#for one paper they had a whole ass 10 mark question on ONE SLIDE out of a 187 slide lecture. on smth that has never come up before. like. ok

[milflewis]

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[planetesastraea]

On the tip of his tongue

Read Part 1: On the Tip of his Fingers

Geraskier, Modern AU - Explicit - 10 179 words - Warnings: none

Character study, developing relationship, banter, feelings, Geralt vs words, bisexual!Geralt, bottom!Geralt, top!Jaskier, first time, handjobs, blowjobs, anal sex. Also contains pizza (mentioned)

Betaed by the wonderful @oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co​​

Read on AO3

-

That morning Jaskier got woken up by a soft but firm hand on his shoulder and a husky voice saying his name.

“Hmmf?” was his very articulate reply, definitely worthy of the Creative Writing and Composition in Medieval Times professor he was. “Three words or less,” he would always say to motivate his students to answer questions during class and to start a conversation. Damn, they would have been proud.

“I gotta go,” the deep voice whispered and the previous evening suddenly came back to Jaskier. Geralt. Wow. Geralt . He sat up and blinked a few times before realising his eyes were open but the sun wasn’t up yet. Geralt was but a silhouette in the dark, his smell a mix of long-forgotten aftershave and well remembered sex.

“Mmokay,” Jaskier mumbled, rubbing one eye with his palm. “Thanks for telling me,” he said sleepily. There was a pause and he realised the sentence didn’t land well.

“Sorry. Didn’t want to sneak out,” Geralt replied tightly.

“Yeano, yeah- I meant it. Sorry. Me,” Jaskier said, pointing towards his own face in the dark, and thus proving the point to no one but himself, “not a morning person.”

Geralt snorted softly. Jaskier was overcome with a powerful wave of fondness and a guttural need to reach out and kiss him. Gods bless adorable bi himbos at law.

“I should get going,” Geralt said and Jaskier thought he heard some hesitation in his voice. The mattress dipped slightly as Geralt moved to stand up, and Jaskier reached out blindly. His hand found the inside of Geralt’s elbow and then slid down softly to the man’s wrist, finding his palm.

“Wait,” Jaskier said and Geralt waited. Then it dawned on him that he was supposed to say something . “Do you want to… see me again?” he offered, truly bringing his A-game as the (supposedly) most romantic man in the continent. (He was not boasting. It had simply been brought to his attention by many of his exes, and who was he to question the opinion of the people?) He tried not to sound too hopeful but it was too early in the morning and his acting skills needed a warm-up. After all, one couldn’t just naturally wake up that good.

The silence stretched in a way that made him uncomfortable, especially since Geralt was practically invisible in front of him. Geralt’s fingers brushed his and something in his chest relaxed, but only for a moment.

“I can’t,” Geralt started, making Jaskier’s heart drop, “make promises.”

And okay that wasn’t the worst he could have said but also - uh what ? “Okay? Well I- I’m not asking you to?”

“Hmm.”

“Geralt, I- I had a really nice time with you, you know? And I’d really like to have more… nice times with you. And not just sex, I mean, yes, sex was fantastic, it was , but also, well- what I mean is, I don’t expect you to like, abandon your life or whatever, I just-” he was running out of breath. “Gosh I’m talking too much again, fuck, please, say something? I’m getting zero feedback here and you have to know I’m gonna keep talking until you cut me off-”

“Sorry,” Geralt sighed, his fingers threading between Jaskier’s. “It’s just- This is… I haven’t been with someone in a while and,” he said with hesitation and left the sentence unfinished.

And never with a man , Jaskier thought, pretty sure of what was coming next. “Right,” he said, feeling his throat tighten. Not like he wasn’t used to falling for people who just didn’t have the same life plan- or day plan , even.

“But I think I would,” Geralt said, “like to see you again, I mean.”

“Wait, what?“ Jaskier’s brain derailed.

“I’d like to see you again?” Geralt repeated and it sounded even better the second time.

“Oh.”

"I… had a nice time, too.”

“Oh. Good,” Jaskier whispered, relief washing over him and unlocking the door to yearning. He moved forward, closer to Geralt, his hand sliding up to his shoulder, finding his cheek and feeling the beginning of a stubble under his fingers. “Good,” Jaskier murmured again. Feeling Geralt lean into him was the best reward. He moved his head closer and his nose rubbed softly against Geralt’s, the intimacy sweeter than some of the sex he’d had in the past.

Geralt inclined his head slightly and pressed a chaste, tender kiss against Jaskier’s lips.

Once they parted, phone numbers were exchanged and the soft wish of getting in touch soon was expressed - or, rather, as Jaskier put it as he walked Geralt to the door, “in touch and, well, in touch .” A freaking poet.

-

The morning after they “had a milkshake” - as Jaskier nicknamed their first close encounter - Geralt had gone home right before sunrise to find Eskel wide awake, sitting on the living room couch, a book on his lap. Eskel had looked at him, raised an eyebrow, and pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “Coffee?” was all he had said and Geralt had been oh so grateful.

In the days that followed, he learned a bit more about Jaskier. He taught both poetry and musicology at university, gave private lessons, and performed with his band from time to time. Spring meant preparing finals, helping students to rehearse for auditions, and getting ready for the upcoming festivals The Bard would participate in. Between his schedule and Geralt’s, over a month had gone before they saw each other in the flesh again. But texting? Texting was definitely a Jaskier thing.

A couple of hours after Geralt had left, Jaskier had sent him a text saying “my bed misses you” . Geralt had promptly walked from one meeting to another, only realising at 6.30 pm during a phone call from Assengard, as he caught sight of the restaurant from across the street, that he had left Jaskier hanging. He tried to think of something clever on his way to pick Ciri up from her fencing class. To his surprise, his idea had worked very well on Jaskier.

Of course, as with most things concerning Jaskier, Geralt quickly discovered, it was prone to get out of hand. The man had decided that “the milkshake” would become “a thing”. The fact that Geralt’s favourite order at Denise’s included a vanilla milkshake with cream on top was apparently hilarious for reasons Geralt could not understand.

Since then, Geralt would receive texts from Jaskier every few days, ranging from “thinking of u” to “which one of these says ‘I am a 100%-responsible adult person who will turn your child into a virtuoso if you allow me to teach them?’” with a picture of two button-down shirts attached.

Geralt had left him on read , the bastard.

-

After the six most frustrating weeks of his life - yes, more frustrating than the whole summer he spent sharing a flat with a Spanish model who had very loud, very heterosexual sex on the other side of their paper-thin, shared bedroom wall - Jaskier finally got his hands back on his favourite lawyer’s ass.

They had agreed Geralt would meet him at his place that Friday after work. And so, Jaskier spent the afternoon trying to convince himself he could mark students’ essays, and was absolutely not in the hellish head-space where nervousness meets horniness. (He made it through five so he counted it as a win.)

He had changed outfits three times in two hours, and had promised Essi he absolutely was not falling for some seemingly perfect person who would then turn out to have a secret wife, three children and a dog (“Well since you’re asking, he has a very public ex-wife, one daughter, and a horse.” “A horse?” “Yup.” “What the hell?” “I have no fucking clue.”)

Jaskier was busy adjusting a sofa pillow to make it appear tidy-but-casual when the bell rang, making him jump out of his skin.

When he opened the door, Geralt looked like he was two seconds away from running back down the stairs and disappearing forever in some mysterious vineyard near Toussaint. Geralt, being the absolute asshole that he was, also looked like a fucking god amongst humans so Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him once again. He had almost forgotten how stunning the man was.

“Hi,” Geralt said.

Jaskier shook himself out of his dreamy smitten state and felt a tingle in his cheeks as he blushed. “Hey, come on in,” he said, waving the man inside.

Geralt had his hair tied in a casual bun and was wearing a black winter coat way above Jaskier’s pay grade. Gods, what a sight. Jaskier was fucked .

“Are you-”

“So how’s-”

They both started and stopped at the same time, which made Jaskier laugh and Geralt shake his head as he looked away, a side of his mouth rising into a smile. Boy, Jaskier thought, if Geralt was half as fond of him as he was of Geralt, they’d be married in three years, move to a farm in five, and adopt every stray dog in the area a year after that at the latest.

“Can I take your coat?” Jaskier offered.

As Geralt nodded, Jaskier got his hands on the lapels of Geralt’s coat, fingers absent-mindedly pressing against Geralt’s chest, feeling the soft wool, and the strong pecs underneath all the layers. A moment passed and he realised Geralt hadn’t moved an inch. He stopped staring at his own hand and, as he looked up, realised Geralt was looking at him. Or more like, looking at his mouth.

There was a beat and they both moved forward, catching each other’s lips.

“Fuck, is it ok to say I’ve missed you?” Jaskier breathed between two kisses.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, pushing Jaskier against the door and leaving his lips to kiss and suck the skin of his neck.

“Ah, okay, I’ll take that as a yes,” he half-moaned and got Geralt’s mouth back against his, kissing like he just couldn’t get enough- because he couldn’t. Geralt got rid of his coat, letting it fall onto the floor.

“M-maybe we should take a second to hang it. It looks expensive.”

“It’s a gift from my ex,” Geralt mumbled against Jaskier’s skin, biting tentatively at his Adam’s apple.

“Or we could stomp all over it,” Jaskier deadpanned. Geralt laughed against his throat and Jaskier felt it resonate through his chest.

“So you’re the possessive kind, then?”

“Uh,” Jaskier bit his lip, “only if that turns you on.”

Geralt kissed a line up to Jaskier’s ear and caressed him through his trousers as he nibbled at his earlobe. In the softest, most quiet whisper, he murmured: “It does.”

Jaskier groaned with pleasure and Geralt kissed him in earnest, his hand still fondling the man’s inseam. He pressed his pelvis against Jaskier’s and both moaned from the supplementary friction.

“Let me try something?” Geralt asked against Jaskier’s lips before promptly getting down onto his knees.

“Oh, wow, okay,” Jaskier gasped as Geralt went straight for his belt. “Ah- w-wait, you- you sure?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, undoing the man’s button and zipper until Jaskier’s hands came to rest softly over his.

“No, I’m serious, you don’t have to.”

"I know,” Geralt answered, looking up at him. “I want to.”

“Okay. Okay. Just stop if it’s not good with you, right?”

“Right.”

He pulled Jaskier’s trousers down, not wasting any time. The curved line of his hardening cock was obvious under his underwear and Geralt slowed down, caressing the back of Jaskier’s thigh with one hand, the other moving up to his crotch. He palmed Jaskier through his boxer briefs (his navy blue boxer briefs) and was delighted to see him try to control his breathing through the surging wave of desire.

“Take them off for me?” Geralt asked, his voice rough with arousal.

Jaskier breathed out shakingly and slid his thumbs under the waistband, pulling his underwear down under Geralt’s relentless attention. Unable to stop himself, Jaskier took his own cock in hand and stroked himself, humming with pleasure with the first movement of his wrist. Geralt was sitting on his ankles, mesmerised.

“You like watching?” Jaskier asked, and even though the answer was pretty obvious, Geralt didn’t say it out loud. He raised to his knees, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s thighs, every breath softly tickling Jaskier’s skin, the hand maintaining its rhythm.

Moving upwards, Geralt’s tongue darted out to lick Jaskier’s balls, surprising him so much the back of his head hit the door, generating a moan which turned into a wince and then back into a moan again. Geralt’s smile shaped the kiss he pressed on Jaskier’s thigh as his fingers brushed through the man’s pubic hair, and slid up to find Jaskier’s hand, slowing it down.

Jaskier felt Geralt’s hot breath coming closer to his cock and had to bite his lower lip when the other man’s lips brushed against his fingers, kissing them one by one, silently asking him to let go. Jaskier didn’t need much convincing until, of course, fuck his goddamn unstoppable brain, a thought occurred to him.

“Wait!” he exclaimed and, at least, was blessed with the sight of Geralt looking up at him with surprise, his lips apart, tongue visible, and… Fuck, he looked so innocent and yet devilishly hot like this.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! Just- safety, right? You can, uh, get STIs. From, you know, sucking off someone unprotected. So you should be safe, you know.”

“Uh,” Geralt frowned. “Do you have STIs I should worry about?”

“No, I’m clean. I just mean, you know, in general.”

“I don’t need sex ed, Jaskier.”

“I know,“ he said, unconvincingly. "I’m just saying. Cause, like, it matters, and, you… well, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded even though he didn’t really. “Anything else?” he asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

“Well, you shouldn’t take my word for it.”

“What?” Well, he only had himself to blame, right? He did ask.

“That I’m clean. I mean you can’t take people’s word for it, sometimes people just-”

“ Jaskier. I’ve slept with strangers before,” Geralt said bluntly, missing the brief pained look on Jaskier’s face at being classified as a stranger . “You’re clean. I’m clean. If you’re fine with this, I’m fine with this.”

“Yes. Yeah, I am. I am. Sorry,” Jaskier shook his head. “Did I just ruin it? It’s just, it matters you know, so I figured-”

“Jask. I get it. It’s fine,” Geralt said, rubbing his thumbs on each of Jaskier’s hip bones. “Can I suck your cock, now?” he asked softly. Jaskier’s worries disappeared from his mind instantly, and he nodded enthusiastically about twelve times above the consent limit.

Geralt took him into his hand and stroked him, slowly but firmly, further limiting his brain’s already diminished access to oxygen. Geralt’s other hand had reached out to fondle his ass and his fingers began to lightly drum along the back of Jaskier’s thigh, brushing softly, ghosting against his skin, and sending a brand new kind of sparks of want to Jaskier’s cock.

After a few strokes, Geralt brought his lips to the base of Jaskier’s shaft, kissing the hairs in a way one could have described as chaste if it hadn’t been happening so close to another man’s dick. He then proceeded to drop fuller kisses on the soft skin of Jaskier’s cock, pressing his lips against the skin almost reverently as his hand kept working Jaskier. When he was satisfied with the soft noises and the sound of fast breathing above him, he guided his hand back to the base of Jaskier’s cock, pumping a few times before guiding the tip of Jaskier’s dick to his mouth as he licked .

“Fffuck-” Jaskier gasped, and Geralt smiled.

Wetting his lips, he opened his mouth and wrapped it around the very tip of Jaskier’s cock, kissing it wetly, his tongue running against the underside. He let go, only to kiss the side of the head with an open mouth and then took Jaskier’s cock again.

As soon as he had run into Geralt at the bar, Jaskier had been both mindlessly infatuated and completely unsure what to expect. Geralt’s enthusiasm for learning to give head was definitely one of the things he didn’t see coming.

Geralt’s hand fondled his butt cheek again. As he pressed the tip of his fingers lightly against his sacrum, Jaskier sighed and angled his pelvis forward the way Geralt’s hand invited him to. Geralt took a slow breath through his nose, obviously trying to relax as much as he could as he moved forward, taking in a little more of Jaskier in his mouth and sliding his lips over the ring of Jaskier’s cock.

“Oh,” escaped from Jaskier’s lips as Geralt drew back slightly and took more of him again. “Oh darling, oh, yes, that’s good,” he stammered, caressing Geralt’s cheek before drawing back and slapping his hand against the door to ground himself and to restrain from grabbing the back of Geralt’s neck.

Geralt groaned softly at the loss, reaching out for Jaskier’s hand, closing his eyes as soon as he felt Jaskier’s touch again. He moaned as he kept sucking him slowly, clearly enjoying the guiding hand on his cheek.

“Oh, darling,” Jaskier moaned. His thumb rubbed softly against Geralt’s stubbly cheekbone before his hand slid against his cheek and jaw encouragingly. “Oh, that’s good, yeah that’s- Keep going, love,” he whispered again.

Biting his lower lip, Jaskier kept caressing Geralt’s cheek, whispering sweet nothings and sliding his fingers through the other man’s hair, convinced Geralt would have purred around his cock if he could.

"That’s really good, sweetheart,” and as Geralt enthusiastically took him a tad deeper, he just couldn’t help himself. “Oh, that’s my good boy ,” he moaned and Geralt all but choked on his dick.

Pulling back and resting a hand against the floor, half-slipping on his discarded coat, Geralt coughed and tried to get his breath back from choking on his own spit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry-” Jaskier kneeled by him hastily - and heavily . Having his jeans pooled around his knees wasn’t exactly helping him be graceful. “You alright?”

“Fine,” Geralt rasped, a bright shade of pink all over his face. He coughed again.

“Do you need a drink or something?”

Geralt laughed brokenly through a cough. “To help me forget I could have bitten your dick off?” he asked and Jaskier huffed.

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled, brushing away the hair across Geralt’s face as he leaned to kiss him. “This cock has seen worse.”

“That’s always comforting,” Geralt mumbled against his lips.

Jaskier laughed and caught his lips into another kiss, enjoying the way Geralt sighed comfortably, and held on to the back of his neck. His hand wandered to find the hem of Geralt’s shirt and slipped under his waistband before he arrived at a bright idea. “What if - and I know it’s going to be a very bold, and novel concept, but hear me out - what if we stopped using my front door and living room floor as acceptable fucking surfaces and straight out moved to the bed?”

“Hmm,” Geralt mused falsely. “Didn’t know there was anything straight about you,” he snarked and was met with a playful slap on the breast accompanied by Jaskier’s cackling laughter.

“Oh, look who’s talking now!”

They fumbled to get Jaskier back on his feet - “well I do love to spend time on my knees” - and got rid of the jeans which were annoyingly getting in their way, to then move on to the bedroom.

-

His bedroom, Jaskier decided, was absolutely ruined . Nothing would ever look better than Geralt sprawled on his bed, naked, his hard cock pressed against his lower belly. If Geralt ever decided to break things off with him - a thought which, despite people often calling him dramatic, he knew was perfectly realistic - Jaskier would have to change the room entirely. He would repaint the walls, get new furniture, burn the bed, maybe, or - to simplify - move places. No, there was no way a single soul could ever sleep on sheets which had touched Geralt’s skin without missing his presence like any respectable bard would miss their medieval lute.

At that moment, however, this bard was straddling Geralt’s lap, his arms around Geralt’s neck, while being held around his middle and kissed languorously. They were both naked, every inch of skin yearning to feel the other, and not a single thing was amiss.

“Would you like to touch yourself for me, darling?” Jaskier asked between two kisses, his voice low and syrupy.

A groan came from the bottom of Geralt’s throat and vibrated against Jaskier’s tongue.

“Fuck, I love the noises you make,” he whispered against Geralt’s lips, catching the man’s tongue in another open-mouth kiss.

Geralt started stroking his own cock and howled, and Jaskier broke the kiss unintentionally, unable to stop smiling at the sheer bestiality of the man.

Jaskier smacked his lips against Geralt’s a few more times as Geralt chased his mouth for more. Curving his hand around Geralt’s cheek, he kissed him one more time before slipping his thumb on his lips. He didn’t expect Geralt to kiss his finger, chastely, then lick its tip and lustfully take it in his mouth. Jaskier didn’t sigh as much as he whined .

“Would you prepare yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, making his intentions clearer, his voice a bit hesitant but hopeful.

Geralt let go of his thumb, letting Jaskier caress his lips lovingly. “Maybe it’s better if you do it,” he said, kissing the inside of Jaskier’s palm in an obvious attempt to hide his face.

“Is it?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt closed his eyes, something like regret written on his face.

“I’m not very good at it,” he grimaced.

“You’ve done it before?”

Geralt hummed, uncomfortable. “Since last time,” he clarified. “It didn’t really- I don’t know, maybe it’s not my thing,” he shrugged, still avoiding Jaskier’s eyes.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered, his voice coated with kindness, unable to stop himself as he tipped Geralt’s chin up and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. “You can’t become a virtuoso on the first try,” he said.

Geralt frowned but then hid his discomfort behind a playful look. “Are you saying my ass is a musical instrument-”

“Shush, you!” Jaskier giggled. “I’m trying to be serious, for once!” he chastised him.

Geralt snickered and hid his face back into Jaskier’s hand, softly kissing his wrist.

“Maybe you had one of the best orgasms of your life the first time you rubbed one out but we , regular human beings, had to work for it,” he paused for more dramatic flair. “L ong and hard and again and again …” he wiggled his eyebrows and Geralt snorted. “We learn what feels good and what doesn’t. Just because you’re ol-” Geralt gave him a pointed look “ -der doesn’t mean you don’t need to get to know yourself.”

“Nice save,” Geralt deadpanned.

“I know, right? Almost seamless,” Jaskier smiled back, clearly full of shit, and went in for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Geralt sighed. “I think I’d rather-” he hesitated, “get on with it, you know.”

“Get on with it?” It was Jaskier’s turn to raise an unconvinced eyebrow.

“Yeah, just get it done.”

“My, what a romantic you are,” Jaskier snickered and Geralt rolled his eyes, trying to make amends by rubbing Jaskier’s skin with his thumb where his hand rested on his hip.

“You just said it, first times suck. I just gotta- get through it and then, well. Hopefully, we get to the good stuff.”

“G- get through it ? You know this isn’t CrossFit, right?”

Geralt snorted. “You know what I mean,” Geralt said, then bit his lip as he frowned, pressing his forehead against Jaskier’s. “You know I’m not-,” he waved his hand, “good at this.”

“Words?”

He puffed. “Yeah, words.”

“Yeah, I got that. I hear you.” Jaskier smoothly brushed a strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear. “There’s something else I heard. ‘First times suck’ ? Well challenge accepted, my dear,” he said and Geralt laughed as he kissed him again.

Geralt let himself be slowly pushed down to the bed as they kissed, his hands moving up Jaskier’s back, feeling the muscles along the way. His hand reached the back of Jaskier’s neck, covering it for a moment before he buried his fingers into the man’s hair as they softly ground against each other.

Jaskier slid his hand between them, giving both of their cocks a pull before moving lower. “Raise your legs for me, darling?” he asked in low tones, sliding his hands under Geralt’s knees. He could feel Geralt slightly tensing up as he set his feet to the mattress. It didn’t feel like it had anything to do with the scar Jaskier had brushed with his fingertips.

“Shouldn’t I be on my hands and knees?” he asked in a breath while Jaskier’s hands found their way back to his chest.

“You could,” he kissed a spot on his jaw, caressing Geralt’s pectoral. “You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier?” his voice was fairly tight and Jaskier faintly wondered if it was any clue to the state of his ass- and then kept the thought very much to his stupid dick-jokes self.

“Nah, not necessarily,” he whispered, trying to make his hands into a calming, solid presence against Geralt’s skin, caressing his breasts, his ribs, his clavicles, lining his scars with the care they deserved. Whichever God carved this man’s body, Jaskier swore to worship them until the end of his days.

“It can be straining to hold that position. Also…” Jaskier raised himself to face Geralt, picking up the man’s hand as it slipped over his shoulder and kissed the root of each finger. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it,” he said. “We don’t have to do it today.” He weaved his fingers between Geralt’s and kissed their tips. “And we don’t have to do it ever.”

Geralt’s face became closed off as he took a slow breath in, bolting up the gates before Jaskier had a chance to read him. He raised to meet Jaskier, his hand finding the perfect place at the back of his neck, and kissed him earnestly.

“I want you to fuck me,” he said against his lips.

“Yeah?” Jaskier gasped. “Got you, loud and clear,” Jaskier whispered and leaned into another kiss.

He broke away from Geralt to reach his nightstand drawer, pulling out some lube and condoms. He grabbed a pillow, invited Geralt to raise his hips and slid it underneath.

“Now, where was I?” he said under his breath, settling between Geralt’s legs and rubbing their bodies against each other. Geralt moaned and wrapped a leg around Jaskier’s pelvis, grinding back eagerly.

Holding his thigh with one hand, Jaskier began kissing his neck, licking and biting the skin at his throat, intending to take care of every inch of Geralt’s body. He licked one of Geralt’s nipples, extracting a moan from Geralt when he sucked and scraped his teeth against the strong muscle of his tit. Feeling Geralt slowly relax under his hands, he headed lower, kissing the pale hairy line that led from his navel to his cock.

He squeezed Geralt’s cock gently, carefully caressing the tip with his thumb and watching the precome spread, shiny against the soft skin. He looked up at Geralt as he moved his hand steadily up and down, a spark of ecstasy jumping from his heart to his cock at the sight of Geralt, eyes closed, biting his lower lip. Every moment assured Jaskier that pleasuring this man was actually his entire life’s purpose.

Geralt hummed with pleasure as Jaskier wrapped his lips around his cock, already struggling not to buck his hips when Jaskier took more of him in his mouth.

Jaskier couldn’t help but hum around his dick as he took it in, playing with depth and rhythm like a true maestro, his fingers threading through the light grey curls of Geralt’s pubes. He then let go of Geralt’s cock with an obscene pop that made him laugh and licked up from the spot right above Geralt’s balls.

Geralt’s hips stirred in both pleasure and surprise.

Jaskier got his hands back on the lube as he kissed and licked the man’s balls, encouraged by the whines and groans that escaped Geralt’s throat. He warmed his lubed fingers against each other and caressed Geralt’s ass with what he wouldn’t deny was absolute adoration. “Can I touch you, darling?” he asked, his voice a bit rough.

Geralt breathed a “yeah” and sounded almost like he was begging but Jaskier gracefully didn’t comment on it. (He, however, definitely took note.) Instead, he slid a hand between Geralt’s cheeks and brushed a finger against his hole as his mouth drove back down Geralt’s beautifully thick cock.

Jaskier teased a little, trying out different pressures against the man’s hole before the song of Geralt’s moans left no room for doubt. He slid his forefinger in while his other hand caressed Geralt’s inner thigh and finally felt the heat of Geralt’s body wrapped around his finger. He pulled back slightly and pushed again, this time steadily driving his finger deeper, synching his hand with the movements of his neck.

Despite Geralt’s frequent struggles with words, his gasps and moans were graced with great clarity and proved sufficient to let Jaskier know he was right to keep going. As far as non-verbal cues go, he also quickly found delight in feeling the walls of Geralt’s ass tightening around him and the taste of more precome coating his tongue.

“ Ah , your mouth,” Geralt moaned, reaching out and grasping onto Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier closed his eyes and moaned, aching for better friction than the bit of sheet he could rub his cock against. Grabbing the lube with one hand, he couldn’t help but jerk himself a couple of times as Geralt’s hand kept pulling his hair with each bop of his head.

Pointedly slowing down and looking up, he waited for Geralt’s attention to focus on him. He made a point of keeping their eyes locked as he shamelessly pulled up and let go of his cock. “D’you want another finger, honey?” he asked, perfectly aware of how depraved he had to look with his hair astray and his lips as probably as crimson as the tip of Geralt’s cock.

Geralt pulled him closer and met him with a crushing kiss as he nodded and moaned against Jaskier’s brow. “Hm- wait,” he breathed, holding Jaskier back as he started to let go, “I haven’t touched you at all,” he complained, his hands cupping Jaskier’s ass in a kind but firm grasp.

“Ah- It’s alright, love,” Jaskier said. “We’ve got time for that,” he smiled against Geralt’s lips but before he could leave again, Geralt grabbed his hand.

“I want you to feel as good as I do,” he breathed.

“Oh, trust me, darling, I’m feeling fantastic,” Jaskier grinned. They kissed one more time before Geralt let go of him and Jaskier drove his attention back to his lover’s lower body.

Geralt sighed as he settled his head back against his pillow, muttering something about how Jaskier was going to kill him.

Jaskier brought one hand at the base of Geralt’s cock, put his mouth back to work and fingered him a little while longer before adding another slick finger. Geralt whined and Jaskier reached out for his hand, threading their fingers together, hoping Geralt would know it was his way of checking in before Geralt sighed “ Yeah, s’good ,” in a tone that sounded pretty far gone.

He fucked Geralt with his fingers a few tentative times and curled them softly on the way out. In case he had any doubt his fingers were brushing against the right spot, Geralt’s hips jerked, driving his cock further down Jaskier’s throat.

“Ah, fuck ,” Geralt moaned. “Fuck, sorry,” slipped from his lips as if he was holding back so many more words.

Jaskier squeezed his hand in reassurance and kept sucking on Geralt’s dick until he could feel him tremble. He rubbed against Geralt’s prostate, drinking in every noise leaving the man’s lips, every movement revealing his pleasure.

“Ah, Jask,” Geralt moaned again, clutching to Jaskier’s hand like nothing would ever be able to make him let go. “Jas- Jaskier, ah , Jask, wait, I’m gonna-”

His hips buckled and his back raised from the mattress as he came, mouth open, gasping. He moaned and groaned as Jaskier kept fucking him onto his fingers until he was done spilling.

Jaskier slid his fingers out of Geralt’s ass, unable not to pull on his own cock even as he wiped off his mouth and tried to catch his breath, resting his forehead against the soft flesh of Geralt’s hip.

“Fuck,” Geralt whispered as he stretched, the last tingles of pleasure leaving his body. He brought his hands to his face, covering his blush and groaned “ fuck ” in a wholly different tone.

“Hey,” Jaskier gasped, slowing down the movements of his wrist and bringing his other hand to touch Geralt’s arm. “Hey, you alright?”

“Hmm,” he groaned from under his hands.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he asked and Geralt huffed.

“I just came like a teenager, darling ,” Geralt mumbled, the edge of his sarcasm largely smoothed out by post-coital bliss.

Jaskier chuckled. “No, you didn’t. You held up really well,” he said, caressing Geralt’s forearm. “My charms were simply too mighty for you to keep it in any longer,” he whispered, and kissed his other wrist and hand, hoping Geralt would emerge from his hiding place.

Geralt groaned again, unconvinced, but let his hand slip away when Jaskier kissed his knuckles, allowing the other man to paint his cheek with the sweet brush of his lips.

“I wanted you,” Geralt whispered, in a weak, almost plaintive way.

“I’m still right here, love,” Jaskier whispered back. “You still have me,” he said at the corner of Geralt’s lips, pressing his mouth softly against his. He found Geralt pressing back with the same tenderness then savouring the taste his own come on Jaskier’s tongue.

They stayed like this for a moment, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s arms, slowly kissing and holding each other.

“Do you need me?” Geralt asked after Jaskier buckled against his hips involuntarily.

“If your schedule allows it,” Jaskier joked, hiding his face in his neck and humming as he rubbed himself against Geralt.

“What do you want?” Geralt asked, caressing the length of Jaskier’s back, pressing his fingers along the muscles, waking up every fibre of Jaskier’s body.

“This,” Jaskier murmured, “This is perfect.”

He rubbed himself slowly against Geralt as the man covered him in caresses, the callousness of Geralt’s hands contrasting with the softness of his gestures. He ground against Geralt’s hip lazily, welcoming the pressure of Geralt’s hands on his ass, feeling the imprint of each finger into his flesh. His cock was still smeared with lube and the mess he’d spit onto Geralt’s pelvis made for a dirty, wonderful help.

“You look so good like this,” Geralt whispered, kissing a spot under his ear. “You feel so good against me,” he said softly, his tenderness almost making Jaskier come on the spot.

“ Ah , please, touch me,” he begged and Geralt reached for his cock like a servant knight, enthusiastically escorting him to rapture as Jaskier fucked into his hand again and again and again , his shout resonating through the bedroom as he came.

Geralt held him as Jaskier made his way back down, their bodies sweaty and well spent, comfortably intertwined.

After a while during which Jaskier’s mind drifted and fluttered between sleep and consciousness, he adjusted his body to kiss the side of Geralt’s jaw.

“Care to be introduced to my shower?” he asked sleepily.

“Hmm. Good call,” Geralt nodded, and pressed a kiss against his temple.

-

When Geralt walked out of the shower, freshly cleaned up and smelling like Jaskier’s lemon soap, his clothes were neatly arranged on the bed. He got dressed and followed the sound of Jaskier’s humming, finding him in the kitchen frowning at some delivery menus. He was biting his lip, seeming pretty conflicted and Geralt surprised himself thinking: shit, he’s cute.

He kept expecting to have a change of heart any minute now. It was, after all, bound to happen, the next logical step, the most probable outcome: one morning he would wake up and realise that surely this had all been fun but he wasn’t into it anymore. He just had gotten a bit confused and wasn’t actually feeling so much for this man- or any other man, or any other person for that matter.

After splitting up with Yen, he thought he’d never grow fond of someone enough to want anything (at least anything more than sex, but even sex was quite low on his list of priorities). With Jaskier, though- it was like every other day, Geralt would find another thing he’d like to share with the handsome man who had run into him and insisted on sticking around.

“Hey,” Jaskier said, noticing him in the doorway. “So I was thinking, either Casa Lauretta or Athumani’s Kitchen , what do you think? And before you say anything- I know , take out again, but I can’t both try to seduce you and subject you to my cooking.”

Geralt snorted. “You’ve had me in your bed already. Twice. ” he said, raising a playful eyebrow. “At what point will you consider me successfully seduced?”

“Uh, I don’t know, some time between the third dog and the second honeymoon, I guess?” Jaskier pretended to ponder.

Geralt blinked at him and his smile froze on his face. He often struggled with words to begin with but Jaskier mastered the art of leaving him speechless. Banter was his realm. Jaskier knew the terrain by heart and he revelled in it. He was light on his feet and quick on his toes. Every time Geralt tried to play his game and stepped towards Jaskier, the distance separating them seemed to grow.

He felt like a novice trying to catch up with a man who had hiked the trail his whole life, knew its twists and turns by heart. No matter how much he tried to relax and enjoy the sights by Jaskier’s side, he still felt the man would always be ahead of him. Like he would never be able to catch up and stay stuck in the land of the new and uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. “What’s in these cupboards of yours?“ he asked, brushing past Jaskier to open a few of them. At first, the answer seemed to be both everything and not much at all . But after initial confusion, he realised Jaskier might actually have a system.

Items weren’t sorted by kind but rather by what goes well together: canned mushrooms next to rice, coconut milk next to curry powder, sliced bread between jam and mustard. He wasn’t sure why "365 Lesser-known Eastern Medieval Poems” was stacked with cereals, or why Jaskier’s watch was in a bowl, but he could find out with time.

Something tickled the back of his neck and he realised Jaskier was playing with his hair, a bit of a smitten look on his face. As Geralt looked at him, Jaskier froze and blushed.

“Sorry,” he said, retreating his hand. “I love your hair,” he said sheepishly.

“I lost my hairband somewhere,” Geralt said, looking around.

“It looks good like this too,” Jaskier said. “Pretty sure it looks good all the time,” he smiled and brushed an escapee strand of hair back behind Geralt’s ear.

And here it was: another immensely confusing thing about Jaskier. The man radiated self-confidence 99% of the time. He could bathe in the attention of a crowd, flirt shamelessly with a complete stranger and whisper the filthiest words, dirtiest things- he could fantasize out loud about getting married to a man he’d only known for a few weeks. Yet there was also a shyness about the smallest of things, a vulnerability . It made Geralt want to pick him up and take him to safety- and he was perfectly aware of how ridiculous that sounded. But it felt like maybe, Jaskier’s hidden, more reserved side was a path where they could meet halfway.

He leaned towards him and kissed the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. “Thank you,” he said.

Jaskier smiled and his whole face illuminated. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Good,” Geralt nodded, taking his attention back to the cupboard. And so here he was again, taking a step back on what had started to feel like a comfortable route and stiffly navigating in between the metaphorical potholes on the road leading to Jaskier. As it turned out, talking about how his ass felt after getting fingered was not Geralt’s forte either. But Jaskier - in a moment of extreme humility - had described himself as a master of words and rhythm and that’s exactly what he was. He could use any word, touch upon any topic, express any emotion. Jaskier had a whole planisphere at his disposal, a means to take any road; Geralt had shitty directions and a compass that only told North once in a blue moon.

“No pain?”

“No,” he answered, closed the cupboard and exited Jaskier’s personal space to grab the menus. “Maybe delivery’s better, you’re right,” he said.

“Hmm,” Jaskier answered. “You do that a lot,” he pointed out.

Geralt gave him a look above his shoulder. “What?”

“Changing topics. Avoiding conversations,” Jaskier explained lightly. His tone was not judgemental. He was merely making an observation.

And so, “I’m not,” Geralt lied. He only realised he had lied the second he heard himself. Fuck . “I didn’t realise there was more to say.” Less of a lie. Not quite a half-truth.

Jaskier sighed softly and settled next to Geralt, pressing his forearms against the kitchen counter. "Margherita, then?” he asked. Geralt could see the tight shape of his lips and the square angle of his shoulders. Jaskier had obviously seen right through him but was dropping the subject for his sake.

“You’re disappointed,” he said and Jaskier’s head shot back up to look at him.

“With the pizza options?” Jaskier joked weakly.

“With,” he hesitated. “Me.”

“No-” Jaskier argued right away, raising his hand to cut him off. But Geralt knew how it was, what people expected, not unfairly, versus how little he could offer.

“It’s fine,” Geralt said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I-,” he paused to weigh his words carefully, eyes focused on the menus. "I’m not very good at-” he hesitated then snorted under Jaskier’s confused look. “ Opening up ?” he said, raising an eyebrow in Jaskier’s direction.

Jaskier laughed and reached out to rest his hand over Geralt’s. “Well, we’ve talked about this,” he said, with a shine in his eyes. “Practice makes better.” Geralt hummed, looking at Jaskier’s hand over his. To his surprise, Jaskier retracted his hand somewhat suddenly and he missed the weight of it right away. “And it’s not like we know each other that well, as you said,” he shrugged, at the edge of Geralt’s field of vision.

“I am ok,” he said, answering Jaskier’s previous question more honestly. “Bit weird but ok.” His brain then caught up with Jaskier’s words a moment too late; as you said ?

"Okay,” Jaskier said, offering a shy smile. “I- it’s okay if it doesn’t come naturally to you. I just- well, I’d just like you to be more comfortable with me. But we’ll get there, right?”

Geralt swallowed, closing and opening the hand that was resting on the counter to get rid of a slight tremor. Saying yes would have been another lie. He couldn’t make that promise. He had tried before, thought that maybe if he forced himself to be enough then things would work out eventually- but they hadn’t.

And so it would have been easy to say no , to back off entirely. He could tell Jaskier he wasn’t interested in building something, just wanted an easy fuck, to experiment a bit, and had simply gotten lucky enough to find a guy who wasn’t repelled by his shitty personality and off-putting scars. It would have been so easy- to tell Jaskier, “I don’t know what you thought you were getting out of this, but you won’t get me .” It was complete and absolute bullshit, a sad pack of lies, but it would be so much easier. He could get back to his life, his job, his kid and the handful of friends he still had, and never think about blue eyes or milkshakes again.

If only the thought didn’t make him nauseous.

Fuck, he wanted this.

“This isn’t casual for you, is it?” he asked, voice tight, and Jaskier startled, almost taking a step back. His face made an odd succession of expressions and he opened his mouth a couple of times before closing it again.

“I- I can be casual. I can be very casual. That’s not a problem, that’s not a- but I-,” he sighed and brushed his hand through his hair nervously. “Fuck, you really don’t fuck around, do you?” Geralt tried to come up with something to say but Jaskier shook his head, his voice way calmer now even if a bit wavering. “No. No, I don’t think I want to be casual with you. And- And you- you don’t w-”

“Me neither,” Geralt cut in before panic took over Jaskier.

The man’s eyes grew a little wider. “You neither?” he asked, and fuck if that wasn’t the most obvious display of naked hope Geralt had ever seen on anybody’s face.

Geralt shook his head and Jaskier seemingly had to fight a full-body shiver.

Jaskier walked the two steps separating them and kissed Geralt with his entire soul. When he pulled back, Geralt leaned into him again for another taste of his tongue. He brought a hand to Jaskier’s cheek and kissed him with feeling. When they parted, he kept his eyes closed, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s, the tip of his fingers grazing the short hair behind his ear.

“I’m not used to wanting…” Geralt said. “Sex is good. But usually I don’t- I don’t want more. With you, I- I don’t want to ru- to leave . And it’s…”

“Weird, isn’t it?” Jaskier offered, his voice tight but tone playful. The shy smile on his lips was a delicious cherry on top, making the teasing even softer. (Little did Jaskier know that a cherry was the only thing in Geralt’s opinion that could ever improve a creamy vanilla milkshake.)

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Geralt huffed. Jaskier kissed him, and after working through so many words, Geralt ran out of things to say. “So, yeah. Margherita’s good,” he whispered, and it was his turn to make Jaskier laugh. The man cleared his throat and sighed like a weight had been taken off his chest.

“I can’t believe you said all that before even knowing Lauretta delivers vanilla milkshakes,” he said and Geralt poked him in the ribs until they half-wrestled, laughing, Jaskier’s back hitting the fridge- and they were kissing again.

-

They talked over dinner for a while. Jaskier came up with questions for Geralt to answer, helping him ease into a casual conversation. They teased and flirted and laughed, and soon ended up in bed again, tasting each other’s skin and leaning into each other’s curves.

“Full disclosure?” Jaskier whispered against Geralt’s mouth as he was straddling him. “I really fucking love those tits of yours,” he said, cupping Geralt’s chest with his two hands. Geralt scoffed in between two kisses.

“They’re called pecs,” he said, enjoying the way Jaskier’s hands were basically venerating his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Jaskier replied, “I, good sir, am an artist, not an anatomist, and these are definitely some of the most magnificent boobies I have ever had the chance to see, touch and lick,” he said, brushing a nipple with his thumb while kissing Geralt’s jaw.

Geralt snorted and kept caressing Jaskier’s incredibly precious ass.

Jaskier sighed with contentment. “So, tell me your secret,” he mumbled against Geralt’s skin, finding a tendon in Geralt’s neck and following it with his lips, tongue and teeth. “How does a corporate lawyer get as buff as you?”

Geralt’s laugh was more of a scoff as he felt the more-or-less accidental brush of Jaskier’s cock against his.

“You’re one to talk,” he groaned, getting his hand into Jaskier’s hair and pulling him into a kiss. “Have you seen yourself, Professor?”

Jaskier suddenly pulled back, eyes wide and cheeks pink. “I- well- I mean I’m nothing close to- Your body is,” he huffed, seemingly at loss for words which was a very odd thing coming from Jaskier.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, bringing his hand to the small of the man’s back, and squinted. “You know you’re hot, right?” he asked seriously and witnessed Jaskier dissolve into a fit of giggles, ducking his head and blushing even harder.

“I’m- nah, I’m not-”

“ Jaskier ,” Geralt repeated with intent.

“I mean, I’m fine but I’m not- you’re like a, a- an underwear supermodel.”

Geralt snorted. “Right, they do love bodies covered with scar tissue in underwear magazines,” he said self-deprecatingly, making Jaskier frown.

“Don’t do that. You’re beautiful,” he chastised.

“If you say so-” Geralt shrugged.

“I do say so. Les Dessous de Beauclair can go fuck itself,” Jaskier replied and Geralt snorted again.

“Point still stands,” Geralt said. “You’re hot.”

Jaskier looked away again, biting his lower lip. “Wh-,” he started and then closed his mouth right away.

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Jaskier? I’m the one who isn’t much of a talker. There can’t be two of us,” he said, and Jaskier laughed, then hid his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s shoulders.

“What do you like about me?” he asked, his voice so small Geralt barely heard him. He let a moment pass, wondering where to start and how. He slid a hand at the back of Jaskier’s neck, caressing the short strands of hair.

“This,” he said. “Your hair right here. It’s short but long enough that I can grab it,” he felt Jaskier smile against his neck.

” Kinky ,“ Jaskier whispered.

“And I like your eyes,” Geralt said, too focused on picking the right words to get sidetracked. “At the bar, I-” he hesitated, pacing himself. “I noticed your eyes first,” he said and swallowed.

Jaskier hugged him tighter. “I love your eyes too,” he mumbled into Geralt’s hair. "They’re incredible.”

Geralt managed to duck his head and press a soft kiss below Jaskier’s ear. “Your cheekbones,” he said, his mouth finding the sweet spot at the base of Jaskier’s neck. “Your shoulders,” he whispered, kissing Jaskier’s clavicle, loosening their embrace to keep going lower. “Your collarbones,” he nipped his teeth at the bone above Jaskier’s chest, “they’re really, really hot,” he said and Jaskier giggled, still hiding his face by pressing his forehead against Geralt’s temple.

Geralt brought his hands up Jaskier’s back and felt him shiver, Jaskier’s hips startling gently against his, bringing a soft moan from the both of them. “Your back,” he said, “I really love your back- and your ass, gods ,” he linked his hands behind Jaskier’s neck and rolled his hips, their moans echoing through the room. “ Ah , and those fucking arms of yours,” Geralt whispered. “Have you seen those arms?” he repeated, still softly rubbing their cocks together with slow movements of his hips and caressing Jaskier’s arm. “I’m sure you could lift me up with those arms,” he said and Jaskier groaned. “Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you- would you like to hold me up and fuck me?”

“Oh, fuck,” Jaskier moaned, his face pressed against Geralt’s cheek. “Fuck, fuck, yes, yes please, yes,” he begged, and Geralt grabbed the hair at the back of his neck and pulled just enough for Jaskier to whine with pleasure as they both rushed in an almost bruising kiss.

Jaskier had a hard time pulling away from Geralt, but finally managed to turn towards the bedside table to retrieve lube and condoms.

Geralt flushed himself against his back, tearing a moan from Jaskier as his hand directly went for Jaskier’s cock and Geralt’s dick rubbed against his ass.

“Oh fuck, yeah- yeah , we gotta do this some time too, darling,” he panted and Geralt groaned, grinding against him.

“You would like that?” he breathed, his voice low and coated with desire.

“Gods, I’d fuck you anyway you want, darling-” he moaned, “-but fffuck , if you keep going, there isn’t going to be much left of me.”

Geralt chuckled against him. He pulled back, freeing Jaskier from his embrace and sitting back against the wall.

Jaskier kneeled in between his legs and tore the package open, sliding the condom on his cock, realising after raising his eyes that he was under Geralt’s scrutiny.

“You okay?” he asked at the exact moment Geralt breathed “Come here.”

Somehow they crashed into each other, and yet fit each other’s shapes perfectly.

Geralt raised on his knees, thighs parted, Jaskier’s hands moving from his cock to his balls, making his hips jerk and his teeth close on Jaskier’s lower lip as he moaned. Jaskier slid his fingers further, caressing the sweet spot of Geralt’s perineum, making Geralt break the kiss as he gasped.

“Fuck, please, Jask-”

“I’ve got you,” Jaskier murmured, kissing him again and coating his fingers with lube.

Geralt tried his hardest not to jerk himself off here and now, attempting to focus on rubbing Jaskier’s cock while his other arm rested around the man’s neck.

Jaskier teased the rim of his asshole and got a quick return on his investment as Geralt pulled a little harder on his dick, tearing a moan from his lips. He chuckled a bit breathlessly and slid a finger inside Geralt easily. It didn’t take long at all before a second finger joined the first.

“You okay, darling?” Jaskier breathed and Geralt nodded against his cheek.

For a while, they stayed like this, settled against each other, Jaskier slowly fingering him until Geralt couldn’t stop clenching around his fingers and asking for more.

When three fingers curved into him and caressed his prostate, Geralt thought he was going to come undone. “Fuck- fuck, fuck, fuck, Jaskier-,”

“Good?” Jaskier asked a bit worriedly.

“Fuck, yes , good,” Geralt bit in a tone that was halfway between “how the fuck could it be anything but good” and “don’t you fucking dare stop” , making Jaskier laugh again.

“Okay, darling- still love the enthusiasm,” Jaskier said while Geralt whined and begged until finally, fucking finally, Jaskier agreed he was ready. Jaskier slid between his thighs, his strong, well-built arms around Geralt’s middle and Geralt realised it was probably the first time he had been held like this in his entire life.

“Touch yourself for me?” Jaskier asked, his mouth against Geralt’s before Geralt shook his head.

“Can’t- gonna come if I do,” he breathed and Jaskier kissed him again.

“Please?” he asked. “I want to make sure it feels good,” he whispered, holding onto Geralt’s middle tighter.

Geralt complied and before long Jaskier’s hips were rising to meet his body. He felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock slide between his buttcheeks and touch the soft of his ass and he startled, pulling away and pressing back against Jaskier just as fast.

“Fuck,” he swore as Jaskier whined. “Please, Jask,” he moaned as the hand on his cock started shaking. He then felt the tip of Jaskier’s cock against him again, and the steady push of Jaskier’s hips as the head of Jaskier’s cock entered him. He whined as Jaskier pushed further and lowered himself as slow as he could with the lone strength of his thighs and Jaskier’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Ok?” Jaskier asked breathlessly. A gasp was all Geralt managed. His thoughts were an endless thread of fuck fuck fuck he couldn’t sort out in any order. “Yea- ah,” he broke, “ fuck ,”

“Is it too much?” Jaskier asked, “I can- I can stop, do you need me to stop?”

“ Don’t ,” Geralt moaned, clenching every single muscle in his body to keep Jaskier against him and eliciting a cry from Jaskier. His arms were around Jaskier’s shoulders, his forehead against the man’s temple. Geralt was holding onto him with everything he got.

“I just-” he tried to take a slow long breath thinking about everything he had learned through meditation and managed one ragged breath. “You’re a lot,” he managed in a sigh, clenching around Jaskier despite how much he tried to relax.

Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat half-way between pleasure and laughter. “I get that all the time,” he said cheekily.

“Don’t- don’t make me laugh,” he said, chuckling breathlessly, and Jaskier joined him, both trying to breathe through the involuntary clenching of Geralt’s inner muscles and the accidental movements of Jaskier’s hips.

They laughed into each other’s mouths as they kissed, mouth open, tongues licking each other’s lips, teeth biting softly, teasingly. When they were both ready, Jaskier pulled himself down as he helped Geralt raise on his knees and they met again, moaning and groaning.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered again and by then, Geralt had no fucking idea. He had never felt so tense and relaxed at once, uncomfortable but so fucking fantastic. His nerves and his ass were on absolute fire but it was good, it was good, it was so, so-

“So good,” he growled, aware that every part of his body was probably shaking in Jaskier’s arms. “ Ah , don’t stop,” he moaned, and Jaskier, incredible, astonishing, wonderful Jaskier did not stop .

Their hips moved in sync, feeding Geralt with the kind of friction he had never imagined could feel so good.

He let himself relax entirely into Jaskier’s embrace, sliding against the whole length of Jaskier’s body, pressing torso against torso, his forehead against Jaskier’s sweaty fringe, their noises brushing, their mouths breathing the same air.

“Ye-ah?” Jaskier moaned. “You like it? You really- ah , fuck- you- ah , you feel so good, does it feel good, tell me-” he rambled, far, so far from actually needing the reassurance.

Geralt groaned. “ Yes ,” he whined, “I like it, I like it, I like you , please,” and Jaskier whined and then did something- Geralt didn’t know, something, somehow, maybe went harder or faster or different, but he pulled and pushed and Geralt lost his fucking mind. He did it again and again, kissing Geralt, licking his neck, biting on his earlobe, caressing his nipples, bruising his hips in his grasp, pulling on his cock, whispering into his ear and making him whine and moan and shout until Geralt begged to be undone.

“I’ve got you, love,” Jaskier said, “I’ve got you.” Jaskier pulled harder on his hips in a half-broken groan, making Geralt slip towards him a little more.

Geralt arched his back, moaning in delight from the new angle. His neck was left exposed for Jaskier to kiss and lick, and breathe against Geralt’s skin. Every cell in Geralt’s body was burning and electric, and boiling. Everything felt so good and so much and so Jaskier , so he begged, begged again, and again for Jaskier to hold him and kiss him and fill him as he came, and so he did. He came, held, and kissed, and filled, and perfect, and Jaskier came, too, gasping into his mouth as they fell into each other.

For a moment, there was no other sound apart from the unsteady breathing and an occasional moan from the two of them as they slowly, comfortably, came back down to earth. Jaskier moved first, turning his head to kiss Geralt’s cheek, pushing his long white hair away from his face, and Geralt turned his head lazily towards him, leaning into a kiss.

“You ok?” Jaskier whispered, probably for the hundredth time and Geralt, for the thousandth time, hummed and nodded. Soon they would detach from each other, groaning from the discomfort of their sensible muscles, their come-dirtied bellies and lube-stained sheets anything but glamorous.

But for the time being, they laid their heads against each other’s shoulders, eyes closed, content with the feeling of holding and being held.

“Hey,” Jaskier whispered.

Geralt hummed questioningly.

“Stay for breakfast?” Jaskier asked. He missed the soft smile that drew on Geralt’s lips.

“Hmm.”

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

*SHORT SERIES 

Part 1: I Never Wanna See You Again

Member: *screaming* Lee JuyeON

Genre: angst, fluff, romance, chaebol/lawyer juyeon, and... smut????

Links to other parts:

I Never Wanna See You Again

~

Love Somebody (light smut)

Play With Fire (smut) 

“you’re a fucking lawyer.”

a soft chuckle escapes your ceo’s lips as he turns away, signalling to a staff you didn’t even notice standing in the corner of the living room.

“can i get two cups of tea please? thank you.”

you look at him, completely stunned and at a loss of words.

all this time, you just thought he was making you do all the work while he hid in the office. sunwoo and eric even made jokes about him jerking off in his big ol’ fancy chair...

when he was working on parts of the case that even you were blind to.

everything you did and researched on were just the basic facts and details he needed before he could pull out any more in-depth information and evidence to help you win the case.

and it hurt to know that there was no way you could’ve done it.

“do tell me when you’re done being surprised. we’ve got a lot to discuss about this case,” he comments emptily, not even looking at you while he pulls your file over for him to read.

“i’m sorry, but what the fuck?” you blurt out, completely forgetting that you were sitting right in front of the man who could fire you instantly. you should’ve shut up after the first time you called him a ‘fucking lawyer’, but you nearly regret it the moment you cursed again.

“you really need to work on your people’s skills,” he smirks, eyes still focused on the files. “you may be capable of clearing cases, especially for a newbie, but if you go off cursing in every line that comes out of your mouth, it becomes a valid reason for me to fire you. i can’t have you spitting those curse words in court.”

shut up or ask him again?

shut up or ask him why he hasn’t showed up in office for the last six months?

shut up or ask him why he hasn’t told anybody he’s a lawyer when the entire office is scared shitless of him and has no clue who he even i--

“what the fuck?”

your ceo sighs and drops his head a little, his hold on the sheets of paper loosening as he looks at you through the corners of his eyes.

“you know the entire office is either scared of you or hates you because everybody thinks you’re just...” you aggressively flail your hand around. “doing nothing.”

“aaaand may i know who exactly is ‘scared of me or hates me’?” he raises a brow. 

“i don’t know-- like every newbie is afraid to ask about you. i asked lee jaehyun and he shooed me away--”

“ah, that man kept his word.”

you frown, your confusion reaching a new height you never thought was possible.

“damn, now i owe him a trip to japan.”

“a trip to jap-- it was a bet?!” you nearly yell, but the staff arriving with your tea urges you to collect yourself for the umpteenth time today. 

and it wasn’t even 10 yet.

“finally a sentence without a curse word,” he says while nodding at the staff member. 

“what did you bet on?! whether he could keep his mouth shut about who you really are?! it doesn’t answer anything about why you’ve never stepped foot into the office, or why you act like an ass, or why you don’t even mention the fact that you’re a lawyer yourself--”

“whoa, whoa, whoa.”

you calm down from your high, not noticing that your voice was gradually getting louder. you couldn’t believe it. you felt so played by this man that you had nothing to say. 

it’s not like he did anything that actually hurt you or anything, but the fact that the entire office was so terrified of him or that nobody has said anything about him... when it was all a lie? 

“need i remind you, again, that i can fire you?” he leans back into his seat, hand holding the tea cup and you suddenly take note of how small the china looks in his hand. 

you swallow your saliva, noticing that your throat was dry and your heart was pounding in your chest. 

“if you must know, lee jaehyun was my senior when we were in law school. so yes, i had a bet with him to say that he wouldn’t be able to keep it to himself. my real identity, of course. he begged everyone else in the office whom i’ve met before to keep quiet about it. he would win once a newbie figures out that i’m a lawyer, which i guess he did.”

you could feel multiple question marks ascend from the top of your head. 

that was one problem down, but what about him MIA-ing for six months? what about him being such an asshole?

“now, can we get back to the case? i got my cousin to get you here to discuss more about the case, not to let you remind me that i lost a bet to jaehyun hyung.”

his what--

“yes, your manager is my cousin. now get a hold of yourself and let’s get this done with, please?”

you were so not used to him saying please after the last conversation you had with him was him asking you to get out of his office with his eyes. 

you try your best to wipe away all the questions that were being scribbled across the whiteboard in your head while he begins discussing the case with you. he points out little details and facts that linked in ways you never could’ve thought of. 

you were scribbling and writing notes in your own notebook while your ceo talks you through the whole ordeal. you throw out some ideas for defense and he does the same. you wonder if you’d ever have these in-depth discussions about a difficult case with sunwoo or chanhee or eric, ever. 

you were so absorbed in the case that you found yourself barefooted now, toes digging into the rug and you were now seated on the soft material between the sofa and the table. you don’t even notice until a staff member comes by your ceo and looks at you strangely. 

the staff bows and announces that lunch is ready as you struggle to your feet, embarrassed that you’ve completely made yourself at home in the middle of his living room. 

“oooh, what’s for lunch?” your ceo looks up at the staff member with puppy eyes, and it makes your gut churn. who is this man and what did he do with my ceo?

“three course meal, including ribeye steak with mushroom sauce and lobster, mr lee.”

you shoot your ceo a look of shock at the sound of the menu. 

“done by mrs jung, i assume?” he raises a brow, now standing up and patting down his black blazer, buttoning the base of his clothes. you fit your heels onto your feet, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the lunch had been catered for you, or he was going to kick you out of his penthouse.

you liked the first option, though the second would be more realistic and at least it’ll tell you that your ceo hasn’t been kidnapped and replaced by aliens. 

“yes, mr lee. she also prepared a red for you to pair with the steak, but she’s aware that you have a guest and you tend to be more particular about it when you do.”

your ceo turns to look at you, and you swore a small smile appeared on his lips at the sight of you awkwardly sitting on the sofa. 

“open the 1950 Chateau Latour,” he instructs the staff member, leaning forward to the table and carefully gathering the sheets of paper. he looks at you again, looking like he was making a decision in his head. 

“and get me a pair of house slippers for her. i don’t want her heels making noises all around the house.”

you let everything go with the flow, and soon you found your heels being taken away into some secret storage room near the lift. your feet were then presented with a pair of cotton slippers you’ve never felt so comfortable in. you were so happily engrossed in the attention of the house staff that were helping you that you don’t realise your ceo already ran off to somewhere else in the penthouse. 

you were aggressively thanking the staff for giving you the most comfortable slippers ever when you see him emerge from a hallway behind the kitchen you didn’t even notice from before. he was leaning against the corner of the wall, head resting on the brown surface as he watched you awkwardly bow to the staff members and childishly slide your way over to him.

you had no clue how you were so comfortable in his house. maybe it was the difference in the way he treated his own staff, and maybe it was the way they treated you that made you feel so at home. 

sure, you weren’t used to such a pampered lifestyle, but you expected worse. 

“i thought i was going to need a microphone to get you to come eat,” your ceo pushes himself off the wall and keeps his arms folded across his chest. standing right next to him made you feel kind of short, now that you weren’t wearing your heels. you back up a little, suddenly letting the fact that you were in your ceo’s house get to your head. 

“sorry.”

you hear him offer a tiny laugh under his breath, and you watch as his feet turn away and walk down the hallway. you trail after him, now only noticing that there was a single pair of doors to the right, between two family portraits.

you try to make out the faces under the dim, amber lighting now that you were away from the glass window, but he pushes the door open to a dining room. beyond the large table was a similar glass panel, but right above your heads hung a gorgeous chandelier with the light from outside reflecting off the crystals and painting diamonds on the walls. 

your ceo strolls in, and you follow closely behind, eyes still adjusting to all the details in the dining area. 

“you really didn’t need to be so extravagant with lunch and all--” you try to show your appreciation as the staff pulls out the chairs for the two of you and lay a napkin in your lap. 

“save it,” he interrupts. again, he wasn’t looking at you, but nodding at the staff members for helping him with the chair and the napkin. “i don’t have people over often because i don’t like it. today was just an exception because i had an important call to make and other things to attend to that i couldn’t do in office without losing my bet.”

an awkward pause. 

“and i feel bad for making you leave office just to accommodate me, so take this as a token of appreciation or gratitude or whatever you want to believe it is.”

you stifle a smile, but fail miserably. 

maybe an alien really kidnapped your boss, but you liked this version better anyway. 

you expected lunch to be boring and quiet, but all he does is call out for different staff members and offer them bits and pieces of his food, even asking mrs jung, the chef, to whip up snacks and dishes for them to eat. 

you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t heartwarming to see this side of him. 

you see him laugh and smile while communicating with his staff members, and they genuinely looked happy to be here. you’d totally expect them to be scared or worried about making a mistake, but never does your boss once falter even when one of the staff member nearly drops a plate while clearing them off the table. 

you were finally done with dessert and you could feel your pants tighten around your waist as you sit up. your boss was just calmly wiping his mouth with the napkin before politely handing it over to a staff member to clear. 

soon, you found yourself back in his living room, tummy filled and heart satisfied. your boss was nowhere to be seen, and you assume he was off chit-chatting with the staff members. the food coma was slowly sinking in and the warmth from the wine was making you more comfortable, when the same staff from before you gave you the slippers showed up next to the sofa with a set of clothes. 

“miss?”

you jerk at the call, and you immediately sit up. 

“uh...” you blink, confused at the sight. you were starting to think this was all a dream and that none of it was real. maybe the coffee you had a little off was wonky and now you’re just hallucinating--

“i told mr lee that you looked uncomfortable... so i asked him if it was okay that we got you a more comfortable set.”

“oh!” you exclaim in surprise. you hop to your feet, unsure if you should take the clothes. “i... wouldn’t it be strange if i did...?”

“it’ll be worse if he catches you being uncomfortable, trust me.” she smiles at you, kindly stretching the clothes out to you. 

it was so strange, and you don’t think the word “strange” would’ve cut it. 

the clothes fit you almost perfectly, the staff were working around you like you lived here, and your boss was nowhere in sight. 

it’s almost like you walked into an alternate dimension and you were just living a life that you could only dream of. 

you walk out of the over-sized walk-in wardrobe and bathroom after the staff makes sure you’re comfortable and return to the living room, the case files still strewn about and his stacked nicely. a staff was waiting by the sofa, so you could only guess that he must’ve had some kind of message from your boss.

“mr lee will be stuck in his office for most of his day. he has requested for you to stay for as long as you need before you finish whatever you need to do with the case files. here’s a note that he told me to pass to you.”

the information and the rest of the ideas you need to connect the dots and wrap up the case are all already in the file. whatever you told me this morning made sense so i trust that you’ll be able to finish up on your own.

i’ve already informed mrs jung of your possible stay for dinner, so stay if you work past 8pm.

if you live too far away and you’re uncomfortable with taking public transport home, you can stay over for the night if you need to as well. 

my staff and chauffeurs get off work at 6pm so i’m not going to ask them to send you home. 

you look up at the staff member, for the umpteenth time today, wondering: what the fuck?

you sigh to yourself as the staff member leaves you with all the work on the table. the obligation to finish whatever you could today washes over you as you realise what you were really here to do.

he never wanted to take credit for your work. instead, he was letting you take his. as you scan through all his notes and research, you realise that it was more than enough to help you close the case, even if you didn’t win it. 

there was no name on any of his research papers, compared to your worksheets that he made you write your name on every day. so if you were to compile all the information yourself, he was giving you the green light of finishing the case on your own.

you couldn’t help but to let the guilt grow inside you, as you realise that you had been so easily fooled by the way he treated you. though it made no sense that he was such a horrible boss on first sight, you come to terms with the fact that maybe he wasn’t that bad after all. 

LATER THAT EVENING

you jerk awake at one of those strange sensations of falling in your sleep, then it hits you. 

you fell asleep. 

your neck was aching, and you pull away from the table, the sheets of paper stuck to your arms as you shift yourself from the horrible sleeping position. the sky outside was darkening, leaving only red and orange streaks across the sky. you look down at your work, letting the satisfaction fill your lungs once you realised that you were done with the case. 

even if you lost, it was because the stupid company thought doing whatever it did was a good idea. 

but with your boss’ workings, you might actually have a shot at winning the case.

you struggle to your feet, noticing the lack of commotion around the house. you search for a clock somewhere, and it was already past 6.15pm, which meant all the house staff were gone. 

the house was so quiet, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he ever felt lonely living here on his own. 

such a big space, but for one person only. 

you remember the portraits outside the dining hall, so you don’t hesitate to stride over in your comfy cotton slippers, in your warm clothes provided by him to check out the portraits. 

you squint your eyes, the terrible lighting ridding you of any ability to actually see anything constructive out of the portraits. you didn’t want to turn on the lights because you didn’t want to get caught snooping around in his house, but the light flickers on anyway, and you raise your arm in a bid to shield your eyes from the sudden illumination.

“had a nice nap?” you look to your left where the living room area was, and he was changed out of his black fitting, now in a more comfortable blazer and cotton shirt and what looked like... joggers?

“thank you...” you quietly say, your hands fiddling with each other on your stomach. “for your workings and pointers.”

he tilts his head upwards a little at your display of gratitude, his eyes travelling from you to the portraits that he had caught you staring at just moments ago.

“you want to know why i wasn’t in office for the last six months since he handed me the law firm?”

you look up at his question, taken aback that he would even bring it up. 

“it’s because i didn’t want it. he gave it to me without telling me, but i was ready to run off a live a life for myself. i’ve already arranged for myself to go overseas and do charity work for the next year at the point of time he said he wanted to let go of the firm. i said, ‘no, you’ve worked so hard for it’. and the next day, he signs everything to me.”

you listen carefully, hearing an unfamiliar tone in his voice. he went from slightly spiteful, to sad, to obligatory, and you could tell just how mixed his emotions were. you turn to look at the portraits, and you now see that they were portraits of him and his family. 

“after he gave me the firm, i moved out here alone. i couldn’t stand the sight of him because he just went ahead and did something he knew i didn’t want to do. he knew i just wanted to do charity and work on that, not take over his law firm. in the end, i left and i was away in countries like cambodia, myanmar and other countries helping to build schools and hospitals.”

you return your attention to him, failing to notice that he was now only about a metre away from you. your hands hug your torso as you search his face for any more emotion than the one he had plastered on for the last few minutes. 

“so you spent six months away, doing charity work... and you came back because of obligation.”

your words seem to strike a chord in him, because he immediately looks away, almost like he realised he had been seen through. 

he sucks in a deep breath, running his hand through his now soft, un-waxed hair. 

“i’m sorry, for being such an ass when we first met,” he looks at you with the same movement as he always does: looking at your through the corners of his eyes. “i was just angry and frustrated at how things turned out, and now i’m stuck with this stupid law firm just ‘cause i said he worked so hard for it.”

you offer him a weak smile, reaching out carefully to pat him on the shoulder. it was awkward, but you could only hope it brought him comfort. 

what you don’t prepare yourself for was when he shifts forward, suddenly connecting his lips to yours. 

you shiver upon the contact, pulling away in surprise as your eyes scan his for any sign of remorse or regret. 

your heart was racing and you’ve got absolutely no clue why. 

was it the way his eyes were digging your soul out of your body? was it the way you felt so comfortable around him today, despite him being a mean shit to you the day you met him? 

but almost instinctively, you reach up and wrap your hands around the back of his neck to pull him in again, this time shutting your eyes as you tasted him. 

he shoves you against the wall, hand behind your head so you don’t injure yourself and he picks you up, using the wall as support to keep your legs wrapped around his waist. 

the kisses were sharp, harsh, hungry.

never in a million years were you expecting this. 

his fingers dig into your hips and trails them along your legs, pushing them inwards so they were securely wrapped around his waist as he walks the both of you to the living room. 

you wonder how he was able to gently lay you on the sofa despite your body weight clinging to his torso, but he does it anyway and every thought disappears from your head when he plants soft kisses on your neck. his hands were roaming your stomach and looking for your hips, holding them up as he set his pelvis between your thighs. 

you could feel his bulge growing under the material as he kissed and nibbled on the skin of your neck, careful not to leave any marks. 

“if you’re not okay with this, please tell me.” he whispers into your ear, stopping for a moment. 

“i’m fine. i’m just... surprised, that’s all.”

he pulls back and looks at you with eyes that you’d be afraid of two weeks ago, but now all they do is create more butterflies in your stomach. 

“i just... it’s been so long since someone’s seen through me like this. after sang yeon told me about you working till late... and that you look tired even at work but you never once fall asleep... it reminded me of me when i first became a lawyer.”

your heart shatters at his little speech, and your hand reaches up to brush his cheek. 

“watching you work reminded me of why i even became a lawyer. you... you’re my restart button, and you make me want to work again.”

a smile breaks out on your lips and tears threaten to collect in your eyes. the sincerity in his voice was what told you that this man was vulnerable after all. you offer him comfort by pulling his face down and kissing him, letting fate decide whatever should happen next...

you were jerked awake for the second time that evening, but this time you were in juyeon’s arms, skin against skin under the blanket that you don’t even remember seeing even while he fucked you mindlessly against his expensive couch. 

you let the sound process in your brain, when you realise your phone was going off in your suitcase. 

juyeon wakes up from his lazy slumber too, grabbing his bottoms and pulling them on carelessly while he heads for your suitcase. his eyes were still closed when he picks up the call, and you couldn’t help but admire his back muscles.

“hello? oh, yeah. no, she’s not kidnapped, she’s still with me. yeah... no... yes, it’s your boss...”

your eyes widen once you realise who was on the other end of the line. you wrap the blanket around yourself and surge forward to snatch the phone away from juyeon and you press the phone to your ear without thinking twice.

“chanhee...”

“okay... WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Part 3: Love Somebody

[eve-evil-lair]

Someone in the Garden - M Naga x F Human, NSFW, 2nd person perspective.

This was a request from my friend and my first go at original smut writing. It is also available on my ao3.

Inheriting a mansion in New Orleans was NOT what you expected to happen to you by the end of a very shitty year. Still, that happened. It was bizarre and you still expected it to be a scam. Either way, you had nothing to lose so there you were. The lawyer had opened the gate and after like two minutes drive you were in front of not exactly a mansion but a large house. It didn’t even look that old.

“The original mansion burned down about 10 years ago,” the lawyer explained. “The addition at that time was also an indoor, large swimming pool/lake.”

You nodded as you got out of the house. The land belonged to some of your distant family, so distant that you didn’t even know they existed until you got the letter. Clearly, No one else wanted it.

“The land has a natural spring that goes through the lake area to later join a river. You can get water that way. Generators provide electricity in case the lines get cut.” the lawyer kept talking as you walked inside the building and started to show you around the place. It didn’t look too bad. Dusty and might need airing and a fresh coat of paint here and there. Some of the previous potential owners left buckets of paint behind.

“So… why no one has claimed this place? Is it haunted?” You joked but secretly hoping it wasn’t.

“No one gave much of a reason aside from ‘changed mind’. Longest someone stayed here was a week,” the guy checked his papers. “I won’t lie, Miss, we have a bet going back at the firm on how long are you going to last here.”

“Oh, I hope you bet for me to stay here permanently, huh?” you grinned.

“I gave you two days,” he replied bluntly and your smile fell.

“Gee thanks.” you huffed. Now you were going to show this asshole that you can take care of yourself.

You toured the house and quite liked it. It was a two-story building with a kitchen, living room, two bathrooms and 3 bedrooms with built-in closets. Your only concern was - how were you going to earn money to keep all that. You could sell it, but not until you proved the stupid lawyer you could live there no problem.

“I will now show you the rest of the estate,” said the bastard lawyer and led you outside and right to the giant swimming pool/lake.

It was made of glass like a greenhouse. Inside were multiple tropical plants and it looked much better than the house. As if someone has been taking care of it. You asked about that.

“Well there is no one listed as a gardener,” the lawyer checked the papers again, “but the previous owner made a point of never getting rid of this building. It’s the only condition for you if you want to keep the estate.” he lifted an eyebrow at you.

“I’m not going to get rid of it but I am just wondering if someone is taking care of it.” You didn’t have any experience in gardening but if this place was empty for at least a year or so…, shouldn’t it be a bit overgrown?

“Hmmm, there were…” one more page flip and…., “ah yes, there is some sort of wild nature enthusiast who takes care of the greenhouse.” Success. “Unfortunately there’s no name.”

Well, that was a bummer. “Thanks, I’m sure I will run into this person once I settle in.”

With that, the tour continued. You got a good look at the premises and signed the papers that you were supposed to sign and got your bags into the house. The night you were going to spend in a sleeping bag until you’d air and wash all the sheets and refresh the mattresses. Hands full of work.

It’s been three days and one night of cleaning everything up until you saw the light in the greenhouse. And the shadow. It was one huge-ass shadow but then you thought it was just a trick of the light. It must have been that friendly, neighbourhood gardener. It was a strange hour to work - the clock showing close to midnight. You grabbed a flashlight and went to talk to the person. You planned to bake them a pie but you weren’t sure when they’d show up so you had that idea on stand by.

“Hello?” you walked into the greenhouse shining your path forward. It was still dim. You took another step forward and tripped. You yelped and fell on your shoulder and winced. Damn it, the flashlight rolled away and you had to find it before shining it at whatever you tripped over. A tree branch? No… It was huge. Thick. And definitely scaly. Like a snake. You recognized the markings. You always wanted a python and was interested in reptiles. This… this was an anaconda. A damn huge, horror movie sized anaconda. Getting to your knees you looked abruptly around for the head of the reptile. Why the fuck was there an anaconda in your greenhouse?! Why no one told you! Shit, shit, maybe the poor thing ran away from poachers or illegal breeder or fuck knows what circus. But it was way too large for you to deal with alone- oh fuck the tail moved. You decided to bolt. Ready to sprint to the door you swallowed hard and-

“Wait,” the voice stopped you. It was a very pleasant, deep, vibrant, male voice. The kind of ‘panty drop’ one on TV shows. Heck. You turned around and shone the light around. It finally landed on a stomach. A stomach that was way too high and was creamy yellow. Not a very human tone… The light travelled up to land on a board chest and then on a face that got quickly covered by a hand. “Please put that away.”

You clicked the flashlight off, mouth hanging agape, still in a big shock. “What the fuck,” you said softly. Then promptly fainted.

Waking up with a small headache you groaned holding your head. “Shit.” You groaned. Confused you looked around. It was still the greenhouse. What were you laying on? You looked down and swallowed. The massive coils of the anaconda. You looked up to see a concerned (or at least you hoped it was a concern) face of… snake dude. You knew there was a name for him but currently, you couldn’t care less for proper terms.

“Oh you’re awake!” he said relieved and grinned.

You felt cold sweat running down your back at the sight of his teeth.

“Yup,” you squeaked out. “I- Can I go down?”

He blinked. “Oh, of course, there ya go.” the coils unravelled under you creating a slide which got you to the floor. Immediately he headed to the huge lake in the middle. OK, so he was not going to eat you. That was nice. Suddenly you realised why no one lived in the house longer than a couple of days. He must have freaked everyone out.

“Um, ex-excuse me,” you called to him. “Who are you?”

“I’m Adam,” he said and sighed slipping into the water.

Adam. A humanoid mega python in your pool was named Adam. This day could not be even more bizarre than it already was. Okay. You licked your lips.

“Okay, Adam. Can you tell me what are you doing here?” you asked trying to sound polite.

“I live here,” he replied. You watched mesmerised as his tail swished over the water.

“Ye, I got that but… how did you come to live here?” you gestured to the greenhouse.

“Oh, that’s a funny story, really.” He brightened up seeing you were going to stay and listen to him. “I was much younger and you know… much smaller,” he looked over his body patting his soft belly a little. “I accidentally got stuck on a ship, it went up to the port, tried to escape from there, got caught in some nets and then Mr Brown found me.”

“Mr Brown. The previous owner?” you asked to clarify but who else could he mean.

“Yeah, his house burned down because of a storm. He was a really nice person, allowed me to stay, even tried to get me back home but…. I kind of like it here,” he smiled again, all sunshine and rainbows and you couldn’t help but to ‘aww’ a little. “I stayed and brought some good luck to him.”

“What?” you blinked a little.

“You don’t know? Naga are protectors of underground waters and possess great riches, I don’t have riches myself but I tend to bring a lot of luck to those I like,” he explained further. “You strike me as a nice person. What’s your name by the way?”

That moment you remembered you didn’t introduce yourself so you quickly fixed that. You stayed up with Adam the rest of the night, talking and answering some questions. You started to enjoy his company and noticed that he was very handsome once you look past the whole shock of having a possibly a 30 feet long anaconda dude in your greenhouse. Possibly even longer. You didn’t pay much attention. What you paid attention to were his deep voice and beautiful, warm, light brown eyes. Also muscular arms and torso. With a little bit of a belly. But you couldn’t stay with him forever and had to go back to the house and get some sleep. You bid your goodnights and went back inside.

The next day you worked a little on the house and in the evening went to meet with Adam. You two bonded a little over time, you caught him up with the times and he showed you how to take care of the plants inside the greenhouse. Like he said suddenly your luck started to improve. You got a really good job, following his advice you played a lottery and even won quite a bit. Enough to finish the work on the house. It was great.

There was one but. You realized somewhere along the way that you might be crushing on your Naga friend. Like really bad. Once or twice maybe even ended up having a (*coughamazingcough*), wet dreams. His hands were so huge on your shoulder and whenever it landed on your back you wished it was on your ass. You kind of also wondered if…. He resembled snakes in more ways than one. Though you hoped for no spikes. Or hooks. Anything that might be painful in the wrong way. That would be bad.

So, for now, you have been kind of keeping all of that to yourself. But damn was it becoming hard to keep your eyes, not on his waist level. In your defence, he had no clothes! And it was most of the time on your eye level! Where else were you supposed to look when horny!? His eyes?! …. Yeah possibly, yeah. Damn it.

“Are you okay?”

You almost jumped out of your skin when he got you out of your deep thoughts. You completely forgot where you were. Namely in the damn greenhouse. Oh, god. You couldn’t wait to just get out of there, drive to town and find a quick one nightstand. You were ready to go, having done all the prep for * all * possibilities. But nope, you got distracted by staring at your roommate’s? Housemates’s? Crotch. Nice.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just a bit spaced out.” You tried to justify yourself.

“So… you’re horny, huh?”

Holy fucking hell, you must have blurted that out. Why cannot the ground swallow a chick whole just this once???

“Uuuuuuuh, hehehehe, sorry.” You licked your lips.

Suddenly Adam moved around you, circling you with the upper parts of his tail, or at least the part not in water.

“That’s fine by me,” his voice… oh, boy his voice. It was already rich molasses but now it was just unfair how hot it was. He touched you under the chin and smiled. You swallowed hard. “Do you wish for my help there?”

“Mmhm, yup, yes please,” you blurted out making him chuckle.

“Alright then. Off must go these clothes,” he said and before you could say anything riiiiiip went your shirt. Damn. He sure made his point. Quickly before he could destroy your good bra and skirt/panties you took them off. He watched you. His tongue darting forward, it was cute. You wondered what that tongue could do.

Whatever you have imagined got interrupted by a hungry, rough kiss and a hand between your legs. God, that felt good. You were already dripping of which he made a notice by lifting his fingers back up to his mouth and wrapping his long tongue around his digits and having a taste of you and looking too smug in your opinion. Your face was positively on fire but who would complain in this situation?

“Just hurry up,” you tried not to sound too whiny and he chuckled.

“Impatient, you are,” Adam hummed and wrapped his mouth around your nipple. His hand travelling back between your legs.

Your hands went to his head stroking him and grazing his skull with your fingers. He seemed to know more than less what he was doing over there. His lips were keeping a nice, a bit rough pressure, and his finger was stroking you so well~. If he just moved his calloused, thick forefinger just a bit to the- You jerked and bit your lower lip to stop a loud moan from pretty much erupting from your throat. Looking down you saw him with a grin and he did it again.

Your nails dug into the back of his skull as he stroked your clit in just the right spot.

“Fffffuck!” you whined and gripped your other hand on his coils looking for support. “Oh, fuck! F-faster! God!” you hissed and he gladly obliged.

The first orgasm crashed through you with a tsunami of relief from weeks of frustration. Turning into a noodle in his arms your you sighed and breathed heavily, trying to regain some sort of sense of composure. But God did it feel so good to just lay there for a moment.

“Where-, how-” you panted out, cracking your eyes open not even remembering when you have closed them.

“I read a lot, you have no idea what you humans throw out to the swamp,” he chuckled. “Was it… Good?” he asked just in case.

“It was fucking awesome.” you gave him a thumbs up calming your breathing down. “Got any more tricks you read about?” You licked your lips in anticipation.

“I do,” he picked you up and removed the top coil, allowing himself more manoeuvrability before setting you back down. “Keep your legs open,” he instructed before his head went between your knees and you had to stop yourself from crushing his head.

Wow, that tongue felt * amazing*. Adam swirled it in gently circles, that little fork at the end of it just rubbing your clit and when he slipped inside… Oh, wow . You gasped and reached behind your head to grab onto his tail. Pulling yourself up and arching back. But he didn’t let you get away oh no. He took his time, finding all the angles to make you moan and cry out. The thrusts going from soft to quick. One finger pressed to your clit to compensate for lack of nose as he pressed on. He reached to your breast with the other hand and stroked you. You whined and twisted your body. Good lord. You should have done this ages ago!

The pinch to your nipple and a hard suck on your clit had tipped you over, crying out in your release. When you stopped shaking he removed your legs from his head and licked your thighs. You whined and twitched.

“Noo,” you sighed over stimulated.

He then stroked your face leaning back and that was when you saw them. Two. Magnificent. Dicks. Long, thick, swaying with his movement. Each head looked almost like a flower with a collar of soft-looking nubs. Barbs? You were unsure about the terminology. Anyway, they glistened. Must have been covered in his own lubricant. They were dripping. Your mouth watered and eyes grew big. Oooooh~

Adam noticed your stare and coughed. “Well, um-” he sounded a bit sheepish.

“Can you use them both? At the same time?” You asked managing to sit up.

“Y-yes? Why?” he immediately helped you out, supporting you as you crawled and touched one of the cocks. He shivered a little as you ran a hand over them. Sticky, the liquid covered your fingers and started to dry, much like lube or your juice would. It didn’t smell half bad either. You licked it and heard him swallow loud.

It was your turn to grin like the cat who got the canary. Wobbly standing up, you pressed onto his chest.

“I want to try something,” you said. Something that you had only ever tried with toys. Once with one of your exes. You were quite sure you could take him. Blessed be your earlier precautions

“Okay,” Adam said slowly, watching you as you sank on the first dick. Inhaling loudly and sharply in you adjusted.

“Oh, yes,” you breathed out and reached back to the other dick. You rubbed your hand over the head, getting used to the barbs as you bounced in his lap. He shuddered and moaned stroking your back. You did not want to end this too fast for either of you so you slipped off of him. “Adam, would you mind to stretch me a bit, here?” you stretched your ass cheeks apart to better make your point. “I want both of them at the same time~,” you told him. “I also want you to use your tail on me, while you do that.”

“No problem,” he nodded looking quite excited at the idea.

Wetting his fingers first he slid first one finger over your ass cheeks and between them. Rubbing the circle of muscles he slipped inside. You moaned and breathed deeply, relaxing. His tail went up to your front, pushing inside you, impaling you repeatedly. Feeling your ass loosening up he added another finger and stretched your ass further and further until you both were sure you could take him in. His other hand gently fondled your chest and you reached down to toy with your clit. Soon, your third orgasm was coming in. You went rigid and spilt yourself, gasping for air once more.

“O-okay,” you said trying to steady yourself up. “Let’s… let’s try his thing.”

Now, here comes the moment of truth! His tail slipped out of you and got replaced with one of his dicks. You angled a little and Adam pushed the second cock into your spread out asshole. Your eyes watered a little. That was full! You gasped and gritted your teeth, the moan already escaping you. Throwing your head back you search for him.

Adam held you against his chest. “You okay?” It must have been a lot for him too. He was holding your legs wide open. It probably would never not be a turn on - the ease in which he could just keep you in his hands.  

“Never better, just getting used to you,” you reached up and patted his cheek. Your vision was in that kinda lusty state where it wasn’t exactly fuzzy but your eyes couldn’t focus on anything.

The barbs were pressing on inside you, the shape of his dicks was an unusual one but thickness and texture were making up for it so well~. You squeezed your walls around him and he hissed. His hips pushed forward and you groaned pleased. Yess, that was so good.

You pressed your back to his chest, one hand on your boob. “Fuck me,” you told him, voice hoarse.

His throat moved as he swallowed. He nodded and started to move you on him. Your body shivered, your mouth fell open. Those dicks barely fit whole inside you, your stomach having a small bulge every time he thrust inside. The barbs rubbed your insides, pressing onto that sweet spot. The added feeling and tightness from his other dick was making you dizzy. You panted and moaned, trying to move as much as you could. The feeling swelled and grew until you couldn’t hold back any longer, screaming out. Your hips jerked rather erratically and you dug your nails into his scales, finding gaps and holding tightly. His own body convulsed under you and he hissed your name, dicks spilling into you as you heaved against his chest. A final thrust which elicited a whimper of his name from you, and he was done, movements slowing as you both struggled to catch your breath.

After a moment he laid down on the ground, the two cocks slipping out of you and with it came the cum, slowly dripping down your leg. But who cared at that moment? You whimpered and nuzzled his chest.

“My legs feel funny,” you giggled stupidly and hummed pleased. He also made an amused noise and nuzzled your head.

You looked at him. He was getting ready to sleep now. Ah, some things never change among the species, huh? You stretched yourself and kissed him. That made him wake up a little and look at you softly. Pulling you up in his arms he kissed you again and coiled around you.

“Sleep?” he mumbled.

“I need to clean up,” you replied patting his face.

“But come back and sleep, yes?” That made you feel so warm and fuzzy. Maybe this was going to be a bit more than just a one-time thing?

“Sure,” you wiggled out of his arms and waddled to the lake, washing away the remains of your mixed fluids. Then as promised you came back. “Goodnight, Adam.” You said softly.

“G’d night.” he said and soon you both were fast asleep.

[wtfbokuto]

could you do some more of naruhina headcanons pleaseeee

Sure!

Also thank you for sending this ask. You are my first ask and you gave me so much motivation to write something. I know I am late but I hope you like this :)

Pairing: Naruto X Hinata; Naruhina

Warnings: a lil bit of kisses

Headcanon turned into a scenario or a whole ass fic :)

I hope you are okay with a soulmate au!

——————————————

Sunflower ( Naruhina Soulmate! AU)

Everybody has soulmate marks, for a while Naruto thought he didn't had one until he saw a sunflower on his palm.

Apparently his mark is that, that he and his soulmate can draw on their skin and the same will appear on his soulmates skin.

Young Naruto was so excited to know that he has someone in life. Being an orphan, he felt his whole life shrouded in darkness but the existence of his soulmate being out there for him was like ray of sunshine in the darkness.

So you can say that he cherished his soulmate and could not wait to meet them.

Meanwhile Hinata was so happy about having a soulmate that she started to take drawing classes.

And that's how 5 year old Hinata and Naruto were always busy drawing on their hands. Their hands would be completely filled with scribbles, drawings of sunflower, a rocket etc.

Hinata knows his name, he wrote it for her. Naruto only knows that his soulmate is a girl, she was too shy to reveal her name.

School came around. And imagine the shock that Hinata had when she knew that her soulmate is in her class.

But the baby is too scared to meet him, so she always hides from him and admire him secretly.

Wears clothes that can cover her arms and legs so that she doesn't accidentally reveal the soulmate's drawing/writing.

Fast forward 10 year and many of she friends have found their soulmate. Meanwhile Hinata is struggling to tell Naruto. And Naruto is still patiently waiting to meet his soulmate. They communicate to each other almost daily.

Only Neji and Hanabi knows that they both are soulmates.

During these 10 years Hinata and Naruto have become each others friends. Hinata has opened a lot to Naruto and Naruto enjoy her pleasant presence. Hinata doesn't talk that much but her presence always soothes Naruto. And she is a good listener. Naruto could talk to Hinata for hours.

But this bothers Naruto, because he knows that he is surely falling for Hinata. The way she blushes around him, the way she listens to him, her eyes, everything about her draws him.

But he knows that this is wrong. He has a soulmate waiting for him. He loves his soulmate. She was there when no one was. She comforted during his time of darkness. She knows everything about him. She is his pillar of support.

He could see how easy it would be to fall into loving Hinata. It would be exactly like falling: effortless. Not letting himself love her was the opposite of falling—it was pulling himself up a cliff-face, hand over hand, trying to not fall for her.

So he distance himself.

He could feel Hinata's sadness as he slowly started to ignore her. It was eating him up. He hated himself.

Meanwhile he was not the only one who was feeling blue. His soulmate was also not communicating this time. He asked if something was wrong but she replied it's nothing, so he brushed it off wallowing in his sadness.

It has been 3 weeks since he started to ignore Hinata.

Today is his maths test but he did not study because he was too busy wallowing in his sadness.

Teacher Tsunade was strict regarding cheating on her test. But Naruto took a chance and quickly scribbled some formulas on his palm, hoping that his soulmate wouldn't mind.

The test began and only the sound of writing on the paper could be heard. Tsunade was making her round, when she saw Hinata's palm.

"Hinata what's this!?" Hinata was scared stiff, she didn't knew that Naruto would try to cheat on this test. She was so busy revising that she forgot to check her hands.

"Mam, I didn't do this..my soulm—" "Hinata I did not expect this from you. You are one of my most responsible students. I'm deeply disappointed in you. Give me your paper. Detention for you."

Hinata wants to cry. She is embarrassed and a little humiliated.

Meanwhile Neji is giving Naruto the i-am-going-to-kill-you look. The whole class is shocked because they know Hinata would never do something like that.

"Everybody. Hands out. I am going to check each and everyone's hands."

Naruto is sweating bullets. He is definitely going to die.

"Naruto detention to you too. Both of you give me your papers and go to the detention hall."

They both go silently(awkward) to the detention room.

They both are the only ones in the detection room.

They both stand around near the wall, shuffling their feets, not willing to make eye contact with each other.

Finally, Naruto could not handle the awkward, stifling silence so he tries to break the silence.

Hinata is standing near the walls in silence, tears in her eyes, angry at Naruto.

"Wow..um Hinata I did not knew that you also cheated."

Silence.

"Uh..so what have you written. I just copied some formulas. Look here." He shows her his palm.

"Umm.. show me yours. Please. Please" Naruto grabs her hand, desperate to see her palm.

"Wait no Naruto-kun, wait." Hinata tries to clench her hand or pull her hand back but Naruto had already opened her hand.

"Wait, I wrote these formulas too. Hmm, they exactly look like mine."

"No they do not.

"No it does. This is exactly the same."

"Yes they look like that, because you only wrote them Naruto-kun. Instead why did you have to cheat?!" Hinata snapped.

"Wait what." Naruto brings his palm near hers. He checks them both side to side. They are exactly the same. The realization dawns on him. " You are my soulmate. Hinata you are my soulmate."

The cat's out of the box. Sighing, scared stiff Hinata confirm Naruto's statement.

"Yes, yes Naruto's kun. I'm your soulmate."

Happiness, confusion, a little bit of hurt and anger was all Naruto was feeling. He was happy that the girl he loved was his soulmate. Confused as to why she was hiding this. Anger as to she kept this for 10 years. Hurt as to she might not even love him.

"Why didn't you told me?? Wasn't I good for you? Why did you kept it hiding for 10 years??" Naruto was shouting now.

Each question pierced Hinata's heart. Tears were starting to gather in her eyes again. She didn't mean to hurt her soulmate. " No Naruto. It is not like that. I was scared..I was scared."

"It's not like that!!? You were scared? I was waiting for my soulmate all this time. All this time I was talking to you."

"Do you even like me?" Naruto whisper, his heart hurt.

"Of course, Naruto-kun. I love you. I have loved you all these years. It's only you."

That's all it took. Soon as he heard these words out of her mouth, he smashed his lips to her. Trapping her between him and the wall he kissed her passionately. His hands found her waist as he slanted his mouth and pulled her closer. She arched into him, tilting her head before tracing his jaw with her fingers. His tongue swept across her lower lip and she opened her mouth, sliding her hand in his hair as he kissed her harder.

A soft sound escaped her before she pulled back panting softly as her forehead rested against his. Naruto panted a little, as he trailed kisses from her jaw to her ear.

"Hinata.." he whispered, kissing her earlobe. "Hinata...I love you too. You cannot believe how happy I am."

He pulled back panting, gazing at her flushed cheeks, swollen red lips.

"Hinata I love you. I was confused. Because on one side I love my soulmate, but on the other I was starting to fall for you. I believe that it was unfair to both of you so I started to distance myself from you." He said stroking her cheeks," but I was sad. I was sad because I loved you and didn't wanted to let you go. I am happy that you are my soulmate because I cannot see myself without you."

Hinata heart sped up a pace, as she closed the little distance between them. "Naruto I am sorry for keeping this to myself. I loved you since I saw you. I am sorry for doing this to you. Please forgive me."

"I have already forgive. Just promise me you won't leave me." Naruto leaned towards Hinata, bending his head closer to her. He held back just millimetres away, just close enough that his lips brushed hers.

Hinata felt her breath hitch. Forcing her eyes to look away from his lips, she looked above, searching for his eyes. The eyes that she fell in love with. Looking up into his eyes, she promised, "I won't." She closed the gap between them, kissing him sweetly, asking for forgiveness, promising her love and trust.

"I love you"

——————————————————

A/N: That's it. I hope you all liked it. I just adore soulmate au, call me hopeless romantic but I just love this trope so much??

(And yes, I used midnight sun's line about falling for Hinata.)

I always try to keep it short but it always turns so big, maybe I should just write a fic. These 2 to 3 headcanons are my time writing. I just hope my pacing and the way I write isn't atrocious. I am working on getting better and to develop a writing style. I know rn my writing style is very inconsistent, I just hope my ideas got across my reader.

I am still working on the asks you guys sent me for Haikyuu, I have got the drafts ready. I will probably post it tomorrow.

Also if you have any asks, please do so. Requests are open. I can do both sfw and nsfw. I will probably post the list of rules. You could check that out^-^

Here is my masterlist.

Thank you each and everyone who read this^^ I hope you all have have a nice day💜

[stephissalty]

the chances are getting lower

Pairing: Iwaoi

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Words: 1700

Summary: "And although there’s the 80% - wait, maybe 70% - chance that Oikawa probably doesn’t like him back, Iwaizumi can’t stop himself from thinking how pretty he looks like this. He briefly wonders if you could consider this a date. He also thinks that the chance Oikawa doesn’t like him back might be closer to 60%."

AO3

the chances are getting lower

It’s summer when Iwaizumi has a life-shattering realization. Honestly, it really shouldn’t shock him that much. Maybe he’s just dense - that’s probably it.

He likes Oikawa.

He really likes Oikawa.

This realization doesn’t scare Iwaizumi as much as it had ought to, but he files it away as something to deal with later. Iwaizumi is about 80% sure his best friend doesn’t feel the same way, but when he’s being dragged through crowded festival grounds by said best friend isn’t the time to be debating the state of his world.

Oikawa has a tight grip on the sleeve of Iwaizumi’s hoodie and is in the process of tugging him along. He hasn’t said anything about their destination, but Iwaizumi knows better than to ask. So, without questioning, he follows his friend through crowds of people. They pass a row of games they’d played an hour or so ago (Iwaizumi had won a small alien plush for Oikawa and Oikawa won a cat plush for him), and then go through the line of food trucks, where the population density is highest.

Finally, they break out of the crowd. Oikawa turns around, his eyes shining as they reflect neon lights from all around them. “The fireworks are going to start in a few minutes, Iwa-chan!” And then he pulls Iwaizumi past further from the festival, to an open field. Several couples and friend groups had already settled in the grass. 

They find a spot away from other people and sit in the grass. Iwaizumi stretches out his legs and leans his weight back on his palms. He briefly considers that, if his theory is correct, it’s like an invitation. It’s an invitation that Oikawa gladly takes. He rests his head on Iwaizumi’s thighs, laying perpendicular to him. Their eyes meet, and Oikawa’s eyes are bright as the expression on his face seems to ask is this okay?

It’s very okay.

And although there’s the 80% - wait, maybe 70% - chance that Oikawa probably doesn’t like him back, Iwaizumi can’t stop himself from thinking how pretty he looks like this. Pink and green lights from the festival behind them cast over his face, showing his light sprinkling of freckles on his cheeks. His hair, although beautiful, is subject to gravity, and thus has fallen away from his face and is spread across one of Iwaizumi’s thighs. God, he’s beautiful.

Not wanting to think about any consequences, Iwaizumi smiles and gently cards one of his hands through Oikawa’s hair. The other relaxes against him and closes his eyes, content. 

They both startle when the first firework explodes in the sky.

Oikawa watches the show in amazement, but Iwaizumi watches Oikawa the whole time, just to see the joy on his face.

He briefly wonders if you could consider this a date.

He also thinks that the chance Oikawa doesn’t like him back might be closer to 60%.

Iwaizumi isn’t one to deny himself pleasures, as a general statement.

If he wants to eat, he’s going to eat. If he wants to watch a movie, he’s going to watch a movie. If he wants to look at a pretty boy, he’s going to look at a pretty boy.

The pretty boy looks back at him.

During practice, they’re playing a practice match, and somehow Iwaizumi ended up on a different team than Oikawa. Oikawa’s team is winning - but just by a little. They’ve been making eye contact the whole time, like you’d expect best friends to. But Iwaizumi rakes his eyes up and down his friend’s body, subtlety be damned,  and he looks the same way he always looks when he’s playing volleyball - fucking incredible. Iwaizumi vaguely registers that Oikawa’s up to serve, but his head is far from the game as he watches Oikawa’s hands twirl the ball. Those hands. Iwaizumi’s knees feel weak when he realizes how long he’s been staring, but he’s too far gone now, it’s too late for him, he’s already passed the point of no return -

And then there’s a hard impact to his jaw, and he’s staggering backward, and suddenly he’s on the ground. There’s some dull pain - in his face, on the back of his head, on his ass - but he’s definitely felt worse.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa shouts as he ducks under the net and slides to a stop on his knees next to Iwaizumi. His eyes are filled with concern as he leans over Iwaizumi and cradles his jaw gently. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I -”

“Tooru, I’m fine,” he responds, voice hoarse. For a second he forgets their teammates are surrounding them, so he covers Oikawa’s hand with his own and smiles weakly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Damn, that serve hurt. 

“Oikawa, take him to the nurse to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion,” the coach yells.

Cliche? Trivago.

Oikawa’s arm around his waist and supporting a good portion of his weight, they make their way to the nurse’s office. “Iwa-chan, what happened? You’ve never just taken a serve to the face like that before.”

Iwaizumi stiffens. “I was distracted.” It’s not a lie.

“Be careful, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa orders, but his voice is soft with genuine concern.

“If I get knocked out, no one else will keep you in line. I’m not going anywhere.”

He misses the look that Oikawa gives him, full of adoration.

The percentage might be closer to 50%.

Oikawa is laying on Iwaizumi’s bed, calculus homework spread around him, and Iwaizumi’s eyes are glazing over from where he’s been staring at an essay at his desk for the last hour.

Iwaizumi picks up the stapled stack of papers - twelve pages long, double sided!!! - and pitches them across the room and groans in frustration. “I’m tired of this bullshit!”

“Aww, is Iwa-chan tired of literature analysis?” Oikawa teases, resting his head on his arms. 

“Yes,” he growls and goes to pick up the now-wrinkled papers. “I understand math, but this literature bullshit is driving me up the fucking wall.”

Oikawa pouts. “You want to do my calculus homework for me? If I see another integral, my brain may melt, and the team can’t stand to lose me.”

Iwaizumi regards one of Oikawa’s worksheets. “This really isn’t that bad. My class covered this last month. It’s just u-substitution to make your life easier. U-sub is your friend.”

“Look, you can say that all you want, but that doesn’t make the words make any more sense,” Oikawa complains. “This squiggle shit -”

“Integral.”

“- squiggle shit is bad enough, but now they’re throwing in inverse trig? My brain wasn’t built for math, Iwa-chan! It was built for volleyball!”

“I’ll do your calculus if you’ll do my literature.”

“Fucking deal.”

After trading homework, they finished their respective assignments in about twenty minutes, after which, they both laid down on Iwaizumi’s bed, Oikawa’s head on Iwaizumi’s stomach. 

“Thanks, Iwa-chan.”

“Thanks, Tooru.” He lightly runs his fingers through Oikawa’s soft hair as the other relaxes and purrs quietly under the touch. “Are you spending the night tonight?” It’s a Thursday night, but that’s never mattered to them.

“Sure, but I’m not moving,” Oikawa announces and grips onto Iwaizumi’s hand that’s laying by his side.

“...Alright.” Iwaizumi pauses his ministrations. “Do you want to watch a show before bed, though?”

“Ooh, can we watch that American cooking show?”

“Yeah, we can,” he laughs.

After a few minutes of shifting, they end up shoulder to shoulder with Iwaizumi’s laptop balancing on both of their legs. Oikawa drops his head onto Iwaizumi’s shoulder and grips his bicep. Then, he carefully entwines their fingers and squeezes gently.

Iwaizumi, heart pounding, looks down at his friend in surprise. He doesn’t know what to do from here, so he just goes along with it and sinks into Oikawa as he watches the terrible American show that Oikawa has taken a liking to. 

He’s thinking that the percentage might not be 50%, but maybe closer to 30% when Oikawa pulls their conjoined hands up to his own mouth and kisses them.

Iwaizumi’s fairly certain that, in that moment, his heart stopped. “Tooru?” he whispers, not wanting to break the magical moment, but too scared to let it go unrecognized.

“Iwa-chan?”

20%.

“What are you doing?” The contestant on screen is crying over ruining his potatoes.

“Do you not know?”

10%.

“Know what?”

Oikawa lifts his head and focuses all of his attention on Iwaizumi. “I like you a lot. I think you probably feel the same, don’t you, Hajime?” Inhale. Exhale. “I really hope you do, anyways, or else this is going to get weird,” he laughs nervously.”

Iwaizumi smiles softly. “Of course I like you too. How could I not?”

“That’s exactly what I was figuring,” Oikawa says cheekily. “Can I kiss you?”

In lieu of a proper response, Iwaizumi brushes their lips together, gently at first and then more firmly. Oikawa responds immediately, kissing back with fervor and dragging a hand into Iwaizumi’s hair. 

Iwaizumi pulls back suddenly. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while.”

Oikawa reclaims his lips in a searing open-mouthed kiss that has his entire body writhing and wanting more, more, more. Iwaizumi moans quietly into his mouth and nips gently at Oikawa’s lower lip, drawing a beautiful, breathy moan out of the other. 

The laptop on Iwaizumi’s lap is long forgotten as Oikawa climbs into his lap and presses their bodies closer together. Everything is so hot as they pant into each others’ mouths. Oikawa works his way down Iwaizumi’s neck, kissing firmly but careful not to leave any marks. Iwaizumi inhales sharply and presses his hips upward, seeking some friction. 

“Fuck,” he swears as their hips collide. The indirect contact alone feels so, so good. He tugs on Oikawa’s hair mostly out of desperation, bringing him back up to his mouth. He connects them in another hot kiss as Oikawa grinds down.

And then, suddenly Oikawa disconnects their lips. “We should slow down just a bit, alright? I… I don’t want to be too hasty with you. You’re too important.”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi responds and kisses him chastely. “Anything for you.”

Oikawa grins and snuggles into Iwaizumi’s chest. “I like you a lot, Iwa-chan.”

“I’m pretty damn fond of you, too, Tooru.” He kisses his hair.

“Good. Don’t let me go.”

“Not a chance.”

0%. 

[chonkychornes]

Open Arms Part 5

Synopsis: You come back broken from a mission, and the one person who could barely put himself back together is one trying to help you.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Language. Angst. And here’s the smut I’ve been promising. 5 of ? My first reader insert fic, so please be kind, and if you like it, please reblog it? 

Also, this is really for @quant-um-fizzx​ I couldn’t/wouldn’t have done any of this without her help or guidance.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Movie night has very few rules; anyone and everyone in the compound was invited. Admission was a contribution towards food, either chip in for takeout or bring something to share. 

That had been eye-opening.

Natasha is especially adept at dips; and not just salsa or ripping open a packet of onion soup powder and dumping it into a tub of sour cream. This girl will customize guacamole to your spice and chunk preference.

She’ll make vats of spinach and artichoke dip without breaking a sweat. And her BLT dip? You don’t want to know what is in it, because you’re certain that it would require an extra two hours in the gym and turning down the personal batch she’ll make just for you to horde in your fridge. 

Then there’s Steve and Barnes: The witless wonders in the kitchen. Although Steve can make a mean soup and he knows just how essential a crockpot is. And Barnes is getting better since he’s instituted dinners with you, where you’ve been teaching him how to cook. 

Sam insists that the only thing he can properly make is breakfast and a Thanksgiving turkey, so basically you’re just counting down the days for him to show up or shut up. 

Banner is the complete dark horse. You like baking; it’s relaxing and you get to make pretty and delicious things. You just don’t have the patience for the fancy stuff. 

Bruce does. 

He makes macarons, pavlovas, and pies with the most intricate and decorative crusts you’ve ever seen outside of a bakery. Two weeks ago he made chocolate souffle and you got so excited that you jumped into his arms and squeezed him tightly. 

The final rule of movie night is that if someone picks the first movie in a franchise, you have to watch all the movies before moving on to something else. Apparently, according to Tony Stark, if you pick The Hobbit … you’re not only watching those three movies, but also The Lord of the Rings trilogy ‘because they’re all set in the same universe and this is my place’.

Tonight marks the halfway point through a franchise and you thank your lucky stars that this one only has five movies in it. You like this franchise, but frankly, Johnny Depp is getting a little old to play a rummed up pirate with a questionable moral compass.

After leaving Natasha in the gym and taking a quick shower you spend the rest of your afternoon making cupcakes. Five dozen to be exact. The clean up took longer than you’d planned, but you still managed to do all the things to yourself. After loading them all up in the massive cupcakes carriers and then into a large box, you exit your quarters only to be met with Barnes. 

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks when his eyes go wide when he sees the load you’re trying to maneuver and he reaches out to take it from you. “I could’ve managed, but thanks.” 

He gives you a wry smile and glances into the box, “You made cupcakes? What kind are they?” 

Before you can answer him though, he’s put the box down, ripped the lid off the top carrier, grabbed a treat and somehow managed to take the baking paper off and shove the whole thing in his mouth in less than 10 seconds. 

You smirk because he’s going to get a toothache or maybe he’ll choke, but it’s also sort of cute. 

He could still choke though. 

“They’re salted caramel with vanilla buttercream swirled with a caramel drizzle and then topped with sea salt.” You look at him as he groans and you can feel it straight into your bones and various other places. He finally swallows and reaches for another when you reach out to stop him. 

“I made 60, so there’s plenty,” you say, and he has the good grace to look slightly ashamed.” You also have a little buttercream right-” You reach out with your thumb and wipe at the corner of his mouth. Instinctively, his tongue darts to the spot and for whatever reason - only you and your vagina understand - you put your thumb into your mouth. 

His eyes darken and you both stand there for a solid minute staring at the other, daring each other to make a move. When he steps over the box at your feet, your heart jumps. His hands find your hips and he grips you gently and pushes you against your door. You can feel the cool metal of his left hand versus the heat radiating from his right. 

“Tell me to stop,” James whispers, begging you, but you can’t form the words that are caught in your throat. He skims his nose along the column of your neck and up to your ear. He nibbles softly and you melt against him. He thrusts one of his knees between your thighs to help support you and runs his hands up and down your ribcage. 

As you whine softly and grind on his leg he mutters into your ear, “Dracu-ma (fuck me).”

You’ve heard him speak Romanian before. He mutters in the gym while lifting weights. When a glass slipped from his hands just last week when he was doing your dishes. You’re almost certain you heard him mumble disjointed sentences when you both dozed under that maple.

This is different.

And that’s when the world comes crashing down around you. 

If you were going to go down this path with him, it won’t start out in the hallway. 

It won’t be when you can’t even figure out what name you want to call him and just realized you had real-time feelings for him. 

It won’t be when you aren’t sure how to tell him you want him you lo- 

It won’t.

It’ won’t. 

You won’t.

Your body stiffens and he immediately drops his hands, “Did I read this wrong?” His striking blue eyes search yours and you see the concern, tinged with a little fear clouded over into resignation. “I get it,” he says and takes a deliberate step back, remembering to step over the box of cupcakes. 

“James, no.” You dig the heels of your hands into your eyes and contemplate screaming for an hour to release the frustration you’re feeling. “You didn’t read this wrong.” His eyes sharpen on you. “I just … I’m not sure how to tell you what I’m feeling.”

You find yourself in the same situation you were in mere moments before; you’re both staring at each other until he finally speaks. 

“Well, I hope you’re feeling up to movie night,” he says, and bends over to pick up the box and sends you a wink and smile when he straightens. “Steve says the TV is out in the media room and it’s just the three of us tonight, so we’ll see you at our place in a bit.”

He walks away and you slide down the door into a heap on the floor and just sit there for a solid ten minutes before you pull out your phone and send off a text to Steve to make sure he’s still in for his part of the plan (and to talk you down off the ledge you’ve built for yourself.) 

When you let yourself into Steve and James’ quarters thirty minutes later, the scene you find would be comical if you hadn’t had a part in orchestrating it.

Steve is sitting in his favorite cushy armchair with a look of despair and tiredness etched across his features. 

“Boys,” you acknowledge as you enter and notice that at least one of the cupcake carriers has been relieved of at least a dozen treats. 

“Hey, sweets.” James isn’t looking at you and you raise an eyebrow at his slightly dismissive tone and a new spin on a nickname. “Have you seen my copy of ‘At World’s End’?” 

You now realize why he’s on the floor and every movie that belongs to the two men is strewn about.

“I have no idea. How could you have lost it?” You lean against the arm of the couch and watch the show as James scoots around on his hands and knees searching. When you glance over at Steve he rolls his eyes and then stares pointedly at you. 

You clear your throat, “So, who ate all those cupcakes?” James freezes in his tracks, sits up on his haunches, and turns to look at you over his shoulder. 

“I only had that one.” He smirks just enough and then points a finger at Steve who is prepared and has a sheepish look on his face. 

“I can’t resist salted caramel!” He’s protesting and James is laughing at him. You eye him to tell him to take it down a notch or two. “If it makes you feel any better, my stomach is killing me now.” He groans lightly and sinks further into the chair. 

Perfect. 

“Poor baby, can’t handle his sweets.” You wink at him and he flips you off when James goes back to searching. “Hey, Bucky,” you say, and his head swivels slowly around to look at you. “I’ve got the box set. Come over and we’ll order food and leave this child to suffer the consequences of his choices.”

You grab some cupcakes and saunter out, knowing full well that he’ll follow you. 

You offered him movie night and food. 

You called him Bucky. 

And you have some unfinished business. 

Precisely six minutes later, after you somehow manage to put the DVD in and cue it up and light a fat jar candle you have on your coffee table, you’re still waiting for the Tin Man to appear. You assume it’s taking him so long because Steve made him clean up the mess he made, but you suspect that there are just piles of DVDs stacked haphazardly around the living room down the hall. 

When he finally knocks, you call out to tell him the door is open and your voice catches a little in your throat. You walk out of your kitchen as he walks in, holding up two take-out menus. 

“Your choice, I’m fine with whatever.” You don’t mean for the phrase to come out sounding like some double entendre, but it does a little bit. 

He plucks them both out of your hands and considers them seriously for a few moments. “This one,” he hands a menu back to you and walks you back into the kitchen until you hit the island with your ass and he cages you with his arms. “I’ll take two orders of the assorted dim sum, the house special lo mein, and do you like wonton soup, doll?”

You swallow hard. 

There is no way this should feel like foreplay, but it does. 

“I love it. Do you like salt and pepper wings?” he says, nodding, and you reach into your back pocket for your phone. “Then I’ll call it in.” 

When you bring the device to your ear, he backs away and wanders around your quarters.

After quietly finishing the order and telling the restaurant the instructions for when they arrive, you hang up and stare at him. The broad expanse of his back is hunched over as he’s crouched down and looking at some photographs on one of the lower bookshelves. 

He’s been in here, but you usually push him right out the door as quickly as possible after he’s washed the dishes after one of your dinners. 

He never lingers over coffee and conversation.  So, this is the first time he’s investigating your space. You’re not sure you like. 

“My family,” you say softly and he looks over his shoulder at you. “My parents and my older brother died when I was seventeen and my younger sister was only nine.” 

He fingers the edge of the frame before standing but doesn’t say anything. He’s looking at your diploma from Columbia and the few other photos you have when you see him still and his gaze land on a photo of you and Steve. 

You suddenly think that all of this, whatever it is, is a terrible idea. Granted, whatever was between you and Steve is in the past, but that doesn’t mean everyone sees it that way. 

“You look really happy here.” His voice is soft and gentle. You know what picture it is, but have the wherewithal to walk over and look at it with him. 

You were at one of Stark’s galas. It was black tie and the two of you had gone together because it seemed easiest. Both you and Steve were bored quickly, so you made up a drinking game where you took a shot every time a woman (or man) hit on Steve in front of you.

Steve did the same for all the men that hit on you but seeing as he couldn’t get drunk, you turned yourself into a shit show rather quickly. The resulting picture is somewhere between shot numbers seven and ten. 

“I was happy. I was also incredibly drunk, but we had fun that night.” You laugh lightly to yourself, “I tried to convince him to let me throw his shield.” 

“Did he?” He looks into your eyes and smiles, “Because I don’t think you could throw it stone-cold sober.” 

“He didn’t and I can’t.” You shrug and walk towards the couch. “C’mon, let’s start this before the food gets here.”

You press play on the DVD menu and the familiar refrain begins as you side-eye James to see what he’s doing. 

The couch isn’t a loveseat but it isn’t a sprawling sectional either. It’s three-seater and you’ve both made some unspoken agreement that the middle cushion is no man’s land. In fact, you’re pretty sure you haven’t sat this far away from someone while watching a movie on a couch since high school. 

Forty minutes into the movie, the food arrives and you pause to eat and you take the opportunity to steal a few dim sum and settle in a little closer and a little more open towards him. When you start up the movie again, you’ve got one knee up on the middle cushion, body angled towards him slightly, and one elbow propped up on the back of the couch and supporting your head.

He’s not making any moves and you wonder if when you told him to stop earlier, he took it to heart. So, you start doing little things that end getting you closer, inch by inch. You kick off your little house slippers. “You can take off your shoes if you want.” 

Then you reach almost across him to get a fortune cookie that’s sitting on the table in front of him, which gains you a few millimeters. You pretend to crack your back, and at this point, you’re basically straddling the space between your cushion and the middle one. 

At some point, your arm falls to the back of the couch as you react to the scene and when you realize that your hand is on James’ forearm, he’s moving a little bit closer to you. Where you feel shy, he seems sure. His eyes are dark and determined. 

“You could come closer,” you say softly and he shrugs. His eyes flicker back to the screen and then back to you. He’s watching you and only you. 

“I could, but I need you to tell me how to move along with this.” He flips your hand over and his fingertips dance over your palm. So you scoot closer. You know he’s warm and suddenly, your skin has broken out in goosebumps. 

“I feel like there’s been a shift in the last couple of months, between us,” he says low, his voice like a hot coffee with a generous shot of whiskey, and the sound of it sends a bolt of electricity straight to your center. “It feels like there’s been a lot of starts and stops too.”

“I’d have to agree.” You look up at him and find his blue eyes dark with intensity. You rotate your wrist and mirror his actions and run your fingers along his palm and wrist. “There’s something more here, between us, I mean.”

“Of course there is. It’s why I spend all my free time with you.” He slides a little closer and his warm, rough fingers tickle that sensitive skin inside your elbow. “I just need to know what you want. I need you to spell it out for me.”

That’s when you realize that all of this has been foreplay, but where you thought he would take the lead again, he handed it directly to you. 

He wants you to spell it out for him. But he isn’t stupid, he’s playing you like a fiddle. You might have all the power tonight, which you enjoy, but he’s been orchestrating the entire thing. 

What you want is the singular focus in your mind right now, but there’s more buried underneath.

“I … want you.” He moves a little closer and smiles warmly, lips over teeth, but remains silent. 

“I need you… James.” His eyes darken slightly and he reaches for you with that metal appendage and pulls you to him this time and drapes your legs over his thighs. His hand is resting on your knee and you are acutely aware of his proximity.

“I just truly realized it today, but I’ve been feeling something for weeks now.” He shifts you both closer and his hand moves to your thigh. You can feel the muscles jumping, trembling, quivering, waiting for more. 

“I was annoyed because you were everywhere, always.” You huff as he laughs and cocks his head to the side and wets his lips with a quick dart of his tongue. “But I breathe easier when you’re around.” 

He pulls you closer and wraps an arm around your shoulders and you can feel yourself melt into his embrace. 

“It’s like,” you pause as his hand moves to curl around your neck to lightly massage the muscles there. “It’s like I hadn’t realized that I’ve been lost in the desert … that I need water.” 

That’s when he leans in a breadth away, you can see how clear and dark blue his eyes are. The short stubble that you pray will rub you raw in places people can see and places they can’t. 

“Dehydration is a bitch,” he points out and nudges his nose against yours only to pull back and look at you again. 

“I need the water to save me … I need it to be real. ” This time you move closer to him, but there’s barely any room left between you two. 

“This is real. I’m real,” he grips your hand and places it over his heart. “You can take what you need and give what you can. But I’m here now. This isn’t some mirage.”

 It’s now or never because if you can’t make this happen now, you’ll give up or spontaneously combust. 

Or leave and just never come back. 

“I’d give everything to have all of you, Bucky.” There’s a split second hesitation and then his mouth descends upon yours and it’s like he’s giving you the kiss of life because surely you weren’t truly living before this. 

His tongue sweeps across your lips begging for entrance and when you open for him he devours you and you groan in delight and surprise. You can admit now that you had dreamed of this and naturally it’s better than you imagined. 

He’s warm and firm, spicy from dinner and something that you suspect is strictly just him. The hand on your thigh has moved up your ribcage and is dancing up and down when you squeak into his mouth. 

When he pulls away, you give him an impish grin. “I’m a little ticklish.” He smiles and proceeds to dig his fingers into your side until you’re laughing and screaming in delight. 

“Is that your real laugh? I’ve never heard it before,” he says, grinning, and dips in for nips at your lips, cheeks, chin. “I like it.” 

When you smile it makes your cheeks hurt. You realize that ever since you came back, you’ve been holding back those smiles, not giving them your all -  except for this one. It’s full tilt and explosive and maybe a little manic, so your lips find his earlobe and when he shudders under your ministrations you feel it in your core.

He shifts you so you’re straddling his thighs and he’s so thick you can feel the fabric of your jeans straining against the stretch. There are no pretenses anymore. His hands are under your shirt, his thumbs flick over your hardened nipples. You’re trying desperately to garner any friction between the two of you, but the denim you both wear makes it difficult. 

You focus on his lips, his tongue, his hands, on the way he makes you feel; his touch is soft but fevered enough that you know he wants you. He’s tempering his movements for some reason. Maybe he’s worried you’ll be scared or intimidated.

In one swift motion, you pull off your shirt and unclasp your bra. You need his hands on your skin to feel the contrast between cool and warm, the polished and the rough. 

You want his lips on you and just as you look down at him he growls lowly in his throat and attacks. He grasps you by the back of the head crashes your mouth to his, teeth clanking and noses bumping. Chapped lips meeting, caressing. His stubble marking your chin and cheeks.  Tongues sliding wet and hot over each other, trying to claim every bit of real estate possible.  

Your hands are tangled in his hair and as you tug lightly he moans into your mouth and immediately kisses a trail down to your breasts. He licks and nips and sucks until you’re moaning and keening and grinding into him. 

“I need you.” You speak at the same time and the look shared between you two is soft and reverent. 

When he stands up from the couch with you wrapped around his hips, it’s not just sexy; it makes you feel safe and secure in a way you’ve never felt. When he kicks open the bedroom door, it’s with great satisfaction that the room is clean and orderly. 

He drops you softly on the bed and all but rips his long sleeve shirt from his torso while you lay there, propped up on your elbows just watching. It isn’t until he reaches for his belt that you spring into action.  

When you reach out with slightly trembling hands, he stills and looks at you questioningly. You offer him a smile because while you are nervous, it’s the good kind. 

You slide the leather through the buckle and undo the button fly and slide the jeans down to reveal nothing between the rough cotton and the already ready and willing member inside. You look up at him with a cocked eyebrow. 

“What? I don’t even own underwear.” 

You smirk and let him step out before running your hands up and down his bare thighs. His legs are spread shoulders width apart and he looks down at you. He’s breathing heavily and you understand the feeling. When your hands find him, he sucks in a breath and the muscles in his stomach clench. 

You aren’t shy; this is one of your favorite things to do. You delicately lick the head to spread his own moisture and mix it on your tongue. He gasps and his hands grip your shoulders as your mouth sinks down onto him. 

You find and set a pace that works using tongue and a little bit of teeth. Your mouth sucking, slurping, and rolling his balls in one hand. When you bottom out and he hits the back of your throat with little resistance from you, he groans from low in his gut and you can feel it reverberate in his body. 

The hands that had been gripping your shoulders reach under and hoist you up and off of him and he flings you back into the middle of the bed. 

On all fours, he stalks towards you, like a hunter after his prey. 

He reaches for your jeans and rips them off. You’re shocked. You figured something like that might hurt, but even though every nerve ending is firing, you felt nothing. 

“Those are pretty,” he murmurs and you glance down at the lace panties you’re wearing. You shrug. 

“I have plenty more.”

He grins and rips those from your body too. 

You’re both exposed to each other, naked and wanting. The air already lingers with the smell of arousal.

He doesn’t waste any time and crawls between your thighs and spreads your legs before him and sighs contentedly. 

“I’ve heard plenty of guys say a pussy is a beautiful thing, but I never got it ‘til now, sweets.” You’re laughing at the absurdity of his remark as he takes a long swipe, top to bottom and the laughter dies on your lips. 

Immediately your hands are fisted in the sheets, in his hair, clawing at his shoulders and back. His languid movements might be the death of you. 

Not a bad way to go, all in all. 

He’s humming against your nub when he inserts two cold fingers and the contrast between your hot center and his cold metal fingers makes you cum instantly.

You cry out and buck up and see him grin as his eyes meet yours but he won’t remove his mouth or his fingers from you. As you come back down, he adds a third finger and the second climax builds instantly again. 

You can’t catch your breath. 

He has you anchored to the bed with one arm wrapped around a leg and the other arm bringing you to a third, albeit slower orgasm. 

When you come down from that, you can only see stars and the curtain of his hair as he leans over you. 

“You hangin’ in there, sweets?” He leans in to kiss you and you can feel the stickiness in his stubble and on his tongue. 

You nod and feel the immense relief of knowing that he wants to make sure you’re still with him. 

And you are.

 It’s all been leading up to this, you finally realize it. Circling around each other, setting it all up. He’s ingrained himself in your life and now you’ve let him into your personal space. 

You’re both caressing each other waiting for your heart to slow, waiting for just the right moment. 

Because while it isn’t a game at all, sex and all that goes along with it never should be, this has been. It’s not cat and mouse though, it’s more like chess. Strategically testing the waters with each other over the last couple of months, delving in and learning new things. 

He’s like Bobby fucking Fischer as he settles his body between your legs and leans over you.

He’s set his queen right where he wants her. 

As he lines up his head with your entrance, gathering the wetness that lingers there and teasing you all the while. He’s taking too long, far too long. So, you wrap your legs around his hips and pull him to you and when he slides in, you never felt more perfect and full. 

You give a small laugh at the surprised expression on his face and he leans down to kiss you. 

“I want to be with you all night,” he breathes, as his lips drag across your collarbone and you clench around him. “We have all night, sweets.”

He pulls back and pumps back into you slowly, tortuously. You whine already, knowing full well that he can and will prolong this as much as possible. As he keeps up the arduous pace, your hands make trails up and down his biceps and back. Your fingers delicately trace the white and pink scars at his shoulder. 

His elbows cage your head, your legs still locked around his hips, but when you reach up and pepper gentle kisses to that left side. He slows even further. 

“You … you don’t have to …” His voice cracks but he hasn’t stilled his movements. 

“We have all night,” you parrot back to him. “I want my lips on every inch of you.” 

There’s a gleam in his eyes and by a trick of the light you think it might be tears, but it’s gone before you can question him.  He slides an arm under your back and begins to pick up his pace, pulling your hips to his to meet every thrust. 

The mingled sounds of skin on skin and your ragged breaths fill the quiet room until you shove gently at him and he pulls out of you and you move him to his back and you climb on. He twines his fingers with yours and supports your weight as you situate yourself and slide down. 

There’s a slight pain there as you adjust but he gives you a moment, softly kneading your breasts and smiling like a cat that caught the canary. 

As you begin to move he holds your hips softly, gently as you work him up and down, over and over. You have all night, there’s no need to rush. No need to move at a frantic pace. He reaches up and wraps his hands in your hair and pulls you down to catch your lips in a kiss. You’re still moving and the grinding sensation of your clit on his pelvic bone is speeding up this next orgasm. 

He bucks his hips up to meet yours and when the dam breaks you moan into his mouth while he latches onto a hardened nipple. 

You lay on top of him for a moment before he pulls you away and brushes the hair out of your face. You smile weakly at him. 

“I might need a little break,” you mutter as you try to stifle a yawn. “If we really do have all night.” 

He laughs and smacks you lightly on the ass and pulls you off of him and tucks you into his side. 

“We have all the time in the world, sweets.”

[prorevenge]

Tenure can't save you now

So, I saw a few 'I got my teacher fired' posts. Figured I'd post one of my two "I got my teacher fired post" This one is the better of the two as the other one is shorter and I'm not 100% sure I was the one who got them fired.

The first part is backstory, I'll list the final event down below

So this didn't' happen anytime recently. I took a Meteorology class. My professor for this class will just be Prof. Typically, there were things like reading assignments, and then labs in which we worked in groups of 2-4 people. H will be the girl that I usually partnered up with. Sometimes there would be others, but for every project I worked with H. Now, H was very busy and not... very good at this. So I tried my best to help her out, such as I made 'quick bullet study guides' for her on what's relevant to cut out a lot of the bs that wouldn't probably be asked and also did the assignments for her for the most part since I was actually really good at this. She didn't make it like she was expecting me to do it, I was just helping out since she only did the class for the credit.

So, there seemed to be a very big, and very noticeable problem with this class starting off. Prof hated me. Why I don't know. Possibly because he liked to make fun of the stupid kids and I wasn't stupid and it set him off to try making me look stupid? Anyhow, like I said, most of these assignments were done in groups. As such, H's answers to mine were similar nearly to every little word. However, she'd get an A and I'd get F-C's. For simple things like when talking about the heat budget and why we get more in summer vs winter, I used the word 'surface mass' and he wrote off that it was 'surface area' even though the book said surface mass. H's said the same thing, he'd give her full credit. I explain the Lag of the Maximum fully, he'd mark the whole question wrong because of one word change he'd prefer. Again, H never had this marked down. He'd also try making comments to me when I addressed his grading about me being stupid to the whole class. The whole class knew he was just being an ass as I was the only person who knew any of the answers he asked before we were even going over the chapters, so how could I be missing them on the tests?

However, the Professor was old. And a pervert. He'd try to put his hands on all the girls' shoulders and then 'slide forward'. H was a constant target as she was a fairly cute girl. She'd always tuck and try to get away from him while she'd still be sitting but it was getting to her too.

The Final Event.

So, we had a test halfway through the semester. I was averaging a D+/C- despite perfect work that was in no way even an A-. During this test one question was worth somewhere between 10-20% of the total grade. It was to draw and write the 3-cell weather model. I did EVERYTHING 100% perfect on it. He took the entire points off... why? Because the directional arrows I drew for windflow's tails weren't 'long enough'. I even compared to others who got partial or full credit on their test and they didn't' have long sweeping tails. He was just isolating me out. He took points off for the same sort of thing on everything else, but that was just blatantly wrong, no subjective reasoning. Since this was a 4 hour class, I approached him in the little break that we got about the grade. I told him being nice at first that I'd like to discuss what I got wrong (except I knew I wasn't wrong) and he told me he can't be fucked (yes, he swore a lot at me) to deal with my bullshit again and to just go sit down. So, I did, I was already planning to go talk to administration. It wasn't my first rodeo with having to deal with administration over horrible teachers. When the break was over, he came back out and this is pretty much what happened.

Prof: Okay class, I was going to print off some extra credit assignments, but I didn't have time to because Cookiedough is too fucking stupid to get anything right that he had to cry to me in the office to change his grade.

Me: Woah, hold up, I didn't take any longer than 20 seconds of your time and I have the RIGHT to ask what I did wrong. It is then YOUR job to substantiate WHY it was wrong or to fix it which you've neglected to do!

AT this point it became a straight up shouting match between him telling me how inappropriate my behavior is while hurling f bombs at me. I never cursed at him this whole time, but I did yell. At the end of that, he told me to get the fuck out of his classroom and to not come back. Oh, I so did.

I left the classroom, H asked if I was going to finally go and I said yeah, H and another girl that sometimes worked with us on the labs left with me. Turns out, after that whole shouting session and us walking out, everyone else decided to walk out. I only heard from one of them that the Prof was yelling at them as well for standing up and leaving after he said some things about me and the girls. (even typing this story up I'm still shaking from how angry this SoB got me)

We went to the administration, then spoke with the Dean all in the same day. We laid out his behaviors and unfair grading and harassing me, and of course his sexual harassment on H and the other girl. They asked if we're filing a formal complaint against Prof. We all said yes. They made us fill out some forms and then I was asked to speak to the department head regarding my grade . I showed her the test and then other papers of tests and how he'd been grading them. H was there with me to tell her that we had the exact same answers that he just was doing it to me. The Dept head told me to just keep coming to class and when the tests and finals come around she would be the one to grade it.

The aftermath? The next class period, everyone shows up. No teacher shows up. An hour in, we're waiting. Nobody's shown up. One of the Phys Ed teachers comes in with a clip board and is going through it for attendance. Then just says "No class today, dismissed". This happens one more class period where we go in, wait I think it was 10-15 minutes. He comes in and says "no class today, dismissed". Well, I go to the lunchroom early. I meet with one of the administrators. Now, here's the thing and I am pretty sure this is against policy to discuss a teacher's firing, but my god she was chatty with me and one of the lunch ladies (who I usually converse with.)

Admin: You have no idea how grateful we are you submitted a formal complaint! We keep getting complaints about him, but he has tenure, we needed a formal complaint to finally fire him!

Yes, he was FIRED.

Talking with the admin some more, turns out this bastard has done all of... (this was her talking between the lunch lady and I, and apparently this lunch lady KNEW his shit as well)

Told a muslim kid "Don't bring a bomb to class"

Told a young mother "Only stupid people get pregnant"

Told a girl with cancer "only stupid people get cancer, fix your diet"

Told a lot of homophobic shit to some gay students (maybe why he hated me though most people don't know I'm gay unless I tell them. I don't 'act it')

Told a girl wearing a white shirt that it's a shame it wasn't raining in the classroom. (see through. Get the idea)

Told a mentally challenged person to stop acting like a retard (what mental handicap I don't know)

and of course lots of claims of inappropriate touching. But until the other girl, H and I made the formal complaint, they had NOTHING on him due to tenure.

The better part? They couldn't find a teacher to replace him and his times. They couldn't just also CANCEL the classes either, so everyone in the class got a passing grade (Mine was A, I think everyone else got an A too) and we didn't have to go for the second half of the semester.

IF anyone's curious about anything (or the other teacher problems) Let me know. None of them are nearly as...well... fudged up as this one.

(source) story by (/u/Cookiedoughjunkie)

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

a language of its own - Day 10

“And the heart is hard to translate, it has a language of its own.”

All the ways Rey and Ben say “I love you”.

Guys, it’s already Day 10!! Only two more ficlets left in my 12-day Valentine’s collection, which means things are finally happening! Today’s prompt is a hold me until my panic attack passes kind of love, and I think some of you will be quite pleased with recent developments. This one’s been a long time coming, so I hope I did it justice. Happy reading!

12 Days of Valentine’s Also available on AO3 Psst, you can also find me on Twitter and Ko-fi!

Ben ❤️❤️❤️: Can you come home please

It’s the middle of the day – just a little after three – and the timing alone trips her up so much it takes Rey a while to notice the missing question mark. Ben never skips proper punctuation. Never.

Rey: is everything okay??

She pushes around a few sheets of paper while she waits for his reply, reaches for her unfinished soda from lunch as she keeps her eyes glued to her phone. Two minutes later, Rey nearly chokes on her drink.

Ben ❤️❤️❤️: I quit.

Rey calls him immediately, her blood thundering in her ears as she tries to make sense of this development. Did he just do it? Why now? Was it Snoke? Of course it was Snoke, the old creep–

“Please come home,” Ben begs her the second he picks up, sounding smaller than she’s ever heard him. There’s an urgency to his words, a breathlessness in his voice that makes her realize–

Panic attack.

“I’m on my way, baby. Just hang in there, okay? I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

She tells Han a half-truth, something about Ben needing her but not why, not until he’s ready to share it himself, and coughs up the cash for a ride back to the apartment instead of waiting for her usual bus. Twenty minutes later Rey stumbles into their home with no small amount of panic in her own system, unable to so much as properly breathe until she makes her way into their room and finds Ben sprawled out across the bed, suit and tie and all. He’s even got his shoes on, his feet dangling just over the edge of the bed, and Rey’s first instinct is to pull them off and kick off her own shoes before she climbs into bed and settles in next to him.

“Hey.” She rolls over on her side and props her head up with a hand on her cheek, studies the blank look in his eyes as he takes exaggerated breaths. In, out, in, out…

Rey watches his throat work, watches the way he opens his mouth only to be met by silence. It takes a while before he turns to her with a quiet hey of his own, but as soon as he does he’s rolling over to meet her and burying his face in her neck while he throws a leg and an arm around her.

“I fucked up,” Ben gasps as she runs one hand through his hair and the other up and down his back. “I fucked up so bad, I wasn’t thinking – fuck, Rey, what have I done?”

It takes all her strength to push against him and nudge him onto his back so that she can straddle him and hold his face in her hands. “Hey, look at me. Look at me,” Rey instructs, tightening her grip on his jaw for a split second. “You didn’t fuck up anything, okay? You did the right thing, baby.”

Ben squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, just like everyone always knew I would.” When he opens his eyes, there’s a renewed glint of panic and fear in them. “Rey, I’ve spent my whole adult life working towards this. I went to school for this. There’s nothing– I have nothing without–”

She shuts him up the only way she can right now, sliding her fingers into his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp as she leans down to kiss his breath away. “That’s not true and you know it,” Rey tells him between kisses. “You have everything you need to start again. You have family and friends who’ll support you. And,” she brushes her nose against his, nudging him until he opens his eyes and looks at her. “And you have me, no matter what. Okay, Ben? You’ll always have me, I promise. We’ll handle this together.”

He stares at her for the longest time as a dozen emotions play out on his face, from awe to terror to insecurity to hope to terror again. By the time his hands reach for her waist he’s settled on insecurity, and no matter how hard she tries she can’t kiss the lost look in his eyes away.

“I had a plan, Rey. A five-year plan, a ten-year plan, a fucking twenty-year plan. I thought I had my whole life planned out, and now… Now it’s all gone because I couldn’t stand to hear that twisted sick little fuck say another word about you and my family.”

Her skin crawls at the thought of Snoke talking about her and Leia and Han, at the thought of him trying to fill Ben’s head with god knows what, but they can talk about that later. For now Rey adjusts herself and pulls him along with her so that she’s propped up against the headboard and Ben has his head on her shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay, Ben,” she soothes him, holding him to the best of her abilities given how much bigger he is. “Plans are… plans are overrated, baby. I thought I had a plan, and now I’m working with your father. And honestly, I’m happier here than I would have been at any of those fancy car companies, doing grunt work and paying my dues, so I’d say it worked out. And it’ll work out for you too, Ben. I know there’s something out there waiting for you, something worthy of you.”

Ben nuzzles the curve of her shoulder. “I just… I don’t know if I can handle starting all over again. I thought I had it all figured out, and now for the first time since I was seventeen I have no fucking idea what I’m doing with my life.”

She lets his words hang in the silence that follows, lets him process his new reality for a while. And then she leans down to press a kiss to his forehead and rest her cheek against his crown. “You’re going to take a break, just for a little while. And then when you’re ready, we’ll figure it out together, okay?”

Outside, it’s starting to rain. Rey can hear the light drizzle hitting the dry leaves just outside their window, hear how Ben’s breathing is slowly going back to normal, hear the way he whispers together into the hollow of her neck.

“Together,” Rey promises, and holds him until the sun goes down.

He finally did it, you guys! Ben finally got sick of Snoke’s shit - and all it took was Snoke trash-talking the two most important women in his life. Imagine thinking your crusty old manipulative ass can turn Ben against Rey. Just imagine. What a fucking idiot.

Only two days left now, and only one more Big Development left now that Ben’s finally quit his job. I’ll save the long and rambling thank-you note for the end, but I just wanted to say a quick thanks for coming along on this not-so-fluffy-after-all ride with me. It’s been great watching this collection take shape and unfold with you guys, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing.

As always, thank you for reading and please don’t hesitate to like/reblog/comment. See you guys tomorrow for the final two pieces!

[zane-rapha-the-mun]

The Transformation: Paradigm shift. Ch-1 By Zane Rapha

Prolog: May of 2020

    'The dark-haired woman sat silent, I counted the seconds as they went by, 4 minutes and 37 seconds. To say the least, I know she is mad.'     She gave him a stern glare as she reached for the top drawer in her desk and pulled out a red folder, labeled Special Agent's File 417- Zane Morningstar, before starting to read from the top page.

     "Special agent Zane Morningstar. DOB: 12/22/1998. Age 22. 5ft-7in. 140lb, Eye color: Blue. Hair: black, Left handed. Male. History: Unknown. Family... Let's see... Mother: Cora Morningstar, Deceased. Father: Unknown. Siblings: None. Childhood home: St. Ann's Home for Children.     And yet even though you have had it rough, it also says your the youngest agent to have ever graduated out of Quantico. Known as one of the smartest people in the world having an IQ of 163 on the Stanford test. Also known for holding a World Guinness record for most cases solved, given you have been providing information anonymously via letters to the leading agents or detectives on the cases starting at the age of 12.     Now I like an underdog as much as the next guy but it is no excuse for drinking your problems away, Acting like a complete fool at my crime scene, and publicly mistreating your partner?!" She shouted in his face.

    His face was flush red, a color not common for him.     'She has a right to be angry at this juncture, yet she is exaggerating a bit.'

    "I'm... Sorry? However, I must inform you that is an exaggeration."     "Oh! Is that so?" She said with clear sarcasm.      " Well, for one, I drink only a glass of wine in the evening, just to calm my nerves. Also, if acting like a fool is what you call it when I do my job, then yes, otherwise, I was not. AND!-"     "SHUT THE HELL UP! That was not a real question smart-ass." She fumed, clearly not enjoying my humor in all this.     "Well, you don't have to be so rude!"     "You know what, your right! I can just do This!" She said sliding the paperwork across the desk. "You get to fill all this out on your days off from now on."     'It's old cold cases from last year. Does she really think this will be an issue?'    "I know your thinking, What, is that all? NO! You are being reassigned to a new partner who won't take your shit! Say hello to Agent Sian." She said pointing to the door.    He looked, to the door and saw them standing there listening in on their conversation.     'This girl is quiet, I didn't hear a peep from her this whole time. She is going to be intriguing.'

--Chapter 1: Just a Gear in the Machine--

Dec 2021

      There was a sound of a blood-curdling shriek that filled the back alleys of the bustling city block ahead of me. No one seemed to hear the screams but instead chose to ignore it, as if it is not there. I still moved quickly but cautiously towards the sound, a little frightened of what I will find.

    'Why must I be here?' I think to myself as I watch everyone pretend the world is on their phones and nothing else is real. Then, without thinking I unholster my sidearm, running into the alley, and I call out quickly, "FBI! Freeze, Drop your weapons!" Nothing was there. It was just a shadow casting off a dumpster as a dimly lit side building lamp flickered, a woman's shoe sat at the base of it.     'Clearly, something is wrong here.' I thought to myself before looking around the alleyway and questioned anyone who might have seen something to find no one had seen a thing.     "Just Typical! People keep their heads down when the FBI ask questions." I said to myself in frustration. 'At least there seems to be a boot print in the mud by the garbage bin. I took out my pen which I have markings for measurements. 14 inches and the depth is 3 centimeters. This guy is big and tall. Most likely male based on the shoe size. Most females don't get that big. Might be in the 6ft and up range.     I then received a call in to report on my radio. I soon reported in. "We may have a 207 or a 10-54 at the 42ed east and 14 broad back alleys possible male suspect may be in the 5'7 to 6ft range."     A static sound filled my radio before the noise of the other agent repeating 10-1 came through. 'Why would there be poor reception out here? Someone must have a jammer. Anyhow, I'll report back at HQ, and there will be a squad out here.'     After I walked a few feet away the static cleared, "10-4, Go home. I will want a briefing in the morning."     I responded quickly. "10-10, Boss." 'That's a bit unusual... and not by the books. I'll need to look into this.' I thought to myself.

    As I walked home, the sensation of having eyes on my back grew stronger. 'Someone is watching me, but who?' I questioned myself in thought. 'This is strange. No footsteps. Where did the people go? Why am I so dizzy?' I looked down to the ground unsteady, almost fainting. 'I need to go home now.' I quickened my pace to get home as soon as I could. Finding my keys as I ran to the door. I entered the pin for my apartment *0419* The gate door chimed, and the latch clicked open. The door was open and soon locked behind me. 'Whoever is following me will find it hard to get in this place.' I thought as I looked at the door to see if anyone passed it. Running up the two flights of stairs I soon re-found my apartment key now having the right door. I entered the clean and well-kept studio apartment. One of which most would think belonged to someone with OCD. I flipped the lights on and closed the door behind me. I checked the locks on the door before moving over to the windows. I checked the locks on the sliding steel bars. "Safe," I said with a sigh of relief. Walking over to the kitchen too poured myself a glass of red wine, sipping on it for a minute before going to my desk where my all black desktop sat. I moved the mouse to hear the roar of the fans in the tower come to life. Timestamp 12/3/2021 10:27 PM.     'Damn, it's late. I have to get that report in before 12. I hope I can get it done on time.' I thought to myself as I set my wine down and sighed into FBI server and started on my report.

    The next morning, I arrived at the office to discover it had become a crime scene.  My boss was found dead and was being carried off in a body bag.  There was yellow tape everywhere. "What happened here?" I shout. "Why is he dead? I just spoke to him last night!" I said, frightened and angry, "What the hell happened to him?"    "The Director needs to talk with you." Special Agent Sian said.  "Very well then," I said. "Do you know what happened here, Agent?"    "That is what the Director needs to speak to you about."    I hurried to the Director's Office with a horrible feeling of dread. 'This is going to be bad.'    I knocked on the closed door, and hesitantly entered the superior agent's office. "Welcome, Agent Morningstar, thank you for coming in, please take a seat. I need to speak to you about something important."    "As I'm sure you have been made aware, the Assistant Director, Maxwell Horren has recently passed."    "How did he die?" I asked.    "We are still looking into that, Agent Morningstar, but we suspect suicide. The circumstances of his death are still under investigation at this time." He said before a long drawn-out sigh escaped. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to hand in your service weapon and shield, you are under suspension pending the conclusion of the coroner's inquest. At this time, you are the last known person to see him alive, and we need to consider all possibilities of his death. I'm sorry, but you know this is only a formality as you were here last night, at the suspected time of his death. So, you will remain a suspect until this is settled and until then, Agent Morningstar, I expect you to remain cooperative."    "You can't do that, I wasn't here last night, I did my report on my home PC and Sent it in at 11:45 PM.  I was on a case and then went back home. I wasn't here at all yesterday."     "Yes, you were. I saw you getting coffee for Maxwell when I left at 9:00 PM. Your report was submitted at 9:40 PM and our records show you checked out at 10:00 PM, which matches the footage of you leaving the lobby. His suspected time of death is between 9:30 and 10:00, so if it was not suicide, you are our prime suspect! I'm sorry, but I have to ask you not to leave the city at this time. Do you understand?"      "Yes," I replied begrudgingly as I placed my sidearm and badge on the table.      "I'll update you on what we find as soon as possible, Mr. Morningstar, goodbye." He said getting up to show me the door.

                                     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    I left the FBI headquarters suspended pending this damn investigation! I'm now a possible murder suspect! 'What did he mean when he said he saw me there? I know I was not there, and why say my report was sent at 9:40? No that is not right, I sent it in at 11:45, I swear... I don't know what is going on here, but this is bad. I need to check my computer when I get home, but I can't set on the couch and do nothing, I have to take action right away. Are they trying to frame me for Max's death? If this is going down the way it seems to be; I must speak to Kate on this matter. She'll know what is going on and she'll see what I should do.' I thought to myself as I walked to the children's hospital.

   Kathryn Morgen, Age 22. 5 foot 6 inches, 147 lb, Eye color brown, hair brown, Right-handed Female, works as a C.I.A. Agent, she also volunteers her spare time at the children's hospital, to help out the staff with excess paperwork overload. She can often be found at the front desk filing intake papers with a smile. Her kindness and generosity exceed imagination. Not only that but she is a world-renowned mathematician having an IQ of 157 and three books on theorems and formulas. She is also Zane Morningstar's foster sister and best friend since they were kids.

   "Hey Zane, how is my favorite person?" Kate asked endearingly.      "I need to talk to you. Your C.I.A. connections. Perhaps you can find out why I'm being framed?" I asked, hesitant of her response.    "Framed for what?" She asked, raising a brow in suspicion.    "They are trying to frame me for Max's death," I Stated.     "Wait, what?! Maxy is dead?..." She looked down trying to process the information. "When?" She questioned hesitantly with a sad expression.     "Last night apparently. They said between 9:30 and 10:00 PM," I replied quickly trying to get her to move this along.     "Okay... Right. So that would be when you were working at the office last night. Oh, so you are a suspect since you were there?" Kate asked.     "No, I was on a case. You know, the one I told you about last night, where I heard a woman screaming, and when I arrived, no one was there. She poofed. I can't explain it! No evidence of her or anything aside from a shoe and then I was asked to go home by Max with no explanation." I explained with only a confused expression as my reply.     "I had just gone home at 10:27 and filed my report." I continued only to get her shaking her head no.     "I talked to you all last night after I finished my report, remember?" I said.     "No! At around 10 PM last night, you called me to tell me you were going to be busy all day today, and that you would come over to visit me tonight!  Whatever you are talking about with this case and no one being there, you never said a word to me about this. What happened? Did you forget, and have a dream that you told me about this case? Because I don't recall you telling me about that case at all!"    "I see... I have to go, I'm sorry!" I said before rushing to get outside.    "Okay, bye!" She yelled as I opened the doors.    'I hate to leave Kate like that abruptly, but I need to go home, Now!' I thought to myself as I ran from the hospital.

 'Okay, that was very strange,' I shuttered, in thought. Now in a panic, I moved fast through the city, passing a tall man with long black hair holding out roses to a little girl as I ran. 'I don't remember any of that conversation happening like that. I need to check the date for today!'

  As soon as I arrived home, I then went directly to my desk computer. I needed to check my files and confirm the time and date stamp on my reports. I found that all of my sent files were gone and I couldn't log in to the FBI at this time. Everything that I know I did yesterday is missing.     "FUCK. What the hell is happening here? I need to check my personal journals."     Maybe I can use it as evidence, I kept a detailed record of everything that happened, and some proof too, I kept photos in it. I always keep daily journal entries in precise detail, before I go to sleep each night. I know that no one could have tampered with it. I went to my antique desk, that has been rigged to conceal my secret documents. I doubt anyone knows I keep a journal And, even if someone found out, it is even more unlikely they could find my hidden desk compartment.   I sat down at the stained wooden desk and reached into the fountain pen drawer to retrieve the secret key stashed inside a hollow fountain pen. Then I reached behind the retractable keyboard tray, to locate the key latch for the locked file box. I opened the file box without looking because experience with my daily writing exercise made me familiar with the lock by touch alone. I retrieved my book and began to review my last entry. As I started reading, I discovered that there was indeed an entry for yesterday. However, the page had been ripped out of the book. My computer says it is 12/6/2021, but the entries for the 3rd 4th and the 5th are gone. This is strange, no page has ever been torn from my Journal by me. Now, there are only ragged edges.    'Okay, who has figured out I had journals? No one knows about my writings. Not even Kate knows. No one knows. So how did this happen?'     I can't fathom who or what could do this, or why they would want to. Who would go this far to frame me for a murder I never committed? I mean My memories of the past two days are gone.    'Why would anyone do this to me?', I thought. I reflect back on how careful and methodical I have always been with my undercover work. I have never blown my cover. No criminal I have ever successfully caught and arrested has ever discovered the truth of who I am. I am so cautious that few people even know where I live.     I am more concerned right now than I have ever been in my entire life, but a form of rage is rising to take the place of my fear. I begin pacing the room as my anxiety increases. I find myself moving toward the windows, to check if all the locks are secure. There are no signs of a breach of the home. 'How did two days disappear from my memory? And why?' I questioned.

    While looking out the window I saw a very tall man, wearing a Black hat with long curly black hair and a long dark gray trench coat.     'Wait a minute; he's the guy I passed by at the hospital handing a girl a rose.' I thought to myself in shock. I reach for my sidearm to find it missing.     "Fuck it to hell, I'm unarmed," I said to myself before grabbing a hidden flip knife from the kitchen and moving fast to the door and running down the stairs.     'This is crazy. No sidearm, no badge, No backup. I'm running in blind to a potentially dangers situation with only a flip knife. Fuck!' I thought in a panic as I slipped the knife into my pocket before running outside.     Now outside of my apartment, he was lurking next to the bus stop out front. It is as though I can feel his presence calling me to come to him. I know he's trying to lure me someplace quiet. I see a glimpse of his eye, and I start to follow him as he leads me down the sidewalk. After a few paces, he walked down an alley; I choose to go. I begin to walk toward him, though I can't think of a good reason for doing so aside from instinct. I soon realized I am making a terrible mistake as I continue towards him and catch a glimpse of the man's face.   As I move closer to him, I finally question why I am even out here doing this. I am a very well trained agent; I should know better than to do this alone.     'I have a 1 in 5 chance of being raped, a 20% chance of being kidnapped and a 1 in 6,100 of being murdered. I'm a suspect in a murder case, so chances are my life is over, and I'm walking towards a stranger who I suspect of killing a woman. I don't like my odds here. Even if I get out of this alive, I most likely won't like the results of the case. I should go to Max's Apartment and see if there is a suicide note. If someone did kill him, there should be none.'     My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by what can only be described as a deep, smooth voice. I realized that while my mind was racing my body continued to move toward the danger. Suddenly, I found myself trapped in a narrow alley with my body pinned against a brick wall.    "Now, aren't you interesting. May I offer you a gift?"    The man reached into his trench coat pocket to pulled out something but waited. "What's your favorite color? Come now don't be shy."     "I am FBI Agent, Zane Morningstar. I have a few questions for you, sir. To start where you the night of December 3rd?     The man smirked. "There is no need for that, I know you know I was there. But don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just trying to give you a gift."     I gave him a fearsome look as I imagined all the things that he could possibly do to me at this point. I have few options, I need to position myself out from against the wall and find a better angle to deal with a guy like this fast before things get out of hand. "Listen, whatever you did, I need you to tell me now. Things only get worse from here on out unless you turn yourself in." I stated calmly reaching for my holster. 'Perhaps he won't notice that I don't have a gun..'     "You know it's not very nice to try playing games with me. I could offer you an end to keeping that little mouth of yours shut forever." He said sounding devious as if he would enjoy the challenge.    "You are a choice little sick fuck aren't you? How dare you! Who the hell do you think you are? Do you even realize that you just threatened a federal agent? I should arrest you!" I retorted trying to keep my voice stable.     His smirk widened with a slight uneasiness to it, it was as if the prospect made him laugh a little inside. His black and oily razor-sharp teeth exposing themselves, dripping onto the pavement. "No, I'm afraid you're not. See, you're not a cop or an agent right now, and it is you who doesn't have a clue who they are talking to, or what for that matter. However, that is beside the point. I'm going to show you a trick, and all you need to do is accept my gift. Okay? Now, I'll ask again. What is your favorite color? Doesn't have to be your favorite, just name one you want."     "I refuse to entertain you any further. Get out of my way!" I said firmly as I tried to assert my authority.    "Oh dear, Very well then. I must say that was a very dumb move on your part human, I may just give you a chance since I'm in a good hunting mood. Maybe I can have some fun with you," he said. Before standing upright.    'Taller than six foot... He's in the eight range, but how?' I thought to myself in wonder, before looking at his face better as he tilted it to one side. He has one eye, and its iris is Red. 'What is this thing?'                                                        ~ ~ ~ ~                                                

[metalzombiemiss]

Conference

Characters: Negan x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut, language

So @ohsosmutty loved part 1 so much and asked for a part 2! Hope you enjoy!

“Good morning, Negan,” you casually say as you walk past him in the hallway. You step into your office and glance at your watch. 9:30, you think, How is it only 9:30? You huff impatiently and set your bag down on the floor. Your hand reaches over to the computer to turn it back on after a weekend asleep. As it sings awake, there’s a knock at your door. You look up to see Negan smiling at you. “Hi,” he says, attempting to sound professional, “I know you booked the conference room at 10 for us but I was hoping we could go over a few things before that.” You nod, “Good idea. Shut the door.” You get up and walk over to meet him. He shuts the door behind him and you lean in to lock it. “What things did you want to go over?” You question, running your hand up his chest. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you towards him. His lips meet yours with an intense passion. You can feel the desire in him as your tongues dance to a song only you can hear. You let go and look up at him.

He towers over you just as he had on Friday and the arousal between your thighs begins to creep. You opted for no panties this time so that all of your juices can freely flow out of you. “I thought that maybe I could fucking work you up in here so our “meeting” can be that much fucking better,” he says, stroking your cheek gently. “We could do that,” You slink away and walk over to your desk, “Could make it that much more intense.” You bend over, showing your supple ass to him. Your thigh high stockings peeking through the slit in your pencil skirt. Negan’s deep growl as he walks towards you sends a shiver up your spine. He settles himself behind you and begins feeling every curve. His hands explore you as you hum softly, responding to his touch. You throw your head back as his long fingers find their way up your skirt. “Oh fuck me, darlin,” he groans in appeasement, “No fucking panties this time? Holy fuck. I’m not sure I can wait until 10.” He leans down and nibbles on your exposed neck as he slides his finger up and down your slit.

You stand up and turn to face him. “Well, I’m sorry Negan but you’re going to have to wait. I know it’s going to be hard,” you say, rubbing the rock hard manhood he’s presenting, “But it’ll be worth it. The anticipation is what makes it that much better.” You lick his lips softly and smile at him. He smirks and brings you towards him to kiss once more. You moan into his mouth as your tongues battle roughly. He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you away. “Sweetheart, I don’t like not being in control of situations. So, here’s what’s going to fucking happen: I’m gonna sit your fine ass up on this fancy desk of yours, spread your legs as far as they can fucking go and devour your pussy like it’s the last thing I’m ever gonna fucking do with my life,” he growls into your ear, licking your jaw line between each statement. You sigh, “As appealing as that sounds, we should wait. I promise you, it will be worth the wait.” You kiss him softly. “God damn, darlin. You fucking kill me with this shit. I’m hard as fuck and you are still denying me! How do you have such fucking amazing fucking self-control?” You giggle as you walk to the other side for your desk. “I like the anticipation. It gets me wet as fuck which makes me cum harder. Don’t you want me to cum hard for you, Negan?” You smirk. His dark eyes once again stare right through you. “Fucking hell, baby,” he leans over the desk, “You are a god damn tease. Such a dirty girl. You know how to make my dick twitch.” “Now, do me a favor: Shut the fuck up for once and get out of my office. I’ll see you in 15 minutes.” You lean in and kiss him again. “Mother fucker. I have never let a woman control me like this. You are something fucking else sweetheart,” he stands up, fixes his obvious erection, and turns around to leave. “15 minutes, Negan,” you say sternly as the door opens and he walks out. You smile, proud of yourself for your dominance. Enjoy it while you can, you think, you’re going to pay for that soon.

You get up from your desk several minutes later and fix your skirt. The love that had been keeping itself inside began to drip down your thick thighs in anticipation. You grab a folder filled with papers to keep up appearances and walk down the hall to conference room B. Your heart races as you walk in to find Negan already leaning on the table. “You’re late,” he says sternly. You shut the door behind you and lock it. Your heels clack on the hardwood floor as you walk towards him. “Fuck you. I’m a minute early,” You scoff, setting the folder down on the desk. He grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him. “You are in big fucking trouble, dirty girl,” His voice deep and raspy. The rumble in his voice causes your core to twitch with excitement. “Am I, now?” You question, running your tongue along his thin lips. A tingle runs up his spine and his eyelids flutter shut. “Mmm…yes you fucking are. I’m the one in fucking control, you little slut,” he yanks your hair, craning your neck towards the ceiling, “How fucking dare you deny me? Who the fuck do you think you are?” You giggle and immediately move your hand to his hard member. “This isn’t fucking funny. You’re going to be punished for this.” He goes directly for your neck and bites down, knowing full well he’ll be leaving a mark. You gasp and rub his cock faster. The toughness of his beard scratching every inch of skin. “What are you gonna do? Spank me?” You taunt him, your breath accelerating. “Oh, I’m gonna do way fucking more than just spank you. I’m gonna make fucking sure you can’t fucking walk for a damn week,” he continues to lick and suck on your neck like a vampire desperate for blood.

Your groans fill the room and his large hand swiftly covers your mouth. “Shut the fuck up, doll. We can’t let anyone hear us,” he whispers in your ear. “Mmm… yes, sir,” you respond, breathless. “Now, be good or I won’t let you cum,” he growls. You whimper in protest. He grins, gripping his bottom lip in his teeth. Grabbing you by the throat, he kisses you again. He forces his tongue into your mouth and leads you to the edge of the conference table. Still consuming his lips, you get yourself on the large mahogany table and wrap your legs around his waist. You force him towards you and you can immediately feel him on your mound. There’s no hiding your arousal anymore. The excitement building in your core begins to drip down creating a pool beneath you on the table. His hand grazes down your body and finds its way up your skirt again. He groans with delight as he discovers the soaking mess that is your pussy. His middle finger slides up and down, teasing your clit. You grind your hips forward but he stops you. “What the fuck did I say, darlin?” He grabs your face with his free hand. “Sorry, Daddy. I just want your fingers in me so fucking badly. Please. Finger fuck my cunt,” you beg desperately. “Jesus fucking Christ, babydoll, you’ve got a filthier mouth than I fucking do!” He slides his middle finger into you and slowly pumps in and out. You throw your head back with relief. “Fuck,” you moan. Your hand begins to explore your clothed breasts. He looks at you and grins, “I think you need to lose that blouse, sweetheart. It’s getting in the way of me playing with those fine fucking tits you got.” You look at him with your lust filled eyes and begin to unbutton your white blouse. Your breasts sit beautifully in your white lace bra as you begin to run your fingers on the edge of the cup. You remove your left breast and start to massage it slowly as his finger continues inside of you. He slides in a second and then a third, stretching your walls as if to prepare you for what’s coming.

Negan brings himself to his knees and hikes your skirt up a little more. “I wanna fucking taste you while you squirt all over my hand, baby. Without wasting any time, his tongue laps at your bud. He devours you as he had promised in your office. You pinch your nipple and sway your hips into his face. Your orgasm builds slowly and soon, you escape into a world of ecstasy. You cover your mouth to avoid too much sound leaving your lips. Your thighs shake and grasp around his head. The orgasm subsides and you’re breathless. He comes to his feet, wiping your cream off his beard. “Fuck, baby. You are insane when you cum,” he says, undoing his belt and removing his black slacks. You sit up slightly to be able to reach his cock. “Is it your turn, daddy?” You ask, softly. “No, darlin,” he removes your hand, “If I don’t fuck you right fucking now, I’m gonna lose my shit. I need your pussy around me.” He kisses you again and teases your hole with the head of his cock. He pushes himself with force making you scream into his mouth. You shake from the shock of it. You rush to unbutton his dress shirt so you can feel his chest hair on your breasts, your mouths still attacking one another. The coarse, dark hair on his chest sends a chill through your whole body. His cock fills you to the brim and you can hardly contain your next orgasm. Your walls clench around his girth. His groans becoming louder. “Shhhh….” You whisper, “We can’t make any noise.” His forehead rests on yours as he continues to slam into you. His hands grasping at your bra, making your breasts spill over the cup. Without warning, the waves of pleasure take over again. Your pussy explodes on his cock as you dig your nails into his chest. His lips are on yours in an instant taking in every whimper you can muster.

He stops and pulls himself out of you. You stare at him with confusion. He sits down in one of the leather chairs in the room and looks down at himself. “Get the fuck over here and ride this cock like a mechanical bull in a god damn country bar, sweetheart,” he says, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. You bite your bottom lip and hop off the table. You walk towards him slowly and begin to tease his cock. “No, no, doll. None of that. Turn your back to me and get the fuck on me. Now,” he protests. You giggle and spin yourself around. He smacks your ass with such force you nearly topple over. You welcome the sting. He repeats the gesture on the other cheek. “You are a naughty little bitch,” he says. He leans in and begins leaving bite marks on your ass. He said he was going to punish you and he’s following through. You place yourself over him and slide down the length of him. You adjust to his size again. Your hips bounce up and down while his hands grasp your hips. “Fuck yeah, baby. Ride that cock. You like it, don’t you?” He grabs you by throat and pulls you closer to him. “Yes, Daddy. I love this cock,” you respond, struggling to keep focus on his words. “You’re mine, now. Isn’t that right, slut? You’re my sexy little fucking whore.” His words sting the air and you gasp as his cock hits your g-spot. You grind your hips on him as you get closer. “Say it,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m your whore,” you reply, eyes shut tight anticipating the next explosion. “Good girl,” his fingers dig into your hips again and he adjusts himself. He slams into your hole faster and harder than before, leaving marks on your hips as he digs deeper. You bite your bottom lip again to try and stifle a scream. You shake and the flood gates open once again. Your cum runs down his legs and his moans signal his moment is coming. You climb off of him and fall to your knees. You take his member into your mouth and open your throat as much as you can. You choke on him as you lick and suck every last inch you can take. He twitches in you and soon you feel his warmth run down your throat. “Mmmmmffff…Fuuuuck!” His voice echoing in the empty room. You swallow every last drop and look up at him. He runs his fingers through your hair and stares into your eyes. His pupils still large from the release.

“You are a work of fucking art, doll. I think I’m gonna keep you,” he says, rising up to put his slacks back on. Helping you to your feet, you adjust your skirt back down. “Well, we will see how long this lasts,” you laugh, fixing your blouse. He buttons his own shirt and looks down at you, “I already told you, pussy that nice is needed long term.” You fix your hair and raise an eyebrow. “What?” You reply. “I’m keeping you, darlin,” his warm hands cup your face, “Why don’t we try fucking somewhere else next time? My place? After dinner?” You open your mouth but words escape you in that moment. “Tomorrow night. 7. My place. I’ll send you the address later,” he lets go of your face and walks out of the room. You stand there in disbelief, unsure of what just happened. A date? You think. Oh, fuck….

[kyotohub-ktv]

金貨 | The Idol Watch

A few months prior...

Tozai, Some time around 9PM

Laughter filled the room, mixed with the unmistakable sound of glasses noisily clinking against the bar top. Mr.Inoue sauntered to the door to click off the neon sign that read ‘open’. The manager shook his head as he turned to make his way back, a smirk spreading across his stubbled face as he eyeballed Okita rummaging through Tozai’s liquor selection.

“I could have sworn we got all the rats out of this place.” Kenji said jokingly as he slid behind the bar, ominously towering over the teenage boy. “Ah, I think you missed a big one.” Okita teased with a conniving smirk, pointing at Mr.Inoue, causing the older male’s eyebrow to twitch. Mr.Inoue folded his arms as he replied to the mischievous blonde. “Normally I’d wring your collar for that, but since we’re celebrating… I’ll let it go, now move your ass.” Okita chuckled again, bolting his way to his beside his band-mates.

Except for one...

“Speaking of celebrating… where the hell is Shino?” Nami questioned the group as she glanced at the time on her cellphone. “Hmm…” Wataru held his chin in thought before he spoke. “He’s probably on his way with Gin or something.” As they pondered their frontman’s whereabouts, the chime of entry bells caught their attention.

“Speak of the devil.” Okita exclaimed as Gin and Satsu strode inside.

“Yes. Evil incarnate himself has arrived. You rang?” Gin said sarcastically as the pair headed for a seat at the bar. “Ah, Yes... On your journey from hell, did you happen to see Shino anywhere?”

“You mean he’s not here?!” Satsu exclaimed with utter disappointment.

The threesome shook their heads before Wataru replied. “We thought he’d be coming with you guys.”

“He might be on his way with-...” Gin paused as Satsu already retrieved his cellphone, quickly sliding his fingers across the screen before pressing the device to his ear.

“Oi… Satsu!”

“...”

All eyes watched as the phone continued to ring.

“...”

“It went to voicemail…”

“What the hell? We can’t celebrate the recording wrap without him!” Nami said as she twisted her face into a pout.

“Nonsense!” Mr.Inoue shouted as he blindly began pouring a liquor concoxion into a shaker. “He’s just going to have to catch up when he finally decides to show up.”

Meanwhile….

Shino swiftly uncapped a bottle of water, nearly chugging the entire thing in a single sip as he sat hunched over in the recording studio. He gasped for air as he swiped his arm across his mouth and adjusted his headphones. His finger ridgedly made its way to the audio play button, pressing the key as he bit his lip with focus and determination.

♪♫♪

You’re an ocean’s tide.

You crashed into me like a storm.

Beautiful ocean’s tide.

You left me like the summertime.

You drifted away after fooling my trust, leaving without saying goodbye.

So far away that I could never see you again.

♪♫♪

Shino pinched the bridge of his nose as his digit slammed on the control panel, ceasing the audio from assaulting his ears again. During the past several hours he’d probably heard those lyrics tugging at his conscious over a hundred times by now.

“I must be fucking crazy...” The frustrated boy cursed out loud to himself as he peered over at his notebook that rested on the wooden stool beside him. His bloodshot eyes scanned the writing on the page as his knee began to bounce restlessly.

SNOW’s self-titled album was finally complete, after nearly a year of literal blood, sweat, and tears. Yet here he was, torturing himself over his own fucking self consciousness. On the night of the wrap party on top of that. The song was meant to be a release of his deepest thoughts into the universe, a call out to a faceless memory. A melody made for the listeners own determination.

That was until that distant memory burst to the forefront and his life stopped making sense.

The vocalist pulled the headset to rest around his neck as he pulled the notebook to his lap and clenched his pencil in his grasp. The page had become tarnished; scribbles and markings tainting his beloved lyrics while his poetic prowess continued to dwindle by the minute. As his gaze scrutinized the words he’d written, he sighed into the air.

♪♫♪

You came to my side silently.

You didn’t need my permission.

You approached me unprepared

And sang with such a beautiful voice.

I thought this was special and I dedicated myself to you, believed in you.

When I opened my eyes after giving away all my trust,

You had washed away into the ocean like the sand.

 You’re an ocean’s tide.

You crashed into me like a storm.

Beautiful ocean’s tide.

You left me like the summertime.

You drifted away after fooling my trust, leaving without saying goodbye.

Far away so that I could never see you again.

I couldn’t see ahead because of my tears and grew tired from missing you.

My heart had dried up like a fish out of water,

I was so broken and I shut everyone out.

The world’s most beautiful lie is forever.

The world’s most beautiful promise is also forever.

You’re an ocean’s tide.

You crashed into me like a storm.

Beautiful ocean’s tide.

You left me like the summertime.

You’re an ocean’s tide.

It’s okay that it wasn’t forever.

Beautiful ocean’s tide.

I know I’ll be okay after you drifted away.

You crashed into me and showed me I could live, 

even though you left me behind, leaving tears.

You’re an ocean’s tide

Beautiful ocean’s tide

Beautiful ocean’s tide

♪♫♪

His heart wrenched as he finished his countless examination of those damn lyrics. Ocean’s Tide was undoubtedly his most cherished song on the album, if not his favorite work to date. Unfortunately, there was no way in hell he could bring himself to bare his truth now that Daichi was reintroduced into his life, albeit being clear now that Daichi had no idea who he was, or worse, didn’t care. 

Another frustrated sound pushed through clenched teeth as his conflicting thoughts tore at each other, twisting the vice that pressed at his temples even tighter. Should I just leave the lyrics after all? Would Daichi even hear the song?

What if he knew the song was about him?

Shino’s stomach did violent somersaults at the mere possibility, causing him to clutch the fabric of his t-shirt. His body’s reaction was all he needed to make his final determination.

He needed to do something about this damn song tonight, even if it means the whole band would rip him a new one.

...とんとん (tap)

...とんとん (tap)

He tapped his pencil anxiously against the surface of his notebook, the sound and speed mimicking the likeness of his beating heart.

“If I my damn heart wasn’t fluttering so much, maybe I could make some progress....” Shino spoke out freely as he usually did when he was alone. Suddenly, his rapid pencil jittering came to a halt.

“Fluttering….” The boy repeated in a hushed whisper, the word lingering like a bait and hook. Gradually, his hand began to move, scrawling down the word in all its variations. Kanji, Hiragana, English, the whole page began to resemble a nonsensical makeshift dictionary, nostalgic of his journals from his childhood.

“Butterfly…”

He whispered to no one but himself as he lifted his pencil from the written Kanji.

“You’re a butterfly…” Shino sang in a gentle vocal, the words still not quite sitting right.

“Close... But-... How can I-...” He stopped himself before diving back into his notebook.

♪ “She’s a butterfly...” ♪

And the lyricist within the frantic boy began to arise from the depths of despair as he flipped the page. It’s blankness was inspiration, much like his thoughts gaining clarity.

Within the next 10 minutes, Shino had the newly branded song on paper. Now all he had to do was record the vocals, and if he were lucky, no change in the instrumentals necessary.

A few hours later…

Tozai, Possibly Midnight.

Shino had made a quick stop by the apartment to change his sweat-stained t-shirt before he finally made it to Tozai.

“I bet everyone’s pissed…” He thought as he cautiously pushed the door of the dive bar open, preparing himself for a verbal attack from his friends and bandmates.

“SHINO!” A collection of voices called out amidst the door chime from the crowd consisting of his little Yoba family.

“Well, well, well.. Look who finally decided to show up!” A plastered Mr.Inoue teased as he raised his glass in the guy’s direction.

Shino self consciously rubbed at the back of his head as his bandmates came barreling over. “Shinoooo~ We thought y-you *hic* freakin’ d-*hic* died or something!” Nami slurred, her face brimming with a drunken smirk.

“Yeah, Shi-.. We were pretty worried!” Okita laughed between his words as he slung his arm around the tall boy’s shoulders. A much awaited sense of relief washed over him seeing that his bandmates had certainly gotten far too drunk to be that upset.

“So where were you, big guy?” Wataru was the first to question as he lazily tossed his arm around Shino’s other shoulder.

“It’s… a long story.... Maybe I’ll fill you guys in after I catch up.”

--

His grip on the microphone loosened and his hand collapsed at his side as the song came to its graceful end. Wataru’s final piano notes echoed throughout the stage as the spotlights dimmed on their cue, sending the lightly panting Shino into darkness. For that brief second, he could finally allow himself to think before the eruption of applause broke out across the audience.

Like a raindrop splashing atop his cheek on the hottest day of a Seikyo summer, a feeling of regret suddenly came pouring out down.

What if I had the nerve to keep the lyr-... 

Like a roll of thunder, Shino’s band-mates had made their way from behind their instruments in a matter of seconds to join him at the center stage. Being as energetic as ever, the group came crashing against him, bumping their fists and shoulders with their infectious carefreeness that put him at ease for the moment. While the singer softly smiled at the group, he felt a purposeful nudge from Nami, her head gesturing towards the direction of applause. Hesitantly, the guy snapped to attention and poked his head towards the microphone. As the storm in his consciousness prepared to surge, he managed to get out a few words of gratitude.

“Thank you everyone, from the bottom of our hearts…”

Another swell of acclamations graced the group following Shino’s statement before they gave their final bows and headed from the stage. The sound of Kenta K and Mitsuri’s praises and bantering faded into a muffled echo as they dashed behind a curtain for a few seconds to recuperate.

“Ho-..ly-... SHIT! Shino, that was amazing!” Nami congratulated as she pulled the silently tormented boy in all directions, followed by Okita’s turn to partake in the game of Shino tug-o-war. Shino put on his best face as usual, wrapping his arms around the rambunctious pair’s shoulders in a brotherly fashion before he nodded at the quiet Wataru to get his ass over there.

“It wouldn’t have been much without you guys…”

Wataru shook his head as he bumped his fist against the vocalist’s chest. “You’re damn right, I think we all kicked some ass out there.”

The guy was right. The performance couldn’t have gone better, yet the rain clouds that brimmed with hesitations and regret was still steadily approaching. After all the trouble he’d put himself through on that sleepless night in the studio, not to mention the days he agonized before going through with his decision to ease his conscience.

As his performance soared from one crescendo to the next, not a second went by that he wasn’t picturing the boy he’d met on the beach. The one that still remained somewhere hidden in the notes that poured from the deepest places of his heart. The little Daichi that could possibly still remain in that scowling boy that probably glared at him from the gallery.

Would he still look at me like that if I-..

“Now it’s time to see what WISH is all about…” Nami interrupted his thoughts in a curious voice, peeking her head to attempt to get a view beyond the curtain. Just then, the small clip-board holding woman from earlier appeared; this time with a smile across her face. “Y-you guys were pretty great..” Quickly, she cleared her throat, shedding away her fan-girl moment to remain professional.

“Alright, follow me to the gallery. The next performance begins in 5.”

Shino sucked in a tepid breath through his nose to brace himself for what he’d have to deal with next. The vocalist made long and slow strides behind his band-mates as they made their way to the viewing gallery adjacent to the stage. His heartbeat began to throb in erratic rhythms as he perched himself at one of the four bar stools. Already, Okita and Wataru were making their idle comments of observation as they anticipated WISH’s performance.

“Look at all that equipment Kagayama has in front of him!” Okita blurted out as he tapped his hand against the quiet Shino.

“He’s gunna be using all of that?” Wataru questioned in response to Okita’s statement.

Shino couldn’t bare bringing himself to look up; even the sound of his name made his fingers twitch. With his averted gaze, he noticed a pair of shoes approach him as he suddenly felt a plushness hit his cheek.

“You were really amazing, Shino.” Satsu enthused as he applied a few touch-ups to his anemic complexion.

He managed to chuckle, glancing up as he timidly replied. “If I get anymore flattery, I think I’ll drop dead…”

The tall makeup artist shook his head, laughing as he retrieved a small comb from the styling bag at his hip. “Well, in that case, you were total shit.”

“Thanks, Satsu, that really helps too.” The boy said sarcastically just before a voice called out in the distance.

“A minute to live!”

As Satsu shifted to continue his touch ups down the line, Shino got the perfect view of center stage. Reminiscent to them a few moments earlier, WISH huddled together with their arms interlocked.

He swore he’d rather do their whole performance again in nothing but his boxers than sit through this performance. It was certainly not that he didn’t enjoy WISH’s music, but rather for the sake of maintaining his fleeting composure.

About a month before WISH had officially been signed to MUSE’s label was when Shino first heard of their existence. During one of Mr.Inoue’s drunken ramblings, he’d blurted out that MUSE was interested in a five member group and were most likely going to sign them. Shino simply shrugged before the guy heeded him with a warning. 

“Now-.. People are ‘gunna t-talk*hic*.. There’s a lotta people out t-there that’re ‘gunna compare you guysh-... Probably pit you kids a-against*hic* each other..”

His slurred forewarning was a complete mess, but he got the gist. Shino never didn’t care for what the media said, or negative comments from uneducated assumptions. The only way he’d accept the term “rival” is if they’d personally gave him a reason to.

Competition? Maybe. 

Admiration?

There wasn’t a damn thing Shino could criticize even if he wanted to. WISH’s music instilled a sense of wonder and possibility that he felt not many artists could produce these days. The uniqueness of their theme, the raw and authentic sound of the vocals; and most especially the lively instrumentals. Shino savored the mystery behind WISH until the very day he’d seen them in the auditorium.

Somehow it all made sense after the fact㇐ He wondered how he didn’t realize it was Daichi in the first place, even though he knew that would’ve been impossible.

“Alright! We’re going live in 10…”

Like a pulse, the producer began the countdown, accelerating Shino’s pounding chest into overdrive.

“5..”

His hazel eyes anxiously lifted to the stage, watching each member charging to their mark with adrenaline obviously pumping through their veins.

“3”

Shino stole the chance to fixate his gaze as Daichi slid behind the mixing board, noting his electric violin resting within arms reach.

“2…”

The blonde’s posture was relaxed and ready, his fingers moving with purpose as he pressed his headset firmly against his ear.

“1…”

“And now! Introducing our next performance!” Kenta K announced with his enthusiastic voice.

Mitsuri followed her co-host, her voice leading with anticipation.

“Please welcome..”

The pair spoke in unison as they gestured towards the group, as if eyes weren’t already glued to the stage.

“WISH!”

The audience came to a silence as an ambient melody took reign over the room, setting the tone for the performance. The strum of Inari’s guitar oscillated between Kirra’s bass tones that penetrated the chests of its listeners. Each other worldly sound lingered with Ryu’s echoing back vocals for what seemed like an eternity before fading into a pause that left the room lock and loaded with anticipation.

Inari’s opening riff kicked the song off into it’s lively core. The synthesized beat from Mina’s drum pad picked up the momentum, the electric percussion tapping in intricate patterns that Shino couldn’t help but tap his feet to. Ryu’s energetic movements commanded the stage as he marched from one side to the next, wrangling the attention of everyone in the room as their eyes follow his every step. His excitement was so infectious it made Shino wonder if he could have that kind of stage presence. Kirra’s bass became the backbone, caressing every note as her body swayed in time with her lithe fingertips.

Then there was-…

Shino’s body reacted instinctively as he leered forward in his chair, his silver eyes lidded as he watched Daichi confidently grasp his idle violin. It was like watching the end of eclipse when the blonde rested the instrument under his chin. The lights dimmed to an ambient blue against the blackness of the audience, swirling orbs of white cascaded around the stage like shooting stars. An aura fell over the entire room when the bow struck the strings like when the sun meets the horizon㇐ even SNOW could feel it.

The cold-eyed boy that Shino had become acquainted with had melted away like his emotions had been resting dormantly until he had music flowing from his fingertips. Suddenly, he felt the radiating heat in his chest flourish up his neck and settling on his face with every fiery tone.

He noticed the way his back arched into every mastered movement of his bow. How his stance shifted each time he tossed his head back when breezing through the vigorous chord progressions. It was obvious he was born to be there. The passion that exuded from the blonde when he owned the stage left Shino’s heart edging for more.

It was incredible how just watching the guy on stage had made him lose all inhibitions as he couldn’t take his eyes off the blonde for a second. Whether he was flipping his stage pedals, adjusting something at the mixing board, or simply brushing the hair from his face. The guy was utterly mesmerizing just fucking standing there.

The contrast between the person he saw on stage and the boy that scowled his way through the halls of KPA was bittersweet, yet his fascinating was steadily piquing.

What kind of person is he now… His thoughts began to roam again as the chorus of the song took over. Shino knew the only way to find out… was to actually try and talk to him. Even still, just the idea of that made his throat run dry.

As the song came to it’s climax, Ryu sauntered off to the side of the stage, leaving his echoing vocals in his wake. All eyes in the room where now on Daichi, and the guy knew it by the way his confidence planted his feet firmly at center stage. His fingers moved so effortlessly across the strings, sending the song to new heights as the solo captivated those lucky enough to hear it.

He’s… Shino thought as a shiver ran its way up his spine, sending the hairs at his neck to stand on end.

The boy’s lips parted just enough to sigh with a whisper.

“Amazing…”

It was obvious that the entire room was left energized by the electric solo by the cataclysm of applause that radiated from the audience in the aftermath. It took just about all Shino had to keep from cheering himself, causing him to realize he’d been gripping the edges of his seat nearly the entire performance. As the song started coming to its vibrant close, the vocalist began gaining back some of his self awareness. Finally, he took his eyes from the stage, glancing over at his band-mates. Luckily for him, they seemed to be just as preoccupied with the performance to notice he’d might as well of been drooling the whole time. With the final strum of Inari’s guitar, the uproarious screams and chanting had already begun as WISH had certainly left their mark on that stage. 

Shino finally loosened his fists, now feeling that previous sense of nervousness prickling at his fidgeting fingertips. His eyes began to roam frivolously, only making passing glances over the members of WISH as they came together at the front of the stage.

Kenta K’s voice rang out, quelling the applause as he attempted to speak over their cries.

“Oh.. My… God!” He said in his enthusiastic voice. Even for his TV personality, it was obvious he was impressed.

Mitsuri followed suit, clapping her hands together in a way that would rival an american cheerleader.

“Woooow~ What a performance, Am I right!?” The woman rallied the audience once again before she turned to give the members their chance to speak.

As Ryu breathlessly spoke into the microphone, Shino felt a tap on his shoulder. Startled, the guy spun his head around to see the rest of SNOW beckoning him from the gallery as they were led backstage.

“Come on, Shi!” Okita mouthed as he gestured him to follow. As Shino quickly lifted from his chair, he couldn’t help but take one last glance at the stage.

I gotta say something to him…

Anything...

[jimlingss]

Student Council Prez [11]

Episode 10 - Episode 11 - Episode 12 Words: 4.4k Genre: Fluff, Slice of Life, High School!Au The episode consists of short stories. 

Often in life, a number of things that an individual can get nervous or rather jittery about stems from the bombastic fabrication created in the mind. Sometimes things aren’t as bad as they really seem but for Sohyun, she’s sincerely worried that she might get a heart attack.

Her fist grips the strap of her new flower backpack tighter, fixing the hem of her butterfly printed dress and sweeping her ponytail from her shoulder back. With all the self-encouragement that swirls in her mind, the excitement and anxiety makes her nauseous. If it was one thing she hated, it was strangers.

And now she had to step into a whole new class of them, kids her age that she didn’t know and she wondered if they would accept her, if she would make any friends or would everyone’s eyes glue on her and would she be the ridicule of her classmates?

Her breathing becomes sporadic and she turns on her heel, ready to hide in the bathroom stalls until she musters up more courage but as she begins to take a step forward, she bumps into someone’s head. “Ow!”

“Sorry.” She mumbles, looking up.

“Sohyun?” Joonhyung’s eyes are wide as saucers but then his lips split into a grin. “What are you doing here? Are you going to this school?”

She nods. “Miss Birch?” He asks and she nods again. Joonhyung laughs and takes her hand. “That’s great! What are you so nervous for? Let’s go.”

“Wait!” She tugs him back, fixing her dress again.

“You look pretty.” He glances at her ensemble but when she raises her head and meets his eyes, he blushes. “Uh I mean, you look fine! Let’s go!”

Sohyun relaxes, finally entering the classroom where she takes a seat next to him. The teacher assigns them to sit beside each other and though the both are equally scared being at a new school, they find solace; eating lunch and playing together after. Joonhyung tries to take the lead, still holding her hand and introducing the both of them to the new kids. He stutters and blushes but still tries to keep a front and Sohyun can’t help but smile so brightly that the others warm up to her too.  

“How was school?” You ask after the first day.

She hums, taking out her new workbook. “It was good. Joonhyung’s nice.”

“Joonhyung, huh?”

“Yup!” She exclaims as she begins writing some sentences.

Little did you know, it’s a name that you’ll remember for many years.

______________________

Every morning, at the brink of dawn, Sungjae carefully crawls out of his sheets and slides on the floor all the way into the bathroom. Minimally brushing his teeth, he slips a sweater and some jeans on, tiptoeing over you and Sohyun. “What are you doing?” You groggily ask, realizing that it was still 5 am.

He freezes like an ice statue, all efforts of being discreet going to waste.

But everyday it’s the same. He makes up some sort of an excuse; that the neighbors needed his help, he wanted to get a headstart on school (which is an obvious lie), he was walking some dogs, he was trying out for a sports team and it even got to the point where he said he wanted to go on a jog for some early exercise.

If he ever did return after his mysterious disappearances, he was pale and sweaty. Yet no matter how much you interrogated him, he evaded and ran away. You tried to give him some space, wondering if he was finally entering the puberty angst phase but you couldn’t help but start becoming more and more suspicious, wondering if your uncle had influenced him or he was involved in that sort of business like you once were.

“Are you still wearing those clothes?” Jongsuk turns around, looking at Sungjae through a distasteful lense. “That’s so old. What do you think, Shinhye?”

She turns to her left, looking at him with a sort of pitiful gaze. “Well…”

“Haven’t you heard?” Jongsuk exaggerates, propping his chin in his hand, elbow on Sungjae’s desk. “Solar sweaters are in right now. Don’t you have one?”

Sungjae scoffs. “Yeah. I do. I have the most recent one.”

“You do?” Shinhye gasps and Sungjae smirks at her reaction.

“I just don’t wear it to school because it’s too fancy and might get dirty.”

Jongsuk rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, liar.”

“No I do.” He defends.

“Prove it.”

“Fine I will!”

Except the only problem was, Sungjae hadn’t even ever laid eyes on a Solar sweater in real life that wasn’t on some other kid’s body.

After school that day, he took a bus to the mall and asked the clerk in a tiny voice. When she showed it to him and walked away, he almost dropped it. It was beyond what you gave him for pocket change. He would have to save up for years!

A thought bursted into his mind and he went running out the building, nearly tripping as he chased after the bus. Thankfully they stopped and he got on, riding all the way to the flea market.

“What are you lookin’ for, son?” An older lady asks as he scans the table with clothing.

“D-do you have any Solar sweaters?”

“We sure do.” She goes to the back of the store, coming out with a whole bunch in her hands. “They’re pretty popular and look almost like the real thing!”

But Sungjae’s smile falls when he looks through the cheap sweaters. The colours are all off and the famous stitching at the bottom is all crooked and wrong. It won’t do.

“Thank you.” He says before he walks off, head slumped downwards.

When he arrived home late that night, you gave him a scolding of a lifetime. The moon was high in the sky and it was completely dark out. He was suppose to pick up Sohyun but she had to make her way home by herself after waiting an entire hour. Much to your dismay, he doesn’t give you any reasons except for meek apologies.

“Hey noona.”

“What?” You mumble, punching some numbers in the calculator and writing in the black book, used to maintain the budget. You had saved some extra money during your summer job and Yoongi’s pay hadn’t been going to nothing either. You bought new backpacks for the both of them for the new school year and was investing in a new fridge since the one you had now frequently busted.

“Can I have a bigger allowance?” Sungjae swallows nervously. “Please?”

“What for?” Your eyes lift off from the book.

“Um….just you know…”

He peers from across the table at the numbers. He knew you always cursed at how expensive the rent was for such a shitty room and that the location wasn’t even that great. The water and electricity bill wasn’t nowhere cheaper either and you were still a firm believer in insurance, so you had to split it there too. Groceries and the university saving fund for the three of you took a big chunk of the budget and whatever was left was divided into three again as pocket change.

Sungjae was both too embarrassed and prideful to admit what he really wanted. On one hand he knew you would refuse and shout at him, saying that you couldn’t afford something so dumb and idiotically luxurious. Then you would brood about it for the next few days, feeling guilty and end up forking over the cash, despite that there would be money missing from somewhere else. In turn, he would end up feeling even more guilty and the last thing he wanted was for you to go back to selling Uncle’s drugs to try to make money again.

Sungjae sighs. “Nevermind.”

For the following nights, Sungjae dreams of getting his hands on the sweater. He even imagines walking in and slyly stealing it, bringing a whole pile into the change room and slipping it on underneath his jacket; running for his life the moment he sees the door. But then he imagines getting caught and what would happen to him if he was hauled off to a juvenile detention center.

Going to school every single day is torturous for Sungjae. Jongsuk takes a good look at him each morning, turning to Shinhye. “See? He’s a liar.” And Sungjae would have to make some sort of excuse that it was in the dry cleaners or he had gotten a stain on it while making his way to school.

He even walks into the mall one day with a newfound determination to snag it off the table and dash for the hills but as he gets closer and closer…. “How may I help you?” A clerk interrupts with a dazzling smile.

“Nothing.” Sungjae nods. “Just browsing.”

She smiles and leaves.

It’s right there, in front of his face. His fingers run along the smooth knitted knots and with sweat built on his forehead, feeling like he’s going to vomit and his sight fades in and out…..he just can’t do it.

Day after day, he antagonizes until another idea pops in his head.

And so Sungjae was getting up every hour of dawn, slipping on his clothes as you questioned where he was going, wondering if he was making trouble. But in reality, Sungjae was borrowing the bike from the neighbors downstairs and riding it throughout the entire neighborhood, delivering newspaper after newspaper to every single doorstep.

It’s a hefty job but it pays well and that’s all that matters.

You don’t find out until one day, you decide to follow him. You swear he’s selling drugs or hanging out with the rough, older kids and you even bring your stick with you, ready to beat his ass when you catch him in action. But much to your surprise, he’s gasping tiredly as he bikes up the steep hill, throwing newspapers lifelessly at the doors.

When he comes back an hour later, he freezes. You’re standing at the wall with arms crossed. “I-I can explain.”

“You don’t need to.” You sigh and he swallows nervously. You walk up to him and he closes his eyes, wincing when you suddenly raise your arm. “I never knew….you would have so much responsibility Sungjae!” He flinches when you suddenly hug him, expecting a hit instead.

“Making your own money…” You ruffle his hair and he lowers his head.

You had no idea what he was possibly saving for that would make him rise so early when you literally had to haul him up on a regular day but you’re proud nonetheless. Sohyun ends up making a paper mache piggy bank in class and brings it home for him where he begins stuffing it with his bills, marking a chart of how close he is to the goal.

After three weeks, he’s only fifty dollars short but suddenly when he counts that night again, the fifty dollars magically appear. “What?”

“What’s wrong?” You ask him, eyes still on your work.

“It’s...I-...huh.” He counts again and again but it’s still there. He’s met his goal. He’s really met his goal. “I did it! I made it!”

You smile. “Is that so? Good job, Sungjae.”

He cheers, smiling and falling back onto the floor. “I did it!”

//

“So I was playing on th-”

“Ahem!” Sungjae coughs loudly and Jongsuk and Shinhye turn around in their seats.

“Woah!” Shinhye’s eyes are big as saucers and even Jongsuk almost leaps out of his chair. “Is that the latest Solar sweater?”

“Told you I had it.” Sungjae raises his eyebrows smugly to Jongsuk who can’t stop staring.

Sungjae gains the interest of all the students, everyone crowding around his desk as he flaunts off the sweater. Even though it’s meaningless and materialistic, getting attention for only a few days, a few kids stick around him; learning that he really wasn’t so bad after all. From that day onwards Sungjae no longer gets called ‘the poor kid’ anymore and maintains a comfortable position in the classroom, no longer isolated. Though Jongsuk still brushes him off, they become closer friends still bickering back and forth. Most of all, Sungjae retains a sort of self-confidence that he really can achieve the things he wants if he works hard enough.

A meaningless sweater brought him two irreplaceable things that lasts his entire life; a best friend and a belief in his own strength.

______________________

The sun angled in the sky, he watches as the students leave the campus with hands behind his back, proudly standing with a giant smile. The classical music dramatically plays in the background, rebounding off the walls in his big office. “Isn’t this academy the best in the world?” Mr. Min chuckles to himself.

“Yes Principal Min. I couldn’t agree more.” Mr. Lee nods. “Especially now that our scholarship student is excelling.”

Mr. Min finds interest, swivelling around on his toes and plopping in his big chair. “Do tell me more.”

“Well, she’s still enrolled in our school, attending every single class. The students have also seemed to accept her and she’s well acquainted with the Student Council Members. For the finals she scored in the twenty fourth placement. She’s in the high eightieth percentile!” Mr. Lee announces with a smile.

“That’s absolutely fantastic!” Mr. Min exclaims, leaning back in his chair with an overwhelming grin, spinning around with a big laugh. “You know! I knew I saw something in her when I was looking at the applications!”

“But…”

“But?” He stops his chair, clasping his hands together on his desk.

Mr. Lee clears his throat uncomfortably, shifting on his feet. “She seems fairly close to your son.”

He purses his lips in curiosity, tilting his head. “Is that so?”

Mr. Lee takes a step forward. “I mean...fairly close with your son.”

“I see.” He returns to spinning around in his chair.

“Are you not worried?” Mr. Lee frowns. With the difference in Yoongi and your social economic placements, the social standard norms, the levels of wealth and background in general, it was considered to be disgraceful to even be friends. It wasn’t like Mr. Lee had anything against you, he’s only met you once but the high class normalities he was used to, it shocked him incredibly. He didn’t know what was going on exactly between the two of you but he caught wind of rumours and every time he saw you or Yoongi, the other was always attached to the side, an automatic pair.

“Why should I be?” Mr. Min stops, coming to a stand and peering out his colossal glass windows. “That boy’s never listened to a word I said and he’s not one to follow anyone’s orders. Even if I was worried, there’s nothing I can do about it.” He turns around with a glint in his eyes and he roars more laughter deep from his chest. “If anything I’m pleasantly surprised and impressed. I’ve always been worried that girls would go running for the hills with a personality like his. If I’m picky, he’ll definitely never get married!”

Mr. Lee sighs. “Well alright, that’s one way to look at it. I understand.”

Mr. Min stands and stretches, twisting his back and relieving the ache with multiple cracks in his spine. “What a long day it’s been.”

“Are you still sleeping in that closet of yours?” Mr. Lee frowns.

Off to one side of the luxurious office was a door; a small closet with a single bed inside and a rack that he hung his suit on. There was also another door that connected to a tiny bathroom with a one stall shower, a sink and a toilet. “I am.” Mr. Min chuckles. “It’s just easier for my commute. I don’t have to go anywhere at all!”

“What about your house?”

“It’s still there in good shape!”

“And your son? Shouldn’t you at least go see him?”

“He comes by everyday! Usually to complain or demand an increased budget but nonetheless, we still get that quality son-father bonding time.” He chuckles. Ever since his wife and mother left abroad, he didn’t really find a use to going back home. He loved the school so much and he didn’t mind sleeping in the small room, it was sort of comfortable and rather cozy.

Mr. Lee sighs. “Well alright. Please, go home any time you feel like it.”

Mr. Min chuckles, waving a goodbye before he disappears inside his closet and Mr. Lee sighs again.

A white envelope lies in Namjoon’s backpack, slid between his advanced physics textbook and hidden away from his grandparents’ prying eyes. Inside the envelope consists of a letter, a very important letter that makes Namjoon unable to sleep at night. An envelope with a letter and a very important decision to make.

“I hope you will really consider this opportunity.” The older professor nods his head over the Skype chat. “We would love to have an exceptional young student like you aboard our research team.”

“Thank you. I will really take it into account.” Namjoon smiles.

During summer, Namjoon took an internship at a university and his outstanding intelligence was immediately taken notice of. Another university abroad caught wind of it and wanted him to join their team; paying for all the expenses and letting him skip two entire semesters if he were to enroll in their programs. It was a spectacular opportunity, one that if his grandparents knew, would immediately jump on it. But Namjoon knew it was a decision that he would have to make and no one else.

It was great but on the other hand, he would have to completely skip the rest of school. He would miss his graduation and ceremony, his entire youth but most importantly, the other members. Namjoon understood that if the others heard about it, they would urge him to go but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his friends behind.

His entire life, he had been isolated. From birth, doctors recognized the glint of geniusness in him and he was tutored alone in his mansion; every few weeks with a new professor that would only end up quitting, feeling inferior to young Namjoon and his wide knowledge. But for that, Namjoon spent his childhood alone in his room and around the gardens, wishing to be a normal child. His intelligence became more of a curse than a blessing.

It took years for Namjoon to get enrolled in a regular school after begging his parents.

He could’ve gone to university long ago, used his brain for research and real world ingenuity. But this was his life and efficient or not, he wanted to live it happily. Being stuck in a science lab at the age of twelve would have never made him happy in any world.

But even when he went to school, he was still ostracized or rather, put on a higher pedestal than everyone else. They revelled him as a genius and even teachers felt uncomfortable.

It wasn’t until he went to the academy, Jimin knocking into him and making him fall in a puddle of mud to Hoseok leaping up on his desk suddenly and screaming; to Yoongi scoffing at his profuse knowledge while calling it useless and not very useful for real world situations, did he finally find a place. They didn’t care how smart he was and they didn’t use him, frankly they didn’t even understand and could care less. Jin inquired about his cleaning abilities while Taehyung asked if he could fish at all or kill a wild bear with his bare hands. Jungkook even called him dumb when he accidentally knocked over an entire bottle of ammonia in a lab.

Dumb: that was something Namjoon was never called in his entire existence.

And just like that, he found a group of friends that stood by him no matter what.

But now he was presented with yet another choice.

-

Namjoon’s hand shakes and sweat drips from his forehead as he pulls open the door. He feels pale and unwell, like he might throw up. But as he enters, he is be smacked right in the face with some cardboard. “What the hell?”

“IT WORKS!” Taehyung exclaims, marvelling at his invention. It was a stick wrapped in a big spring and tapped cardboard put over the door, so whenever someone opened it, they would smacked in the face with the device.

“What?! Why?”

Jimin laughs. “He wants to put a pie there eventually to pie people.”

Taehyung pouts. “But the whip cream keeps slipping off and the cardboard gets soggy.”

Jungkook snags the three bottles of whip cream off the table and shakes it, squeezing all three into his mouth at the same time. “Hey! Stop eating it!”

“Why don’t you just wrap the cardboard in like...I don’t know….sandpaper or some tape? Something sticky or gritty to restrict it from falling?”

Taehyung’s eyes light up and he dashes out the room. Jimin laughs again, hugging Namjoon from behind. “You’re a genius Joon! What would we go without you?” He quickly runs after Taehyung.  

Namjoon touches the contraption, experimenting how it bounces and the amount of maximum force it could exert. But then, it completely falls off the wall and onto the floor, splitting into two.

Jungkook eyes grow wide. “Ooohhh. You’re gonna get in trouble~ Do you know how long those two have worked on that for?”

“What’s going on here?” Jin enters, looking at the huge mess on the table. There’s construction paper everywhere, bits littering the floor and glue stuck to the wood. Jungkook is a stone statue, pretending to be a mannequin with the bottles of whip cream still in his hand. “Are you an idiot Jungkook?! I can see you! Put that down! What are you doing putting sugar into your body this early in the morning?!”

“What’s happening?” Yoongi comes in, dragging a pouting Hoseok on his back.

“Uhh..” Namjoon holds the stick in his hand.

“NOOOOO! WHAT HAPPENED?!” Taehyung rushes back in with supplies in his hand, looking at the broken contraption on the floor.

Jimin’s face flushes out colour. “Did you do this?”

“Uhhh…”

“It’s not my fault!” Jungkook suddenly shouts, putting down the bottles of whip cream. “It’s really not my fault this time! Those two were making a slapping device and I came into the middle of this mess. Namjoon was the one who broke it. It wasn’t me.” And with that, Jungkook bolts out the room at the speed of light, whip cream still all over his lips.

“You idiot...Namjoon...you big idiot.” Taehyung sobs as he falls to the floor, spilling everything in his hands to the ground. Meanwhile, Jin pops his head out the room, screaming at Jungkook to get back. Hoseok leans over to Namjoon, hugging him while still latched onto Yoongi, making him grumble and shout.

“You saved us!” Hoseok chimes with a smile as Yoongi continues to shout and Taehyung fake sobs. Jimin takes the whip cream and puts it all over Jin’s hair, making him scream even further.

It’s absolute chaos.

Namjoon’s never felt more at home.

//

“I’m sorry, I really have to reject your offer.”

The professor sighs. “Well, I’m glad you considered it. Please feel free to contact me again if you change your mind anytime soon.” Namjoon nods but the professor smiles, a slight silence drawing out. “It might not really be my place to ask but what made you want to stay?”

Namjoon breathes in, contemplating for a moment. “Finding normalcy and childlike silliness is difficult to come across in my life, I’ve realized. I can’t give it up.”

The professor chuckles. “Indeed.”

______________________

The two girls are kilometers from each other but still chatting endlessly on their cell phones, finding it easier to communicate than texting chunks and giant passages. It was easy to say that they were the closest of the bunch and the kindest, showing more compassion than their fellow, rather vicious, friends. “Hey…” Hyeri’s voice gets serious. “There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

“What is it?” Minah frowns slightly.

“It’s about Hara…”

“What about her?”

“Aren’t you kind of….tired of her?” Hyeri asks. “I mean...she treats you so badly. It’s the worst out of all of us. Haven’t you noticed?”

There’s a long drawn out silence before Minah speaks again, conjuring up some nervous laughter. “Of course I’ve noticed...but it’s understandable...I mean I’m not that pretty and my dad’s company isn’t doing too well eithe-”

“No!” Hyeri interrupts. “Don’t say that! You know it’s not true and it definitely isn’t a good enough reason for her to treat you so badly! You’re pretty and who cares about your dad’s business!”

“She treats everyone badly.” Minah deadpans.

Hyeri sighs frustratedly. “Yeah but we’re suppose to be her friends. She shouldn’t treat us badly…..she’s just so..ugh. Remember what she did to Y/N?”

Minah giggles. “Yeah. But Y/N got her revenge back perfectly. I’ve never seen someone so pale before, much less Hara. Hara’s so scared of her now, she won’t even talk about her.”

Hyeri eases, laughing too. “Well she deserves it. I’m getting tired of Hara’s antics. She can’t keep it up forever and I’m definitely not staying around for that long.”

Minah hums in agreement. “Speaking of which, have you seen Y/N around? She’s always with Yoongi and the other members.”

“Yeah, duh. I’m not blind.” Hyeri rolls onto her stomach, voice turning into a soft whisper. “Do you think they’re dating?”

“Well, they have to be, right? They’re so close.” Minah laughs. “Don’t tell anyone this…..but I actually think they’re kind of cute together.”

“Oh my god. Don’t. even. get. me. started.” Hyeri gasps out in a giggle that’s infectious to Minah. “They are so cute together. I totally ship them.”

She laughs again. “They’re really cute. Like you would think that because both of them are so prickly and cold that they would clash…”

“...but they don’t!” Hyeri screeches out. “Like once I saw them walking off…”

The two girls continue chatting, gossipping on the events and scandals going around school to the celebrity world. The night continues to transpire until they repeat their goodnights, crashing onto their beds.

The city continues to move, each story unraveling at their own paces and more and more, yours has just begun.

[prorevenge]

Dont mess with the guy you're cheating off of

(Not sure if this is pro-revenge or petty, but I feel like its Pro)

Here`s a story of why you don’t piss off the smart kid. I went to a Catholic High School, and as such we were required to take a Religion class each year. So freshman year, the class was History of the Church, not exactly an easy subject, but easy enough if you just study a little.

Now there were about 30 kids in my class, and it was assigned seating, so I was placed in the back of the room. I didn’t mind, i did my homework and passed the tests, so i could just chill in the back of the room for the whole class. So come time for the next test, I had studied, so i was breezing through it. (The test format was half T/F and half multiple choice) So even if you didn’t know anything you still had a chance of passing. The teacher is patrolling the room to look for cheaters, when he goes by my row and gets out of earshot, I hear a little call to get my attention. Its the guy next to me, he needs help. Sure okay, Im a nice guy and Ive been known to cheat in the past. So I slide my answer sheet to the side of my desk since I had finished by that time. (There was the question paper and a scantron for the answers, but we were allowed to right on the question paper as well) So i turn my paper over, and slide the Scantron to where he would be able to see it and make it not obvious I was cheating. Come the end of the class and he thanks me. No big deal.

Flash forward a few weeks to the next test.

Same deal, I finish quick and then he asks for help and I comply. I didn’t really like the guy, but I didnt hate him either. Whatever. We both pass and that’s that. However what I didnt know at the time, was that after the second test he was bragging that he was cheating off of me during the test to other guys in the class. So then they asked him to share his/my answers after I had given them. The third test comes and goes and at this point I still think im only helping one person.

So come the fourth test and hes feeling a little bold. He asks me to leave my name off of the question sheet and just mark the right answers. And after the teacher passes by we’ll swap the papers since I already have my answers recorded. I’m not thrilled at this, but whatever, its just one person. Except it wasn’t. It was 7 people this time. Fine whatever. If they had asked me beforehand I probably would’ve helped them anyway. But they took advantage of my kindness. And so I let it slide during test #5 but my annoyance was still there. The chain had clearly grown from 7 people to 15 people. I didn’t particularly care if I was helping them pass a class, but then one day, one of the a**hole kids in that chain of people in my class thought they could mess with me and get away with it clean. And that was the last straw. I asked my friend in the class to be careful on the next test. He knew me well, and he knew what was going on. He was well aware of how mischievous I really am. So I told him to tell the 4 people in my class that I liked to actually study for the next test. And it was a big one. It was a double chapter test.

So I studied my ass off, and went into the test like everything was just normal. And after some light probing, I found that nobody else except for me and my 5 had studied for this and the ENTIRE CLASS was going to be relying solely on me to let them pass this big test.

Score!

So I put on my happy face and told them not to worry, it was business as usual. And so I finished my test, filled out my scantron and flipped it over. And then I handed it off, with every single answer marked wrong. Except for the very last one. I also told him to have him fill out his paper and switch it as well to spread it through the chain faster.

Checkmate.

A few days passed and it was time to get our tests back. My teacher comes in holding 6 papers in one hand, and the rest in the other hand. He then called up me and my 5 friends up, gave us our tests and gave us a pass to go to the library for the rest of class. As I picked up my things I said one thing that went unnoticed by the teacher.

“Thanks Joe for this …” (not the a**hole kids actual name)

Turns out the teacher chewed them all out for cheating and they tried to pin it on me, but I had passed the exam. Furthermore had the foresight to make sure they changed one or two answers on previous tests so it wouldn’t be exactly the same answers. I did this,so that if our answers were compared, they wouldn’t be identical like cheaters would. So when the teacher looked back at my tests to see if the class,was right, they got into more trouble for trying to frame me.

All in all they got a week of detention, and the lost the opportunity for a retake on the test that I got a 98 on. Their overall class average dropped about 10 points and mine actually raised 2 points. They really screwed themselves over with this.

They tried to gang up on me after school, but I was untouchable. I was always within sight of a teacher, and all of the teachers absolutely loved me. I was a perfect angel (even though i was chaos incarnate in that school). And even if i wasn’t within sight of a teacher, i also had the combinations to their lockers, as well as other things. If they did anything to me, they didn’t know what might happen to their stuff.

So they didn’t attack me, but the class remembered what I had said, and then they ganged up on the a**hole that led to the chain reaction. Wasn’t my problem anymore.

(Side note: the school wont allow any locker changes or lock switches, so they were trapped)

(submit your pro revenge story) (story by anime-andsomeotherstuff)