#sitting in this modern ass co working space

[mirdaniaa]

Showed up to my meeting 45 minutes early because everyone else in the meeting decided while I was already in transit to push back the meeting time, do u guys want to send me asks to distract me while I sit here like a moron

[dudeandduchess]

Love your writing! Can we get a history teacher AU? Maybe with some NSFW 👀 fellow teacher y/n always had the hots for Rengoku-sensei but never had the courage to say anything until one day, on his birthday, she finds him alone grading papers and everything just comes out

Hope you’re doing well!

Hey, bby! I’m doing well. Hope you like this one. ❤️‍🔥

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: After School Hours (Smut, Modern AU, NSFW Scenario)

Warnings: Smut, Semi-Public Sex (Library), Clothed Sex, Birthday Sex, Food Play (Body Icing)

Read part 2 here.

***

(Y/n)’s hands were so shaky as she tried her best to get herself from the faculty room, down to the library on the second floor. To say that she was frazzled and nervous would have been an understatement, as she had chosen that day to finally confess her feelings to the enigmatic History teacher— Rengoku Kyōjurō.

She had always harbored feelings for the blond, ever since she had first started at the academy. And even though the other teachers always kept teasing them about being too close to each other— as well as the other women telling her that he liked her— she still held on to the possibility that they were wrong.

After all, it was better to expect the worst; so that she wouldn’t be that disappointed when she received the truth.

The closer that she got to the library, however, the harder that her heart began to pound in her chest. And the more that she began to think that she shouldn’t be so bold.

She had even thought to turn back immediately, only to be plagued by thoughts of her regrets haunting her once she got home. (Y/n) didn’t want all of the ‘what-ifs’ from this one choice to haunt her forever.

After all, the worst that he could do was to thank her and give her a friendly hug.

At that thought, she quickly shook her head— clearing the worst case scenario from her mind— before pushing her legs to walk faster to the empty library.

She only knew that it was empty after having seen Kyōjurō stay there after class on most days. He would grade papers until the school closed down, instead of taking his work home with him.

And after asking him once why he preferred the library, he told her that it was the perfect place to do work; all because the students who did have tiny crushes on him never thought to check for him all the way at the back of the place.

‘Oh gods, I may just be worse than those students,’ (Y/n) thought in a panic, almost dropping the cupcake in her hands. But she managed to right herself at the last second, taking a deep breath in through her nose and exhaling it from her mouth.

“Okay, calm down, (Y/n).” The young woman tried to soothe herself, even going as far as to close her eyes for a brief moment, before stepping inside the library as quietly as she could.

One foot in front of the other— she kept making her legs move, until she was at the end of the aisle that led to the tables at the back of the library.

And right there, in all his handsome glory, was Kyōjurō— pen being twirled between his fingers, and eyes focused solely on the paper in his left hand.

Gingerly, (Y/n) fished the lighter from her skirt’s pocket and lit the tiny candle that she had stuck in the middle of the cupcake; one she’d baked the night before, and decorated with so many intricate designs— all for him.

“Rengoku-sensei,” She called softly, her voice even cracking at his name. Yet it had the blond looking up at her— eyes widening a fraction of an inch, while his lips curled up at the corners.

Kyōjurō felt absolutely flustered.

Especially when (Y/n) walked forward with the cupcake, eyes solely on him to block out the nerves that were trying to consume her.

Thankfully for her, he met her halfway; standing right in front of her, and turning all of his attention towards the woman who made his heart race— in the best way.

“Happy birthday, I baked it just for you,” (Y/n) managed to breathe out softly, before holding it up a little higher for him.

And her heart almost leapt out of her chest when Kyōjurō reached out with his right hand and gently wrapped it around her wrist— holding her shaky hands steady, as he leaned in and blew the candle out.

“Thank you, (Y/n)-sensei. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for me,” Kyōjurō stated with a grin, even as his eyes momentarily flickered down to his co-teacher’s plump lips.

He was naught to admit it, but he had racked up so many nights just fantasizing about those lips on him; on any part of his body.

At first it had started as a simple crush for him, but it had evolved into something else; something much deeper than simple attraction. However, what the other male teachers had told him was that she already had someone she liked, so he had held himself back from confessing his own feelings.

Which was a surprise that she even sought him out on his birthday, when he fully expected her to have gone home with everyone else— as he wanted to finish work before celebrating with his family.

“I wanted to…” (Y/n) answered quietly, before swallowing past the lump in her throat and coming out with it. “Because I like you, Rengoku-sensei. I like you so much that I can’t get you out of my mind- and I- just… I want you!”

Mortified couldn’t even begin to describe just how (Y/n) felt at that botched confession. She could even feel her shame washing over her in waves; making her face and ears red, especially when she looked up and saw nothing but surprise on Kyōjurō’s face.

Instead of pushing her away like she had expected, the blond calmly took the cupcake from her hands and set it down on the table. All before closing the space between them, and staring right at her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that he looked a little… excited.

Gone was his exuberant attitude, and in its place came something much more attractive; a million times sexier than his usual persona.

“That’s great, (Y/n)-s… chan. Because I like you too… and I want you just as bad.” Kyōjurō finally admitted, feeling his own pulse racing as he gently cupped her face in his hands and leaned in to press his lips to hers.

When (Y/n) didn’t try to pull away from him, Kyōjurō decided to be a little more liberal with his touches; pulling her flush against his chest, before awkwardly spinning both of them around, so that he could sit her down on the table.

Thankfully, they had missed the cupcake entirely. Because a lightbulb just went on in his head, as he gently wedged himself between her thighs and began to caress her soft skin.

With every pass of his hands up her thighs, he pushed the hem of her skirt up little by little— making no effort to hide what his intentions were.

“I’ve always liked you, (Y/n).” A gentle kiss to her lips, before dragging his lips down to her neck and sucking on it. “And I’m so happy that you have the same feelings.”

If it was any other woman, Kyōjurō never would have touched them. But it was (Y/n), and he had been holding himself back for two years; that alone was torture for him, so he couldn’t keep himself from indulging in her immediately.

Before either of them could comprehend it, (Y/n) was already on her back on the table, with Kyōjurō kissing down her exposed chest and his fingers circling around her clit.

All the while, (Y/n) was in such bliss that she couldn’t even muster up any coherent thoughts. All she could do was moan and mewl as Kyōjurō kissed her all over.

When he pulled away for a bit, however, she was brought back to reality; keen eyes solely on him, as he reached over and swiped a little bit of the cupcake’s icing on his index finger.

Initially, she thought that it was weird for him to stop for a taste of that, until she realized his plan when he dabbed the icing on both of her nipples.

It was a little bit warm, but it was made all the warmer when Kyōjurō wrapped his lips around her right nipple; licking and sucking on the hard bud, while his index finger circled and teased the other one.

“Rengoku-sensei!” The young woman moaned out, one hand delving into his hair and curling into the soft strands. But Kyōjurō didn’t relent; not until her back was arching and her legs were wrapped around his hips.

It was obvious that she was cumming, and it gave Kyōjurō an all-time high at feeling her come apart beneath him. Especially since he wasn’t even inside her yet.

When she was calm and spent beneath him, the blond pulled away from her right nipple— making quick work of licking her left nipple clean— before pecking her lips.

“Do you want more, (Y/n)?” He asked with a grin, feeling his cock throb in his pants at how beautiful she looked post-orgasm.

He expected her to refuse, but was pleasantly surprised when she shook her head. “Please give me more.”

“Good girl.” The praise had just slipped out and made his lips tingle, but he paid it no mind as he quickly undid his belt and pants to pull his cock out.

Then, as gently as he could, he pulled her ass to the end of the table before pushing her skirt up all the way; groaning aloud at the sight of her panties being so soaked with her cum.

What made it better for him, however, was the fact that she was wearing red lace. As if she had worn it just for him.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it though— cock twitching with need, as he fully pushed the crotch of her panties aside and rubbed the tip of his dick up and down her slit.

“Please, sensei, no more teasing,” (Y/n) whined quietly, which only spurred Kyōjurō to give in to her.

So, slowly, he dragged the head of his cock all the way to her entrance and pushed inside her tight cunt. He almost buckled at how heavenly she felt around him, but held firmly to her hips before bottoming out in her.

His pace was gentle at first, getting her used to how thick he was, before beginning to really pound her against the table. He pushed in hard and fast, milking his own pleasure and adding to it by watching her expressions.

Because, it was guaranteed, that his current reality was better than all of his fantasies combined.

And it was made all the better with how he watched (Y/n) lose control— especially when he lifted her legs up onto his shoulders and held on tight to her ankles.

He just hoped that marks wouldn’t show up later, since he still had plans for both of them; mainly taking her home to meet his family.

***

BONUS:

After everything was said and done, with Kyōjurō’s cum slowly trickling out from (Y/n)’s cunt, he pulled her up to his chest— hugging her tight and pressing butterfly kisses to her neck. “You should get dressed, (Y/n). We have to go home with me.”

“But… why?” The young woman was confused, but she was too boneless after getting thoroughly fucked that her question fell flat.

“So that my family can meet my girlfriend, of course.”

“What? We just- I’m- Rengoku-sensei!” That had pulled (Y/n) out of her stupor immediately. Then, she hissed at him, “I’m still full of your cum! I can’t meet your parents like this!”

“I can lick it clean for you.” Kyōjurō was joking, he really was… at least at first. But he thought that eating her out wouldn’t be so bad. So, they stayed just a little bit longer in the library; much to (Y/n)’s chagrin.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 23}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was torn.

Half of her thought that Cassian was overreacting, but the other half of her thought that his anger and frustration was perfectly justified.

What exactly were they getting into? And, was it what was best for Nyx? Yeah, the last month had been great, but if it didn’t work out, what would that mean for him? Would it be better if she and Cassian had simply remained two friends, co-parenting under one roof?

Nesta’s heart began to beat a little faster.

She felt like she was going into a panic attack.

Cassian and Nyx had been gone for an hour, and every second that passed became more and more unbearable.

She needed him to be there.

She needed to figure this out.

She just didn’t know what the answer was.

Alis had gotten into her head, there was no doubt about that. A little over an hour ago, she was living in a dream, then Alis came in, out of nowhere, and brought her back to reality.

She was sitting on the couch, almost exactly where he’d left her, when he finally returned. He was covered in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. Nyx was having a conversation with him, more to himself though, since it didn’t seem like Cassian was even close to paying attention to him. But his eyes went directly to Nesta as soon as he walked in.

She’d changed. She no longer wore his t-shirt, instead in a loose shirt of her own and a pair of jeans, and her hair was loose and wet around her face. As if she’d need to shower their night together, shower him off of her. Not a shred of that beautiful skin was showing, not like she’d been doing lately. Leggings and shorts and tank tops. She’d been comfortable around him.

With a scoff, Cassian set Nyx down on the floor. He headed for the stairs, but Nesta stood, nearly toppling the cup of coffee she’d been clutching over as she set it on the coffee table. “Cassian, we need to talk about this.”

He paused, waving a hand towards her. “What for? It looks like you’ve already made your decision.”

“I need you to calm down,” she said, steadily. “I need you to think logically.”

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me.”

Nesta hesitated. “Tell you what?”

“If this is something you want to pursue or if I just wasted the last couple months falling in love with you,” he finished.

His voice may have lacked emotion, but Nesta felt every word like a stab in the chest. Falling in love with you. Those were the words she was going to tell him today, under much different circumstances.

Now, she didn’t know what to think.

Now, she was overwhelmed.

Now, all of her thoughts were rushing toward the same spot in the middle of her skull at a thousand miles an hour, and when they got there, her head would explode.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“But it should be,” Cassian said. “If you feel the way that I do, it should be that easy.”

“We have to think of Nyx,” she breathed.

“I am thinking of Nyx,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. At the sound of his name, the baby turned to look at him. “I want him to grow up in a happy home, seeing two people who love each other, and damn it if that isn’t how it’s been for the past few weeks.”

“It’s not that simple,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “What happens if we break up? What happens if we get in a fight or something happens to one of us? What then?”

He had strode down the stairs and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He framed her face in his hands, like he had so many times the past month, to kiss her, to make love to her, to show her how he cared for her. “Why are you worrying about the what if’s? Why are you worrying about what could go wrong, rather than how right everything has been?”

Because everything goes wrong eventually. The only reason we’re together is because we were shoved into this house after the worst thing imaginable happened. They died. We took over. What right do we have to be happy?

The words flooded her mind, but stilled on her tongue.

Nesta didn’t push him away. She wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him, softly, but she didn’t.

Instead, she met his gaze. “Cass,” she breathed.

The pain in his eyes nearly shattered her heart into a million pieces.

Nyx had walked up to them and was hugging Nesta’s leg, as if he knew that she needed the comfort.

“Dont say my name like that,” he whispered.

Nesta slowly shook her head. “I just think this has all happened too quickly. We haven’t been thinking, we’ve just been acting-.”

“You’re pushing me away,” Cassian interrupted, swallowing harshly. “Damn it, Nesta.”

“You don’t understand,” she pleaded.

“Because you’re not making sense,” he argued. “Things have been perfect—”

“They’re dead!” She cried, pulling from his grip, scooping Nyx up. “Things have been far from perfect. We’re only like this now because Rhys and Feyre are dead.”

The words seemed to freeze something inside of Cassian and he stepped back as well. “So what? We go back to how we used to be? I’m back in the guest room and we awkwardly exchange good mornings over breakfast?”

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of him, the scent of him, everything. “I don’t know, Cassian, I don’t—.” She took a shuddering breath, her arms wrapping tighter around Nyx. “I just need some time to think, to breathe…”

When she looked back up at him, his jaw was set and he was slowly nodding. “Fine. Take your time.”

And then he was moving, back up the stairs before Nesta could even ask what he was doing.

A few minutes later, he was back with a duffle bag in his hands.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Giving you space,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.

Nesta opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging open, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach into her heart, which was beating far too quickly.

Cassian kissed Nyx on the forehead as he passed, but paid Nesta no mind as he went for the door.

“Cassian!” She called, at last.

Cassian stopped just in front of the door, keeping his back to her, one hand on the doorknob.

“You're just going to leave?” She asked, quietly, bouncing a sleepy Nyx on her hip. “Just like that?”

Cassian didn’t turn around. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”

Yes. No. I don’t know. Nesta said nothing.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grumbled, exhaustion lacing his tone. “Maybe I need time to think, too.”

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him.

*

He didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He knew where he wanted to be, but right now…

He couldn’t look at her.

It didn’t escape him that when he’d told her he’d fallen in love with her, she didn’t say it back. He couldn’t even act like he hadn’t seen her eyes flare in panic. So he couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t go back to sleeping in that guest room, not when he’d become so used to sleeping with her in his arms every night.

So Cassian had ended up here, knocking on his brother’s door, thankful that his car had been parked in the driveway when he pulled up.

He needed a drink. He needed someone to tell him he was being an asshole. He needed someone to listen while he vented and bitched. He knew Azriel would do all that for him.

When he answered the door, Seph was in his arms, pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled when she saw Cassian, but Azriel’s surprised smile quickly faded.

“Do I want to know?” He asked, looking at the duffel bag tossed over Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Azriel stared at him for a second before stepping aside and letting Cassian pass.

“Are we talking about this now or later?” Azriel asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Beer?” Cassian asked, dropping his bag beside the couch.

“Fridge,” Azriel said, slowly, watching him.

Cassian made his way to the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, grabbing a cold bottle and chugging its contents.

Azriel followed, leaning against the countertop and Seph continued to play with his lips.

“Where’s Elain?” Cassian asked, tossing the empty bottle into the trash and getting another.

“Work,” Azriel said, sighing. “So, if this involves smack talking Nesta, you may want to get it out now.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to do that, barely wanted to think about her. But he owed Azriel at least some explanation.

“The social worker stopped by this morning,” he sighed, leaning back against the counter and opening the beer. “And honestly, yeah, it was unexpected, but I figured it’d be fine. Last time, Nes was drunk off her ass, but we— I figured, since we were more of a family this time, things would be great.”

Azriel blinked. “They’re not taking Nyx, are they?”

Another shake of his head. “No, gods, no. They— She could tell he was in good hands, but she immediately picked up on Nesta and I. What we’ve…become.”

It seemed, just like Cassian, Azriel didn’t see it as a problem. He wasn’t following. “And?”

“And Nyx was hungry so I left the social worker and Nesta alone to get him breakfast. I came back and she’s gone and Nesta is second-guessing our relationship. She asked if I’m just fucking her out of convenience.”

The thought made him sick to his stomach, almost as badly as it hurt his heart.

“And you replied with…” Azriel began, trailing off, waiting for Cassian to finish the sentence.

“I went for a jog,” Cassian said, shrugging.

“So you ran away?” Azriel pushed.

Cassian shot him a look. “No. I went for a jog.”

Azriel sighed. “And when you came back?”

“She said she needed space,” Cassian said, emptying his bottle.

Azriel set Seph on the floor with a plastic spatula, which she instantly start banging on the cabinets. “And that’s when you ran away?”

“I didn’t run,” Cassian snapped. “I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space.”

Azriel slowly shook his head. “Did you even try to talk things out?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, the word clipped. “Told her I was falling in love with her, and guess how she replied?”

Azriel watched his brother.

“Didn’t say a fucking word,” Cassian finished.

When Azriel didn’t speak, he walked back to the trash can, dropping the bottle inside.

“Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here,” he said, unable to turn around and look his brother in the eye. “She was ending it. She was calling things off and I’m supposed to, what? Just keep living there like we were before? Pretend nothing has changed?” He swallowed hard, willing the damn tears clouding his vision to fade. They wouldn’t. “She didn’t even ask me to stay.”

Azriel sighed, opening a cabinet beside the fridge that Seph couldn’t reach. He produced a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter. “I can’t drink until Elain gets home. And I absolutely think you need to talk to Nesta, but I think you’re right. You need to stay here tonight. Give her space.”

Cassian blinked, and a tear that was holding on slid free, down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He felt ridiculous, but it had been a long time since he had told a woman that he loved her. He’d never said it in his adulthood. A couple times in his teens, before he knew what the word really meant, but never as an adult.

He’d said it.

He’d meant it.

And she hadn’t felt the same.

Cassian nodded and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

*

Nesta stared at Cassian’s contact on her phone screen.

She wanted to press the call button, but didn’t.

She did open a blank text a few times, but couldn’t type anything.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Cassian.

But, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

She had never been one who was dependent on a man, had spent most of her twenties single and having no problem with it. But suddenly, she couldn’t imagine her day to day life without Cassian in it. And that terrified her.

She heard murmuring on the baby monitor sitting next to her on the side table and glanced over to see Nyx sitting up in his crib.

It had been nearly three hours since Cassian left, and aside from putting Nyx down for a nap, Nesta had barely moved. She still sat in the same spot on the couch she’d been in when the social worker had shown up and when she’d ignored that Cassian had said that he loved her.

The words should have filled her with joy and she should have screamed from the rooftops that she loved him, too. Instead she locked up and thought she was going to be sick.

What was wrong with her?

Wiping away the tears she didn’t even realize had fallen, Nesta hurried up the stairs, and into Nyx’s nursery. He reached for her the moment he saw her, his own big, blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“What’s wrong, bubba?” She cooed, resting his head against her shoulder.

After a deep sigh, he looked up at her and reached for a tear that had fallen down her cheek. His lip began to wobble.

“I’m okay,” Nesta promised, even though her voice cracked and those tears continued. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise.”

Nyx knew, though.

He knew something wasn’t right.

He knew Cassian was gone.

He knew Nesta was heartbroken.

Little did he know that her heartbreak was self-inflicted.

Nyx laid his head back on her shoulder and clung to her. He stayed like that as she walked back downstairs and sat back in her spot on the couch.

He held onto her, looking around the room. She knew he was looking for him and was about to tell him he wasn’t here when he spoke. The word wasn’t a mash up of noises like it had always been. No, it was a true and steady word. His first word.

“Dada?”

Nesta froze. She didn’t even know what to say. Should she tell him Cassian wasn’t his father? He probably wouldn’t even understand, just like he didn’t understand where Rhys and Feyre had gone.

But…for all intents and purposes, Cassian was his daddy now. And she was his mama.

So she pressed a kiss to his dark hair and whispered. “He had to leave, baby. He had to go for a little while.”

Nesta hoped and prayed that Cassian would walk back through that door, and yet, she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him to.

That night, instead of Cassian taking up the spot next to her, it was Nyx, who held her hand until they both fell asleep.

[jadelynlace]

ink drinker / modern vikings au, Ivar x F!Reader

author’s note: long story short, I wrote this series but used an OFC that I use for most of my longer series. many thanks to @victoria-styles for her suggestion of making it a reader / Y/N story. major plot tweaks as well.

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend: you.

pairing: Ivar x Reader

✎

“Not into the million dollar bullshit?” You heard a voice beckon from behind you, stepping forwards with a light to start the cigarette that hung between your Oxford red stained lips.

“Crawling through the depths of hell sounds more pleasant than being here,” You grumbled back through the cloud of grey smoke slipping past your lips. You watched the figure next to you light up his own cigarette, taking note at how his fingers curled around the stick as he laughed with your words. “I’m only here to calm Hvitserk,”

“And he’s not even here,” He said back with a laugh, blue eyes peeking to grab at yours.

“Structure fire across town,” You tell him. “Told him that if he’s so inclined he can bring the truck over here and spray the party with the water,” Ivar laughed at that.

“Fuck, you clean up nice. And I love a woman in uniform,” He teases, smirking as you do too. It went silent for a second between you two, sticks of chemicals on your lips as his eyes did not miss the way your dress hugged at your body, how your stilettos were secured around your ankles. He couldn’t pull his mind back quickly enough before he was imagining them over his shoulders, your lips that curled around the filter and how they might look around his cock. How you were the first person who gave him complete reign over the ink he was going to forever mark your body with.

“Let’s just say I’d rather slice my own tongue off and choke on it than admit to that, actually wearing something other than the blues, and enjoying it,” You groan as the man next to you laughs, a sick snicker coming from his lips and you find yourself smiling too. “But you don’t clean up half bad yourself, Ivar,” You tease back as your eyes catch sight of the roll of his sleeves, how he maneuvers the buttons and pulls the white fabric back to show the first indications of sleeved out arms.

“Where do you want to go?” Ivar asks, taking the cigarette from his mouth to stub.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t think I fucking stuttered,” He started in challenge. “You said you didn’t want to be here, so where would you like to go?” He asks a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips as he cocks his head to the side awaiting your answer.

“Alright, Ragnarsson, you’re fucking on,” You laugh back, crushing your own stick with the spike of your heel as you follow him.

*

Hvitserk was a man who took most things with a grain of salt, others came with a few shots of whiskey. He had seen the darker side of humanity, and you were right there with him when he did. Your interest in becoming certified for emergency medicine had followed you since your high school graduation, and you were right on the top of the sign up sheet when class enrolled. And you stayed on top when your graduated. Company firings and how it lead to short staffing, moving of some onto better things lead to an opening you leapt on and found yourself paired with a paramedic with blonde hair and a smile that could cause most of the human population to smile back. It did not take long for a friendship to strike up, even outside of the station and the blazing sirens. His humor, his companionship kept you sane, kept the darkness of the horrid calls at bay, you two grew close, quickly.

Even if company policy allowed the romantic attachments between co-workers, you still couldn’t find yourself catching some sort of feeling to Hvitserk. He was a friend, your best, and it was left at that. You trusted him with your life, you’d gladly lay on the stretcher and head into the emergency room as long as he was the paramedic who was treating you.

Sigurd came next in the line of his brothers, an obsession with music, and nothing but the best that world could offer. He had an artistic hand, Hvitserk drove you towards his place of employment for permanent artwork to your liking and that was how you met Ivar. He watched you tip toe through his portfolio, but if Sigurd had talent, then Ivar was a God. You had never seen such movement on skin where he would trace his ink. You didn’t want to pull a design off of the internet and ask Ivar to put in on you, it seemed almost rude, instead you told him where you wanted it, and told him to go crazy. He looked at you in such a way, thinking you were joking. Perhaps too un-educated in the world of tattoos, but you held your ground and he was proud of such a feat.

Work was all too consuming, trying to leave space for time other than the blood pressure cuffs and patient history. You’d spend time out on town with Hvitserk, his brothers soon in tow, a party of their own that they could become. You were shocked Hvitserk hadn’t caught on, that none of them had, how long you had been spreading your legs for Ivar in secret. Petty bantering between the two of you, the others making bets to see whom would kill whom first, but that chatter went towards the foreplay that would follow you two into the bedroom. The most shock you came to realize was how Ivar was always there in the morning—it took a lot of you to convince him to leave, but he always mumbled something about five more minutes just for holding you.

Perhaps it was how your days were spent doused in testosterone, one of the three women of the entire station, entire company, leaving you to be able to handle yourself around men with egos far bigger than the dicks they would carry. That was how you were so seamlessly integrated into the Ragnarsson brother’s, struck up like the sister they never got. That was how Ivar found himself thinking about you far more than a friend with or without benefits would, how tightly you snug around his cock, how you look and sounded when you came for him, how you had pulled more from him than any other woman he had slept with. How you made him feel appreciated and not like a man who needed to navigate himself with his dick to get what women he wanted. How you didn’t toss him to the side after the first fuck. You drove him crazy and he didn’t have the words to admit to it.

“If I hear a grumble from you one more time Ivar, I am going to kick you out of the shop,” Sigurd spoke from his spot at the front desk, thumbing through a magazine of industry products as Ivar hissed a curse at him in reply. “What the fuck is you problem?”

“Y/N,” Ivar answered all too quickly.

“What? She hurt your ego too bad last time we were out? Didn’t stroke it enough to your liking?” Sigurd teased.

“No,” Ivar said. “She didn’t stroke me enough to my liking,” But Ivar said the words far too quickly before he could catch them.

“Are you fucking her?” Sigurd said, sitting up in his chair. “You two are fucking?” He laughed.

“Shut up,” Ivar grumbled, a toss of his pencil flying to grace the space Sigurd was at.

“She cut your dick off? That the issue?” He teased. “Hvitserk’s going to go ape-shit, dude,”

“That’s why we’re not telling him yet, right Sigurd?” Ivar said “Right, Sigurd?” He repeated with an extended finger at his brother.

“How long have you two been fucking—I need to know that, for science, and because I am still in shock. How did you—her? She’s too good for you Ivar, you have to be careful there,”

“Two years,” Ivar remarked and Sigurd nearly fell out of his chair.

“Fuck! You ask her out yet?”

“We’re not talking about this—or telling anyone else, right?” Ivar said again.

“Yes, sir,” Sigurd nodded, a fake salute from his hand as his mind was still scrambled.

“Don’t call me sir,” Ivar snapped.

“Yes ma’am,”

*

You’d never forget the call that came through dispatch a month after you and Ivar had started to screw around more often than fuck buddies would. The address sounded familiar, but Hvitserk was the one who made the connection it was the shop. Ink Drinker was a parlor bathed in black; walls and dark floors that made the rooms look like they never ended. The art displayed belonged to that of Ivar, of Sigurd, of the few others who came and went for their tattoo work. The owner had wooden sculptures of his own to line the spaces, but you had only ever seen the man through his social media.

You feared suddenly something happening to Ivar, or Sigurd, readying yourself for the sight that may hold them there, but it wasn’t them. A patron had passed out to the sight of the needles, sending Ivar to sour his entire mood at the weakness for something he found so simple. His flash of anger changed suddenly when you and his brother showed up, jumping from the rig in full expectance to see either sibling in a bloody mess after fighting to their death.

“I called and specifically asked for Hvitserk Ragnarsson and his partner,” Sigurd teased as the teenager came too, apologizing and still paying Ivar for the appointment he was too scared to cancel.

“I was hoping it would be a trauma call, you finally snapping and kicking Ivar’s ass,” You answered back, smirking at Ivar as he rolled his eyes in distaste. Ivar’s eyes climbed your whole body as you worked, the uniform marking your hierarchy and importance as you took the patient to the hospital. His text message not ten minutes later almost made you head back just to smack him.

“You’re keeping the uniform on next time we fuck.”

Tags:

@smileysam13579 @dreamtherapy @heisentwerk  @angelofthenightposts @ill-skillsgard @youaremyfamiliar @unbetaedimagines @kathryn-jane @readsalot73 @skrsgardspam @lihikainanea @victoria-styles @queen-sarang   @anastasiaskarsgard @andmyannabellee @youbloodymadgenius @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @walkxthexmoon  @flowers-in-your-hayr @peachyboneless @heavenly1927 @theanxietyqueen17 @trip2themoon

[neon-junkie]

In Heat

Summary: Your species goes into heat once or twice every solar cycle, and unfortunately, you're in heat whilst co-piloting Mandos ship. With no supplements, the only way you can get rid of this ache between your legs is with Mandos help.

Pairing: Mando/Din x f!Reader

Word Count: 2809

Rating: NSFW

Tags: Nsfw, Smut, Slight a/b/o dynamics, Sex pollen, In heat, Knotting, Creampies, Multiple orgasms/loads, Reader isn’t human.

Notes: If you enjoy my work then please reblog!!

A co-pilot wasn't something that Mando had ever considered, but since he was carrying such precious cargo, and struggled to shoot and fly at the same time, he decided it was for the best. He'd hired you and told you straight what exactly he needed you for and what his mission was, and after meeting the child, you understood why he felt like it was his duty to return this infant to its breed. You'd been traveling together for a few weeks now, often sharing the load of flying and helping out with the action whenever you needed to. Mando had told you that in dangerous situations, you were to guard the child whilst he dealt with the fighting, and so far, all had been well. The two of you got along much better than expected, only because your wit and sarcasm matched his, and you were fine with the few words he spoke. There was no need for pointless chit-chat and gossiping, especially when both of you could be resting instead, so your dynamic worked well. 

You're uncertain of what species Mando is, but he's human-like so human is your best guess. You'll never know as he's forbidden to remove his armor, and you're fine with that. It's not something you need to know, but you can't help but be curious. Humans are far too common out in space, they seem to be a very reproductive breed, unlike your own, a dying breed but you've still met a few like you in your time. Mando had made a comment about how he hasn't seen many of your kind before when he first met you. Funny that, your breed not being common despite things getting very... heated once or twice every solar cycle. With modern technology, those heated ruts can often be tamed and ignored, almost not feeling that urge at all, let alone the smell. But unfortunately, you'd been carrying the bare minimum on this mission and for some reason, you didn't pack the medicine needed to help calm that phase. So, here you are, crossing one leg harshly over the other as you try to calm your crotch down. It's almost burning, you can feel yourself soaking through another pair of pants but you've already excused yourself more than one to go and use the 'bathroom.' Unfortunately, you're so used to your own smell that your body ignores it, so you're not sure how bad the stench it, but from the way Mando keeps looking over his shoulder at you whilst he drives, you'd assume it's pretty bad. When you're in heat with a partner, it's fine, often becoming a very intimate and sensual time for the pair. But you haven't got a partner. You're stuck floating through space with some knight in shining armor and a small green being who's almost twice your age. Just your luck. Mando pulls down on a lever and flicks a couple of buttons, putting the ship into auto-pilot. He swivels his chair around and looks at the child, who's been quietly sat in his floating cot this whole time. "Come on, you. Naptime," he says as he stands. He picks the child up and slides down the ladders, exiting the cockpit and putting the child into the small hammock he'd made for him in his pod. You overhear the pods door shut, followed by the sound of Mandos shoes clinking against the metal stairs as he climbs back up. He closes the door as he re-enters the cockpit, sitting back down on his chair and swirling it to face you. He's silent for a few seconds before he finally says "we need to talk." "Oh? Have I done something wrong?" you ask, your mind quickly going over the past few weeks to look out for any mistakes you might have made. "No... I know you can't help it, but..." Mando begins as he waves his hand slightly, shooing away any bad tension that might have been in the air from his blunt sentence starter. "The smell you're letting off, it's... distracting," Mando tells you. "Oh, sorry! I can't exactly help it. I normally have supplements but... I forgot to bring them," you admit. "I didn't think this would happen whilst I'm out here." "Bad timing, huh?" Mando asks. "Yeah," you say with a nod. He ponders for a moment and you can tell he's thinking about how to help. "We're not going to come across any planets for a few days. Is there... any way I could help?" "Not unless you have a hidden stash of supplements, no." "...I didn't mean through the use of supplements. We know that solution is off the table. You're, erm, in heat, aren't you?" Mando questions. "I am... are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Mando pauses again before eventually replying "yes." You can feel an uncertain expression creep across your face as you ponder over the thought of Mando helping. "You're human, aren't you?" you ask him. "I am," he confirms. "Please don't take offense to this, but I don't think a human would be able to keep up. Those, erm... 'sessions' can last for hours, and you'd definitely be... drained," you explain. "We can try," Mando says with a shrug. You're about to respond but Mandos stood up from his seat. He walks over to you and settles down in front of you, resting his hands on your knees as he looks at you. The feeling of Mandos hands resting on your knees is setting you off much more than it should, and you're pretty certain he heard that whimper escape your lips. "What do you say?" Mando asks you. "We can try," you say with a small nod. "Good," Mando replies as he slips off his gloves, chucking them onto his chair and turning his attention back to you. Mandos hands rest on your knees again, only this time he begins to slide them up your thighs, eventually settling on your waistband. He grips onto it and lightly tugs, waiting patiently for you to lift your hips up. You do, and watch as Mando slowly pulls your pants off, pulling off your boots in the process, leaving you with just your shirt on. His hands are on your thighs again, trailing up the inside of them. The feeling of skin against skin is setting you off again, your pussy already dripping wet, accidentally beginning to soak the chair. He gently parts your thighs, exposing yourself to him. Mandos thumb rests against your clit as he begins to gently rub it, his head flicking between watching your expression and admiring your folds. "You're soaked," he informs you. All you can do is nod, your head beginning to spin from the small amount of contact. "Guess I won't need to prep you," he comments. "Nu-uh," you say as you shake your head. Mandos hands move away and you can't help but whimper. He softly shushes you as he reaches down and begins to unbutton his pants, pulling out his already hard member. He pumps himself a few times, slicking himself up with the precum that drips from his length. You never thought you'd see Mando in this state, jerking his shaft, getting ready to take you, but it's a welcoming sight that you'd love to see again. "Up," Mando says as he stands, offering you his hand and pulling you to his feet. "Wrap your legs around me, alright?" Mando says as he places his hands on your hips, his body slightly bent. You know what he's trying to do so you lightly jump, Mando picking you up and holding you tightly. He walks you over to the wall, pressing your back against the cold metal. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist, and Mando moves one hand off you so he can line himself up. The both of you sigh as Mando pushes into you, sheathing himself all the way in, the tip of his cock brushing against your core, making you whine and moan. Mando pauses for a brief moment, probably getting used to the feeling before he begins to fuck you up against the wall. His thrusts are rough and deep, his balls slapping against your ass. Despite the drone of his helmet, the moans he's letting out are so beautiful that your pussy can't help but clench every time he makes them. "You feel so good," Mando compliments, his voice husky and full of lust. "So do you," you respond as you wrap your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life. Mando rests his head on your shoulder, your cheek turning cold as his helmet presses against you. It's a welcoming touch, your body radiating more heat than the sun, so the coldness of his helmet feels far too good. You feel your body slipping slightly, but Mando raises you up and presses you even more firmly against the wall, his body pressed right against yours. His hands move down to your ass, gripping onto each cheek as he fucks you. For a man that doesn't talk much, he's quite the moaner, almost moaning louder than you; but Mando manages to brush against that spot inside of you, a scream escaping your lips as you bury your head into the curve of his neck. "There it is," he says as he begins bucking against it again. His cock ruts against your g-spot perfectly, making your walls tighten around him as you feel your first orgasm nearing. "So tight," Mando moans, loving the way you're clenching around me. "I'm gonna..." he trails off. Another few thrusts and Mandos spilling his load inside of you, grunting and moaning against your shoulder, his grip on your ass tightening. You also cum, your walls clenching around Mandos length, making him whimper and stop his thrusts. He's pushed deep inside of you, his orgasm being milked as you ride yours. You're almost painfully tight around him, practically locking him into place. Eventually, you un-tense, and Mando is able to slip himself out, still panting as he gently lowers you to your feet. "You're not done, are you?" he asks. "No," you say as you shake your head, holding onto Mandos arms to keep yourself upright as your knees feel like they're about to collapse at any second. "Get against the chair," Mando orders you as he points to his pilot chair. As you walk over and get down to your knees, Mando speaks again. "I didn't realise you get that tight." "Yeah," you say with a shrug. "Some people call it knotting as we're similar to animals," you explain. "You didn't do it then, did you?" he asks as he gets on his knees behind you. "No," you reply. "Why?" "I managed to stop it. I don't want to hurt you. You humans are a bit too soft, wouldn't wanna crush you," you explain with a soft laugh. "I can take it," Mando shrugs. "Plus your species can't interbreed, can't they?" "They can't," you say as you peer over your shoulder, watching Mando lazily stroke himself as he talks to you. "Then it's fine. If you can't help it, then do it," Mando encourages you. He doesn't seem to be admitting it, but he definitely wants to feel how tight you can get around him, so the least you can do is show him as your way of thanking him for helping you out. "Alright," you agree. "Good," Mando says with a small nod. Mando lines himself up again and slips back into you. He rests his hands on your hips, holding you steady as he begins to buck his cock into you. Your hands rest on the seat of his chair, your head resting against them as you begin to moan. You can feel Mandos balls slapping against your clit, the sound of skin against skin echoing around the cockpit. It was definitely a good mistake to forget your supplements, simply because this mysterious masked stranger, who is technically your boss, is now balls deep inside of you, helping calm your heat and doing a surprisingly good job for a human. Mando continues to let out the prettiest of moans as he rolls his hips oh-so-perfectly into you. He feels rather sensual and intimate, not feral like he was 5 minutes ago, but things are about to change when Mando shuffles back slightly and pulls you with him, moving your arms and head from the chair you were resting on. "Give me your arms," Mando orders you. You move your arms behind your back, forearms pressed together, keeping your upper body raised without support. Mando tightly grips onto your forearms and pushes your chest down, your cheek pressing against the metal floor. He begins to slam into you, keeping a firm grip on your arms behind your back, his body towering over you as he begins to fuck you with an animalistic vibe. "Shit!" you whimper, enjoying the way Mandos balls slap against your clit. He already feels like he's close, his balls warm and heavy, ready to push another load into you. His previous load is mostly seeping out of you, his thick length pushing the creamy liquid from your cunt as he pounds you for all you're worth. "Good girl," Mando praises you. That comment makes your head spin and your pussy clench, and Mando picks up on it. "You like that, don't you? My praise?" he asks. "Mhmm," you say with a small nod, your eyes scrunching shut as you feel Mandos cock hit your core. "Interesting," Mando replies as he makes a mental note of it. Mando leans his body over yours even more, his spare hand reaching forward to grip his pilots chair. You're sandwiched underneath him, enjoying the feeling of no-escape as Mando pounds the heat out of you. Your hips feel like they're going to collapse at any moment, Mandos thrusts are a lot harsher than you were expecting, and eventually, you find yourself almost fully lying on the floor. Mando moves his hand off the chair and places it beside your head, keeping his body towered over you. "Come on. You're close, I can feel it," he tells you, commenting on the way your walls begin to clench around him. "Here, let me help," Mando says. He straightens his back as he moves his hand from the floor, reaching underneath you to begin rubbing your clit, his other hand still wrapped around your arms. "Mando," you moan as you feel your orgasm approaching. His cock throbs as you say his name, but he continues to hold himself back, waiting for your release. "Come on," Mando repeats. Mando continues to slam his hips against yours, hitting your g-spot perfectly. The pleasure is all too much, and you cum again, this time tightening fully around Mando as you lock him into place. "Shit!" He yelps as you tighten around him, his cock buried deep inside of you. He spills his load into you, moving his hand off your clit so he can hold his body up, his muscles going weak. You're a whimpering and panting mess beneath him, and Mando eventually hunches over, resting his head between your shoulder blades as you milk him for all he's worth. He's breathing heavily, moaning, and sometimes grunting from how tight you are around him. At least your heat has calmed down, but you weren't expecting things to end up like this - your boss locked inside of you, probably sweating from how long he's been at it. Eventually, Mando lifts his head up. He straightens his back as he looks down, giving his cock a small tug but you're still too tight for him to remove his cock without it hurting the both of you. "Here," Mando says as he wraps an arm around your waist and rolls onto his side, pulling you with him. The two of you are still panting as Mando spoons you, his arm underneath your head, and the other one around your waist. "Rest," he tells you. "You should rest too," you reply. "I will," he agrees. You want to thank him for helping you out, but you're unsure how to say it without it sounding... weird. You decide to leave it, closing your eyes instead, deciding that you'll repay him however he sees fit when the opportunity arises. Mando shuts his eyes as well, falling asleep with you on the floor of the cockpit. It's not the most comfortable place to sleep, but it's the only option available when Mando is still locked inside of you. He'll be able to slip out of you by the time you both wake up, but let's hope that nobody tries to disturb your slumber, else things are going to get awkward pretty quickly.

[blackch-rry]

“His side of the bed”

p. sunghoon x female reader (1.2k)

warnings: angst? shitty writing. this is from months ago and idk why i’m posting it in the first place. it’s supposed to be multiple parts but i don’t think i’ll be doing that :) 

***

She always appreciated having the night shifts. Maybe there's something in the air when its long passed sunset that makes it so calming; addicting. If it was safe enough she would take nightly walks all by her lonesome. Walks that would last hours while her mind went off running.

 Her deepest wish in life is to let the free spirit that resides in her body float up into the sky and find a home on the clouds. There's something holding her back of course. There always is. It could be the pile of late assignments she has no interest in completing. Or it could be the obvious.

A broken heart that was shoved into the darkest, deepest, place in her. She doesn't like to admit when she's hurt or hurting. She guesses it's because her pain is something only she wants to feel. It's nobody else's business besides the person who put her in this state. There is a part of her that wants this pain to escape and travel somewhere far away. Possibly to him. Him. She would like him to feel this way too, because she thinks he has no idea at all.

The store's interior is new and freshly renovated, but the outside is a work of art only decades on earth could do. Green vines crawling every which direction. Cracks and broken chucks missing from numerous bricks. Personally, she prefers the run down, old, look. But she won't disagree that the inside looks much sharper and modern. 

Her co-worker just stepped down from the ladder on the farthest left wall.

"It's time for me to head out. Hopefully since it's a thursday," He pushes his sleeve up to check his wristwatch, "and almost eleven there won't be a lot of late night shoppers."

She always thought Jungwon had a nice smile since her first day on the job. He's a nice guy from what she knew. Apparently, they attended the same high school three years ago. She was a senior when he was a junior. "Don't forget to turn off the backroom light before you lock up, okay? You left it on last time and, ironically, Joy wasn't too happy about that."

Jungwon placed the last few books from his hands into their respectful places before heading back and grabbing his belongings. She halted him by placing a hand on his shoulder before he left for the night. "Thank you by the way. For saving my ass with Joy." She quickly put her hands behind her back and put on a smile of gratitude.

Jungwon would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed anything different with her the past couple of weeks. He noticed everything of course, how she lessened conversations with customers and shortened her responses to everyone. It's just the two of them working the later shifts of the day. Jungwon thinks she could be a great actress.

"It's no problem at all. Have a good night, okay?"

She did a slight nod of her head. She walked back behind the counter and continued where she left off. It was quicker than usual how fast she got distracted and rummaged through her bag for a certain notebook. She pulled out a dark blue pen and got to work. Draw a flower. A rose. Then, draw a butterfly. Write a phrase. I miss you on your side of the bed. No... cross that out...please.

She straightened her back when her phone chimed. Glancing at the time, it had been a little over thirty minutes since Jungwon left.

I won't be home when you get back. Probably be back around tomorrow night.

A text message from her roommate. As she typed out a couple words the bell above the door alerted her of someone's presence but she didn't lift her head from her phone; assuming it was probably some middle aged customer. She replied some minutes ago but got distracted, once again, by her Instagram feed. Definitely not employee of the month. All previous sounds were blocked out, but there was a sudden clearing of a throat less than four feet away from her.

She never thought movies made sense when a character would say 'It happened in slow motion', but she could say she felt her chest burn the second she saw him and the way his eyes met hers was painfully slow.

"Sunghoon..."

She hated how she said his name instinctively, no thought or hesitance at all. Her eyes shifted to his hands. A book. No, two.

"Wow, it's...been so long hasn't it?"

"A year isn't that long."

She guesses she made him uncomfortable because of the way he laughed off what she said. She can't seem to take her eyes off the books. Especially not when he puts them onto the space between them.

"Just these two?" Her voice is stable but low and quiet. She gets nothing but a nod in return.

"I didn't know you were back."

"How could you have? I didn't tell anyone besides, well, h-"

"Her? I figured."

She supposes there has been something eating inside of her since the very beginning of their end. It's not done yet, but it's made some sort of breakthrough that day. She holds in her scoff as best as possible.

"Two of the same book?"

"She wanted me to read it at the same time as her."

That made whatever was there eat faster. She hadn't even rung up the second book yet. He clearly noticed how slow she was going and sighed out of irritation.

"Does she make you do everything with her?"

"What's with all the questions?"

"I just find it funny. You always told me to stop wasting my time on books and letting my head get stuck somewhere non-existent. You never picked up a novel. It's-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm a hypocrite." He ran a hand through his hair. Something he did when he was running low on patience. She decided to state the painfully obvious.

"You're doing it because you love her. I mean, you're in love with her."

"Can you just tell me what the total is?" His card is sitting pretty in between his fingers. She knows his hands are ice cold. No... she probably makes them warm.

"$29.98."

He makes sure they don't touch when he hands over his card. She notices.

When midnight arrives, she double checks the backroom light is off and the door is locked. The short walk back to her apartment is relatively quiet if you don't count her inner thoughts.

She's got a free spirit somewhere in there, no doubt about it. But the reason why she's not letting herself get a taste of the wind has just moved back to town. The pain she hasn't let go of for more than a year is ready to see the sky, touch the stars. It's been ready, but she's grown so used to it she wouldn't know what to do, how to live on, if it escaped.

She's come to the realization that it's not fair how people could be so okay with leaving behind their other half. It doesn't matter if she's still in love. It never does.

No matter how many times she sleeps on her side of the bed, how warm it can get, his will always be cold and it eventually spreads to her as well.

[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.”

[ofcloudsandstars]

Hey guys so here is my experience from last night lmaoo get ready cause it was unsurprisingly a hot mess full of white people microaggressions and me being alone as the only black person present having to deal with their spiritual charade shenanigans.

It's a bit long but it's a colorful description of the event and the experience taking ayahuasca, a wrap up of my own spiritual and magical journey and also a rant on the caucasity rampant in spirituality lol. A tl;dr is that it's sad that White People have to go across the world to take medicine from other people that have ceremonies revolving around it when.. we literally have our own stuff here that's like.. nearly the same vibe.. But more on that below.

So last night for the lions gate sun lining up with sirius star I was invited last minute to an ayahuasca ceremony in the edge of London kind of by Richmond park. The whole universe really opened up for me to do this Ceremony. 

At first I was like I dunno I mean its hosted by wealthy white people right? Admission was £200 and I was like absolutely Not, not for a medicine taken far away from it's land and I dunno how the experience was going to be like, plus it was on a Saturday night until Sunday morning and I work in hospitality and if I couldn't get Tuesdays off to at least work in the garden center growing food and plants how would I get the full weekend off? Plus the ceremony was already full. Well without even ASKING, or really thinking much about it, for once in like.. 2 years working for this company I got the full weekend off?!?! The fuck!!!!! Like I literally had to go to my director to fight my manager to try to get off Tuesdays which are the QUIETEST day of the week for hospitality but I got the full weekend off on like one of the hottest summer weekends in England. My friend co-hosting the ceremony called me to tell me that I wouldn't have to pay full admission and it was all donation to the tribe anyway (like suggested donation) anything I could give would be appreciated but I certainly did not have to pay the full fee. Then I was supposed to go to the beach with my friends in the morning but that all fell through due to unforeseen circumstances. I was thinking the beach trip would make me unable to go to the ceremony but it was just like.. cancelled the morning of lol. Lastly this guy dropped out last second so there was space for me.I was like damn it was like the Universe reshuffled itself for me many times to do this so like sure I will take this opportunity. Plus my friend in this group did work with the tribe in Brazil earlier this year and they are friends with them and do this to raise money so that they can sustain themselves better, like they are building solar panels for electricity, building chicken coups and trying to integrate little bits of modern society (like the electricity and water filtration parts, not like social media and capitalism lmao) into their lives. The last ceremony they did they raised like 2,000 pounds and this got the tribe a lot of food and funds to buy solar panels. So I was like ok this is also a good cause I always would love to help out indigenous people that protect the Earth.

Anyway there was a vibe about the way the Universe just opened itself up for this medicine that reminded me of Mushrooms. Like it's a strange thing but people that take mushrooms medicinally say it as well like it finds you when you need it. Last night I also got a great link to healing mushrooms as well and it was just the time to open myself up to that type of frequency I guess. For a while before it was a challenge to find for years I’ve been living here, but all of a sudden the universe was like: here you go! Anyway I was thrilled to work with this medicine and ground the lessons I've learned getting pinball tossed around the cosmos on DMT at the beginning of 2020 in January.

-

So yes I got to the edge of London and it was in some beautiful secret entrance building painted with murals of green jungle designs, A LOT of Indian spiritual symbolism everywhere, statues of Ganesha and other bejeweled paintings of Indian gods. It was beautiful but to be frank as much as I find Hinduism beautiful I never related much to it cause it's not my culture. What I mean by 'relate' is that there is this SEVERE obsession in white western cultures looking for spirituality in Hinduism and I never really got it. Like yes it's beautiful like many other nature-based spiritual religions but we are so far removed from the climate and nature of India like why are they so fascinated by it? Then.. there were some red flags... 

Ok for starters I was the ONLY NOT-WHITE PERSON there. I think it bothered me more in this moment cause I just got off discussing with an incredible Earthy witch in NYC who changed my life who's trying to do work by providing a nature sanctuary garden for POC how nature is so inaccessible to us and it's gate-kept by wealthy white people. I could elaborate on that more later but this post will be long enough lol. But anyway, why is this medicine not accessible to POC? When it's something not even native to here either? So it's like deliberately not shared with us?

Then there were just some people's vibes like ooooh boy I dunno why but some people just felt cold towards me? Like I guess they were annoyed at me showing up last minute to their ceremony? But my friend was co-hosting it? Like if you trust my friends judgement you should have trusted her in inviting me like I am not some asshole. But they were like.. impatient with me I guess? Like 'oh you didn't bring a waterbottle?? Guess you gotta borrow one of ours.' like BITCH I don't know what to expect man the closest experience I had to this substance was DMT where it knocks you the fuck out of your body and your spirit gets catapulted into the cosmos like I didn't know I gotta bring shit, damn! And then there were some people I felt like I just didn't want to talk to. Like they already had this cold vibe towards me like they didn't think I was relatable cause I wasn't some white cosmic yoga hippie like them (sorry I am a black bog witch like leave me alone) but anyway the way they were talking about the medicine was kind of irking me too like, 'ooh can't wait to clear some stuff I just gotta clear it out you know?' I am like, Becky we gonna be vomiting into buckets like calm down.

AND THEN LASTLY oooh boy so when you do any psychedelic the space really matters right? My friend like.. assigns me this fucking (ooh boy just typing this story and reliving it I am already getting heated lmaooo) |CORNER| spot and what I mean by corner is that it is in the corner of the room but wedged between the fireplace so you are stuck between 3 tight walls and you can't fully lie down or stretch your legs. Everyone across the room could lie down but me. Then there are like vomit buckets and this white girls crystal grid blocking my path if I need to leave to use the toilet or even stretch my legs so already I am having a slight panic moment cause I hate being confined. In general, I tend to like to pick aisle seats on planes and stand on either corners by the door of the elevator cause I fucking hate being confined. So I say something immediately like: ok well can I change spots? I am worried about being blocked. Can I sit there? 'no someone is there.' There? 'no' etc. So I am just like omg I am going to have to deal with it and some people are getting a bit fussy that I am trying to demand better treatment, so I am leaving it. They at least move the pile of vomit buckets out my way lol. But these white women next to me have also taken ALL OF THE NICE fucking pillows to make themselves super comfortable pillow chairs like one for their ass and back against the wall and they were like: oh no you'll need a pillow too! (Cause the ceremony is 12 hours long throughout the night like 9 to 9) and I was like yeah... and they were like: oh no there is no more!! But like CLEARLY all of the nice cushiony things were not evenly distributed across the room and the few people who did not get some nice cushions at least had space to stretch their legs. I didn't really say anything cause obviously these two white women had like pillow thrones happening next to me and this woman literally said with a pouty face: Aww, now I feel bad cause I have two nice pillows!  BITCH, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!?!?! Fucking christ. See?? SEE IT's shit like THIS that make POC hate that kind of white guilt shenanigans like, oh my god bitch either swallow your guilt in peace or give me a fucking pillow like you are trying to shift the position on to me to pressure you into giving me a pillow which you would either read as demanding or hope that I stay silent and be like: it's ok! so you can enjoy your comfort in peace and be free of your guilt. Like fuck off!!

Then there was this full time astrologer there who has some indigenous feather clip in her hair for some reason. She wanted to say a few things about what was going on with the planets. She was like: I love charting asteroids cause I feel like it's a representation of the divine feminine coming back! (I was going to be like: Me too! But the way she spoke about it was like.. not all of it is feminine? What do you mean?) she was talking about Medusa and eros conjunct in gemini right now and the myth of medusa being smited by aphrodite for being beautiful or whatever and I am thinking like I do not recall this myth cause it was Athena that turned her into the 'monster' to protect her wtf. And wanted to talk about mars retrograde that's not coming up for a while. So anyway I am like: Yeah! I love astrology too!  All that you talked about was pretty cool but I also wanted to mention some big changes are coming up with Uranus going into retrograde a week from now!! :) and everyone just like.. disregarded what I said.. Like she was like: oh yeah.. that's just an outer planet.. OK BITCH like I am pretty sure Uranus, a big ass planet that has to do with revolution, freedom and change going retrograde until Autumn is much more noteworthy than some little asteroid who's myth and energy you've completely misinterpreted being conjunct with Eros. (Eros is moving into Cancer really soon too so the conjunction isn't even going to last that long). Plus I wanted to mention that it was nice that we were doing this ceremony on an Aries moon cause it's like the symbolic start of a cycle yet it's a disseminating moon so it's also like starting off a cycle by celebrating the fruits of our success. But no one really wanted to listen to me anymore though that energy did influence my trip.

Anyway there was a part of me that was pretty bummed that my best witch friend that I did DMT with could not have come as well cause there just was no more space. At least we are always on the same vibe with everything and we would have been laughing about the shadiness of it all or excited about what's to come but I felt pretty alone during this ceremony.

-

So it begins, I got my borrowed waterbottle, the smallest, thinnest and hardest pillow that no one wanted for my ass that hurt more to sit on then the thin yoga mat that was just as thick as a human mousepad and I am like: who knows I may be so out of it I won't notice my space as much. The woman leading this is someone who worked with my friend in the tribe in Brazil. She is Russian and got the feathers in her blonde whispy hair and shit I am like oh boy. She explains what work they were doing and the reason for the fundraiser like the details of what the tribe is building and how they are supporting themselves. Also the tribe that night were also doing an ayahuasca ceremony earlier to sync with us so that they can meet up in the Astral plane which is really beautiful. She also explained how they were surprised at westerners fascination with the medicine. Cause they are like: this is apart of everyday life and there are other healing plants in the amazon too. Like why do westerners have a fascination with this? It is a way to connect with the jungle and cleanse yourself and reset (once again I am making that connection to mushrooms I am like.. the vibe sounds oddly familiar), but they find westerners interest in it weird.

Ok so we start with some ceremonies to open up the space and create this 'fire spiral' altar in the middle of the room. They light the pillar candle and have a tea light for everyone in the room. We each go around to light our tea light in the spiral with our intention allowed. People go there and declare stuff like: I am free, I am aligned with my path, etc.  I think about my intention for this trip and how it feels like another pillar of understanding in my journey to connect with my heart energy, love myself and be proud of my accomplishments cause I really came a long way. I was a bit afraid it was going to be another chaotic DMT experience but I just reminded myself that no matter how bad I felt everything was going to be ok cause I have people in this world that care about me. Even if I disappear somewhere or end up dead someone will come looking for me. And I know that sounds dramatic and morbid but at one point like 5 years ago I really did not have that. I was alone, lost and suicidal. I know what loneliness can do to people and it's nice all of the friends I pulled together in London who are creative diverse witches that all made great friends with each other as well through me and it's like we created this new found family that cares and supports each other. So I light my candle and say alloud: I am protected by love and reflect that in the things I create. Anyway the ceremony leader is like.. can I say something?? BITCH!!! HOOOOO MY GOD I should I have said NO but I was like, ok, she is the ceremony leader so I am like.. go ahead.. She was like: By saying you are protected by love that's implying you could be attacked.. (Like Why the fuck would you say this?? While I am lighting my candle?? You are putting negative energy towards my intention wtf) I was like no I meant it like.. I am supported by love. She is like: ah yeah that's better say that. She did not want to correct NONE OF THESE OTHER PEOPLE when they were saying 'I am free'? BITCH you could have had the same energy like: that's implying you could be enslaved. Anyway that irritated me into my trip. I took the ayahuasca from her and as I was feeling the effects I was feeling more and more adamant about my intentions.

-

I was thinking about the times when I was alone, when I was targeted and attacked by this stupid racist social group in college that made me feel unworthy of friendship and it was hard to make new friends until I was 21 cause it was a city college so most people hung out with their highschool friends until they were old enough to go out and drink so the first two years I was fucking lonely and the subject of like a lot of harassment when I did try to socialize in clubs and would run into those people there. It nuked my self esteem. Plus though I did so much finding friends magic it was really difficult finding friends that into the same things I was. Sometimes I felt like I was the only witch, the only person really into nature and magic. After college I did another spell and met this incredible witch that we synched so much (I have def wrote wild adventures with us together but she was also abusive cause at that point I still did not know how to establish my boundaries well) but I met other amazing witches in NYC but eventually we all moved. The incredible Earth witch who changed my life was the one who accidentally gave me shrooms that were like grown with love and intention that helped break down my mental barriers and help me take charge of my life and finally move out of my house I grew up in.. like completely out of the country and into England to start my life anew. In England I was successful in making a whole community of loving witch friends who really care about me and add to the ceremonies I host. I joined greenspaces to learn how to grow food and plants. I fucking STRUGGLED in my job getting my food in the door with bartending and slaving my way up until I have a cushy desk office job with healthcare. All in 2 years. I fucking hauled ass and created and manifested the life I always wanted when I was suicidal in NYC thinking that this reality was impossible. And every time I feel anxious I know that since I love and trust in myself that I will always protect myself and even if I was worried I have like a whole SET of magical badass witch friends who would help me at anything and I would do the same for them. 

When my roommate was threatening to call the police on me back when lockdown happened (long story) one friend did some healing on her and she like completely came to her senses and apologized the next day which was wild considering that she's such a proud self-absorbed person and would never do that. She realized that she was acting super ugly and was like wow I don't want to be this person. (Also I was so close to cursing the shit out of her lol but we are cool now). Also I am going away to Italy for the first time to be with this gorgeous man who wants to take me around his hometown but I am only going cause another close witch friend just moved to the neighboring town and will check up on me. She made sure to call him without me even asking to look at his itinerary and include herself and her boyfriend in a night of drinks to check up on us lmaoo. She is such an Aries I love her. If anything would happen to me she would make sure I was safe and could stay with her if something went wrong. God I could go on about each friend, how they've helped me with confidence, healing, safety and just feeling loved, valued, accepted and less alone which is powerful in this society that thrives on people not valuing themselves and where pure unconditional love has seemed to have lost it's meaning. One thing I admire about trees so much is how when they grow together their roots intertwine underneath the ground so that they can support each other upright during winds and storms. They also send nutrients to each other and help each other grow. I feel like I made a network of trees with witch friends in London and I am proud of that when I didn't have that years ago when I was alone and actively hated by a group in college. (I mean about the group it was more like a dynamic where a guy who had control over the club wanted to shun me cause he just likes the power dynamic of picking someone to talk shit about like literally if it was not me it was going to be someone else. So one party cause I did have a crush on him, I told him as I was wasted I was into him but then later apologized when sober if he didn't feel the same way. Like it really wasn't a big deal, I was a flirty 19 year old, but it was fuel for him to once again redirect negative attention on someone cause he's someone who's insecure so he likes the power of getting others focus on people and crush them. The "mutual friends" kind of didn't care about what was going on. The reason why this dynamic worked is cause in a way everyone was a bit lonely and didn't value themselves so they were willing to do anything to fit into a toxic social circle to have access to a club room and drink underage on campus to feel included and didn't want to question who the witch hunt of the week was so they could feel like they were in the ‘in crowd’. It was pathetic when one of them would be the new target and they would come to me like: boohoo I know what it feels like. Bitch I do not care and I made new friends and moved on. Fucking cunts.  -Another thing about being protected by love is like as a black woman even though I got some privileges being mixed and half European I still was subject to racism and I am still scared of hate crimes fueled by sexism and queerphobia but I have friends who will support me and understand and if anything happened to me people would care. Like yes some people in this world DO have things to fear about getting attacked cause we are not all privileged in society to not fear getting hurt Karen.

Anyway as the ayahuasca was kicking in I started getting a bit emotional cause I was thinking about people in the world that really deserve to be loved in this society that condemns us for loving ourselves which is the most important thing. I was crying thinking about black kids especially black girls trying to survive in this society or LGBT+ kids and how some people can't even have their existences respected. How people mock others for their gender identity but those people are in a constant battle with loving themselves cause I am sure at the end of the day they feel hopeless at times or giving up and have to fucking battle dysphoria and have to survive in a society that actively wants them dead and its really fucking upsetting like hooo them psychadelics were opening my heart and grief while this white woman across the room was doing some downward dog yoga shit into her bucket so she can wretch into it lmaoo..

When it started kicking in, boy omgg I felt SO GOOD but I was like..  This.. THIS (I got so mad when I realized this)  THIS IS JUST FUCKING MUSHROOMS LIKE!!!!! !!! ! THIS VIBE IS SERIOUSLY JUST SHROOMS, THE JUNGLE EDITION™   like no wonder the tribes are like: what are white people on about? Cause if they all came with their pashmina scarves, harem pants and grinch-finger dreadlocks to my woodland for mushrooms, especially when there are so many magical plants as well but they are just focusing on this psychedelic when there's also like native medicines in every land I would be a bit confused too. Like we were drinking something that was the equivalent of mushroom tea but it made you vomit it back up eventually. Ohh my god lmaooo. 

I felt so beautiful though. Some comparisons if you guys have done mushrooms: where as mushrooms make you feel these gentle pulsations like everything is breathing around you had has this gentle life breathing among everything like it's all connected (like the mycellium under a forest), ayahuasca makes you feel so sensual like everything is kind of just rolling like how the underside of waves look except the waves are large snakes. Like things start getting wavy the way snakes move but slow and sensually, think like the way a bellydancers hips can roll. It was a whole MOOD. Also with mushrooms when you close your eyes you can see these beautiful patterns bloom before your eyes like pastel art nouveau fractal patterns of tree roots, or clusters of bubbles you'd see looking at plant stems vascular bundles under a microscope or the web-like pattern you see in butterfly and dragonfly wings. With ayahuasca when you close your eyes you see like bright neon colored geometric shapes expanding like bismuth crystals, the patterns you see in indigenous textiles like triangles and cubes, sometimes they will lattice together and make beautiful neon snake-skins that gently slither together. If you've ever seen Miyazaki's/Studio Ghibli's castle in the sky it reminds me of that 'lost technology' metal blocks with runes and scriptures on it moving around. Sometimes you will be following this thread of cubes and they'd be moving around like in that scene and in this cavern of blocks you'd see this celestial-looking geometric crystaline being be revealed. It's very beautiful. Though mushrooms can make you purge, it really does not happen often. However with ayahuasca it's almost a guarantee you will vomit it back up.

So people are all wretching everywhere as the ceremony leader is singing some folk songs from the tribe to guide us through our journey. What's cool is that you kind of feel that purge coming towards the peak end of the trip like a kind of brown murky snake rising from the bottom of your body up like kundalini energy starting from the base of your spine bowels past your stomach up until it pokes from your throat opening up that passage way until you feel it in your head and you just release it all out into the bucket. Not really glam but it doesn't taste bad but then again being a bog witch I drink all sorts of murky plant teas so I am used to the flavor palate. (It's like a sweet in an aromatic way and reminds me of one of those chinese medicinal murky teas).

Also as I was realizing the similarities between this and shrooms I was like wow it's a shame that we aren't outside or somewhere with jungle plants at least to connect with that plant energy. Instead we are in this hindu spiritual retreat place but if we just did some shrooms we could have been out in the sunlight at richmond park hugging the massive ancient trees there and feeding the wild deer summer strawberries like instead I am fucking cramped in this corner vomiting into a bucket with this exotic medicine.

As my trip went on I was thinking more about my friends who care about me and support me and how much I loved them and I couldn't stop thinking about my best witch friend that I did DMT with whom I wish was there. Like we would at least have been laughing about this or vomiting together or she would be like: omg this would be such great play-write material. She is white passing but super self aware and would at least make sure that I felt ok and included in all of this. I took a moment to step out of the circle to text her about the details and the woman in the corner doing yoga and vomiting in her downward dog pose and she was cackling and of course since the medicine connects you to that heartspace I was like confessing how much I care about her and how much of a special friend she was to me and was tearing up but one of the ceremony leaders followed me outside and was like: no phones!! It's not good energy!! Omg?? Like sorry I forgot cellphones were the devil's energy, it's not like I am bored and scrolling through social media, I just wanted to connect with my best friend who makes me feel less alone thanks.. Anyway I went back after being scolded and tried to get comfortable in my cramped spot.

Some positive affirmations I did get through all this was that (bringing back the disseminating moon vibe) I was loved and should be really proud of how far I've come. I kept thinking about all the people I love and cared about and how I should express my love in little ways that will make them happy like celebrating love everyday to make sure that people can feel supported cause it was the themes of my DMT trip too but now it was clearer and more grounded. I also got messages that sometimes I tend to be too selfless and there will be a time that I will help others but I should prioritize myself first mostly cause when my cup is full or when I get to positions of power or comfort I can always share that with people I care about. It was a good conclusion to a half years effort cause this also reflected my Glastonbury trip back in November where this witch who read my tarot cards gave me the clearest reading of my life and told me that I would not do well if I did not confront my heart energy and the pain there that was still festering from the social experience at university. So the efforts I went through my friend giving me sound healing and the DMT trip and other stuff has really opened up my heart and helped me to connect with that energy and care about myself more. But there was the theme again of I really need to protect myself first. Sometimes when the white girl next to me was mercilessly wretching and wailing into her bucket I felt so emotional for her that I would fan her but I would get this loud voice in my head like: DID SHE EVEN ASK THAT OF YOU?? FAN YOURSELF IT'S HOT BITCH- SHE OK SHE GOT HER FUCKING PILLOW THRONE WHEN YOUR ASS IS ON THE HARD GROUND. After purging and trying to get comfortable in my corner I would get increasingly aware of the lack of space and how I was starting to feel claustrophobic and it was starting to fuck with me. Cause yeah I got mental health issues, but it's usually under wraps when I take care of myself like, good sleep, food and water but, I was getting sleep deprived since this was an all night ceremony, I wasn't able to eat food to fast before this, and now I can't even fucking lie down cause I was in a coffin of a corner on the hard ground. My muscles and knee joints were starting to hurt. People were so in the zone just like.. doing arm-trance dance shit or throwing up while the ceremony host was hollering some songs which no one understood the meaning to and I felt at that point it was too late to ask anyone to share their pillows. I was noticing as I was coming down from the sensual jungle slithering plane that I was in muscle and joint pain.

I was like: Ok it's fine, the night would go by quickly.. It was not going by quickly.. I remember once I was sneakily looking at my phone’s clock and it was 4:30AM. I was like ok just gotta get through this time will pass.. The ceremony leader was like intoning some frequency so loudly she was trying to channel some celestial dolphins and whales or some shit but it was so high pitched the crown of my head would be vibrating and at first it feels energizing and cool but since my head hasn't had anyplace comfortable to rest I got a tension migraine from placing it on the floor so I could feel the high pitch note like vibrating the pain in my head. Then she was doing individual healings (I also got skipped somehow in this), she would be like channeling the frequencies for each person and making sure they purged what they need to purge and they would wretch into the bucket some more as she was growling into their backs, the feathers stuck in her blonde hair, quivering as she growled, there was the yoga girl now crying releasing her purge again. Someone was sticking their legs into the air and waving them around cause of energy I guess. I am like ok ok time will pass quickly.. what time is it? *sneakily checks my phone again so I won't get yelled at* 4:32am

OH HELL NO. I am trying to calm myself down but like if you struggle with the mental health imbalance I was in the red zone. Like I have not eaten, my stomach is cleared with vomiting, I cannot sleep, I am CONFINED in this corner, unable to stretch my legs, I am in PAIN, I feel alone.. They go around offering everyone a cup again and I am like: fuck it let me take a second cup..

So I start feeling good again, I feel like a sensual snake like trying to slither across silk. (You know when snakes try to slither across silk but they cannot move across it? It's like that you are just slithering in place) but literally I also feel like a clearer message in my mind almost like the spirit of ayahuasca is communicating with me like: Hun.. babe.. You got your positive affirmations that it's your time to rest and celebrate all you're hard work but you need to remember that you gotta honor and take care of yourself as a part of self love and you being confined in this space is not an act of self love. Especially if you do decide to stay here longer your mood and health will drop so low that it will affect others healings so it's best for everyone if you try to go home early. Like I felt the spirit of that medicine actually encouraging me to leave. Like the fucking ayahuasca itself was like this environment isn’t healthy for you lmaoooo.   And I think that's wild.. It's so wild that these white women are all like: We are going to connect with the cosmic dolphin frequencies, and the tribe in the amazon and the human race, but they CAN'T EVEN FUCKING CONNECT TO THE BLACK GIRL IN PAIN IN THE CORNER OF THE ROOM, like they can't even distribute their nice pillows, they can't even read that I need help. They SKIPPED me with the individual healing. They were so cold towards me. Fuck it! Even my friend's companion dog who was there noticed I was off. She would look at me with concern in her big eyes and apprehension cause she could feel my pain turning into mentally unstable anger. I was like aw man I am killing the dogs vibe right now but damn the dog noticed and even these white women didn't?! Like I dunno if they are that empathetically shut off or if they were deliberately ignoring me. lmao, Also I think maybe cause I vibe so much with plants and genuinely want to reforest some land some day maybe that's why I feel so at home in the ayahuasca high like the medicine was really comforting the second cup but it also was like: you cannot hide within my frequency to escape pain- cause obviously it's NOT a substance for escapism. Anything but. It was like: it's time to go home and take care of yourself. (Like you'd imagine being on the brink of a mental breakdown taking this stuff may push you over the edge but it was actually very loving, sensual and re-affirming again.)

So the ceremony leaders notice since it's 5AM that most people are comfortably asleep in their piles of pillows and stretched out legs and they are about to go to bed but I go up to my friend and am like: thank you for everything, I think I should go home now.. And the women leading it were all Surprised and Shocked! 'Oh my goodness?? She's leaving?! Going home? The event isn't over!' Mind you this is by Richmond park and I live in north London by Hampstead heath so yeah it is a mission. I also could not afford the £40 uber so I was willing to take the shady public sunday morning night bus home lmao (oh no she'll expose herself to all that heavy shady energies of public transit! 🙄). But I was like the amount of time the bus would take from me to go home is probably not as long as the way time was inching slowly within that space and me being in pain. So my friend walked me out and I was trying to be as loving and cheerful and grateful cause I honestly did not want to bring down anyone's vibe. She checked up on me as I was getting my things to make sure I had a healing experience. I tried to be a little honest in being like: It was beautiful, it reminded me of mushrooms but like from the jungle.. Honestly the reason why I am leaving is cause I am in physical pain and I don’t think I can stay in the corner any longer; and she was like: yeah well ceremony is never comfortable. HOOOOOO LAWDDD. Oooof.. Omg.. Like.. OOF firstly.. The ceremony leaders each had 3 stacks of like thick pillowy matts to sleep on which ONE Of them could have been given to me and like yeah I am sure ceremony is at least bearable when you have a fucking pillow throne and mattresses and not confined in a coffin of a corner spot unable to move your legs without knocking someone’s vomit bucket over. Jesus. I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed my shit and left. As soon as I was free on the other side of the gate I felt SO RELIEVED!!

It was so refreshing being outside on sunrise, free to stretch my legs. I could still feel the affect of the medicine as things would pass me by and I'd see like this stream of energy behind them it was really pretty and cool. Since it was London in Liminal Space Hours™, there were foxes everywhere leaving behind streams of soft light as they'd move around the empty streets. The bus was pretty chill other than this fucking creep of a man walking in this dark cloud and when he moved past me his stream of light was literally some ugly fluorescent hostile neon color I was like wow I can literally see your grimy frequency right now lmaoo. But whatever, anything was better than staying silent in that cramped corner to cater to white women's comfort.

Anyway I got home, got plenty of water, took care of myself and crashed on my super comfortable bed. It was a really good decision I made I could not imagine staying until 9 AM like it was not possible and I am grateful I honored myself in leaving early and listening to ayahuasca's reminder to do that as well.

-

So the conclusions I made:

White people as a modern cultural collective are fucking wild and can sometimes be a lost cause, cause we literally have medicine here that does similar stuff and more like flying ointments which can help you confront your shadow and fly to other planes but they just want to lose themselves in the mysteries of other peoples exotified cultures that still have traditions in tact to celebrate the nature around them cause white people are disconnected completely from the nature that they come from. (Also obviously to clarify I mean white people as the modern white supremacist culture, obviously not everyone individually cause I am friends with a lot of white witches here doing invaluable work connecting people back with the native land, plant medicines and traditions and many of them trying to save the Gaelic language and traditions that are still under threat and being killed off today).

Though ayahuasca can be more of a powerful cleanser than mushrooms, it's essentially the same frequency of plant medicine like the same vibe just connecting you to another land and there is a reason why indigenous people think white people are weird for over glorifying it when we have our own shit. If you are really curious about ayahuasca I mean mushrooms are good enough a job really and will better connect you to the woodlands that you may live in. 

 Most importantly I kind of understand the type of role I need to play and the path there isn't clear cut but it's important for me to keep spreading that message of love. Right now we live in a dark dank ass time line when the Earth is transiting some dark corner of the cosmos and everything is going through it's own nasty purge while we try to ascend to a new and better reality. However this new and better reality is really indifferent towards the existence of the human race or white supremacy so as the earth ascends and has it’s own purges, if people don't fucking get it together, especially white people, we are going to get taken out as the rest of the world thrives and glows up without us. It's so easy to fall into a spiral of self hate cause this shitty evil society we live in thrives on us not knowing how to honor ourselves and love ourselves. Even capitalism has twisted the idea of loving ourselves into something selfish or synonymous with splurging money to further empower stupid companies to give us quick highs from new purchases that will lose it's meaning and later pollute the earth.

On these trips a message I keep on getting is that love and life are synonymous. It's true and sad that there are many people brought into this world without love but what lets life thrive and what makes life worth living is love. And love is really that energy where we are grateful in our existence and the existence of our friends and those that support us and nature that supports us. But often what helps us understand that love is being able to support ourselves and do stuff that honors ourselves. And yes being loved IS a need, so it's important to seek out friends that validate you and that will love and support you and that you can do the same with them. If you find that network you will feel less alone and when you love yourself you will never feel alone and that in itself is true empowerment. When you have love in your life like that you can do anything and you will always feel safe. And I think that's why I was crying at the beginning of my trip cause I know what it's like to not have that. I know what it was like to feel hopeless and suicidal. We also live in a society that like beats down on kids of color especially black girls and like LGBT kids especially trans kids and it makes me so sad to think that there are people here that don't even realize how valuable they are by just existing. Like their lives don't just matter, they are INVALUABLE and that they need to fight for themselves every day and make the effort to love themselves cause honestly once they push through and really figure out how to love themselves they don't realize that they are literally a beacon of light and hope for others to learn how to love themselves too. Once they get to that place someone else who could be alone and struggling can look to them and be like: wow I do have the right to exist and be valued cause this person found a way to do it themselves even though society shat on them the whole time. And it's important to support your peers in these marginalized groups as well and be allies to those who are not well supported in this society. Like this is such a shitty timeline but people need to realize that they are made of love and that they are valuable and that the future of humanity and our peace and well being depends on their missions to find love for themselves and overcome white supremacy's demon ass structure that is enslaving us all.

Ok that is all. If you have read all of this thank you <3

[vidimillion]

idk if ur still doing jasico hc but if u r... college aus! what majors, background, etc? i love college aus

i love them too anon. i love them too. (thanks for the req!)

the university library is packed with people studying for midterms. some people are sitting on the floor, with no chairs left. a ways away from the louder parts of the library, by the windows, there's a really cute guy who's got a small table all to himself. the cute guy sees jason desperately looking for somewhere to study and pulls his bag off the other chair at the table, silently offering.

jason sits down and tries to work, he really does. he's got all his architecture and literature textbooks out, and it works for a little while. jason notices that among the guy's textbooks, there's a few open poetry books that he seemed to read on his study breaks.  jason recognizes a few of them and feels a nagging desire to say something smart, something that strikes up an interesting conversation with this really cute stranger, "emily dickinson was a lesbian."

his faces goes red as he dies on the inside. surprising him, cute stranger stares at him and says something along the lines of, "oscar wilde and michelangelo were definitely gay too."

jason learns the cute boy's name is nico di angelo, and it's gotta be one of the prettiest names he's ever heard used by a real human being. he introduces himself and nico tells him his name is pretty. they're both double majors, something they impressed eachother with because they hadn't often heard of other people taking two majors. nico double-majors in economics and psychology, which impresses jason a lot. jason double-majors in english and architecture.

they're fast friends, and apparently great study buddies because they make it a schedule to study together nearly everyday. they meet up at the library, the yard in front of the school, campus gardens, family-owned cafes off campus. they get to know each other a lot, and realize they're in a few of the same psych and classical studies classes. apparently, nico's that one kid who was late to class and scaled the side of the building to climb through the window. nico discovers that jason's the kid who poured a 6-hour energy into a starbucks black coffee with twelve shots of espresso in it.

more under cut

after exams are over, they both feel dread at the thought that they won't meet up as often anymore. well, it's a lie, they're friends now and they ain't ever gonna let each other go.

they figure out they've got a ton of mutual friends— so many it's odd they've never met before then. percy the bio major who's on the swim team, annabeth who's in the same architecture course as jason, reyna who majors in business and polisci and is the only other person they know who's a double-major. they start by hanging out with their mutual friends, then they introduce each other to their other friends. soon enough, practically everyone they know is in the same friend group.

the ENTIRE group ships jason and nico. they want it to happen so bad in fact, that they literally set them up??

the theatre club is planning a modern— and lgbt friendly— reimagination of one of shakespeare's classics. piper and percy trick nico and jason into "helping them make their audition tape", when in reality they're not sending the audition tape for themselves. jason and nico get the parts of the two main characters.

that's a story for another time though. in short, it works, and jason and nico start dating after opening night. piper and percy are proud to say that they're the reason why.

they planned to have their first "date" date at a poetry slam, where nico's friend's band would play. there was a power outage, so both events were cancelled. instead of rescheduling the date, nico got the idea to bring jason to the roof of his apartment building with his ipad and some snacks. they binged a few movies and watched their part of the city light up when the power came back on.

jason's roommate just moved out and he really can't afford his apartment on his own. no matter how appealing the thought of living with nico sounds, it's way too soon to ask him if he'd move in with him. surprising him, nico asks jason if he'd like to move into nico's apartment— the one he lives alone in which is far nicer than jason's and is 50% paid for by his dad. nico says it's because jason's building doesn't allow dogs and he'd want to bring his dog with him if he moved. hazel and reyna know it's because nico would prefer jason to live in a less cramped space. jason agrees anyway.

nico technically has two dogs, one he co-owns with percy who's name is mrs. o' leary. the second one is a pup of his father's purebred rottweiler cerberus— she's half bear hunting dog, retaining ceberus's coloring but is far larger and far fuffier. her name's amelia. jason fucking loves her, but he's a cat person at heart.

jason successfully convinces nico to adopt a cat—  a gorgeous grey ragdoll who he's named tempest the second, after the cat from jason's childhood.

everybody will assume that between the two of them, nico's the sleep-deprived one. they're not wrong, but most people don't know that jason's even fucking worse. his skin is just so perfect that he never gets eye bags. he can go for almost a full week without sleeping. nico hates this but jason says nico does the same thing.

"no babe, it’s not the same, the longest I've gone without sleep is four days and you haven't slept since last tuesday."

nico has a habit of humming and softly singing when he's bored or distracted. once, jason had his head in nico's lap and nico was combing through his hair with his fingers. nico suddenly begins to sing really softly, something italian that jason's never heard before but if he has he can't tell. he falls asleep in like under five minutes, which surprises nico because jason's so stubborn about sleep. at first he doesn't know why jason fell asleep so fast, until a little over a week later when jason asks him to do it again. (nico thinks it's really fucking cute.)

in reality, nico knows why jason doesn't sleep that much.

before nico met jason, he kind of thought that jay was a spoilt rich kid who played lacrosse in high school or something. he always admired that jason was very hardworking— had two jobs and worked his ass off for his grades, and still spared time for his friends. he didn't realize until later on in their relationship that he was kind of right at first— jason hailed from a rich family, but they didn't want to pay for anything unless he was studying to be a lawyer like his dad. nico loves that about jason— he had the option to have his tuition, his rent, everything paid for as long as he studied something he had no passion in. and he decided he'd rather work.

(and when jason told him, it broke nico's heart because he knew what being abandoned by your family like that felt like. hades is a far better father now— he pays nico's tuition, half of his rent and actually enjoys communicating with him— but nico still remembers his life when he wasn't. it's a little bit of the reason why nico asked jason to move in with him, so that he didn't have to work so hard for rent as well as tuition)

that's all i've got anon i don't know anything about the college experience i'm sorry

[ssa25]

Awkward Misunderstandings - Sasuhina Month 2020 Day 2

Modern AU Sasuhina

Rating: T (for curse/swear words)

It was ridiculous!

What the hell was he doing anyway? In that dark movie theatre watching a God-awful paranormal movie, stuck with Kiba on one side and some stranger on the other?

This was not the plan he had agreed to. He was under the impression that he would be the one sitting beside Hinata, while she leaned into him frightfully to watch the whole movie. Instead Kiba fucking Inuzuka had parked his unwelcome ass right in the middle of the two of them, and he was even helping himself to the sweet (ugh!) popcorn, he had bought for his supposed movie date with Hyuuga Hinata! Heck, the last time he had peeked at her over Inuzuka’s head, she was totally hooked to the movie, without even an ounce of fear! 

He had to admit it grudgingly. He was failing miserably on his second supposed date with Hyuuga Hinata. Just like he had on their first one.

-

Hinata Hyuuga was one of the newly hired temps in their firm. Now, he would usually never date his co-workers, because already he was inappropriately propositioned so often in his workplace that he did not want to encourage such behaviour between his female colleagues. But he was quite taken with this new temp. And,it wasn’t against the rules, so he decided to woo her.

He had given himself a solid month to get close to her before he asked the dark haired beauty out. What he had not anticipated was the woman’s close friend, another temp, Kiba Inuzuka being a deadweight to his barely-taken-off dating life.

That pointy teeth burly man was stuck to her side for most part of the day, with their desks next to each other. Whenever he tried to talk to her, Kiba was right beside her like her guard-dog, like he did not care about giving them even a shred of privacy. Sasuke didn’t understand what his deal was.

But he was an Uchiha, a little challenge never discouraged him.

Few weeks later, he had asked Hinata out to dinner at a newly opened eatery, with Kiba leaning right there on her desk while he did so. Sasuke had made some small talk first of course, and then he asked her casually.

“Hey, so one of my friends has opened a tapas bar, a few blocks down from here. How about we go there sometime for some dinner?”

She looked completely confounded at his suggestion. Probably because they weren’t close enough to share mealtimes, yet. But Sasuke did not want to wait any longer. He knew her pretty and soft persona had unwittingly engaged the attention of some of the other males at their workplace. He had to act on his instinct.

A few seconds of awkward silence later, she had looked at Kiba, as if she was wanting some silent approval, and then agreed with a pleasant smile.

They agreed to meet up after work on Friday later that week, because her weekend was already committed. It wasn’t ideal, he would have preferred to pick her up from her place, make it a bit more special and not a casual post-work dinner. But he wasn’t giving up this chance.

So, friday evening, he waited at his reserved table and found Hinata enter the bar premises-

In arm with Kiba.

To say that he was shocked, would be an understatement. He had no clue why Kiba had decided to intrude on their date or why Hinata had even allowed it without asking him about it first. But he did not want to make an issue out of it on their first date. He wasn’t going to be stingy or outrightly rude - as much as he wanted to be - just for the sake of Hinata. Maybe, she was uncomfortable hanging out with him alone and brought her friend along for support. Sasuke could not fathom her intention, but he had to respect her feelings and give her space.

They had a decent meal, and he had tried to keep his eyes focused on Hinata through most of the dinner. His responses to Kiba were curt and dry. He got to know from Hinata (and Kiba), that those two were childhood friends. He did not know whether to be relieved or worried by that piece of information.

At the end of the evening, it was just a pleasant dinner, definitely not a date. Because of Kiba third wheeling them for whatever reason. 

So, he decided to give her more time to come around and feel comfortable in his solitary company. After all, good things come to those who wait.

He was pleasantly surprised, when two week later, she came up to him, sans Kiba, and asked him to join her for a movie she had extra tickets for. He had immediately agreed.

And like a broken tape recorder, he had yet again found both Hinata and Kiba -waiting for him this time - at the venue looking closer than ever.

-

“Am I missing something here?”

“Maybe she is into menages… She might be giving you a hint by showing up with that guy…”, Shikamaru Nara drawled as he leaned back in the chair in Sasuke’s office. He has admitted his dilemma to the only sane and reasonable guy he could trust. He could trust his best friend Naruto Uzumaki with his life, but not with his failed attempt at trying to woo a girl. That manchild knew nothing about keeping his mouth shut.

“No.”, Sasuke shook his head firmly at his friend’s suggestion. “No. Hinata is not that kind of girl.”

“You never know man. Some girls are into all that kinky shit.”

“Nara….She is the gentlest and most demure woman in this firm as far as I know, and that includes my fifty-six year old assistant and the geeky looking analyst who probably writes erotica as a pastime. Besides she did say that they were just friends, nothing more.”

Shikamaru smirked at him, “You look like you know a lot about women.”

“I can read a lot about most women just from looking at them. But nothing about this particular one. It’s frustrating to say the least.”

“Well, you could always find out more about her. Ask around, look her up on the internet.”

Sasuke looked mildly offended. “I refuse to come off as creepy.”

“You have passed her cubicle more times in the last few weeks than you have roamed through the office hallways in the last three years. I think you are already past that label.”, his observant friend commented nonchalantly.

-

Sasuke had decided to be direct. He will ask her out. If she agreed, he will tell her explicitly that it had to be just the two of them. And if she wasn’t up for it, then he would sulk away and avoid crossing paths with her for the rest of his life. Or less dramatically, for the duration of her contract with the firm.

Now, all he had to do was to come up with the most perfect romantic date, a woman like her could ever possibly want. But trust Hinata Hyuuga to toss all his plans in the bin, with a bat of her thick eyelashes over her striking grey eyes. 

She had come up to him with no-prizes-for-guessing-who right behind her, when he was getting his lunch at the cafeteria.

“Sasuke~san, how are you?”, she asked him with her trademark genuinely sweet and shy smile that drew his eyes to her glossy perfectly shaped lips. He sighed inwardly, feeling dejected that he was nowhere close to getting a feel of those anytime soon.

“I’m good Hinata, how are you?”, he purposely avoided even looking or even acknowledging the man lurking behind her.

“I’m well, thank you…. Ah, this might seem too forward of me…. But I was hoping to invite you over to my home this Saturday for dinner.”, she ended her words with a questioning lilt in her voice.

Sasuke was quite surprised by her invitation. This was the second time she had come up to him to ask him for his time. Surely it meant that she was interested in him. Right?

“Dinner? At your place?”, he asked her again just to be sure he had heard her right.

She nodded eagerly and explained, “I make a mean lasagna… I was hoping to cook for us… The last two times we were out… umm..  it was a little awkward… Probably because we were out in the public… I’m quite shy that way too… So I wondered if a more private setting might help the situation…”

The situation. She had called it a situation. She definitely knew that he liked her, and dare he hope that she liked him back too. She was going to cook for him after all. While his heart was all too eager to agree with her plans, his mind tried to bring his attention back to the problem at hand. The problem that was, at that very moment, smirking gleefully at him standing right beside Hinata.

Sasuke gave Kiba the hardest of glare before looking over at Hinata and clearing his throat. “When you mean us, you mean it would just be the two of us… Right?”

She was wide eyed and speechless for a few seconds, before she asked him softly with a tell-tale blush, “W-Would you prefer it to be that way?”

“Yes.”, he wasted no time in speaking his mind.

She nodded slowly and then gave another one of her blinding smile that had him smirk back at her too.

“Okay. Sure. Let’s do it that way then. I will text you my address later today.”

-

Saturday night was upon them very soon. He stood outside her door with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and a bottle of expensive rosè. It might be a cliched option, but it was safe and effective. Personalised gifts could be reserved for subsequent dates.

Dressed in all black smart casual, he knocked on her apartment door. Within seconds, he heard soft rushed footfalls before Hinata opened the door to him. She looked stunning in a pair of simple black skinny trousers and a cream silk bardot top, with her hair in a sleek low ponytail.

“Sasuke~san, please come in.”, she welcomed him.

Before he could come forward to hug her or kiss her cheek in greeting, she had turned around to get inside. He did not even get to give her the flowers or the wine. He brushed it off as her being timid as usual and followed her inside.

“You are right on time. The lasagna is almost about to come out of the oven.”, she informed him as she moved into the open plan kitchen.

But Sasuke’s steps faltered when he saw the now familiar figure of Kiba sitting regally on her sofa, as if he had every right to be there. Sasuke was aghast, angry and so very disappointed all at the same time. Before he could lash out at Kiba, Hinata stepped out from behind the kitchen counter.

“Everything is ready.”, she pointed out to the candle lit dinner table with flowers, an unopened wine bottle and a steaming tray of lasagna. “I will be out of your hair in a second. I have made plans of my own. Hope the lasagna is to both of your liking.”

Sasuke stood paralysed at what he was hearing. Was this some sort of prank? A joke?

He wanted to curse out loud but he kept his temper under control. “What the hell do you mean? And what the fuck is Kiba doing here??!”, he pointed the bouquet at the man.

Okay, so maybe his control wasn’t the best. And now, it was Hinata’s turn to look shocked at his outburst.

“W-What do you mean Sasuke~san?!”, she tried to pacify him. “He is here for your date with him. He arrived a little earlier and helped me with setting the table up for both of you.”

Sasuke pressed the bridge of his nose in pure agony at the clusterfuck of their situation.

“Why…. would you… EVER… think… that I would want to date Kiba?”, he asked her as he prayed inwardly for more patience.

Hinata frowned and explained, “Because I assumed that you liked him… You were trying to get close to him through me and-”

“Hinata”, he interrupted her. “I’m not gay. I don’t like men. And I certainly don’t like Kiba. No offense.”, he directed the last words to Kiba.

“None taken.”, Kiba replied smiling shamelessly from the couch as if he was amused at some private joke.

“B-but then…”, Hinata’s voice trailed off while her mind replayed their previous conversations. It took her a moment to gather her wits, before she began again, “But why would you ask us out then?”

“Because- ”

“Because he was asking you out Hinata.”, Kiba spoke over Sasuke to enlighten Hinata. “You just misunderstood him.”

Hinata gasped at the new revelation. She looked to Sasuke, and when he did not refute the claim, she looked back at Kiba accusingly. “Y-you knew??!!”

Kiba stretched his arms above his head leisurely, before he got up from the sofa. He was now openly laughing at them. 

“Of course I knew Hinata… You were naively oblivious to his intentions… And I decided to play along with your gross misjudgement for a while… I have to say it was fun while it lasted… Thank you Mr. Uchiha for the dinners…”, he saluted to Sasuke before heading towards the door. “I will be out of your hair, now that it probably won’t be as amusing as it was before…”

Hinata was still digesting the crucial piece of information that she had completely misunderstood, as her friend deserted her with Sasuke. She looked at him and offered an apology.

“I’m sorry Sasuke~san… I had no clue-“

Sasuke lifted his hand to stop her from apologising. “No… Don’t… It’s as much my fault… Now that I think about it, none of our words were clear enough for the other person to understand. I should have said explicitly that I like you and that I wanted to take you out on a date.”

Hinata blushed and looked away from the gorgeous man standing in front of her. She liked him enough as a colleague. He was really smart and hardworking, and he treated her kindly every time they interacted. But she had never imagined that he harboured any feelings deeper than their professional relationship.

Seeing her not react adversely to his confession, he stepped closer to her. Unsurely he handed her the bouquet. “I got this for you. And some rosè.”

“Thank you.”, Hinata kept the bottle on the table and smelled the pretty flowers.

Sasuke sighed audibly. “I think I should head back?”, he asked gingerly hoping to get her to cancel her plans and stay with him. The lasagna smelled divine. She looked divine too. Even more so than usual.

“I’m such a fool…”, she shook her head repentantly. She might have agreed to his offer to take her out if she knew how he felt about her. “I should have never so easily believed office gossip…”

“Office gossip?!”, he asked. “You mean people at work think I’m gay??!!”

She nodded guilelessly.

“Hn.”, he grunted unsure if that was good or bad. Because now he realised that there had been fewer women blatantly hitting on him in the last few weeks. But, a few men, co-workers he did not really know, had tried to be friendly with him.

 “But don’t worry, it was probably just speculation on Uzumaki~san’s behalf…”

“Uzumaki? Naruto Uzumaki??”, he said sinisterly.

Hinata grew a little nervous at the shift in his demeanour. “Umm…. Yeah… I… Kinda overheard him telling Ino~san and Sakura~san about how you liked men…”

She watched his eyes narrow into slits and tried to reverse any damage. “O-Or may be I misheard it….That’s possible too…”

“Hn. I will have a proper talk with Naruto about keeping his ideas and speculation to himself.”

Sasuke realised Naruto was trying to help him by keeping Ino and Sakura from openly flirting with him, while slyly gaining the two beauties’ attention upon himself. But he could have come up with a different tactic. His best friend will deservedly hear some of his choicest words as soon as he gets back home.

“Umm…. Would you like to stay over for dinner?”, Hinata’s sweet voice got his attention back. 

“What about your night out plans?”

She shook her head with a shy smile. “I can cancel them. I was going to hang out with my cousin and his fiance anyway. Most likely third wheeling them.”

“You have to stop the third wheeling Hinata.”, he said with a mock serious face.

She giggled and nodded before inviting him over to the table. 

x

[smokeybrand]

Rise of the Skywalker

This sh*t with Lucasfilm is wild to witness. I’m not really one to buy into entertainment gossip but i am emotionally invested in Star Wars. I’m an Eighties kid, man. Star Wars helped to shape our childhood growing up. Vader is one of my all-time favorite antagonists. Ahsoka has grown to rival him in my heart as a beloved character. As a cat who creates, myself, i can’t help but adore the passion and creativity i n the entire world lore around the Skywalker legend. I mean, look at everything built around those first three films. Just taking Legends into account, you have the absolutely excellent Shadows of the Empire and the Thrawn trilogy. More than that, and probably one of the best game franchises ever realized, you have The Knight of the Old Republic. F*ck, dude, Revan? Nihilus? Bastila? Kreia? HK-47? This is Bioware at it’s finest, save Mass Effect 2. And then Disney cam in and f*cked it all up.

Kathleen Kennedy has been a poison to the franchise, and not because of her identity politics. Look, you can work in your ideals and messages without being so goddamn heavy-handed with it but this chick, and her “writer’s group.” can’t craft a story to save their lives. That’s the problem here. Not Rey or Finn or Poe. Not Holdo or Rose Tico. Not even Snoke. It’s how these characters were presented, it’s how the writing shaped them. I’ve written at length about how Rey was a missed opportunity and, according to the original leaked treatment, that misstep was more like an outright face-plant The Rey that was to grow throughout the Sequel trilogy, culminating in a battle between a fully realized, Jedi Knight Rey and a fully realized Sith Lord Ren, should have been the Last Jedi we got. Instead, we got what we got and it shattered the credibility of the entire franchise. Star Wars, the most successful franchise in cinematic history until the MCU came through, was on life support. Forty years of solid, narrative storytelling, ancillary material, and fan passion, squandered because the chick in charge wanted to instill everything with her identity politics, using something she had no creative credit toward, co-opting the shine of another, to secure her legacy. And she did just that; Kathleen Kennedy was the person who almost killed Star Wars. Kennedy’s legacy of failure, secure. But then, a new hope. Jon Favreau, the progenitor of the MCU, stepped forward and saved Star Wars with his show, The Mandalorian.

John Favreau is a great creator. Dude not only gave us Iron Man, but Chef, Swingers, and Elf. He gets the content but, more than anything, Favreau understands how to craft a goddamn story. He was appointed to The Mandalorian and given creative control by, at the time, CEO of Disney, Bob Iger. Favreau, in partnership with the genius pariah, Dave Filoni, architect of Star Wars: Clone Wars, Rebels, and the best f*cking character created in the modern era, Ahsoka Tano. With theses two at the helm, Mando returned to the true essence of a Star Wars tale. They created their own pocket universe, one with the evolution of the Mandalorian culture and sprinkled with shenanigans of an adorable, and marketable, Baby Yoda. That first season gave us amazing characters like Din Djaran, Cara Dune, Greef Kaga, and Moff Gideon. That first season of Mando saved the franchises and that is not an exaggeration. It felt like Star Wars. The characters were rich and developed. More than anything, the stories told were absolutely excellent. The funny thing about that? Mando isn’t expected to succeed like it did. No, everyone, including Kennedy, thought it was going to fail. She fought, tooth and nail, against what Favreu was trying to created, sabotaging him at every turn. But he was able to complete his show and the fandom received it with utmost fervor, eclipsing anything Kennedy and her idealouges every created. Then season two dropped.

I’m not going to sit her and say that the narrative for Season two was better than the first. It wasn’t. But that’s because season two of The Mandalorian was a love letter to the fans. Favreau and Filoni had a hit on their hands with Mando and, more importantly, they made Star Wars profitable again. This gave the two of them a margin of creative freedom that expanded into something truly marvelous. That second season of Mando was able to dig deep into the lore, introduce fan favorite characters like Ahsoka Tano and Bo-Katan Kreyze, reintroducing Boba Fett while giving him a bad-ass second in Fennec Shand, while expanding the universe for spin-offs and delivery a franchise altering return of a Jedi Knight, Luke Skywalker! Kennedy spent her entire sequel trilogy, discrediting and marginalizing the old trilogy, typified by the complete destruction of Luke in The Last Jedi, only for Mando to overturn, redeem, and empower Luke with a two minute gauntlet of Force awesomeness that rivaled the utter dominance displayed by his father at the end of Rogue One. That tidbit about Vader? Yeah, Kennedy fought against that, too. The Mando came through and proved that fallowing Lucas’ path was the true way of the Star War and Chepek agreed. We now have this entire blueprint of shows birthed from this one season, that will build toward an Avengers-level event. Ahsoka, Rangers of the New Republic, and The Book of Boba Fett will all culminate in a cinematic experience, most likely a theatrical film, based around Thrawn. And, more to the point, people are excited about this sh*t. People are looking forward to this sh*t. People want this sh*t. What they don’t want is more of Kennedy’s politics and bullsh*t hot-takes, masquerading as Star Wars canon. Case in point, the abject failure of The High Republic.

Before Favreau and Filoni came through and saved Star Wars, Kennedy had this entire idea for a full-on Star Wars universe, built upon token diversity and f*cking Space dinosaurs. There was a pitch meeting that showed a literal checklist and story was the third or fourth option. How the f*ck is story not the first thing on the list for an actual narrative you’re writing? Why the f*ck isn’t the Writer’s group, not putting story first, in a narrative they’re constructing by committee? That is the genesis of The High Republic. In the time that Youtube preview hit the fandom with all the force of a wet fart, Mando came through and proved no one wants that sh*t. Then season two came through and rived people want more Luke and more Lucas Star Wars, weeks before The High Republic, the jumping off point for Kennedy’s original vision for “New Star Wars” was supposed to launch. Yeah, that launch ain’t go so well. The High Republic is out, right now, and you can buy it. No one is buying it. They’re all paying for Disney+ memberships to watch Mando sh*t on everything Kennedy has done or will do. Disney announced a whole slate of Star Wars shows and material. One of which is The Acolyte, a spin-off from The High Republic tarring Brie Larson and written by Leslye Headland. The Acolyte is going to bomb for the same reasons The High Republic is bombing; No one wants to be preached to and that’s all these woke, blue hairs, want to do. I know that because they’ve told you as such.

The Force is Female. All of that sh*t with Pablo Hidalgo. The recent controversy of Justina Ireland telling people not to buy The High Republic if they don’t agree with her politics. The fact that Kathleen Kennedy has been trying to get Favreau fired for “sabotaging” her High Republic launch by redeeming Luke and galvanizing the entire fandom. The thing about this, though, is the fact that everything Kennedy has crated, is creatively bankrupt. Everything Favreau and Filoni have built with Mando, has been genuine, organic, and fun. Just to be clear, i actually like Brie Larson. I think she’s an excellent actress with very valid opinions. I think the sh*t she wants to make should be made. I don’t think she should co-opt a long running franchise with decades of lore and a ravenous fandom who are already on the outs with the current management of their beloved franchise. I can’t say i like Headland but i did adore her Netlfix show, Russian Doll. that sh*t was hilarious and dope. I don’t think her type of film making lends itself to Star Wars, however, for he same reason i don’t think Larson should have a show in the fandom either. Having opinions is fine. Installing those opinions in your writing is fine. Installing your opinions in an established property is not fine. You can do that, Back Panther was able to integrate that sh*t successfully, but they did it nuance. It didn’t get clumsy and ridiculous until the end. Kennedy’s writing group started with the awkward preaching. Those weren’t the droids yo were looking for, bro.

Ultimately, The High Republic is going to fail, as will the rest of Kennedy’s Star Wars legacy. Favreau is already working toward altering her most precious OC, Rey Palpatine. There are plans in the works to make her a Kenobi going forward, redeeming the most egregious of Darth Kennedy’s transgressions, something that wouldn’t even be necessary if they had followed the original treatments JJ left for them going forward. Rey Palpatine should have been Rey Skywalker. She should have been Luke’s daughter. She should have been trained by her pops and took that discipline into the final film where she and her cousin would have a proper reckoning. Rey should have been a proper character with an established legacy. Kennedy decided otherwise and in that hubris, she failed. She has failed, not because she is a Femanzi or has an eye toward activism or an agenda to push. Kennedy has failed because she decided to heavy-handedly force those politics down our throats with no nuance or grace, by slighting everything that came before with malicious intent, while bolstering her analogous creations with the worst kind of writing and non-existent development. Favreau succeeded by weaving a compelling tale, that mirrored the Hero’s tale which has been the bread-and-butter of a great Star Wars narrative, filled it with realized characters who became fast fan favorites, staunched in the lore that came before. He respected the genesis and built something great from it, while revering the stuff which came before. Kennedy thought she was bigger than the franchise. Favreau understands he is in service to it. That’s the difference, That’s why Mando is succeeding and The High Republic has been laid low.

[lovejustforaday]

2020 year in review - honourable mentions

It’s year-end list season folks. I’m gonna be listing off my top 10 for this year with some tasty reviews, but I also wanted to make an appreciation post for a few albums that didn’t make the cut, so here’s a collection of mini reviews for five albums that almost made the top 10:

WEST OF EDEN - HMLTD

Main Genres: Art Punk, Glam Punk, Art Pop A decent sampling of: Dark Cabaret, Progressive Pop, Synth Punk, Post-Punk, Punk Blues

West of Eden is what I imagine what happens when a bunch of theatre kids become punk rockers. I had no idea who HMLTD were before I checked them out this year on a whim, and boy am I glad I did. This is very eclectic punk music with pop hooks and a lot of influence from cabaret and musical theatre. Definitely the kind of album where the artist throws everything at the wall to see what sticks, so it’s a mixed bag, but there’s a lot of pay off too. “The West Is Dead” is a wondrously flamboyant opener, and “Satan, Luella, and I” is a such a massive song, with a brilliant clash of aesthetics that is one part wild west, one part gothic, and one part broadway fanfare. Also I swear they’re sampling a vocaloid voice track on “Why?” so that’s something. Check this album out if you wanna get weird. 8/10

Highlights: “Satan, Luella, & I”, “The West Is Dead”, “Where’s Joanna?”, “To The Door”

FUTURE NOSTALGIA – DUA LIPA

Main Genres: Nu-Disco, Dance Pop A decent sampling of: Funktronica, Synth Pop

Ironically, 2020 has been a really big year for nu-disco even though we can’t go out to the clubs. Likewise, this somehow ended up only being my second favourite disco/pop crossover project this year, but this is still a great album and the singles are easily the best thing to dominate the charts this year. If Jessie Ware’s What’s Your Pleasure? is classy, sensual, and soulful, than Future Nostalgia is spunky and free-spirited, like the perfect soundtrack to a night out with the girls. Dua Lipa has really proven she’s a force to be reckoned with in the pop world, and I’m glad she’s starting to approach the level of stardom of artists like Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande who frankly I think she’s starting to really outperform musically. The last two tracks standout as easily being the weakest, although unlike some man-children I’m not mad at the lyrics of “Boys Will Be Boys”; it’s just a weak song musically, but not enough to make me forget how much the rest of this kicks ass. Honestly, it’s a crime that I can’t be drunk off my ass shouting the lyrics to “Hallucinate” in a gay bar right now as I’m writing this, but I digress. Very good album, proud of Dula Peep. 8/10 Highlights: “Hallucinate”, “Break My Heart”, “Don’t Start Now”, “Levitating”

SILVER LADDERS – MARY LATTIMORE

Main Genres: Ambient A decent sampling of: Post-Minimalism, New Age, Electroacoustic

I checked out this album because it was co-produced by Neil Halstead of Slowdive (my all-time favourite band), and I didn’t know what to expect from the process of a shoegaze giant producing an album of instrumental harp music. Thankfully, I’m happy to report that the end result is both unconventional and beautifully mesmerizing. Mary Lattimore’s Silver Ladders is a heavenly ambient album comprised mostly of just gently plucked harps, warm reverb, and the occasional addition of sparse bass and synths. Lattimore’s harp work is intricate but subtle, and the songs make a lot of good use of the space between notes, especially on the title track “Silver Ladders”, a haunting siren song that ends in a crescendo of shimmering echoes. I find the shorter ambient pieces on the album work a lot better than the two darker, longer pieces “Til A Mermaid Drags You Under” and “Don’t Look” which I find to be a tad bit dreary. Still, like all good ambient music, this entire project is a lot more than just ‘background music’ and it really captures the imagination of the listener. I want to get lost at sea listening to the cold air of Mary Lattimore’s harp, but I’ll gladly settle for listening to Silver Ladders on the bus ride home instead. 8/10

Highlights: “Silver Ladders“, “Sometimes He’s In My Dreams”, “Chop on the Climbout”

SHRINES – ARMAND HAMMER

Main Genres: Abstract Rap, Experimental Rap, East Coast Rap A decent sampling of: Conscious Rap, Hardcore Rap

Definitely my favourite album cover of the year, and it’s a completely real photo of an incident that actually happened so that’s pretty crazy. As for the music, Shrines is a hypnotic, cryptic hip hop album with hard leftist politics and very interesting production that sounds like the sonic manifestation of a head full of cynical thoughts. Billy Woods and Elucid spit rhymes with a lot of poetic frustration, expressing the feeling of utter disenfranchisement by the power systems of classism and racism that dominate their society. The first half of the album is mostly tracks that are energetic like the absolutely ferocious “Leopards”, while later tracks like “Flavor Flav” and “Ramesses II” are mostly mellow and bitter. The beats can be disorienting and confusing, and some of the tracks are kinda formless, so its definitely not an album to dance to, but Shrines is great for a more introspective listen on a late night walk. If I had to pick an album that captured the zeitgeist of 2020, this is probably it. Great music and important subject matter. 8/10

Highlights: “Leopards”, “Dead Cars”, “Flavor Flav”, “Pommelhorse”

ISLAND – OWEN PALLETT

Main Genres: Chamber Folk A decent sampling of: Art Pop, Modern Classical, Ambient

Owen Pallett is an indie folk artist who has had one foot in the sophisticated world of modern classical music for some time now. Likewise, Pallett’s 2020 concept album Island is grand and orchestral with distinct movements. Continuing the saga of his character Lewis from his 2010 LP Heartland, the new album is equally philosophical and complex, telling the story of Lewis being metaphorically stranded after killing his manipulator god at the end of the last album in the saga. The majority of this album is brilliantly nocturnal in a way that is neither creepy nor unsettling, instead conjuring the invigorating fantasy of a mysterious and enchanting night of a full moon. “Paragon of Order” is particularly enchanting, and while this album only sits at #11 on my year-end list, this one track in particular is probably in my top 3 of the year because it’s just so incredibly magical and captivating in a way that feels like it’s lifting me to a heightened sensory experience every time I listen to it. The last few tracks are a little confusing, especially “Lewis Gets Fucked into Space”, taking a somewhat abstract direction that deviates from the gorgeous imagery of the first half that I fell in love with. Nevertheless, Island is an album I’ll want to revisit on nights when I’m feeling excited or inspired. 8/10

Highlights: “Paragon of Order”, “--> (i)”, “Perseverance of The Saints”, “--> (iii)”, “--> (ii)”, “The Sound of The Engines”

[thebleuroseproject]

Ludus

Name: Ludus

Nicknames: Many, but none that really stuck

Pronouns: They/Them, He/Him

Gender: Genderfluid

Sex: AMAB

Sexual Orientation: Marsic, but money is money.

Age: 23 (Lifespan 90-150 years)

Class/Status: Moderate. He gets by and has a little extra from time to time.

Physical Description: 

Height: 6’5”  | Weight: 10.5 stone

Ludus is wiry purple hellspawn with pupiless green eyes that can leave his face hard to read, as it’s hard to tell where he’s looking specifically. He’s hard to miss in a crowd, being tall, often covered in jewelry and clad in provocative clothing that colour-matches well with his skin. A prominent feature are his horns, small and neatly pointed; they curve around his skull elegantly, ending just a few inches in front of his forehead and sitting just above his browline like a sort of natural crown.They are a deeper purple than his skin, and are often covered in various tidbits of jewelry. His lips are naturally purple, only a little darker than his skin, but Ludus is rarely seen without black lipstick, as anyone with a true sense of style knows that this is peak fashion. 

He looms over most people, with his intimidation showing not through his weight or size (because his ribs almost show through his chest) but through his cutting sarcasm and high perception when it comes to people, which some do fear him for. He isn’t afraid to get into people’s personal space when he wants to - which can leave many feeling unnerved, either by the lack of space, the headiness of the scent he wears or by physical attraction to him.

His physicality could still be seen as intimidating in some ways, as it’s clear there is some muscle behind those legs. Where one would expect those legs to end in feet, as they do on MOST humanoids, they instead end in a very solid pair of hooves inset with gold filigree - which look to be very painful if one was to be kicked by them.

There is no beauty without pain, and while Ludus has no tattoos (they don’t always match with their clothes), he has plenty of piercings from his ears to the tip of his pointed tail which he puts in or takes out to match with his current style. His thick black hair is shaved into a mohawk and grown from there, often braided and intertwined with yet MORE jewelry and dip dyed in a bright colour of their choosing. Like every part of Ludus’ body, it is cared for meticulously with an efficient routine. Only the best to look the best, he doesn’t care where it came from. If he needs to kill a puppy for good skin cream, then to the dog house Ludus shall go. 

Quirks: Despite his best efforts, Ludus cannot stop chewing his nails. He often does it unconsciously and then becomes angry at ruining his own manicure. As a result, his nails are always short which is just as well really -  it’s best they are to avoid any unnecessary injury in his line of work. Hellspawn nails, or rather claws at a certain point, can get VERY sharp. Aside from this, Ludus is a very clean individual - a very important habit as a sex worker.

Ludus ALWAYS buys gold jewelry but keeps (and wears) any he is given regardless of colour. He doesn’t mind silver, but in his opinion it doesn’t pop as much as gold does on purple skin.

He doesn’t have a phobia of anything as far as he knows - but he hasn’t exactly gotten out enough to find or SEE a lot of things to be scared of and is drunk most of the time due to his alcohol dependence. One thing he will flinch at occasionally, is someone raising their hand that he interprets to hit him. It’s a reflex at this point, and he hates it but isn’t sure how he can train it out of himself.

Morality: Neutral -   “You do you and I’ll do me - unless I want something from you, or you’re being a shithead to something I personally care about.”

{Art by Kerry}

Personality 

Strengths/Weaknesses: 

Strengths: Perceptive, Bold, Enthusiastic 

Ludus, despite his lack of a formal education, is a very quick learner - although this mostly applies to things of a sexual nature. They will learn very quickly how you like your blowjobs, or what exactly to say to get the job done as it were. His line of work has led him to be flexible and open minded in more ways than one, a fact they are very proud of. It's also given him an excellent fashion sense, although it does lean heavily into sexual wear. 

When it comes to his work and his skin care routine, they are extremely diligent - and perhaps with the right call to adventure, this could be applied to other areas of their life.

For the most part, Ludus is reliable. If you need something done that fits in with his schedule and that he agrees with, he'll get it done. It can be difficult to negotiate with him, but 95% of the time, they're easygoing. The other 5% is when they’ve lost their temper - or when they’re paid to be the dominant or similar.

This easy going nature really does show in Ludus' enthusiasm and lust for life. They are ALWAYS down to party or throw down, and this energy can be very infectious in others. This doesn't mean that Ludus is loud and bouncing off the walls, but he’s definitely the type to have a small crowd around him at a table. He’ll often go with the flow and the desires of the group - but if uninterested, he will just leave. There’s no chance of them slipping away after all, so Ludus will just state his disinterest and take his leave if it’s something he’s not in the mood for.

Ludus is also bold, he is not scared to do what needs to be done (in his opinion - which can lead to trouble). They have NO shame or concern for their well-being or social grace, he grew up as a despised minority in a brothel after all - but please, don't punch the face.

Despite this mostly fast paced lifestyle, mostly given to him by his work, Ludus CAN be caring and does know when the party needs to stop. If he sees someone in trouble or someone that's clearly overworked and/or tired - he will slip them a mug of water or something to help them along. He often did this for his co-workers at the Lupanar, it has almost become second nature to help those struggling from fatigue or hangover.

Weaknesses: Insecure, Impulsive, Complacent 

Ludus is not very forthcoming with his emotions due to his insecurity, and this shows through his flirting outside of work, which could be taken as platonic or sexual. He is bold, but he doesn’t think he’s worthy of actual love, and protects himself by being somewhat of a shy tsundere when it comes to people they like. They will help someone (eg, carry them to bed if they fall asleep somewhere) but will never admit to actually doing so.

This insecurity has led to a tendency to stagnate and just accept abusive relationships and situations as their lot. This has led to slow processing of trauma, and the unhealthy handling of it via the consumption of alcohol like it was water. Despite being a functional alcoholic, he is still a lightweight due to how little he eats, combined with his slim frame. As a result, Ludus is actually drunk most of the time, but you would find it hard to tell due to his experience in being drunk and due to the fact he is absolutely just as bold when he is sober.

He can be kind, but the side that shows most is the one that is judgmental and critical of others which leads to him running his mouth at the wrong time. You would think he would learn after getting hit at the bar/brothel every time he did so, but he doesn’t. He sees it as part of his ‘charm’, some clients like a challenge after all and he sees it as an integral part of his identity - one that he will never let go.

In spite of having a bold and outlandish personality - Ludus is not a leader. He loves parties, but he is not the type to plan them, purely because he is uninterested in the effort that it takes. He brings his ass and the wine, which is all he and anyone else needs (in his opinion). In non party situations, the lack of desire to lead due to effort remains. He’s no babysitter - he would just prefer to point out what’s wrong and let others fix it - rather than having to fix it himself. No one wants to be that sucker in the group project that ends up doing everything after all.

Skills: 

Self taught makeup artist

Knows first aid.

Dances wonderfully

Decent pickpocket

Can use a knife as a weapon - their fighting almost looks like dancing.

Can tie all sorts of knots.

Has the ability to give almost anyone a makeover.

Good bartender, excellent mixologist, amazing dancer (modern).

Education: Ludus has never had a formal education, having been working from a very young age. Of course, his coworkers felt an obligation to teach him the basics (reading, speaking, basic numeracy) as well as skills required for the role (dancing, basic sewing, self defence)

His bardic powers were found by accident in his youth - and he doesn’t know too much about them or the extent of their abilities - he finds knives do the job in most situations. Ludus is very materialistic and prefers things he can see; he would need guidance to really start to focus on magic.

His intelligence comes from his love of gossip and people watching. They spend a good portion of time gathering information by loose lips either in public or the bedroom, and Ludus is often amazed at what people tell complete strangers.

Likes/Dislikes: In their spare time, Ludus can often be found at a bar. They love the taste of alcohol, especially STRONG sweet and fruity drinks. You’d NEVER catch them with an ale or similar unless they were paid handsomely to drink one. His casual drink is a GOOD red wine though, as they’re a bit of a wine snob and he always makes sure to stock up on bottles where he can.

(Fantasy note: Ludus would most likely have an unending flask of his favourite red wine.)

Since he isn’t a fan of eating unless he needs to, Ludus’ preferred side dish with his wine is a good old bitchy gossip. He loves hearing other people tell him about their lives and bitch about their problems, it fuels him somehow, makes his problems feel smaller - just for a little while.

When he’s not drinking and/or gossiping, Ludus is probably shopping. They love looking at clothes and perfume. He’s a fan of deep heady scents, such as jasmine and he likes people around him to be entranced in one way or another, as it’s easier to get what you want that way.

Ludus has learned to love certain parts of his work, even in his free time - he does enjoy good recreational sexual acts or even as a work around to get past certain people barring his path from certain things. In Ludus’ opinion, if you have a resource like money, make sure to use it.

There are other aspects of his work that he does not tolerate while off the clock, and one of these is rude clients - he is a gossipy bitch and a bit of a ‘mean girl’, so he does expect rudeness to be directed at him BECAUSE of this, but if there is no reason then Ludus will lose his temper very quickly. Being rude to those providing you a service or to someone you’ve just met is abhorrent, an attitude that has mainly developed not from rudeness towards him, but from the protectiveness he feels towards fellow sex workers. Ludus EXPECTS to be slapped and then to charm the slapper anyway, but the same treatment should not be given to workers just doing their job. He has no fear of any kind of bigotry, and will happily challenge anyone who doesn’t think his sexuality is ‘right’.

He’s also not a fan of anyone who doesn’t think or do anything for themselves, as they remind him of himself in the past before he realised the truth of his situation, and now this quality in others repulses him. This attitude has now resulted in Ludus doing things by himself as much as possible to the point where he rarely asks for help - even when it may be needed.

Childhood/Backstory: 

Ludus was born a hellspawn to two highly religious humans, who were immediately appalled by what they had produced, as hellspawn were seen as an extremely bad omen, especially when brought into the world this way. He was immediately sold to the only person that would take him, the local brothel owner known as ‘The Wolf’, who “raised” them and set them to work in the brothel far, far earlier than they should have.  

To keep Ludus, the Wolf kept a close eye on what Ludus learned and knew, forbidding them to ever leave the establishment due to hatred of his species and that he, as his guardian, had ‘saved’ them, rather than it being a rather cruel and illegal transaction. Ludus does not remember anything about their parents, and has no interest in ever knowing them after knowing what they did. He assumed the Wolf knew best, and followed his every order and command. Ludus knew no life outside of the Lupanar and didn’t need to - here they were lavished with many gifts from many appreciative ‘sugar’ clients and praised for being pretty. It was true that he was beaten occasionally, isolated outside of clients, and had to do things he didn’t want to do sometimes - but wasn’t that just life? Here, Ludus had everything he needed.

As a result of this lifestyle, Ludus became very materialistic and became obsessed with the things that earned him praise: his body and skill. After all, the prettier they looked, the less they got hit and abused because after all, people wouldn’t want to hurt such a pretty face. He became dedicated to dance practice and his skincare routine, and obsessed with what he ate for fear of getting fat - so he rarely ate at all - but drinking was often just part of the job. When he was being difficult, the Wolf would often get him drunk or drug him, so that the client could be satisfied. Ludus was assured that this was for ‘his own good’.

The Wolf and his coworkers were the only family he had, and while not all the other workers were complacent in their treatment - they had no choice. Bound by magical contract, blackmail or under similar delusions as Ludus, they were a tightly knit group who took it upon themselves to help and teach each other. This group was the closest Ludus ever had to a school, from them he learned to dance, to have sex, to read, to write, to sing and to defend themself when required with knives or information. The Wolf kept a close eye on all this learning, making sure Ludus believed he could never work or be anywhere else. It wasn’t safe, he was too stupid, he was only good here - so Ludus stayed. 

It took many years for Ludus to build up the desire as well as the courage to rebel, and it was for the reason that there must be better wine out there. At age fifteen, they started to sneak out and rebel a little, frequenting other bars and offering their services and their discretion rather than the Wolf’s. While there he often got drunk and told his stories, to the horror of most who heard them. A child doing such things, and to sound happy about it, was horrific to witness firsthand.

Ludus was taken aback at these reactions as they told him what was done to him was wrong, abusive, illegal even!

No, that couldn’t be true…

With the seed of doubt sown, Ludus started to worry about his situation, but didn’t know how he could possibly leave a job he flourished in as well as his family. All he could think of was to gather information from clients, a task he had already been assigned to do by the Wolf. Sex workers were one of the ears of the city and their clients often had loose lips, or were persuaded to have them with pleasurable means. Ludus now started to hoard some of this information for himself, learning anything he could that could possibly be useful for an escape. Blackmail, ships, people of interest - anything he could find. He still had to tell the Wolf enough to satisfy him, but now Ludus did not tell him everything. Stealing spell books from clients and discovering that through his dancing, he could manipulate magic, he honed his talents in secret.

It took many years for an opportunity to arise and for Ludus to feel comfortable enough to leave. He started to distance himself from the other workers - passing it off as being too busy or too tired from work, but it was really just to make the ‘goodbye ‘ easier. On the week of the harvest festival, at the age of 22, Ludus disguised himself and “persuaded” the head of a large entertainment (the music and dancing kind) to hide him in their trailers so he could smuggle out of the city with a nary a word to anyone. He needed to leave the Lupanar at all costs.

While travelling to the next town - he met a couple people he liked and has so far stuck with them, although he is now developing the thick skin some of his other ex colleagues had and not getting too attached to anyone. Being on the outside and talking about his past is continuing to teach him the depths of the evil done to him, and he is not coping well. His trauma response so far has been to drink even more and in order to regain control over his body, he has taken to hypersexuality to do his old work on HIS terms alone. 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t ask for help and often will push people away with a stubborn “I can do it myself” or “I don’t need help” which has led to a lot of trouble and members of the troupe having to drag him out of it. Ludus is strong though, and he staggers (metaphorically) along as best he can, determined to overcome his past.

Profession: Sex Worker | Dancer | Bard

Relationships: 

The Lupanar

Ivellios | ‘The Wolf’ | Male High Elf | Age ??? | Max Lifespan: Around 750 years, presumably.

Ivellios ‘The Wolf’ - A High Elf Wizard that was disgraced from his settlement and family due to his dabblings in the slave trade. He decided to continue this work regardless, branching out into the sex industry. Starting small, he bought others and made them work for little profit until he could purchase a large building in a major city, naming it the Lupanar and really spreading his wings as a pimp that specialised in magical contracts. Ludus was sold to him after he had owned this building for twenty years, having quickly made a name for himself through this brothel. He raised Ludus for his own means with a combination of emotional, mental and physical abuse, forbidding his little toy from leaving the establishment and closely monitoring what Ludus consumed from outside those walls, shaping them into the perfect sex worker. He never thought Ludus would need a contract to stay but underestimated his quarry massively.

Kuqi | Stripper Name: Cookie | Female Goblin | Age 18 | Max Lifespan: Around 60 years

“Come and get your milk and kuqi’s!”

Kuqi ran away from her clan at age 5 (middle aged for an average goblin) before she had to mate with a variety of goblins she really didn’t like. Goblins usually live and die quickly, and there were not many of her clan left so as one of the remaining females, Kuqi was expected to be a brood queen to get the clan back to full strength. Unfortunately for the clan, Kuqi wanted something better, and so she ran away, eventually arriving at the city the Lupanar was based at. Ivellious was amused by her plight and so took her on as a worker at her request - the conditions of her contract being that as long as she continues to work, she gets bed, board and birth control and as a bonus - a longer lifespan than the average goblin.

Ludus was ten when she arrived, and the two have an odd relationship due to the drastically different age rates of their species, and arguably their heights as well. The relationship fluctuated from little sister to maternal figure for Ludus, and back in their youth they got into all sorts of trouble, both having a strong streak of mischief in them. He misses her terribly some days, but knows she wouldn’t leave the Lupanar as she is VERY grateful to Ivellios and LOVES her work.

Mival | Stripper Name: Angel | Male Aasimar | Age: 60 | Max Lifespan: Around 160 years

Born into a superstitious and  mostly human community, Mival was revered strongly as a blessing and a saviour for their small village. He was commanded to do all sorts of petty tasks - ones he found hard to refuse with his polite and mild mannered self. As he grew older, the pressure grew on him - and eventually, he cracked. At age 17, he ran away to the city and he found himself with no shelter, no job, no long term means of survival. But he was very pretty, and a brothel was looking for workers. With no long term goals in mind and wishing to hide from his village - Mival made a pact with Ivellious. In exchange for his service, Merval would be hidden from the village and the people there. Of course, he can leave if he wishes, but his old village isn’t far from the city and he’s not hard to miss with his stark white hair that almost glows in the light. Not knowing what else he could do, Mival stayed.

As one of the first workers hired for the Lupanar, he was age 37 by the time a baby Ludus arrived in Ivellios’ arms. Horrified at Ludus’ treatment, but bound by contract to stay, he did the best he could to be a proper father figure to Ludus. Despite being asked to by a variety of clients, he never touched Ludus sexually and even was known to lose his rarely seen temper when pestered about it. He’s a gentle man, living up to his alias and race and there is not a day where Ludus doesn’t feel like he’s disappointed him during his struggle. A little of Ludus’ strength comes from the gentle faith that this man placed upon him.

Haze | Stripper Name: Haze | Agender Changeling | Age: 55 | Max Lifespan: Around 100 years

Haze is a mysterious figure whose past is unknown, but arrived at the Lupanar at age 32, covered in blood and looking for work… or as they put it..’something better to do’. Ivellios doesn’t like hiring anyone without a contract, but made an exception for a Changeling who he knew would make him a LOT of money in this business and that he could always get dirt on them for a contract later. To this day he hasn’t succeeded in getting Haze to sign anything, and it’s driving him to new levels of repressed rage.

Ludus was 16 when Haze arrived, but Haze had a tendency to keep their distance from everyone - despite being extremely charming while they worked. Haze’s ability is where Ludus got the idea to disguise himself to leave and he often finds himself wondering who Haze is and where they came from.

The Moondroplet Entertainment Company

The M.E.C is full of hundreds of entertainers, but Ludus travelled in the same trailer as these two and so often pairs with them as their dancer to make their performances more visually interesting. Each split off troupe has a quota to make each day and with Ludus’ “extra services”, his group surpasses that easily, and the three of them get on well enough although Henk and Ash have known each other for about four years.

Henk | Flute Player | Male Orc | Age: 28 | Max Lifespan: Around 75 years

Henk was previously a nomadic tribal orc, but was ostracized from his tribe due to a gentler nature than the rest of his species. One day, while out scouting for food he saw the line of trailers and caravans and saw an opportunity to leave his tribe for good. It took some time to convince them he came in peace, but eventually after a few days of camping nearby they allowed him to camp with the rest of the troupe even later, join them. He learned to play the flute by shaving his tusks - and now regularly makes a habit of doing so or removing them for better airflow. When people meet him, they are surprised by his gentle nature and his excellent flute playing.

Ashley/Ash | Lyre Player | Female Fire Genasi | Age: 26 | Max Lifespan: Around 120 years 

You can’t miss Ash, she’s loud, proud and will bowl you over with her sound. The lyre player of the three, her playing is filled with fast, energetic melodies that Henk struggles to keep up with and Ludus relishes dancing to. Ludus and Ash bounce off each other very well, their banter often inducing a laugh out of their audiences on the streets and she’s even known to stoke a rare smile from Henk sometimes.

Ash rarely talks about her childhood, preferring to focus on the present with a crass and blunt attitude - but she does talk about her supportive, ex adventuring mother who told her to chase her dreams of being a musician. She regularly sends money back home to support her mother in her old age but curiously, does not speak of her father - who is rumoured to be a Fire Efreeti.

Location: ????

Previous: ‘The Lupanar’ - a large and well known brothel, owned by an elf known as ‘The Wolf, who has been in the business for many years.

Religious Beliefs: DND: Would most likely be a fan of a Dionysian type god, such as The Moonweaver. If there are no tangible gods like there are in DND, he would not give a toss. Money and himself are their gods then.

Goals: 

1) To start living their life for them.

2) Finding other things to enjoy.

3) Learn to interact and bond with people outside of a sex work setting.

Other | Trivia

CANON VOICE: Toddrick Hall. Singing and Speaking. (was Alaska Thunderfuck)

Character influences: Mollymauk Tealeaf, Angel Dust, Irene Adler

Physical Afflictions:  N/A 

Mental Illnesses: Body dysmorphia, PTSD

COMPLETE LIST OF PIERCINGS: 

Ears, both sides: Earlobe x4, Helix x4, Industrial, Tragus

Nose: Nose piercing, stud on each side. High Nostril, stud on each side, Septum.

Face: Eyebrow Piercing, one on both sides. (he wears the left the most.)

Lips: Snakebites, Medusa

Tongue: NONE - he has so many things in his mouth going in and out it’s dangerous.

Genital: Frenum ladder.

Tail: Eight, four on each side. Often studs, sometimes rings.

Other: Nipple (both), Hip, Collarbone, Naval.

He’s an aspect of me: Ludus is a fragment of me, specifically the part of my sexuality I can’t express because I’m not brave or attractive enough - so I made a character that was. He also got my eating issues from my youth, I didn’t eat sometimes because I didn’t want my father and brother to mock my cooking or what I was eating or because I just simply didn’t have the energy. I personally still have body issues but I’ve largely given up because I don’t want to exercise in a gym or people to look at me. Ludus is essentially made partially of a person I wish I could have been, mixed with my own repression. They’re their own person though, but they’re very close to my heart.

Ludus dances because I find good dance beautiful, it’s one of my favourite youtube rabbit holes I go down. He was made almost exactly a year and two months after a traumatic event, and I’m not sure if he’s a response to that yet. I think he’s mainly a repression response.

He’s attracted to power and people puppet masters but he knows they’re bad for him. Actual kindness is what he wants, to be someone's pet yet valued for who he is as an individual.

Intimidates others for power - Think IRENE ADLER

But they’re still mostly a sub and have to know they want something first, which is rare because he still doesn’t know what he wants.

He developed blackmail as a way to keep himself safe in the bar because no one else was gonna do it for him and it’s not like he could work anywhere else (well, that’s he was trained to believe).

Rarely shouts.

Can sing.

Urban Fantasy Setting Notes: His phone is black but usually has a bright pink bedazzled phone case with a pop socket. He adores it. Plays guitar in private (prefers acoustic - gentle vibes). Probably interested in learning piano. Has an OnlyFans and NSFW twitter under LEWDICROUS. 

Fantasy Setting Notes: Dance bard. Fond of using daggers. Rogue /bard? 

The Moondroplet Entertainment Company is indeed named as a nod to The Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities.

The lipstick comment “but Ludus is rarely seen without black lipstick, as anyone with a true sense of style knows that this is peak fashion” is absolutely a Homestuck, specifically a Kanaya reference, well, as close as I could get.

He was named on 27/07/2019 which is his sort of birthday, and he was tangled in with the “essence” of Lux for the longest time - I thought they were the same person. The original character idea was a half gnome/half tiefling bard with purple skin, and gold teeth. They were an absolute gremlin, but I couldn’t hone in on them because there was just nothing there - and then over a year or so Lux and Ludus developed. Arguably him and Lux are twins (not story wise tho), which is an idea I quite like.

[watery-lane]

The Night You Cared: Epilogue.

Pairing: Modern!Ivar Lothbrok x Reader

Summary: She is back. For how long?

Warnings: Angst

Words: 5340

A/N: End of my first Ivar fict! Hope you guys enjoyed it xx.

Part I / Part II 

Listen to: Stubborn Love - The Lumineers.

“He couldn’t even look at his parents faces after that. I swear to the gods, master students are just undergraduates on crack.” You rambled lightheartedly, phone on one of your hands and the heavy luggage rolling right next to you. “Oop, sorry.” You apologised to the old, white bearded man attempting to leave the building at the same time you tried to get in. “Thank you.” You mouthed with a smile and a scrunched nose, trying to look past the dark sunglasses of the man holding the door for you.

Ubbe released a short and breathy laugh. You could not see him, but you knew him well enough to notice he sounded way too distracted to formulate a proper answer to your anecdote. You knew he had things to tell you, bubbling under the surface like water about to boil, waiting patiently for you to finish with what you had to say as he always did.

Part of you already knew what he wanted to ask. As much as you loved Ubbe, his drive was wired the same way as all Lothbroks: business, business, business. Sure, he was located in the HR department and understood the way you saw things. But, as a Ragnarsson, he could not see your desire of avoiding a life between cubicles and constant phonecalls.

“Well,” you exhaled, “I’m officially back home.”

“In which hotel are you staying? I can pay you a visit as soon as I finish with these papers.” You could picture him letting go the papers on the table like white pigeons as he casually leaned back against his chair. You waited for the lift, eyes focused on the flicking numbers above your head.

Ubbe knew about your never recovered relationship with your parents. They never called you back, not even after the success of your new business was announced through local and regional media. Although for them, the news of you working for another sector other than theirs after the humiliation they had to endure at your graduation party may have felt like a slap in their faces. No one assisted to your masters graduation other than your remaining English friends. You did receive heartwarming messages from Aslaug and her sons, who apologised for not being there with you. It was a lonely ending for such an important stage of your life, but you swiftly got through it. Soon enough you got into a graduate scheme at the British council and a big part of you was relieved that you got to spend another year without facing the problems awaiting for you in Kattegat.

Now you had consumed all your borrowed time, leaving you drowning in the sterile sand clock you got yourself into, unable to put down roots in your hometown after your parents decided to pull them all out.

“Hotel Boneless and Co.” You mumbled through a dramatic sigh, stretching your arms up and puffing your chest as you heard the ding of the machine and the pop of your bones. You were carefully rolling your suitcase into the mirror covered lift when you heard the wheels of a chair rolling loudly on the other line. “I can send you my location if you don’t know where it is.” You joked as you pressed a button and stepped out of the lift. 

Ivar lived in one of the top floors of the building and you perfectly knew it was a suicide attempt to try and climb the stairs. But the thing was, you spent your whole day sitting on your ass and the last thing you wanted to do was to use your legs even less. ‘I’ll just call the lift once I feel tired’ you thought. ‘Nobody is going to steal my suitcase anyway.’ You brushed your concerns off, feeling the cosiness of class privilege surrounding you.

“Does Ivar know you’re staying at his place?” Although his voice sounded carefree, cautiousness and apprehension vibrated through his cherry picked words.

Your breath got caught up right in your throat, unsure if it was due to the fourth set of stairs you just rushed through or because you had no explanation for your mad reasoning. You shut your eyes briefly, licking your lips as you prepared to speak.

“It’s not like the first time I left, I promise.” You mumbled, your pulse thumping in your ears as you tried to not exhale heavily through the phone. “We actually talked during the past year.”

Technically, you were not lying. You two did spend time talking, sharing your everyday anecdotes through video calls or short text messages. He told you with pride about how the company stock was rising slowly but steadily, or how he was considering therapy. For his legs. On the other hand, you showed him your improving cooking skills and tenderly warned him about not stressing over things he could not control. 

Although, truth be told, that was nine months ago.

You were not to confess this, specially not to Ubbe, but although you tried, your conversations and overall relationship did not seem to endure the distance very well. Slowly withering like flowers deep into autumn, the last message you sent him was a picture of a smashed avocado toast you had for breakfast with the caption ‘The only thing I’m smashing these days smh’. A little grey bubble with the word ‘Yummy!’ seemed to be the full stop to your year long conversation.

It wasn’t until you stopped on the sixth floor, sore legs burning and short huffs escaping from your lips when you noticed the silence on the other line.

“That doesn’t answer my question, (Y/n).” Ubbe finally sighed, voice sounding tired all of the sudden.

“Well,” you strolled past the long corridor of the sixth floor, searching for the lift calmly. “we can consider myself as the best promotion gift he’s going to receive.” You smirked as you remembered the news.

A few months after your graduation you were informed by Bjorn about the death of Aslaug. You were told she died in a car crash, that the brothers were mourning, hence the lack of communication during those months. The oldest Ragnarsson did not seem phased about the news, which was understandable due to the lack of relationship he had with the woman. However, he was soon pulled into a legal battle between the Aslaugssons and Lagertha, with Ivar investing most of his time and resources in lawyers and private investigators, convinced that the death of his mother was planned. Because of that, he thought that the best idea was to leave Kattegat for awhile, investigating the markets of different nations to see if he could expand the legacy his father left.

You heard later on that Ivar won the legal battle after investing at least half of his wealth in lawyers and legal counsellors. In two days he was going to celebrate his rise, ‘just like a coronation’, Ubbe mocked, a bittersweet tone tinting his voice.

“(Y/n)...” Ubbe licked his lips as he leaned forward and rested his weight on his elbows.

“I know, I know, I should have called and said something,” you started to ramble, arms moving up and down as you got yourself in the lift, eyes locked on the lone suitcase left in the middle of the tiny space as you mindlessly pressed the last floor button. “but to be honest, would it really have been really necessary?”

“(Y/n). I can’t hear you.” Ubbe frowned as he started to hear your voice being cut repeatedly. 

 “I mean, it’s only been one year, what could have changed? What could he have done?”

“(Y/n).”

“Sell the loft his dear mother bought him? Developed a God complex? Join a cult? Get married?” You blew a raspberry, rolling your eyes as you heard the ding and saw the doors slide wide open.

At the other end of the line, Ubbe shifted his weight as he tapped his index and middle finger on the shiny table. Its a small gesture, but it helps relieving the pressure he started to feel on himself. At that time you reached the silver door, your virgin nails pressing down the doorbell as your ears processed the sweet ring that came with it.

“Ivar has... changed a little bit.” Ubbe mentions, not sure where to restart the conversation. He acknowledged he could have been a better brother to his little one, maybe they would have never reached this situation. “You will be surprised.” You kept yourself quiet for a moment, a discreet side smirk making your eyes squint.

“I’m sure I’ll figure him out.” You praised yourself, lowering your voice to a mere whisper as you talked to yourself. “I’m pretty sure we were built together by the gods anyway.”

“Huh?” Ubbe squinted, tilting his head as he could hear you talking under your breath.

“Uh nothing,” you fidgeted while you looked around, weirded out by the fact that Ivar did not seem to be at home on a weekend afternoon. Your free hand rested on your hip as you looked around, foot tapping rhythmically at the melody on your head as you pressed the button again. “Oh.”

“What?” Ubbe straightened his back.

For a mere second, your furtive eyes captured a swift move of lights and shadows slipping under the door frame, your eyes blinking rapidly at the sudden vision as you shook your head confused.

“I uh... I think I just saw someone... walking past the door?” You frowned, brushing it off as tiredness while you picked your stuff on the floor. “Never mind, I think he’s not at home. I’ll call Warwick and book a room.” You started to walk away from the door, suitcase rolling behind you as you strolled back into the lift.

“Oh wow, the little rich girl can only afford four star hotels right now?” Ubbe mocked, knowing perfectly you would be pissed at his comment, snickering as you told him to fuck off. “(Y/n)...” He called your name after your giggles died down, the sudden cold tone making you shiver with anticipation. “Have you thought about the offer?” He asked cautiously, not wishing to rush you into making any decisions. You already had a lot on your plate and something told him your stay here would end up breaking you.

“Ubbe... I—“ You hesitated. “I’m not going to lie, Haiti sounds nice and the job position sounds tempting.” Your inner cheek felt the bite of your teeth, your hips rocking forward and backwards as you stretched down. “but I’ve got things I wish to take care of in Kattegat now.” You smiled at your last sentence, the thought of your little local at the heart of your hometown and its co-owner crossing your mind. “I no longer need to run away anymore.”

 At the other side of the door, a distracted Ivar calmly read the financial reports of the last months as he sipped whiskey neat, never raising his head while he put the glass down on the counter.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know... a seller, maybe?” A sugary and melodic voice spoke behind him, bare feet squeaking on the wooden floor as she moved back to the sofa, carefree. “It’s okay, I don’t think she knows we were at home.”

“That’s not possible, sellers are not allowed into the building.” Ivar considers, eyes looking up as he processed who could have been. Since your departure and the death of his mom, with Floki and Helga away, nobody ever visited him much. His brothers would see him every weekday at the offices and Erik was only there when he needed a ride. Only Freydis was around now and that was completely fine by him. She knew what he needed. She knew how special he really was.

“It was this woman talking on the phone with huge suitcases, she must be selling kitchenware or insurances or something.” She responded vaguely as she stood up at the sight of her fiancé perking his head up after hours focused on his job.

“Wait...” He stood still, his sudden hunch making his stomach churn. He felt the bare arms of his loved one caress and hug his chest and shoulders from behind, the hypnotising and honey like scent invading his senses like an anaesthetic. Notwithstanding, that little annoying feeling in his gut never left. “Darling, where is my phone?” He asked, his fiancée leaving his side as she looked for the device.

SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK - Joji

You pursed your lips as you idly passed your hands over your gown, the sound of your heels clicking on the ground drowned by the numerous voices echoing in the tall, french style ceilings. You were pretty surprised your name was actually on the guest list. You had previously joked with Bjorn about being his plus one and how he was 88% sure he’d end up gods know were like Sigurd if Ivar ever saw you entering the gala joined by the hip, pretty certain Ivar did not know about your arrival. Guess you couldn’t surprise him anymore, cursing his brothers for telling him you were back in Kattegat. 

The spot was not exactly like the one where your downfall took place, yet it filled your heart with the same sadness and anxiety, as if you were about to live another disappointment all over again. As you reached the main room, your walked more cautiously, as if the marble tiles were the ones marked and in charge of causing you pain if you took the wrong step.

“Nice dress.” You heard a feminine yet deep voice speaking to you, making you raise your head and brows.

The woman in front of you looked like a goddess. Like an actual goddess.

She could even be Freya, dark locks running free and caressing her shoulders, an aura of mystery covering her tall frame as she walked past an speechless you. Damn the wealthy and the powerful. Damn Ivar and his godlike contacts.

You couldn’t even say thank you, the woman long gone as she approached an oddly familiar old man at the other end of the room.

You shook your head in confusion, looking around trying to find any known faces to hold yourself onto.

“Well well well, look who we have here?” Your heart fluttered with joy as you saw the blond, long haired Ragnarsson approach you with the cheekiest grin in Kattegat.

“Hvitty!” You beamed, a shiny smile parting your lips as you reached for a hug. “Look at you, who’s the lucky one taking you home tonight?” You winked, hands grabbing the lapels of his suit tenderly.

“Well the night is still young, but I can put you first on the waiting list if you want to.” You released a careless laugh, throwing back your head as you cheerfully shook your head.

“I’m afraid my mind is already taken, baby.” You rolled your eyes, finally feeling the happiness that had been gradually dripping away from you coming back. “And this,” you pointed at your body as you twirled, “is a package deal.”

You noticed his blue eyes seemed way too out of focus for a brief moment, contrasting deeply with the airy laugh he released at your joke. You wondered what had he seen, body slowly turning back until you hear him talking to you again.

“C’mon, are you telling me you didn’t fool around in York?” Hvitserk raised his brow. Your lips parted, the ghost of a smile adorning your face as you shook your head. 

“I love your brother, Hvitserk.” You confessed with a weak voice, not willing to let the rest of the party hear such open secret coming from your mouth. “I always have. I mean,” you huffed, shaking your head, “he’s a hell of a person to love, let’s just say I had to learn to love him.” You swore to the gods you had never seen Hvitserk, the most careless family member of the Lothbroks, look so concerned as he listened to you, his spark dying down as words left your mouth. “I— I know we’ve clashed for so long, and I’ve figured out that the truth is, we got to make sacrifices for the people we love. I resented him for so long because I thought he was selfish and he hated me at the same time because he thought I was selfish.” You took a deep breath as you reached your conclusion, ignoring how the young Ragnarsson kept looking behind you nervously. “And all of this was because... We were way too obsessed with the desire of having everything going your way. The night I let the past go was the best night of my life.” Hvitserk swallowed before looking at you.

“Is this why you decided to keep your share of the bar and reject Ubbe’s offer?”

“(Y/n?)” You felt every part of your body tingle at the sound of your name, blood rushing in your ears as you turned around. Your eyes were wide open, making their way up the suited up person that was now standing right in front of you.

“Ivar.” You whispered, eyes heavy and blurry sight as you hugged him tightly.

He hugged you back, the tip of his nose pressed against your head as he inhaled your scent, heart at ease and mind in peace at last. 

“Ivar, look at you,” You cupped his face as you separated, lips travelling straight towards his. To your surprise he pushed away your hips slightly with his free hand, making you miss your target as you kept your hands where they were. “You can walk?” He nodded, eyes full of you and pupils so dilated to take you in better. Yet his face seemed expressionless, the force of his emotions hidden and tucked away.

Maybe that should have served you as a sign that things had truly changed.

“Yes, princess, I can walk.” He repeated, voice as soft as the touch that indicated you to stay a few steps away from him. You frowned slightly this time, your heart clenching painfully.

“Hey, you must be (y/n)!” A cheerful woman came by with Ubbe, who stayed behind her with a defeated look. Her little frame got close enough to pull you into her embrace, letting you know how glad she was of meeting you at last.

The two oldest brother exchanged a hardened glance, lips pursed as they observed how everything slowly started to crumble.

“So you’re the girl who made this guy human?” She stands by Ivar, puppy eyes looking up as if she devoted everything she had to him.

“I... guess?” You hesitated. “And you are?”

The petite blonde woman raises her left hand, showing a hard yet so fragile stone reflect every single beam of light in the room.

So bright were the reflections, they actually burned you down.

You could hear a lot of people talk and see her lips moving as if someone slowed down time, as if you died went to Hel with Hela and the doomed ones.

Then you looked at Ivar, his eyes never looking at you. That is when you noticed: you couldn’t read him anymore.

He didn’t seem to have only started a new chapter.

He started a whole new book.

You were pretty much out of the conversation at that point. You heard her name was Freydis, that she applied for a position as his assistant in the past. That she never thought she’d become the wife of the CEO.

“The nurse got really pissed when she heard he had been walking around without crutches before he started treatment.” Freydis said sweetly, hand on his chest as she caressed it with care. The statement snapped you out of your trance, eyes immediately finding Ivar, who shook his head slightly to the sides in an attempt to calm you down. He knew you were going to blame yourself for that. You were not at fault, in fact, you were the main reason why he tried to become better in every single way possible. Because that was what you deserved, because that was what you were. “He could have hurt himself with whatever he was attempting to do.”

Apparently, she also convinced him to get therapy for his strong mood swings and past traumas.

Little did she know, the decision came from Ivar after the last time he was with you. But you didn’t know that either and your heart broke a little bit more with every anecdote she told, every single story where she miraculously came and fixed the mistakes you made.

You could see how she was making him a better person.

“... But Ivar doesn’t really like to dance... yet.” It felt like a rambling at that point, a certain tint of fanaticism dyeing the conversation and turning it sour. You were tired at that point, eyes almost permanently stuck on the ground if it wasn’t from the tears you had to get rid of my looking up. You shot your eyes at him the moment you processed her last words, wondering expression etched on your face while he cleared his throat and looked away. It didn’t seem like him. You remember he used to insist on you to dance, like an ‘ordinary folk’.

The truth was, you never got to dance together. Too many things changed through the years, and there was this one thing he didn’t want to change too, which was how you were his first in everything worth remembering. Memories were simply sweeter with you in it. Because, as Freydis said, you made him human. 

The thing was, he needed to be a God now.

He knew that you would be happier doing what you do, being free and helping people in ways he couldn’t even phantom.

Letting you go like this was the biggest sacrifice he will ever make.

To have you as a business partner would suffice, he always loved to watch you be you, working your ass off, to care so deeply about everybody like nobody else in his circle ever does.

“Ivar, Harald and Astrid are here.” Hvitserk finally intervened, the sight of your weakened state too much for your partner in crime to bear. Ivar nodded, sorry eyes staying a little bit longer on your hardened features before following his fiancée and brother.

“How was I not invited to the engagement party?” You asked to Ubbe, eyes still locked on your now ex’s back. Just like you couldn’t put a finger on when it started, you couldn’t really think of when your relationship ended.

“Cause it was nine months ago.” Ubbe mumbled, helping you put the little pieces together. You nodded.

“How?” You swallowed, not sure if you wanted to know. “How did they meet?” Ubbe pursed his lips, tilting his head tiredly as he sighed.

“She was a call girl Ivar used to hire regularly.” He tried to brush it off by shrugging. “I am not sure what happened, but Ivar started to get back to his old habits after you left. The only thing that remained the same was the local you guys own, he regularly checked everything was alright. One day Hvitty and I saw her leaving our offices, all suited up and everything.” You nodded, encouraging to keep going. “And boom, all of the sudden, after Lagertha’s trial, they were engaged.” He exhaled. You remained silent, feeling how a sneaky tear streamed down your face. “(Y/n)?”

“I think I need some air.” You whispered, stepping away from the oldest Aslaugsson and the rest of the crowd.

At least here out in the starless night you could blame your runny nose and teary eyes on the cold.

“Remember when we used to laugh at those sappy ass couples?” You asked out loud after standing by yourself for a while, heart more serene now that you took your time to accept that maybe you were not as good for him as you thought. You wait for Ivar to get closer, the sound of his crutches marking his distance rhythmically. You turn around and you can see concern itched on his features, lips parted as he looked down, checking the damage he had done. You force a smile instead, your fist hitting his shoulder playfully as you spoke. “Seems like you are one now.”

Ivar looked at Freydis slowly, who remained inside with Ubbe and Torvi, letting a sigh relief his chest.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

It was such a change of dynamics what Ivar experienced. With you, love and intimacy was never rom-com worthy. Love was roasting each other every other day, picking up on each others scars while making sure they never open again. Love was natural, fluid.

Now with Freydis, he seemed to need to prove her where she remained in his circle in a daily basis, lovey dovey words making sure she knew where she stood in his life. Truth be told, it was easier this way to love someone. He just needed to make sure to shower her with nice things, just like she did when she saw him doubting himself.

“How does it feel to be permanently tall now?” You asked, trying to change the subject as you felt the tenderness of his voice as he spoke about his future wife.”Don’t you feel like you’re going to fall at anytime?” Ivar smirks, resting himself in the railing you were pointing at.

“Nah.”

“What if I pushed you though.” You joked lightly, hand on his back as if you were truly going to do so. Ivar shrugs calmly before looking at you.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time you make me fall.” You roll your eyes, remembering the conversation you had the first night where everything seemed to be in the right place.

“Oh, c’mon, I already apologised and I don’t even remember it.” You refer to that time you supposedly made him stand up for the first time.

Ivar smiled nostalgically. He didn’t mean that.

“You know I’ll be around if you need me.” Ivar promised sincerely after staring at you for what it seemed like an eternity, getting closer to you as you nodded weakly. “I have to go and give a speech now, please wait for me until I finish it, alright? Be there for me.” He placed a finger under your chin as he inspected your face, puffy eyes, blood flushed cheeks and pouted lips revealing the damage he had done.

He just wanted to ask for a dance, discreetly, before his wedding day takes away the chance of feeling you twirling around him on his last first dance.

His hand held your fingers tightly. 

Rough skin never felt so soft, the warmth of his touch contrasting with the cold blue eyes staring at you. His brows were slightly furrowed, solely noticeable for the ones that dared to stand closer to him. Marks appeared on his forehead, horizontal lines crossing out the words his parted lips refused to let out of his mind. Ivar was holding himself back, letting the fire of his fears and yearnings consume him from within. Only his eyes exposed his introspection, your heart clenching as you saw him process his thoughts. It did feel like he was holding to you for dear life, not wanting to let go like a kid who caught his first butterfly.

Until he did.

He took a step back, glancing briefly towards your direction before parting, heavy steps ringing in your ears louder than the classical music playing in the room.

He was not going to leave.

But you knew, deep down, that he was gone already.

You followed suit and collected all your strength left to move yourself into the room. Your legs seemed to burn, unwilling to take you closer to the golden stage for someone to end your remaining emotional and mental health left with a few words.

You see from afar how he gets onstage with Freydis, who hugged his broad frame with care before he grabbed the mic. He started talking about his father, how everything started with him and how Aslaug maintained the business when he was gone. He talked about taking risks, success and investing in things that had value and fight for them.

"Enough about business, tell us about that piece of cake next to you!” A family friend shouted, his huge round tummy serving as a place to rest his hand, his braided beard caressing his exposed skin as he laughed. 

Ivar, standing right above the crowd, seemed to throw daggers with his stare, unhappy that a drunk man interrupted his ceremonial speech. But next to him the woman he was going to spend his life with giggled carelessly, getting closer to him with the wish of her fiancé to sing her praises to everybody in the room. 

“How did that woman you love ‘successfully invested’ in you!” He speaks again and at this point, Ivar is fuming. 

You looked around concerned, knowing that your childhood friend was short fused and may do something that could trouble him sooner or later. It didn’t help that the rest of the crowd was laughing too, insisting on him to talk about his fiancée, asking for him to be vulnerable in front of everybody. 

You saw Freydis calmly poking him with his elbow and how his eyes were about to pop out of his head. But then he leaned down and let her whisper in his ear and gradually, slowly, his mood seemed to change as the crowd quieted down at the sight of him clearing his throat and picking the mic to speak again.

You frowned, not sure of what poison did she give him for Ivar to suddenly change that way.

“See, you just need to show her something, something she’s never done before. Something that captures your attention, that is good enough to capture her soul. And — and she will take her time to learn” Ivar starts, eyes seemingly fixed somewhere far away from the stage. Somewhere like the very last lines of people standing in front of him, listening to him. “She simply makes something better out of it. Something brighter, even though you didn���t even think it could be possible. Even though you couldn’t even phantom you’d need so much light in your life, she proves you wrong, just like she does in every fight.” Ivar paused to chuckle, remembering the time he tried to convince you to hire strippers for the club. 

Everybody laughed after a deep collective ‘aww’ and he can feel the person standing next to him shift her weight and getting closer to him with affection. But he already was way too deep into his memories, pulling out good moments and unsaid words for the public to see how consolidated his relationship was. His tone shifted at the same time he noticed from afar how you start to break down, eyes not being able to look at him as your chest trembled. He was not aware of the harm those words would do to you without applying his own context, yet he begged for you to figure out that everything he said, he said it about you. 

“And...” Ivar swallowed, vulnerability starting to drip from every word he said. “And the thing is, she doesn’t even do it because of you. She doesn’t search for nobody’s approval. She just loves to make things better. That’s her gift, that’s her growth.”

Ivar finished and, for a brief moment, everybody remained silent. It took a minute, but then everyone seemed to burst into applause, everybody but three dumbfounded brothers looking at their youngest sibling as if he had lost his damn mind.

By the time he got closer to Freydis for a kiss you were choking in your own tears, your throat too tightly closed it seemed too difficult for you to breathe. Was this the reason why he wanted you to stay? To hear what he had to say about his fiancée? 

You shook your head, searching for the oldest Aslaugsson in the crowd.

You had enough.

"Ubbe, do you have a minute?” You asked weakly, doe eyes looking at the ground for a brief moment before gaining your composure again.

“Yeah,” he apologised to the guests he was with “what’s wrong?” He moved closer to you, the glass of champagne in his hand and the conversation he was participating in long forgotten.

“You were right.” You admitted your defeat, your head high and your chest puffed out. “I accept the offer.” You managed to let out as you took a few steps back, ignoring the way Ubbe said your name, with pity and sadness tearing through you as if you were a poor broken toy. “Tell Hvitty he can keep my share of the bar.”

Part I / Part II / Sequel (Words Into Smoke)

About tags:

I have recently lost all tags and at this point idk what to do to keep all tags in place. Please send me an ask if you know any ideas!

Old taglist:

@aesstheticallypleasing @captstefanbrandt @unicornbaby741 @fuckthatfeeling @huffelpuffers @yannii04 @collecting-stories

[peaceisadirtyword]

Hate (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!💕 I had this idea when I finished my exams, thinking about my holidays. As I love the enemies to lovers thing (especially with a character like Ivar, who literally hates everyone), I ended up writing this😅 I’m working now in Crush part 4 and Secrets.

If you like this idea, I'll write a few more parts♥️ Thank you for reading😘

Warnings: insults, Ivar is an ass, mentions of sex, my bad writing again. 

Words: 3561

gif belongs to @allvikingsfanfic

When your best friend Hvitserk invited you to his family's cabin in Sweden to spend the summer, you immediately said yes. Not only because your holidays would be the most boring ones in years as you didn't really have any plans, but also because you missed your best friend a lot, and to spend some weeks with him was the best opportunity to catch up with each other's lives. 

His brother's didn't bother you, in fact you had a very good relationship with Björn, Ubbe and Sigurd, who alongside Hvitserk had played the role of 'Y/N's big brothers' since you were born. 

Your mother was a very good friend of Aslaug, and that meant you spent more time at the Lothbrok's than at your own home. You were always playing with them, even though you were younger than the five brothers. With the years, Hvitserk was the one who grew closer to you, to the point that both your mothers thought you were dating when he was your date for the graduation party your high school threw every year. 

Of course, between you and Hvitserk there was nothing. You loved him and he loved you, but only as friends. He was like a brother to you, and you would never look at him in that way. 

You had had a big crush on Björn and Ubbe when you were younger, and then on Sigurd, when he started playing music and invited you to the small concerts he gave around the city.

You even had a thing with Sigurd, hooking up with him a few times and even going on dates with him, but it didn't last. 

And then there was Ivar. 

Ivar hated you, you didn't remember doing anything worthy of his hate, but he went from being nice to you to ignoring you at all, and only speaking to insult you, getting on your nerves. 

So the only thing that bothered you about spending the summer with the Lothbroks was Ivar's presence. You tried to be nice to him, you really did, but he didn't let you. 

In spite of that, you were really looking forward to your holidays. 

That morning, your father drove you to the Lothbrok's house, from where you'd depart to Uppsala, Sweden, where Ragnar and Aslaug had a giant house next to a beautiful lake. You would go by car, crossing the Øresund Bridge to enter Sweden. 

You weren't a huge fan of long trips by car, but at least you'd have Hvitserk to do one of your amazing carpool karaokes (you had a six hours long playlist only for that) and talk about stupid things until you arrived. 

But, your plans were quickly turned down. 

When you arrived at the Lothbrok's door, you didn't even have to ring the bell. Hvitserk opened the door and laughed as he picked you up and hugged you tightly.

"Finally!" He laughed, kissing your temple before leaving you on your feet again "I thought I'd never see you again"

You rolled your eyes, a wide smile on your lips. 

"Don't overreact, it was just a month, I had exams"

"You didn't even pick up my calls!" He whined, making you laugh. 

Before you could answer, someone hugged you from behind with such a force that almost made you fall down. 

"Look who's finally here!" Ubbe kissed your cheek softly, smiling. 

"Ubbe!" You laughed, trying to keep your balance "Why are you taller?" 

"I'm not, you're just shorter" he snickered, and Hvitserk chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head as Ubbe let you go.

Björn and Sigurd were the next ones greeting you, with a tight hug and a soft kiss on your cheek. 

Aslaug smiled widely at you and hugged you as Ragnar greeted your father after winking at you. 

And just when you finished saying hello, you looked behind Hvitserk. 

You knew and understood that Torvi would go with all of you. She was Björn's wife, and she'd obviously join you on the holidays. But you weren't expecting them. 

Margrethe was Ubbe's girlfriend... Or something like that. You knew she had had a thing with all the brothers (except Björn) before she started dating Ubbe. But then Hvitserk told you they had an open relationship and that he was with her too.

You didn't truly agree with that arrangement. You knew your friend, and he was falling for that girl... And you didn't want him to suffer. You had met her a few times, she hadn't been too talkative with you, but she wasn't that bad. 

And then the other girl, you couldn't really remember her name... Hvitserk had told you she was Sigurd's new girlfriend. 

Though the fact that they going with you wasn't how you had planned the holidays, you supposed there was nothing wrong with them joining you... 

"Hello" you tried to be nice, smiling softly at them. Margrethe smiled and greeted you with a hug. 

"I'm Blaeja" the other girl smiled at you too. She was pretty, with dark hair and clear eyes. 

"Y/N" you smiled back at her "Nice to meet you" 

"Well" Björn was already putting the luggage on the cars' trunks "Now that we're all here... Shall we leave?" 

You nodded and went to say goodbye to your father with a hug. He made you promise you'd call him as soon as you arrived and would text him everyday. 

"You're coming in our car, aren't you, Y/N?" Hvitserk put your suitcase on the trunk of Ubbe's car without even waiting for your answer. 

"I suppose so" you raised your eyebrow, opening Ubbe's car to put your backpack inside. Looking around, you realized someone was missing "Where's...?"

The sound of the crutches on the floor just behind you interrupted you. You turned around to see Ivar, walking with his crutches and, of course, glaring at you. 

"Hello, Ivar" you greeted, politely. Usually, you'd ignore him to avoid his rudeness, but you wanted a peaceful holiday, and didn't want to spend weeks arguing with him. 

While Björn, Ubbe and Hvitserk had always acted like your older brothers, and Sigurd and you had a special story that made you fond of each other, Ivar couldn't stand you... It seemed that didn’t change.

Usually, you would ignore him, but sometimes he got on your nerves and made you jump and insult him back. It resulted in a constant bickering that his brothers hated, and which ended up with you biting your tongue and blushed in anger and he smirking victoriously and laughing at you. 

Maybe he's not in the mood for arguing during the holidays, either.

"Who invited her?" He rolled his eyes, scowling at you as he walked over to the car. 

You bit your lip and breathed deeply.

Of course, Ivar is always in the mood for arguing. 

"Ivar" Hvitserk frowned at his little brother "I invited her, she's my best friend and I wanted her to spend the holidays with us"

"Whatever" he rolled his eyes again. You scoffed and followed Björn to help him to get the things into the car. 

"Hey" Hvitserk lowered his voice and narrowed his eyes at Ivar "We don't need your bickering, can you please try and be nice at Y/N?" 

Ivar sighed, shaking his head before opening the Ubbe's car door to sit on the co-driver seat. 

_______________________________________________________________________

When Hvitserk asked you to go with them to Uppsala, you saw it as an opportunity to spend as much time with your best friend, to catch up, do stupid things together and eat more pizza than your body could take. 

Apparently, Hvitserk didn't see it like that. 

Ubbe was driving, Ivar sitting next to him, with his seat thrown back. It barely left any space for you to sit comfortably, but he needed to have his legs stretched. 

Next to you on the back seat there was Margrethe. And then Hvitserk next to her. They spent the whole trip making out. It wasn't like you couldn't stand it, but the annoying sound of their kisses, and Margrethe's soft moans when Hvitserk's hand caressed her thigh or her breast made you roll your eyes and sigh. 

You were trying to read a book, listening to the music from Ivar's Spotify, trying to ignore the sounds next to you and not to cringe watching Ubbe bit his lip and smirk every time Margrethe giggled or moaned. Ivar looked bored and annoyed too, scrolling down his phone and rolling his eyes. Sometimes, he'd look at you through the rear-view mirror, making you shift uncomfortably on your seat.

When you were already in Sweden, Ivar started moving his seat back. You supposed it was because he needed more space for his legs, so you didn't say anything and just tried to find a comfortable position without bothering him. 

But when he trapped your legs between his seat and yours you gasped in pain and hit the back of his seat. 

"Ivar, can you please stop moving your seat?" You clenched your jaw, closing your book. 

"I need to get comfortable, my legs hurt" he scoffed.

Ubbe and Hvitserk sighed loudly. They knew once you started you wouldn't stop. 

"Well, you have more than enough space, you don't need to break my knees!" 

A simple glance over his shoulder was enough to confirm your suspects, his legs were completely stretched. 

"Ivar" Hvitserk sighed "Please, move your seat a bit so Y/N can at least sit properly".

"I won't" he shrugged, smirking in victory when you rolled your eyes.

"Ivar you're hurting me" you complained, but he ignored you, unlocking his phone again. 

Ubbe glared at his little brother. 

"Ivar, please, move"

"I won't move just because she wants to, no one told me she was coming and I didn't want to be locked in a car with her for hours"

"Well, having to hear your whining and looking at your stupid face for weeks wasn't my ideal plan for my holidays, but here I am" you replied.

Margrethe gasped at your words and looked at you with wide eyes. Ubbe bit his lip and Hvitserk chuckled. 

Ivar was more furious now, glaring at you with his fists clenched. 

"Then why did you came?" 

"Because I was invited" you pushed his seat again.

"Well, Hvitserk invited you because he pities you, as you don't have any other friends who would want to spend a single minute with you, so..."

"Please" Ubbe groaned "Just fuck and stop fighting"

You widened your eyes, looking at him with your mouth open. 

"Hate sex is the best thing ever, you'll enjoy it" Hvitserk laughed, and Ivar growled at his brothers. 

"Shut up" you glared at Hvitserk. 

"I bet you they'll fuck each other's brains out in less than two weeks" said Ubbe smirking. 

"Well, Y/N is a very proud person, I think it will be three weeks"

"Excuse me?" You scoffed "I would never fuck Ivar"

"Not that you could, anyway" he glared at you.

"I don't want to" you replied to him, raising your eyebrow.

"Come on, guys, we're only joking" Hvitserk smirked at you "But you know, it would be easier for us if you use all that energy in fucking each other instead of arguing"

"Hvitserk!"

_______________________________________________________________________

The rest of the trip was like a nightmare. You had finished your book already, and Ivar wouldn't stop bothering you. Hvitserk and Margrethe nearly fucked next to you and you just needed to get out of the car and stretch your legs. You almost cried in relief when you saw the Lothbrok's house. 

It was a big wooden house that looked like a mansion. It had a swimming pool on the backyard and was next to one of the many lakes in Sweden. It was only a twenty minute drive from Uppsala and Ragnar had it built when he married Aslaug. 

It wasn't the first time you went to spend your holidays in there, so you knew the house perfectly. Your favorite part was the kitchen. It had a beautiful view of the lake and the nearest town. The other part of the house was surrounded by forest, with the small path that lead to the main road. 

When you finally could get out of the car and stretch you legs, you almost moaned in relief, glaring at Ivar, who smirked. 

"Okay" Björn was already opening the door "Torvi and I will sleep in Ragnar's bedroom" it didn't surprise you, as the married couple they got the main bedroom "Then Sigurd and Blaeja on another"

"Margrethe and I will take another" Ubbe smiled, putting his arm over Margrethe's shoulders.

"And I suppose Hvitserk will join you" Björn raised an eyebrow and Hvitserk winked at him "Okay so... Ivar in his room and Y/N, you can stay in Hvitserk's room, if you want to"

You nodded with a smile. You loved Hvitserk's room. It was the one with a small balcony from which you could see the lake.

The house had six rooms; the main one and five more, one for each brother. They all were similar, with a king sized bed, a big window, a balcony and a giant wardrobe. There was three bathrooms, the big one was inside Ragnar's bedroom, and the other two were shared by the brothers. 

You sighed while entering Hvitserk's room. You'd have to share the bathroom with Ivar. 

Both bathrooms were big, but the one that was near Hvitserk's and Ivar's room was adapted so Ivar could use it without hurting himself. 

Great, just what you needed. 

It was already dark outside, and by the time all of you reunited in the kitchen, Hvitserk had already started cooking dinner and had eaten half of it. 

"So, Y/N" Torvi smiled at you from the other side of the table "How were your exams?"

"Good" you smiled back at her "I passed"

"My girl is so smart" Hvitserk, who was sitting next to you hugged you tightly. He had drank five beers and was too touchy "I'm so proud"

You could hear Ivar's eyes roll as you giggled and tried to get away from Hvitserk's arms. 

"Oh, I'm thinking on applying for university" Blaeja fixed her big eyes on you with excitement "But I don't know if it will be too much, I'm already studying music, so..."

"Blaeja is one of the best singers in Denmark" Sigurd cleared his throat and smiled proudly. His girlfriend blushed a bit before smiling shyly.

"He's exaggerating... I mean, I want to be a singer and focus on my music career, but I think I should study at uni, only to have something else in case I don't succeed"

You opened your mouth to answer her, but Ivar interrupted you. 

"Do it, you'll starve if you depend on Sigurd's career"

Blaeja bit her lip. Like Margrethe, she seemed to be afraid of Ivar, you didn't really understand why. Surely, he had a really bad temper, but he wasn't that scary... 

"Ivar, shut up, no one asked for your opinion" Sigurd rolled his eyes "Leave her alone"

"Do you really think that singing in pubs is success, brother? Because all those people that were there didn't even know who you are" he shrugged, taking a sip of his beer. 

Next to you, Hvitserk ignored him, finishing his plate. Ubbe pressed his lips together and frowned while looking at his little brother and Björn sighed. 

Torvi, too used to these fights, was scrolling on her phone, ignoring Ivar's ranting. 

"At least" you narrowed your eyes at Ivar "Sigurd is doing what he likes, and working hard to become an artist, you on the other hand are always complaining and doing nothing"

Hvitserk choked on his food, and Margrethe gasped again. 

"Of course you'd defend him" Ivar glared at you "Blaeja, did you know that Y/N hooked up with my brother? They had a very... Passionate love story, that ended when he got tired of her and moved on... Be careful"

"Hey, Ivar, careful" said Hvitserk. He wasn't serious very often, but he got pretty mad when Ivar insulted you.

"That was years ago, Ivar!" You blushed "Sigurd and I are friends, nothing more, so shut up"

"Ignore him, Y/N" Sigurd rolled his eyes "He wants attention, don't give it to him"

Ivar opened his mouth to reply, but Torvi, who had been around them enough to know where the fights should be stopped, got up from her seat.

"We can go to the lake's shore and lit a fire, I brought marshmallows" she offered happily. 

Hvitserk almost moaned when he heard the word marshmallows and agreed immediately. 

"Okay" you got up from your seat too, taking your plate "You guys go out and lit the fire, I'll clean up a bit"

"I can stay and help you" Blaeja offered with a smile.

"No, it's okay, I can manage"

"If you need help, tell us" Torvi kissed your cheek before running to her and Björn's bedroom to get the marshmallows. 

_______________________________________________________________________

It could sound weird, but cleaning the kitchen relaxed you a lot. You could focus on washing the dishes and cleaning the counters and not think about anything else. After the long period of exams, you appreciated it. 

But of course, you couldn't even have a fucking minute of peace. 

"Honestly, I didn't know you'd be pathetic enough to come here this year"

You breathed deeply. Ivar was the only one who didn't get out with the others, choosing to stay sitting on his chair and looking at you with a smirk.

"I mean, you thought you'd come here to spend time with Hvitserk, but he has his own plans already" he snickered "Are you ready to spend a whole summer cleaning the house and reading books all alone while everyone in here fucks day and night?"

You sighed, rubbing your eyes before turning around to face him. 

"Hvitserk is not like that" you replied, and Ivar raised an eyebrow "Well, okay he's like that, but he won't spend the whole summer fucking, and neither will the rest of your brothers. And who says I'll clean the house, Ivar?"

"I know you will, you start cleaning everything when you are nervous or bored" he smirked, watching you as you washed the first plate for the second time "And you do nothing more than read and watch Netflix, so..."

"I do a lot of things"

"Sure" he bit his lip "Tell me, Y/N, do you regret coming here knowing everyone here will fuck except for you?"

"Oh my god, Ivar, please, just go out with the others, or go to your room, or go to hell, but please leave me alone for a minute"

"I'm just trying to have a conversation with you, it isn't my fault you're so bitter"

"No, Ivar, I do not regret coming here, though if you keep talking to me I might do it" you rolled your eyes "Besides, you won't be fucking anyone either"

"I don't need to fuck anyone" he scoffed "I already had enough sex for a year before coming here"

"Of course you did" you raised your eyebrow and smirked. Though the victory didn't last. 

"When was the last time you had sex, Y/N?" 

You pressed your lips together, trying your best to avoid throwing the plate to his face. 

"It's none of your business"

"Come on, has it been so long?" You could hear the mocking in his voice, which irritated you.

"Shut up" 

"Six months?" His smirk was bigger and bigger.

"Gods, Ivar, leave me alone" you groaned. 

"A year?" he kept pressing you, you swore he enjoyed annoying you more than anything "More than a year? Oh gods, that's even worse than I expected" he laughed "The last one was that boy you dated? The one that couldn't even pronounce Hvitserk's name? He left you for a model, didn't he? Wow that must hurt"

You bit your lip to stop the string of insults that came to your head and you wanted so desperately to scream to the smirking asshole that was behind you. 

"I'm not surprised, though" he shrugged "Who would want to have sex with you?"

That was it. You left the plates in the sink and turned around.

"I'm done with you, you asshole, I'm not letting you stay there and insult me only because you have nothing better to do, go do something with your life and leave me alone" 

Ivar laughed at your outburst. You could have said something better, something that would have erased the annoying smirk from his lips, but you were so angry you couldn't even think on a good response.

You left the kitchen, running upstairs and entering Hvitserk's room, closing the door harshly. 

That night, you almost expected Hvitserk to come and get you, asking you if you were okay and maybe scolding his little brother for insulting you. To go and get in bed with you to watch series in Netflix. 

But he didn't, he was too busy, as you could see from the small balcony. He was too occupied with Margrethe. And, for a moment, you started regretting these holidays.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @chimera4plums @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @sallylebecks @hellogabysblog @winchesterwife27

[vix-x-x]

drabble idea!! "We’ve only been broken up for ten seconds and you just asked me if we’re still up for dinner tomorrow night"

Hi friend! Here is what I came up with - I really hope you like it! - Vic You can submit drabble requests here. And find me on AO3 here. _______________ “What?!” Caroline hissed, as she debated the merits of launching the glass in her hand at his head. “Dinner, love? At Le Grande Cascade.” Klaus replied without looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

For that, she threw the glass. It flew over his right shoulder to smash on the floor behind the couch. As much as she’d have loved to crack it over his skull, the cleanup for the housemaids would have been too dramatic. 

“Go to hell.”

Klaus looked as her then, sighing and shutting his book to give her his fullest attention.

“Why?”

“Because that isn’t how break ups work, Klaus?!” Caroline snapped, pulling a duffel bag from within the wardrobe to set it roughly on the bed next to him.

As she turned around to begin pulling her clothes from the hangers, she could hear the smirk in his voice. “But we haven’t broken up.”

“Yes, we have.” Caroline said, turning to lug half a dozen sundresses into the duffel whilst avoiding creasing.  She could feel his eyes on her as she rolled them, packing them tightly into a corner. “I’m half of this relationship, so I get to decide when we break up and you can’t just say no.”

It was quiet then, for just a second before the triumphant grin spread over his face. “Relationship?”

It was infuriating, really. How he always chose to be pedantic when Caroline wanted a fight. Well, it wasn’t that she wanted a fight as such, just that living with him was a lot. He could make her so happy, give her so much, and yet there were some things which got right under her skin. Things that Klaus just wouldn’t budge on. Like his penchant for fresh, hot human blood, for example.

As she turned back to the wardrobe, she could see him set the book aside and sit up from where he lay. “I was under the impression that in the modern age, we need to have a conversation regarding the use of that word. In order to break up, we’d have had to have been together in the first place.” He spoke casually, as if she wasn’t in the middle of leaving him. Again.

With her face buried in the wardrobe, Caroline scowled. “We’ve lived together for a decade, what else could this be?”

Despite the sheer venom in her tone, the tight set of her jaw and the fists collecting scraps of clothing, she couldn’t help but widen her eyes when she turned to find Klaus looking well, quite overjoyed really. “Well this is a revelation. Does this mean that you’re my girlfriend?”

Girlfriend. As if that term could ever encompass years of co-dependancy, of sharing people and places, food and shelter, life and death. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, even if she kind of wanted to kiss at his dimples. “Was. Past tense.”

“And I was your boyfriend.”  Klaus grinned, intwining his hands on his lap. “So just to clarify, I should definitely cancel the dinner reservation in Paris.”

“Are you serious right now?!”

“That’s not a yes.” He noted, but her frosty gaze dampened the smile on his face. “Come on, Caroline. As much as I like you fiery, I’d rather you stopped pretending to be upset with me.”

Caroline threw the skirt she was holding to the ground. Some conversations were best had with a little drama. “You killed the mailman!”

“He was incompetent.”

“He was delivering mail?!”

“Are you upset that I didn’t share him, or that there is blood on your postcard?”

Caroline’s mouth opened without forming words, before she threw both hands into the air. ”You’re an ass.”

“Hmm.” He hummed with a gentle smile, swinging his legs to stand up. “So back to dinner?”

“He was innocent, Klaus. He might have had a family - kids.” Caroline snapped, watching as his relaxed steps drew closer.

“Your moral compass is admirable, love.” He muttered, stepping into her personal space enough for Caroline to back up.

“What are you doing?” She asked, turning until her back hit the wall.  “No.” A outstretched hand landed on his chest. Klaus didn’t push any further, but licked his lips at the heat of her touch. “No. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Like you want to eat me.  The depth of his eyes could be quite unsettling. Staring down the earth’s apex predator held willingly an arms length away, Caroline squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.  “I swear to god Klaus I will sue you for sexual harassment.”

“On what grounds?” Klaus smirked, eyes glancing down to where her hand was pressed on bare skin. Slowly, giving her ample opportunity to slap him away, Klaus pressed both hands to the wall behind her head. Caroline let her hand fall after just the tiniest bit of pressure, and Klaus seized the opportunity, stepping closer still but careful not to touch her. Leaning down until his lips were in line with hers, Klaus observed the pouting of her lips up close.  “Are we done fighting over one tiny, insignificant human now?”

Crossing her arms, Caroline shook her head and gave him a flat look.

“And we definitely can’t skip to the make-up sex?” He continued. She scoffed at that, and Klaus smirked at the way her lips threatened to smile.

“Very well.” He relented, stepping away from her before digging in the pocket of his jeans for his mobile. Taking his sweet time to find the right number, Klaus dialled and was met with the perky French greeting. “I’d like to cancel a reservation-“

But Caroline had snatched his phone and hung up before he had the chance to finish.