earlier or not, but my question was answered when he reached the top of the stairs to the lounge, alone. I remembered our awkward eye contact and hid behind my palms once again, hoping he’d forgotten and wouldn't notice me. His footsteps kept getting closer and I realized it was hopeless.

“Hey, you alright?” A soft voice asked, crouching down so that we were at the same level. “Yeah.” My voice came out so weak, even I didn't believe me. I leaned deeper into my hands, hoping he’d get the message and just leave. “I’m not leaving.” He dropped, sitting down with his legs crossed directly in front of me as if to stand his ground. A few moments passed and when he realized I wasn't budging, he continued, “you know.. it is physically impossible for pigs to look up into the sky.” “Huh?” I couldn't help but lift my head up and laugh at his ridiculous comment. “Congrats, you're not a pig.” He smiled widely, proud that he got me to face him. “What is that supposed to mean?” I was too giddy from his previous comment to even be offended. “Nothing. But at least now I get to see your pretty face.” He said with a smile in his voice. I was met with a smirk, and when my eyes took him in completely, I realized how close he was. I found myself looking straight at him more than I’d like to admit but something about him was so... calming.  My eyes traced every inch of his face; from his eyes to his lips and everything in between, until they fell on a scar placed on his left cheek. I stared at it for a moment longer, wondering how it got there before he turned to the side as if he was hiding it. When he turned back to face me, something about him changed. He held my eyes again and somewhere between his close proximity and intense gaze, I felt like an open book. He wasn’t just looking at me, he was searching my eyes as if he could see straight into my mind through them. With that thought, a smile crept up on his face, sending a wave of energy through me and causing my nerves to stir up again.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” He let out with a slight chuckle.

“Get used to what?” I asked, but he already got up and was making his way back. He turned around to face me at the top of the stairs, throwing me one last smile.

“Everything. See you around, Y/N.”