#i have no plans for nye so being back here makes me feel better about that too 🙃

[vegancas]

i can’t end the year and start a new one without coming back to tumblr so hello!!!! i’m back finally 😭😭 i’ve missed everyone so much!!!!

going to be limiting my time here but being away completely has been so strange. like i don’t really feel like i need to be here anymore the way i used to but also i do miss it. i talked to my psychologist about how i was taking time away from here and she said i don’t have to cut it out completely either so that is validating lol

anyway i wish i could say i have my life together now and i’m doing great but it has still been very difficult to like get myself to take like good care of myself, but being away from tumblr for even longer isn’t exactly going to help that so... but i have a couch now! and i’m mostly unpacked and organised, there’s still stuff i need to get from my parent’s house but i have a lot less stuff in boxes now lol

[lemmetreatya]

home for new years — husband!reiner x fem!reader

contents: fluff, sex, m!pen

happy new years to everyone!! last fic for the year but not the last from me! the last 4 months on here have been great and i cant wait to see what 2023 brings us! thank you to everyone whos supported me and my work so far i love u all MWAH! 🫶🏾🫶🏾

home for new years will have you declining invitations and calls from your friends who are asking both you and reiner to back the nye party sasha and niccolo are hosting.

“i’m sorry, sash! not this year. me and reiner already planned to just have a night in between the both of us.”

“but you can come and spend it together with us!” she’d whine into the receiver.

you could only chuckle at her. even though she may have come across as invasive or unregarding of the quality time you’ve decided to dedicate to spend with your spouse, you knew she came from a place of love.

sasha wasnt the only one. both of your respective messages were blowing up; relatives who lived in different countries already wishing you the new years well due to their forward timezones, friends asking about the motives and misc notifications.

none of them, however, were as adamant as reiner’s younger cousin.

“why cant i spend new years with you two?! if you’re only staying home then that means you’re not doing anything important.” gabi moaned.

“what we want to do is important enough that we dont need you around. we literally spent christmas eve, christmas day and even boxing day with you, isnt that enough?” your husband responded.

reiner was definitely tired of gabis back and forth notion that she practically needed to be in your hair on all seasonal events. even though he was too kind to say it to her face, he definitely made it known to you through the agitated expressions he occasionally made behind her back.

“no, it’s not enough! there’s no reason for you not to see me if you’re free.” she haggled.

reiner sighed loudly. you could tell that he was tapping out from the argument as from the way he rested his head against the sofa back.

seeing him no longer want to entertain his cousin, you decided to step in. with an easy smile, you replied to her instead.

“just because we’re staying home it doesn’t mean we’re free.”

she didn’t say anything but she definitely considered your argument a lot easier than she did reiner’s. reiner always said she listened to you better.

“if it makes for anything, we can spend new years day together?” you kindly offered.

gabi huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest and bounced herself onto the couch.

“that’s such a cheap excuse. no one does anything on new years. it’s a free holiday. you wouldn’t be sacrificing anything to be with me, you guys don’t even go nowhere. i am literally the only fun in your lives.”

even though you were surprised at her level of rebuttal, you couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the twelve year olds words. whilst you and reiner may not be the childless lavish-life living adults she wanted you to be, she still seemed to want to spend every waking moment with you both.

but alas, you and reiner were okay with that life for now because it meant you had room to spend new years at home.

you didn’t have to worry about childcare expenses or who was willing to have your kin on a holidays like this. you didn’t even have to worry about answering to anyone for anything. you both had the night to spend it within each other and that alone was the reason you were fine with how things were.

“i’m really happy we’re spending new years like this.”

reiner placed the last platter down onto the coffee, the look on his face giddy as sat down next to you.

“same. i feel like we don’t get to spend a lot of our holidays with it just being the two of us. it’s a nice change.” you replied, fingers already sneaking into one of the snacks.

reiner’s arms found solace over your shoulders, his warmth already seeping into you as you pressed play on the remote which started up the movie.

“we should deffo do it more often then.”

he said more quietly due to his awareness of the movie starting. still, looking down at you, reiner couldn’t help but plant a closed mouth kiss to your temple.

“deffo.” you agreed, your attention already captivated with the movie introduction.

there was no doubt; reiner would definitely treasure this new years.

throughout the year, the two of you were always so busy. if it wasn’t work then it was extra-curricular commitments and even in between those times, the both of you were deeply involved with the lives of your family and friends.

deciding to simply spend it with just the two of you was a well curated decision. really and truly, the both of you could have spared yourselves once again and indulged with the lives of others.

but deciding to chose each other just this once was the best decision you could have ever made.

“god, i love you so much.”

reiner endearingly muttered into your ears as he pumped himself in and out of you. the soft whimpers you poured out into his were just as sweet as your arms hooked around his neck.

“i-love you too, rei.” you breathed, the feeling of his dick stretching your insides so familiar yet estactic.

and oh how you did love this man because when he first offered for the both of you to ditch all new year plans just so he could spend it with you, in you, you couldn’t help but to allow him what he wished.

making love to reiner in the most enchanting low light and soft candle glow was such a way to go into the new years.

rough and lustful sex had its place and it was definitely one of your favourite past times with reiner. but there was none of that right now. there was no biting, rough handling, guttural or carnal intent, nothing.

just you and reiner underneath the blankets, vulnerable and opened for the other to indulge in.

and you loved that, because this, was how you wanted to spend new years. with reiner, and totally enamoured by him.

and just as the neighbouring fireworks bursted outside your bedroom window, and your phones simultaneously buzzed with texts, you couldn’t think of a better way to go into the next age but within his arms.

with the indication that you had been graced into a new year, the both of you wispily smiled into the others embrace.

reiner continued to chase his climax as he lightly kissed the top of your shoulder, his face then burying into the crook of your neck

“ha-happy new year, baby.” he said with a grin, his hands still working over your curves beneath the duvet.

“happy…new year to you too, rei.” you muttered back, your hands gently caressing the short bristled hairs on the back of his neck.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Tongue-tied

A/N: In honor of @sillyrabbit81's milestone event. Congratulations on the milestone, hun 🥰 I kinda ended up combining two prompts I got for Mikey, because this accidentally just took a turn in that direction.

You can find the masterlist for the event here! (And my masterlist here)

Pairing: Mike (Hellraiser) x reader (you)

Prompt: Playful & Happy + Tied up // Smug & Sadistic + Dirty talk

Summary: There's this thing Mike has always wanted to try...

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering, oral (f receiving), light bondage/ use of restraints, dirty-talk, very very very very very very soft!Dom Mikey.

@geralts-yenn @fvckinghenrycavill @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @peaches1958 @keanureevesisbae I know I should be getting you guys 179CS's NYE, FixU23, UO3 and a whole bunch of other stuff... But I got distracted and just... have this little Mikey-drabble, instead.

The sentence ‘please, babe, I’ve always wanted to try it’ and a pair of bright blue puppy eyes. Apparently, that is all it takes for you to agree to let your boyfriend tie you to his bed. You’ve never realized just how big a fan you are of hiding until right this second, when Mike finishes tying your ankle to his bedframe and looks at you. The look of curiosity and excitement in his eyes is so incredibly endearing that you almost forget to ask him in all honesty how he got the restraints he used on you if he’s never done this before.

“Eighteenth birthday,” he says. As it turns out, his friends thought it would be really funny to have him unpack a bunch of silly gifts in front of his parents, but they forgot to take into account the ‘Mike factor’ – his words, not yours. You feel they should have known better than to think the gifts would embarrass him, though. Like… You’re talking about the guy who took you to his parents’ place for the holidays, and when his mom walked in on you two getting it on, he just looked her dead in the eye and said: “And this is why it’s a good idea to knock before stomping into your son’s room.” You were mortified, of course.  

“Are you okay?” He asks as you’re on your way back from pushing that memory all the way down, because it sure as hell isn’t something you can use right now. You nod in reply to his question. You’re really just a little nervous, even though you know you can trust him. Mike straddles your hips, and you immediately try to raise your hands to touch him. Mike is grinning at you from above like an absolute idiot, which means you won’t be able to hold that scowl a lot longer. You can already feel the smile break through on your serious face.

“Don’t laugh at me, Mike.” You pout as you say it. “I just want to touch you.”

“But you can’t because you’re tied to my bed,” Mike singsongs, still smiling like a fool.

“You haven’t thought about what you’re going to do with me at all, have you?” You already know the answer; Mike is not a ‘planning’ kind of guy.

“I didn’t have to think about that,” he says. You don’t like the sound of that, if you’re being perfectly honest. “I can think about it now.” His kiss is soft, slow, and over as soon as you started to really enjoy it.

“I can do anything I want with you,” he continues as he kisses along your jaw to your ear, and down into your neck. Every time he comes across a spot that makes you gasp, he makes a point of lingering on it. Sucking, nibbling… And then he stops and sits up again.

“Or I can do absolutely nothing and just leave you laying here for a few hours.” For a moment, he tries very hard to look as if he’s actually considering it. “Nah, that would be a waste. I can hug you.” He wraps his arms around you as he says it, and just holds onto you like some sort of giant koala for a minute. You sigh, which is the only thing you can do to keep yourself from laughing.

He moves away to sit between your legs, still putting on a face like he’s thinking long and hard about all the possibilities. And maybe he actually is, who can tell.

“I could give you lots of kisses?” He falls forward, catching himself just in time before crushing you, and continues the path he was making down your neck. “Or I could lick you everywhere. I know you hate it when I lick you.”

“I don’t always hate it,” you say innocently. In reality, you only hate it when he jokingly licks your cheek in public. Or when he randomly licks kinda unusual spots on your body. Like your shoulder, completely out of nowhere?

Mike seems to completely ignore what you just said, and continues his musing about all the things he could do to you: “I could finally spend a decent amount of time with my favorite titties.”

Of course, he immediately comes into action on this one. He’s meticulous in his treatment, making sure to lick, suck and nibble on every inch of skin that can reasonably be considered part of your boobs, until way past the point where you’d normally be begging him to move further south. And by ‘begging him’ you mean ‘physically shoving him further down your body’. Which you can’t do now, because you’re tied to his fucking bed. No, today, your only option is to actually beg him, crying out as his tongue slowly draws the millionth circle around your swollen and sensitive nipple, and his fingers softly pinch the other.

“What? You want me to keep doing this? Ok!” You protest loudly, the noises that come out of your mouth are more sob than moan at this point, and you squirm, straining against the silky ties around your wrists and ankles.

“Mike, please, for fuck’s sake!” you cry out. “Please eat me out!” Apparently, begging works on him, because he makes his way down your body, dragging his tongue over your skin as he does – much to your dismay. At least Mike seems to be having the time of his life, so you’ll forgive the licking. This time.

“Whoa!” Mike sounds very surprised when he reaches his destination and runs his fingers through your folds. “You are super fucking wet, baby.”

“Ehh…” You can’t speak, you’re searching every remote corner of your brain for an excuse. Of course you don’t find one, because the only explanation you have for it is that, yeah, you’re absolutely turned on by what Mike is doing to you.

“You like this, don’t you?” Mike asks. He bites his lip, and looks up at you as he slips two fingers into your pussy. From the way he asks, you can tell he’s clearly expecting an answer, but you lose the ability to speak as soon as he curls his fingers inside you and finds just the right spot. The only thing you can do is whimper.

“See, baby, I don’t need your instructions,” he says as he moves his fingers exactly the way you want him to. His tongue hits your clit just the right way, and for a moment, you squirm and squeal – and then he disappears. Both his mouth and his hands leave you, and he leans over you again.

“Alright, baby, here’s what’s gonna happen.” Oh. Oh. That smug grin he’s flashing at you makes you weak, sends shivers down your spine in a way he’s never done before. It’s good to know that Mike gets cocky when he’s in charge, and that you like it. A lot.

“I’m gonna eat your sweet little pussy, and I’m gonna make you cum so hard you won’t even remember your own name, just mine.” You listen closely, failing every attempt to swallow down the lump in your throat. Part of you wants to yell at him to get to it, instead of talking all that talk, but you’re fairly sure you won’t be getting anything if you try that. You also know there’s a ‘but’ coming…

“However…” Yeah, that’s the same as ‘but’. “If you try to get involved in this, in any way – and I’m serious; One hint, one piece of advice, even a ‘right there’ – I’ll gag you. Are we clear?” Your cheeks are burning as you look down at those messy curls and the quirked eyebrow and the panty-dropping smirk between your legs that only widens when you finally speak: “Yes, Sir.”

[frankieglam]

Pre-Christmas Update

It's Christmas Eve and I usually look back in the year now because little changes between now and NYE.

Most recently we've been caught up with trying to get the Christmas food sorted. A friend has been helping us out pretty regularly to make sure we had food and she was lovely enough to offer funds to do Christmas food. After some back and forth (and a budget) I sent her the final amount and.... Haven't heard anything since. She's been online and she's been active but she's just ignored our chat.

I don't mind that things change for people, she's under no obligation to help us at all, just... communicate that? Just a simple "I'm sorry, I can't anymore" and it's totally fine.

We pooled resources and got the food for the next week or so but we're down to our last £30 now. Money that's spoken for on other small bills so we have to say a prayer to whomever is listening that we have no emergencies that require money until next month 🤣

The car is still part of a court case that we're looking at February before we hear anything about and if this doesn't work...then we're out of options on that front because any other expenses will be out of pocket and we won't be able to claim them back.

We have been given permission to scrap it, so that's something at least but the maximum of £250 we'll get for it, is a far stretch from the £1600 we paid plus garage fees and legal fees (so closer to £2000 total).

We were looking forward to being able to head out for NYE drinks at the local; nothing OTT just a couple of drinks and bringing in the NY with other people. Looks like we'll be doing it at home again and that's got us feeling a little ... Blah?

I recently also found out that an uncle who found my Gran through a TV show (Long Lost Family UK) was only ever looking for Gran... Not everyone that came with her - he has no real interest in staying in contact with us after Gran died. I hope she haunts him for that.

On the plus side, I still have a few family members and my chosen family. I still have regular work outside of my adult stuff and plans for other stuff which I WILL GET DONE THIS COMING YEAR GOD DAMNIT I NEED TO STOP PROCRASTINATING!!

My health may not be amazing but I can do more now than I could a couple of years ago. My mental health isn't the best but the meds keep me stable and for that I'm grateful as hell.

I have appointments that I've been waiting 5+ years for in January and that should help one way or another; answers to questions I've had since I was a kid.

And I have amazing friends who have mentally and physically and every other way supported us through one hell of a year and I'm so fucking grateful for them and I will be sure to make them know it.

I'm wishing everyone happy holidays and I know many of us are struggling so here's to a better new year. I hope 2024 is good to us all; we deserve it.

[linzsaw]

75 HARD: day one

[x] read 10 pages - Atomic Habits

[x] 45 minute workout outside - AM outdoor walk

[x] 45 minute workout inside - PM arms + elipitical

[x] gallon of water

[x] followed diet - high protein: protein pancakes, Mexican veggie bowl for lunch, protein shake, banana, brownie and nuts for snacks, and tonight's dinner included Lemon Basil Turkey Meatballs & Creamy rice

[x] took progress photo - good thing I remembered to do this after a big meal :)

[x] no alcohol - nope, and in fact I was pretty ready to give it up and didn't even drink on NYE. I had my last drink on Christmas and not sure I'll ever go back.

Today was a huge success and I'm feeling accomplished! I honestly was in a bit of a rut for the month of December after coming back from Thailand and feeling quite broke and worn out. It felt really amazing to get back into a routine again. I set myself up pretty well for this challenge. They say that New Year’s resolutions are kind of out of place because goal setting should really begin in spring, and that this is a time for rest. I fully get that and support those who are participating in a relaxing period. For me, though, I’ve always done really well when I set my goals at the top of the year. I think monthly check-ins to make sure you’re following your set goals is crucial though! I think having a visual like a vision board or creating a Mind Movie works so well. The background on my phone is a vision board I made a while back and I’ve accomplished almost everything on it. This year, I plan to create a Mind Movie and I’m really excited! If you’re not familiar, these are short videos that you design yourself to get your mind in peak 'manifesting' mode, that you watch first thing in the morning and last thing at night. The idea is to see yourself as having whatever you want now, played out in the movie with hertz frequencies in the background. The goal is to get excited about your dreams, to stop focusing on what is and envision on how you want your life to be.

Preparation

This last week I spent some time collecting recipes, I wrote down all the things I'd like to do daily and weekly, made a workout schedule and plan, and organized a system for how to realistically accomplish these tasks/goals. I also did an intention setting ceremony last night with Yoga Girl's annual podcast which I absolutely love.

On NYE my love and I went out to eat at one of our favorite Italian restaurants and I drank a delicious mocktail that had blackberry, mint, agave, and soda water. I was definitely in bed before midnight (MST) but I did watch the balldrop on tiktok live and got my new years kiss lol. I think this was another way I set myself up for success, just knowing that I did not want to start off the new year hungover. It's not worth it to me and I've really outgrown that poison.

I wondered how well I would do with the outdoor workout with it being winter, but honestly it was really refreshing to jump out of bed and force myself to get outside. The cold woke me up and it was a great start to the day. I listening to a walking meditation. The last time I did this consistently, I very quickly quantum leaped into my dream career from a very depressing job, I passed the ASWB licensing exam by a landslide, and I started my UGC side gig career which has also been quite a success! I'm seriously so damn excited to see how life can get even better than it already is.

The self-development book I started reading is called Atomic Habits by James Clear, and I can already tell I'm gonna love it. I've heard such good things about it. It's about how to build good habits and break bad ones, noting that tiny changes in your day to day life can have a huge impact on your life long-term, whether good or bad. Here's a quote from the book that stood out to me today:

"The impact created by a change in your habits is similar to the effect of shifting the route of an airplane by just a few degrees. Imagine you are flying from Los Angeles to New York City. If a pilot leaving from LAX adjusts the heading just 3.5 degrees south, you will land in Washington D.C. instead of New York. Such a small change is barely noticeable at takeoff- the nose of the airplane moves just a few feet--but when magnified across the entire United States, you end up hundreds of miles apart."

Thanks for tuning into my journey! Can't wait to see the transformation both physically and mentally.

[what-the-hayl]

Another Update

Hi Guys,

Ive been slacking so much lately, really focusing on my mental and being mom though. Which counts for something!

395 days no alcohol, ive been around it a few times and didnt feel the need to drink anything which was cool, i had my redbull. I was out on NYE downtown like i always used to do, but this year i went out after a year of isolation basically.. went to this techno thing with my friends that ive probs been in the most trouble with. A couple of us are on this sober ride which is cool, my one friend has been sober for awile now after he got into some trouble again but he said he will have a couple beers here and there. To each their own path, <3 I found a N/A beer i was never a dark beer, sour beer drinker. But, this N/A drink was a mango drangonfruit sour it was good. I had too many so safe to say i would of picked up right where i left off had i allowed myself to drink again... damn.

Sober life is treating me well though, im staying focused and have found and still contiune to find new or pick up old hobbies now a days. Working on disciplinary actions for myself with simple things as getting my reading, writing, walks and meds down everyday. Im still slacking every once in a couple weeks. I am doing alot better now a days though then i was when i began this journey.

I have recently dug up my art box, ive always been artistic i would like to think, im good at drawing if i got back into it. I love writing ive always thought about writing songs and having someone sing them, haha. But, now i plan to get my Etsy store open in the next two weeks, im going to start making crafts.. it'll be a mess at the beginning but i know i can succeed at a store like this!

Follow more and help support me(:

Im proud of you for all the hard work you are putting into a better life for yourself, never give up on you.

[mochi-coffee]

Valentine's Day

ft. wakasa, the regulars at his gym and that time you spend Valentine's Day with them.

a/n: yeah I know Valentines was a week ago but better late then never? 🤣 I had it in draft before valentines but didn't managed to finish it before then 🙊 (look, I have a draft on NYE so this isn't too bad 🤣)

Summoning @kallikrein especially because her roommate!wakasa angst indirectly lead me finish this to I have some fluff(?) to counter the angst she throws at me 🤣

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

You've always thought that giving chocolates during Valentine's Day is something that only happens during school, a wholesome way for pure-hearted kids to confess to their crushes. Once adulthood hits, Valentine's Day was less about the chocolates but more about those lucky enough to be in a relationship to showing off how they are showered them love, flowers and gifts by their partners.

But seeing the pile of chocolates on the counter at Wakasa's gym - it appeared that you were wrong. Apparently chocolate gifting was still a thing.

When you arrived at Wakasa's gym, the gym was emptier than usual with only a few regulars that were still here training - which made perfect sense because it's 9pm on Valentine's Day. And if they were here, sparring and sweating in the gym instead of spending time with loved ones, they must be part of the single's club - just like you. You gave them a quick smile and wave as you walked in, before scanning the room to find the owner himself sitting on a high stool next to the counter.

With his back leaned against the counter and his water bottle in hand, Wakasa watched as his regulars trained, occasionally dropping comments and a few pointers here and there. His face more aloof than usual - perhaps drained from the amount of attention he must have gotten from his female customers today, as evident by the mountain of colourful heart shaped boxes behind him. His social battery probably has depleted hours ago, and the man in front of you was just a shell of what remains.

"Still as popular as ever huh?" You chuckled as you popped the plastic bags in your hand on the counter next to Wakasa's stack of gifts. Wakasa gave you a glare, and if the way his shirt is all wrinkled and visibly stretched doesn't give you a hint, the look on his face said it all - he's bloody exhausted after a long day being flocked by girls.

"It's a good problem to have - not everyone gets chocolate on valentines" you consoled as you gave him a pat on the shoulder, brushing off random strand of random's hairs off while you are at it.

After last year's prank that Wakasa pulled caused a massive dropout of female students at the gym (you unknowingly assisted), Benkei made sure this year Wakasa was on his best behavior during valentines. And hence this wakasa in front of you - completed worn out by the flood of attention today. Now that you look closely, you could faintly see the smudged lipstick marks on Wakasa's face, seems like theses girls are really ruthless this year and you started to feel sorry for Wakasa.

Speaking of Benkei, the only reason why he's nowhere to be found currently was because that man got plans this year, which you are very exciting about. But at the same time, it's a little lonely, as this marks the first year where it's just you and wakasa left spending this lovers specific day together as friends.

If Shinichiro was still here, you all would probably have gathered at his bike shop by now, listening to his latest story on his crush on the cute florist at the shop across the road. But since he's gone, this tradition of spending valentines together has shifted to spending the night drinking and chilling at Wakasa's gym instead. And now, it's just you and wakasa hanging out tonight - along with the regulars in the gym.

Shaking those thoughts away, you did a quick scan of the gym again before making an attempt to comfort the gym owner.

"On the bright side, you are probably the only one in this room that got chocolates"

Hearing the loud sigh echoing the gym, you watched as shoulders of all the other men in the room dropped and gloominess sweep across the room- your comment has definitely hit a sore spot accidentally. Flustered, you quickly pulled the plastic bags off the counter and held them up like a trophy, the items in inside ruffled in the process.

"I bought beer and chocolate for all of us!" You shouted, waving the bag slightly, "Who said you can only spend valentines with your lovers, let's just do a singles party and have our fun here!"

Ignoring wakasa's mumbled 'nice save', you watches as the regulars's ears perked up at the word 'chocolate' and how their eyes lit up instantaneously. The men quickly dropped what they were doing, wiping their hands and face with a towel before gathering around you. Wakasa remains at his seat on the stool and watches as you hand out the chocolates and beer to everyone with a smile. He'd occasionally making snarky remarks telling the regulars to not complement you too much or you'd get cheeky. You stuck you tongue out to Wakasa and took back the can of beer you were about to hand him, instead passing it to the next regular that came over.

Most of the regulars took chocolate from the shared box of assorted chocolate you got, but when you saw that new recruit in Brahman, you pulled out a smaller box of chocolate from your pocket and handed it to him. You've specifically bought this box of dark chocolates for him because from the last time you chatted, you remember he wasn't a big fan of sweet things other than this specific brand of chocolate.

The new recruit looked surprised to see that you remembered his preference, before giving you a charming smile and thanked you. The two of you started chatting about the day when a hand appeared in between you two, interrupting the conversation. Letting out a sigh, you gave the new recruit an apologetic look, which he laughed and waved off before walking away to talk with other regulars. You dug your hand into the bag in search for the can of beer, before pulling the cold can and dropping it into the outreached hand, whose owner was none other than Imaushi Wakasa.

Wakasa gives you a smirk while you glared at him, before reaching into the bag for your own can of beer. But then the hand appeared in front of you again. You look up, watched as Wakasa takes a gulp of his can while holding out a hand towards you, before shooting him a questioned look.

"Where's mine?", he asked with his hand opened - as if he's waiting for something.

Tilting your head slightly, you were hoping that wakasa would elaborate a bit more, but all you got was his usual bored expression and his half lidded eyes staring back at yours. Looking behind wakasa, the stack of chocolates seems to be the answer.

"Chocolate?"

Wakasa nods.

"I didn't get you any chocolate, don't you have enough over there?"

Wakasa blinked once, before tilting back and glancing at the mountain of chocolate behind him and slowly retreating his outreached hand. He shrugged, before sitting back on his seat at the counter, and continue to watch his regulars enjoying their break, as if he's unbothered by the lack of chocolate. But after years of knowing wakasa, you've mastered the art of reading Imaushi Wakasa, and by the way he's swaying his can of beer, you can tell he's slightly annoyed.

You pressed your lips together to stop yourself from chuckling out loud. You could tease him a bit more and keep him waiting, but you decided to play nice, since it's Valentine's.

"I didn't get you any chocolate, but..." you said slowly, as you reached for your backpack and started unzipping it, before pulling out a familiar looking box.

"I did get you some dango instead - so stop sulking, you always rant about getting too much chocolate anyways.... and yes, you can start calling me Y/N-sama"

You joked as you held out the box of dangos, waiting for Wakasa to take it from your hand, but it didn't happen. Looking up from your backpack, you were met the gym owner with his elbow lend against on the counter, his chin rested on his palm, his eyes closed and his mouth opened towards you.

".... what are you doing?"

"Feed me"

"No. You have hands, you can eat it yourself"

"I'm tired"

"Waka...."

"I've been here since the morning - under attacked for the entire day"

"...."

"Are you going to let a dying man starve in front of you?"

"...fine, just once okay?"

Behind you two, the regulars wonders what happened to the single's partygoers mentioned, as they watch you reluctantly feed the gym owner and him smirking back at you - why do they have a feeling that they were third wheeling something?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"If only there's more girls in the gym", one of the regular whined as he popped a piece of chocolate into his mouth.

"Well, I had a great plan for valentines event to attract more customers to the gym", you chimed in, before shooting daggers at the blonde gym owner. "But someone just had to say no"

Wakasa snorted before gesturing you to continued, a grin forming on his face. Everyone could tell that his mood has definitely lighten up by the beer and the dango.

"Go on, tell them your amazing plan"

You winced, hoping to redirect the topic before it's too late, but all the attention was already on you. You mentally gave yourself a kick, blaming the alcohol in your system for letting your mouth talk loose - you really walked into this one yourself. It was a really random idea that you brought up as a joke that you don't really want to announce it in front of everyone.

Twirling your hair with your fingers as you let out a nervous laugh, you were hoping that the regulars would dropped the topic if you twirled it for long enough. But seeing how the eyes continue to be glued onto you (and how Wakasa's smirk grows wider each second), you gave up, cleared your throat before explaining the Valentine's Day event you had in mind for the gym.

"We'll host a tournament between the customers and whomever wins would get a kiss from our one and only - Imaushi Wakasa!" You held your hand out towards wakasa, waving your hand and wiggling your fingers like an sales representative showing off the latest hot item they are trying to sell.

Wakasa on the other hand, just had his lips pressed into a straight line, looking unimpressed.

"What am I? A marketing scheme to you?"

"Can you imagine how many girls would sign up - you just need to charge for a participation fee and you'll be rich!"

"My gym doesn't need your shitty marketing plans"

You two started to blinkered when one of the regulars interrupted, "Haha, it's not a bad plan per say"

The rest laughed along while you turn to Wakasa and mouthed "seeee". The young gym owner rolled his eyes at the nonsense before taking another sip of his beer.

"but that's only works female customers though, what's in it for us?"

".... there would be more girls at the gym...?" You grimaced, hoping it was an okay answer. Luckily, another regular chimed in.

"How about this, we'll do one now between the men and the winner gets a kiss from y/n instead! That could be the Valentine event!"

Your eyes widen slightly at the suggestion, before you bought your can of beer to your mouth, hoping that by brushing your lips against the cold can, it would slow down the incoming blush.

You weren't expecting this at all, but now that you think about it - everyone is single here, what's wrong with a small kiss on valentines? It's just a kiss on the cheek anyways, how bad could it be? And so - you caved.

"Sure! Whatever,  let's do this! It's an one-off Valentines special and winner gets a kiss! So you all better put in all you got!" You laughed as you raised your can to the air. The regulars cheered and excitement filled the room - the regulars chatting among themselves and getting rowdy, some of them started warming up, stretching and getting fired up, before making their way towards the ring at the center of the gym.

Behind you, you could hear the sound of the stool scraping along the floor.

"Waka, do you want to referee- eh?"

You asked as you turned to face the gym owner who's been sitting quietly behind you. But before you could finished your sentence, wakasa has already stood up for where he was sitting, his head tilted up to the ceiling as he downs the remaining beer, before crushing the now empty can with his hand. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Wakasa rolled his shoulder and cracked his neck, before looking at the crowd in front him with a dark glint in his eyes.

"Okay, which one of you want to get your ass kicked first."

And with that, any excitement that was in the room extinguished as quickly as it started.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

And I'll let you all imagine the rest haha let me know what do you think happens next 😁

[tiffdawg]

Curriculum Vitae: Chapter Seventeen

Gif: @javier-pena​

curriculum vitae noun cur·ric·u·la vi·tae Latin. the course of one’s life.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.4k

Rated: E  | Warnings: NSFW – semi-explicit sexual content, l*ve m*king. Feelings. Domesticity. 18+ only.

Chapter Summary: In this chapter, Javier returns to Los Angeles to spend New Year's Eve with you. 

A/N: My plan to have this chapter our at the start of the month didn't pan out, but here is the NYE chapter. Finally! I hope that you all enjoy it and are having a wonderful start to 2021. Thank you, as always, for reading and supporting this story. Sending lots of love!

Read on AO3

CV Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Seventeen

As you stood outside gate C14, you tightened your grip on Sunny’s leash. With a wagging tail and shining eyes, she pulled in every direction, determined to greet every passing traveler.

“Hey,” you whispered, “I know you’re excited but be good before they kick us both out.” You weren’t exactly sure if she was supposed to be there but sometimes it was better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission. She made a displeased whining noise as she sat down next to you. “Don’t you want to see Javi?” Her ears perked up at the familiar name. “I thought so.”

You glanced back at the gate through the crowd of people. There was still no sign of any disembarking passengers. You took a deep breath and tamped down your own excitement, deciding to crouch down next to Sunny and pet her rather than stare at the empty gate. Your affectionate touch calmed the both of you.

So when she yipped again, you knew exactly why.

Glancing up, you found Javier scanning the crowd and his eyes were drawn to Sunny’s bark. A grin broke out on his face that certainly matched yours.

The two of you met somewhere in the middle. You don’t even remember making the conscious decision to move toward him. It was just instinctual. Like the way you threw your arms around Javier’s neck and his wound around your waist as your lips met in one long deep kiss that left you weak in the knees. You leaned into him, knowing he’d keep you steady, and savored the way he hummed in pleasure against your lips.

“Hi,” Javier breathed as he rested his forehead against yours. You traced the curve of his smile with the pad of your thumb as you cupped his cheek. It was one of those perfect ones that crinkled the corners of his eyes and left him looking years younger. And so damn happy.

“Hi,” you echoed, unsure if you could find another word in that moment. But maybe you didn’t need to say anything else. It was enough just to feel his arms around you again.

“I missed this,” he murmured. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Javi.” Your eyes fell as you took him in. Long-sleeved plaid shirt tucked into his well-fitting dark wash jeans and paired with his signature boots. You ran your hands over the soft material covering his chest. “You didn’t have to come back,” you whispered.

“I wanted to.”

“What about your dad?”

“He has plenty of family to spend the night with. He was fine with me leaving early.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” he answered, rolling his eyes. “When he found out you were spending New Year’s Eve alone, he smacked me upside the head and told me to get on the next plane to LA.” You made a surprised noise that quickly turned into giggles. “Don’t laugh at that. That’s not funny,” he said with a smile of his own.

You laced your fingers with his and kissed the back of his hand, trying to hide your grin. “It is, actually.” Your smile fell. “Still, you didn’t have to come back just for me.”

“Yes, I did. I wouldn’t have been happy knowing you were alone. I’m right where I want to be.” His grin widened and you felt a quiet laugh in his chest. “I don’t think you were the only one who missed me.” You followed his eyes to find Sunny, tongue out and tail wagging, with two paws on Javier’s hip as she vied for his attention. He let go of you only to kneel down to greet her. “Si, si, te extrañé,” he shushed as he tried to calm the excited dog. Your heart soared as he planted a kiss on the top of her head.

“Should we stop by baggage claim?” you asked.

“Nope.” He stood and swung a worn leather duffle over his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

You tried not to read much into his turn of phrase as he slung an arm around your shoulders and guided you out of the busy terminal. “So,” you decided to prod as you waited at the crosswalk leading to the parking garage, “you told your dad about me?”

“Well, he figured it out.” He continued only at your confused expression. “He said I was happy.”

You kissed him. “I’m happy too,” you said, slipping a hand in his back pocket and squeezing his ass through his denim jeans. That earned you a wolfish grin that brought out that lone dimple just for you.

… . …

“It looks like 1985 in here,” you commented as soon as Javier could even set his duffle and your overpacked tote on the kitchen counter and flick on the lights. “Well, at least the parts you’ve unboxed.”

“Didn’t want to get too settled.” You peered over your shoulder at him with a bit of a scowl. All he could offer in response was a shrug as he slid your coat off your shoulders and hung it next to his. “I didn’t know if I would last the first week of classes let alone the first month.”

“You absolutely did. You survived the whole fall quarter.”

“Only because of you.”

Two fingers gripped his chin and turned his face toward yours. Your eyes locked onto his. “You’ve got to start giving yourself some credit, Javier. You’re a damn good professor. Whether you like it or not.”

“Wouldn’t you rather inspect what I have decorated?” he asked, placing two hands on your hips and spinning you around. “I know you’re dying to.”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a light laugh. With a firm hand on the small of your back as he pushed you further into the apartment. “Bedroom and bathroom are that way,” he said, pointing down the dark hall.

You gestured to the closed door on the opposite side of the living room. “What’s that room?”

“Empty spare bedroom.”

“God, I hate you. You have a gorgeous two-bedroom apartment in Brentwood, and you don’t even appreciate it. An empty room, boxes still unopened. Why don’t we ever come here? Your place is so much better than mine.”

“It’s fucking depressing,” he scoffed.

“I could help you make it feel like home.” You meant that innocently. He could hear it in your tone. You were probably only referring to adding a few throw pillows or candles or something like that, but already just having you there felt different. He’d thought he was going back home to Texas, but the truth was he felt more at home now just by being with you. “Yeah, I think you could.” You might’ve responded, but something caught your attention.

Almost reverently, you picked up a framed photograph off the lone bookshelf in his living room. “Your mother?” you asked quietly. He didn’t have to look at the photo to know which one you were drawn to.

“Yes,” he answered as he moved to stand behind you. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you back against his chest so he could peer down at the black and white photo in your hands. He was maybe five. Just a gangly boy with limbs too long for his own good and a cast on one arm from when he’d fallen off his new bike. That younger version of him sat his mother’s lap in front of a birthday cake lit with thirty-some odd candles. Much like the way he held you in that moment, his father stood behind the pair with his arms around his wife. She wore a dazzling smile that his aunts swore he inherited from her. If he remembered correctly, his father was behind the camera, muttering something that made them all laugh at the time.

“She was beautiful,” you commented. Lost for words, Javier pressed a kiss to your temple. But the mood clearly shifted. “And you were adorable.” Your eyes narrowed as you looked back at him. “What do you think happened?”

Javier grinned at your dig. “She would’ve liked you.”

You reached for the only other framed photograph. A more recent shot of Javier and an equally mustachioed blond man sitting together at an open-air bar, both looking unusually relaxed and happy with a beer in one and their arms around each other’s shoulders. One of the rare moments like that in Colombia. “This must be Steve,” you observed.

“His wife sent me that as a housewarming gift.”

“That’s so nice of her. You need something to cheer this place up.” Still clutching the photo, you turned in his arms. “Do you– I don’t know if I’ll ever get to meet them, but do you think they would like me?”

He almost laughed at your question. It was genuine on your part but so absurdly unnecessary. “Mi compañera,” he murmured as he pressed his lips to yours, “they already do. They were surprised though.”

“Do I want to know why?” you smirked. He had a feeling you already had some inclination as to why that might’ve surprised his closest friends.

“No,” Javier laughed. He watched you as you smiled at the photo, tracing a fingertip along the image of him. A strange feeling gripped his chest. It was as if you were trying to know that version of him. “You never talk about it. I know you don’t like when others ask you about your time in Colombia, but you never even mention anything that happened down there to me.”

“You don’t want to know about any of that.”

“Why not?”

Because you won’t like me, his traitorous brain supplied. He let you go and joined Sunny on the couch. “Want me to put on the Times Square thing?” he asked instead.

“Yeah sure. I don’t mind either way,” you responded lightly. He cringed inwardly at how habituated you were to him deflecting your questions. Shaking his head at himself, he dug the remote out from between two of the leather couch cushions and switched on the television despite having no intention to watch.

A moment later you joined him on the couch, dropping down next to him unceremoniously as you draped an arm around him. “Don’t mope,” you compelled with a kiss on his cheek. He turned to you with a raised brow. “And don’t look at me like that.”

Javier held your gaze for a long time, entranced by the soft look in your eyes and the way your fingers played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. That seemed to bring him back to the present moment. “How does pizza sound?” he asked instead of a reply.

As expected, you smiled and nodded happily.

… . …

Much like your own at home, Javier’s kitchen table was covered with stacks of books, papers, and folders. Rather than clearing it off, the two of you sat on the floor around his coffee table eating pizza slices straight from the box. With the television muted in the background, you talked quietly, mostly recounting the little things that had happened while you were apart. You asked him more questions about his family, and he seemed keen to answer. You’d learned to savor every bit of himself that he elected to share with you.

After dinner, you wandered over to the unsurprisingly well-stocked bar cart, fingers dancing over the crystal glasses and bottles of whiskey and tequila as you contemplated pouring a couple of drinks. Until you noticed something amongst the mess on his kitchen table.

You picked up a book with dozens of sticky notes peeking out of it and flipped through the pages.

Talk about this in lecture.

Assign this chapter next quarter.

Fuck. She’s brilliant.

The notes went on for pages and pages. When you finally lifted your head, finding him across the room through watery eyes, Javier looked like a boy caught red handed. His wide brown eyes locked on to you as he gauged your reaction. ���You’re reading my book?” you asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

He nodded quietly. “I finished it. It’s amazing.”

“Ja– Javi.” You attempted to speak but his name was just a broken sob.

He was on his feet in an instant. With a hand on either arm, he attempted to soothe you. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” you insisted as you roughly wiped at your cheek with the back of your hand.

“Honey,” he chided as he pulled your hand away and replaced it with his own, cupping your cheek and wiping your errant tears with his thumb. “Why does that upset you?”

“I’m not upset.”

“You’re crying.” He would think that. He’d never seen you cry before. You’d cried from laughing at something he’d said on more than one occasion. There were a few tears once when you were frustrated. But nothing like this.

“That– that doesn’t mean I’m upset. It’s just– That’s–” you tried to collect yourself as you fisted the front of his shirt with one hand and pulled him closer. You took a deep breath and met his gaze. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

The scrunched up look on his face was almost comical, and you would’ve laughed any other time. “That is?” he asked, dumbfounded. Before he could say anything else, you slotted your mouth with his, kissing him with everything you had. “Of course I read your book,” he assured you, kissing you over and over again. Your body practically melted against his. “You’re fucking amazing, mi compañera” His hands moved to your face, wiping away the tears. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re... you’re crying again. What’s wrong?”

“I think I–” You stopped yourself. Or rather the words threatened to choke you, so you swallowed them down and hid them away. Instead, you caressed his face as you looked at him through half-lidded eyes. “I need you.”

Javier hesitated, watching you for a moment longer, eyes smoldering as they bored into your soul, before his mouth met yours with renewed determination.

You didn’t even bother looking around Javier’s bedroom as the two of you burst through the door. The two of you were a mess of limbs desperately trying to strip the other of their clothes. He walked you back toward the bed until your calves hit the frame.

“Why are you still holding this?” he asked, prying the book out of your hand and tossing it on his nightstand. He lifted your thick knit sweater off your body and over your head with ease and his hands quickly found the button of your black denim jeans while you worked on his shirt buttons.

As soon as your clothes had fallen aside, he laid you back in his bed, letting you rest against the pillows as he eagerly kissed a frenzied path down your body.

“Javi, wait.” He froze above you with concern in his eyes “Please be gentle with me,” you asked softly.

The implication was clear. And it weighed heavily between you.

Javier nodded once, almost imperceptibly, and you relinquished yourself to him. He changed course, and his lips found yours once more. While he kissed you, his fingers gently prodded you, stretching you out and readying your body for him. You whimpered against hip lips, wanting more than anything to feel him inside you.

“Shh, baby,” he shushed you huskily, intertwining your fingers in a tender gesture, “I’ve got you now.” You spread your legs wider, aching for him. Only him. And mercifully, he lined himself at your entrance, dripping with your desire, and slowly thrust forward, filling you to the hilt and stealing the air from your lungs.

As he moved inside you, every kiss, every touch seared your skin with invisible brands that would mark you forever as belonging to Javier. And you let him.

Neither of you said much of anything, preferring to simply breath each other in. You let the moans and mewls falling from your lips fill the room as your bodies rejoined and relearned each other. Hand in hand and warm skin on warm skin.

Until a wave of euphoria pulled you asunder and you came hard and shaking beneath him.

“You’re so beautiful. So fucking beautiful.” You only heard his murmurs of praise as you broke the surface and came up for air. He kissed away the teardrops streaking your cheeks. You tried weakly to apologize for crying again. “It’s okay,” he assured you, “I feel it too.”

You gaped at him as you watched him move above you, still buried deep inside you, chest heaving and some unspoken emotion drowning his eyes. You wanted him to feel everything that you did in that moment. Wanted to make him to feel the same sticky sweet pleasure

With little resistance, you pushed Javier onto his back and straddled his hips. He looked divine beneath you. His hands reverently caressed your back as you settled on top of him before snaking around your body to hold you tightly against him. You pressed your forehead to his as you rolled your hips, sliding up and down his cock and coating him with your creamy pussy.

Only when his chest hallowed with a broken, desperate groan did you finally take pity and sink down on him. You caught his sharp exhale with your lips. You focused on kissing him, pouring all your affection into him, and he slowly rocked up into you. It was unrushed and unhurried, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. Maybe you did.

“I need you to cum with me. Right now.” His fingers found your clit, coaxing a second climax from you.

“Let go for me,” you whispered against his ear.

Javier shattered beautifully under your touch.

… . …

Javier pulled back the bedsheets for you as you slipped back into bed next to him after spending way too long in a steaming hot shower together. “Did you bring these for me?” he asked, fingering the fabric of your satin sleep shorts with a lopsided grin. Dozens of little embroidered dogs dotted the fabric.

“Yes,” you chirped. “They always seem to make you smile.”

He shook his head at you. “No, honey, you make me smile.”

When he said things like that, he took the breath right out of your lungs. The rest of the world faded away and nothing else mattered. It was only the two. It was then that you noticed the time on the clock behind him. Time hadn’t stopped after all. In fact, it was 12:01 on the dot.

“Happy New Year, Javi,” you said with a smile. “I think this is going to be a really good year.”

“I do too,” he agreed. He cupped your cheek and guided your lips to his for a midnight kiss. “Happy New Year, baby. Now c’mere.”

You laughed as Sunny responded to his command. She seemed to appear from nowhere only to hop up on the bed and lay half on top of him with her head on his chest. “Yeah, you too,” he smiled, scratching behind her ears. You indulged for a moment, hoping you could commit the scene to memory. But Javier looked like he was on the verge of sleep, so you switched off the small lamp and happily curled up next to him. He draped an arm across your waist as you looked up at him. “I fucking missed my girls,” he mumbled before drifting off into a dream. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you watched him in the faint moonlight.

You weren’t sure if it was the holiday season or that magical stroke of midnight, but as you gazed up at him, you realized you didn’t just want Javier to be your yesterday, today or tomorrow. You wanted him to be your whole future. You wanted to spend your whole life with him because…

Your heart belonged to Javier Peña. You loved him. Truly, deeply loved him.

That thought didn’t scare you as much as you thought it would.

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

... . ...

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Javier Peña Tags: @wander-lustbabe @witchqraft 

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[dynamoe]

Boy Genius | Pro | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch 4 ←You Are Here 🛵

(Untitled Makeover Chapter)

Bad ID photos. Driving while blind. Putting makeup on your closest friend. Grieving parents. Pants hemming. Save your eyes, read it on AO3

UPDATE: I redid the illustration. That's a really terrible haircut

↓ Chapter 4 below the fold ↓

With the date of the conference fast approaching, Billy didn’t feel comfortable without exercising his own due diligence – excessive research into aspects of a subject that didn’t matter and sucked all the joy out of it in the process. He poured over Let’s Go: Pacific Northwest & Alaska, Fodor’s ‘89: SEATTLE (library copies were always out of date) and a stack of USENET print-outs while cross-referencing locations on his own hand-drawn graph paper city map.

“Ugh. You’re being such a ‘quizboy’ about this,” White cringed while unfolding an ironing board.

“That’s my name—for legal purposes— don’t wear it out,” Billy slammed his brand new forged Non-Driver State-Issued ID on the table.

White’s dodgy criminal contacts had come through with a non-driver ID, US passport, Social Security card and—bizarrely, since they didn’t ask for them— a concealed carry permit and a provisional snowmobile operator’s license.

Billy was now, on paper, 11 years old (born April 1, 198mumblemumble) with a new improbable last name.

“It’s got a better photo than on my real license,” Billy said, comparing the fake to the state’s official sloppy work. Only the top third of his head was in the shot and the DMV didn’t allow retakes.

“I can top that,” Pete muttered, setting down a surge protector to pull a chewed-up California driver’s license from his pocket. The photo was so blown out it was nearly blank. “The DMV chode behind the camera wouldn’t dim the damn flash.”

Billy examined Pete’s license photo but noticed the dates stamped over it, “White, your license expired two years ago, but you drive the Conjecture Scooter every day.”

Pete shrugged, “So sue me.”

“You need to get a new license. You’re breaking the law!”

“Pally, we just dropped two grand to get you fake papers from a forger. Do you see the disconnect in this line of conversation?”

“But there’s nothing stopping you from renewing your legal license,” Billy insisted, “It’s just committing dishonestly with no benefit.”

“The benefit of not having to go to the DMV,” Pete argued, “Plus, I save not having to bribe the guy to pass my vision test. I dunno, I feel like Colorado wouldn’t be as cheap a date as California was.”

“You CHEATED on your vision test?” Billy said, aghast.

“C’mon. Tone it down, fella,” Pete wasn’t having it, “Some people grease some palms to legally have a decade taken off their age and some people do it to keep driving despite being legally blind. What matters is we’re all fundamentally decent people at heart.”

“Wait. WHAT? You’re legally blind?”

“Driving doesn’t need sight. I do it all by instinct,” Pete winked, picking a dust mote off his own lapel and puffing it away, “Get on the milk crate, I gotta make you pretty.”

“I rode across the country on the back of a blind scooter pilot,” Billy muttered while shaking his head in disbelief and climbing onto a blue latticework box.

“Actually, I haven’t had an eye exam since I lost my United Brotherhood of Emcees, Compères and Quizmasters health plan. So... Maybe I got better?”

“It explains why you never clean up after yourself,” Billy sniffed, “You can’t actually see any of the mess you leave everywhere,”

“All of you fuzzy orange blurs are on my ass about that,” Pete whined, pulling a light close to Billy’s face while shaking out a powder brush.

White insisted they had to work out a “look” for Billy to inhabit the role of “boy genius.” Being baby-faced, big-headed and shorter than a hockey net was fine for everyday mistaken identity and the pudding bowl haircut helped, but the World Super Science Forum was prime-time.

White dusted Ben Nye rosy glow highlighter over a thick strata of concealer erasing stubble, acne and 7-10 years of bad life choices. “And you said I couldn’t fix your head with makeup.”

“I said you couldn’t make it smaller.”

“I still bet I could,” White considered, “Contouring!”

“Are you done? This whole...,” Billy gestured vaguely, not sure how to label the experience of his best friend/roommate/by-some-legal-definitions-kidnapper putting makeup on him, “...THING is extremely uncomfortable for me.”

“You really need to start wearing sunblock. And moisturize. Jesus. Your skin’s wicked dry.”

Billy rolled his eyes and shouted, “We live in the FUCKING DESERT!”

White stepped back to take in the whole look. It still needed something.

“Let me knock your front teeth out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Fine,” White grimaced. He tried another tack, “Do you have glasses?”

“I’ve never needed them. I have 20/20 vision. Or, I guess, just ‘20’ now.”

“You know that’s not what those numbers mean.”

“I can’t wear glasses. They won’t stay on,” Billy said with his hands pressed to his temples, indicating the width issue.

Pete completed some arcane archetype mental mathematics before deciding, “It can work with an eyepatch.”

“It will be a very youthful eyepatch, I promise,” Billy said wide-eyed (singular).

“A well-placed eyepatch can take twenty years off you,” White agreed, “Now drop your pants.”

🪡🧵🪡🧵🪡🧵🪡

“Where the hell did you get this suit,” Billy asked. Brand new. Almost his size. Lightweight wool. Olive green wouldn’t have been his first pick, but it was way better quality than what showed up at the Goodwill or the Sally-Am.

“Remember that school bus accident we saw on the news,” Pete said breezily, “You know, with the snowy mountain pass. The malfunctioning breaks. Losing traction. Yadda yadda. Bus goes over the edge.”

“Oh yeah. That was horrible,” Billy felt stricken, “All those first and second graders died.”

“Well, I did some digging. Couple of phone calls later, I tracked down one of the moms!”

“I’m not going to like where this story ends, am I?”

“I figured, Little Tommy DiNunzio didn’t need his First Communion suit anymore so why not put it to good use?”

“I can’t believe you went to a mother whose child had just died and—”

“Got a bargain, too. Grieving mothers are lousy at haggling,” Pete smiled.

Billy sighed and mentally added another data point to his mounting collection of evidence that Pete was a sociopath. It was a really nice suit, though.

🪡🧵🪡🧵🪡🧵🪡

“It’s a yin-yang kinda thing,” White mumbled through the basting pins he held between his lips. He found the chalk mark and slid a pin into the fabric, “Stand normally, Billy. I need these to hang straight while I mark.”

“I am trying,” he complained, “but standing on a box wearing someone else’s suit pants with your head at my crotch isn’t normal.”

“Do you wish it was,” White throatily whispered, fluttering his lashes.

Billy groaned in disgust. He never fully rid himself of the belief that this entire conference was just a prank White set up to humiliate him.

“No, seriously. There’s a method to this,” White continued to explain, marking another hem with a pin, “If we dress you like a kid in… whatever the fuck kids wear these days. Zubaz pants?”

“Ninja Turtle pajamas, maybe?”

Neither Billy or Pete knew any actual children, to the relief of parents everywhere.

“If we dress you in ‘children’s clothes’ all the non-childlike flaws stand out more. They’re anomalous, a break in the pattern. They call the phenomenon in computing ‘The Uncanny Valley Effect'.”

“That’s not what that term means,” Billy mumbled.

“So, we put you in a suit and a child in the clothing of an adult is already situationally wrong – ‘uncanny’ – so it makes you ironically more childlike.”

“That’s not what ironically means either,” Billy mumbled.

“A science conference is a formal event, White. And Boy Geniuses wear suits most of the time,” Billy observed, puncturing Pete’s theory, “I never went anywhere without a tie on from the age of 4 to 12.”

“I’m sure everyone at the playground appreciated your decorum,” Pete said as he removed his pinking shears from their box.

“Put your glasses on before you start cutting.”

“I got contacts in. Relax.”

“Those are fucking sharp. I don’t want you taking a chunk out of my… leg.”

“Castrating you now wouldn’t help,” White remarked, cutting off one trouser leg at the knee. “I mean, if I really wanted to give ya the snip I’d point out that you’re a heavy sleeper and I can move without making a sound,” He lopped off the other trouser leg.

“Hey hey hey! Why are you cutting the pants so damn short? Kids are allowed to wear long pants!”

“Short pants suit. It’s an anachronistic holdover from WWII child’s dress when your stereotype was invented, see.”

“I’m not supposed to be a time-traveler, White.”

“But to sell the illusion you’re not *a* boy genius; you’re all boy geniuses. So we can’t leave off any element of archetype. Including the slightest whiff of the pedophilic-erotic.”

“Ew.”

“The male gaze hurts all of us, Billy,” White pronounced philosophically.

White took to the sewing machine. Billy to his sightseeing itinerary. Tomorrow they flew out. They would leave arid Colorado a couple of nobodies but, if they played their cards right, they’d come back with… I dunno, maybe slightly more super science business prospects?

to be continued⟶

🛵Boy Genius | Pro | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3| Ch 4 ←You Are Here | Ch 5

[teejaysnow]

Apparently I promised someone a write up of my thoughts of 20 November. Unfortunately I can’t remember who and I’ve lost the ask because I’m an idiot. So... to whom it might concern... 😅

Okay, let’s start with the obvious - Tarjei looks really good in his stage clothes, and the way his shaved head highlights that bone structure? Hnnnnggghh!!

Now, with that out of the way…

First of all, Teaterkjeller’n is small. (According to Oslo Nye’s site it seats 120 people, but the twenty odd chairs scattered across the room at covid approved safe distance feels about right) There is a bar on one side, a tech table on the other, and in between is the stage running across the room with a huge screen at each end. The screens are split into four squares, surveillance camera style, with each square aimed at a different part of the venue, like the exit and opposite sections of the audience.

So... after having stared at yourself in black and white for an uncomfortably long time, the light is finally turned down into pitch black and Tarjei slides onto the stage. And I really mean slides, he’s just a dark shadow in the corner, practically unnoticeable until he starts to speak.

“Can you see me? I can see you. I don’t have a name yet. But soon it will be etched into your minds.”

As he speaks, he walks over to the nearest screen and looks at it with his back to the audience, and it strikes me how much Tarjei has grown as a stage actor, particularly how he now effortlessly pours his whole being into the characterisation rather than just his voice, expressions and premeditated gestures. Okay, so parts like Doody in Grease or Håkon in Snofall might not provide many opportunities for Tony worthy performances, but… well, up until Sporvogn til begjær, it used to feel like Tarjei was this very talented, good-for-his-age actor, but mostly there to watch and learn. Then, in Min briljante venninne, he’d suddenly grown into a full-blown part of the ensemble - and now, with 20 November? Well, just give the boy all the awards, because, jeez… Looks like he’s been using his time at Oslo Nye soaking up every last bit of acting skills he could get his hands on. And getting paid for it. Sneaky...

Walking across the stage he tells us that in one hour and twelve minutes, he will enter his old school as an angel of death, and that we, the audience, are not innocent in this. He keeps switching between english and norwegian through the play (just as the diaries that the play is based on switches between german and english) and the first switch to english is here, when he talks about his weapons - a sawed off shotgun, a sawed off rifle (apparently there’s a difference...), a pistol, a knife and some smoke grenades. He had planned on making some explosives as well, but even though he would have been able to get hold of ammonium nitrate for free he didn’t have any opportunities to experiment with it.

As he reaches the other end of the stage, he starts up a laptop on top of a small podium. (The wallpaper is an upside down Pepe le frog looking down upon hell, btw. The devil really is in the details…) A pretty bad rhythm track starts playing, and Tarjei launches into an even worse - and rather hesitant - rap about things he hates, like tupperware, going out, footballers and their wives, cats, himself, etc. (To quote Isak, “Have you heard the rumours about my rapping?” Umm… yeah, just no.)

After abruptly finishing the rap, he returns to how we in the audience aren’t innocent in this situation, how we don’t care about anything or anyone but ourselves, and that some people might be stupid enough to believe that things will get better - but he’s intelligent enough to realise that they won’t. He compares what he’s doing to war, and how war leads to “unfortunate” actions. Pulling up a clip of Goebbels speaking to a large crowd onto the screens, he then walks across the stage mouthing along with that speech and imitating some of the gestures made on the screen, before - once the clip ends - very firmly pointing out that he isn’t a nazi and that he hates nazis.

He walks over to the bar and picks up a can of coca-cola, explaining that his mouth has gone dry since he isn’t used to talk much because “talking is useless”. He asks if anyone knows what the most used word in almost every language is (if the audience is anything to go by, it’s silence - but then some brave person offers up the correct answer of “I”). (Apparently “coca-cola” is up there as well. As is the word “fuck”. You live and learn.)

There is a lot of usage of technology in the play. On occasion you get a dialogue between stage Tarjei and a prerecorded screen Tarjei who’s impersonating one of his teachers (and there is also dialogue between two different prerecorded screen Tarjei. So many Tarjei. I approve…) And then there is the usage of camcorders that he speaks into, giving us close ups of his face splashed all over the large screens. And of course there is the audience participation where he at two different occasions turns the camera towards the audience. The first time after going off on a tangent on how you need to have the right clothes, the right friends, the right everything from when you’re nine years old (and how girls turn into whores at the age of twelve, wanting to be fucked in the arse by older men, which… a bit specific, but okay) and he asks an audience member what brand of mobile they have, and what the mobile means to them (the first evening the woman he talked to answered “too much”, which… same, to be honest 😳), the second time is to ask another audience member (that first evening that was me - and I was very grateful to stare into a camera lens and not straight into Tarjei’s eyes) if they have a partner and if they are happy. (And then he goes off on the camera, telling it how you can only be happy either through exploiting someone else or through pure stupidity - or possibly conformity and arse licking. And how the arse you’re licking [at which point he does a very explicit show of licking his lips, btw. I’ll just leave you with that image, shall I…?] today might be connected to the foot that will kick you tomorrow.)

Somewhere in the middle of all this there is also a quiet interlude where Tarjei addresses a camera in the ceiling while he lies down on the floor and then moody music plays as he lies still for a minute before he starts convulsing rhythmically in a very aesthetic way, like an electric pulse is running through his body. (Someone is apparently taking advantage of having a dancer/choreographer girlfriend because it has a very contemporary dance vibe.)

After that interlude he talks about taking revenge and how, even though the classmates that tormented him and made his years at school a living hell have left, the teachers and staff who did nothing to prevent it are still there - and also how the new pupils are the same as the old, that they “run on the same software” while “he is a virus”.

He picks up a spray can and writes SUAPD on the wall - Skole, Utdanning, Arbeid, Pensjon, Død (School, Education, Work, Retirement, Death), before crossing it out and slowly sliding down the wall into a heap on the floor (rubbing some of the white paint into his nice, black jumper, btw - obviously no thoughts for the wardrobe department.)

Then he starts talking about how he has no choice and how he’s been driven to this stage. And we get some backstory on the bullying he’s suffered since he was six. How he’d been followed to and from school by some boys who tormented him, forced him to eat sand, hit him, and on one occasion held a key over a lighter until it was burning hot and then forced him to hold it. (Where the FUCK were the grownups??) And how he once had asked, “What have I ever done to you?” and the answer had been “Nothing. It’s just your pure existence. That’s enough.”

He turns again to us in the audience telling us to stand up. To walk out. To be free. (I wonder if anybody has ever stood up during this part? Well, at least during my two performances we were very timid audiences who stayed seated.)

He does a very good impression of what he expects the school principal and local politicians to say afterwards, how “this was completely unexpected” and that “they were unaware of any problems” - we’ve heard it all before and most probably will again.

Apparently the play thinks so too since this is where Tarjei starts talking about those who came before him, people like Robert Steinhäuser and the Columbine guys, and he pulls up security camera footage from the Columbine massacre onto the big screens and sits down to watch, almost radiating glee at the display.

All through the play Tarjei’s mercurial mood has swerved between gleeful to thoughtful to determined, and now, finally, to remorseful as he talks about his family and how he’s not going to see them again. He apologises to those he loves, and he talks about wishing he’d had a dog since “animals are the best human beings”.

He says that he’s never had a girlfriend, that he’s never even kissed a girl - but that he isn’t gay and that he likes Jill from Resident Evil. He likes her so much that he’s even named one of his rifles after her. At this, he grabs one of the cameras, walks backstage, and opens a duffel bag to introduce us to Jill. And the other rifle, BFG. And the gun, Mister Pästerich - named after Homer Simpson’s gun, apparently.

He then returns to the stage, carrying the duffel bag over to the podium, where he starts uploading his manifesto onto the internet, the screen showing the progress of the uploading bar. While waiting for the process to finish, he asks if anyone has anything to say, which… well, during my two performances no one had, but it feels like this is where the play actually gives us the opportunity to stop him. Which is the only time the text feels like it addresses the audience, despite the earlier two audience interactions.

Then, when the uploading bar reaches 100%, Tarjei straightens his shoulders, grabs the weapon bag, and disappears up the stairs - and that’s the last we see of him, no curtain call or anything. Which… is a very powerful ending to be fair, but after that kind of performance, he really deserves to come back and collect his due of applause.

So. Did I love it? Yes. There is so much to love, the production is immaculate, the set design, the sound, the music, the acting, oh my god, the acting. But I still. do. not. like. the. play.

Lars Norén is known for writing about the underbelly of society, the alcoholics, the drug addicts, the invisible people, people in crisis (although to be fair, for us of a certain age he’s even more known for putting on a play starring a couple of prison inmates, giving them an opportunity to spew nazi propaganda on stage, and then it all ended with some of them planning bank robberies and killing two policemen...), but he doesn’t really give these people a voice. In 20 November, Tarjei keeps telling us that we, the audience, aren’t innocent - but the play never really drives that home. It tells us we too are to blame, but it doesn’t make us feel it. It does give us some background to why Bastian feels that he hasn’t got any other choices, but it doesn’t grab us and force us to understand. Yes, Tarjei’s acting goes a long way in doing that - but it could have been so much stronger if the text backed him up instead of it just scratching at the surface.

So what I will remember 20 November for is the production and also Tarjei’s acting, the nervous energy he radiates, the mercurial leaps between confidence and vulnerability, between childishness and maturity, the ever changing body language, the absolute fucking stage presence, the... God, I’m going to miss seeing him on stage. Ah, well, Lillehammer’s gain is our loss - although I’m very much looking forward to whatever weird and wonderful scripts that will come out of this, so at least there’s that.

Anyway, this amazing performance deserves a lot better than the around 15-16 people in the audience - since at both my performances about one third of the ticket holders were missing. Fucking Covid...

[meltwonu]

〚 💜 𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕕𝕚𝕡 💜 〛| [Chapter 1] 

this chapter pairing; idol!Taehyung x makeupartist!reader x idol!Joshua

genre&warnings; softdom!joshua, dom!taehyung, threesome, blowjobs, reverse cowgirl baybeee, dirty talk, quickies, cum eating/sharing, hair pulling, mentions of sexting/pictures, a little praise kink, there is like one joshua x tae moment 🥰💕 HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABES!! 😭 Y’all know I had to male the first chapter of Double Dip for the birthday twins!! Here’s hoping they had a great day 💕💕 Hehe~ and also looking forward to the next chapter~! If it’s NYE for you, have a safe night! See yall on Friday for Cherry Bomb~! 💜

word count; ~3000

chapters; 1 - ?

“Taehyung, will you just sit still? Ten more minutes and you’ll be done, I promise!”

You try to get the pouting male to stand still as you apply more lip balm; eyes rolling when he only whines harder. “I wanna go see Joshua and give him our gift already though…”

“I know you do, but we have time and he can’t do anything with it right now anyway.”

Taehyung’s lips fall into a knowing frown as he nods back softly. “I guess so… It just sucks, y’know? We always spend our birthday like this and I wanna do something fun!” You laugh airily as you put your brush and lip balm away before pushing Taehyung back into the chair in front of the vanity.

“I know, I know. And we’ll get to that after you get your hair fixed.”

“But you said ten minutes!”

“If you sit still it’ll be ten minutes but if you keep moving around it’ll be twenty so you better behave!”

“‘Shua-hyung, have you seen my belt?”

Chan lets out a frustrated noise as he trips over another pair of shoes; lips pursed at how small the room was for all of the members and staff combined. “I can’t find it and I’ve been looking for the last 15 minutes and there’s just so much stuff in here!”

Joshua shoots the younger male a small smile as he gets up from his seat to help him search for the item. “I’ll check one of the other rooms. Maybe it got misplaced or put into a luggage by accident by someone.”

“Thanks hyung, you’re the best!”

He leaves the loud and bustling room, a sigh of contentment on his lips when he finally has even just a little peace and quiet in the hallway. He leans up against the wall for a moment before he pushes off and starts walking to the other changing room where they kept all of the luggages with their clothes and accessories.

“Joshua!”

Taehyung comes barreling into his back quicker than a blink of an eye and the wind gets knocked out of him as he lets out a sound of surprise as you laugh in the background. “I told him not to do it but…” Shrugging, you catch up to the two males that laugh and walk down the hallway in each other's arms.

Taehyung makes it a point to not mess up Joshua’s hair or clothes when he swings an arm around the male’s neck. “Where are you headed? Aren’t you guys supposed to be getting ready?” Joshua nods, sighing softly in return. “Chan can’t find his belt so I offered to go help. It’s crazy in there, nobody can find anything!”

“We’ll help you!” You add; smirking as you skip in front of the two. “We should check in here!”

Opening the door to the otherwise empty room, you and Taehyung share a knowing look before he’s turning on Joshua and tugging him in by his necktie.

“Hey--whoa--”

“You can take Taehyung’s belt, I can just find him another one later~ We just wanted a little time with you, is all!” Joshua blushes a bright red, eyes focused on you as you shut and lock the door.

That could mean anything, he thinks.

“But I--I have to be ready soon, our stage is almost up…” He watches as Taehyung already strips himself of the Gucci belt around his waist; handing the leather to Joshua before he makes his way towards you.

“Oh, fuck–”

Joshua’s eyes go wide, watching as you and Taehyung get comfortable in the empty changing room. The male helps you up onto the table; soft giggles spilling from his lips and yours when he starts to pepper soft kisses on your exposed neck.

‘Seventeen, you’re on in 30 minutes, please prepare for your allotted time!’

The speaker backstage booms throughout the halls and Joshua panics momentarily. “You guys, I don’t think we have enough time for this…” Joshua mumbles, cheeks burning red hot when he sees Taehyung’s hand disappear up your skirt.

“30 minutes? That’s plenty of time. We just have to move fast, is all.” Taehyung’s words are muffled against your skin but it’s just audible enough for Joshua to hear.

“C’mon, Josh~ This is one of the few times we’re all together… and it’s your birthday today. Tae, too!”

“Fine, fine, fine. Make room for me!”

“Yknow, this wasn’t really what we were gonna bring you in here for.” Taehyung comments.

Joshua throws his head back when you sink your lips down onto his cock, already too worked up when he threads a hand through your hair. “Yeah? What exactly was the original plan then? ‘Cause it doesn’t seem like cake and balloons were on the original timetable.” You moan around his cock; using your tongue to tease the head as you dig it into the leaking slit.

“Mmh, well, we were just gonna give you your gift, which really, seems so lackluster now, right, doll?” Taehyung grins at your back, hands on your waist as you sit on his cock. The three of you had moved to the vacant sofa inside of the changing room; two pairs of hands roaming your body when they’d sandwiched you in between them. 

“But she got a little too handsy in the changing room. Got her pussy all soaking before we even stumbled out into the hallway, didn’t you?” Taehyung slaps the side of your thigh just as you pull off of Joshua’s cock; a thread of spit and precum connecting your lips to the head as you whine and pout up at Joshua.

“It wasn’t my fault… I saw Tae going through the nudes you sent him of us from last week…”

Joshua smirks, tugging on your hair a little harder as you mewl and clench around Taehyung’s cock. “Ah, yeah, those… Wasn’t she so pretty in them? Sat nice and still while I took them too.” He guides you back, using his other hand to wrap around his cock as he taps your lips with the head and smears precum all over your swollen lips. “Which one was your favorite, Tae?”

The other male hums, eyes meeting Joshua’s right before he cants his hips up into you and makes you yelp and brace your hands on his thighs in return.

“Mmm… probably the one where she had her legs spread, fingertips holding her tight ‘lil hole open while your cum dripped out. She looked so pretty fucked out, lips swollen and eyes teary too. I came twice that night just looking at that picture, doll. And I know you were well behaved for Joshua, right?”

Your body feels warm and tingly at their words of praise and all you can do is open your mouth wide for Joshua again as he smiles down at you. “Such a fuckin’ good girl, aren’t you, sweetheart? Take both of our cocks at the same time even though we’re in a rush. Always so good for us.” You sink your mouth back down onto him as you swallow around his cock while simultaneously swiveling your hips atop Taehyung’s lap.

“Oh, by the way, your birthday gift from me and her was a roomkey. Not a huge gift but… Round two is gonna be at the hotel across the venue and I even got a suite with a view so we can fuck her in front of the windows.” Taehyung pauses, licking his lips as you start to bounce in his lap. “Got us some nice wine too. Think we deserve a little relaxation before the year ends.”

“Who says anything about relaxing? We have a lot to catch up on, don’t we, sweetheart? Those pictures Tae sent me of you taking his cock and the pretty ‘lil plug in your cute ‘lil ass had me up all night when he sent them.” Taehyung guides your hips, groaning softly when you raise your hips, only to slam back down onto his lap.

“Fuck she’d look so fucking good with both our cocks in her tight ‘lil cunt.”

You whine around Joshua’s cock; taking more and more of him as you start to gag when he hits the back of your throat.

You really missed being with them both at the same time. Even when they were rare moments.

Both Joshua and Taehyung were always busy at this time of the year and while you mostly worked with Taehyung, you had more opportunities with them when the stylists and makeup artists were switched around for different events; even though you had to sneak around to see them.

Most often than not, it was you seeing one of them and never all three of you together due to lack of time and similar events, which was why they shared photos whenever they could. The three of you shared one chat where you made plans to meet up and also where you all shared various pictures and videos of them both fucking you. 

And on a lot of occasions, pictures and videos of them jerking off, abdomens covered in cum when you sent them videos of you with your pussy stuffed full of toys and their names rolling off of your tongue when you’d cum.

“Ngh, sweetheart, you gonna let me cum in your pretty mouth? I wanna cum in your fuckin’ pussy but we’ll save that for later when we have more time. For now, I want you to be good for me though. I’ll reward you later, I promise.”

You hum back in response, eyelashes wet with tears when he starts fucking your throat. Joshua’s grip in your hair tightens almost painfully as he chases his high and starts thrusting into your mouth; curses and praises spilling from his lips when he feels his cock throbbing.

“Cum in her pretty mouth.” Taehyung sits up, his chest almost at your back as he brings a hand between your legs and starts playing with your clit as you whine around Joshua’s cock and squirm on Taehyung’s lap at the sensations. “And don’t swallow it, doll.”

The vibrations of your whines and moans around his cock are enough to push Joshua over the edge as he cums and fills your mouth with the salty substance. He continues to thrust shallowly into your mouth as you tease the head of his cock with your tongue and swallow around him to work him through his orgasm.

“Bet her mouth feels so good around your cock, huh, Joshua? Almost as tight as her ‘lil cunt.” Taehyung pinches your clit between his fingertips and all you can do is clench around his cock as Joshua tugs on your hair when you can’t stop moaning around him.

“F--fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fuckin’ good to us. So obedient.” Joshua’s entire body tingles with warmth when he starts to pull out of your mouth; his eyes darting down to your chapped lips when you purse them to keep all the cum inside.

Taehyung uses his free hand to tilt your head to the side, leaning over as he kisses you hard; moaning into it when he tastes Joshua’s cum on your lips.

Joshua watches as you part your lips, tongue covered in cum when it meets Taehyung’s own. “Fuck…” He bites his bottom lip before he’s leaning in too, darting his tongue out as he laps at his own cum that you push out of your mouth and into theirs. The action has you mewling loudly while your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of both of their tongues clashing against yours as they both clean the salty substance off.

Taehyung pulls away first, chuckling under his breath as he licks his lips. “Hmm, we should do that more often. Oh, maybe we should eat her out at the same time later. Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Two tongues eating your cunt out while you beg us to let you cum.”

“Y-yeah…”

Joshua sits on the table across from the sofa; cheeks hot as he watches you and Taehyung.

‘Seventeen, seven minutes to call!’

Joshua shoots you and Taehyung a look of panic, already moving to stand when Taehyung growls. “Ah, ah, ah, Joshua is gonna see your pretty face when you fuckin’ cum on my cock. Over the table. Now.” He barks, not waiting a second before he’s pushing you off his lap gently.

You scramble to get into position, looking sideways up to Joshua who holds your stare when Taehyung all but drapes his body over yours from behind. He wastes no time before he’s bottoming out in a single thrust and fucking you hard and fast against the table Joshua sits on.

“C’mon, get my cock wet, doll. Your pussy is getting so fuckin’ tight around me, I know you wanna cum. Sucking off Joshua and letting him use your throat was enough for you, huh?” Taehyung reaches a hand around to play with your clit again, fingertips rubbing harsh, quick circles on the nub as you cry out their names.

“Ah, might wanna be a ‘lil quieter, doll. Do you want them to know you had both our cocks filling you up in here?” Joshua shoots you an angelic smile, hands smoothing down your messy hair.  “Mm, he’s right, sweetheart. You wouldn’t wanna get in trouble, would you?”

“Ngh, n-no… I’ll b-be, ah, g-good…”

Taehyung slams his hips into you, cock tapping your cervix and making you whine as you thrust your hips back to meet his quick movements.

“Please, mmh, wanna---wanna c-cum…”

“Go ahead, sweetheart. I want you to look at me when you cum. Let me see your pretty face while Taehyung fucks you good.” You nod feverishly, teary eyes looking up at Joshua when you feel the tension in your body snapping.

“Fuh--fuck! J--Joshua! T--Taehyung!” You scream-whisper; body tensing up just as Taehyung starts fucking you harder as he feels his own orgasm spurred on by yours. His cock twitches inside of your fluttering walls and you can’t help the mental images in your head of both of them fucking your pussy at the same time and filling you up with their cum until it’s spilling  out of you.

Tiny cries of their names fall from your lips as you continue to cum and you reach out a shaky hand towards Joshua’s as he pouts and leans down; kissing you on the forehead and squeezing your hand once before he starts to stand from the table to readjust his clothes. 

“Shit, I’m really sorry but I have to go, they’d probably already pissed I’m missing for so long.”

Taehyung nods tiredly, already feeling his orgasm ebbing off just as you start to squirm underneath him from the overstimulation of his fingers still playing with your clit.

“S’fine. I’ll get her cleaned up and have her fix my makeup and we’ll leave the roomkey in your changing room. Get going before you get hell and don’t forget the belt!”

Joshua nods, checking himself in the mirror before grabbing the leather material left forgotten by the door. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees not a single hair out of place before turns to face the two of you; chuckling under his breath at the way Taehyung squishes you underneath his tired body.

“Sweetheart?”

You lift your head from the table, eyes slightly unfocused as you peer up at Joshua tiredly. “Mm?”

“Thank you for making our birthday less boring. I’ll see you two later!”

Joshua makes it back to the changing room with 2 minutes to spare; already sweating when he all but throws the door open.

“I found it!”

Several pairs of eyes are on him in an instant as he blushes a bright cherry red, awkwardly standing in the doorframe with a belt in hand.

Uh oh.

Chan trapezes over the mess of shoes as he makes his way towards his hyung; nervous laughter spilling from his lips as he shoots the older male a panicked look.

“Thanks, hyung!”

The younger male pushes him out of the room gently as he shuts the door behind them and all but shakes Joshua once they’re alone. “Hyung, are you insane?!” Joshua looks at him flabbergasted, head shaking furiously as he grips the strip of leather tightly.

“What the fuck are you on about? I got you your belt! See!?”

Chan lets out an exasperated noise, taking the leather belt from Joshua’s hold as he shakes it about in front of the older male’s line of vision. “The coordis have us wearing Saint Laurent tonight and this is Gucci! What are you doing with a BTS members’ belt!? That’s what they’re wearing! Did you steal this?!”

“Wh---no! I--I didn’t steal it!” If Joshua could blush harder, he would; lips suddenly feeling tingly at the way he doesn’t have an explanation for this one and the way he can’t seem to formulate one either. “J--just don’t wear it then! We’ll… leave it in the room and return it later, say we found it on the floor!”

“But how did you get it?”

Chan can’t help but raise a concerned brow at Joshua’s odd silence and crimson cheeks; nodding slowly as the older male continues to fidget and open and close his mouth like a fish out of water.

“We have to get going... But I hope you know you’re gonna have to explain this eventually.”

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

this is me trying

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

word count: 3592

[a/n: I’m so sorry that it’s taken me so long to update this and my other story. i’ve been busy with school and work. thank you for your continued patience and support]

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Series Masterlist

Age: 20 Year: Dec. 2014 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"How have you been James?”

Bucky looks out the window to his right. Hands grasped together in his lap as he sits on the dark green sofa across from the woman he's been seeing for the last 5 months.

He ponders the question, making sure to answer it honestly. He looks back at her giving her his full attention again.

"Good," he answers truthfully, a small smile planted on his face. Life has been good. School is going incredibly well. My job is going better than I could've imagined. Really learning a lot."

"How are things going with Natasha?" The older lady asks.

“Great. Really great," Bucky says with a slightly bigger smile.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," she smiles back, proud to the see progress James has made since his first visit moths ago.

After the blow up he and Steve had, Bucky fell into a depressive state. He refused to talk to anyone about what had happened. It wasn't until his younger sister Rebecca came to talk to him:

"I get you don't want to talk to any of us about what happened last week," she said as Bucky laid in bed looking out the window, his back facing her, "But you can't just stay in bed, hiding for the world. Starving yourself isn't going to solve anything.

"Sulking is only going to make you worse. It's not healthy, Buck. We're all worried. Ma is incredibly worried. She's barely been eating. I hear her wandering the house at all hours, because she can't sleep."

"You don't want to talk to us, fine. But you need to talk to someone. If not for yourself, but for Ma. Please," she begs, before leaving Bucky alone to ponder what she said.

He knew he wasn't coping the healthy way. He hadn't realized how much he was affecting his family by shutting down. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his mother. So he got himself up, took a shower, ate breakfast with his family. They were surprised to see him come down, but tried not to draw any extra attention to it. Rebecca gave him an understanding nod, which he reciprocated. After breakfast, he began his research. He decided to listen to Rebecca's advice and find someone to talk to someone to help him make sense of what is going on in his mind.

And that's how he ended up in Dr. Abraham's office.

"Have you contacted Steve yet?" She asks.

"No," he answered fiddling with his fingers, "I feel embarrassed about the way I reacted."

"That's normal, James," she assured him, "But in order to repair any damage that's been cost, you need to talk to Steve. To move forward. From what you've told me he's a very understanding person. I'm sure once you've apologized and explain to him the steps you've taken to help your mental health, I'm sure he'd be willing to accept you back into his life."

"I'm not so sure," he looked down at his hands.

"You won't know until you've tried. Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to do or what not to do. I'm just here to help you navigate your thoughts a little better. In a more healthy way. If you're really serious about living a more healthier mental life, I think you should talk to him. You don't want to really throw this lifelong friendship away, do you?"

"No, I don't," he shakes his head.

"Good. Remember to be honest," she tells him, "Vulnerability isn't a bad thing. Your feelings aren't a nuisance. it's how you handle them is what matters. I'm not saying you have to talk to him as soon as you walkout of here. I just want you to start making the notion of doing so. Our time is just about up, how about we do this. Some homework for the week.

"I want you to write a letter to Steve. Bring it in next week, you don't have to read it. But I would like to discuss it. What do you say?"

"Okay, I could do that," he agreed.

Christmas week

Steve and Elizabeth flew back home a few days before Christmas. They put their bags in the trunk of their rental car.

The car ride was silent for awhile, both tired after a long flight, now sitting in traffic on their way back to their parents' place. This would be their first time back to Brooklyn since the whole Bucky situation. The road trip back to California was fun, but there was a looming sadness over Steve. It's not like he regrets standing up to Bucky he doesn't. He just wishes thing would've played out differently. He really wished Bucky would've talked to him before he left back to California.

"How are you feeling about being back?" Elizabeth asks, while they sat in traffic.

"I don't know," Steve sighs, "Feels weird going back home and not talking to Bucky."

"Maybe you should try calling him. It's been a few months. I'm sure he'd be willing to hear you out," she said, rubbing his right arm.

"I don't want to push him," Steve said through gritted teeth, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter.

Bucky had been a touchy subject the last few months. During the first month Elizabeth would ask Steve if he'd heard from him, the answer always being no, followed by Steve shutting down. After that Elizabeth stopped asking, noticing how much it was affecting Steve, but the constant reminder of it wasn't helping. She knew that if Bucky ever did call, Steve would tell her. The only thing she could do was be patient and be there for Steve whenever he needed her.

The holidays kept everyone busy. On Christmas Eve. Steve spent it with Elizabeth's family at her grandma's house. Elizabeth found herself watching Steve play with her younger cousins, she couldn't help but giggle when they roped him into a tea party. She found herself imagining a future where Steve would do the same with their own children. She quickly shook the daydream away. Reprimanding herself a little for even thinking about kids at their young age.

On Christmas morning Elizabeth and Steve spent it with his parents. It was a nice peaceful day just lounging around in their pajamas. For dinner, Elizabeth's parents went over to have dinner at the Rogers' house. It was a nice little send off dinner for their parents who were leaving for Mexico to spend the New Years for a couples' getaway.

Elizabeth and Steve were heading to the Hamptons to spent NYE with Wanda, Thor, Loki, and Scott. They had planned to have a nice, peaceful trip.

While Steve and Elizabeth were at the Hamptons, Bucky and Natasha were spending their NYE at his family's beach cottage in Port Washington.

They were cuddled on the couch surrounded by take out containers, watching the New Years Eve special waiting for midnight to happen.

Bucky got up about 15 minutes to midnight to grab something from the kitchen. He walked back into the room with a new bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes.

"Got some champagne," he said holding it up for Natasha to see.

"Um," Natasha awkwardly shifted in her seat, "Actually about that."

Bucky looked at Nat confused, putting the bottle and flutes down on the coffee table before sitting back down next to her.

"What's wrong" he asked, grabbing the tv remote to mute the tv, and give Natasha his full undivided attention.

"So there's something I haven't told you," she says looking down at her fidgeting fingers.

"You're worrying me Nat," Bucky said, grabbing her hands to help ease her nerves

She looked up to meet his worry filled eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she announced.

Bucky eyes widen at her announcement, instantly dropping her hands. The look on her face showing she was telling the truth.

"How is that possible?" He asks in disbelief, "We've been so careful. We use double the protection. Condoms and you're on the pill."

"Actually about that," she nervously shifted under his intense gaze, "I haven't been on birth control in a little over two months."

"What?" Bucky yelled, quickly rising from his seat, "What do you mean you haven't been on birth control in a little over two months?"

"I got off of it," she shrugged trying to play it off, "It's my body and I can do what I want with it. And I just wanted to give my body a break, I've been on the pill since I was 15."

"I get it's your body, Natasha, I'm all for you doing whatever you want," he stresses, "but you should've told me. I'm your boyfriend, we have sex frequently. You should've at least had the respect of your sexual partner, letting him know that you were no longer on birth control. So in that case I could've been a tad more careful."

"We were using condoms," she half heartedly defended herself.

"They aren't 100% effective Natasha," he gripped his hair, in complete disbelief over this entire conversation, "You even know that. That also doesn't defend yourself for not telling me. You should've told me."

"I'm sorry. It's not like I was planning for this to happen," she yelled.

Bucky just stared at her like she just grew two heads. How is she not freaking out, he thought. They were clearly way too young for this. Which is why they took precautionary measures.

After a few moments of silence Natasha spoke up, "I'm keeping the baby."

Bucky didn't know what to say. He felt the room closing in on him. He started having a hard time catching his breath.

"James," Natasha quietly said, getting up to check on him. He raised his hand, silently telling her to stay where she's at.

He headed for the back door, the house felt too suffocating for him. He walked through the the small yard to the gate that led to the beach. Stumbling around.

To a stranger they would just think he's drunk. In reality he was just having a panic attack.

It was all too much. His mind was racing.

She's pregnant. With a baby. My baby. I'm going to have a kid. I'm going to be a dad. I'm not ready to be a dad. My dad was shit. God I can't be like my dad. I'm not ready for all of this.

He put his hands on his knees, hunched over trying to catch his breath. But he just couldn't. He did the only thing he could think of. He pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew would help.

Steve and Elizabeth were laughing with their friends, waiting for the countdown to begin. Steve felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He moved his shoulder off of the back of the couch, where Elizabeth was cuddled up against.

He pulled his phone out and his heart dropped at the name that appeared. He quickly got up and walked out of the living room and upstairs to the room where he was staying in for the week.

Wanda raised her eyebrow at Elizabeth, who just shrugged her shoulders, equally as confused.

"Bucky?" Steve answered the phone, closing the door behind him. He could hear Bucky hyperventilating on the other side.

"Steve," he tried to get out.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Steve asked, pressing the phone even closer to his ear the sound of everyone downstairs counting down to midnight.

"Steve, I-," Bucky was struggling to get out.

"Buck, please try to calm down," Steve stressed, "Inhale, hold it for a few seconds and then exhale. You need to calm down. I can't help you, if I can't understand you."

Bucky tried his best to calm himself down, with Steve talking him through it.

"Now, can you explain to me what's wrong?" Steve asked, hearing Bucky's breathing leveling out more.

"I-I'm not re-ready Steve," Bucky stutters, sniffling his nose.

"It's okay take your time, I'm here whenever you're ready."

"No, it's Natasha.”

"What's Natasha? Is she okay?" Steve questioned, getting more concerned.

"Yes, she's fi-ine," he stuttered again, trying to say the words.

"Where are you Buck?" Steve asked, looking around for his shoes and keys.

"I'm at the beach cottage."

"I'm in the Hamptons. Is there any way you can meet me back at my place?"

"Yeah, I think I can," Bucky said a bit more calmer now.

"Okay, I'll see you soon."

When midnight struck Elizabeth went upstairs to check on Steve, making sure everything was okay. She could hear him on the phone talking to Bucky, trying to calm him down. She waited outside of the door to give them some privacy.

Twenty minutes later Wanda went to go check on them, to find Elizabeth sitting on the floor.

"Is everything okay?" She whispered.

"I don't know," she answered, "I'm waiting for Steve. You can head back down, I'll be down shortly."

"Okay. We're here if you guys need anything," Wanda said before walking back down.

After another 25 minutes Elizabeth heard Steve hang up the phone. She softly knocked on the door, and let herself in. She walked in to see Steve frantically going around the room collecting his things.

"Steve is everything okay?"

"It's Buck. He called me while he was having a panic attack. Something about Natasha," he tells her.

"Is she okay?"

"I think so. I was able to calm him down. I need to get back home," he said putting his things in his suitcase.

"Okay. I completely understand. Do you want me to go with you for the drive?" She asked.

"I don't want you to have to cut your time here short," he says, feeling guilty for bringing this on her.

"Steve, something is clearly going on with Bucky. I want you to go to him, but maybe it's best if I drove. I haven't had a drink in hours, and you seem too frantic. Please let me help," she pleaded, placing her hand on his stopping him.

Steve looked up and noticed the worry on Elizabeth's face.

"Okay," he gave in, "We'll need to leave as soon as we can."

Elizabeth nodded, quickly grabbing her weekender bag and start shoving things in. If they forgot anything's he knew Wanda would bring it back.

They said their quick goodbyes and were on the road within 5 minutes, with Elizabeth behind the wheel and Steve fidgeting in the passenger seat.

Bucky took a few minutes to himself on the beach, trying to make sure his anxiety was at rest before he headed back inside. When he entered the house, Natasha shot up from her seat.

"Happy New Years," she awkwardly said, trying to cut the obvious tension.

"Umm," Bucky scratched his head looking everywhere but at Natasha, "We need to leave."

"What?"

"I mean, you can stay if you want and I'll pick you up tomorrow," he rephrased, "But I can't stay here. I need to go. Steve is meeting me at his house."

"Steve?" She was taken back by that mention, not expecting to hear Bucky say his name. He hasn't mentioned Steve in months.

"Yeah, I called him," Bucky says rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well that's good right?"

"Yeah, listen. I really need to go, so are you going to stay or come with me?"

"To see Steve?"

"No. I would drop you off at your place," he tells her, "I'm seeing Steve alone."

"Will she be there?"

Natasha didn't really know exactly why Steve and Bucky weren't talking, at first. Then she heard that Steve and Elizabeth were dating, and it all made sense. The only person that could tear Bucky and Steve apart. She never told Bucky that she knew. Figured it wasn't worth the fight. Especially not now when she was carrying his child.

To an outsider it might seem like she got pregnant on purpose, but that wasn't the case. She knew they were too young for this, at least that's what she thought when she first found out about the pregnancy a week ago. But now that she's sat with it she's taking it as a sign that this is meant to happen. She's just really hoping that Bucky would see it, if not now but eventually.

"Listen, Natasha, I don't have time for this," he looks her in the eyes, "Are you coming or not?"

"I'll get my bag," she remarked with a snark tone, walking passed him to their shared room.

A couple of hours later Bucky was pulling up in front of the Rogers' house. 2:15 am read the clock in his car. He looked to his right, out the passenger side window to see a dark figure sat on the front steps of the house.

Bucky took one last breath before exiting the vehicle.

As soon as he opened the front gate Steve stood up from where he was sat on the stairs.

Once Bucky approached him both young men threw their arms around each other. Gripping each other tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. They stayed like that for awhile. Relishing in the comfort of being back in each other's arms. Their silent fight no longer important. All they knew in that moment was everything was going to be okay, because no matter what they'll always have each other.

Steve walked into his parents' living room holding two mugs of coffee. As he rounded the couch, he handed one to Bucky.

"Sorry, if I ruined any of your plans," Bucky apologized, "Tell Elizabeth I'm sorry for taking you away."

'Buck, don't worry about it," Steve waved him off, "She completely understands. And truth be told, I wasn't necessarily feeling in the New Year's mood."

"Yeah," Bucky sighs.

"Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?" Bucky nods his head, placing the coffee mug on the coffee table in front of him. He shifted his body to the left to face Steve.

"She's pregnant," he announces.

"What?" Steve asked, not expecting that to be the reason, he quickly placed his mug next to Bucky's.

"Yeah, my reaction exactly," Bucky said.

"What? How?"

"Apparently Natasha hasn't been on the pill in a couple of months," Bucky explains, "And even though we always used condoms, they aren't exactly 100% effective."

"Did you know she wasn't on the pill?"

"Nope," Bucky tells him, "If I knew I wouldn't been a bit more cautious."

"So she told you she was pregnant?" Steve said getting back to it.

"Yeah. She was so nonchalant about it. Like it was no big deal," Bucky stressed,

"How is she just so calm. We're not prepared for this. I'm not ready for this Steve. I can't be a dad. I don't even know how to be a decent human being."

"That's not true Buck," Steve disagreed.

"Come on Steve, we haven't talked in months, and we both know it's not because you didn't try," Bucky says, "I was so caught up in my own jealousy. And selfishness, that I never even considered your feelings or Elizabeth's. And I don't think I can ever make it up to you for treating you like you're nothing to me."

"You were hurt," Steve tried to excuse.

"Doesn't excuse the way I behaved," Bucky says, "I know that now."

"I've been seeing a therapist," Bucky informs him, "I never realized how much my mental health was taking a toll on those around me. So after our fight, I found someone to talk to. To work through the shit that's going on in my mind."

"How's that been going?" Steve asked.

"Good," Bucky gives a half smile, "Really good. She's good. I've realized a lot about myself that I didn't know. Working through all the issues I've had with my father leaving."

"That's good Buck. I'm proud of you, truly," Steve beamed, patting Bucky on the shoulder.

"I really am sorry for the way I behaved," Bucky repeated again.

"Buck, you really don't have to apologize again," Steve told him.

"I need to Steve," he said, "I can't believe I acted that way. I should've been happy for you and Elizabeth. I'm glad you two have each other. Seriously. I couldn't imagine her with anyone better, same goes for you. I won't cause any more issues for you two. It's not worth not having you in my life. You're my brother Steve, and I don't want to miss anything."

"Thanks, Buck. It really means a lot to me to hear that," Steve smiles, "Because I don't want to miss anything in your life also."

"Yeah, especially now," he says, the reality of why they're there dawning back.

"How are you feeling now about the baby?"

"I don't know, man," Bucky shakes his head, "I'm afraid I'm going to screw this up, like everything else."

"But now you're working on that," Steve reminds him, "And you're not going to be doing this alone. You have people who are always going to be there. I may be in California now, but I'm just a phone call away. You're not alone. But you do have to try Buck. That's all that you can ever do. Try your best, no one's asking you to be perfect, but as long as you're trying your best, that's what's important."

Age: 21 Year: 2015

The sounds of a baby crying woke Bucky up from his sleep in the early depths of the morning. He quietly and quickly got out of bed, making his way to the small New York kitchen to make a bottle.

He walked into the small nursery where the two-month-old baby wailed from hunger.

"It's okay," Bucky shushed gently, picking up the small baby, "Daddy's here."

He adjusted the small baby in his arms before placing the bottle in the baby's mouth.

"There you go," he encouraged the small one, as soon as he heard the sounds of the baby drinking.

Bucky sat down on the chair in the corner of the room, opposite of the crib. He just stared as the newborn drank their bottle, while simultaneously falling asleep. Even though he was completely exhausted, he had never felt more happier. More at peace with where his life was at.

As long as he kept trying his best, he knows he can do this for the rest of his life.

[soyunaagente]

Dating Miguel Ángel Felix Gallardo would include

Well, you have defeated me in the end 😂 Here it is. This is my first attempt at writing anything like this so hopefully it isn’t too bad lol. 

Obviously I’m not trying to glorify these people or anything they stand for! This is solely based on Narcos Mexico :) This is only for entertainment purposes. 

My DM’s and ask box are always open! 

Miguel would need someone to be his rock- someone to ground him 

I can’t- you’re the one to bring him back down to earth after he spends the day dealing with business. Running your hands along his arms as he watches your small smile. Relieved he’s home safe. 

You know he’s had a long day when he just wordlessly wraps his hands around you, burrowing his face in your hair or shoulder. Inhaling to smell your perfume. It calms him 

Hand Holding is a thing- you can’t tell me otherwise. 

The way he gives your hand little squeezes throughout the day- whether it be just for a walk, at a dinner or a meeting. 

It reassures him when your fingers entwine with his. The warmth of your hand against his just- his rock 

When you're sitting on the couch watching a movie, just holding his hand. Every so often he’ll raise your hand and give it a kiss. 

You’re ALWAYS there to listen to him, and offer advice when needed. It was the first thing he noticed about you. A heart of pure gold. 

He melts inside when he sees the look in your eyes as he talks about his day- you care- 

The reassuring smile you give him when he talks about a problem he’s having. His heart just feels lighter. 

We know miguel is extra when it comes to special occasions. Let’s not get started on your birthday. 

From the moment you wake up the celebrations have begun. Breakfast in bed obviously. Beside the stack of pancakes is a little blue box- containing the most beautiful sapphire earrings you’ve ever seen. You begin to protest as to the cost. 

‘Pues mija, Puedes tener lo que quieras.’ 

The party he has planned- the Times Square NYE party is nothing compared to it. The poshest hotel in Mexico, the who’s who on the guest list. I’m talking Champagne Moët & Chandon is flowing. 

The classical music band plays all your favourites in a slow tempo. 

Giving Miguel an excuse to take you for a slow dance.You resting your head on his chest, his chin on the top of your head. Fingers entwined. Just keeping in time with the music.  

‘Tu eres mi mundo. Feliz cumpleanos.’ 

His heart swells with pride when he sees you doing something you love- whether it be a hobby, a job or just something that relaxes you. 

The looks of pure admiration he gives you. It gives him a break from the harsh realities of his life, just absentmindedly looking at whatever passion project you’re dreaming up. 

I get such a vibe that Miguel lovES Christmas. It’s a secret you’re sworn not to tell anyone but his favourite activity is decorating the tree. Just him sanding back proudly looking at the perfectly placed decorations. 

He’s so one for putting up the tree in the second week in November. 

You didn’t hear this from me but he also makes the best gingerbread cookies. You yell at him for all the extra sugar you’re eating. 

But he just laughs and tells you that it’s not actually possible to make you any sweeter but he won’t give up trying. 

He’s not one for PDA- especially when he’s doing anything for business. But he’ll never protest to your reassuring touch on  the small of his back- or his inner thigh when he’s sitting down. 

The ‘ten cuidado’ you say before he walks out the front door. 

He just looks back, heart melting. ‘Siempre mi amor’. 

We all know the gifts he gives you are extra as HeLl. Nevermind the above earrings. 

He has a thing for giving you jewelry. Like necklaces, rings, nothing compares to the engagement ring. Kim Kardashian’s looks like a fake compared to this rock. It honestly takes you hours to stop looking at it after he proposes. 

For every event you have precious stones to match your dress. Miguel’s face shows nothing but pride everytime he sees you wearing the stones he bought you. 

It’s not only jewelry. He has a memory better than an elephants’. You said one day you mention your favourite shoe designer in passing. Well expect a pair of shoes in your favourite colour from that designer soon after. 

He forgets NOTHING. Even the little things, they always stay with him. 

Your safety is priority number one. When he’s not there you’re surrounded only by the people he trusts. 

And has threatened seventeen thousand times. 

He literally has two people there whose only job it is to get you what you want. Ice-Cream? They’re gone to the shop and back in minutes, Swim? They have your costume in your hands before you can even stand. 

Speaking of Miguel remembering things- your dates always mean something to him. 

Seems as he isn’t always around he likes to make the time you do spend together all that more special. The restaurant where he first took you, the place you met. You’re favourite café. All places he takes you any chance he gets. 

Don’t get me started on the walks. I just know Miguel loves a long walk to clear his head. You and him, holding hands. Just a comfortable silence and the reassuring squeeze you give him. 

He’s always one for taking you out to dinner. His favourite place is a French style restaurant in the inner city. (Was there one in Mexico back then? There is now) 

Wine, food and just a flute of champers to top it off. His ideal night with you, away from reality. 

Miguel also loves hearing your voice. Another way you bring him back down to earth. 

He could just listen to you talk all day. It just gives him a break from the bullshit he deals with all day everyday. Listening to you ramble about, well, just about anything really. 

He always, always, wears the chain you gave him. He never leaves the house without it, 

‘Me matiene a salvo’ he tells literally anyone that looks at it. 

When you’re not with him, he runs his fingers along the cool metal anytime he needs reassurance. Just thinking of you. 

The one thing Miguelito can never fathom is why you have stuck by him. Through it all, his late nights, the business trips you don’t go on. How he relies on you. 

You try to remind him every day when he comes back. He can only chuckle and wonder if he was a saint in a past life. It’s the only explanation for how he landed someone like you. 

Listen just- you being the thing that keeps him, well, him. You’re just his rock. 

Overall its a relationship filled with love, respect and admiration Just a couple filled with class. 

[surrealsunday]

A NYE Mood Tattoo Not-So-Snippet...

NOTES: This is Explicit. Hear that? EXPLICIT. You’ve been warned. 

Sorry this is a little late, friends (or a little late for Canadians, VERY late for Europeans). It was supposed to be a snippet. But I think I blacked out and now it’s over 11k. So... er... Happy New Year 😂!!! Hope you enjoy. 

* * * *

Eliott turns the corner in the hospital to a not unfamiliar sight, but a welcome one all the same. Idriss and Daphne stand facing one another. Daphne has her hands on her hips, the look on her face so fierce she might look intimidating if not for what she had called her ‘New Years Eve scrubs’, pink decorated with splashes of colour like fireworks. Even in profile, Eliott can read the amusement mixed with what is likely genuine irritation, written across Idriss’s face.

And then there’s Lucas.

He stands to the side and between then, with an expression of such exasperation, Eliott can’t help the way his own face immediately breaks into a smile at the sight.

He stops before reaching the trio, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he watches. None of them have noticed him, too caught in their current squabble.

“I wasn’t the one who administered it, goldilocks,” Idriss says through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t even on shift.”

“But you followed up, muscles,” she argues. “You should have seen the error.”

“Oh right,” Idriss scoffs. “With all our free time.”

“It doesn’t require free time! It’s our job!”

“Jesus Christ, shut up!” Lucas interrupts, a hand moving to press against his forehead, before he rakes it back through his hair, his frustration clear. He seems to think better of his tone, however, when both Daphne and Idriss direct their ire his direction. “I’m just saying, I don’t care.” His voice has softened infinitesimally but it has maintained its hardened authority. “Fix it. I’ll talk to Dr. Faure. And you two better back me up after I do.”

Idriss and Daphne both cross their arms against their chests as they nod in perfect synchronicity, looking a lot like children on the received end of a scolding, who desperately want to talk back, but realize the consequences of doing so are not worth the impulse. Eliott very nearly laughs, biting his lip around his smile as he watches the scene unfold. 

It still amazes him the way Lucas can look like he’s towering over others, even when – in Idriss’s case at least – they should be the one’s doing the towering. But there’s something so powerful about the way Lucas stands, the way he speaks, and the no-nonsense way he demands everyone else keep up because he won’t be waiting on him. There’s no question Idriss and Daphne feel the same, though Eliott doubts their reactions involve a sudden and desperate desire to pull Lucas into the nearest on-call room.

“What?” Lucas asks with eyebrows raised when Idriss and Daphne continue to stand staring at him. “You waiting to be dismissed? Go.”

Daphne huffs, and with an impressive flip of her ponytail, stomps off. Idriss pauses before he takes his own leave.

“You’re a prick,” he says. Despite his words there’s a small smile on his face when he looks at Lucas. Eliott knows that feeling – loving Lucas for his prick-ish ways as much as they piss you off. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for the screw-up.”

Lucas nods. “It’s not your fault anymore than it’s mine. But we’re the one’s picking up the pieces so… just sort it, alright?” Lucas doesn’t look particularly forgiving, but his words are measured and more agreeable than Eliott would have expected, if a little exhausted. But then… it’s been a very long week.

Working straight through Christmas to the eve of the New Year has taken its toll and Eliott knows just how much of himself Lucas gives every shift. Eliott is no different, of course, but Lucas’s approach to work takes an emotional level of control Eliott will never quite understand, nor master. Something Eliott has come to realize since being with Lucas, is that the restraint Lucas uses while at work – adopting a professional veil that allows for little emotional expression outside of when he’s with the kids in the cancer ward – emotionally and physically exhausts him in a way Eliott hasn’t experienced – not like that. But despite Eliott’s protests that Lucas let himself go – relax on occasion – his boyfriend is nothing if not stubborn.

It’s alright though. It just means Eliott gets the most excellent pleasure of helping him relax, within hospital walls and outside of them. Of course, Eliott takes this honour quite seriously, and is happy to do so at every possible opportunity.

Though… Eliott considers the past week with a frown… there hasn’t been a lot of relaxing as of late. Exhaustion has won out even over everything else, including Eliott and Lucas’s fairly insatiable appetites for one another. The most they’ve managed over the past week is to wrap arms around one another as they’ve collapsed into bed together. It’s been nice. Certainly nothing Eliott would complain about. But the prospect of having the next two days off has his blood singing with the possibility of more.

Eliott lets his gaze glide across Lucas’s profile as his boyfriend turns with Idriss, saying a few more words and watching their friend disappear down the hall. His eyes catch on the side of Lucas’s neck where it meets his shoulder and a tendon strains against skin. Eliott wants to press his lips there, sink his teeth in and suck until the skin blooms with a bruise. Lucas will complain, tell Eliott he’s an asshole and leaving marks is ‘so highschool’. But then Eliott will catch him in the bathroom, staring at his own reflection as he presses two fingers down on the bruise and shivers.

Fuck.

Eliott wants him.

Lucas turns back towards the nurse’s station, depositing the paperwork he holds onto the surface and leaning over to leave a note. The line of his jaw is sharp. He’s clearly still irritated, his authoritative mask still in place. It slips the moment he turns, and his eyes finally catch Eliott’s. His formally hardened expression softens instantly, and he smiles. Eliott’s smile mirrors Lucas’s own and he presses off of the wall and approaches as Lucas does the same.

“So, you just stood there and watched as I dealt with those two?” Lucas says the moment they stop in front of one another. He’s cocked an eyebrow, but paired with the sweet smile on his face, the effect only makes him look like the sort of adorable troublemaker you want to smother in kisses… or, maybe that’s just Eliott.

Eliott raises an eyebrow to match Lucas’s in challenge. “You’d rather I’d have stepped in to rescue you?” Lucas snorts but doesn’t answer, both of them knowing Eliott’s idea of a rescue would be anything but. “Besides,” he adds, letting his eyes drag down Lucas’s body before they travel back up again to meet his eyes. “I like watching you.” Eliott knows he’s not imagining the way Lucas’s cheeks have taken on a sudden, rosy tinge.

Lucas’s eyes skitter away as he scoffs. “Perv.”

Eliott laughs. “Hey, I meant that in a purely innocent way. Just appreciating how hot and in-charge you are. In a strictly professional sense of course.”

“Mmhmm,” Lucas hums as he looks back to him, clearly not believing a word Eliott says. “What are you still doing here, anyways? Thought you were gonna go home to check on Daisy before dinner.”

Eliott nods, glancing towards the clock hanging above the nurse’s station. Shift should have ended almost an hour ago.

“Got caught up,” he admits, looking back to Lucas. “You too?”

Lucas nods. “Bit of a screw-up. Gotta go find Faure. You go home and check on Daisy. We can meet at dinner.”

Eliott eyes him suspiciously. “What about your clothes?” On a normal day, Lucas could get away with casual wear for a dinner with friends, but a New Years Eve celebration demands a different level of formality.

“Brought ‘em with me,” Lucas says with a shrug. “I’ll get ready here.”

Eliott takes in Lucas’s overly casual disposition. “This isn’t some elaborate plan to be late to dinner, is it?”

Lucas rolls his eyes and Eliott can hear the sarcasm in his voice before he even speaks. “Why would I ever want to be late to dinner with your ex?”

Eliott sighs, smiling despite himself as he reaches to pull Lucas closer by the front of his scrubs – a move Lucas allows likely only because the surrounding hallways appear to be deserted. “Anna was never my girlfriend,” he says unnecessarily. Lucas knows this so course. “And it’s not like it’s just dinner with her. Yann will be there,” he reminds Lucas, though it once again feels a bit unnecessary – not like they haven’t already discussed this dinner at painful length. “Idriss and Manon too.”

Lucas doesn’t look comforted by this at all, though Eliott didn’t expect him to. “Idriss won’t even get there until later.” A result of Idriss working a longer and less convenient shift than them. “It’s a double date and you know it.” His lower lip juts out just enough to hint at the pout he would have committed to if not for their current work setting.

“Yeah,” Eliott agrees with a shameless shrug. That had been the point of course. But he and Yann had agreed to somewhat soften the potential Lucas-shaped reaction to such a suggestion, by expanding the guest list to include the other couple. “And it’s going to be fun.”

Lucas dips his head and steps closer, curling fingers into the front of Eliott’s scrubs and looking up through his lashes. Eliott’s mouth drops open, surprised by the sudden change in mood from his boyfriend, but far too enraptured to question it. “More fun than staying home?” Lucas bites his lower lip, letting it pop from his mouth shiny and wet. “Could stay in bed,” Lucas continues, his voice soft and suggestive. “Just me and you. Naked.” He blinks slowly, his eyes wide and deep blue. “I could ride you. Ring in the new year with you inside me.”

Eliott shudders, squeezing his eyes. It does nothing to stop the flood of images filling his brain. He slips his hands down to Lucas’s waist, squeezing as he opens his eyes and calls on every measure of self-control he’d normally allow to desert him when faced with such a suggestion. “You are…” He stares at Lucas’s guileless face – a façade he’s perfected, “an unbelievable brat. And we’re going to dinner.”

Lucas huffs, shoving Eliott away from him and crossing his arms across his chest with his face turned away. “You used to be easier for me.”

Eliott laughs and it comes out as a low rumble, the air between them so heady with want, he’s beginning to question his own decisions now too. “You have no idea how easy I am for you, baby.”

Lucas’s eyes track back to him and rest for a moment. “You better make good on that later.” It should be a threat. Instead, it sounds only like an invitation.

Eliott nods. “I will.” It’s a guarantee and they both know it.

“Fine.” Lucas’s arms fall back to his sides. “I need to get going. I’ll see you at the restaurant then.”

Eliott nods. “See you there.” He doesn’t make a move to leave.

Lucas stares at him for a moment before he turns and begins making his way down the hall.

“Dr. Lallemant,” Eliott calls after him, smile already growing on his face.

Lucas stops and glances back curiously. “What?”

“It’s red. Definitely red.”

Lucas’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion before his eyes clear with understanding and he glances down at his arm, his tattoo half exposed by the way he’s pulled up the sleeves of his lab coat. When he looks back up it’s with his middle finger raised. Eliott laughs, watching as Lucas spins back around and rushes down the hall.  

In all honesty, Eliott isn’t sure how they’re supposed to make it through a dinner with friends, and the party at Alex, Emma, and Lucille’s that is to follow, without jumping one another. The anticipation feels tangible in the air, licking at his skin, both hot and cold. He can practically see the flames form, blue at their core, red as they lick at his skin. One thing is for certain, if history has taught Eliott anything… Lucas is worth the wait.

* * * *

“And how’s my baby?” Eliott asks before rethinking his choice of words. “Don’t tell Lucas I call you that when he’s not around. He’s the jealous type.”

Eliott smiles down at the furry face of Daphne’s pet bunny. Eliott and Lucas had agreed to care for her over the next four days as Daphne and Basile were going away following Daphne’s shift at the hospital. Eliott and Lucas had been pondering getting a pet for a while but being as busy as they were at the hospital had decided to put it off until they knew they could devote themselves a little better to the undertaking. Knowing how much they both missed having pets around, however, Daphne had given them a chance to take care of Daisy while she was away. ‘A pet-parent test run’ she’d called it and they’d been more than eager to accept. And so, Daisy was theirs – at least for the next four days.

Eliott pulls her from her cage, giving her the requisite snuggle and kisses before he lets her down on the floor to explore and goes about cleaning her cage, providing some fresh water and food, before cutting up a couple radishes and strips of bell pepper to leave her as a treat for later. Maybe they spoil her a little. Eliott feels confident Daphne won’t mind, and Lucas and Eliott had both agreed that as Daisy’s uncles it was their job to overly indulge her.

Eliott spends a little too much time playing with Daisy and is forced to rush through his shower, changing quickly into a simple maroon button up shirt, and black slacks. He’s just pulled his coat on and is scrutinizing his artfully tousled hair in the mirror by the door when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Eliott smiles when he sees Lucas’s name on the screen.

He picks up. “Hey baby, I was –”

“Where are you?!!”

Eliott’s eyebrows rise, surprised by the ferocity of Lucas’s tone. He quickly glances towards the clock on the stove in the kitchen. There’s a good five minutes until their dinner reservation and the restaurant is right between their apartment and Eliott’s old one. They’d specifically planned it that way. At this pace, he’d likely have ended up being five or so minutes late but… the point is, he’s not late yet.

“I’m… on my way.” It suddenly seems in the best interest of his desire to have sex with Lucas again at some point in the future that he not tell Lucas he hasn’t left yet. He rushes to collect his keys as he speaks. “Why?”

“Why?! Because I’m here you asshole, and so is SHE.”

Never in his wildest dreams did Eliott expect Lucas would be early to dinner. “Oh.”

“Oh? Oh?! That’s what you have to say? I swear to –”

“Wait,” Eliott interrupts as he locks their door, hurrying down the building’s hallway, “you’re calling me with Anna right there?”

“She went to the bathroom,” Lucas huffs. “Probably ‘cause she knows this is fucking awkward too and that our boyfriends suck.”

“Yann isn’t there?” Eliott asks, knowing immediately this was a stupid question to ask.

“If he was here, would I be calling you?! He’s late too, the dickhead.”

Eliott decides against pointing out he’s not actually late – not for another two minutes. “Well, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“And what am I supposed to do ‘til then?!”

Eliott holds his breath for a moment so as not to laugh. “Talk to her maybe? Make conversation.”

Lucas is quiet for a moment. “God, I hate you.”

Eliott grins, pushing out of the front door of their building and making his way to the street. “You don’t.”

“She’s coming back. I have to go.”

“Love you, baby,” Eliott rushes to say before Lucas hangs up. “Please don’t kill one another before Yann and I get there.” Lucas hangs up.

Eliott tucks his phone back into his pocket, picking up his pace to a gentle jog.

It’s not Anna he has to worry about – not Lucas either really. That’s the ridiculous part of Lucas’s protests when it comes to spending any time with Anna. Eliott is almost positive Lucas actually likes her. It makes sense really. They’re both funny, smart, witty people, able to trade barbs and jokes with the sort of seamless back and forth that’s more familiar in a scripted movie than real life. And Eliott is positive Lucas harbors a grudging amount of respect for the way Anna refuses to back down when faced with any misplaced animosity directed her way in the form of one blue-eyed boyfriend. But while Lucas and Anna’s tentative foray into friendly acquaintance has been in process for months, they’ve never been forced to test their precarious comradery while alone. This was admittedly not a contingency he and Yann had considered. Eliott slows his pace enough to pull out his phone and text Yann.

You almost at the restaurant?

Yann responds immediately. Had to drop something by my mom’s. Running a bit late

Eliott sighs unhappily, texting back. Same. He adds a few alarm bell emojis for good measure.

Yann texts back a series of question marks.

Lucas and Anna are there. ALONE. Eliott stares at his phone as he watches the typing bubble appear on Yann’s end.

Oh fuck

Eliott snorts. Please hurry. And pray he doesn’t murder me too

On my way

* * * *

When Eliott rushes into the restaurant, harried, perhaps a little sweaty, and eight minutes late, it’s to a sight he didn’t foresee. While he hadn’t actually expected Lucas and Anna to be in the midst of an all-out brawl, the picture before him seems just as impossible.

Anna and Lucas are sat across from one another at a table for six – not just sat across from one another but leaning towards one another. They’ve both got their forearms pressed to the table as they speak, heads bent forward and together in body language that would suggest… well, a date, if Eliott didn’t know better. Anna is smiling as she speaks, waving a hand in gesture through the air as Lucas listens. And even more shockingly, there’s a slight smile on Lucas’s face, begrudging maybe, but present all the same. He’s nodding as Eliott approaches.

Anna cuts herself off as she sees Eliott. “Oh, well, look who decided to show.”

Eliott smiles with a bashful shrug. “I’m not the only one who’s late.” He nods towards the empty chair beside Anna.

“Yeah,” Anna agrees. “But my boyfriend warned me he’d be late. What about you?” She raises her eyebrow like she knows the answer. She likely does.

“I didn’t think I’d be late,” Eliott says, adding a bit of a pout in fruitless hope of garnering some sympathy. He slips off his coat and folds it across the back of his chair. Taking the seat next to Lucas, he directs pitiful eyes his boyfriend’s way. “I planned to be on time.”

Lucas snorts, looking back to Anna. “Probably convinced himself Daisy didn’t want him to leave and spent an extra ten minutes cuddling her. That or he lost track of time doing his hair.” Eliott cannot admit that Lucas is right.

Anna laughs. “That sounds likely. Always was too nice and pretty for his own good.” Eliott winces, looking to Lucas in preparation for his boyfriend’s irritation with Anna for acknowledging any positive attributes in Eliott. But Lucas is… laughing? Eliott stares agape as his boyfriend speaks, his voice relaxed and amused.

“It’s a deadly combo really, but I guess you know. Yann’s so nice sometimes it actually pisses me off.”

“Oh lord, tell me about it,” Anna expels in a dramatic breath. “We’re walking the other day,” she leans forward as she begins her story and Lucas mirrors her position, “and he sees this old lady struggling with her grocery bags –”

“Oh god,” Lucas groans as though he’s already guessed where this story is going.

Anna nods in agreement with the unspoken assumption. “He insists on helping her. Not just organize her bags – oh no, no – we have to walk her home. The lady lived, like, three blocks in the opposite direction we were going.”

Lucas laughs. “Shit. That sounds just like him.”

Eliott doesn’t understand why they’re sharing this anecdote as though it were a bad thing. “But that’s nice,” he protests with a frown. “What if she couldn’t have made it on her own?”

Lucas looks to him with a dramatic roll of his eyes, glancing back at Anna. “So now you know I literally feel your pain.”

Anna giggles. “For real. And it’s not like I wanted the lady to struggle or something. I would have helped her get organized and sent her on her merry way.”

“Totally practical,” Lucas agrees with a resolute nod.

“And we’re not at the beginning of dating,” Anna continues. “Like the kid doesn’t need to impress me, anymore. Believe me, I’m impressed.” She adds a suggestive raise of her eyebrows and Lucas laughs. “Nah, he just does this stuff out of the goodness of his heart.” She says it as though this is a miraculous – and perhaps ridiculous – quality for a man to possess.

“A freak of nature,” Lucas agrees with a shake of his head. “Should’a seen teen-me trying to get over his ass when he insisted on being such a nice guy.”

“The nerve,” Anna laughs. “He could have at least been gay if he was going to insist on being nice to you.”

“All I’m saying,” Lucas agrees with a laugh of his own.

Eliott’s gaze swings between them both, incredulous. “You told Anna you crushed on Yann?” He and Lucas have barely even discussed that. Though perhaps that’s due to Eliott’s desire to forget entirely that Lucas has ever been attracted to other men – celebrities they are unlikely to ever meet being the only exception.

Lucas glances at him quickly with a shrug, before directing his attention back to Anna. “I ever tell you about the time we were in the locker room and he changed extra slow so I could have a look?” Eliott frowns.

“Shut up!” Anna laughs. “He would.”

Eliott watches as Lucas goes about retelling the story to Anna’s delight. He should be glad they’re getting along. And he is – don’t get him wrong, he is. It’s all he and Yann have wanted. But there’s a niggling feeling like disappointment sitting in his gut too, and Eliott can’t totally explain it. Or perhaps he can. He knows what it is. It just feels too ridiculous to acknowledge out loud – even if ‘out loud’ means ‘inside the privacy of his own mind’.

It’s only that… he likes the way Lucas gets all huffy and possessive when Anna’s name comes up. And no, Eliott doesn’t want a relationship of mistrust and jealousy. But he and Lucas aren’t like that. Not normally. They love one another. They trust in their relationship and one another. But… well… sometimes it’s fun to want one another so badly, they can’t help but behave like the occasional jealous moron when it comes to others. And sometimes it’s even more fun to work out that pent up frustration in other – less public-restaurant appropriate – ways.

And yes, Eliott will agree, he’s definitely an idiot. He needs no convincing where that is concerned.

He sighs and tunes back in just as Lucas is saying, “Fuck. A whole four minutes. Consider yourself lucky.”

Eliott narrows his eyes suspiciously. “What are you talking about?”

Lucas looks over to him, his eyes reflecting challenge. “You’re sitting right here. Shouldn’t you know?”

“He was ignoring us,” Anna jumps in to comment. “We should probably be insulted.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees with a smile as he continues to look at Eliott. “But he probably just got lost in imagining me naked. It happens.”

Eliott is torn between being insulted and, well… actually picturing Lucas naked. It’s not his fault! Lucas put the thought right there. “You don’t need to speak of me in third person when I’m literally right here.”

Lucas grins, bringing a hand up to brushing fingers along the shell of Eliott’s ear. “Are you though, baby?” Baby. Lucas so rarely uses that term of endearment, it still hits Eliott like a ton of bricks every time he does. He’s thankfully saved in having to respond by Yann’s appearance.

“There’s my man,” Anna squeals when she sees him, standing up as he approaches the table.

Yann’s eyes widen at the sight of her. He looks at her as though they haven’t been seriously committed to one another for over five months now. It’s incredibly sweet. “Damn,” Yann crows, reaching around Anna’s back to pull her closer as he kisses her in greeting. “You sure you’re with the right guy?”

“How’s that?” She asks with a laugh, winding her arms around his neck as she leans back with a vibrant smile.

“No way a woman this beautiful gives me the time of day,” Yann continues, moving a hand to brush against the riot of natural curls framing Anna’s face.

“Must be something pretty special about you then,” Anna banters back.

“Alright,” Lucas interrupts loudly. “That’s enough of you two being disgusting. Take a seat, Cazas.”

Yann laughs and with one more kiss pressed to Anna’s cheek, he moves to do as asked.

“At least someone got a proper hello,” Eliott grumbles beneath his breath, but admittedly, loud enough for Lucas to hear.

Lucas turns to him, one eyebrow raised. “Something to say, average?”

Eliott’s eyes narrow and he sits back in his chair with a huff that maybe wouldn’t be out of place in a primary school classroom. “No.”

“So,” Yann says, looking between Anna and Lucas, “you two are getting along then?”

Anna laughs while Lucas scoffs and answers. “You’re not supposed to just ask like that. Have I taught you nothing about how to avoid situations until they blow up in your face, Yanny boy?” Yann joins Anna in her laughter and Eliott can’t help the way his mouth twitches at the corners into the beginnings of a smile. “Now, we’re gonna have to go back to pretending to hate one another.”

“Is that what we were doing?” Anna asks, her smile bright. “Here I thought there was some authenticity to that hate.”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah. But look where that gets me.” He directs a thumb in Eliott’s direction.

“You never hated me,” Eliott protests, forgetting he’s supposed to be pouting in the face of such fallacious slander. It’s to no avail, however, as the others are too taken with one another to give him any attention.

“Well, I can at least promise I won’t follow you around trying to dry-hump you like I’m sure he did,” Anna says with a laugh as she settles back in her seat with Yann’s arm resting around her shoulders.

“I didn’t,” Eliott says, sitting up slightly from his chair, feeling a lot like he’s talking into a void.

“We kinda skipped the dry-hump stage,” Lucas says with a smile, not even glancing at Eliott as he speaks. “Went right to getting his dick in my mouth if I’m honest.”

Anna laughs, looking quickly with a smile to Yann before she responds. “Well… same, so, I guess I can’t judge.” Lucas and Yann laugh.

“I’ll drink to that.” Lucas lifts his wine glass.

Anna does the same, clinking glasses with Lucas. “To dicks in our mouths!”

With truly impeccable timing, Manon and Idriss take that moment to appear.

“Uh,” Idriss grimaces at he looks down on them. “Did I miss when that became a toast?”

Manon laughs. “I dunno. Has a certain ring to it I’d say.” It leads to a new round of laughter that even Eliott – determined as he is to sulk – is helpless against.

They all settle at the table and into conversation, and eventually, when their waiter appears looking impressively bored, food too. It’s a truly pleasant evening, as Eliott and Yann knew it would be once Lucas and Anna finally relaxed around one another. Laughter comes easily and it really would be the perfect night out if not for the way Lucas is barely paying attention to Eliott. It’s not that Eliott needs his hand held at all times – not even that he needs Lucas’s focus on him, but he can’t help but feel a little like he’s being intentionally ignored. Lucas is all laughter and smiles for everyone but him. He’s being his most charming self, effusive, witty, and interesting, but it’s missing a dynamic Eliott hadn’t realized he’d gotten so used to. The shared smiles and the quick glances of understanding, that silent acknowledgement of one another in the form of subtle touches or lingering eye contact, the inside jokes and comments directed only at one another… it’s all just… absent. Eliott isn’t about to make a monumental ‘the world and our relationship as we know it are ending’ deal over it, but what he is going to do is mope. And loudly… or as loudly as one can without actually speaking at all.

Idriss’s hits the side of Eliott’s leg just as everyone are finishing up their main courses. He waits until Eliott glances at him before he speaks in a quiet enough voice that it’s almost lost in the riotous conversation happening across the rest of the table.

“What’s up with you pouting all meal, bro?”

Eliott’s frown deepens. “I’m not.”

Idriss’s expels a disbelieving breath. “Right.” He glances past Eliott towards Lucas before asking, “You two fight or something?”

Eliott shakes his head, sighing as he glances towards Lucas who sports a bright smile as he chats with Yann and Anna. He feels like a dick for being upset when Lucas is clearly having a great time – when that is all Eliott wanted. He’s just… a mess.

“No.” He turns back to Idriss, not bothering to school his unhappy expression. “We’re fine actually.”

Idriss’s eyebrows pull together with concern. “You wanna take a breather?” He juts his chin towards the exterior of the restaurant. “I’ll come with.”

“That’s a good idea,” Manon interrupts, having rounded from her side of the table to wrap arms around Idriss’s neck from behind. She presses a kiss to his cheek. “I was going to go freshen up in the bathroom. Maybe you should do the same, Eliott.”

He stares at her in confusion before grabbing for his napkin, horrified, and pressing it about his mouth. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Bro, I would have told you,” Idriss laughs. Eliott doesn’t actually agree with that statement. Once, Idriss had let him approach a hot guy at bar with the tail end of his shirt hanging through his open fly like a very tiny, white dick. But he generously doesn’t mention that memory – not particularly wanting to relive the humiliation himself.

“Nothing like that,” Manon says, brushing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I only meant you might feel a little better if you had a chance to splash some water on your face. That always helps me.”

Her suggestion is still incredibly odd and feels just a little out of place, but Eliott shrugs, figuring its better than continuing to sit and sulk at the table. It also occurs to him that perhaps she wants to speak to him away from the table – maybe there’s an issue with her and Idriss? – and while the last thing he wants to do is take on the worries of another couple, it would be the very least he could do considering the many ways Idriss and Manon have been there for Lucas and Eliott.

“Alright.” He stands from the table, glancing towards Lucas but his boyfriend doesn’t pay him any mind, steadfastly continuing the retelling of a story to Anna. He’s talking about a recent article he read about the removal of an enormous tapeworm from a surgical patient. He’d already excitedly told Eliott about it as they’d laid together in bed one evening reading. It’s the least dinner appropriate story Eliott can imagine. He loves that Lucas isn’t the least bit concerned by that, continuing in his graphic retelling as Anna’s face transforms with more and more disgust. It makes Eliott smile, perhaps a little sadly, as he turns to accompany Manon to the restaurant’s bathrooms.

Manon doesn’t speak as they begin walking, a serene smile on her face.

“Are you and Idriss ok?” Eliott asks, more bluntly than he ever would normally but he doesn’t quite have the energy to be anything but. And it’s not like a very short walk to the bathrooms allows for any subtly.

Manon looks to him in surprise. “Yes. We’re great. Why do you ask?”

Eliott gestures around them as they walk. “Thought you wanted to get me alone to talk shit about him maybe.”

Manon laughs lightly. “No. Nothing like that. I’d say we’re still very much in the honeymoon stage.”

Eliott smiles a little. “I’m glad.”

They pause awkwardly outside the bathrooms and she turns back to him with a mischievous smile. “I suppose it is a bit annoying that I can’t ever save leftovers. He eats them all.”

Eliott laughs. “I know. You can’t even hide them. Once I tried the back of the freezer and –”

“Me too!” She cuts him off with a laugh. “I saved the rest of this amazing chocolate cake I couldn’t finish at the restaurant. I tucked it under the frozen Brussel sprouts, and I was sure he wouldn’t find it but –”

“He did,” Eliott finishes for her. “Yeah. Been there. No delicious food is safe from Idriss.”

“He said anyone who didn’t finish dessert deserved to have their leftovers eaten,” she finishes with a snort, affection dripping from her every word.

“Eh. He might not be wrong there.” Eliott laughs as Manon swats at him.

“Well, you live with Lucas who will absolutely eat you out of house and home, so I won’t feel too sorry for myself,” she says as Eliott snorts in agreement. “Anyways, I’m going to go freshen up. You should do the same. I’m sure you’ll feel better.”

Eliott isn’t so convinced but he does as told. He pees and washes his hands, leaning against the counter as he stares at himself in the mirror. There’s no one else in the communal bathroom, and he takes a moment to feel sorry for himself. It’s silly to work up such a fuss over the loss of attention of one’s boyfriend for the finite duration of a meal, but it’s such a rare occurrence to not have Lucas’s attention, Eliott isn’t quite sure what to do with this needy feeling gnawing at his gut.

He turns the tap on for the cold water and leans down to splash it on his face, listening as the door to the bathroom opens behind him. That’s just great. Now some random person is going to know him as the weirdo who washes his face in the restaurant bathroom. Eliott quickly straightens and reaches for the stack of paper towels on the counter. He pats his face dry before he dares to look up into the mirror’s reflection to see if the newcomer has given him any notice. He stops short when he sees the face staring back.

Lucas.

Eliott turns around, reaching to throw away the paper towels before he looks back to Lucas in question.

“Need to pee?” He asks somewhat stupidly, feeling strangely insecure and maybe a little out of sorts.

“Remember the first night we met?” Lucas asks instead of answering.

Eliott’s eyebrows fly up in surprise. As if he could ever forget. “Yes. Of course.”

Lucas approaches him slowly, stopping when they’re separated by a meter of space. “You followed me into the bathroom then.” He smiles a little, looking away as he gets lots in the memory. “So fucking smooth I didn’t know what the hell to make of you.”

Eliott laughs a little, his smile widening as Lucas looks back to him. “I really wasn’t. I was seriously freaking out actually. But…” He shrugs, “felt important you thought I was smooth.”

Lucas tilts his head as he looks at Eliott, small smile decorating his lips. “Offering up a blowjob was pretty smooth.”

Eliott shrugs, unashamed and unabashed. “You can’t blame me. Look at you.”

Lucas steps closer, stopping when they’re separated only by the width of a stretched hand. “Sure I can.” He says it softly, tilting his head back as he looks at Eliott. It sounds a lot like he means something else – like kiss me should be in place of the words he’s spoken. But despite the very real need Eliott feels to meet this silent demand, he can’t quite let go of his former sulk.

“You’ve been ignoring me all night.”

Lucas doesn’t look particularly surprised by this complaint, his eyes just barely registering acknowledgement. “I have.” It sounds more like a statement than a question.

“Yes,” Eliott confirms unnecessarily. “Laughing with everyone. Talking. Being all… cute and funny. But not to me.”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise and his smile pulls into a bit of a smirk. “And you think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Eliott frowns. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

Lucas breathes a slight laugh. “Exactly. Sitting there pouting because I wasn’t giving you any attention.”

Eliott can’t exactly argue with that. “Well… so? You’d be the same if I was ignoring you.”

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees easily with a shrug. “Probably.”

“So then why?” Eliott asks, staring at him in confusion.

Lucas licks his lips, and Eliott notices there’s a flush to his cheeks that wasn’t there previously. “I can’t look at you when I’m like this. I can’t talk to you – feel your eyes on me like this.”

Eliott’s mouth parts as he stares down at Lucas. “Like this? Like what?”

Lucas looks around them, glancing to the empty stalls before he takes hold of Eliott’s shirt, spinning them so his back is to the mirror. He reaches for the button on his own pants.

“Lucas,” Eliott warns in a hushed whisper, glancing quickly to the surrounding bathroom though he knows it’s empty, “we can’t. Anyone could come in.”

“I know.” Lucas doesn’t look at all deterred. He unzips his pants and reaches for Eliott’s hand.

Eliott is helpless to stop him, so desperate to get his hands on Lucas, every patron in the restaurant could walk in on them and Eliott would probably only shrug. Lucas doesn’t pull the hand to the front of his pants as Eliott was expecting, however, and Eliott’s eyebrows fly up in surprise as Lucas instead presses Eliott’s hand to the back of his pants, pushing it down against his heated skin.

Eliott steps closer, pressing their bodies together with a shudder as he gropes at Lucas’s ass. “Baby…”

“Lower,” Lucas directs, his breath now coming in quick pants.

Eliott does as told, knowing their time alone in the bathroom is precarious and undetermined, and having no idea what it is Lucas has planned. He slides his hand lower, fingers seeking until they reach the area on Lucas’s body he’s come to know so well – that he’s worshiped with his fingers… his tongue… his cock. Only… he freezes… this is not at all what he expected.

“Lucas…” He sounds awed which is only appropriate. His fingers prod at the hard, circular shape blocking Lucas’s hole from his prying fingers.

“Can’t look at you when I know,” Lucas pants, his words a rush of breath as Eliott’s fingers continue to feel out the butt plug Eliott now realizes Lucas has had inside him the entire evening. “Can’t talk to you, touch you, without thinking about it.”

“What?” Eliott prompts, so turned on he feels dizzy with it. He gets his fingers around the rim of the plug and tugs, watching as Lucas gasps loudly, falling forward to press hands against Eliott’s chest.

“You,” Lucas pants, looking up at Eliott with dark eyes. “You inside me. Knowing –” He chokes on a breath as Eliott’s fingers continue to prod at the plug. “Knowing I’m ready for you – stretched for you – for your cock.”

“Lu, baby –” Eliott doesn’t get a chance to finish his thought when Lucas is grabbing his forearm and pulling his arm away, removing Eliott’s hand from his pants. “But…” Eliott trails off desperately, watching with disbelieving, confused eyes as Lucas goes about refastening his pants. His dark jeans bulge a little at the front, but he looks otherwise just as put together as he had when he’d entered the bathroom.

Lucas looks back up and bites his bottom lip. Eliott needs to kiss him and is only stopped by the firm hand Lucas presses to his chest when he realizes Eliott’s intent. “We’ve got a dinner with our friends to finish,” Lucas points out. Eliott is satisfied to see his breath remains unsteady and affected. Eliott has never been less interested in socializing with the people he loves more than right fucking now. “Was your idea after all.” Lucas smirks and Eliott can’t do anything but stare at him with renewed awe.

“You’re…” He can’t even finish the thought. Lucas has done it to torture him. He’s… diabolical. The most cheeky… clever… teasing brat on the planet. Eliott loves him so goddamn much.

Lucas smiles, as smug as anything. “Now c’mon. We wait any longer they’re gonna think we’re hooking up in here.” With that he spins on his heel and makes his way to the bathroom door.

Eliott stares down at his own pants, more formal than Lucas’s and more clearly showing the shape of his erection stretching the front of the fabric. He sighs, untucking the ends of his shirt and letting them hand down his front. He’ll look a bit like a slob but better that than a horny pervert with a dick so hard it could be registered as a weapon. He buys himself an extra moment to compose himself as he washes his hands once more, but it does nothing to help the way his heart is pounding in his chest. 

Lucas is smirking as Eliott turns to him, his eyes skating down to where Eliott’s shirt hangs loose before rising to catch his eyes. He looks… proud. That’s the look reflected in the deep blue of his eyes. And all at once, Eliott feels… settled… calmer and more at peace than he has all evening.

Lucas wants him. Badly. Eliott wants him back. Just as desperately as he ever has.

All is right in their world.

* * * *

They’ve been at the party for a grand total of maybe ten minutes and Eliott is going to lose his goddamn mind. He’s convinced Lucas is being especially hot for the sole purpose of driving Eliott to the brink of total madness.

Lucas stands across the room in conversation with Alex. He’s rolled the sleeves of his shirt up and his tattoo stands out, bright and colourful in the twinkly lights hanging down the wall of the living room. Alex laughs at something Lucas has said, moving a hand to clasp the spot Eliott had admired on Lucas earlier – that space where Lucas’s neck and shoulder meet. Eliott twitches.

“Are you planning on listening at any point in this conversation or should I leave you to your staring contest with Lucas?”

Eliott looks quickly back to where not just Imane, but Mika stare at him with identical expressions of judgement. He adopts an appropriately apologetic expression. “Sorry, sorry. I was just –”

“Ignoring us in favour of staring at your boy,” Mika finishes for him. “We know.” He turns to look at Imane. “Don’t feel bad about it. This is my life at the hospital.”

“I can only imagine,” Imane laughs. “Supervising these two is a challenge I would not trade you for.”

“It’s not,” Eliott interrupts to disagree. “We’re totally professional when we’re at work.” It’s most certainly a lie, and all three of them know it.

“Mmhmm,” Mika hums with an eyebrow raised. “And last week when you both showed up to rounds, sweaty and out of breath? You expect me to believe you hadn’t just been fucking in an on-call room?” They hadn’t actually. On that particular occasional they had been rushed and nearly late because they’d spent the morning fucking at home.

Eliott smiles smugly. “We hadn’t been. Because: professional.” Mika rolls his eyes and Eliott turns his attention back to Imane. “Besides, it’s not a staring contest.”

“Oh no?” She questions, looking amused.

“No. He’d have to be looking back for it to be a staring contest.” Eliott eyes return to Lucas to see that he and Alex have been joined by Emma. She hangs off Alex looking like she’s been happily partaking in the plentiful alcoholic options the apartment has to offer.

“Well, if there’s one thing I know for absolute certain,” Imane says, her hand landing on Eliott’s shoulder as she too turns to look Lucas’s direction. “You’re not going to have to wait long for him to look back.”

* * * *

Eliott mingles among the guests, making pleasant conversation but the buzz beneath his skin doesn’t fade. It’s matched by the buzz of party guests as the clock approaches midnight.

Eliott admires Lucas in the room through his various conversations, but at one point, deep into a conversation with Imane and Sofiane, Eliott looses sight of him among the guests.

“I think the way the show blends philosophical theory with real world problems and does it in this way that’s just really, really funny is what captured my attention most,” Imane is saying. Eliott nods as he listens, subtly scanning the faces behind her for any sign of his disappearing boyfriend.

“And yet it took me forever to convince you to watch,” Sofiane says with a laugh.

“I don’t like sitcoms,” she defends with a smile. “How was I supposed to know it was brilliant?”

“Because I told you?” Sofiane asks incredulously. Eliott laughs along with Imane as his attention returns to the couple. “Admit it,” Sofiane prompts, “you only agreed to watch when Lucas told you to.”

“What can I say?” Imane says, her tone teasing. “I value his taste.”

“Careful in insulting my taste,” Sofiane challenges, pulling Imane closer with an arm wrapped around her waist. “That includes you.”

“Oh, where I’m concerned, your taste is impeccable,” she responds with a grin. “In television, I defer to Lucas.”

Eliott laughs a little. “You really shouldn’t. Lucas’s taste in TV is a strange and confusing thing.” Both Imane and Sofiane laugh as Eliott adds, “And he only watched The Good Place because of me.” Maybe he’s a little proud of that fact.

“Have you gotten to that part when –” Sofiane is immediately cut off by Imane smacking a hand against his chest. And while Sofiane’s sentence didn’t give away a thing, she seems to know where his sentence was headed anyways.

“No! You’ll spoil them like you did me! They’ve only just started the third season.”

Eliott frowns. “We’re just at the end of the second season actually. Besides I’ve seen the whole show. It’s only Lucas you could spoil.”

Imane looks to him with furrowed eyebrows. “Lucas said he’s already watched a couple episodes from season three.”

Eliott gasps, almost choking on his outraged breath. “He what?!”

Imane looks faintly apologetic while Sofiane only looks confused. “What am I missing?” He asks.

“Lucas watched without me,” Eliott answers. “I cannot believe…”

“Didn’t you just say you’ve already seen it?” Imane asks, looking like she’s one breath from a full-body laugh.

“That’s not the point!” Eliott argues. “That little brat knows it too. Oh, I’m going to…” He can’t finish his sentence. The unspeakable things he wants to do to Lucas in punishment not at all appropriate for the ears of his friends. He quickly scans the room once more and this time there are eyes looking back. Lucas. And he’s finally looking back.

He stands just at the edge of the room, leaning against the corner of the wall. He’s with no one else and he’s staring at Eliott with intent. He raises an eyebrow, biting his lower lip and turns, moving into the shadows of the hallway. Eliott just barely remembers to turn back to Imane and Sofiane, offering a pithy excuse they no doubt see right through, both of their faces reflecting barely restrained laughter.

Eliott hurries across the room, thankful that his desperate chase of Lucas is somewhat masked by how crowded the space is, filled with friends, hospital staff, and any number of faces Eliott has never seen before in his life. When he reaches the hall, he finds Lucas standing next to what had once been Eliott’s bedroom door. Eliott approaches cautiously, hyper aware of the other people crowding the hallway as they wait for access to the one bathroom.

“Took you long enough,” Lucas says and reaches for the door handle.

Eliott grabs his hand before he opens it. “Lucas,” he warns, “it’s not my room anymore.” He doesn’t know why he bothers to object. He’d follow Lucas anywhere.

Lucas smirks. “That gonna stop you?”

Eliott stares at him, eyes dropping to the smug curl of Lucas’s lips. “Fuck no.” He reaches for the doorknob himself, twisting it and pushing Lucas into the space as someone in line behind them says something about the room being off limits. Eliott ignores them, following Lucas in and locking the door behind them. He reaches for the light switch, flicking it on to illuminate the space in a dim glow.

Lucille and Alex made good on their desire to turn the room into a home gym of sorts. The equipment is lacking but it’s been clearly split between Lucille’s space, filled with a yoga mat, a number of foam blocks, exercise bands and weights, and Alex’s space, which consists of a weight bench and a selection of heavier weights.

Eliott couldn’t care less. The only thing that matters is Lucas, standing at the center of the space, his chest rising and falling with his unsteady breaths, beautiful, and looking at Eliott like this is all he’s wanted too – the both of them – only them – together. Finally.

Eliott would swear the force of their impact as they reach for one another shakes the room. He wraps Lucas in his arms as they kiss, squeezing him tightly as he presses his tongue into Lucas’s mouth, matching the frenzy of his hands moving across Lucas’s body with that of his tongue. He slides a hand down until it reaches Lucas’s ass, squeezing one round cheek before drifting further, sliding down the seam of his pants until he can press fingers against the spot he knows the plug is buried deep inside Lucas’s body.

Lucas rips his mouth away with an animalistic sound when Eliott does so, throwing his head back as he grinds his body forward and into Eliott.

“God,” Eliott groans as he watches him. “You drive me crazy.”

“Eliott, Eliott,” Lucas gasps, pushing Eliott’s hands away from him until he’s able to reach for his own clothing. “Now, now,” he chants nonsensically. “Off. Get them off.” What he means is clear enough in the way he’s ridding himself of his own clothes, almost ripping the buttons of his shirt as frantically goes about removing it.

Eliott doesn’t needs to be directed further, quickly stripping himself of every item of clothing and watching as Lucas wobbles unsteadily as he kicks off his pants. Lucas’s erection stands proud, jutting hard and red from his body. It makes Eliott feel a bit better about the state of his own dick, throbbing so badly he knows they’re in no danger of being in the room long enough to be discovered. He feels ready to burst at the simple feel of Lucas’s eyes on him.

“On the bench.”

Lucas’s eyebrows rise in question before he looks beside him to where Alex’s weight bench rests. There’s a slight slant to Lucas’s smile as he glances back to Eliott. “You think you can tell me what to do?”

Oh god. If Lucas really thinks tonight is the night to continue being a sassy, teasing, little shit, he’s got another thing coming.

“Yes.” Eliott’s voice has dropped a couple octaves without conscious intent and he sees Lucas shiver at the sound. “Now. On your back.”

Lucas swallows heavily but does as told, sitting down on the bench first and releasing a surprised gasp. He’d done that at the dinner table too when they’d arrived back after using the bathroom. He’d gasped, just a little, as he’d sat down, squirming slightly until he’d apparently found a position – an angle – that had satisfied him, and he’d rejoined conversation. No one had noticed but Eliott, and the knowledge had filled his body with a growing heat that had settled into a smolder in his balls. That they had made it through the rest of the dinner without Eliott mounting him in the middle of the restaurant, directly on the table, had felt like an accomplishment in itself.  

Lucas rolls down onto his back, blinking up at Eliott with wide and expectant eyes. Eliott approaches slowly, eyes tracking down Lucas’s body until he reaches his feet, pressed to the bench.

“Bend your knees. Back to your chest.”

He sees the way Lucas inhales – the way he pauses before obeying, no doubt torn between his constant need to challenge Eliott, and his more overwhelming desire to listen… to let Eliott give him what he wants. His eyes war until in the end, he does as told, bending his knees back to his chest and revealing the end of the plug tucked up inside him. Eliott inhales sharply at the sight, pressing a hand against the back of Lucas’s thigh to spread him further. Eliott rests a knee against the bench and moves a hand to the plug, pressing his thumb down onto the circular end. It’s blue – sparkly and blue.

“Eliott. Fuck.”

Eliott looks up to see Lucas’s eyes squeezed shut. He’s raised his arms above his head and holds tight to the other end of the bench.

“Feel good?” Eliott asks, pressing against the plug once more.

“God,” Lucas groans, hazy eyes blinking open to stare down at Eliott. “Yes.” He sucks in a breath before speaking once more, his voice demanding. “Now get it out of me and fuck me already.” It’s the sort of demand Eliott is happy to obey.  

Eliott grips the edges of the plug and tugs gently, watching the way the flared end stretches Lucas’s hole. His muscles clench as though attempting to hold onto the silicone shape as it leaves his body, tightening again when he’s left empty. Eliott moves a thumb to his rim, slick with the remnants of lube.

“Eliott.” Lucas’s leg lashes out, catching Eliott in the shoulder.

Eliott stumbles back slightly on his heels, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as he looks up at Lucas. “Impatient?”

“This is supposed to be a quicky,” Lucas pants, doing his best to look annoyed though the sweaty flush to his face robs him of the composure he seeks. “Put it in me.”

“It?” Eliott grins, holding up the butt plug, shiny and gleaming in the bedroom light. “This? Or me?”

The colour in Lucas’s cheeks deepens to an even more impressive red, just as Eliott expected it to. “God. Just… you. Put that down. Get inside me.” Lucas bends his knees back towards his chest, spreading his legs while he does so and Eliott feels a measure of his self control slip. He swallows.

“Yeah. Yeah, I – lube?”

Lucas shakes his head. “I’m fine. I lubed up before. Just fuck me already.”

And Eliott would like to – and he plans to but… this is the first time they’ve done it like this and he’s not taking any chances. “Lucas. Tell me you brought lube.”

Lucas huffs, looking irritated but resigned. “Fine,” he groans. “Pants pocket.”

Eliott grins and rushes to find it, pulling out the small tube but pausing before slicking himself up. He looks back to Lucas in question. “Bare?”

Lucas nods. “Yeah. C’mon. Hurry.”

“But…” Eliott moves towards him, unsure. “It’ll be messy after. Not like we’re at home.”

Lucas shakes his head, looking suddenly just a little shy. “No, it won’t.” He directs his eyes to where Eliott had placed the plug, propped beside their clothing. The meaning behind his words sinks into Eliott’s slowly, and with heady awareness he looks back to his boyfriend spread before him on the bench. “Yeah,” Lucas whispers as though Eliott had spoken a question out loud. “Yeah. Now.”

Eliott’s hands shake as he coats his erection with lube. He wipes the remnants on his own thighs as he reaches for Lucas, sliding him until his ass reaches the end of the bench. Lucas allows the manhandling, holding the back of his own thighs to spread himself further.

“Baby,” Eliott whispers overwhelmed as he takes hold of his erection and leans down with his other hand steadying himself above Lucas’s head on the bench.

“Yeah,” Lucas groans as the blunt head of Eliott’s cock presses into him. “Fuck. Yeah.”

Eliott removes his hand from his erection as he sinks deeper, clasping it to the side of Lucas’s ribcage instead as he breathes through the incredible feeling of sinking into the tight heat of Lucas’s body. He’ll never get used to this feeling – the physical sensation of being inside Lucas without a barrier matched with the extraordinary knowledge of what it means to get to do so, the incredible trust Lucas shows in allowing him this privilege.

Lucas’s hands move to Eliott’s chest, scratching lightly as he moans. “Move. Fucking move.”

Eliott chuckles lightly. “I will. But baby?” He struggles to speak, his voice strained and words clipped.

“What?” Lucas gasps, squirming beneath him as though he could force Eliott deeper. “Fucking – what?!”

“Need you to co – come for me ok?”

Lucas releases a breath like a laugh. “Yeah. Was planning to.”

“No.” Eliott waits until Lucas’s eyes focus on him. “Fast. Need you to come fast because I’m gonna –”

Lucas nods, jerky and a little frantic now. “Yeah, I – I will. Please, Eli. Please.”

Eliott inhales a deep breath, searching for control as he pulls his cock from Lucas’s body. It shouldn’t be this good already – when they’ve barely even begun. Somehow, it always is. Somehow, every time Eliott is inside Lucas it feels as overwhelming – as fucking good – as it did the first time. He slams back in. They both grunt with the impact and Lucas throws his head back, his nails biting into Eliott’s shoulders.

Eliott doesn’t bother with a building rhythm, making it hard and fast from the very first stroke. It’s what they both need and there’s sense in pretending otherwise. Eliott presses his body down against Lucas and barely pulls out, pounding up into him with a force that would have Lucas’s body pushed up and off the bench if not for the way Eliott’s weight holds him down.

Lucas can barely squeeze a hand between them, but he manages, reaching to wrap it around the head of his own erection as he shudders with each thrust of Eliott’s cock inside him. When his eyes open and fix on Eliott, there’s a need in them Eliott knows just how to meet. He leans down, pressing lips against Lucas’s ear as he continues his relentless pace driving into Lucas’s body. His own orgasm is licking at his balls, just on the precipice of exploding, but he holds it back, determined to give Lucas this first. His voice.

“That’s it, baby,” Eliott encourages. “My boy. Beautiful boy. Come for me. Lu.” He presses a kiss to Lucas’s temple as he feels his control begin to slip. “Love you. Fuck. Love you.” Lucas makes a low sound, and his body seizes with his orgasm, coming apart as he shakes in Eliott’s arms.

Eliott’s body reads it as a signal, and he groans loudly, falling down onto Lucas as his orgasm washes through him. He drives his cock up into Lucas’s body in a series of rapid bursts as he rides out the wave, gasping for air as the pleasure releases its strangle hold on his lungs.

He lays against Lucas, face tilted down against Lucas’s chest as he feels the rise and fall of the chest beneath him. When he finds the strength to press himself up it’s the sight of Lucas, sweaty and red, and looking so incredibly well fucked and content, one would think they’d been at it all night versus the… well, Eliott doesn’t want to admit exactly how pathetic both of their stamina was in this case. Though there is a certain level of pride that comes with knowing Lucas was just as hopeless.  

Lucas licks his lips as he stares up at Eliott. “You should put it back in.” His voice is low and husky with satisfaction. Eliott looks at him in confusion, glancing down to where he hasn’t yet parted their bodies and his cock remains, buried inside Lucas’s body. “The plug,” Lucas says, reading Eliott’s confusion. “You should put it back in.”

Eliott’s eyes snap shut and he groans as his cock jerks inside Lucas, making one last valiant effort to fill Lucas even further with evidence of him. “Oh god.”

Lucas squirms beneath him. “Eliott. Do it.”

Eliott nods. “Ok.” He inhales sharply as he pulls his spent cock from Lucas’s body. He reaches for the plug, pressing the tip against the dribble of come that’s already begun leaking from Lucas’s body, moving it until the tip becomes shiny with come. He stares mesmerized by the sight.

“Eliott. Fuck!” Lucas reaches to grab the plug from his hands and shoves it into his body without ceremony, inhaling around a gasp as he does so.

Eliott’s lower lip juts out in a pout. “I would have done it.”

Lucas snorts as he sits up on the bench. “Sure.” He grimaces as he stands, squirming slightly as he gets used to the feeling of it back inside him.

“Is it ok?” Eliott asks. “If it’s uncomfortable – if it hurts – we can take it out.”

“No,” Lucas answers immediately with a shake of his head as he goes about collecting his clothes. He reaches for a roll of paper towels at the side of the room, quickly cleaning the evidence of his own orgasm from his stomach, before he tosses the roll to Eliott. “Just feels a little strange.” He begins to put on his underwear and pants and Eliott moves to do the same, after a cursory cleaning of the bench and himself.

“It feels… wetter.”

Eliott freezes in the midst of buttoning back up his shirt. He looks back at Lucas to see he’s struggling to do the same. And it’s just… the reality of what they’ve done slams into Eliott a little like a second orgasm, the wave of euphoria so instant, he’s a bit lightheaded with it. “I came inside you.”

Lucas glances up, having just finished buttoning his shirt. “Yeah?”

Eliott swallows heavily, removing his hands from the buttons of his own shirt when Lucas steps forward to finish the job. “It’s – it’s like I still am. Inside you.”

Lucas doesn’t look up, studiously fastening the last of the buttons of Eliott’s shirt but he nods. “Feels that way too. It’s like – I can feel you.”

“Lucas,” Eliott breathes and reaching for Lucas’s face, tilting it up until he can press their lips together. They both sink into a soft kiss, enjoying the taste of one another’s mouths without the frenzy of their former need driving every movement. Lucas pushes him back after a moment with a soft smile.

“Come on. Probably near midnight by now.”

If Eliott’s honest, he’d forgotten about the celebration of the New Year entirely. He’s almost a little sad they didn’t time it so he was inside Lucas as the clock struck twelve – just as Lucas had originally suggested.

They attract a few curious glances as they leave the room, and at least a few giggles, but thankfully the hallway is filled with no one Eliott immediately recognizes.

“Where you two been?” Arthur asks as they re-enter the living room. Despite the question, his expression suggests he already knows. “You almost missed it,” he continues, voice raised to be heard over the din of rising noise in the room. “Minute to go!” He adds. Eliott smiles. He supposes, in the end, he and Lucas did time that quite well.

Lucas is suddenly tugging at his hand, pulling him towards the front door of the apartment.

“Lucas?” Eliott questions but follows. “What are you doing?”

Lucas looks back at him with a wide grin, his eyes lit up with a familiar blend of excitement and mischief. “Let’s go!”

Eliott doesn’t question him, rushing to find their jackets as they hurry from the apartment. Lucas breaks out into a run the moment they reach the hallway.

“Lucas!” Eliott calls out laughing, immediately giving chase. “What are you doing?!”

“There’s no time!” Lucas yells, bolting down the stairway and not stopping until they both burst into the cold night air.

It’s begun raining Eliott realizes with surprise. It’s a light drizzle but cold. It’s the sort of rain that hints at snow, though they’re unlikely to get it, and he suddenly desperately wants to see Lucas in the snow. Eliott can perfectly picture the snowflakes catching on his eyelashes.

“We should go north.”

Lucas spins around in the rain, his smile as bright as the moonlight casting a glow around them. “What?”

“Next Christmas. We should go north. I want snow.”

“Ok,” Lucas agrees with a laugh.

The distant sound of people chanting the countdown sounds from the building. Their friends or someone else celebrating, Eliott doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter. He reaches for Lucas just as Lucas does the same, and they pull one another close.

Eight! Seven!

A raindrop drips down Lucas’s face. The rain is growing heavier. 

“We should get out of the rain,” Eliott suggests. “It’s cold.”

Five! Four!

“No,” Lucas disagrees, tilting his head back to catch more drops on his face. “I love it.”

The sound of the countdown drifts into background noise, irrelevant and unimportant when faced with the beauty of the boy in his arms.

“I knew I loved you then.”

Lucas looks back to him. “What?”

“That day in the rain,” Eliott continues. “When we drove back from my parents place. I knew I loved you then.”

Lucas’s mouth parts with his surprise, before a smile begins pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I loved you then too.”

Eliott stares at him in wonder. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Lucas admits with a slight laugh. “Was pretty annoyed about how goddamn much I did but, yeah – I loved you then.”

A wide smile stretches across Eliott’s face. “I love you now too.”

Lucas smiles, sweet and pleased. “Good. Now kiss me. You missed the countdown, you dork.”

The noise of New Year’s revelers suddenly filters back into Eliott’s consciousness, cheers and laughter mixed with the pop of fireworks being set off in all corners. He smiles.

“Maybe,” he admits. “We’ve always been better at making our own rules.”

Lucas makes a sound of amusement, looking charmed. “Gonna make our own countdown then?”

“Five, four –”

Lucas cuts him off, pressing their lips together in a hard, lingering kiss before he pulls back.

“So fucking cheesy I don’t know what I see in you.”  

Eliott laughs into the next kiss, smiling too hard - far too fucking happy - to do more than press their lips together in an uncoordinated attempt at sharing his bliss with Lucas.  

Lucas’s eyes are shining when Eliott separates them to look at him once more.

“Why’d you pull me out here?”

Lucas’s eyes move to a drop of rain trailing down Eliott’s cheek and he cups his hand there, his thumb brushing across the skin to capture the moisture. When his eyes look back to Eliott’s they’re filled with such warmth, it spreads through Eliott like a living flame, fierce and powerful, but comforting too. And he feels safe. Safe and so very loved.

“I only ever want to be with you.”

* * * * 

END NOTES: I’ll add this and the Xmas snippet to ao3 shortly. Hope you liked it!!! Smooches to you all and here’s to saying good fucking riddance to 2020!!! 

[heyheydidjaknow]

Okay, so the official update deadline for me is now every Sunday before I sleep. This is the second part. If the formatting is off, I apologize. Also, if you want to read the first bit, the link’s at the bottom. And the third one. I know there’s a way to make it so that touching on underlined text or something links you to the link, but I dunno how to do that.

Chapter 2

Surprisingly enough, the easiest one to convince of your legitimacy is Hamato Yoshi.

As soon as you walk into the lair, all you have to say to Ratman is that his daughter “was” named Miwa (obviously, dropping a bombshell like, “Your daughter is alive,” is somewhat bad form) and that he was going to give her a fan/knife thing, and he is convinced. Maybe it is to do with his natural compassion and/or naivety, but it allows you the option to sleep on the couch and not have to wander around to find exactly where the hell that address is.

You pull your knees to your chest as you stare blankly at the dead television screen, mind wandering as you listen to the accumulative sounds of the others. You are used to being awake at ungodly hours, of course, but typically they are spent alone; this is an uncommon occurrence. Now, anyways, you wish you had a way of contacting people. You already feel homesickness writhe around in your stomach, and your dread for what is going to happen next is outmatched by your gnawing curiosity regarding the fate of your family in the fire. Of course, you know their chances for survival was close to none, but—

“Y/N?”

You almost jump out of your skin, having not noticed the sinking of the couch next to you. You look over at the speaker, relaxing slightly. You put your hand on your chest. “Sorry,” you breath to Donatello as you try to calm your beating heart. “I uh, kinda zoned out.”

“It’s alright.” His posture is awfully stiff. “I just figured—ya know, since we’re going to be interacting more—we should uh, get to know each other a bit.”

You nod as you stretch your legs back out. “Sounds like a plan.” You turn your body to face him, shaking a little from the start but getting over it relatively quickly. “Oh, by the by, you’re the one that can kill me with your bare hands. You can and should relax.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Was it that obvious?”

“A little,” you shrug. “But, in your defense,” you smile playfully, “if some random bitch walked up to me and started telling me every detail of my past, I’d be hesitant to get too friendly too.”

“Oh, it’s not that!” He put his hands up, talking oddly quickly. “It’s just that you’re the first human I’ve ever met, and really the only person I’ve ever really talked to that isn’t one of my brothers or Splinter—”

A memory slaps you across the face. “Oh! Right!” You grab his hands, making sure his full attention was on you. “I gotta tell you something really important.”

He went red. “W-what?”

“I don’t think it’s wise to tell you outright exactly what’s going to happen,” you start, impulsively running your thumb over one of his knuckles, “but if you run into a triceratops man, or if you hear about a triceratops man, you have to kill him immediately.”

“I- huh?”

“Three or so episodes before the season three finale,” you repeat, “you or someone else is going to run into a triceratops man, who you have to kill. If you let him live, the world as you know it will be destroyed and sucked into a black hole.”

“Black hole?” He blinks. “So, in a few months, we—what?”

“Well, they call it a black hole, anyways.” You roll your eyes. “It’s pretty weak sauce for a black hole. I’d hasten to call it more than a portal, but, I guess, technically, it’s a black hole.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about this sort of thing.” He smiles awkwardly. “You know, for someone who just kinda popped out of the blue.”

“Well, yeah.” You smile back. “People like you inspire me to learn more about how the world around me works.”

His pupils dilate, and he breaks eye contact. “Wait, but you said that we had at least until the season five finale, right?” You feel his thumb wrap around yours slightly. “If that’s the case, how can a black hole destroy our world? We’d die with it, wouldn’t we?”

“See, you would think that.” You shrug, letting his hands fall between you two. “But the show is already playing fast and loose with science in general, so.”

“I am legitimately so confused right now.”

You sigh, patting him on the shoulder. “Me too, buddy.”

“I just—“

“Honey.” You stifle a giggle. “No combination of words will make any of this make any more sense than it already does.”

“I know, but—“

“Listen, if you ask me any more questions, we’ll start having to deal with more time travel bullshit then we’ll already have to.”

He sighs. “Okay, I’m dropping it.”

You nod, already feeling the sting of guilt. “But, hey,” you nudge with your shoulder teasingly, “if it makes you feel any better, you definitely got the most sugar than your brothers.”

He blinks. “What does that have anything to do with that?”

“Compensation? I dunno.” You pull your legs under you. “Just trying to make up for the fact that it’s really not a good idea for me to give out too much info about an uncertain future.”

There is an awkward pause.

“So,” Donatello asks gently, “if you don’t mind me asking, you said you died, right?”

You nod.

“So, uh, how did you…?”

“House fire.”

He blinks. “You… you remember—?”

“Yup.” You chuckle tightly. “Every excruciating detail.”

He tenses slightly. “I’m sorry.”

You sigh. “Don’t be. Not your fault.” ‘My fault, actually.’

He rests his head on his hand. After a pause, “Do you know, then?”

“Know what?”

“You know, what happens after.”

You shake your head. “I blacked out and now I’m here. I’m guessing you don’t run into a ton of people like me.”

He cracks a smile. “I don’t really run into a ton of people period.”

You try to help lighten this stifling mod you have created. “Well, I’m glad your first introduction to humanity proper is through some psycho pseudo-Cassandra.”

“Less Cassandra and more just general prophet.” He grins. “If Raph believes you enough to go off the handle—well, I guess that’s just Raph in general.”

You chuckle. “Hey,” you whine teasingly, “lay off your brother. Obviously he’s a very levelheaded man.”

“Totally.” He rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Cool as a cucumber, that guy.”

“Speaking of, where is everyone?” You look around the noticeably empty living room.

“Sleeping, probably. I tend to stay up later than they do.”

“And why’s that, Bill Nye?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier to work when people aren’t asking for help with things.”

“That is very fair.” You close your eyes as you lean against the back of the couch. “I must say, I’m not envious of your position.”

You hear him shift closer. “Why’s that?”

“If you don’t already, you’re probably—at least, from what I’ve seen,” you clarify. “Well, it seems like, sometimes, you have the world on your shoulders. It can’t be a good feeling.”

A pause. “I guess you could say that, yeah.”

You stretch upwards. “But” you continue, moaning softly as you feel your muscles crack, “if it makes you feel any better, I have—or at least had— access to the internet. I will gladly explain google.”

He clears his throat. “The internet search engine or the number?”

You grin. “Either or, although I would most certainly lose track if my zeros halfway through at best.”

He laughs. “It took me so long to figure out how to say it,” he sighs, “The trick is to just say zero for a long time and eventually just kinda zone out. You can really just stop after fifty and people won’t notice.”

“See,” you open your eyes, wrapping an arm around his shoulder—he certainly stiffened up quick— “that is why I like you, Donnie. You always know the score.”

He relaxes quickly. His speech is slurred a little. “You like me?”

“Hell yeah I do!” Your voice is noticeably lighter than it was before, more relaxed. “You are totally awesome, if you’ll pardon my candor.”

“N-not at all!” He smiled bashfully. “I’m flattered, really. I just—I’m surprised is all. I didn’t think you’d—uh—_like_ someone like me.”

“What? Why?” You are, apparently, extremely dense. “You’re the coolest guy ever!”

“Well, I’m not really a guy.”

“Wait, is this the whole turtle thing again?” You roll your eyes, leaning into him as you close them. “Dude, legitimately? I don’t care.”

His voice softened. “You what?”

“I don’t care. You’re smart, reliable, funny… I mean, what isn’t there to appreciate?” ‘I didn’t expect him to feel warm.’ “If I’m being honest,” you shrug in an attempt to stay casual, “and, if you promise not to give me shit—”

“I won’t,” he promises, almost eagerly.

You smile. “I will admit that I had a thing for you, along with many other people where I’m from. Fictional crush, you know.”

“You’re joking,” he challenges.

“Scout’s honor.” You raise your right hand, already starting to zone out. ‘Really warm…’

“You’re serious?”

You hum in confirmation. “I don’t…” You yawn, the weight of the incredible stress admittedly starting to take its toll. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable after what I just said,” you mumble, curling into him, admittedly not in your right mind, “but do you mind staying here until I fall asleep? Sup… surprisingly enough, you are ridiculously warm and comfortable and warm.”

He tenses up a little, but slowly wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Yeah. I’ve got nothing better to do.” His voice is gentle, soft.

“I owe you cupcakes.” You nod off.

--

You could tell you boosted his confidence if only a little bit. He stood taller the next night; admittedly, you feel a sense of pride at his pride. At least, it makes up for the verbal abuse from his brothers when they find you asleep together.

As you walk down the street that next night with Donnie shadowing you, you consider the pros and cons of revealing more about what you know; although there were certainly more items for pro, the chaos theory was sort of a big deal, and, knowing the reputation of this franchise and its post-apocalyptic bullshit, the last thing you need is to tempt fate. Still, something about this felt wrong, like not telling someone to get out of the way of a moving car. ‘Wish I were Cassandra,’ you think bitterly. ‘At least I wouldn’t feel bad.’

You stop in front of the offending building. ‘Finally.’ You look around for your chaperone and, after not seeing him— ‘Fucking ninjas, man.’—sigh and give in. “Good night,” you said to the open air.

You look back at the door, startled to see someone looking back at you. ‘You are fucking with me right now.’ You wave awkwardly as the man holds the door open for you. You step inside the building, making a beeline for the elevator. ‘A doorman? Really?’ The lobby was entirely too hotelish for your liking, the warm lighting bouncing off the smooth tile cleanly. ‘How much is this place, anyways? It’s fucking New York.’ You press one of the buttons. ‘If I’m the one paying rent, I am royally fucked.’

Somehow, via some sort of divine intervention, you find the apartment. You take the key out of your pocket— ‘Note to self: scavenge up enough money for a keychain.’—and stepped inside.

The apartment made you do a double take. It is so… familiar. Nicer than usual, more polished, yet somehow exactly how you’ would have used the space. The floors are hardwood, the walls painted a relatively neutral color that is easy on the eyes. As soon as you enter, you see the kitchen to your left; small, but considering it is only you, it would be perfect. To your left, down a short hall, is a bathroom—bright white surfaces with black countertops. And in the only other room in the apartment, in front of you, is a bed, a couch, some chairs, a table, a chest of drawers, a closet, a television, and a coffee table with a phone and an envelope on it.

You walk over to a large window overlooking the street, shutting it and sitting down on the couch. You pick up the letter first, carefully breaking its seal and pulling out a note and a card. Your heart leaps as you see your name in white lettering. ‘Well, having a credit card doesn’t sound too bad.’ You place it back onto the table as you start reading.

“Dear Y/N L/N:

We understand that the transition between your previous life and this one may be difficult, and we at The TIS are more than happy to provide for you and your needs during this transition period. Your questions are likely numerous. That is the purpose of this document, to address any concerns you may have.

Finances/Personal Belongings: The most noted concern of those just beginning in our program is to do with housing. We understand that it is incredibly important to the mental health of our members to have relatively stable housing, especially considering the strange, new environment they have been thrown into. Your residence is paid for by the TIS. All necessary emergency services (repair costs of any sort, medical bills, phone bills, etc.) and any utilities that may be included in said residence are also covered by this plan. In addition, your TIS assigned debit card will receive a daily balance of $300 (balance will change with inflation), which can be used at your discretion. Your residence has been pre-furnished to what our experts believe to be your taste, and your refrigerator and cupboards are filled with a variety of raw food items. Silverware, crockery and cookware has also been included. You have also been provided with various detergents and whatever hygiene products you used before your transition. These things will be replenished biweekly unless, for whatever reason, you start using different food/hygiene products. In this event, your inventory will be adjusted accordingly.

You are currently in position of one (1) weeks’ worth of clothing, including any undergarments applicable, which includes 7 pairs of pants and 7 shirts taken from your wardrobe, along with any clothing you are currently wearing.

Cell Phone: Your TIS assigned cell phone is, practically speaking, identical to your previous device. Any streaming services you were previously subscribed to, along with any you may decide to subscribe to, are covered by the TIS. Your login information is included with your banking/personal information, all of which is included in this envelope. If you wish to upgrade your phone as the years go by, or if you wish to purchase a second device, these log ins will still be available to you, although you will be required to purchase any additional software/electronics through our website: www.TISShop.org/FU. A charging cord and block are located by your bed. We recommend purchasing a case for your device.

Please note that all websites/services/apps previously available to you are also available via TIS approved electronic devices.

Employment: Employment has not been taken the TIS. We do not offer employment, although minors have been provided with a permit in the event that you chose to enter the workforce. If you choose to enter the workforce, aid will continue to be provided.

Enrollment: All minors are required by the TIS to enroll in their local school. Any documents required are provided in this envelope. If you are currently attending a college/university, or are thinking of enrolling/reenrolling, any credits you have accumulated will be transferred to whatever college/university you choose to attend. If you are currently a minor considering attending college, your funds will be provided by the TIS if applicable.

Identification: Any websites/services/products that are age restricted will be available to you, regardless of age.

Death: We at the TIS assure you that unnatural death, in your current situation, is not a matter that you need concern yourself with. While it is certainly possible to die, it is extremely unlikely, and we have the policy in place in the event of your death.

We at the TIS are aware of your awareness of the place you are now in. We wish to stress the importance consuming any media associated with the world in which you find yourself. If you gain nothing from this letter, please remember that we at the TIS are here for you, if only indirectly.

We wish you luck.”

The letter ends there. You check the envelope to see the other documents listed.

You stand up, picking up your new phone and laying down on the bed. You are left reeling from the little information you have been given. ‘So I was brought here. Well,’ you sigh, closing your eyes, ‘I guess I already knew that, but…’

You start scrolling through your device. Everything is still there, except for your contacts. You try to call what numbers you had memorized; they are apparently invalid.

You curl into a fetal position, clutching onto your jacket. “Well,” you mumble to yourself almost bitterly, “at least I know I won’t starve to death.” You decide against even turning the lights off as you hug yourself tightly. “This,” you decide, “is going to majorly suck.”

You nod off, already dreaming of smoke.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

[babygirlgalitzine]

to the future (ao3)

to all the anons who asked me for a nye fic and gave me prompts for it too - i hope you all enjoy this little fic with everything put into it x

one

It’s boiling hot in the club, far too hot, and clammy too. It seems as though everyone and their mother has had the exact same plan to see in the New Year, but right now, Ben’s regretting ever even thinking about it.

He’s in a foul mood, and has been all night, ever since his first steps into the club. Originally, the plan was for him and Jay to go out together, drink as much as physically possible, do the countdown together and then wake up the next day with the worst hangover in existence. But right now he’s just drinking to get through the night, because Lola’s there too. Lola, who has been seeing Jay for the best part of the last few months. Her and Ben get on like a house on fire usually, but Ben’s jealous that she now has all of Jay’s attention. Instead of having the best night out, he’s spending it playing gooseberry - and not even that, even worse than that - he’s being set up with Lola’s friend from home. Callum. 

He’s attractive, Ben will allow that. Attractive and tall and he’s got the most beautiful smile Ben reckons he’s ever seen. He smells good and his arms are utterly perfect and he fills out his white shirt as if it’s nobody's business. But still, Ben hates being set up like this. 

Callum stands next to him, and they watch as Lola and Jay dance. If it was anyone else, Ben would be cringing, but he somehow just accepts it, though his face shows he’s still in a mood. The music changes and more and more people rush to dance, even though there’s barely any room to breathe anymore. Ben can feel Callum’s breath hitting his cheeks, and he turns to face him, noticing that Callum’s crouching down a little bit, though it’s not berating. “Do you fancy another drink?” Callum asks, nodding in the direction of Ben’s hands, pointing out the now empty cup. 

Ben smiles softly, trying to hide it but he’s ultimately unable to do so. “Go on then.” Ben says. “I’ll come with you, leave the lovebirds in peace.”

Callum lets out a low chuckle and Ben wishes all the music would cease to exist, because he just wants to hear that properly now. 

So they get drinks together. And they talk, or rather shout over the music. It’s nice. Ben watches as Callum’s neck moves as he finishes off his drink, swallowing it down, and there’s a feeling of complete and utter want that just rushes through Ben suddenly. He’s aware it’s edging closer and closer to midnight as they walk back to the main dance floor, right where they’ve left Jay and Lola. Callum has his arms around Ben, guiding him there, because apparently he can see better with the extra few inches he has on Ben. They eventually make their way back, and Jay gives Ben a knowing look as Lola reaches up and pinches Callum’s cheek, laughing as he squirms away from her touch. 

The countdown starts, the DJ pausing the music temporarily, though the sound is even louder now with everyone counting down to the turn of the year. 

10

Everyone around them starts to join in on the countdown, the shouts getting progressively louder. Ben side eyes Callum, and notices that Callum’s doing the exact same.

9

Smiles start to grow on their lips, both of them threatening to burst out in a fit of laughter, just because they caught one another looking in their direction.

8

Callum nudges Ben’s shoulder softly, a shy grin on his face now.

7

Ben nudges Callum’s shoulder too, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes with how wide he’s grinning now, his annoyance of the evening long forgotten. 

6

“Do you want to?” Callum asks, his lips close to Ben’s ears, all hot. 

5

Ben nods, and turns his face to respond. “May as well.” He says, trying not to sound too pleased about the whole situation, but Callum can see right through him with that smile. 

4

Callum’s hands fall to Ben’s waist, holding him there. Into the last few seconds now, and it shows in everyone around them.

3

Ben hooks his arms around Callum’s shoulders, both of them facing each other now. He can see the blush on Callum’s cheeks, and he’s fairly confident he’s red in the face too, however well disguised that may be by the flashing lights up above them.

2

Everyone around them prepares, screams and shouts everywhere. The tension is palpable. 

1

Here goes nothing. This is happening.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The entire club explodes, confetti raining down from the ceiling, loud music suddenly playing again and Ben’s standing on the tip of his toes to kiss Callum. It’s hot and passionate for two people who only just met for the first time mere hours ago, but that just makes it better. Callum’s hands are on Ben’s waist still, his thumbs circling against his skin, and his touch is sending shivers right the way down Ben’s spine. Ben grins into the kiss, trying to reach higher and higher, falling deeper into the kiss itself and Callum struggles to hold them both up with his legs that are for some reason turning to jelly.

Callum pulls back for a moment, their foreheads touching. “Well that was a great start to the year.” He chuckles breathlessly. “Best New Years kiss I’ve had.”

Ben grins and bites his lips shyly. “Really?” He asks, his hands on Callum’s face now, feeling the heat of his cheeks under his touch. “Reckon I might need another one, you know, just to be sure.” 

Callum hums and leans in to kiss Ben once again, accepting the invitation without even so much as a second thought.

two

“Can you believe it’s been a year?” Callum asks. 

Ben’s sitting next to him, or rather, half on top of him. Callum’s threading his fingers through Ben’s hair, and it’s comforting. Ben hums and falls further into Callum’s touch. “Craziest year of my life.” He says, and it’s true. He’s fallen completely head over heels in love with Callum, and he never thought his life would turn out this way. But a year later, here they are, celebrating the New Year for the second year in a row, happy, in love, and as far away from any sweaty club as possible.

Callum’s leg might be going numb with Ben half sitting on it, but he doesn’t care one bit. It’s exactly where he wants to be. Ben in his lap, beer in his hand, family and friends surrounding them as they wait for the New Year to be rung in live on television. It’s somewhat of a low-key affair this year, but he doesn’t mind so much, because they’ve experienced the clubbing New Years together once before. “Are you all really setting off fireworks?” He asks lowly, fingers on Ben’s back, warming him up.

Ben looks towards him with a soft smile on his face. “Yeah.” Ben says. “We do it every year.” He sees the nervousness in Callum’s eyes, and rests his hands against Callum’s cheeks, just as he had done a year previously and it relaxes Callum almost instantly. “Hey, it’ll be fine. If it’s too much for you, we’ll come back inside.”

Callum smiles softly, and turns his head to the side, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of Ben’s hand. “I don’t deserve you.” Callum whispers. “At all.”

“Course you do, don’t be stupid.” Ben whispers, fully aware that his family would be able to hear their conversation, even if there’s music blaring from the television and everyone’s chatting amongst themselves. “Come in the kitchen.” He says, and stands up, holding his hand out for Callum to grab. 

Ben’s family watches them, but they don’t say anything. They’ve welcomed Callum this year, and he spends most of his time around them now, it’s not unusual to see him and Ben cosying up to one another, nor holding hands. 

Callum watches as Ben shuts the kitchen door behind them, blocking out the sound from the living room where all the family and friends remain. Ben pulls him into a hug, letting Callum rest his head in the crook of Ben’s neck. His breathing slows down to a calm rhythm, inhaling and exhaling to the same beat of Ben’s hand running up and down his spine. 

“We can stay here if that’s what you want.” Ben says. “Nobody will care, they’ll understand.”

Callum sighs for a moment, and takes in the familiar scent of Ben. He kisses Ben’s neck softly and warmly and then pulls away. “I’m not ruining your New Year. I’ll be there. As long as I’ve got you, I’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure?” Ben asks, running his thumb along Callum’s bottom lip.

Nodding, Callum smiles. “I’m sure.” He confirms and he’s just about to lean in for a kiss, a proper kiss, until there’s a short knock at the door and Lola pokes her head around. 

“We’re heading out now, there’s five minutes to go.” She says.

“We’ll get our coats in a second.” Ben says, and waits for her to leave them be. “Are you definitely sure?”

“Yes Ben.” Callum rolls his eyes, but it’s more teasing than anything else. “I’m definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent sure.” 

Ben chuckles softly and unravels himself out of their embrace, opening the kitchen door to reveal everyone filing out into the hallway, shrugging on all their coats. Ben picks up his coat first and then Callum’s, handing it to him with a warm smile. 

It’s freezing outside, breath visible as it swirls around in the air. Ben links his fingers with Callum and they walk hand in hand with everyone else, heading over to where all the fireworks line up. 

This year, there’s no countdown, not a proper one anyway. This year, they just rely on everyone around them to realise when midnight eventually hits, and when it eventually does, the fireworks set off all around them, not just from the Mitchell’s, but other displays too. They all light up the night sky dazzlingly, a multitude of colours exploding everywhere. Ben stands on the tip of his toes yet again, just as he did the year previously. His hands are cold against Callum’s face, but neither of them seem to care at all. Their lips collide, and it’s a familiar feeling now, even though it still sends tingles down their spine. Callum jumps as a firework booms overhead, but Ben keeps holding onto him until he forgets it all and focuses entirely on Ben, and kissing him. Callum pulls back for just a moment, just one tiny second as he tries to catch his breath. His eyes are still shut, and Ben’s all encompassing, surrounding him. “I love you Ben.” He breathes out and he eventually opens his eyes, finally watching Ben, and watching as his eyes light up at Callum’s words. “More than anything.”

“I love you too.” Ben says, his words barely above a whisper. “So much.”

three

This year, it’s another more relaxing New Year. After such a chaotic year, it’s welcome. This year, they finally got their own home, a space they can call their own. It’s still very much a work in progress, even months after moving in, because Ben’s discovered a newfound love for interior design and has been trying to make their home as perfect as possible for them. The original plan was for them to host a New Years party, but with Ben deciding that the house isn’t quite ready, they’ve put it off for a year, and instead, they’re all back at the Mitchell’s house, this time with more people there, given that the family constantly seems to grow each year. 

Music is playing, a cheerful song from years past, one that everyone seems to remember and know, judging by the amount of people tapping their feet or humming along. Callum’s sitting on the sofa, waiting for Ben to reappear with their drinks, and when he does, Callum watches how Kathy pulls Ben in, making him dance with her. A few people join in with them, though it’s mainly just the younger children being all hyperactive from the sugar rush and the excitement of finally being allowed to stay up way past their bedtimes. Ben puts their drinks down for a second, when he finally escapes his mum’s dancing as she moves onto one of the younger children, and there’s a bright red blush on his face but his complete and utter happiness is captivating.

“Come on.” Ben says, holding his hand out for Callum to grab. 

Callum shakes his head, though he’s laughing too, mainly because the whole situation is ridiculous, but also because he’s happy. “Absolutely not.” He says, and he’s adamant that he won’t get up and dance. “You’ve had too much wine. It’s gone right to your head.” 

“I don’t care.” Ben grins. “I want to dance with you.” He holds both of his hands out now, and squeezes the air to tell Callum to take his hands. 

They stare each other down for a moment, both of them teasingly narrowing their eyes at one another until Callum finally concedes, rolling his eyes and he lifts his hands up for Ben to take, which he does gladly, linking their fingers together with a bright and beaming smile on his face. Ben finally gets Callum dancing, though it’s more standing in one position and moving ever so slightly whilst everyone runs about around them, but he doesn’t care one bit, he’s enjoying seeing in the New Year with his boyfriend. The music changes over, though it’s only on for a minute or two before the presenters on the television announce that the New Year is only a minute away. Everyone stands up, all huddled around the television, trying to sneak a glimpse of what’s going on in the city, someone quickly hands out party poppers, making sure everyone has one to pull when the clock strikes twelve and chimes. They’ve decided not to set off fireworks this year, because the weather isn’t good enough for it, so party poppers and glitter confetti will have to do.

The countdown begins, ten right down to one. There’s excitement in the air, anticipation for what’s to come. People steady their hands on the party poppers, streamers and confetti, but not Callum. He holds onto Ben, the most precious thing in the world to him. Ben turns his face and watches Callum, watches as the lights hit his face, watches as his eyes light up too, and all the little freckles that are just sitting on his skin, right under his eyes and across the bridge of his nose. There’s only a few seconds of the year remaining and yes, Ben might be drunk, but he doesn’t care one bit. If anything, the alcohol in his system spurs him on. 

There’s shouts of happy new year, and suddenly tissue paper explodes everywhere and falls cautiously to the floor. Ben turns Callum’s head and presses an electrifying kiss to his lips, all passion and warmth and heat and there’s sparks flying everywhere. It’s perfect, and just as electric as their first kiss together was. When they eventually pull apart, streamers and confetti are stuck in their hair, but they don’t focus on that. They focus on each other. Ben smiles shyly, and picks up Callum’s left hand and kisses his knuckles gently, looking into his eyes as he speaks assuredly. “This time next year.” He says. “There’ll already be a ring on that finger of yours.”