#unfortunately for HIM i LOVE singing and was drunk enough to keep fucking going >:)

[safyresky]

21. karaoke

(From the June prompts here. Sorry for the delay! Enjoy this silly lil thang! :D)

"Are you SURE this is a good idea?"

"Positive!!"

"Dite, it's BLOSSOM."

"She just needs to get out more!"

Jacqueline frowned, looking unsure. "I mean, yeah, it's just...karaoke? I'm not sure it's a great idea. I mean, you remember what happened last time we took her to an eatery, right?"

Sauce coated their table, Blossom standing on top of it as she squished the condiments out of their bottles, coating the child across from her as she yelled right at the poor, literal, ACTUAL CHILD, "THAT'S WHAT YOU GET! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET—"

"Too much sugar?"

"Then there was the mini golf incident."

The windmill from the tiny windmill hole circled the three Legates as they watched, in varying degrees of shock, as the tiny buildings crumbled, the animatronics sparking, a small fire breaking out behind Blossom who stood triumphant, putter in the air.

"HOLE IN ONE!" She shouted, unfazed as Myles fell out of the pirate ship as it creaked and groaned, Olivia managing to just dodge the mainsail as it collapsed towards her, hitting a teeter totter and sending kids flying.

Dite looked away, flushed. "I don't think that mini golf was up to code."

"The beach incident?"

"There's no WAY she could've caused that tsunami! I bet it was Summer. Or Mel. Or both. Maybe the nymphs?"

"Okay, that one does have a lot of players, I'll give you that," Xander chimed in. "But consider this: the Spire wide three day sleep?"

"That was a while ago!"

Xander raised an eyerbow. "That was just last week, Dite. My Dad is still sleeping it off."

"Still?"

Xander nodded.

"He's usually sleeping, though."

"But this is unprecedented, Jacqueline. Also, I'm trying to help your argument?"

"Fair point! Look, Dite. I love you, and I love that you want to include Blossom in more of these outings...there've just been way too many incidents in a row and I can only talk our way out of them so many times!"

"Oh, but you do it so well," Dite folded her hands and lay them against her cheek, eyelashes (and wings) fluttering.

Jacqueline flushed. "Oh! Yes. I do! I mean. I know!"

"Are you flustering her on purpose?"

Dite giggled. "It's fifty-fifty," she said, tilting her hand back and forth. "She's just like that! Listen. I have considered the unbridled chaos that seems to follow Blossom everywhere we go, and I've got a plan this time."

"Oh?"

"If something happens, I am going to TACKLE HER and fly out of there as fast as possible, before she can cause any trouble!"

Xander and Jacqueline shared a look.

"And you're sure this'll work?"

"Positive! Come on guys, please? Pleaseeeee!?"

Jacqueline sighed. Xander shrugged.

"That's not a no-o~!"

"Okay, FINE."

"Yay!"

"I'll bring some dream sand with me."

"And I'll turn up the charisma."

"Oh, you guys! Thank you. This is gonna be SO fun!"

"But you're telling the others."

"Not a problem! I'm sure they'll understand!"

---

Not all of them did.

Day and Night didn't show up; Spring came in a lovely little dress coated in vines, swirling up her arms and down her legs, right to the tips of her heels—just in case, she had explained. Myles replied, in all caps, NO, and minutes before go time Olivia bowed out, citing a bit of a crisis at home, maybe related to the mini-golf incident. Charlie managed to arrive on time, a little windswept and Santa backpack bag on his back, ALSO just in case, he explained.

Still a good turn out, Dite thought, as they headed into their usual haunt, the karaoke already starting. Blossom hopped ahead excitedly, unable to hop straight as she took in the sights, ears twitching, nose as well, head spinning back and forth like a predator was nearby.

Xander watched Blossom carefully, filing in beside Dite; Charlie was chatting animatedly with Dite, Spring and Jacqueline bringing up the rear, heads close as they whispered quietly.

They were ready.

---

The evening went surprisingly well.

That is, until Brennan appeared.

He sung beautifully; huge round of applause all around. Magibeans fawned over him, and soon after staff handed out earplugs, because Brennan was, in fact, a siren.

And Blossom decided that he was the guy to beat.

And it all went downhill from there.

---

It was a new record. Blossom had lasted pretty long, making sure to sing right after Brennan every. Single. Time.

An hour or so of this back and forth, a few magibeans taking turns between the two of them, and Blossom made contact.

With her little bunny paws.

There was a rush to the exit as water sloshed through the bar. A battle cry suddenly stopped mid scream. Vines were tangled all over the roof of the establishment as Dite made a mad dash out of the pub, barking sorries behind her as she flew out, carrying a sleeping bunny coated in gold and covered in greenery. Behind her, Xander and Charlie carried a similarly snoozing siren between them, placing him down in the shore and starting the...intense process of flagging down the other sirens and explaining what had happened to their fellow merperson.

Inside, Spring and Jacqueline shared a look and a sigh.

"I'll take care of the proprietor, you take care of the wet and the green?"

"Yep. Yep yep yep yep," Spring agreed, turning and lifting her hands, the vines and water bending to her will.

Wrinkling her nose and grumbling, Jacqueline took a deep breath in before putting on her sweetest smile and rushing to the bar to smooth things over with the very bewildered nymph behind it.

[crowlixcx]

For the brainrot series - as though you don't have enough requests, but I heard this song again today and the resulting assault on my imagination has irrevocably damaged my sanity, and I had to say something because I will not be suffering alone.

Okay, so, picture this:

Crowley is tired of the way things have been weird in this vague post-S3 world I'm picturing, and he's decided he's gonna Do Something About It (mostly because he's already about 'if I'm not a bush I'm not no one' levels of drunk). Naturally, he decides that what he's gonna do is woo his angel.

Easy enough. Humans do this shit all the time, and without the benefit of 6000 years of mutual pining and some slinky hips. In fact, thanks to his extensive knowledge of romcoms (a must for any demon if they want to learn inventive ways to sow discord among couple, etc, and for no other reason), he's decided that the perfect course of action is to serenade Aziraphale with a song that perfectly encapsulates his squishy, kind of embarrassingly soft feelings that the angel just has to give in and accept his expertly plighted troth (probably not a euphemism).

He is, at this point, at the 'I'm washing me and my clothes' stage of his drinking binge, but he's nervous, so sue him.

It takes him foreeeeever to pick a song (he only knows "bebop" won't do, but unfortunately that covers such a wide and sometimes contradictory swath of all music made since the 1940s, it's pretty impossible), and he keeps second guessing himself, so he makes it to the 'Kiefer Sutherland tackling a Christmas tree' stage of blitzed and hits shuffle on his 'Embarrassing Angelfeels I Can Never Admit To Even Under Pain Of Total Annihilation' Spotify playlist et VOILA! The perfect song! Crowley can't believe his luck, and he sets his plan into motion before he can do something stupid, like sober up.

So, it's about 3 in the morning at this point, and Crowley has set up his speaker system in the middle of the street facing Aziraphale's bookshop, and as you do, he climbs onto a stolen crate (containing an order of dildos the adult entertainment shop three streets over is going to be looking for in about five hours) and shouts for Aziraphale until the angel, and anyone else unfortunate enough to be hanging around at 3am on a Wednesday (mostly Mrs. Sandwich and her girls and poor Nina, who has unwisely chosen to arrive extra early to wait on a delivery of hazelnut syrup), pops their heads out to see what the deuce is going on.

Once he sees his darling angel, Crowley takes another swig of frankly embarrassingly cheap vodka for a demon of his tastes, hefts hus microphone, and starts to sing (for a given value of sing).

It starts off soft, all chimes and romantic piano, full of joy and longing, and Aziraphale's face does that thing where he's definitely embarrassed, but also pleased, so Crowley shuts his eyes, and that's when the disco beat drops.

Oh yes. Crowley is about to fucking boogie down for the love of his life.

He busts out all the moves, wiggling those slinky hips (because he's never been one not to use every weapon at his disposal), belting out mostly the right lyrics in somewhat the right key, generally on time and everything.

Aziraphale's face, if Crowley would open his eyes and look, is now crossing over into horrified, yet hopelessly enamored, with a dash of down bad. His tastes are varied and interesting, okay?

The music fades out before Crowley does, still belting for a good thirty seconds after the track changes to 'The Edge of Glory', which isn't as perfect for his purposes, but Aziraphale hasn't fallen to his knees in besotted supplication (also not a euphemism, probably), so Crowley figures he may as well, and the whole street is both glad and a little disappointed that this is when Aziraphale steps away from the shop door, reaches up for Crowley's hand, and drags him off the box of dildos and towards the shop.

"That's lovely, dear. Why don't we go inside so you can sleep this off before we talk about it."

Crowley, of course, follows along happily, about 80% sure that is a euphemism, and decides send a little blessing to Barbra Streisand in gratitude. He knew 'The Main Event/Fight' had been the right song to choose.

(It was not, in fact, a euphemism, and Crowley thinks the squirming agony of having to listen to Aziraphale somehow turn a love confession into a lecture about proper methods of courtship and being considerate of human sleep cycles while suffering the worst hangover of his entire existence is possibly the best worst thing he's ever experienced. Hell should take notes.)

(They spend the rest of the day getting to know each other, and that is a euphemism.)

Now.

Did I fail to peel this mental image off the surface of my brain for the last 24 hours and decide to share the agony and the ecstasy of it? Oh yes.

Is it the perfect song to confess your love to your ineffable crush with? Debatable, but it has good results of one (1) success and no failures so far, so we can't really say no.

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

The level of detail in this is unmatched. The creativity? Inspired. When I started th brainrot series never did I think I would receive something of this gravitas. Bravo my dear, I'm in the palm of your hand. And the specificity of the playlist turning to Edge Of Glory? Delicious. This is truly, marvellously unhinged. God bless the Babs and to you for the gift you have bestowed upon me. I will treat it with love and care.

[tendousthoughts]

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 4

Character(s) included: Kenma & Suna

Requested by: My sibling who doesn't read my work lmao.

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of alcohol [Kenma]

Song of the day: Tired by Beabadoobee

A/N: First off please check out my announcements post. It has a lot of important Information in it and I would really enjoy it if you checked it out! Next this is requested by my wonderful sibling. Hopefully you all enjoy- also how's my new stuff..? Tell me if its ugly lmao.. I recommend having the palette/theme set to Goth Rave for the best look- I might make a few things a darker purple though! This might be the last part to this series unless anyone wants a few more!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Kenma

Things were rough after Kenma landed his dream gig. Being a full time gamer had always been and always would be his dream. But now it was reality. He finally made it in the big league. He was finally there. It was perfect.. but soon enough flaws started to appear outside of his career. Which soon turned into flaws in the relationship. Kenma was known to be smart, calculated, and quiet. Even though all those seemed nice at times it was hard. Like any relationship things didn’t always work out. One of those being the communication. To be frank, there was no communication. At all.

You liked to drink and party. Hang out with friends and just live life to the fullest.. but even if you did like that, you loved just to cuddle. Which luckily you and Kenma shared. As time grew and his career finally branched into what he hoped it would, your time of physical affection shortened. Which sucked.. you loved physical affection. It was your love language. You couldn’t help it, whenever you saw him you just wanted to lay and be with him. But now that you couldn’t, you slowly branched out to others for what you couldn’t have. When that worked.. you just stuck with it. Getting drunk with friends and cuddling until one of your more sober friends called up Kenma and told him to pick you up. Kenma hated it. He really hated it. He hated to see you holding on to someone else, it didn’t matter what they looked like, what they identified as, or who they were. All that mattered was they weren’t him so they had no right to be that close.

Kenma likes to play games and stay home. He liked to be somewhere quiet and such. So every week when he had to go to pick you up, he sorta wondered if he didn’t pick you up what would happen..? Of course he wouldn’t do so though.. you had so many people eyeing you.. you were popular with everyone and extremely kind. So if he did leave you.. it would be as easy as it was for you to get a new cuddle partner as to get a new place to sleep. He trusted you.. well he kind of did. He wasn't good at expressing how he felt especially when it came to you or something you liked.

You got black out drunk the night before and when you walked into the kitchen you felt the heavy atmosphere. “Good morning baby..” you muttered rubbing your eyes. Your lips felt dry and your throat was raspy. Maybe you were screaming or something.. whatever it was fun.

“I don’t want you calling me that at the moment.” He stated. Which caught you off guard. Looking up your eyes were met with his. Clear confusion all over your face. “What? Did you really get that drunk to not remember being all over your friend last night..?  Calling them baby and shit. If that’s a name you just throw around please just refer to me as my name..” He muttered.

“Oh you know I didn’t mean too baby.. I love you and you know that.. you're the only one who makes me happy… but right now I'm having a headache so do you mind passing me the coffee..?” you muttered brushing everything to the side which only made him more frustrated with you. you did this every time. You pushed everything that wasn’t in your interest to the side.

“Look at you doing it again. You always do this,” he looked at you annoyed and frustrated. “Pushing everything to the side. Do you not understand how annoying it is to get a call at three in the morning that you're drunk. Not only that but that you're all over someone else. Do you not understand or do you just not care because seriously it's getting hard to think that you are just that, your heads just that blank.”

You were caught off guard. Of course you were, he never responded roughly like that. He never acted so upset with you. To be honest you never really thought about how he had to pick you up and stuff. You never thought about what happened the night before to be frank. You were a party drunk. You liked to sing and dance and cuddle and such. All the things Kenma couldn’t or wouldn’t do with you, you did with anyone else when you were drunk. It wasn’t that you wanted to blame being drunk on acting that way, so you just waited till you did get drunk. It was more, when you were sober you tried to get Kenma to do those things with you. Which most of the time ended badly because you would just be shut down again. “You know I don’t mean to do those things.”

“You don’t mean too?” He looked upset, really upset. You saw him upset often, frustrated with how the game was turning out and such, but this was different. He looked more hurt than anything. “You do it every week. Every single week you go out and drink you go out and party and sing and dance and have the fucking time of your life okay? Then when your all tired and cuddled up with a friend. I get a call to pick you up. When I get there you're either on their lap with your arms around them, on their side and holding them tight, or in between their legs as they cuddle you from the back. Not only that but when I try and help you up you more then half the time push me away, and then say you wanna go home with your ‘baby’! I’m getting sick and tired of it. You wake up the next morning and act as if the whole night you were just thinking of me and how you just wanna cuddle and all this shit. I am so fucking sick of you this. I’m so sick of you drinking. I am so fucking sick of you.” He was shouting. He was pissed and of course he was. But this time he just blew up. He didn’t even wait for a response to anything. “I’m going to go stream don’t fucking bug me.” He walked away walking into his streaming room. Once they slam the door leaving you in utter shock.

It took you a moment to take in everything. You messed up. It was your fault. He was hurt. Your lover was in pain because of your stupid actions. You grabbed your stuff, shoving it into your pocket and walked out. It was hard to think of anything but Kenma right now. Slowly you walked to the park. The leaves fell from the trees, when you looked around you saw couples wearing matching scarves and such. The smell of chai and pumpkin in every corner. Meeting your gaze you saw Kenma’s favorite bakery. Slowly you walked over opening the door and you immediately noticed this pie section. You made your way over biting your lip and you looked up at the sudden voice.

“Y/n.. is that you?” As you eye’s met the other you immediately recognized Bokuto.

“Oh hey.. nice to see you again.” You smiled weakly. Unfortunately your eyes were wet and glossy as soon as you walked into the bakery, and you didn’t know if you could handle pushing down the tears anymore.

“Where’s Kenma..? Are you okay..?” He asked softly, gently rubbing your back as he seemed to be alone at the moment. You didn’t wanna cause any more issues but you couldn’t help it, immediately you started to cry.

“I messed up, I really messed up..” you mutter as he gently leads you to a seat.

“Hey everything will be okay.. just tell me what’s wrong. I know you can work through it okay..? We can do it!” he smiled. He had always been a big brother to you. He knew just what to say to calm you down.

“I got drunk again and this time I just was a mess I guess.. and Kenma seems to be getting tired of me and me doing this. Doing all this dumb shit and messing around. But I just.. I don’t know. I wanna cuddle and hug and go on dates. But Kenma just got his dream job and I don’t wanna fuck it up. I know its so fucking selfish. I shouldn’t do this to him. I know I shouldn’t. I deserve to get yelled at and stuff I mean seriously.. he has to pick me up at three every fucking week because I’m to stupid to tell him how I feel and how I just want to be held and stuff. I just wonder sometimes.. Maybe I am not as perfect as I thought I was for Kenma. He needs someone who can be there for him all the time and I know I just know that I will keep fucking up..” You were shaking. “I mean seriously.. I am not even able to tell him I love him much less tell him about how his job is bugging me. It’s the one thing he wanted to do. The one fucking thing he really wanted to do. I just wasn’t able to support him.. I couldn’t.. I just keep hurting him..” tears were rolling down your face.

“Y/n.. hey it's okay, but he will never know anything if you keep holding it to yourself. Kenma has always been like that. He gets bugged by things but won’t say anything until he is at his limit. He never understood the importance of communication.. and he never ever takes the first steps okay? I understand that you're frustrated but you knew when you got into a relationship with him what type of person he is. You knew he was hard to understand. You told me you did. But I don’t think that you would give up this easily. You and him are the same, there will never be an understanding between you too if you guys don’t talk it out. Okay..? I suggest you get some pie and walk back to talk it out with him. I mean to be honest his stream today seems to be a mess. So it must really be bugging him and it would be better to figure it out sooner don’t you think..?” He smiled softly as you nodded. “Good. I have to go but look if you ever need to talk just message me okay? I’ve got your back!” He smiled, getting up and walking out.

You got up and bought two slices of apple pie and started to walk back. It was going to be tough to do this but you needed to. You knew you needed too.

Kenma couldn’t stay concentrated so the stream only lasted ten minutes before he turned it off and went back out to the living room. Which is when he found out you had left. Sadly his first thought was that you had gone drinking so he called up one of your friends to ask. When he found out you hadn’t he was even more worried. He looked around for a moment before he sat on the couch and held a pillow waiting. Hoping you would come back home. He wanted to fix this. He went too far. He knew he did. He knew he did of course he did. He knew he blew up, he always did and he tried not to but it was so fucking hard.

When you came into the room you immediately saw him lying on the couch cuddled up and crying. “What have I done..” You whispered softly as you made it next to you gently placed the pie down and looked at him. “I am sorry..” he looked up to you a bit and immediately his face changed.

“Oh thank god you're okay..” he whispered softly, “I didn’t me-”

You cut him off, “I messed up. I knew I did and I just want you to listen okay? I love you and I know I rarely say it. For a matter of a fact I can count the amount of times I’ve said it with one hand. I know I need to say it more okay? I know I shouldn’t drink but it is just really hard sometimes.. I just wanna go on dates and hold you and shit and I know it sounds so fucking stupid but sometimes I just get worried that if I do you will get sick of me faster okay..? So I just thought it would be easier to do it with my friends and stuff and get drunk and try to not bug you. You just got your dream job and I just don’t wanna fuck anything up more but I clearly have. I know I’m stupid and inconsiderate and I will think about it more.. just please don’t leave. Please. I will be better I swear.” You tried not to cry but you couldn’t help yourself.

Slowly he pulled you to him and held you tight. “I wasn’t planning to leave you anytime soon.. It is my fault I always don’t pay attention and It ends up hurting you and I know I should try and think about your feelings more. But I get scared to ask about it because I think if I do then you will think something is wrong but clearly that doesn’t work. So I will try to open up more okay.. I love you so much babe.. I love you.” He whispered softly, kissing your forehead.

“I love so so much too.. I love you..” You whispered. It would take time but soon everything would be perfect.. everything would be okay again.

Suna

It was hard to believe that Suna was still playing volleyball. It wasn’t a problem to you at all, to be frank you were glad that he decided to do something he loved. You were glad he wasn’t stuck at a desk all day. It just sucked when he came home all tired and unable to hang out. But maybe it would be the same either way. It just bugged you when he didn’t come home till like twelve and blamed it on practice. You didn’t wanna think that he was lying to you but you never really knew much about volleyball. It could be easily right but it just ticked you off that he came home so late. Claiming that he already had dinner and stuff. But there wasn’t anything you could really do about it. This was his passion. He loved to play volleyball and all you could do was give him your undying love and support.You worked hard, enjoying your job. Though it also got frustrating when your schedules conflicted so you couldn’t hang out but that was just life. There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and that was okay.

Suna got home late again. It was the middle of the night when you heard the shower start. He didn’t even say hello. He knew you were up. He had to know. You always were up when he came in. Mainly because you wanted to make sure he was okay when he got back. You wanted to make sure he got back. You were worried easily but it was going to be okay. Of course it was. You just had to tell yourself everyday and it would be true.. right?

When Suna walked into the room he slowly slipped next to you. “Sorry about the wait angel.. I promise soon I will have time off okay and we can hang out.” He muttered softly as his warm, soft arms wrapped around you. The smell of cherry blossoms radiated off of him. He used your hair wash sometimes, he claimed it made him feel like you were with him all the time and that made him happy. His wet hair touched your back as he held you close.

It was hard to be mad at him when he got like this. He was so soft when he was tired. He always made the same promise. At the beginning you believed him, you waited for it to happen but at this point you just tried to forget that he even said it because it just hurt you more. Of course it did. You were holding on to this stupid hope that he will get more time to hang out. That hope that soon everything would be okay. “It’s okay baby.. get some rest okay..?” You muttered softly. You turned your head slightly, kissing his head as you faced the front again. Closing your eyes you hoped everything would be okay once more.

The morning came quickly. The sun shone through the blinds, then the feeling of coldness hit as you turned over to the empty bed. Heh. What were you thinking? Did you really think that he was going to wait for you..? God sooner or later you really had to realize this relationship was more one sided then anything. That this thing was going to be a forever relationship. But god fuck, this was just as real as a fake relationship. It was only one when it was a relationship when it was convenient. It sucked but none of his teammates even knew about you and him being in a relationship. It sucked to feel like you were being forced to be hidden. It almost felt like he was embarrassed of you. It had gone on long enough. You were so fucking done. This was too hard to hold on.

After packing a bit you got up and grabbed your stuff. Getting up you headed out taking your car to one of your only friend’s houses. It was hard to have a conversation with him let alone try and explain how you felt. So you decided to take a night off from seeing him, and try and clear your head. You didn’t wanna break up, fuck that was the last thing you wanted to do. You decided not to leave a note.. secretly kind of hoping it would make him a bit worried or something. So you knew he actually noticed.. or actually liked you. Suna always had a ‘I don’t give a fuck’ additude and that was one of the big reasons you were drawn to him. He was always so free, he didn’t care what people had to say about him.. Something you wished you could have but it really didn’t matter because he had you back, back then.

After a few hours of hanging out your friend took your phone away from you, being that you had been waiting for a call from Suna. They powered it off and placed it on a shelf gently slipping next to you. They smiled. You and them were alway close. They had been with you for every break up and to be honest you even tried dating, though it didn’t work out it was a great experience and you would still have done it to this day. When night struck instead of waiting for Suna you actually were kind of relieved the fear of him not coming home kind of slipped off your shoulders as you laid down next to your friend. Closing your eyes you hoped for everything to get better. You wished that he would be able to get some free time and such.

On the other hand when Suna came home he did what he always did, take a shower and head to bed. But this time you weren’t there, you weren't waiting for him. He looked around almost instantly running to check if your shoes were there, which they weren’t. Now a bit shaken up he took a deep breath and walked over to check if anything else was missing. Once he did it kind of hit him harder than expected. Running to grab his phone he began to call you. It was too late out and it was pitch black, fear had settled in as he realized what could have happened. All the things that could have happened, might have happened. He immediately put on his shoes, his hair still wet. God even knows he can hear you to dry his hair before he leaves, in hope he won't get sick. He unlocked his car calling you for the third time, unsurprisingly he heard the same voice mail.

“Hey this is y/n! It seems you are trying to reach me. At the moment I might be busy or have missed your call! Please try and call again or leave a message. I promise to get back to you as soon as I can!”

It had been a wet month as the rain hit the floor but Suna didn’t seem to mind. So maybe he was being over dramatic but you never have been away from him during the night from the day you guys started dating. So for you not even to mention that you weren’t going to be home was fucking with him. He did the next best thing, calling your best friend. Lucky for him they picked up. “Hey is y/n there.. they're not picking up and I really wanna make sure they're okay..” he muttered his breath was loud. Almost as if he was having trouble breathing and such.

“Ya, do you wanna pick them up they seem to be having trouble sleeping.. and it seems like you guys need to work through a few things so maybe it would be best if you did..'' They were surprised that he called. It wasn’t that he didn’t love you or anything, it was just that it didn’t always seem like he was that interested in you, as if being convenient to them and such. So for him to call up your friend was quite unexpected.

When Suna arrived he got out and knocked on the door after being met with your friend, “I’m only telling you this once so listen to me. Y/n loves you okay? If you're not interested just let them be okay? There are a bunch of people who would kill to be with them. If you do not have the time for them please just let them be, so they can find someone who can take care of them when they need someone too. Y/n is quiet about their feelings but that doesn’t mean you can only be with them when it is convenient to you, let alone only at night. If you don’t want to step up please just step down and let someone else fill your role for you. They are hurting to much because of your actions and you don’t seem to ever fucking care. Please just let them go if you're done.. This game has been over a long time ago. You won okay. You always will be against y/n..” they moved to the side letting the startled Suna in. “They're over there, if you don’t wanna carry them it is okay just call me over because I don’t want them to be woken up.” Suna shook his head gently. How fucking dare they assume that this was all a game to him. How dare they assume that he didn’t actually love you..? Why did they assume those things..?

Suna picked you up gently, gently you clung to him and his warmth. It was cold in the room and Suna seemed to be the only solution to it. It surprised Suna quite a lot, finding out that you were clinging to him. Being that at night he always hugged you, but you just wanted to give him space so he wouldn’t be bored of you. “Hey angel sorry for making you wait all these nights.. I promise I will be there okay.. please don’t move on I really do love you.. your my everything and I know it is stupid of me to talk to you while your asleep but sometimes I get to nervous to talk to you and I just want everything to be okay with you. Your friend is right though.. There is no excuse for what I am doing to you. I am so sorry.. angel trust me I really love you. I would be so fucking lost without you.” he muttered holding on to you tightly as he grabbed your stuff and carried you out. It was still raining as he tried his best to shelter you from the rain running to the car as he placed you in the front. It took him a moment to get you comfortable or at least that what he hoped was comfortable. He had placed a blanket on you and buckled you up as he moved to the front and started driving. It was a good thirty minute drive, and he knew soon you guys had to go back to go get your car but at this moment all he was worried about was you. “God angel.. I can’t compete with everyone else after you.. why did you choose me.. why are you still with me..?” he muttered. He gently held your hand as he looked out. You were always so cold. Suna on the other hand was like a walking heat source. Maybe because he was so big that he could hold you tight and stuff and it just made it feel warmer or something but it worked better than you could imagine.

It took a bit of time but soon you had arrived, sadly the rain hadn’t eased up. Suna got out first picking you up as he wrapped the blanket around you so you wouldn’t get cold or wet. You shifted around in his arms. “mm..” you muttered your eyes fluttering open with the feeling of his arms again and the feeling of movement. You held on tightly to Suna, “Baby..?” you grumbled softly confused where you were and what you were doing. Why was he here? More importantly, how did he find you.. did he really care? God it felt great to think that he did.

“Ah I’m sorry for waking you angel.. close your eyes I’ve got you now.. that house was too cold. I’ve got you now. We are home so you can be nice and warm again okay..? Don’t worry I’ve got you now so everything will be okay. I am going to take a break from practice for the week okay..? I am going to ease up on the practice so you won’t have to worry. I love you so much. I know I haven’t been a good boyfriend and I know I need to step it up. Will I be okay? Don’t worry I am going to be better for you okay. I am sorry about everything I’ve done to hurt you and I am going to do my best to make you feel better.. and if it doesn’t help I will let go okay. I’m going to finally let you breathe but please just give me just one more chance. I know I love you, and I know I don’t show it but I promise I do. If I didn’t please tell me what was that pain in my chest when I didn’t see you, I know I sound stupid I know I do but I know I really do love you. Hearing what your friend said and I know they're right but it just hit me. I am not ashamed of you.. you know that right..? I just don't want my team to know because last time when word got out I was dating someone the pressure was to muc. on them and the new articles and stuff and I just don’t wanna pressure you. I don’t want us to end because of that. I want everything to be perfect. I know I come home late, I just.. I don’t know. I know it is too much on you and I don't want that I just don’t everything to be over because of an argument that could have been avoided if I just you know.. not came home or something. I know it is no excuse but I am telling the truth please believe me. I can’t live without you.. I love you so much please baby.. fuck. I keep rambling. I am sorry angel. get some rest we will talk about this in the morning..” he muttered softly walking inside and gently placing you in bed as he walked and changed coming back as soon as he could.

You were wide awake.. but you just wanted to wait so you knew he would still be there when you woke up. So you knew he wouldn’t be gone before anything. So you knew he wasn’t lying anymore. “Night baby..” you muttered as his arms wrapped around you.

“Good night angel.. I love you so much..” He muttered, closing his eyes.

When the morning came you were surprised when you felt his body tight around you. “Morning my angel..” he muttered. “Did you get some good rest..?”

“Good morning.. mhm.. thank you for staying.. you don’t understand how worried I was that you were going to leave before I could say anything.. But thank you. I love you so much okay.. and I don’t what my friend said but please ignore him.. I only love you.. I will only ever love you. Please try and stay home more. It is getting hard to handle and I know it is selfish but I just want you to stay longer sometimes. I know you want the best for me but please.. it makes me feel like you actually don’t love me and I know it is wrong but I get scared and I don’t want to be.. please believe me when I say that I can handle it.. I just wanna be with you more. I just want to be what you want. I love you so much..” You were trying not to cry but you were.

“Angel… I love you so much. I will tell the whole world.. I want to. Will I be okay? I will stay with you till you wake up and eat Breakfast with you. I will come home sooner so you're not scared anymore.. I’ve got you and everything I’ve ever wanted so please don’t cry.. I love you so fucking much angel..” he whispered kissing you. This felt good.. refreshing, you felt okay for the first time in a while. You felt happy. You were going to be alright now, he was going to keep you safe and you would do the same thing. You loved each other and that's all that would ever matter because you two were made for each other.

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[azenkii]

A Long List of Trash Fire Lord Zuko Headcanons

...that i couldn't get out of my head:

(warning: SUPER LONG POST i havent figured out how to trim posts yet)

he's the one who unchains azula despite iroh's protests. she doesn't even try to fight him, just cries into his shoulder and keeps mumbling about how father's going to be so disappointed in her. he takes her to her rooms and has her drink a sleeping draught, then stations the best guards he has left outside her chambers.

his first council meeting takes place literally a day after sozin's comet. he hobbles into the council chamber shirtless with his entire torso covered in bandages and every council member just looks at him like '...what'

he does NOT sleep for like,,a week after sozin's comet and then another two weeks after his coronation. katara, aang and suki try to persuade him to sleep and he doesn't listen. eventually sokka, toph and mai team up to literally drag his ass to bed and tell him he's not allowed to get up until he sleeps (does mai pin him to the bed with her knives? yes. is it kinky or sexual in any way? definitely not.)

he drinks So. Much. Tea. at this point it's practically tasteless to him but he drinks it anyway because he just needs something to do and tea is something familiar. he keeps iroh on his toes because he's constantly asking for new tea blends, uncle, i think i actually tasted the last one,

he flat-out refuses to grow his hair for at least a year after ozai's defeat. the second it starts getting close to his chin he shears it off himself, with his knife, and his stylist has a heart attack every single time

when he's tired he'll occasionally jump up when one of his guards moves. it stops after a bit, but for the first month and a half or so he's really twitchy. when sokka asks, the only explanation he can come up with is that he's not used to having people stand behind him silently and not want to kill him, much less want to protect him (sokka immediately takes him out for a shopping trip and makes a point of walking behind him the entire time, but only on zuko's right side, where he can clearly see it if sokka moves towards him)

when the healer declares azula mentally unstable and in need of an institution, he shuts himself in his office for the rest of the night. no one's allowed in, not even iroh. he finally emerges in the morning, eyes red from crying and sleep deprivation, and tells the librarian that he'd like a list of the best mental institutions in the country, please, the best in the world if you can get them

he loves theatre (is this even a headcanon?). unfortunately it practically died out in the fire nation along with the rest of the creative arts, leaving nothing but small troupes like the ember island players. one of zuko's personal goals (meaning things he wants to accomplish that aren't as important as restoring his country) is to bring back theatre; he finally manages to do it after about eight months or so of being fire lord, along with other arts like dancing, music and sculpture

he establishes a national day of mourning, on the first day of autumn every year, to commemorate the genocide of the air nomads. from 100AG onwards, every calendar printed in the fire nation has it marked. at first it was called the day of repentance, but aang persuaded him to have it changed (by arguing that he didn't want guilt to be a literal staple of fire nation culture)

he introduces literally So Many educational reforms, plus a mandatory class that teaches students about the cultures of the other nations (air nomads included) and how some of their traditions overlap

he turns down the offer of having a statue put up of him in the capital. toph ignores him and does it anyway.

he visits azula regularly, makes sure she's (relatively) comfortable and well-fed, and sometimes just sits down outside her door and tells her about everything that's going on right now ('some of the far colonies have developed their own standardised writing, azula, you wouldn't believe it, and i've asked the fire sages to come visit more often—but you never liked them, did you? oh, well; i'll make sure none of them go into your chambers by mistake')

(he doesn't know it, but when he does this azula sits by the door and listens. she wonders what kind of writing the colonists have developed, and whether or not the fire sages have taken on some new recruits.)

he hates being above anyone else. never sits in the throne if he can help it, nor does he sit on the dais in the council room. when he talks to people shorter than him, he finds himself stooping a little bit to talk to them on their level (the exception to this rule is sokka, who he mocks for being shorter all the way up until sokka grows taller than him, the bastard)

the first time he visits the earth kingdom, the earth king's ministers call a toast. he ends up being the only one who has to sit out, because he's too young to drink by earth kingdom law

once his servants figure out he won't kill them for talking to him, they start becoming a lot more bold, telling him off when he doesn't take care of himself. at one point, they force him to let them take care of him so much that he literally just bolts into the gardens and hides there until the staff rope in mai and ty lee

when he needs to escape, he does one of two things: (a) he dresses up as the blue spirit and does some parkour until he calms down, or (b) he goes to work at the jasmine dragon. (b) happens less often bc the jasmine dragon's in ba sing se, but there's been a few memorable incidents when an earth kingdom diplomat walks in and yells, 'LEE?!' when they see the fire lord

the first court artist who draws him also happens to be the one who drew azulon and ozai. he draws zuko without his scar. zuko takes one look at it and tells him, very calmly, that he'd like him to leave, please.

zuko burns the portrait. he doesn't fire the court artist, but he never calls on him again unless he has to. a second court artist is called, and can't help but be a bit confused when the fire lord tells him to be sure to include the scar

he forgets the crown. a lot. sometimes he walks into council meetings in his sleepwear with his hair tied up in a messy ponytail and a bunch of scrolls tucked under his arm. none of his councilmen have the guts (or the heart) to tell him that this is not, in fact, formal council wear

he goes to feed the turtleducks when he's stressed. he thinks he's being subtle. he's not. the entire palace knows, and they consciously give him space when they see him in the turtleduck garden

most of his staff are older than him, so they look at him and see this teeny tiny fire lord who is So Small and who Must Be Protected. the day after zuko's coronation, the head chef holds a meeting where they commence Operation Do-Not-Let-That-Boy-Turn-Out-Like-His-Father (subsection He's-The-Only-Good-Thing-We-Have)

one night he wakes up to find suki sitting in his room, decked out in full kyoshi warrior garb and makeup, and just about screams blue murder. suki tells him there are suspicions of an assassin in the palace, and would you please stop yelling it's very distracting, we won't be able to hear anyone coming over that racket

zuko gets very, very paranoid of random spirits after that. yeah, suki looks like a possibly malevolent spirit when she's wearing her makeup, what about it? (when he tells sokka he's highkey terrified of spirit shenanigans, sokka just looks at him and says, 'man, the stories i could tell...', and THAT'S when zuko remembers sokka spent like six months more than he did travelling with the avatar)

on his first visit to the southern water tribe, he removes his boots and leg guards, rolls up his pants and kneels barefoot in the snow. even though chief hakoda immediately starts trying to pull him up, he's stubborn as hell and stays kneeling for the entirety of his very long, very sincere apology-on-behalf-of-the-fire-nation speech. he nearly loses his toes to frostbite after that, and both sokka and katara never stop giving him shit for it

the first time he grows a 'beard' is completely accidental. he's stressed over some trade miscommunications with chief hakoda, hasn't slept in a few days...and then when sokka arrives as water tribe ambassador to help smooth things over, he takes one look at zuko and says 'man, facial hair does not suit you'

zuko: facial what now

he checks a mirror to find that he's got stubble covering his chin, dark enough that it almost looks intentional, and holy gods how the fuck did he not notice this before

'UNCLE WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME' 'i assumed you were doing it on purpose' 'WHEN HAVE I EVER DONE ANYTHING ON PURPOSE'

he shaves it all off immediately, of course, which prompts a lot of teasing and rib-poking from sokka until zuko finally snaps that he's scared it'll make him look like his father. sokka stops after that.

(the day after sokka leaves, zuko finds that a mysterious someone has scribbled all over ozai's royal portrait, giving him a frankly ridiculous beard and moustache that literally CANNOT be grown in real life. oddly enough, he can't bring himself to care about the defamation of royal property. he's too busy laughing.)

his paths cross with toph and sokka more than any of the others, because sokka is ambassador and toph is technically still a beifong. most of the time, at formal functions, he ends up sequestered in the corner with toph and a hoard of snacks, and they talk and swear much more than they usually do (zuko's ministers once heard him when he was drunk with toph, and the servants swear the older ministers' ears started bleeding)

he restores fire nation cultural festivals, and in doing so subjects himself to learning a lot of complicated dances

during one memorable week, he wrote so many letters and drafted so much legislation that he ran out of paper. he had to go visit the nearest school and ask for some

he keeps up with his firebending and sword training even though it's hard to fit into his schedule. his ministers refrain from reminding him that he has guards to protect him now; it's still hard for zuko to trust his safety with anyone but himself (team avatar is the exception).

he started sleepwalking about two months into his reign. no one knew why. one time, he nearly sleepwalked right off the edge of a balcony, and one of his guards had to grab him by the back of his robes.

the sleepwalking stopped after around a month and never happened again. at this point it's practically palace legend.

after freeing the war prisoners, he went around collecting every single earthbender-proof wooden cell he could find in the capital and surrounding areas. when he'd gotten most of them, he gathered them into a huge pile in the city square and set fire to them with his own hands.

unfortunately he couldn't do that with the waterbender metal cells but he did get toph to come in and bend them all into pretty shapes (well, toph thought they were pretty shapes. everyone else thinks they're meaningless squiggles)

he learned how to write with both hands at the same time out of sheer necessity (he refused scribes until it became clear that he'd be putting some people out of a job; that was when he started letting scribes write very, very minor things, but all important documents/drafts/letters are still written by him)

he once put the wet end of an ink brush in his mouth instead of the wooden end by mistake. didn't even realise until he bit down to keep it in place and ink went oozing everywhere

when his guards rushed in to find him coughing and spluttering black liquid all over his desk they thought he'd been poisoned but no he's just stupid

on his 17th birthday, his first one after being crowned, he got tackled by team avatar in the middle of the ballroom and ended up at the bottom of a cuddlepile for like ten minutes

this cuddlepile happened at an event that was very much public and very much formal. it was a scandal for weeks

just. fire lord zuko, guys. so much potential

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Can I ask what it would be like for Solsu having to take care of drunk romanced companions? Bonus points if they're told about their shenanigans afterword.

Cait:

(Angry drunk)

•It's best that you don't drink in polite company with her. She's already a feisty individual with a burning passion for inflicting pain, you make her drunk and it's only a matter of time before she incites some horrible fight.

•Sounds funny, but it's really not. Reign her back. Please.

Curie:

.......you aren't really gonna let her drink, right? I highly advise you don't....

Danse:

(Horny drunk 👀)

•Danse hardly ever partakes in more than a couple glasses with company and this is exactly why.

•At first it all starts off nice and smooth, just Danse beginning to gradually relax- which is "outstanding" considering his usual rigid disposition. However once that fine line of too many drinks have been crossed, all hell breaks loose.

•It'll start with comments on your appearance, simple incessant "you look beautiful"s spoken with dazed eyes...then it escalates to Danse pulling you into his lap where you're met with his obvious "intentions" prodding you in the ass, all while being held in a bear hug from a blushing, smiling Paladin who happens to look like a kicked puppy when you make him calm down with a drink of water. Don't worry, he might mope but he'll quit if you tell him to.

•Perks back up when you tell him it's time to go to bed...only to mope even more when he realizes that no, it isn't for sexy times. No worries, he'll be happy so long as you let him hold you..

•Is absolutely ashamed and horrified of his behavior when he wakes up and you tell him what went down. Probably will hide his face in his pillows and try to disappear. Swears he won’t drink again and make a fool of himself like that….will totally drink some more.

•Just be lucky he wasn’t feeling melancholic like a post BB Danse would.

Deacon:

(Stupid drunk..)

•Ever seen that one video of that guy busting through drywall like Kool-Aid Man? That's Deacon's level of maturity when properly intoxicated.

•No worries, Desdemona is going to bitch at him from the time he does something too stupid until he isn't even drunk anymore. Frankly, he deserves it too- he's destructive, reckless, and...well..hilarious, but that doesn't mean it's redeemable!

•He seems to perfectly remember all his antics, some he even reflects upon with a proud grin..until his hangover ends up making him wince in pain. Just...take care of him, there isn't any point in trying to scold him. Des has that covered anyways.

Gage:

(Emotional drunk)

•A drunk gage was both extremely rare because of his genuine hate for alcohol and also very shocking. Sure, one may assume that someone so rugged and tough like a raider- especially Gage- would have no issue handling his liquor....oh how wrong you could be...

•You weren't entirely sure what happened, much less where he got the idea, but somehow Gage got the absurd notion that you decided he wasn't good enough for you and you were going to just leave him behind. He'd keep it in for a while, slowly growing more quiet as he took practical gulps of his drink. That doesn't last.

•Eventually he starts to cry, silent tears pouring from his good eye. Whenever you actually notice, it's too late. Just pray no one else is around when this next part happens.

•All it takes is you coming to his side, placing a comforting hand on his back and he crumbles. He'll grab you and push his face into your chest and start sobbing, wailing incoherently as he begs you to not leave him.

•It might seem humorous, but it raised several questions.

•The morning after his outburst, you wake up extra early to present him with a half way decent breakfast in bed- extra grease on the food for good measure. Once he seems to be more coherent, you make sure to talk to him about his apparent fear of you not loving him...which brings him close to tears once again whenever you finally convince him that you do in fact love him and won't ever leave his side so long as he loves you back.

Hancock:

(Stealthy drunk)

•Unfortunately, the mayor of Goodneighbor doesn't really have any fun antics..well at least any that would point to him being intoxicated. Sorry.

Macready:

(Over indulging drunk)

•Mac is arguably the best one to get shit faced with, especially if you like drugs and food. Oh yeah, something about eating while intoxicated is irresistible to him. Think of it like munchies, but in Mac's case, five times as bad.

• After a couple drinks, Mac nonchalantly will reach into his pocket- gesturing for you to come close- before putting a cigarette in your mouth and lighting up- using your's to light his own. If you don't set a stopping point, the two of you will wake up down two packs, several empty containers of jet, and crumbs everywhere.

•When faced with the consequences of his gluttony, Mac will just sit there and whine as his stomach does cartwheels. That's punishment enough...

Maxson:

(Mr. Vomits-a-lot drunk)

•It takes a whole hell of a lot for Maxson to get shitfaced thanks to his rather strict habitual drinking. After all, it would be a strange day if you didn't see him knock a bottle of whisky out before finally turning in..which was kind of sad come to think of it..

•Nonetheless, he does occasionally push his limits when he's especially stressed and it's never pleasant when he does.

•It was sort of funny, in retrospect. One minute you and him were sitting on the flight deck together, casually talking whilst finishing off a bottle of shitty vodka (unknowing that he had already burned through countless bottles before meeting you) when suddenly Arthur started to look pale. It just kept getting worse until eventually he was frantically motioning for you to follow him as he ran to the railings, sticking his head over before throwing up whatever was on his stomach..sending it to a several hundred foot drop below.

•It's a good thing you held him, otherwise the brotherhood might've been short an elder and you short a partner.

•When confronted with his..let's say "overindulgence", he'll sort of look away and try to change the subject. It's probably best if you try to hide liquor for a while. 

Nick:

(Doesn't drink....)

Old Longfellow:

With his age and experience? He's the same as Hancock.

Piper:

(Daredevil drunk)

•Hope you're sober, because if you aren't- there's a good chance you'll be spending the night in Diamond City Jail.

•Piper is reckless on a good day, putting alcohol with that in mass quantities and she's wild. Just hope you have strong will, because she sure as shit isn't going to back down easy.

•It's kind of funny, but her go to is to do crazy shit. Jump off the roof? Hold her cup. Want to vandalize the great green wall? Fuck yeah. Nothing beats the time she wasn't careful and threw a lit cigarette down Ann Codman's cleavage during a heated argument with her.

•She has no regrets either, so don't expect her to be remorseful in the morning whenever you tell her what she did. If anything, she'll just laugh next time she sees Ann.

Preston:

(Over thinking drunk)

•If it wasn't lowkey annoying, you'd probably think Preston's drunken neuroticism was hilarious. Not to be gotten wrong, but even sober, your love could be extremely insistent..mix his anxious attitude with liquor and you end up with a terrible night.

•You knew better than to let him have more than a couple beers, seeing as his tolerance wasn't exactly the best, and yet here you were. Preston pensively sitting at the bar beside you, rich eyes narrowed and focused on the liquid in his glass- his hands resting against his head.

•"I know you're dying to ask...." "Okay babe, since you brought it up...do you think putting electrical wire around our people's settlements would be a bad idea? It might closely resemble a prison but it's for their own good. Wait- shit, what about the kids? Oh god..."

•He may just sheepishly rub the back of his head and apologize in the morning..but he'll be quick to revisit some of the key points and ideas with you if you so much as give him a chance.

X6-88:

(Ridiculous drunk)

•It was only one time..thankfully.

•You, and your whole group of friends had to convince him to try it out- but once he started, he couldn't stop.

•This asshole would throw down drinks faster than Hancock..which was terrible considering his painfully low tolerance to alcohol.

•One thing goes to another and next thing you know, "The Wanderer" is playing in the background, X is singing and dancing like an idiot, and everyone is gathered around- terrified at what they were seeing. It's sort of like seeing a deathclaw do ballet- so, totally understandable.

•He dares you to bring it up later, dares you.

[honeypiehotchner]

delicate -- Hotch x Reader one-shot

Here’s that one-shot I’ve been holding for a while! Named her delicate after Taylor Swift’s song, purely because of the whole “dive bar on the east side/where you at?” imagery. I listened to the Spotify Singles (acoustic) version of the song while writing this, if you wanna listen while you read! Enjoy!! xx.

Summary: Hotch doesn’t go to bars very often. Until he meets you at one.

Warnings: age gap (reader is somewhere around 24-25), mentioning of being safe at a bar (so alluding to date rape drugs), harassment from one drunk dickhead

Hotch Masterlist

Hotch doesn’t go to bars.

When he’s not on a case, working on paperwork for a case, or caring for his son, he’s normally asleep.

Not at a bar.

But some nights, the memories are too much. Some nights, the cases take a toll on him — especially the children that never made it back home to their parents.

He doesn’t know why he’s in a bar. The only time he comes is when the team goes out and wants to drag him with. It’s normally Dave who manages to get him to agree to a beer or two.

But Aaron is alone this time.

You, on the other hand, know exactly why you’re in a bar.

You’re bored, you’ve just finished your masters degree, you need a drink and some time to yourself to people-watch.

It’s fun, really. Observing people while they’re drunk. You usually have one drink and switch over to water, wanting to remember the things you see while also staying safe.

But occasionally— or, well, more than occasionally by the sheer unfortunate fact of you being a woman alone in a bar, you get the typical man sliding into the seat next to you before he’s even all the way through his rehearsed, “Is this seat taken?”

You never answer. There is no point in trying because their ass already hits the chair before you can say, “Yes, it’s taken, by my foot, now move before I kick it up your ass.”

You never say that, not often. Sometimes the guys can be pretty big assholes, but the bartender, Vanessa, knows you well, so she usually threatens security before you get yourself in trouble.

Unfortunately, tonight looks like it’s going to be one of those nights.

The bar is packed for a reason you aren’t privy too until you see (and hear) the random band start a new song. Great. Performance.

Still, you snag the last seat at the bar, waving to the bartender when she sees you. You barely get the seat warm before she’s sliding your usual in front of you.

“It’s on the house tonight,” she yells.

“What?” You shake your head. “No the fuck it’s not.”

She leans closer so she doesn’t have to yell as loud. “You are my saving grace in this sea of assholes, so yes it is. We can fight about it later.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. You dip your hands underneath the bar to switch your diamond ring from your right to left hand.

Tonight, you’re married.

You got this ring when your last relationship ended so badly. It was a long time coming, and once you were finally able to see the other side, you went out and bought yourself an engagement ring. Just for you. A promise to yourself to start loving yourself harder, and going out with dickheads less.

So far, it’s been wonderful. You’re loving being alone. It was exhausting going on so many first dates, trying to love someone else instead of letting yourself heal.

It’s been two years of singleness for you now, and you’ve loved almost every day.

The “wedding” ring usually makes most of the guys turn the other way. A few that are oblivious will try talking to you, but once they glance at your hand, they excuse themselves.

It’s hysterical, if you’re honest.

But some, unfortunately, don’t give a damn.

Like the guy who has just squeezed his way into the seat next to you.

You roll your eyes and prepare yourself for the shallow conversations because, for some ungodly reason, the band decided now was a good time for a break.

“You come here often?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nope.”

“It’s a pretty good place,” the guy says, waving down the other bartender, his name is Nick. “You should come here more often.”

“Should I, now?”

“Yeah,” the guy grins. “You’ll see me.”

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts.

“Wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

“Can I buy you another drink?”

“No thanks.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Why, do you work here?”

“Look, I’m just trying to be nice.” Ah, there it is. The “nice guy” line.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow. “Good for you. I’m not interested.”

“Ooh,” he feigns hurt, holding an open hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

You shrug. “You’ll get over it.”

“Damn.”

“Mm.”

“You sure you don’t wanna dance?”

“I’m married,” you say easily, picking your glass up with your left hand to show off your ring. You don’t drink from your glass because you made the mistake of looking away for only a moment, so now you’re paranoid that he might’ve slipped something in it.

The guy looks around, then back to you. “I don’t see a husband.” Oh, he sounds so smug. Like he’s pulled one over on you. Moron.

“He’s on a work trip.”

“Well, he’s not here.”

“You don’t want to get on his bad side, dude.”

“Oh really? What’s he do for a living?”

“He works for the FBI.” The lie slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and you almost laugh.

It’s something you’ve pulled from the countless guys that have said they work for the FBI, but have no badge to show for it. It’s always cracked you up. You’re aware there’s an FBI office around here, but you doubt a greasy, blackout drunk works for them. Let alone more than five greasy, blackout drunks in one night.

“The FBI, huh?” The guy says, just taking it in stride. “What’s his name?”

Right as you’re about to make one up until Vanessa can get back over here to threaten security, two arms slip around your waist.

You’re ready to throw caution to the wind along with your fists, but the owner of the arms says, “Just go with it, I’m Aaron.”

You turn your head to see a very handsome older man peering down at you, a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mirror. Something about his face has your gut screaming that you can trust him, so you play along.

“Honey! I thought you were in Texas!” You throw your arms around his neck for good measure, and also for a moment to casually get a good whiff of his cologne. Goddamn. You’ll gladly be his fake-wife. Any day. Forever.

“I was,” Aaron says, squeezing you before letting you go. He moves to stand next to you, his arm around your waist in a protective manner. “We landed early, wanted to surprise you.” He kisses your knuckles to keep up the act, and then settles his eyes on the man who was bothering you.

“You must be the husband,” the guy mutters bitterly. “You really work for the FBI?”

Oh, fuck, you think. This guy just doesn’t give up. A few future scenarios flash before your eyes, but the one most alarming is a fight erupting, which isn’t all that far-fetched. You’d never be able to come back if you caused something like that.

But before you can stumble through some excuse, Aaron is pulling out a badge. An actual badge.

“Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. I’m the unit chief of the BAU,” he says easily, holding his badge out for as long as it takes the guy to inspect it. You have no clue what BAU stands for, but you’re just thanking whatever Gods might be real that this is happening.

The idiot is scowling by the time Aaron puts his badge away. He leaves without a word.

Your jaw nearly drops as you watch the guy go, and literally leave the bar. You had hopes that he’d leave you alone, but leaving the bar entirely is even better.

Aaron’s arm slips from around your waist as he moves to take the now empty seat next to you. All the while you’re gawking at him like you’re in some fever dream.

When he catches your eyes, he says, “What?”

“Am I dreaming?” You blurt. “Do you really work for the FBI?”

He chuckles and pulls out his badge again, holding it out to you where you can read it. And sure as shit, he’s an actual FBI agent. What the fuck.

You look up as he pulls his badge away. “Did you hear me tell the guy my husband worked for the FBI?”

Aaron shakes his head. “That was pure luck. By the way,” he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand, smiling at the fact that Aaron wanted to go through the official pleasantries and that you got to feel how soft his hand is again. “Thank you for that. I thought he’d never leave.”

“No worries. And it’s best he did, I really didn’t feel like arresting anyone tonight.”

“Arresting him? For what?”

“Well for starters, harassment. But since that usually doesn’t hold up very well, I’d have to say it was for his cocaine addiction.”

Your eyes widen. “He was doing coke?”

“Well, not out in the open, of course, but there were traces of it on his nose and his eyes had that look to them. Addicts are easy to spot when you run into them enough.”

Who the hell is this guy?

“Oh, and forgive me, what’s your husband’s name?” Aaron gestures down at your left hand. “I might know him, but I can’t say that I recognize you.”

“Oh,” you move the ring back to your right hand, much to Aaron’s surprise. “I’m not married. I only put it on the left hand to try to avoid assholes like that.”

“I see,” Aaron nods, and if you’re not mistaken, he almost looks pleased.

Vanessa returns to get Aaron’s drink, and then gives you a look.

You want to scream, yes, I’m well aware he is dangerously attractive and that he’s talking to me but don’t you dare say a word to embarrass me.

Instead, you say, “Can you make me another?”

She nods in understanding and pours out your drink, setting off to make a second after sliding Aaron his beer.

“So,” you turn your body and prop your head in your palm. “What’s got an FBI agent in a bar on a Tuesday night?”

He takes a long swig of his beer before answering. “What’s the real story behind that ring on your hand?”

“Answer for an answer,” you sing, smiling at Vanessa when she brings you your drink. She leaves without a word, raising her eyebrows at you.

“The cases can be rough,” Aaron says vaguely, bringing your attention back to him. “You?”

“Got it as a promise to myself to never date another prick ever again,” you chuckle, gazing down at the ring. “It’s worked its magic, so far.”

“So far?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

He smiles through his next swig of beer.

+++

It becomes a routine, you and Aaron sharing a drink at the bar.

To your surprise, he has the same views as you about alcohol. It’s fun to have one drink, but getting wasted and blacking out isn’t.

It’s refreshing, if you’re honest. Everyone your age wants to get absolutely shitfaced every time they go out, and that’s just never been for you.

It helps that Aaron is older. Well— You’re not sure if it helps or not. Because he is significantly older, the farthest you two have gone is sharing a drink at the bar. He usually leaves first, needing to get home to his son, to do more case work, or there was one time when he actually got a call about a case mid-drink. He was gone for two weeks after that.

But he always comes back, and he always finds you here, at this bar.  

You mostly come every night to keep Vanessa company for an hour or two. To give yourself a break from the chaos of reality and to give her a familiar face in the sea of drunken customers.

Every night that Aaron isn’t here, Vanessa asks you where he is. Like you would know (you only do if he tells you of a possible up and coming case). Like you have his number (you don’t). Like you care (you don’t want to admit that you do).

“No Daddy tonight?” Vanessa teases, sliding you your drink.

“If you don’t stop calling him Daddy, I swear to God.”

“Oh, don’t swear to Him. He doesn’t need to get involved.”

You send a glare her way, but you’re holding back a laugh.

“Is he still on a case?” She asks, trying to be serious again.

You shrug. “Who knows. They can last pretty long. He was gone two weeks for the last one.”

“Keeping track, are we?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you two are killing me here, sharing drinks and not saying how you feel. It’s torture to watch you every week, you know.”

“He’s like...twenty years older than me. Or something.”

“And?” She scoffs. “Age is but a number. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. It’s fine.”

You shrug. “He probably just sees me as a friend. He would’ve given me his number or something by now, right?”

“I dunno, men are weird. But he’s older, he’s probably scared to make a move, scared he’ll make you uncomfortable.”

You shrug again. You appreciate her trying to show you the possibilities, the logical reasons for why the two of you haven’t gone any further from the bar, but you aren’t sure what to believe. Plus, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him. The last time you two shared a drink, he didn’t say anything about a case.

So, he’s either on a case again, or has stopped coming.

The latter thought has you debating getting shitfaced wasted for the first time in years. Being blackout drunk would probably hurt you less than if it’s true that he’s just suddenly ditched you.

But what stops you is when Vanessa runs back over, eyes wide. “Just spotted your hottie.”

Oh, now he’s my hottie? “What?” You inwardly scold yourself for sounding a little too giddy at the prospect of him being here. 

But if he’s here, why isn’t he sitting next to you?

Vanessa answers that one for you. “At a table in the back. He’s with friends I think.”

Friends? Never mind then on sharing a drink with him. “Oh, cool.”

Vanessa looks like she wants to say something, but is called away to another customer.

You don’t want to butt in with Aaron’s time with friends, so you stay at the bar, facing forward, nursing your one drink. Your mind conjures a plan in two seconds flat: finish your drink, head out for the night and discreetly look in Aaron’s direction, hopefully catch his eye, but if not, just go home and...shower and go to sleep.

Because if he wants to see you, he will. If he doesn’t, then he won’t.

Good plan.

Or at least, it is, until Aaron is sliding up beside you.

Your heart launches itself into your throat. You don’t say anything because you have no idea what to say. You were too busy assuming he’d rather be with his friends (which is...fine because it’s not like the two of you are...dating) to notice him walking up.

He says something for you, though. “Hey.”

Well, he might as well have stayed silent. What are you supposed to do with that?

“Hey,” you return casually, then offer a small smile. “Thought you’d be gone longer.” You operate on the assumption that he was on a case.

And he was. “This one actually worked in our favor.” He leans his elbows onto the bar, and naturally your eyes follow the movement. He’s not in a stuffy suit like the last few times, but he’s still in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Arms. You’re a complete sucker for arms, and he’s practically teasing you like this.

“That’s good,” you comment, taking a sip from your drink. “Here to celebrate?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Nick brings Aaron his beer, thankfully, because you know Vanessa would’ve made some not-so-vague comment about Aaron being up here -- and maybe let an “accidental” Daddy comment slip.

To your surprise, Aaron sits down.

Your eyebrows furrow. “I thought you’re here with friends?”

Aaron looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “Just my team, yeah. I imagine they’re tired of me, though.”

You doubt that’s the case, but you know that if you say that, he’ll just brush it off.

“Not even gonna introduce me?” You tease instead, but you honestly want to smack yourself. You need to get a better hold on your word vomit. Inviting yourself is insanely rude.

Aaron’s eyebrows raise slightly, clearly not expecting you to say that — or to even want to be introduced to his team. “They’re a lot,” he says. “They’ll make a big deal out of this.”

“This?” You question, gesturing shortly between the two of you. “What is this?”

“What do you want it to be?” He asks carefully, averting his eyes shyly.

“Well,” you exhale dramatically, swirling your drink. “I think when you’ve shared a drink with a woman more than...twenty times, it should at least be considered dating.” You cut your eyes in his direction, your chest swelling as you see a grin breaking out on his face.

“I think I’m a bad date,” he says, confusing you. He chuckles, adding, “You don’t even have my number!”

“I’ll get it at the end of tonight,” you say, touching his arm gently for reassurance. “Come on, I think the back of my head is burning from how hard they’re staring.”

He looks through the corner of his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry in advance for them.”

“No need to apologize,” you shrug. “Friends can be the worst. Vanessa has already started asking questions about you.” You nod toward the bartender that is feigning interest in clearing a space behind the bar.

“I figured,” Aaron murmurs. “Okay.” He slides off the stool, grabbing his beer in one hand, and holding his other one out to you.

Your heart jumps harshly when you take his hand. It’s warm and soft and secure, everything you want and need. You grab your drink in your free hand, giving Aaron’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

As soon as you and Aaron approach the table, the older gentleman is punching the one with tattoos. “Pay up.”

Aaron witnesses the cash exchange and stares at them tiredly. “Seriously, guys?”

Meanwhile, you’re holding back a giggle.

“Well, hello,” the woman with the colorful fashion sense says. “Introduce us!”

Aaron looks ready to pretend like he doesn’t know any of them, so you step up and say, “He told me you guys would be like this.”

That gets him laughing, and he finally says, “Y/N, this is Penelope, Emily, JJ, Spencer, Derek, and Dave.” Each person nods, waves, or smiles when their name is called.

“I’ll try to remember,” you joke. “But no promises.”

You squeeze Aaron’s hand in yours, trying to get him to loosen up. He does, barely, so when he tugs on your hand, silently asking you to step closer to him so his arm can fit around your waist, you oblige.

“What was the bet about?” You ask, nodding toward the men who exchanged cash a bit ago. It was Dave and Derek if you’re remembering names correctly.

“Rossi thought Hotch was going to bring you back over here, but I didn’t agree,” Derek says, nudging Dave’s arm. “I didn’t think you’d go for him.”

“Well, that’d be embarrassing if I went for someone else, considering we’re dating,” you chuckle, leaning your head back to look up at Aaron.

“Dating? So it’s official?” Emily asks, looking a little more excited than you thought any of them would.

“I think it was official the first time we met,” you snicker. “He pretended to be my husband so some dickhead would leave me alone.”

Aaron’s arm tightens around your waist at the memory.

“Okay,” Penelope grabs her drink, then moves over next to you, linking your arm with hers. “Hotch, we’re stealing her. We need details.”

Aaron doesn’t look like he wants to let go at all, but you press a kiss to his cheek. “Told you it’d be fine,” you whisper to him.

He surprises you by pressing a kiss on your lips. Midway through, your brain reminds you that this is technically your first kiss with him. And it’s in front of his friends. Swoon.

After so many dates with guys who were ashamed to be showing any sort of affection toward a woman, it’s nice to find a man who doesn’t care who sees his affection.

What can you say? After dating so many boys, it’s nice to finally find a man.

[rebrandedbard]

could I get 49 for the prompts pleaseeee? (:

*weeping* Em, I love you, defending my honour, giving me a way out. You’ve spared me my dignity.

49. “Well this is awkward ...”

WC:  2106

Tidings and Tarradiddles

Jaskier returns to Posada and his path crosses with Geralt’s once more after the unfortunate affair on The Mountain™

-

How was it? Truly, how was it that of all places on the great, wide Continent, Geralt should come to take a contract in Posada, at the farthest of reaches, after months and months of separation, on the one day Jaskier should be in town? And how was it that he’d come the only hour Jaskier had lingered for a drink? It was too great a coincidence, and Jaskier would not give Destiny the credit. She’d not earned the right to claim it. Jaskier scorned her and had stripped her of the right to interfere in any of his further adventures. After all, Geralt had blamed him for her follies—follies which, by rights, Geralt had brought upon himself in the first place.

Even so, he could feel Destiny’s audaciously long and twitchy nose poking about his business the moment Geralt walked through the tavern door. Jaskier huddled in his corner, hoping the shadows were darker than they had been the day he’d found Geralt hunched beneath them. He ought to have known better than to come in the first place. There had been a whole flock of magpies in the middle of the bridge leading into town—a tiding of magpies. Detestable harbinger of tidings, foul and fair. They’d startled at the sight of him and alighted once more on the tavern roof. But he’d ignored their superstitious warning.

Of course the shadows were of no use to him. The moment Geralt stepped inside, Jaskier saw him twitch, cocking an ear his direction. Probably heard the familiar grinding of his teeth: an annoying habit he so often complained of. Jaskier curled up against the wall, trying to make himself smaller to blend in with his surroundings.

For once, it was not so difficult. He’d grown out his hair, had even maintained a healthy bit of scruff on his face in keeping with the stylings of his fellow tavern-goers. He was tired and worn, but above all, he was plain. He no longer wore bright colors, standing out like a beacon in the dark of night. He wore his linen dyed a plain, sensible, muted green. The jerkin on his back was brown and of a practical fit. Altogether, it did not so much scream of sensibility as it mumbled. If he kept his head low enough, he might pass as just another local come in for a pint.

But he was not just another local.

Geralt stopped before his table, standing at Jaskier’s elbow. The click of metal upon the table made Jaskier look up from his drink. It was a coin, spinning round and round. It wobbled and fell on its face, the etching of a worn coat of arms before him.

“Will … will you sing for us, bard?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier stared at the coin. His ears began to fill with cotton, a faint ringing in them. A flash of hot blood coursed through him and he ground his teeth to a halt. He knew this was Geralt’s way of easing into things, working towards something, whether or not an apology was waiting at the end. He knew this was Geralt offering him an out. It was distant. Impersonal. But even in the depths of his rage, Geralt had called him by name. To call him bard and toss a coin to him like some stranger now … it flamed something red and barbaric to life under his skin. He was so deafened by the blood in his ears, he did not hear the approach of the figure standing at Geralt’s side.

“Well, this is awkward,” Jaskier sneered. He picked up the coin, twiddling it between his fingers. Putting up an impassive mask, he juggled the coin over his knuckles in his best impressive manner, as if it were nothing but a worthless toy. “You see,” he said, “I’m not a bard.”

Geralt was quiet a moment. Jaskier could feel his eyes roaming over him. It raised his hackles to know what Geralt must see: the dark circles under his eyes, the lines of age now more pronounced with exhaustion, crow’s feet so defined they might as well have been dug by the claws of vultures. And then, Geralt must have taken notice at last. Gone were the bold silhouettes and blinding colors, gone were the perfumes and oils—but there was one thing more important than all the rest that was missing.

“Your lute,” Geralt said.

There it was. “Gave it up this very afternoon,” Jaskier replied. He slapped the coin down on the table and leaned back, snatching up his half-empty mug. “I travelled a long way to return it home; Filavandrel has it now.”

He took a drink, still avoiding eyes contact. He continued, mumbling over the rim of his mug. “Had a visit. They’re doing better than they were when last we met. I helped them dig rocks from their crop fields for an hour or two. Figured as long as I was shovelling things, I might as well master the art. Use it productively.”

He was being petty. He knew he was, but by the gods, he’d earned it.

When at last he looked up, he did so because he saw a hint of blue beside the table. The potmaid had been wearing a blue dress, and he thought he now saw his escape. He slid his mug to the edge of the table and lifted his head to ask for it to be taken away when he saw a familiar pair of green eyes looking back at him.

“Cirilla?” he asked, surprised. He blinked at the princess, who looked down at the table as his eyes fell upon her. He remembered her as someone taller, regal head held high, smiling, her hair half up in decorative braids and twists. This was not a princess before him, but a girl: her hood casting shadows upon her hollow face. It seemed wrong. She had always been a girl, but a girl with a name. This creature before him stood as a reflection of himself, a thing wishing to hide away, nothing more than a shell.

She glanced up at him, then down once more. Slowly she raised her hand to the table and placed it over the coin. She pushed it towards him with a quiet slide, then dropped her hand once more. “He said you sing wonderful,” she muttered, as if she had not heard him singing in Cintra’s court nearly every midsummer since birth.

Jaskier’s voice stuck in his throat. The memory of a song sat heavy on his tongue. “I … I don’t sing anymore,” he grit out. He turned to look away again, staring at the crack between his bench and the wall. “Can’t sing without music anyway. Might as well be poetry.”

Having no music left him exposed. There was nothing to lift him up, nor anything to hide behind. He could sing among the crowd and raise his voice to join a drinking song, but there was something vulnerable about singing alone. Who sang among bar patrons without some barrier? Even the drunks had their drink to shield them.

He saw Geralt shift out of the corner of his eye. Something new slid across the table, stopping just short of his hand. He looked and saw one of his old notebooks.

“You write good poetry,” Geralt said.

Jaskier scoffed and picked up the notebook. “If there were anything in this worth keeping, I would have remembered to bring it with me when I went down the mountain.” He flipped through the pages, then let the notebook flop back on the table. “You obviously have poor taste,” he huffed.

Without warning, Geralt picked up the notebook and thwacked him on top of his head with the cover.

“Gah! Hey!” Jaskier shouted. He stood up and snatched the book back, smacking Geralt’s arm with it. “What in fuck’s name did you do that for, you brute!”

But he’d looked at Geralt, forgetting to snub him if only a moment. And Geralt plucked the book from his hand with an upward quirk of the lips. “It’s worth keeping,” he said. He handed the book to Ciri, who clutched it tight to her chest in agreement, but still, she looked at Geralt with a stern expression.

“That wasn’t what you were supposed to say,” she scolded.

Geralt’s eyes rolled back and he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Not to me.”

Geralt opened his eyes. He looked at Jaskier, opening his mouth to speak once more. But the look on Jaskier’s face stopped him. Instead, he turned to the door, stalking quickly across the room, words aborted on his tongue.

Jaskier gaped.

“Geralt!” Ciri called. “Where are you going?”

“Just wait here.”

“Geralt!”

“Dinner. I’ll be back in the hour.”

Ciri threw up her hands and dropped onto the opposite bench. She slammed Jaskier’s notebook down on the table and crossed her arms over it. She groaned in frustration, then turned her head to look out at the tavern floor.

“Have you had dinner yet?” she grumbled.

Jaskier looked between her and the door, feeling quite at a loss. “No,” he replied.

“Then you can eat Geralt’s share.” She rummaged in her cloak and pushed a little drawstring bag into his hands. “Here, he left me his purse.”

“And left you from the look of things. Shall I charge him for babysitting?”

“Do. And order another drink.”

Jaskier snorted. “Trying to get me to stay?” He wasn’t so irresponsible as to leave a child alone, even with the threat of Geralt’s return. He didn’t need to be persuaded.

“No. Punishing him for running out; you get his drink into the bargain. Think of it as sending him to bed without supper.”

“I’ll drink to that. It’s the least of the punishments I could inflict.”

They both chuckled mildly at that. A bit of the dense atmosphere lifted and they shared a look. Jaskier cleared his throat and waved for the potmaid. He ordered fare for the two of them, a mug of ale for himself, and a cup of small beer for Ciri. Once they’d both had a bite, they began talking. They traded stories: how Ciri came to Geralt’s care, and what Jaskier had been doing since the separation. Though the conversation was tense, it felt … good … to have a bit of company. He’d been worried since word of the fall of Cintra had reached him. At least Destiny had brought Ciri to Geralt safely. He hoped Destiny would be kind to her where it had failed him.

Jaskier startled when Geralt returned. He’d crept up so silently. Jaskier had been listening to Ciri describe her most recent success in outdoor cooking and hadn’t noticed the movement beside him. Geralt set the lute on the table in front of Jaskier’s empty plate with a sudden thunk, not a word of explanation. He stood there silently, holding the lute upright by its neck.

No one spoke.

Jaskier simply stared at it, felt Geralt stare at him. But this time, he refused to look up. Slowly, Geralt lay the lute down on the table, then slipped away. A minute passed, everything still and quiet. Then, Jaskier peeked out of the corner of his eye and saw Geralt nudge Ciri, nodding his head toward the door.

Ciri looked at Jaskier, her brow anxious and furrowed. She clutched her cup, nearly finished, her plate barren. He could see her mind at work, trying to find an excuse to stay. But she set her cup down obediently. As she turned to stand, she left the notebook behind. Eyes downcast, she slumped to her feet. Geralt held out his hand for her, no longer looking at Jaskier. The moment Geralt’s back was turned, Jaskier felt a cold panic run through him.

“Wait!” he said, fumbling to his feet.

Geralt froze, turning his head back slightly to listen.

But for what? Jaskier reached out, hesitating. He picked up his lute, finding the coin beneath it. The noise made Geralt turn back and Jaskier met his eye. He’d never seen Geralt look so blank, completely unreadable.

Jaskier slung the strap of the lute over his head. He pushed the coin deliberately into his pocket and braced his hands on the strings. When he looked at Geralt again, there was the barest crack in his armour, and hope shined dimly through. Jaskier smiled. It was a timid thing, but he still remembered how it was done.

“You asked for a song,” he said.

-

Send me a drabble prompt!

[ridethewritings]

spending a day with the boys. (headcanons!)

request: hey, i got a request!! i know this is super like general lmao i hope it's enough to work with! but maybe some headcanons on how each of the boys would choose to spend a day off from band duties with the reader! thanks in advance, dude!☺️

a/n: thank you @glambby for being my very first request. i’m forever grateful! :’) i hope you like these headcanons! i may or may not have gotten super emotional while writing cliff's headcanons. </3

warnings: none!

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james hetfield:

- being with james, you knew you had signed up for everything that came with this package. you fucking knew that you were about to have fun when he brought out some liquor from your liquor cabinet.

- this living room sure as hell was big enough for the both of you to get drunk and dance around, singing the lyrics to some random music you put on the stereo.

- the drunken stumbles of the both of you sent you into a fit of laughter as you slowly crumpled to the floor. james would have a huge grin on his now reddened face, cheeks pink from laughter.

- there is nothing like getting stupid, silly drunk with james hetfield. you thanked whoever was in the sky that you two didn't have neighbors in close enough proximity to y'all. hell, you damn sure knew if you did that you'd be getting noise complaints.

- once you two calmed yourselves, james brought out one of his acoustic guitars. another thing you absolutely loved about spending time with him this way. he gets relaxed, and he plays whatever he wants, and you sit there with a glass, the last few sips of your liquor in it.

- god damn, this man can sing. listening to him sing was amazing. it always amazed you at how talented he was, and it makes you wonder how the fuck you got to this point, being with him, the love of your life.

kirk hammett:

- this boy and his horror movies. you like horror movies too? "new horror movie out! let's go to the movies tonight-"

- "kirk, honey, you just got home today. relax-"

- "this movie looks so good though, just look at it!"

- eventually you gave in, and to be honest, you looked at the trailer and unfortunately, it did look like a good movie. now you REALLY had to see it.

- at the movies, he lets you get all the snacks you want, and he gets some himself, and of course he's getting the largest bucket of buttery popcorn for the two of you to share. he wants to make sure you both have everything you possibly need so that way the two of you wouldn't have to get up during the movie.

- go to the bathroom BEFORE you get into the movie, too! just so you don't miss any of the movie. if you do end up having to go again, he won't be upset, but instead, he'd follow you out so he can make a soda run for you after because your sodas ran out.

- oh yes, reclining in the top row of chairs and holding hands between all of the snacks you both put out and started munching on, stealing little kisses from you every now and then.

- needless to say, you two had a blast, and when you went home, you both went to bed, your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat slowing to a resting.

lars ulrich:

- walking through downtown, checking out small shops, his hand was in yours almost the whole time. crossing the street, he would never let your hand go, he'd keep you near him at all times. this man is protective.

- the street was lit with dim street lanterns, and the brick sidewalks made ways for the people in town to get around easily. there was music thumping throughout the town from not only the restaurants, but a small music store you spotted.

- you ended up dragging him into the music store to look at the metallica records. whoops? and the first one you grabbed to look at was the and justice for all record, which you knew had a picture of lars on the back. "look at you!" you said softly, pointing your finger at the picture of him.

- your comments on the photo made him have to resist the urge to smile, his cheeks getting rosy as he let out a small and barely audible laugh. and thank GOD no one noticed that it was actually him, lars ulrich, in the music store as you were making your way around, looking at the metallica albums happily.

- as much as he loved seeing you excited, and seeing your happiness about his band's success, he knew it was almost time for the two of you to get going.

- you've both never been in this town before, and you loved it already. you loved the hustle and bustle of this small town, the sidewalks crowded with small groups of people every once in a while, which wasn't a problem because they usually kept on their side and passed y'all without hesitancy.

- it was great, until he checked the time, then he took your hand, telling you that you both needed to leave.

- mans really made a secret reservation to a really really great restaurant that was located in this town. that was why he wanted y'all to be here this late. you weren't complaining about the town, though. you loved the streets and the small stores. this town was pretty cute.

- when he led you towards a restaurant that you laid your eyes on when you passed it moments ago, you made an audible noise.

- the smile that appeared on his face told you everything. and you loved him for that.

- the restaurant smelled and looked absolutely stunning, and he knew you wanted to go there when you passed it before. and honey, disappointment was not a word in your vocabulary when you left that restaurant. you two had a blast, and in fact, that restaurant was now your number one favorite. that food was BANGIN'.

cliff burton:

- cliff would be the person to take you out for a ride in his car, and just park at a peaceful and quiet place that he knows won't have other people at. just a regular hangout place that only he knows.

- it's nothing too fancy, but it's a great place to just relax and get away from society. how he knew about this place, you have no idea, but you're glad he took you here.

- he'd probably smoke a small bit, listening to music on the car radio, and eventually he'd turn it up so the two of you could go outside and sit on the hood of the car, taking in the fresh air.

- he would let you rest your head on his shoulder, and smile when you point out different clouds and their shapes. stay out for a little longer and the both of you would be looking at the stars, the first constellation he points out, being orion's belt.

- if you were hungry afterwards once he'd taken you home, he would call and order in.

- being in cliff's presence was and always has been a blessing from the stars, and you were very very grateful to have him. he may be quiet and chill, but you love him for it, and it always makes you relaxed whenever you are able to spend time with him. no matter how you spend that time.

jason newsted:

- you found yourself mesmerized by jason's curly hair blowing in the wind while the top of the convertible was down, the two of you going 85 on the freeway towards the mountains.

- boy were you excited to spend time with him for the night in that cabin in the mountains, seeing the pictures of the cabin and the views online before you went and booked a cabin over call.

- well, you were not disappointed when you rolled up to the cabin. even the views while driving up the mountain were gorgeous. remembering the way jason compared the mountain to you, saying that the views were gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as you.

- he said that, and all you could do was let out a small laugh, and he noticed that what he said, was in fact cheesy. but it was okay, because you loved him.

- getting into the cabin, the first thing you noticed was the warm smell of vanilla and cinnamon. maybe from the candles, maybe from the brand new bottle of rum that you spotted in the small liquor cabinet, along with some small shot glasses that were tempered with the gentlest of hands in warm red and orange color.

- the rest of the night went extremely well, you both had a nice dinner, some drinks, and relaxed in the outside hot-tub that sat in the corner of the screened in back porch, which overlooked the mountains of trees, a lake in the middle of the valleys.

- sleeping with him next to you for a night had to be the best feeling in the world, being in his arms after he was away for so long. it really takes it's toll on you, and he knows it. every time he has to leave, he apologizes profusely, and you tell him it's okay, that it's his job. and hell, whenever he does have free time for you, he always misses you too.

robert trujillo:

- what can i say? robert is a romantic, much like lars. he will want to take you out, no ifs ands or buts about it. insist that you two should stay home? sure, but he’ll find a way to make it romantic. want to go out? you bet your ass he’ll take you wherever you want to go.

- if you want to stay home, he would definitely close the blinds and curtains, make the house dimly lit instead of all bright from the light outside.

- hungry? he’ll cook for you, and you better not get up to try and help him. and to be honest, he’d cook a slammin’ meal.

- if you’re cold, he’ll go and grab both of you a big blanket to wrap the two of you up in, just to snuggle and watch whatever you want. another giant teddy bear!

- going out on this day, he’d cruise around in the vehicle with you, giving you the reins for the choice of music. no complaints from him, not a peep, he'd just listen to you sing the lyrics and have a smile on his face.

- man is just happy to spend this day with the love of his life. he'd do anything to make you happy.

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [2] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, josei, mild angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) Notes: tbh idk how marriage works in japan, all i know is that once you have both your signatures in the marriage registration certificate with one witness then you guys r married skdjssks anyways onto the story- also might i add this is happy story?? i promise yall, all youll see is cute stuff in this story bcos fuck angst (ok maybe lil angst since you know plot development) but i stand by that nanami kento deserves that trip to malaysia under the sun with his lover! before i forget to add, the age dynamics is that y/n is around 25 and nanami is 38. no power play and all that, just two healthy consenting adults! sorry for the early delete had some minor corrections :( 

Izakaya-informal japanese bar

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next]  [updates; every friday yay!]

*13 hours earlier; a night before at some random Izakaya in Tokyo*

You sat in front of your phone and three bottles of saki, despite your friends advising you countless of times to lay off drinking too much, all sense and warnings are thrown off the window tonight.

You’re clearly far from sobriety as you recall the video chat with your otosan not looking too good and bright, “Why don’t you move back home? It’s not like the teaching job at tokyo is all that great! You’re alone there and your obachan and I don’t like that a lot…” your father’s words haunt you again and again.

Just what was wrong with living alone? And excuse your otosan but you definitely had a very good job at Tokyo High (It was a prestigious academy that paid well, best job out there that you still didn’t know how you landed). You mumbled a few curses underneath your breath, Oh, how much you love that oaf of a father and worrywart of a grandmother but could they lay off the idea of settling down? You were a responsible and good child who never had stepped a toe out of line. Wasn’t that enough already? You immediately downed the drink and let the saki burn your throat down.

“Oh ho, slow down there.” You hear someone say, “You’re all alone and it seems like you have no one to help you back home.”

It seemed like the men on the opposite side of the bar had noticed you.

“I can take myself home, thank you very much.” You mumbled, loud enough for them to hear. Unlike older men who liked to prey on you for your innocent stature. The men who sat across you in the Izakaya didn’t really exude that sort of energy (what can you say, you had a knack of experiencing that, unfortunately).

“Are you sure? We can ask the owner to call a cab for you. She’s a woman and she’s a friend of ours.” the other one in robes pipes in, wait, was that a Buddhist monk?

“No, I’m good. It’s just…” You paused before letting out a long sigh, “A bad time so I need to stick around for a bit.”

The white-haired stranger tilts his head just a bit, “Seems like you and a friend of mine are both going through some rough patches.” he replied, pointing towards his blonde company who you didn’t notice until now.

You wordlessly shifted your gaze towards the office worker next to the Buddhist monk, you hadn’t noticed the blonde man until now. It seemed like he was going through a rough time too since the pair was loud and boisterous enough to conceal his silent presence.

You notice how out of place he looks with his crisp and clean suit, hard gaze, and silence. It made you wonder what sort of man hangs out with two contrasting personalities, “You’re wondering if he’s our friend or our boss, aren’t ya?” the white-haired man asks.

You immediately turn red in embarrassment, were you that easy to read? You try to stutter out an apology but the monk waves it off, “It’s alright, we get it all the time. Contrary to popular belief, Kento is two years younger than us and is our junior from high school.” He smiles.

“Ah,” you nodded mutely, “Sorry. It definitely wouldn’t make sense to see a boss and his subordinates at an Izakaya.”

“Oh, Kento-chan doesn’t usually go out drinking but he couldn’t resist. After all, he’s a father with two very emotional teenage boys.” The white-haired man teased in a sing-song voice. It seemed like the three were close, with the way they were carelessly lounging around the stoic and kind-of scary man.

“I’m starting to wonder if he gets that teasing attitude from you.” The blonde man, seemingly out of his trance, called out his friend. Contrasting to his aloof features, he didn’t mask the annoyance in his tone.

“Oh, uh, do you need help?” you quietly asked, tilting your head to the side in wonder. The blonde man’s head snapped to your direction and quirked a brow.

“And you are?” he seemed to be calculating and observing you from head to toe. It suddenly made you a bit self-conscious because this older gentleman had no business being this good looking and scary at the same time.

“Oh, I’m Y/N by the way. I’m actually a high school teacher.” You introduced yourself sheepishly, “I’m always surrounded by angsty teenagers.”

His gaze narrowed just a bit, it seemed like he’ll be giving you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was a bit desperate since he was getting advice from a drunk stranger in an Izakaya out of all places, “So what seems to be the problem, Ojisan?”

He’s still quite hesitant so it’s his white haired friend who speaks out for him, “You see, Kento-chan here just moved last week because of a promotion from Kyoto.” he grins, telling the story for his friend, “His kids aren’t very keen with the moving, well one of them is outright showing it and the other one is well keeping it in since he’s just the sweeter one.”

The white-haired stranger keeps babbling on about how his friend had regretted taking the work promotion because it feels like he shouldn’t have done that. You peerlessly observe the older man’s reaction while his friend talks about his problems to you. He remains stoic.

It didn’t look like it but it seemed like this man had such a soft spot for his kids.

How nice, his wife must be proud of him.

“... and before I forget to add, Kento-chan is very much single.”

You almost choke on your saliva, this friend of his sure knew how to run his mouth. It suddenly dawns upon you why this man had been very worried, he was a single parent who only wanted what was best for his boys but he didn’t even know how he should proceed now.

“Um, ojisan?” You quietly call out, “I think you’re doing great.”

Silence lingered in the air for a bit, you cringed at your rather awkward and forward approach, “Excuse me?” the older blonde man asked, clearly dismayed by your response.

“It’s just…” you ears turn red, not from the alcohol but from embarrassment, “You wouldn’t have moved in the first place if the pay wasn’t better than your old job, right? Plus you’re alone and raising two kids. It definitely isn’t easy to provide for everything alone but I can see that you did some careful reevaluation on the whole thing. Obviously you can’t avoid the fact that they feel bad but you can sit them down and talk to them about how the whole thing was beneficial not just for you but for them too.”

You spoke way too quickly that you wondered if the man could understand you.

The blonde man holds his breath for a moment, “I know…” he mumbles, “I just don’t really know how to talk to them.”

“Well, maybe you could take them out?” You advised, “Spend a whole day with them for a while and just move around with them. Help them get acquainted around their new school or something!”

You watch him silently look at his glass and think it over. Man, if this guy wasn’t older, your obaasan would outright agree and tell you to go out with him since she was never fond of how men weren’t as calm or laid back as he was.

“That sounds plausible. Thank you, Y/N-san.” his voice turned a bit softer and you feel your stomach turn just a little queasy by his tone. God, was the alcohol this bad?

“Well, would ya look at that.” the white-haired man grins, placing his drink up as if he was signaling everyone to cheers with him, “I told you drinking at an Izakaya would solve all your problems. For that, we should drink here again next week!”

The man glared at him yet again, “No. I should be heading home now. I can’t be anymore away from S-”

“Ah, ah. You promised that you’d stay until 2 am.” The white-haired man hushed, “Or I’ll be pestering you for a whole month.”

You could definitely tell that a vein popped on his forehead and his blood pressure was shooting up. Man, you were really starting to doubt that white-haired man was older than everyone in this room. He sure had the mental age of an elementary student.

“You also said I could leave after five drinks.”

“That’s only your second.”

“Satoru…” the Buddhist monk dangerously hovers over his white-haired friend. Wow, middle-age men sure were amusing, “You don’t even drink that well and he has to drive home…”

“Tit for tat, I’ll hire one of my personnel to drive you home after five drinks and I’ll leave you alone for a wee-”

“Please just leave me alone for my whole life.” the blonde man deadpanned.

Unlike you, he wasn't such a bad drinker. Four bottles for him and one more drink for you later, you're both kind of woozy and you had gotten on even friendlier terms with the three men who you now know as Geto-ojisan, Gojo-ojisan, and finally, Nanami-ojisan. Nanami was well into his late thirties while Geto and Gojo were in their forties.

If you were sober, you wouldn’t be making friends with older men. With stories of how easily young people are taken advantage of in the big city, you’d swerve away from them. Luckily, it seemed like they were a good trio and not once did they invite you to sit on their table so you had some good distance between you four and so far, they hadn’t tried anything funny or uncomfortable.

Geto is currently a lawyer, Gojo’s apparently some swanky businessman of god knows what        you heard jewelry or something      and Nanami was an accountant. A job that he described was ‘dead-end’ and ‘fucking boring’.

“...What happened to your wife, Nanami-ojisan?” you ask, the alcohol slowly shedding your shyness away.

“I told ya, Y/N-chan. He never was married. The way he got the kids was just complicated!” Gojo Satoru frowns, splaying his long limbs in the air, for a man so enthusiastic with drinking, he sure got drunk pretty quickly.

“Really? Didn’t you have a hard time? Wow…” you whistled, “I have such high…” you raised your hand as high as you could, “...respects for like, single parents!”

“See? See? But he can’t get a partner because of that Y/N-chan.” Gojo pouts, “...We’ve been setting him up on dates and such but he keeps bailing on them!”

“I have kids.” Nanami deadpans, narrowing his eyes.

“What my friends are trying to say, Kento has a number of opportunities to bring a partner into his life but he likes to use the boys and his work as an excuse.” Geto surmised, it seemed like the lawyer was also starting to feel the effects of the alcohol since he had become more talkative.

“He’s good-looking, right Y/N-chan? If he probably didn’t act like some fossil from the Triassic period, he wouldn’t have a problem sometimes about the boys having a mother figure!” Gojo rants, making Nanami flick his forehead.

“Idiot, must you tell this stranger all my problems?” Nanami harshly interjected.

“Well, you do know that to actually get a partner, you must get out there, right ojisan?” you try to calm him down, you didn’t want a bar fight to erupt.

“I know.” he rolls his eyes, “But the kids-”

“I know.” You try to smile, “You aren’t very interested in bringing just anyone in your life, right? The boys need a permanent figure and you think dating around is going to help.”

“Holy shit, Y/N-chan.” Gojo exclaims, “I thought you were a teacher? How come you know all this shit?”

“It’s basic, Gojo-san.” you smile, ready to take another swig of your saki, “You should take into consideration that Nanami-san isn’t just anyone who’d settle for less. He needs stability since he’s technically a parent.”

“That makes you a perfect pair, don’t you think?” Geto nonchalantly replies, “I mean, you need a stable man in your life who has all of it figured out and wouldn’t hold you back at all while Kento here needs a person who could not only be a good parent but also be as understanding.”

“That’s…” you chuckle, he technically was right, “That’s definitely odd how all our problems will be solved if we both just went out together.”

“... looks young enough to be my child.” Nanami rejoined, “why would Y/N-san like-”

“I mean, you’re good looking.” you shrug, rather shamelessly, “I wouldn’t mind going out with you. Heck, I wouldn’t mind if I married you.”

Gojo spits out the saki he was drinking all over the table and that makes you cringe in disgust, “As long as he doesn’t get invited to the wedding. I’d marry you. If you’d like we could even get married right here, right now.” you proudly proclaim.

The blonde man is thrown off by your statement yet he’s too drunk to even sip in the seriousness of your words, “Well as much as I agree on not inviting Gojo to my wedding, I don’t know-” he tries to explain.

“You know what, isn’t Geto-san a lawyer? He could have it notarized and all that right now then we could get married. I’ll be a great mom and help you out then you could help me get my family off my back. You scratch my back, I scratch yours!”

Geto is definitely in shock, how odd was it that he even had a marriage registration certificate in his briefcase back in the car too?

You both could just sign it and Satoru could sign it as your witness and he could have it officially notarized since he had his seal back there too.

Solved.

“So, Nanami-san, what do you say? Wanna marry me?”

Oh god, were you shameless.

Who in the right mind would marry a stranger, one who was thirteen years older and a father?

One thing was for sure, your friends were right. You definitely needed to stay away from alcohol.

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm  ; @frankenstein852  ;  @neavil  ; @shephard17895  @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant​ ; @bleepop​ ; ​

@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ; @katshuya  ; ​

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Chapter 9 (M)

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader (feat. EXO members)

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, smut

 Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @strawbaeri-s @xiuweetbbh

Masterlist

Saturday had finally arrived. It was 6am when you woke up, but you were far too excited to go back to sleep. You tossed and turned for a little while, trying to convince your body to give you a few more minutes of rest just so you wouldn’t get tired early but it was no use. The last time you’d felt like this was when you were a kid and there was a big class field trip coming up, or on Christmas morning. That sense of child-like excitement was something you didn’t even realize you’d missed so much. As an adult waking up in the mornings was almost always shitty, but today you were so excited the idea of sleep didn’t even sound appealing anymore. God. Maybe you were just as whipped as him.

 After giving in to your excitement you got up, and started making breakfast. You were worried that you’d be tired or groggy on the date so you made sure to add an extra shot of espresso to your morning latte. Falling asleep hadn’t been easy either. You kept thinking about all the different possibilities of where he might take you, and you had been especially distracted by Baekhyun’s promise of what would come after. 

You had put a great deal of effort into looking nice for the club last week, but this week you didn’t even know where to start. Getting ready for a real date was very different than getting ready for the club. At the club you could cover yourself in glitter and body oil and do the most extra makeup looks one could imagine, and there wasn’t much to the outfits anyway. But what the hell were you supposed to do for a date where all you knew was that it was outside? You wanted to put in effort still, of course, but doing too much might be weird if it’s more of a casual thing. But Baekhyun wouldn’t just do something casual right? It would be something fancy for sure. But then what were you supposed to wear that was relatively fancy but worked for being outdoors? 

You still wanted to be able to be comfortable so after some time and careful deliberation, you decided on a sundress and simple makeup. The sundress also had the advantage of allowing you to forego wearing a bra, and it was remarkably easy to remove. You had a feeling Baekhyun would appreciate that later on. 

As the morning went on you tried your best to keep your mind occupied and prolong the process of getting ready in order to leave as little time as possible to get anxious, you knew as soon as you would get bored the nervousness would start. So you kept yourself busy. 

3:00pm drew closer and closer and despite your best efforts you felt yourself becoming restless. You internally cursed Mia for being busy all day so she wouldn’t be there to help you not freak out.  

Unfortunately you were ready by 2:00, leaving you an entire hour to mull over your thoughts as they made you more and more antsy. 

After an hour of pacing around the house and checking your hair and makeup way too many times, you finally heard a knock on the door. You basically sprinted across the house at the sound. 

To your relief Baekhyun wasn’t dressed very fancy, just a white short sleeved button down tucked into black shorts. But oh did the sight of him still make your heart flutter. His hair was perfectly styled and he just looked so good.  

“Hi, you look beautiful,” He said as his eyes traveled up and down your body. “You ready to go?” You responded with a nod and threw your arms around him for a hug, which he happily returned. “Come on then.”

As you approached his Audi he opened the door for you to get in, and it somehow looked even fancier than you had remembered, although you had been slightly drunk when you’d last been in his car. 

You stayed quiet, and Baekhyun put on some music as he pulled out and started driving. After a few minutes you heard him softly singing along, and you wondered why he didn’t tell you sooner that he could sing so well. 

“You have a really nice voice.” You spoke softly, and he turned to look at you briefly. 

“You think so? I was in a band in high school, and I think I was pretty good but I never kept up with it, although I do still like singing.” 

“You should do it more if you like it, or you can at least sing to me anytime.” 

He shot you a smile and continued singing along to the music, but now with more confidence.

Everything about him just seemed to get more and more perfect. No man had ever impressed you this much, had made you feel this lucky and special. It made you even more scared that you would do or say something that would mess everything up. 

“Nervous?” He asked, noticing how quiet you were being. 

“Yeah, I just, I don’t know. I don’t wanna make things weird and mess everything up.” 

He placed a hand on your thigh, and once the car was stopped at a light his eyes met yours. “Don’t be, I promise there’s nothing you can do that will make today any less magical, the fact that I’m getting to take you out at all is enough for me.” 

The warmth in the way he looked at you then helped melt away some of your worries. He was right of course, you knew he liked you too much for you to really be able to mess this up, but the mystery of where he was taking you made you worry nonetheless. 

For about another 30 minutes Baekhyun drove the two of you further and further out of the city, until eventually he parked at the bottom of a large hill, seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

‘Um, Baekhyun, where are we? You’re not about to murder me are you?” 

“No” he chucked, “definitely not, just follow me.” 

He took your hand and started walking you up the hill until you were about halfway up and you could almost see to the other side. 

“I need you to close your eyes.” 

You did as you were told, and he kept guiding you by your hand as you blindly followed. Your heart rate had gone up significantly, still not having any clue what he had in store for you. Especially now that you were out here seemingly with nothing and nobody else around. 

A few shaky steps later he told you to open your eyes, and with your heartbeat loudly thumping in your ears, you finally did. 

What you saw had not been what you were expecting at all, though you hadn’t had a clue what to expect in the first place. 

On the other side of the hill was an enormous balloon that was slowly being inflated. 

He was taking you on a hot air balloon. 

You could feel his eyes on you, waiting for some sort of reaction, but all you could do was stare in awe at the giant colorful mass in front of you. In your mind you started to think about how the hell he even pulled this off, how he even had the resources for something so extra, and for a first date. The longer you looked the more you felt the guilt start to set in. He had probably spent a ridiculous amount of time and money setting this up, and you had pestered him about the secret like some ungrateful child. Eventually the whole situation had tears brimming in your eyes from pure disbelief. 

Baekhyun quickly took notice and pulled you forwards to face him. 

“What’s wrong? Do you not like it? We can leave and do something else if-” 

You grabbed his face and cut him off with a kiss, as you felt a tear escape.

“You’re fucking insane. I can’t believe this is what you were planning, how the hell did you even get a hot air balloon?” You said as you wiped away another tear, but the smile that had made its way onto your face let Baekhyun let out a sigh of relief. 

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, really. Jongdae, I don’t know if you remember him from the club, but he’s got all kinds of connections and he did this for him and his wife last year so I got him to help me out.” 

You still just shook your head in disbelief. “You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy about you,” he grinned, “now come on.” 

He grabbed your hand again and started pulling you towards the balloon again, which was now almost upright. As you got closer you noticed the picnic set and bottle of champagne that were sitting on a small table in the center of the basket, with a bench on either side for each of you to sit on. 

The man who was operating the balloon gave the two of you a quick safety briefing before you stepped into the basket and he closed the small door behind you. 

After a few moments you felt yourself lift off, and slowly the balloon lifted the two of you up towards the clouds. 

“Um, Baekhyun?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“What if I’m afraid of heights.” 

“I’m right here,” He grabbed your hand between his own, “You know I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I’ve also been told it’s not so bad as long as you don’t look down.” 

Luckily when you were seated you could only see the view off in the distance, so it wasn’t too frightening. As the balloon ascended further and further you started to realize how beautiful it was. The scenery from this angle was breathtaking and this high up in the sky there was a pleasant cool breeze as well.

You were torn out of your train of thought when you saw Baekhyun grab the bottle of champagne along with two glasses. He popped the cork out, which went flying out of the confines of the basket, plummeting down to earth. 

“Oops.” 

You giggled and he poured both of you a glass before reaching for the picnic basket. He pulled out two black boxes, and he opened yours and set it down in front of you revealing one of the most beautiful arrangements of sushi you’d ever seen. 

“God you are unreal.” You breathed out as you examined the meal in front of you more closely. 

“You like it?” 

“Yes, of course, I love it. I love all this, I- I don’t even know what to say. Nobody’s ever done something like this for me before.” 

“As long as you’re enjoying yourself.” He grinned back at you. "I wanted to do something that was different, something that you would hopefully be able to look back at later as a nice memory for us to share together. I know this technically is our first date but we’ve known each other a while so it really didn’t feel that way to me.” 

The way he treated you, spoke to you, touched you, still seemed too good to be true. The question used to plague you, but now you wanted to know more out of the selfish need for validation more than anything else. 

“Baekhyun, why do you like me so much? You’re around pretty girls all the time, why me?” 

He let out a small breathy laugh, took a drink of his champagne and met your gaze. “You make me feel like a kid again.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“When I first saw you that night at your work, I remember thinking you were so sexy, so beautiful, so way out of my league, talking to you made me feel like a silly teenager with a crush on a girl who wouldn’t show him the light of day anyway. I hadn’t felt like that in almost a decade, but just in that one night you made me feel it again. That’s why I knew I had to come back, too. The more I talked to you the more I felt we actually had a connection too, although I didn’t think it was really real, I thought you were just good at talking to me, but it made me feel so good I didn’t really care. I never thought you’d end up actually liking me this much. Two weeks ago at the club when you were drunk and started to get more touchy with me I thought I was going insane, I couldn’t believe that you might actually be attracted to me like that. I’m 30 now and I spent basically all of my 20′s trying to please other people and make those around me happy, even if it meant I had to settle. I would let coworkers or my family set me up with people who seemed, I don’t know, proper. But it was never fun or exciting, always just one boring dinner date after the next, with people I felt nothing for. I regret it a lot now, but I’m so thankful I got to meet you, cause I feel like now thanks to you I can finally experience those parts of my youth that I missed out on.” 

You were speechless. Your mind was in overdrive, trying to find some words that would live up to what he had said, to properly express what you were feeling, but they just didn’t exist. He stared at you as you stared back, desperately trying to get something to come out of your mouth but it felt impossible.

“Sorry, I know that was a lot at once, but I’ve wanted to tell you for a while now. Meeting you is the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time.” 

His words had you flustered and cheeks tinted pink. “Meeting you is the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time too. Maybe ever.” 

Baekhyun felt like his heart was about to burst. “When did you realize you liked me as more than just a customer?” 

You had thought about this a lot, trying to decipher when in your own mind you had come to the realization, because you had fought it so vehemently. 

“When I let you touch me. I never allowed anyone to do that before you, and I wouldn’t admit it to myself until later but it was that night.” 

“Why were you scared to admit it to yourself?” 

“I think I was still worried about letting you into my life, since I never do that with people from work. I don’t even hang out with the other girls there, I want to keep that part of my life separate. And once you were my professor I was even more scared because I knew in the back of my mind that I did like you but now there was even more to worry about because I didn’t want to get you in trouble. That still worries me a lot.” 

“You don’t need to worry about that, I know what I’m getting myself into and I know the risks. I wouldn’t be serious about this if I wasn’t willing to take that risk. But I think things will end up fine. As long as nobody finds out while you’re my student, nothing can happen. We just have to be a bit careful. That’s actually another reason I chose this for the date, I didn’t want to risk somebody seeing us, as much as I would love to be able to show you off.” 

“This is perfect, really. I can’t think of anything more magical.” You said as you took a bite of your sushi and looked around at the view surrounding you. “I’m definitely going to remember this for a long time.” 

The date went on and the two of you laughed together while enjoying the view, the food, and the champagne. It really was magical, you felt like you were in your own little fairytale world up in the sky with him, you were convinced nothing could beat this feeling. The way Baekhyun spoke to you always made you feel so comfortable and he could make you laugh so easily. Whenever the two of you were together, things just felt right. 

Eventually you finished your meals, and it was time to make your way back down to earth. As you watched the slow descent you started to think about what was coming next. The thoughts had plagued you the night before as well. You were getting closer and closer to Baekhyun finally having you, and now it was almost time. 

You worried that you might disappoint him. Men tended to think that strippers were always the most wild, the most experienced in bed, but you were still quite shy and inexperienced. At your job you could easily fake confidence to strangers, but actually having sex with someone you cared for wasn’t something you’d done often. The thought made your palms sweat in anticipation as you and Baekhyun finally landed and got back to his car. 

“Where do you want me to take you?” He was making sure you still wanted this, still wanted him. 

“Take me home with you.” 

He only nodded, and pulled out to get the both of you on your way. 

The car ride back was silent. You could feel the tension hanging thick in the air, both of you had your minds on what was coming next. He placed his hand back on your thigh, but this time higher up, slightly pushing up the fabric of your sundress. The action alone was enough to make your breath uneven, and with the deafening silence surrounding you, you knew he noticed. 

By the time he was pulling up to his place, your heart was hammering in your chest and you felt warm all over. 

He stepped out of the car and came to your door to open it for you. When he extended a hand for you to hold as you stepped out your eyes met his. The look on his face was blank; completely unreadable. You wondered if he was feeling just as anxious as you, if he was just hiding it better. You knew with the way you looked up at him in that moment that he could see right through you, that he could see all the tension and desire that had been building within you clearly on your face.

Your thoughts were confirmed when a small smirk formed on his lips and he was soon pulling you through the entry way and into his home. 

His house was beautiful. It wasn’t anything extremely flashy, though it felt comfortable and so much like him. The walls were lined with bookshelves, he had a large leather couch in his living room along with a marble coffee table, and everything was perfectly clean and well kept. It felt elegant and high-class but not in a way that was intimidating, it felt homely. 

As lovely as it was, you were far more focused on the man occupying it now. Once you’d had a chance to take off your shoes and look around for a bit you felt Baekhyun’s hand on yours once again as he pulled you into his chest. He gazed down at you and you could see it in his eyes this time. Both of you had been waiting for this moment, him even longer than you. You saw the want, the lust, and you felt it as well. When you felt his lips finally press against your own, you knew there was no going back. 

The kiss started slow, but you could tell he was holding back. His hands shook slightly as they made contact with your waist to pull you against him tighter, and you felt how his heart was racing when you placed a hand onto his chest. It was you who deepened the kiss, letting it become more and more lust driven as the both of you let yourselves give in to the feeling. His hands started to wander across your body. First they went down to your ass, giving it a squeeze before traveling upwards to grope your chest. 

“Fuck, are you not wearing a bra?” He breathed out between kisses as he felt a nipple harden under his touch. 

“Undress me and find out.” 

Baekhyun didn’t respond, instead you felt his hands on the backs of your thighs, prompting you to jump, so you did, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. 

You were surprised how easily he lifted you up and carried you into his bedroom. The whole time you clung on to him, leaving kisses on his neck as he walked you through the house. 

When you entered his bedroom he sat down on the edge of his bed with you on his lap and continued to kiss you, now moving his way down to your neck. The marks he had left on you before had faded through time, and he missed the sight of them. Something about seeing marks on you, knowing he was the one who left them there, drove him crazy. Although he wasn’t able to go show you off publicly, he was still able to claim you as his own that way. His self control was quickly leaving him as he once again started to suck and bite at the smooth skin, leaving splotches of purple in his wake.

He pulled away and lifted you off his lap making you whine at first, but once you were standing before him between his parted legs his hands found the hem of your dress, and your heart rate picked up even more. He lifted the fabric slowly, and you allowed him to pull it all the way over your head before being discarded on his bedroom floor, leaving you standing in nothing but your lacy underwear. 

Despite the fact that Baekhyun had seen you like this more times than you could count, you felt the need to cover yourself, crossing your arms over your chest. This felt so different from the club. Being naked there just felt natural, normal to you, it was the whole point of your job, and you didn’t care what the men there thought of you. But here and now, with nobody but you and Baekhyun and his eyes running up and down your body intently, you were shaking. 

When he noticed you try and cover yourself, he quickly grabbed your arm and moved it aside. “Am I making you nervous? You don’t have to be so tense, you know how beautiful I think you are.” You felt your cheeks start to tingle as he grabbed you and laid you on his bed before instructing you to lay on your stomach. “Let me help you relax.” 

His expert hands started to work the muscles in your back, and you realized he was right, you had been extremely tense. After a few seconds you let your eyes flutter closed and melted into the feeling of his hands massaging you. Your breathing and heart rate slowed down and you were overwhelmed with bliss as your muscles relaxed under his touches. Your arousal combined with the feeling made you feel high, and you couldn’t help but let out soft moans whenever he would work on a particularly stiff area. 

Baekhyun felt like he was going insane. Your skin felt so soft and smooth beneath his palms as he caressed you, and the sounds you let out made him twitch beneath his shorts. You looked exquisite like this, bare aside from the barely-there lace thong and your backside on full display. He leaned down to kiss your neck, leaving you shuddering at the sensation of his breath on your ear. “Can I touch you?” he whispered, and all you could do was nod, your mind too foggy with lust to form real words. 

His hand made its way down to your ass, touching you so close to where you wanted him, but not quite. “Let me hear you.” 

You took a deep breath, and forced out the words, “Yes, Baekhyun, please.” 

You felt him smile against the skin of your neck as he kept showering it with kisses, and his hand finally moved between your legs to where you needed him most. He made you gasp as he slowly began rubbing your clit through the thin lace of your underwear. “Turn around for me princess.” 

Once you were facing him, and your eyes met, your arousal was amplified even further. He was laying on top of you now between your spread legs, and you felt annoyed at how much he was still wearing. 

The first thing to go was his shirt, as you impatiently fumbled with the buttons before pulling it off of him completely. You knew that he was in pretty good shape but you still weren’t prepared when you finally saw him bare, and you knew that he saw how you stared by the pleased smirk on his face.

Next he moved off of you to remove his pants, leaving him in only his briefs. He soon moved back over you and resumed the motions of his hands between your legs, making you whine. He pulled you into a kiss so heart shattering you could feel yourself shaking with desire as he continued his ministrations. He was smothering you, pressed against you completely but you still wrapped your arms around his back in an effort to bring him even closer. 

His kisses started to make their way down your jaw and towards your neck, and then slowly to your chest. He took one sensitive bud between his lips and your back arched off his mattress and your hands found his soft hair. He used his fingers to tease the other side as well, enjoying the feeling of your hands running through his hair and the soft sounds falling from your lips. 

As much as Baekhyun had been looking forward to this, he still wanted to hear you beg for him, even if that meant having to be patient. Luckily, however, you were just as impatient as he was. 

“I n-need more, please.” You gasped, the sensation of his hand on your pussy and his lips on your breasts edging you on without giving you the relief you craved.

“Say it again for me.” 

“Baekhyun, please.” 

“Mmmh,” he smiled down at you, “good girl.” 

His kisses moved down to your ribcage and stomach, leaving marks on the way until he was hooking his fingers into the waistband or your underwear and dragging them down your legs. He soon positioned himself between your thighs, and you felt hyper aware of his eyes on the last part of you he’d had yet to see. 

Instead of giving you what you wanted, Baekhyun started to kiss your inner thighs, leaving marks there as well, slowly creeping closer and closer to your waiting pussy. The feeling of him sucking and biting on the skin so close to where you wanted him was maddening. You let out another impatient whine, and finally, you felt his lips press against your clit. He was still taking his time, leaving soft kisses at first, but eventually he let his tongue lick a stripe all the way up your folds, making you shudder. You knew you wouldn’t last long with how tightly wound up you already were. When he started to quicken his motions, licking and sucking at your most sensitive spot, you started to crumble. Your hands abandoned his hair, instead opting to grab at the pillow behind you, out of fear that you might yank his hair out otherwise. A lewd moan slipped out from between your lips as your back arched and you started to move your hips against his face, prompting him to push you down to keep you in place. The feeling was overwhelming your senses and the only thoughts left in your mind were of his lips and tongue on you as you chased your high. 

When you felt one of his slender fingers enter you, you knew you were gone. Only a few pumps later you felt the damn break and you moaned his name unabashedly and the pleasure flooded your body. Your vision went white and you felt yourself twitch against him as he kept licking and kissing you through your climax. Eventually he pulled away, and you went limp, closing your eyes and relaxing into the post-orgasmic haze. 

“Don’t fall asleep sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet.”

A few moments later he was on top of you again, kissing you, only this time you could feel his hard member against you separated only by the fabric of his briefs. You reached down to try to pull the fabric away, but he stopped you before you could have any success. “So impatient.” He whispered before taking your hands and lacing them between his own and pinning them to the bed on either side of you as he continued to cover your face and neck with deep heated kisses. 

You couldn’t stop whining and squirming beneath him, trying to get some sort of relief, but Baekhyun wouldn’t do anything until you asked for it. “What do you want baby?” He breathed in your ear and placed more kisses on the sensitive spot on the side of your neck, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine.

“I-I want you.” 

“You want me to what?” 

“I want you to fuck me, p-please.”

Baekhyun ginned and leaned back to admire you, relishing the way you were panting for him, chest heaving up and down, cheeks flushed. “So beautiful.” 

He got up to remove his last remaining piece of clothing before finding his way back between your spread legs. One hand moved downwards and you felt two fingers enter you, testing your readiness. You moaned out at the intrusion, but just as quickly as they entered you his fingers left you as well. “So wet for me.” You heard him mutter.

When you finally felt his tip press against your folds you threw your head back and wrapped your legs around his waist in an effort to pull him further into you, but to no avail. 

“Y/n, look at me.” He said as one of his hands cupped your face and you opened your eyes, immediately meeting his. “You ready?” 

You nodded frantically and felt him position himself. The anticipation was killing you, but finally he brought his face down to yours to press a kiss to your lips as he sunk himself into you. He was larger than you had expected, making you gasp against his lips as he stretched you out. Once his length was fully inside you he waited for a moment to let you adjust, despite the urge to just let go and fuck you senseless. You opened your eyes and saw his squeezed shut, jaw clenched as he held himself back. Baekhyun had wanted this for so long, had waited for months and now that he finally had you underneath and around him, it felt too good to be true. 

When he felt your hips shift to take him even deeper, he took it as a sign to start moving. He pulled out almost completely before sinking himself back into you, starting a slow and steady pace that had you whimpering and clutching at his shoulders, trying to bring him impossibly closer. 

He continued to kiss you as he slowly fucked you, and you couldn’t help but think how sweet and romantic it still felt. As cheesy as it sounds, he wasn’t just fucking you, you felt like he was truly making love to you. You let your body melt into his movements, rolling your body up against his to push him even deeper inside of you with every thrust. 

His lips traveled from yours down to your ear, “So, so, perfect, such a good girl for me.” 

His words sent shockwaves down your spine and through your limbs, exciting you even further as you lost yourself to his expert thrusts. Your mind was blank, unable to form any coherent thoughts aside from how good he was making you feel. Every time he sank back into you you could feel him hit that special spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your toes curling.

You were enjoying his slow, calculated, movements, but the knot in the pit of your stomach was building and you knew you’d need more to be pushed over the edge.  

“F-faster.” You breathed out in desperation. 

Instead of giving you what you wanted Baekhyun stopped his movements completely, leaning up to look you in the eyes. “What was that sweetheart?”

“Faster, Baekhyun please.”

He smirked at your plea, “Since you asked so nicely.” 

He resumed his motions, this time picking up the pace while one hand moved to knead and pinch at the sensitive skin of your breasts. 

Your legs had wrapped themselves tightly around his waist and your hands were gripping onto his back so tightly it would probably leave marks. The sensation was completely overwhelming, and you were reduced to a whining, moaning mess beneath him as you felt your high getting close again. With him drilling in and out of you at a faster pace, and the ministrations of his hands on your chest, you knew the pressure would soon snap. 

“Are you gonna cum for me baby?” He could tell by how tightly you were clenching around him, you were close. 

All you could do was nod and let out a series of lewd noises, and the hand on your chest moved down to your clit. “Let go, let me feel you.” 

A few seconds later you felt the pressure release, waves of euphoria flooding your body sending jolts of electricity through your limbs, making you twitch uncontrollably as he kept thrusting into you. You clamped down on him so tightly you heard him let out a pained grunt as he chased his high as well, losing control as his movements got less consistent. 

“Fuck, no condom.” 

You felt him start to pull out but locked your legs around him before he could do so, “I’m on the pill, please don’t stop.” 

He let out a guttural moan and a few thrusts later he was emptying himself inside you, pressing his lips to yours once again, this time with so much force you felt yourself being pushed further into the mattress. 

Once you had both come down from your highs he all but collapsed on top of you, and you unhooked your legs from his waist. Your arms stayed wrapped around him and the both of you laid there, sweating and panting against one another as you slowly came back to reality.  

“Worth the wait?” He asked breathily.

“Fuck yes.”

He laughed, and you felt his chest vibrating on top of you. “Glad to hear it. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

You shook your head before cupping his face and bringing it down to yours for a kiss. “It was perfect.” 

He smiled back at you with that smile that felt like it could single handedly melt every glacier on earth and then some. Despite the fact that his weight was starting to make it difficult for you to breathe, you still whined when he pushed off the bed and slipped out of you to get the both of you cleaned up. He disappeared into the master bathroom, eventually returning with a wet washcloth to rid you of the sticky mess between your thighs. 

Neither of you bothered putting any clothes on when he returned to bed and pulled you close, resting your head on his chest as the rest of your limbs tangled together under the sheets.  

You lifted your head from his chest, meeting his eyes, “Can I stay the night?” 

“Of course baby, get some rest.” He said and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You laid your head back down, closing your eyes. 

You hummed at the feeling of his hands drawing circles on your bare back, and you dozed off to the sweet feeling and the steady sound of his heartbeat in your ear. 

With Baekhyun, you felt like you had found your own little slice of heaven. This was the definition of bliss. 

A/N: this is my first time writing smut so please be gentle with me, I tried my best 🤧

Next Chapter

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 8

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.4k [a/n]

Thank you so much guys for being patient. I’m feeling so so much better now, but still recovering. 

Updates will still be slow but doing my best. I want to pay attention to my other hobbies again (dance, sing, games, cosplay). 

AO3 link is in the masterlist page.

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist. 

Part 7 || Part 9 || masterlist

He wakes up from the slight trickle of light seeping through his room’s window. Did he not close his curtains before sleeping? He always makes sure they’re closed because he hates waking up to the brightness of the sun. Even the slightest rays of light  cause him to wake up. He sits up and rubs one eye as he tries to make sense of why his curtains are open and why his head feels a bit funny that morning. 

His hand stops moving and his whole body goes stiff when last night’s occurrences flash in his head. There’s not one single moment omitted from his memory.  

He remembers drinking in that foul place because he was so upset that he even bothered going there in the first place. He remembers every little foolish thing he did - the immense amount of flirting from his end, his inability to walk straight, talking to his fucking keys, and getting caught drunk by his brother. 

He looks at the space beside him for a while and groans, regretting everything last night.

The only pleasing memory from last night was when you laid down on his bed… and everything that followed after that. Yet that seems to be the only thing he imagined apart from the rest of what he can remember.

He’s been repressing the urge to kiss you ever since you broke the deal. So much so that  his brain probably conjured up a scene that would satisfy that desire. 

It felt so real though. You were so pliant and inviting. Even now, he can still remember how you whimpered his name and how you arched your body closer towards his touch.

He gently shakes his head.

You probably decided to go home after you changed and he was probably asleep by then, dreaming the whole thing. He reaches for his eyewear case and wears his glasses.  He seats himself at the foot of his bed, gathering his thoughts once more before he stands up.

He hears his door open and doesn’t bother looking up. It’s probably Akiteru. He’s very sure he’ll hear from his brother about him being drunk and brought home by you. He doesn’t have any valid explanation as to why he got himself drunk... so he keeps his head down to avoid his brother’s gaze before the taunts come. 

“Please don’t tell me you have a hangover.”

The voice is definitely not Akiteru’s. He slowly lifts his eyes up to see if it’s truly who he thinks it is.

When he does, his eyes land on your figure leaning back on his door with your arms crossed as you regard him with both worry and chagrin. 

You’re wearing his clothes, like you were in his dream. Was it really a dream though when you’re actually in his room right now wearing the exact same clothes?

No, it wasn’t. It really happened. You slept with him, in the most literal sense, with your hands clasped together. He takes in your appearance again. Without his glasses last night, he didn’t notice how big his clothes actually are on you. He really doesn’t pay much attention to your build. Your personality makes you standout and your presence is bigger than most people he has met.

But as he stares at you now, you seem silly acting all high and mighty when you look like a mouse wearing his clothes. He keeps a straight face despite being amused at your appearance.

Unable to read Tsukishima’s expression, you feel your frustration rising. Is he still dazed? After all the effort you put last night, does he have a hangover? He’s staring at you far too long without saying anything. “I will give you the worst earful you’ll ever get in your life if you have a fucking hangover,” you spit out. You did not suffer last night’s horrors only for him to have a hangover this morning.

“I don’t. I’m only trying to recall everything last night,” he says with his voice back to normal, devoid of the previous evening’s teasing and uncharacteristic flirtatiousness.

You two regard one another carefully, traces of what happened clear in each other’s eyes. Yet, no one dares speak of it. 

You decide to break the ice first as you smile your best at him. “I hope you remember how you talked to your keys,” you say with mirth glazing your tone. 

He squints at you while you maintain your cheery grin. He averts his gaze and answers, “I did no such thing,” even though his demeanor clearly says he fully remembers he did. 

You snort before getting your clothes last night from his desk. You place the bottle of water you grabbed from their kitchen to his desk. “Drink up. You’re still probably thirsty,” you tell him with a tone almost similar to Coach’s when someone from the team is acting up. Then you head to their restroom without saying anything else.

When you finish changing back to your clothes from last night, you check your reflection in the mirror. You look a bit tired but still okay, considering what you’ve been through. At least Tsukishima is no longer a flirting menace and you’re no longer a blushing virgin. 

You dump his dirty clothes in their laundry basket and go back to his room to let him know you’re leaving.

“You will attend this afternoon’s training, right?” you ask just to be sure. He stands up and narrows his eyes at you. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You grin at his response. The Tsukishima you know is back and is as nasty as you remember him to be. “Great to know. Anyways, I’ll leave now. I have classes soon and I still need to go back home to change,” you announce before going for his door.

But before you even touch the door knob, you feel him grip your arm. “Hey,” he says sternly. You turn around to face him, curious about what he has to say that he has to touch you to stop you from leaving. “What?” He answers by dipping down to reach your lips. He plants a chaste kiss on them that it makes your heart tumble from how uncharacteristically tender it is. He pulls back, remaining only centimeters away from your face for a while before he completely withdraws away.

You gape at him dumbfounded, uncertain what to make of what he just did.

“I’m confused,” you admit.

He cocks one brow up but the rest of his features are still unreadable.

“I thought you’d be smart enough to get what it means,” he says before a smirk creeps up on his lips, turning his blank expression to a smug one.

You scoff and look away with disbelief, but you quickly recover as you face him again with a smirk of your own. “You really this snarky in the morning, Tsukishima? You could’ve asked nicely if you wanted to be kiss buddies again,” you taunt him for you know he won’t openly admit it.

“I already did. Last night,” he answers, his eyes and tone no longer sneering.

He did?

‘We already broke that deal, Tsukki.’

‘Then let’s bring it back.’

He did. 

You just didn’t think he actually meant it. You were convinced that it was just an alcohol-induced volatility. 

Your confusion turns to something you can’t fully describe, something exasperating yet delightful at the same time.

You chuckle as you roll your eyes. “Indeed, you did,” you say before stepping out of his room, but for the second time, he stops you from leaving.

“You haven’t given me an answer yet.”

With your back facing him, you smile when you hear his persistence. 

You hastily turn around and latch an arm around his neck, pushing yourself against his body. You tip your toes to reach him and press your lips firmly against his.

Before it even sinks in him, you quickly pull back with your arms slowly dropping on his chest. You give it one tap and quietly say, “There’s your answer.”

You swiftly release yourself from him and third time’s a charm, you successfully get out of his room.

He watches you hurriedly close his door, then sighs when you’re no longer in sight.

“How annoying,” he utters.

Yet there’s the tiniest smile on his lips as he starts getting ready for his day.

—

Even though your secret deal is back, no one speaks of what almost happened that night on his bed. Both of you are aware that it did, but no one dares mention it. 

The secret kisses you share are also back to how it was - passionate but still harmless, nothing like the sensual one you had when he got drunk.

There’s also been no repeat of the hugging disaster you did at the Sendai gymnasium. Things are back to how it’s supposed to be. 

Yet you can’t shake off the feeling that something changed. 

Whatever. Maybe you’re just overthinking it because the project is ending soon. When it does, your little secret will cease to exist and you’ll become nothing more than his manager. Things will be back to how it was before the unfortunate pairing your professor did.

Was it really that unfortunate though? You stare at nothing for a while then take a deep breath to brush off your unnecessary thoughts.

You should be focused on the upcoming game, not on what happens with you and Tsukishima behind closed doors. You better go down to the benches with them than staring at the court when there’s not even a game taking place. 

“Fancy seeing you again, Miss Manager.”

You turn your head to the side to see who’ll be this match’s receiver of your rejectorama streak. You’re a bit surprised when it’s not someone in their jersey, but someone in a business suit regarding you with a professional smile. You know this guy. You’ve met him somewhere for sure. 

Ah, yes. He’s that guy talking with Bokuto when Tsukishima introduced you. 

You return the guy’s smile as you tilt your whole body to face him. “Sir Promoter,” you acknowledge quaintly. “How may I be of any help to you today?” 

“I was wondering if you can tell me more about the Frogs this year,” he says kindly, all too kindly for your taste. You’d brush him off but you might just be reading into it too much. He might be actually only doing his job.

“I’d love to, but we have a game. Maybe another time, Sir Promoter,” you maintain your goody two shoes act to mirror his nice guy demeanor.

“How about tonight then?” 

There it is - the slight tug of his lips and the hint of mischievousness that quickly flashed by his eyes. It was there only briefly but you saw it. He accidentally bared the fangs he’s hiding.

You take a step closer to him and give him a calculated smirk. Something tells you that you can’t pull the same antics you use to drive others away with this guy. You remember how he was studying you when you met the first time. You know he was into you or liked how you look at least.

As quick as he is to slip to his playful demeanor, he’s just as fast to be back to being well-mannered and polished, which you’re not totally sold on.

He’s playing a different game from others who have tried to ask you out. So you decide to change it up a bit and be upfront with him rather than creep him out with your weirdness.

“Are you asking me on a date, Sir Promoter?” you ask with unbridled mischievousness designed to throw him off.

Your plan works as you see him catch off his guard a bit with your direct question. However, he instantly recovers with his civil smile back on his face. 

“Me? Sorry to disappoint but it’s purely for work.” 

Your brow shoots up at his response. 

“It won’t be a date or anything,” he says with the same nice guy facade right before he tears it down as he smirks and leans down to whisper in your ear. 

 “Unless you want it to be.”

A smirk shows itself from your lips before you can suppress it. You have to admit. This guy is good. He knows that part of your job is to provide the information he needs from the team. He’s using that to his benefit and make it seem this invite is completely for professional purposes.

You might have believed it and might have been completely fooled if you haven’t met him yet before.

You laugh a bit as you internally admit your defeat.

“After the match then, Sir Promoter.”

He pulls away and stands straight back up with a grin. “It’s Kuroo, in case you forgot,” he reintroduces himself. “I didn’t.” You wink then pass by him without saying.

Kuroo chuckles to himself when you leave. He doesn’t mix business with pleasure. He really needs to get the updated profile of the Frogs for their database. He also needs to know which players he can include for their collaboration with Molten.

He planned to keep things professional and tried to keep his business pants on. But he failed to keep it for long when you easily noticed how attracted he is to you.

He shakes his head with a smile then heads to the benches where he’ll watch the game himself.

—

You clap your hands merrily after you tally the last winning point made by Kyoutani. Two  more games and your team will be up against a team from Division 1.

The Frogs have only been successful in achieving a game with Division 2 in your first year as a manager. After that it’s been mostly at the top 3 or 4.

This year, you’re confident that you’ll advance again among other Division 2 teams. 

When the team disperses for some down time after the match, you approach Coach Mira. “Hi Coach, I won’t be on the bus going back. The VBA promoter wants to ask me stuff about the team. I’ll gather everyone when it’s time to leave then meet the guy. Is there anything else you need me to do, Coach?”

She looks at you and smiles gratefully. “Nothing else, y/n. Thanks for your hard work as always.”

You smile back appreciatively before you turn around to get back on your tally sheet. You need to review the statistics of each member who played in the games.

“Hey,” you hear Tsukishima’s voice behind you before you grab your notebook.

“Hmm?” you respond quizzically, wondering what he might want from you after a game. “You’re meeting Kuroo later?” he asks with his usual empty tone and expression.

“Yeah. You know him?” 

You know that Tsukishima knows Bokuto, but you’re not sure if he knows the promoter Bokuto was with at the time. The Kuroo person might have just been there. Tsukishima nods. “He…,” he trails off, sounding unsure of what he’s going to say next. 

“He what?” you ask as you get your tally sheet from the bench.

“I trained with him too, along with Bokuto. He taught me how to block.” You put down the tally sheet and gape at him. “Really? That guy is your mentor?” 

You supposed that Kuroo has the build. He’s tall and even with his suit on, you can tell that he has some muscles going on underneath it. Now that you think about it, he’s actually kinda good looking. It’s just that a lot of athletes are buff, tall, and good-looking too that you’re desensitized to it now. 

“Yeah,” he responds. “I see. He’s asking me about the Frogs, something for his job I guess. I’ll meet with him right after I make sure all you guys are on the bus on the way back.”

You expect him to walk away and go to the restroom like he always does after a game, but he just stands in front of you saying nothing. “What?”

“You should ask to reschedule. It’s already late.”

You look at your phone to check the time and it really is late than the usual time the games end. The slot the team got was the last match for the day and the earlier games were delayed so the team finished at already 9.30 pm. “It’s fine. I don’t think it will take long anyways.”

He takes a few seconds before he answers. “Right,” then he walks away. You finish summarizing your tally sheet then gather the members of the frogs. You make sure everyone is on the bus before you take your leave and go back inside the gymnasium where you agreed to meet Kuroo.

You see him against the railing where you were watching from earlier. His elbows are leaning on the banister with his hands on his pockets as he grins at you who’s walking towards him.

“Shall we commence this professional get-together?”

“Yes, we shall. Would you prefer going somewhere else?” he smiles as he asks.

“I’m all set here if it’s purely Frogs’ information you’re after,” you answer craftily, attempting to make him admit that there’s another kind of business he’s going for. 

“Here it is then,” he responds with a grin, resolute in his stance that he’s not going to ask you out tonight. He clears his throat and stands up straight, his deviousness gone as he starts asking questions.

Damn, you were mistaken about this guy. He was just toying around with you earlier but really had no plans to ask you out. He must be like you who just likes to mess with people every once in a while. You probably came off cocky to him this morning.

More than being embarrassed, you’re amused. He’s actually interesting. 

“That’s that, y/n. Thanks for your cooperation on this one,” he says politely. 

“No worries. It’s part of my job.”

“Do you have a card so I can get back to you if I need anything again?” 

You get your cardholder from the pockets of your pants, but you don’t feel anything even as you reach even the deepest parts of them. You check the pockets of your jacket as well but it’s not there either.

You most likely left it at home.

“Uhhh. I don’t have it with me right now. You can just take my number,” you suggest.

He raises one brow quaintly but brushes it off immediately as he hands you his phone. You take his phone and as you’re about to enter your contact details, you suddenly feel uncanny with giving him your number this way.

You look at him and ask. “It’s the same thing, right?”

He frowns. “What is?”

“Putting my number like this on your phone and giving you my business card,” you answer.

He chuckles lowly and glances at you with a very amused grin. “For you sake, I’d say yes, they’re the same.”

You enter your contact number and hand it to him with a smile. When he gets it, he raises his brow and looks back at you. “Manager of Sendai Kermits?”

You nod. “That way we keep it professional.”

His grin spreads wider as he pockets his phone. No one would put that kind of name in their contact details and genuinely think it’s professional. 

“I have to be honest, y/n. You’re making it really hard for me to keep it strictly that way.”

You feign innocence as you put a gentle hand on your chest. “Me? But I’m not doing anything.”

Right, and Volleyball is a sport played by monkeys in pink dresses. “Sure,” he agrees and lets it go before he does something out of line like asking you to have late dinner with him since the game ended late already. “We done?” you ask.

“Yeah. Sorry, I took longer than I expected,” he apologizes. At times, he’d get drawn in with how you speak and how entertaining you look while doing so that he got distracted. “How are you going to get home by the way? It’s late already.” If you’d ask him, he can take you home. Though he highly doubts you’d ask that of someone who’s practically a stranger. 

“I think I can still catch the bus,” you casually respond. 

“I can walk you to the bus stop if you don’t mind,” he discreetly offers, making sure that you’re comfortable with the idea. 

“Hmm,” you ponder. Unlike the girls who he has gone out with, he can tell you’re not playing hard to get by delaying your answer. You’re really deciding on whether you’d let him extend what little time more there is to enjoy your company.

You grin at him genuinely, none of your pretentious facade whatsoever. “Alright!” you stand up and don't wait for him as you start walking already. 

He shakes his head then easily catches up and walks beside you.

“How long have you been a manager?” It wasn’t a question to start a small talk. He’s seriously curious how long you have been doing this. He only got the promotion recently so he does not know most people aside from his friends and acquaintances from his Volleyball time in high school. Previously, he only had to work at the office. He’s establishing his own connections only now.

“Three years and counting,” you respond with your eyes straight ahead. 

You’re a year ahead of him in this industry then. He got his job at the VBA two years ago. “Three years, huh? Isn’t that when Tsukishima joined the team as well?”

“You’re really that close with him, huh?” You remark with intrigue as you two continue walking towards the exit.

“Taught the boy everything he knows about blocking,” he comments with a grin even though you’re not looking. 

Your rich laughter fills the empty hallway as you finally glance his way. “Why do you sound like a 40-year old man?”

“What can I say? I’m full of wisdom,” he counters immediately, causing you to raise an eyebrow to go with your amused smile.

“Forgive me, Mr. Promoter, but I have to say you're full of shit.”

He cackles uninhibitedly from your sharp-witted retort. He knows you have one hell of a personality based on the little interaction you had when he first met you, but you’re proving yourself to be a whole lot more than what he anticipated. 

“Am I that easy to read?” He asks with traces of his laughter still in his voice. You scrunch your nose quickly before smiling prettily at him. “I’m afraid so.”

As you two are about to reach the exit, he decides to just go for it. You’re getting more interesting and more interesting as he talks with you and there’s not really a rule that he’s not allowed to date people from the professional teams. 

Since the meeting is done, this right now is technically not part of his job anymore. He’s doing it to spend more time with you. 

“Actually, y/n. I have my car parked outside. If you don’t mind, I can drive you home instead,” he offers more at ease this time. 

He seems like a legitimately good person who can grasp your sense of humor and hold a fun conversation. Most importantly, you somehow feel comfortable around him. Besides, it would be nice if you don’t have to take the bus or hail a cab to go home. 

So you don’t take too long to decide. “Su-”

“Hey.” Someone cuts you off as you reach the outside of the Sendai Gymnasium. You look at your left where the familiar voice came from and see your favorite middle blocker. He’s still wearing the Sendai Frogs’ jacket, but now has pants on instead of their official shorts.

“Hey,” you respond with a puzzled look as to why he’s still there when you clearly remember he was seated at the back of the bus before you stepped out of it. 

“Tsukishima,” Kuroo acknowledges his presence cordially with a grin. 

Tsukki bows a bit to the promoter with an impassive expression, then looks at you again but doesn’t really say anything..

“What are you doing here?” you ask since he doesn’t look like he’s going to explain on his own. 

He doesn’t answer and remains silent with his eyes glued on you. Your brows furrow a bit as you ask again. “I said what are you-”

“Coach asked me to wait for you.”

You blink at him several times while holding his gaze. You look down for one quick second then turn to Kuroo with a huge, dumb smile on your face. “I’d have to pass tonight, Kuroo. Coach might worry if I don’t go with him,” you point to Tsukishima as you say it. 

Kuroo notices how you smile differently, more earnestly, with Tsukishima’s presence. He turns his attention to Tsukishima whose eyes are still on you despite the blank expression on the blonde’s face. 

Tsukishima said he’s there because their Coach said so but Kuroo doesn’t buy it one bit. He can’t imagine Tsukishima willingly abiding the Coach’s orders to play nanny for you. Unless Tsukishima himself wants to do so. 

Kuroo knows that you and Tsukishima are not dating. If you were, you wouldn’t be so surprised that he’s here waiting for you. But that gives Kuroo confirmation that something is going on with you two. 

He looks back at you and returns the smile. “No worries. Maybe next time?” He asks casually albeit the meaning behind that laid-back question. 

“Maybe,” you giggle softly as you answer. “I’ll see you around, Kuroo.” You give him a brief wave then head to Tsukishima’s side. The blonde, on the other hand, gives him a quick nod and bids him, “Good evening, Kuroo-san.” 

You turn to him as well, “Good night!” Then pour your whole attention to the other guy beside you as you two walk away from him. 

He remains where he is and watches your animated expression from afar. He really likes you. It’s too bad you like someone else though. 

When you two are out of his sight, he walks to where he parked his car. 

--

“So, Tsukki,” you grin at him. “Coach really is that concerned about me that she asked you to.. wait for me?” you ask with your tone dripping with amusement because you know that Coach will never ask that of someone, especially him. Coach Mira thinks he despises you and even if he doesn’t, she still wouldn’t. Coach Mira knows you can take care of yourself. 

“Shut up,” he says lowly, but nothing more. You’re expecting a snide response but it doesn’t come. 

“As thanks for last time, I’ll take you to your dorm,” he says with his eyes straight ahead.

You keep your gaze on him for a few more seconds then turn to the same direction he’s looking at. He never did thank you for it, but it’s not like you were expecting him to. You helped him get home out of concern both as his manager and his partner in class. 

You didn’t expect that he’d still be thinking about it even after a week. Although, it makes sense that he does. Obviously, he’s never been in that state wherein he needed help getting home. He probably feels like he’s indebted or something. 

Tsukishima glances briefly at how you’re still smiling even when you’re not talking. Earlier, he was battling himself on why he got off the bus and chose to wait for you. Sure, it’s pretty late, but it’s not like you can’t go home on your own. If he’d be honest, until now, he still doesn’t know why he chose to get left behind and stand outside for who knows how long. 

But seeing you as you are now, he knows he made the right decision to stay.

---

The timetable you planned for you and Tsukishima has long been messed up. You were supposed to finish this project a month ago. But a lot of things happened during your private meetings that you lost track of how you’re progressing along. 

It isn’t only until that afternoon where you receive the last write up you need from Tsukishima for the project that you’re made aware that today is your last day together. 

After you get the notification in your email, he glanced your way. 

“What else do you need?” he asks.

You try to think of what else he can contribute, but you come up with nothing. Everything is set. You’re just restructuring your output as a whole so it’s coherent. 

“Um. Nothing. We’re all good now,” you announce blandly instead of rejoicing that it will finally be over today. 

You look at Tsukishima and find him looking at your screen. “Let me look at it,” he says to verify if it is as good as you say it is. 

You slide a bit to your right so he can check the document himself. He skids in front of your laptop and scans the draft of the document you put up, checking for any possible room for improvement. 

But you really are exceptional in organizing reports. It’s as cohesive as it can be, which ultimately is good news for you and for him. The project will be done by tonight. “It is all good now,” he confirms. 

When he glances back at you, you two share the same look - dismal. He knows that the project will end, even the semester is coming to a close soon. But he did not anticipate that your last meeting is today. 

“Alright,” you break the uneasy air as you swat your hand to shoo him away. “Let me work this through so we can completely finish it.” 

He’s not certain whether you’re asking him to leave already since he’s done his part or you’re just making him go back to his own laptop. Not wanting to embarrass himself, he asks, “Should I pack up and leave now?”

You narrow your eyes with displeasure. “Of course not. You’ll stay here until I finish the damn thing, Tsukishima. Don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

He doesn’t complain and remains impassive as you watch him return to his seat. He fights off the grin that was threatening to surface on his lips while he starts doing his requirements for another class.

When you see him comply, you return your attention to wrapping up the project. The truth is you can send him home already. You don’t need his presence to finish the report. You just want to keep him longer, one or two more hours will do. 

Then you longer have any reason to meet with him outside training hours. You’ll finally stop your private meetings along with your clandestine kisses. 

You’ll be back to being solely his manager.

Even though you still have a lot of things to do for another subject, you take your sweet time with what you’re doing. You start typing like an old man whose reading glasses no longer work. Then after you’re done, you conduct a spell check which you normally don’t do because you correct typos as you go along, not after the output is done. 

After an hour of dilly dallying around trying to clean the already clean word file, you reckon it’s time to let it go. 

You look at Tsukishima and softly call his name, “Tsukki.”

He stops typing and faces you. “Done?”

You nod with a faint smile. “Yeah, we’re done.” Done with the project and done with whatever you two had. 

“I already sent it to our professor as well,” you add. 

“I see.” He packs up quietly then stands up to leave. You stand up as well and open the door for him. You stopped opening the door for him when he leaves, but since this is the last, you thought it was fitting that you send him out. 

“Tsukishima.”

He pauses as you say his name, turning his head to face you and waits for what you’re going to say. You don’t really have anything to say though. You just stare at him. And he stares right back, his gaze studying your face carefully until it lands on your mouth. That’s when you figure out why you stopped him from leaving. 

You want a last kiss. 

When you started your agreement, you’ve never been afraid or shy to go for a kiss. Only now. 

“What is it, y/n?” he asks calmly even though his eyes are on your lips. You know he wants the same despite the apathetic demeanor. If not, he wouldn’t be looking at you as he is right now. 

Yet you don’t want to initiate. 

Obviously, neither does he.

It’s kind of stupid. After the countless kisses, none of you moves to instigate the last one. 

You don’t know how long you stare into each other, but since this seems to be going nowhere, you decided to just leave it as is. 

“Good night. I’ll see you in training,” you say instead. 

He seems to have recovered from his own daze as well when he responds with a dry, “Right,” before stepping out of your room.

You close the door behind him with a certain gloom you can’t make sense of. Months ago, you two wanted nothing more than to finish this project. Now that you’re finally free of each other, you feel... sad?

Ridiculous. 

You shake it off and get back to what you’re supposed to be doing. You and Tsukishima had good teamwork. Although he has some rude comments here and there, they usually have no bite to them. Other than that, he was easy to work and hang around with. The liplocking was just a fun perk. Nothing more, nothing less. 

--

You enter the gym and find that not much of the team is there yet. It’s Kogane, Tsukishima, Eiji, and Coach who’s only there.

You put your bag in one of the benches and get your report on the previous match of the team. You walk towards Coach Mira and hand it to her. “Thanks, y/n,” she says with a pleasant smile she doesn’t show to anyone else from the team. “Can you set up the other net?” She asks while going over the report you gave her.

“Yes, Coach,” you answer agreeably then head to the other side of the court. You pull up a stool chair and stand on it as you tie the net to the pole.

“Y/n.”

You’re startled by Tsukishima’s voice behind you that the chair along with your ankles shake when you flinch. You try to grab the pole to steady yourself but you can’t reach it anymore. 

“Shit!” You curse beneath your breath and just accept you’ll flat on your butt. But instead of falling, you feel a pair of huge hands on your waist that thwarts your ass kissing the floor. 

“What are you doing?” You hear Tsukishima ask impertinently as he gently eases you back on the chair. “Do you need help getting down?” he follows up with his hands still on your waist. 

You turn around carefully and place your hands on his shoulders to support yourself as you jump down on your own. You grin at him which is probably why he takes his hands off you. You turn around to tighten the bottom part of the net. 

“Did you need something?” You ask as you continue tying the knot. You finish what you’re supposed to do and he still hasn’t answered so you face him again. 

“What’s up, Tsukki?” You’re a bit confused why he’s silent when he’s the one who came up to you. 

“Can you tape my fingers?” 

The situation reverses and now, you’re the one who’s not responding. Three years as their manager and he’s never asked for help taping his finger. 

“Uhh. Sure. Do you have your bandage with you?”

He gets it from the right pocket of his jacket and gives it to you. You get it and take his right hand to tape it first. Even though this is the first time he’s asked you to do it, you’ve done it before with Coach’s orders. Every single time you do, he has a disgruntled look on his face as he does his best for his eyes not to land on any part of your face. 

But now, you can feel him staring at you while you work on his fingers.

“Something on my face, Tsukishima?” You ask teasingly. 

“Yeah. You still have coffee on your chin,” he answers seriously. 

You stop abruptly and shove the bandage on his palm to hastily wipe your chin. “Is it still there?” You look up to him as you ask.

He presses his lips together before he looks to the side. However, you catch the sligh tug in the corner of his mouth prior to turning away. 

“What? Did I not get it?” You ask a bit worriedly as you try to remember the people you greeted on your way here. You beamed cheerfully at them and all this time, you had a smidge of coffee on your chin.

 His shoulders start shaking and you can hear his suppressed laughter as he’s turned away from you. 

You narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms. “You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

He returns his gaze at you with an entertained smirk. “If you stopped drinking coffee like it’s water then maybe you wouldn’t fall for such a simple ploy.”

You give him a sarcastic smile as you yank his hand to continue taping him. “Real mature, Tsukishima,” you remark dryly.

“You’re one to talk,” he instantly counters. 

You snort and shake your head amusedly. In the past, you’d think it’s an insult, but at present, you can tell that it’s just benign banter.

While you tape his hands, there’s comfortable silence between you two that you only feel when you’re seated beside each other when you’re doing the project. You didn’t expect you’d feel it again even when you’re in the gym with other people around.

You’re almost done with his left hand when you hear Coach Mira call you. “Coming, Coach!” you yell from where you are and finish the tape on his middle finger. 

“And it’s done,” you grin briefly at him then turn to where Coach is.

Before you go, you hear him utter a low, “Thanks.”

A faint smile forms on your face as you saunter back to Coach. When you reach her, she frowns a bit at you. 

Your smile disappears, thinking that you made some error that Coach caught after you submitted it to her. “What’s wrong, Coach? Is something off with the report?” You ask a bit troubled. 

“No. It’s perfect as usual,” she remarks commendably. 

You ease up knowing that your write up is still quintessential. “What else can I do to help?” Since there’s nothing wrong with the report, she must need help for another task. 

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you’re dating Tsukishima.”

Now you wish there’s something wrong with the file you submitted instead. You’d prefer that than having Coach suspect there’s something like that between you and Tsukishima. 

Nothing’s going on with you two except for the project you had together. Usually, you don’t give a shit what other people think of you. But not Coach.  You don’t feel comfortable that she is dubious of your relationship with the blonde middle blocker. 

“What made you ask, Coach?” you ask, wondering where she got the idea.

“You two seem more.. I don’t know,” she struggles for the next words while you wait anxiously for it. “more at ease with each other now,” she continues.

You feign a laugh and respond casually. “I’m just messing with him as usual,” you lie because it’s the other way around. 

Coach glances back at Tsukishima then at you. “He looks like he’s enjoying it this time though. He’s even staring at you when I called you here.”

You turn your head his way and see him practicing his serve already. You face Coach again and smile bemusedly. “I wonder why.” You really have no idea why he was staring. 

Coach studies your face for a few seconds then shrugs. “Alright. I’ll let you get back to work instead of being a nosy middle-aged woman,” she smiles at you then returns to the report you gave her.

You nod politely then turn around to go to the stockroom. When you’re almost there, you glance discreetly to Tsukishima and reflect on Coach Mira’s suspicion.

Does it really seem like you have that relationship with him?

--

You thought of doing your uni requirements in the library today for a new work setting. As you’re approaching the entrance of the library, you open your bag to get your ID. 

Several minutes of rummaging your bag and you still can’t find it. 

Shit! Did you lose it?

The last time you actually saw it when you used it to enter the bar. Did you drop it from your pocket? But you put it in your back pocket so you won’t accidentally lose it when you get your phone.

You close your bag and try to remember the whole night. Who were the people you talked to? 

A lot. You talked to a lot of people but you really had no reason to take your ID out. 

You can only think of two possible ways you lost it. First was in the cab with Tsukishima. You shifted too much on your seat that it may have slid out of your back pocket. Second would be in their restroom where you changed clothes. 

You get your phone and text Tsukishima. 

‘Tsukki! By any chance, did I leave my id there or sumthin? >_<’

Tsukishima hears his message tone as he descends their stairs. He waits until he reaches their couch and then opens his phone to read the message. 

ID? Did you lose it?

Even if you did, you shouldn’t be too worried since it’s almost graduation. You won’t need it anymore. 

He types in his reply. 

‘Why bother finding it? You won’t need it soon.’

“Kei.” 

He lifts his gaze from his phone before sending it when he hears his brother’s voice. “What is it?” he asks. 

Akiteru sits on the other couch adjacent to the one he’s sitting on. “Any plans after graduation?”

He’d feel pressured and irritated from the question if it was asked by someone else. “I have an interview at the Sendai Museum next week,” he answers blankly despite feeling a bit certain of applying for the post. 

“I didn’t know you were already looking for a job. That’s great though!” Akiteru comments brightly.

“Yeah,” he answers lowly then looks down on his phone again. “Alright, then. I was just curious.” His brother smiles caringly then stands up. 

“Nii-san,” he calls before Akiteru leaves the room. 

“Yes?” His brother looks at him still smiling.

“Did you see an ID that’s not mine around?” he asks ambiguously because he doesn’t want to mention your name on the high chance that Akiteru hadn’t seen it. His older brother has bugged him about it non-stop after you took him home last week. He doesn’t want to remind Akiteru about it unnecessarily.  

“Silly me! I forgot to tell you. The other day, mom saw y/n’s university ID in the washing machine when she was hanging clothes. She gave it to me because you were still not home then. I’ll give it to you in your room later,” Akiteru grins widely then waves at him before heading up the stairs.

He’s relieved that he heard no more than that. He was honestly expecting more teasing, but fortunately, his brother seems to have toned it down now.

He gets to his phone again and types instead. 

‘Yeah. It’s here.’

Not more than a minute later, he receives your response already. 

‘Can u bring it in class or training? :D’

He easily types ‘Okay’ since it’s just a small favor. Then when he’s about to send it, his thumb hovers above the send button. 

He deletes it and sends a different reply.

‘No.’

You frown when you read his response. You thought he’s somehow warmed up at you already but seems like he’s back to being a salty ass. It’s just an ID. It weighs like nothing and can fit in his pocket. What’s the deal?

You’re drafting your reply when he sends another text message.

You quickly tap the notification that briefly flashed on top of your screen and raise your brows when you completely read it. 

‘Get it yourself. It’s in my room.’

After a few seconds, you shake your head and chuckle at what he meant with his superficially rude message. 

Tsukishima, you smooth tsundere bastard.

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[dhwty-writes]

hi! I have a prompt, if you like: what if Geralt hangs up mistletoe to get Jaskier to kiss him? :)

ELLIE, what a galaxy brained concept! It’s so silly and the gay panic is rampant in this one, my friends. The Kaer Morons being a bumbling pack of idiots and Geralt ridiculously pining after Jaskier? Coming right up!

Summary: Geralt is in love with Jaskier. In order to finally get him to admit his feelings, he devises a ten step plan with Lambert, Eskel and Vesemir. 

Warnings: NONE, this is tooth-rotting fluff

Read on AO3

There was a conspiracy of the highest order brewing in the Continent involving no less than four witchers, their horses, a goat, and an unsuspecting bard. It is known under many names, including, but not limited to, Operation Home Sweet Home, Gods Save us from your Fucking Pining, and Get Vesemir's Blessing (and Mission Let's Get Geralt Laid, but that was from Lambert and therefore stupid).

They had laid out the Conspiracy in a set of carefully calculated steps last winter with the help of Vesemir's Wise Words and truly copious amounts of alcohol. Once he saw the whole list sober, Geralt had nearly chucked it into the fireplace out of mortification. Good thing Eskel and Lambert had been nearby to wrestle the slip of paper out of his hands.

Only after the creation of at least half a dozen copies was he trusted with it again. He frowned down at the sheet. It was simple, really. A simple ten-step-plan. He could do that.

Step One: Stop fucking staring out of windows and sighing longingly. (Shut up, Lambert.) Get back on the Path and find Jaskier.

Now, at least that was easy enough. Not for the first time since their acquaintance they had agreed upon a meeting place to come find each other as soon as the snows would allow it. Most of the years Geralt would arrive a little late; because even if they chose a spot closer to Kaer Morhen than Oxenfurt, the Killer was usually impassable for a long time.

A few years they had been lucky and could set out relatively early in spring. Geralt hadn't felt lucky at all, sitting in a lonely tavern corner day in, day out, waiting for a familiar bright-coloured bard to fill his life with light again. He had felt terrified, most of all.

So, this year when he set out to the Path, an already crumpled list clutched tightly in his hand, he was even more on edge than normally. He didn't think he could take Step One failing already, and the mortifying possibility of Jaskier lying dead in a ditch. He might just climb up that mountain again and never come back down.

Luckily, Geralt — and Vesemir — were saved from that miserable fate. When Geralt threw open the tavern door in some backwater Kaedwen town, Jaskier was there already. He was peacocking around in his usual manner, enticing his sparse audience with his captivating presence. When his eyes fell on Geralt, though, his three half-drunk spectators were soon forgotten.

The bard gasped and slung his lute onto his back, vaulting off the stage to come rushing over to him. "You're here!" Geralt stood ready, his arms spread wide to catch Jaskier when he flung himself at him in an overenthusiastic hug. "I missed you." Jaskier slung his legs around Geralt's hips and buried his face against his shoulder, clinging to him as if for dear life. 

Geralt held him tight, deeply inhaling the familiar scent, a mix of honey, grapes, and cinnamon. He was used to this by now. He didn't mind. Truth be told, he craved it.

"Hmm," he answered, acutely aware of the stares they were attracting. Geralt decided he didn't care. "I... missed you, too."

"You did?" Jaskier pulled back and beamed at him. Just a week ago he had thought he would kill to see that smile again as soon as possible.

"Hmm," he agreed. Now he knew he knew he would die for it.

Jaskier wriggled in his grasp as a sign he wanted to be put down again. "You certainly know how to sweep a man off his feet, darling," he announced with a cheerful wink. "I don't think you've ever told me you so much as enjoyed my company before, let alone miss it."

"Hmm." Hadn't he? He could've sworn he had.

"None of that, now, let me just grab my bag and we can be on our merry way." Without another word, Jaskier rushed up the stairs in the back of the tavern.

Geralt stood uncomfortably in the door, waiting for him to return and doing his best not to attract too much attention. 'Hurry up, Jaskier,' he thought impatiently.

"Oi!" the bartender shouted. "Yer the witcher? The one of the songs?"

"I am."

The man nodded and threw something at him, humming a very distinct tune. It was a ducat. Geralt pocketed it with a sigh. He hadn't missed that.

He didn't have to wait long before Jaskier came barrelling back down the stairs, a much too large bag Roach would have to carry again in tow. "Well," the bard straightened his crumpled doublet, which, for some reason, now gaped open and showed off the pristine shirt underneath. Geralt tried not to stare, "where are we off to?"

"Toussaint," he answered, holding the tavern door open for him.

"Toussaint!" Jaskier exclaimed excitedly. "I love Toussaint."

"Hmm," Geralt said. 'I know,' Geralt thought, 'that's why we're going.'

With their reunion out of the way, it was time to proceed with the plan:

Step Two: Travel with Jaskier. Be nice to him (no fillingless pies!)! Compliment him! Laugh at his jokes!

That part was significantly more difficult than the first. Not that he lacked compliments for Jaskier, quite on the contrary. They, however, posed not one, but two difficulties.

The first was one of his own making: voicing his thoughts with actual words. In the privacy of his mind he had a myriad of compliments. 'You're beautiful,' passed through his head when he saw Jaskier bathed in the golden light of sunset. 'You smell nice,' after a day at the coast, salt encrusting Jaskier's hair. 'You make me smile', 'You make the loneliness go away', 'You're the best bard I could wish for.' None of them were quite eager to leave his mouth.

When they finally did, it was awkward. They didn't sound at all how he imagined them. "What are you looking at?" Jaskier asked.

"Something on your face," he answered. 'Yeah,' he thought dumbly, 'sunlight.'

Or: "Geralt, are you sniffing me?"

"You smell." He still cursed himself months later for omitting the simple word 'nice'.

After a while he got better at it. He could manage an "I like your voice" without stumbling over it, or a "Your outfit looks nice and smooth." It wasn't an "I love listening to you sing and say my name; you make it sound like something that is worthy of affection" or an "I love that you wear silk as soft as your skin and could spend days caressing it without growing tired of it" yet, but he was getting there.

What came then, once he was able to say a simple nice sentence to his bard, was somehow even worse. Jaskier was clumsy, that was nothing new, but this season it was on a whole different level. Whenever Geralt so much asked him about the song he was working on, the bard stumbled over his own feet; with every smile or laugh he nearly dropped his precious lute.

But nothing beat that time they happened upon a particularly clear and blue lake and Geralt had leaned over to tell Jaskier: "I like it. It reminds me of your eyes. Just as pretty." The poet had nearly plummeted right into it, which would have been very unfortunate indeed, since he hadn't convinced the nymph living in it to migrate yet.

In the end, Jaskier's utter lack of equilibrium sense led to Geralt offering him to ride on Roach. That was much better. Sometimes they rode double, too. He liked those days especially, when he had an excuse to hold his bard close. The days when Jaskier would sigh and lean back into his touch he liked most of them all.

Slowly, they settled into a familiar rhythm. It was awkward at first, but soon they became used to the change of their relationship. And it wasn't as if everything changed. They still bickered and insulted each other, and laughed and told stories. It was just right; Geralt almost didn't notice how summer came to an end.

But it did, and when the first leaves started coasting to the ground it was time for the next step.

Step Three: Ask him where he will spend the next winter.

It was probably the most mortifying thing he had to say to Jaskier yet. They were sat at a campfire one early autumn evening, Geralt trying to look busy cleaning his sword and Jaskier preoccupied with his lute. Once he finally worked up the courage to ask, he stumbled over his words like a school boy; he even blushed, for fuck's sake! It was embarrassing.

Luckily, Jaskier didn't seem to notice, too busy tuning his lute. "Why, in Oxenfurt, of course. Why do you ask, Geralt?" he answered nonchalantly as if Geralt wasn't just leading the most daunting conversation of his entire life.

'Fucking great,' he thought. Now it was time for Step Three.5: Ask Jaskier to come home with you, you fucking idiot.

"Hm," he said.

Jaskier laughed. "Talkative as always I see." He smiled at him brightly and turned back to his lute. "Alright then. Keep your secrets."

"Hmm." This wasn't getting any easier. "Jaskier."

"Yes, dear?"

His heart fluttered with the pet name, so much that Geralt nearly bit his tongue off in the process of trying to voice his question: "Would you like to stay with me?"

The lute gave a dissonant twang that made both of them wince. "Excuse me, what?" Jaskier stammered, his voice much higher than normally.

"Hmm. I just thought..." He frowned. 'Shit.' He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. This had been doomed from the beginning. "Forget it, it's stupid."

"No, no, not at all!" Jaskier scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Geralt's side. "Where would we be staying? I suppose you could come to Oxenfurt with me, but it could get a bit crammed and-"

"Kaer Morhen," Geralt stated simply.

"Kaer Mo- oh!" His eyes lit up. "Why, yes, Geralt, I would love to stay with you."

And that was the end of that. They didn't talk about it anymore the whole evening as Geralt did his damnedest to forget the conversation had ever happened. But when he laid awake in the night, Jaskier huddled close to him — it was getting rather cold, after all — he couldn't stop his mind from whirling, excitement mixing with immobilising terror. Jaskier would come to Kaer Morhen with him. They would stay together the whole winter. And Jaskier would meet his family.

With a sigh he turned over, cautiously throwing an arm over Jaskier's waist and holding him like the precious thing he was. The smile that spread on Geralt's face when his bard snuggled even closer, outshone the morning sun creeping over the horizon.

The following days and weeks, Jaskier was buzzing with the same excited energy that Geralt held within. It cost him every ounce of self-control not to turn Roach around and head for Kaer Morhen right away. But it was still early in the autumn, at least a moon's turn before it was time to go home, so they busied themselves with taking contracts and performing for sub-par audiences.

It was alright. He needed the money, after all, if he wanted to cross off Step Four: Bring Jaskier back to Kaer Morhen in its entirety, including the note: Buy him some nice and warm clothes on the way - Vesemir

It was good advice, Geralt knew, as most of Vesemir's advice was. Jaskier might have travelled with a witcher for the better part of his life, but he was still only human. And winters were very cold in the northern Kaedwen mountains.

So, on Geralt's annual stop in Ard Carraigh, he took Jaskier to get him equipped with soft woollen sweaters and stockings, as well as a pair of sturdy boots, ignoring the bard's protests of how 'ugly' they were.

"You'll thank me when you've still got all your toes after this winter," he grumbled as he strapped Jaskier's bag to Roach's saddle.

After that, nothing much exciting followed. There were still a few villages and hamlets along the way to Kaer Morhen but the least of them had so much as a tavern. The ones with a real audience of Jaskier were fewer still.

Geralt couldn't say he didn't enjoy it. Quite the opposite, he loved listening to Jaskier in the privacy of their camp or — if they were lucky — the barn where they could stay the night. He loved knowing that Jaskier sang only for him. And most of all he loved the vibrant smiles he got along the way, and the tiny ones, too, etched on his face even when he curled up against the witcher at night.

During the days, Jaskier finally had to stop riding on Roach; the path was simply getting too dangerous. The way up to Kaer Morhen had never been easy, not even when there had been two dozen witchers and twice as many students living there, but since the attack they hadn't tended to it anymore. The Witcher's Trail was no easy one for humans — and it wasn't meant to be.

Jaskier, to his credit, didn't comment much on it, most of the time too exhausted or admiring to run his mouth about the difficulty of getting to Geralt's home. He was almost a bit worried, anxious even, if Jaskier's reaction to seeing the ancient ruin would just be the same kind of silent admiration.

Evidently, there had been no need. They rounded the last corner and, finally, Kaer Morhen was looming up above them. As soon as his eyes fell on it, Jaskier gasped and ran ahead. He had, apparently, forgotten about his aching limbs he had complained about just that morning. "Is that it?" he asked excitedly. "Geralt, is this it?"

"No, it's another crumbling fortress in the Kaedwen mountains," he deadpanned.

"You're mean," Jaskier accused him and turned back around to the keep. "For months I've dreamt of this moment and what do you do? You mock me, truly a horrible habit, that- oh, gods, Geralt, it's so beautiful!"

"Hmm," he answered, watching Jaskier intently. The childish glee on his face, the snowflakes dancing around him and melting in his hair. "I guess so."

"Can we go inside?"

Another barbed comment was already on the tip of his tongue, but Geralt guessed that he shouldn't ruin the moment. Not if Jaskier was so happy. "We can. Come on."

They were still a good distance away when the gates creaked open and three bulking figures stepped outside. "You're early," he accused Eskel and Lambert once they caught up to them. They weren't supposed to be there. They were messing up Step Five: Meet the family. (Lambert Eskel Lambert Vesemir first.)

"And you're impolite," Vesemir grumbled. "I taught you better, Geralt."

"Hmm," he answered and the silence that followed might've been awkward if not for Jaskier.

Thanks to him there was no silence at all, to be precise. "You must be Vesemir; Geralt told me so much about you. Dare I say, Master Witcher, I am honoured and humbled by the invitation, and am looking forward to my stay. The name's Jaskier and I am at your service," he concluded and bowed with a flourish.

The three witchers gaped at him in surprise and Geralt couldn't help but grin. No overly detailed stories by him could've possibly prepared them for... well, Jaskier. "What," Lambert muttered quietly, "the fuck?"

"Now, that's just rude," Jaskier said as he straightened himself, "don't you think? Geralt, your brother is being rude to me."

It was all he could do not to laugh freely. Instead he shrugged and said: "Told you he's the rude one."

"Oh, you're Lambert!" The bard grinned widely and stretched out his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

Lambert huffed in surprise and shook the offered hand. "Tell you what, bard, I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended."

"Offended," Geralt mumbled just as Eskel said: "Flattered."

Jaskier smiled widely and wickedly. "Both."

Lambert opened his mouth, presumably to return a rude comment, but Jaskier's attention was diverted by Eskel, who gave him a thorough once-over and then nodded. "Welcome to Kaer Morhen, bard."

"Thank you, uh, Eskel?" he hazarded a guess.

A smile tugged on the unscarred corner of his mouth. "That's right."

"Dinner's in an hour," Vesemir cut in. "Maybe you could show our guest to his room, Geralt?"

Right. With the meeting out of the way it was time for Step Six: Show him to his room (Make sure it has some nice fur rugs - Vesemir) (Shag him on the rug - Lambert) (Offer to stay with him if he's cold - Eskel). Both of those additions seemed equally daunting to him.

But before he could even think of an excuse as to why he couldn't do that right now, Roach's reins were ripped from his hands and they were being pushed towards the keep.

"Well, they're certainly eager to get rid of you, considering they haven't seen you for a year," Jaskier quipped once they were inside the keep proper.

"That's not- hmm." 'Fuck.' He had almost betrayed himself. "They'll be different after dinner," he promised. "Besides, you know they can hear you."

"So?" He huffed a laugh. "I know they're just like you; all bark and no bite."

He was about to deny that claim but Lambert's offended howl that reached him from the courtyard quickly changed his mind. That definitely was worth the jab at his own ego. "Come on," he urged, smiling, "no need to continue playing the jester for them any further."

"Why, is there any issue with providing entertainment for a living?" Jaskier teased.

"Only if it's at the expense of me."

He sighed dramatically. "That I know, my dear. That I know."

"Jaskier?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to give you a tour of the keep."

"You are? Oh, I wouldn't have noticed." Geralt shot him a dirty look. Jaskier snickered maliciously, the bastard. "Oh, yeah, yep. Shutting up. Go ahead, Sir Witcher, show me your magnificent home."

From anyone else it might've been mockery. It might've been mockery from Jaskier, too, if not for the sound of absolute awe in his voice as he took in their surroundings.

Geralt could hardly blame him. It might've been a long time since he had arrived at Kaer Morhen, but he still remembered how dumbstruck he had been at the sheer immensity of the place that should become since home.

It had lost its mysticism since then, but seeing Jaskier's childlike wonder as he led him through the kitchens and great hall made him remember. He showed him the library, too, as well as the stairs down to the hot springs that he must never, ever confuse with those that led to the laboratories.

He closed with the rooms the various witchers claimed as their own: "That's Lambert's room down the hall, don't go there, he's a prick; Vesemir is a few floors below us, claims he's too old for our squabbles; that's mine, and that one's Eskel's, ask him if you need something and I'm not there, not Lambert, he's an arsehole-"

"Geralt," Jaskier said soothingly and put a hand on his arm, "you're rambling."

"Am I?" he asked confused. "Don't think so."

"There's no need to be nervous, dear. I won't abandon you; you're stuck with me for the winter."

"I'm not nervous," Geralt insisted, his fingers twitching nervously.

"Right," Jaskier took his hand away, evidently not very convinced. "I'm sorry for interrupting you, then."

"Don't be," he mumbled, not quite able to tear his gaze from Jaskier's gentle smile.

"Geralt?"

"Hm?"

"Do I-" He started fidgeting with his lute strap. "Do I have a room, too? I mean, not that I mind sharing with you, that's not the issue at all- gods, I sound stupid-"

His eyes still trained on Jaskier, he reached behind him and opened the door. "There."

"That's my room?" he asked without turning around to look inside.

"That's yours," Geralt confirmed. He had prepared it last winter already. Just in case.

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the poet whirled around and rushed into the sparsely furnished room. He looked very much... out of place. The realisation hit him like a slap in the face; but apparently the visual of Jaskier and his bright purple doublet in the grey empty walls of Kaer Morhen was what it took for him to realise how little they were reconcilable.

For the first time in his life he felt self-conscious for his home. "'S not much," Geralt mumbled.

"It's wonderful." Jaskier beamed, carefully inspecting the bed and the rug, peering out the window and into the chest. "Might get a bit cold, though."

He grumbled something he knew to be unintelligible to humans into his beard.

"What was that, love?"

"You could always stay with me," he spoke up. "Y'know. We've shared before."

"That we have! You might find that before long you will be forced to let me take you up on your generous offer."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and left him to it, in order to complete Step Six.5: No, let him arrive first, you idiot! There would be no 'being forced' of any kind, but he wasn't quite ready to admit that to Jaskier, yet.

Despite their apparent incompatibility Jaskier settled into the routine of Kaer Morhen disturbingly quickly. Though 'settle into' wasn't quite the right choice of words. More like 'tear it down and build it anew, but with lyrics, laughter, and luminosity'.

The evening of their arrival was truly mortifying, the worst mix of embarrassing stories of Geralt's childhood and very inappropriate questions directed at Jaskier. Geralt had spent the whole dinner frozen in shock and awe at the masterful display of the bard's craftsmanship.

After an hour of vicious cross-examination, the three witchers had finally backed off. And as Vesemir had retreated to his rooms, Lambert had brought up the alcohol. It hall had spiralled out of Geralt's control after that.

Within the hour Lambert and Jaskier were japing and jabbing at each other as if they were lifelong friends and not acquaintances since a few hours. It took his bard three days to have Vesemir completely wrapped around his finger, intently listening to his droning lectures about basically everything. And not even a fortnight into their stay, he found Jaskier and Eskel in the library, talking with hushed voices. He quickly retreated but not before he heard Jaskier telling his brother how beautiful he was, scars or no scars, and Eskel sniveled quietly.

A month since their arrival saw them trapped into the castle by the heavy snowfalls. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Vesemir from drilling them mercilessly.

They were an hour into their morning routine when they all perked at the sound of soft footsteps passing through the hall. "Jaskier," Geralt said softly.

The bard was bundled up in several quilts, his face barely visible beneath the mess of his hair and the blankets. Still his face lit up with the brightest smile when he saw them. "Mornin', lads," he croaked, "lookin' good, keep it up." He gave them a tired thumbs-up and shuffled off to the kitchen, where Vesemir would provide him with a hot breakfast with a side of 'most-boring-information-on-this-earth'. It was their own morning routine of sorts, and the three of them knew it wouldn't be long before they were discussing the 'merits of the iambic pentameter in 10th century love poetry' or some shit.

"Fuck," Lambert cursed once they knew Jaskier to be out of earshot, "I really can't blame you, Geralt. Too much time with him and I start gawking like a love-sick idiot, too."

"Hmm," Geralt agreed. Jaskier definitely had that effect.

"Jealous, wolf?" Eskel inquired with a knowing smile.

"No," he answered earnestly. If anything, he loved Jaskier more for it. His family wasn't easy to deal with, he knew. But his bard didn't care. He had so much affection to give, even for witchers. 'Especially for witchers.' He closed his eyes with a happy smile.

"Y'know, there's still a couple of steps left on our list," Eskel informed him casually.

Geralt's eyes snapped open as his heart sped up. 'Fuck.' The plan. "Hmm."

"Just fucking get it over with," Lambert yearned. "Your pining isn't any less obnoxious just because he's here."

"If anything, it's gotten worse," Eskel agreed.

"So?" he snapped. He had put it off, that was true. Had waited for the snow, he told himself, but now the snow was here and-

"So, we'll distract him this afternoon," Eskel interrupted his spiralling thoughts.

"And you pull your head outta your arse and fucking follow through," Lambert added.

"Fine," he ground out. "We do that." Not before he kicked both their arses during their training, though, for being such utter dicks.

Before long, however, the inevitable happened. Morning passed over to noon, and, true to their words, Lambert and Eskel whisked Jaskier away after lunch. They left Geralt behind in the hall with a branch in his hands and nothing left to do but complete Step Seven: Hang up a mistletoe.

"Fuck," he muttered. Nearly one year had passed since they had come up with their conspiracy. One year to gather his courage, one year to come up with a plan, one year to at least think about where to fucking put it. "Fuck," he said again, for good measure.

He looked around. Looked to the rafters. Looked at the mistletoe. "Fuck it," he declared and tucked it away to scale up to the rafters.

He was already up there, dangling from one of the beams when he remembered that he had nothing to secure it with besides the silky ribbon that would never fit around it. He scowled darkly. He sure as hell wouldn't climb down and up again. Without further ado he pulled his dagger from his belt and drove it deep into the wood, pinning the mistletoe by the ribbon.

He climbed down again, making sure that it was visible from the ground. 'Perfect,' he decreed. With the mistletoe in place, it was now time for Step Eight: Have Lambert and Eskel inform Jaskier of the mistletoe and a strategically placed Geralt. 

He spun around to go and alert his brothers, when he heard a cheerful voice behind him: "Geralt! There you are, you mean witcher, I was wondering where you were hiding. You know, it is not nice to leave your, uh- bedmate all alone and freezing in the morning, and- oh." There was a thoughtful pause. "Now would you look at that."

Geralt heaved a long sigh. He dreaded turning around, for he had a very distinct feeling he knew already what he would see. And fuck, he was not ready for that step. For some stupid reason, he still did turned around.

Jaskier stood in the middle of the hall, squinting up at the ceiling. "Are my eyes deceiving me — and they might be, mind you, my eyes are not as good as a witcher's — or is that a mistletoe I spy up there."

He cursed internally. He knew he should've hung it lower. "Hmm," he answered, his heart beating in his throat. Why was his heart beating in his throat? It wasn't supposed to do that. His voice was surprisingly calm when he said: "Seems like it."

"Oh no!" he moaned woefully. "Quick, Geralt, come here and lift the curse!"

"Curse?" he inquired bemusedly as his feet moved without his volition. "What curse, Jaskier?"

The bard gasped. "Don't you know? When someone passes beneath a mistletoe, they are frozen to the spot until the curse is broken."

"Hmm," he stepped under the mistletoe, too. He should've known Jaskier would make up a story around this. It was just a tradition, for fuck's sake, no curse. Although a curse was certainly more romantic, even he had to admit that. "Must be a rare curse if a witcher's never heard of it."

"The rarest," Jaskier insisted and pointed at his cheek. "It may only be broken with a true love's kiss."

In light of what happened next, let it be known that, in Geralt's defence, he was panicking. Quite thoroughly so. Since the Trials his legs hadn't shaken like that anymore.

He had been promised a pep talk by his brothers before having to confront the situation at hand. And yet they were nowhere to be found and Jaskier was here, evidently expecting him to kiss him.

'Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck.' He was not ready; he was not ready; he was not-

"Geralt?" Jaskier ripped him from his thoughts. "Are you waiting till my nose grows icicles, or what?"

Still, he leaned forward, placing one hand on Jaskier's hip and the other on his shoulder, and pecked him on the cheek.

The cheek. That had not been the plan. That had not been the plan at all. And then, of all things, he heard himself ask: "Can you move again?"

Jaskier blinked, looking just as dumbstruck as Geralt felt. "I- I think so?" he stammered and moved to pull away, blushing furiously.

'Fuck, no,' he remembered thinking. And while he wasn't quite in control of his limbs again, what he did next was probably the single most clever thing he had done in his entire life. Gingerly almost, he tightened his grip on Jaskier. His head tilted to the side, an invitation, an escape.

His bard didn't move. Instead, he said: "Doesn't seem like it."

"Hmm," Geralt answered and leaned in closer. "Difficult curse, seems like. Let me try again."

Before he could even think of changing his mind, Jaskier had his arms looped around Geralt's neck and crushed their lips together. He did his best to reciprocate the kiss, which wasn't easy with fear still gripping his heart tightly, but then Jaskier crowded closer, moulding his body against Geralt's and that was all it took for the tension to seep from his bones and go limb.

It was a weird sensation; being wrapped in Jaskier's arms was so familiar, but he was also kissing Jaskier, which was new- 'Great gods, I am kissing Jaskier, I am kissing Jaskier, I am-'

He pulled back with a triumphant grin, evidently startling his bard. "What?" he asked, very confused.

"I am kissing you," he announced, his grin widening even more.

Jaskier frowned. "That you are, but-"

"I am kissing you," he said again and pecked him on the lips. "And I can keep doing it."

"Oh!" The frown eased away, giving way to the softest of smiles. "That you can, my dear."

So, Geralt did. Again. And again. And again, and again, and again. He didn't know how many times he had kissed Jaskier, how many times Jaskier had kissed him, before he pulled back and blurted: "I love you."

Jaskier stared at him in silent awe, before blushing and cupping his cheeks gently. "That you do, my love," he whispered. "And I love you, too." Softly, he pressed their lips together again.

"You do?" Geralt asked disbelievingly.

Jaskier smirked. "I do. For years and years, I have. I thought you knew."

"Fuck," he muttered. Did that mean... 'I didn't have to do any of this.' He could've just- "I'm an idiot."

"Only sometimes," he allowed, giggling sillily. Geralt was compelled to join in. "Besides, you’re my idiot, and I love you for it." He shifted a little, so he could lean his head comfortably onto Geralt's shoulder despite them being nearly the same height. 

"So," Jaskier drawled, curling a strand of Geralt's hair around his finger, "are we just going to keep standing here, or...?"

He scoffed. Of course, they wouldn't. He had a plan, after all. "Fuck." The plan.

Jaskier raised his head. "Is that a curse or an answer?"

"Yes," he answered warily.

It earned him the most beautiful snorting laugh he had ever heard. "What are you cursing at, love?"

"We skipped Step Eight," he admitted, "got right to Step Nine."

"Excuse me, what?"

"Step Nine: Kiss Jaskier." The poet just gawked at him. "I had a list," he explained.

"You had?" Jaskier's eyes lit up and he made grabby hands. "Show me, show me!"

Reluctantly, Geralt handed it over, studying Jaskier's face carefully as he read through it.

"I knew it," Jaskier concluded finally.

"Huh?"

"Oh, come on!" He threw up his hands. "You were acting weird all year round, Geralt! Not that I'm complaining, mind you, but still, weird. It took me about ten minutes to figure out there was some ploy at play." He laughed quietly and waved the paper around. "Though I never would've guessed what was amiss."

"You don't like it."

"On the contrary! It's a wonderful plan," the poet said and pecked him on the lips. "I've got to admit, though, Lambert was right: you should've just fucked me on that rug once we got here."

"Hmmm." Geralt nuzzled against Jaskier's neck, holding him closer when he tried to squirm away from the tickling sensation. "That still an option?"

"Very much so. I believe it has to be one more step before completing your list." He pulled him close and whispered against his lips: "Take me to bed, my love"

And how could Geralt refuse such a request? Especially if it coincided so luckily with Step Ten.

[honeytae]

I think we should leave before you dedicate another song to me.

hi bubs!! so this is just the reader dealing with a very drunk jinnie doing karaoke ft. platonic hoseok, jimin, and jungkook. real chaotic, lots of drunken fluffy fun ahead. i hope you guys enjoy <3

tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy genre: fluff word count: 2.2k

“Jin, you should slow down.”

“Jinnie, you have to work early tomorrow.”

“Love, did you just order another?”

Despite all your reminders, Jin had continued drinking throughout the night, tossing back alcohol with glazed-over eyes, his movements and speech becoming more and more slacked with each emptied glass. 

And now here you were, seated in a booth between Hobi and Jungkook, all eyes glued to your boyfriend swaying in front of the karaoke machine across the bar. 

“Jesus, how much did he have?” Hoseok asked, cringing when Jin dropped the microphone, the emphasized ‘thud’ resounding through the building. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “but I blame Jimin.” You all looked across the bar to the man raising hell with shots in hand, tossing them back as if they were water as he continued shouting song requests at Jin. 

“Sometimes I don’t know why I come out with this group.” Hoseok grumbled, Jungkook chuckling in response.

Hoseok, a glass of water in hand, was completely sober apart from the sip of Jin’s wine he had earlier. Originally, he had hoped to call it an early night; a plan that was foiled as soon as his friends decided to order copious rounds of shots for the whole bar.

You and Jungkook were in similar conditions, limiting yourselves to watch after the drunker half of the friend group, scoping the scene out from one of the booths by the exit. 

Your attention was brought back to Seokjin when he cleared his throat into the microphone, exaggerating the action as he waited for your eyes to meet his. 

Raising your eyebrows in amusement at the man, he winked at you, causing you to dramatically fall back into your seat with a hand over your chest. 

Smiling at the sound of his giggles into the microphone, you watched as his finger moved around on the touchscreen below him, all three of you laughing when the familiar instrumental started.

“Is he kidding right now?” Jungkook’s nose scrunched up in laughter, resting his forehead in his palm with a shake of his head. 

“Unfortunately, he is one hundred percent serious.” You answered with a smile, watching your boyfriend bob his head to the beat of the symbals before coming in to read the lyrics. 

Hoseok’s loud laughter filled the room as Seokjin began singing the first words of Sweet Caroline, thoroughly amused at his older friend swaying to the music onstage. 

Your eyes were momentarily deterred by the sound of Jimin whooping at your boyfriend from the counter, serving as his hype man as you let your head fall into your hands. 

“Touchin’ me, touchin’ you.” He pointed at you, Hoseok laughing harder as he clapped his hands together in front of his face, collapsing back into the seat as his eyes clenched shut. 

“Sweet Caroline,” your boyfriend sang out while smiling at you, making you giggle as he moved his hips to the following ‘bum, bum, bum.’ 

“God, he’s blasted.” Jungkook snorted beside you, you chuckling with him as you watched the man clumsily sway his body to the beat of the song. 

“He’s having fun.” You shrugged, Jungkook watching your hand as you dug into your bag, laughing when you raised your illuminated phone screen and moved it back and forth along to the beat.

Quick to follow your action, the men on either side of you reached for their own devices, showing their support for their bandmate as he continued singing the entirety of the song, stepping back from the microphone stand when the instrumental faded out. 

Cheering for the man, you raised your hands above your head to clap for him, yelling out praises for him as drunken people around the room did the same. 

Seokjin suppressed a shy smile as he stepped off the stage, eyes set on you with a slight pout to his bottom lip, cheeks flushed in light pink as the corners of his mouth pressed into his plush cheeks. 

He was a bit unsteady as he walked, just enough to be noticeable if you were really looking for it, but not enough for people around him to be bothered. 

“Hi, baby.” Jin cooed at you, making grabby hands at you as he messily collapsed into the booth, your arms welcoming him into a hug as he rested his temple against your shoulder, legs haphazardly draped across the seat so that his ankles hung off into the aisle. 

Bringing your hand up to his head, you brushed his hair away from his face, pushing it back and lightly scratching at his scalp as the younger men watched in amusement. 

“Hey hyung, you having a good time?” Jungkook smirked, chuckling when the older man nodded innocently, wide-eyed expression making his younger friend giggle.

“I fucking killed it up there.” He mentioned, briefly glancing up at you for confirmation, making you giggle too as you nodded your head for him. 

“You fucking killed it up there, love. Better than Diamond.” You affirmed, your boyfriend mouthing the words to himself before nodding with a slight grin, clumsily placing his head back down onto your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Are you having fun?” He slurred, you humming positively as you rubbed your palm in circles on his back.

“I am,” You agreed, “although,” you paused as Seokjin lifted his head to pout up at you, “I think we should leave before you dedicate another song to me.” You grinned, the man grinning back at you before settling back into your hold again.

He was quite literally latched onto you like a child in the middle of the bar, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care as you threaded your fingers through his soft tendrils, entertaining his mumbling about random topics as you tried to get him to drink some of your water. 

Jungkook and Hobi soon went to the bar in search of a new glass of water for the man, each going to a separate side of the counter to try to gather an employee’s attention. 

It was when Jin quieted that you began to feel concerned, leaning over his slumped frame to catch a glimpse at his closed eyes, staring before you began shaking his shoulder slightly to rouse him.

“You okay?” You asked as his eyes began fluttering up at you, hearing him whine as he scooted closer to you, burying his face into your neck further as you rubbed at his back. 

“Mm. Tired.” He mumbled into your skin, pressing his lips to the spot.

“Ready to go home, baby?” You asked softly, cheering internally when you felt him nod his head against you, his weakened body sitting up straight with your help as you tried to gather your bag with your other arm.

“I can take that.” He reached his hand out for you to place the bag into, making you chuckle lightly as you agreed, his fingers gripping the strap as you guided his other arm over your shoulders. 

Slowly coming to a stand with the man hanging on your back, you glanced over at the boys at the bar, offering a wave when Jungkook’s gaze found yours. 

Quickly shuffling over to you, he ruffled his hair out of his eyes, shifting his focus to the half-asleep man on your shoulder with a slight grin. 

“Hey, you want some help?” He offered, doe eyes eagerly shining back at you as you shook your head no. 

“I think I’ll be able to get him in fine, I just-” 

A crash interrupted your words, all three of your heads diverting to the source of the noise with wide eyes. 

Jimin was on the floor instead of his stool, a shattered glass previously full of some kind of clear alcohol spilled all over the ground beside his body as Hoseok tugged on his arms with an annoyed expression to get him to stand.

“And it looks like you’re needed here.” You raised your eyebrows at the scene, Jungkook sighing as he nodded, frowning at the scene before he turned back to you, retreating backward to Jimin.

“Call us if you need anything, okay?” 

You nodded, wishing him luck before focusing your attention back on the man hanging on your arm, slowly turning to exit the building to not make Seokjin’s world spin any more than it currently was. 

“Jimin’s so drunk.” He slurred, causing you to snort a laugh back, humming in agreement as you encouraged your boyfriend to step with you with a secured grip on his torso.

Walking down the street proved to be quite difficult with the tall man slung over your frame, arm thrown across your shoulders so that his weight was fully resting on you. 

Your hand tightly clutched his over your collarbone, the other hand gripping his waist as your arm wrapped around his torso, his feet trudging along beside yours to keep up with the pace. 

You hummed along to the jumbled words he said, only picking up certain details and names through the slurred sentences leaving his mouth as you tried to lug his body along the sidewalk, fully concentrated on getting him to the car.

Finally reaching the vehicle, you leaned the man up against the passenger side door, patting your pockets for the keys and sifting through your bag, frowning when you came up empty-handed. 

Remembering that Seokjin had been the one to drive earlier, you turned to the man, biting your lip to contain the smile on your face when you recognized the tune from back at the karaoke machine being hummed by his throat. 

“Do you have the keys, baby?” You asked, Seokjin’s eyes widening at the question before he furrowed his brows, the pats of his palms against his thighs exaggerated by the liquor in his system.

You had to suppress a laugh when he gasped upon finding the metal in his pocket, producing it with a proud grin causing you to lean forward to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you.” You said as you took the keys into your hand, offering your arm around his torso once again to guide him away from the car, the man stumbling after you to allow you space to open the door for him. 

“I don’t know how much I can help with this part, love.” You admitted as you helped him lean against the car seat, the man nodding as he put his palms on the seat behind him. 

“I think I got it.” He said, quickly boosting himself up from the ground to the seat with a triumphant grin, making you nearly coo at his adorable innocence.

Helping him place his long legs into the car, you watched as he fumbled with the seatbelt beside him, finally succeeding as the buckle clicked at his fingers scrambling movements. 

Soft smile pressing into his full cheeks, Seokjin glanced up at you after his achievement, giddily mirroring your expression when you grinned at the content look on his face. 

Even though it was obvious he’d be feeling it tomorrow, you were happy that Jin got to relax and have some fun tonight. He deserved it after everything he faced daily, so much worry and concern going into others that he forgot about the well-being of the most important person; himself. 

“You good?” You smiled, the man nodding as he shot you a thumbs up, making you laugh as you retreated from the car. 

“Good.”

Shutting the door behind him, you rounded the front, opening the driver's side to lift yourself into the vehicle with a huff. 

The car started with a low hum, lights coming up on the display telling you that it was just short of 3 am, making you cringe even more at the amount of sleep Seokjin would get before having to wake for work in the morning.

He didn’t seem to pay any mind though, tapping his fingers against his thighs as he played an imaginary song in his head. The carefree action made you smile again, staring for a moment. Drunk Jin truly was a treasure.

 “Music?” He suddenly mumbled, you chuckling at him for a moment before reaching for your phone, handing him the device to connect to the aux cord as you buckled your seatbelt. 

Your lips quirked into a knowing smile when the intro to Sweet Caroline filled your ears for the second time tonight, glancing over at his smirking face with a giggle. 

“You’re something else, dear.” You sighed, pushing his hair back off his forehead as he beamed at you, high-pitched chuckles filling the car. 

Clutching the gear stick, you prepared to pull out of the parking spot, double-checking in your mirror for any cars to potentially catch you off guard. 

Placing his hand over yours, Seokjin momentarily halted your actions, your gaze locking on his dark eyes as they shone back at you in the night.

“I love you so much.” He pouted, making you smile as you leaned forward to gently press your lips against his, pulling back with a swipe of your thumb against his chin. 

“I love you too, Jinnie.”

“Baby?” 

“Hm.” You looked over to him, the man gazing over at you as he slumped back in his seat, tired eyes meeting yours as they squinted at you. 

“Am I as drunk as Jimin?” He asked, head tilted a bit as he awaited your answer. 

“For sure, love.” You answered with a chuckle, switching gears with a grin as Seokjin clung to your arm beside you, absentmindedly swaying to the beat of the music in the background. 

[solarwonux]

20.  “Give me a kiss please.”

college!hoshi x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, friends to lovers (kind off) and suggestive towards the end. also i didn’t edit this lol

note: Enjoy, I’ve been slowly trying to get back into writing again. I had been in a slump for a while now, so I apologize if my work hasn’t been up to parr as of late, also idk i feel like im slowly changing my writing style or something lol. Anyway, once again let me know if you liked it, I really really do read everything and all comments that I get means the world to me. I’ve talked long enough so enjoy>xx

masterlist || drabble game

In your years of young adulthood and college parties where the smell of sweat and alcohol lingered in the air, you had never once come across a drunk person like Soonyoung.

He had started drinking or pregaming as he put it, since two. It was now almost twelve in the morning, he was god knows how many drinks in and possibly the most annoying person you could ever encounter.

“Hoshi get the fuck off me.” You groaned in your equally as drunk state and tried to push him off. You weren’t sure how many drinks you had downed since you had joined in on his pregaming, but you knew for a fact that you were in a far better state than your best friend. At least you weren’t trying to kiss everybody and anything.

“Give me a kiss please.” He whined puckering his lips and bringing his face close to yours. You yelled and tried to push his face away but atlas your efforts had been deemed as unsuccessful when he managed to plant a wet disappointing tequila filled kiss against your cheek. “That was the worst kiss ever!” He protested, looking at you through his eyelashes as he circled his arms around your waist.

“Then go kiss someone else Soonyoung.” Your voice was laced with anger. Your tone falling upon deaf years as he rested his check against your shoulder. As much as you tried to pry him off, you couldn’t because his hold on your body would only get tighter.

“Everyone here has sucky lips, I like yours.” He said lowly and if it weren’t for the fact that Seungcheol had rudely cut off Seungkwan’s third attempt of the same song he had been drunkly singing for the past fifteen minutes; you wouldn’t have heard him. But you did and you couldn’t deny the way your heart had started to race. “Also don’t call me by my full name it makes me feel like your mom, and you’re not.” He finished and raised his head. His glistening eyes met yours and they quickly traveled down to your lips before he sighed and unraveled his body from yours. He sat up again, his back hitting the extremely uncomfortable grey couch, crossing his arms in front of him like a child. He acted like what he had just said wasn’t revolutionary and just the obvious when in reality you were losing your shit on the inside.

“What am I to you then?” The question traveled through your closed lips faster than you could stop it. You mentally wanted to slap yourself for asking such an obvious question.

The two of you were friends, had been friends since middle school and had surprisingly kept in touch in high school, until graduation. The summer before your freshman year of college you had lost touch and you assumed it was simply because life was changing faster than you could process it that there wasn’t enough time to keep a friendship that could’ve blossomed into something more. In all honesty it was a surprise when you had walked into your University cafe for the first time one morning during your second semester of your college, that you recognized the cute cashier everyone had been gossiping about for weeks now.

The look on his face when he saw you was priceless, the exitement radiating off his body as he tried to patiently take your order. His questions about everything he had unfortunately missed, without giving you enough time to answer. He had paid for your coffee using his employee discount to apologize for not reaching out sooner. Your friendship picking up right where it left off like nothing had happened, except for the fact that your feelings for him never managed to go away.

“You’re my best friend of course.” He threw his head back and sank further into the couch. His confession hitting you a lot more differently now that you were possibly drunk out of your mind. “But I want us to be something more. Only if you want to of course I don’t want to do things you’re uncomfortable with especially because I know that you don’t have feelings for and like Min-”

His long meaningless speech was cut off by your lips as you kissed him swallowing his words. Soonyoung had never once been caught off guard in his twenty four years of life, but there was always a first time for everything. He let himself relax and closed his eyes, relished in the way your lips felt against his and finally kissed you back. It was slow at first and with a lot of caution until he realized that you weren’t going to pull away any time soon and kissed you back harder with ferocity that could only be blamed on years of secretly pining after you.

The wolf whistles around them started along with an old slow song that he was sure his father had once played for his mom after a fight, asking for forgiveness.

Your arms snaked up his body and hooked around his neck only pulling him close and his hands found present against your waist. Finally, after sensing your lack of air, you pulled away. Soonyoung’s smug face resembling the red solo cups his drinks had once been in.

“Sometimes you talk to much.” You whispered and placed a chaste kiss against his parted lips before pulling away and standing. Soonyoung groaned his arms slumping down at his side, his body going into what he had once read could be withdraw as he was already missing your touch. The same touch he had gone years without experiencing.

Love was a dangerous, he concluded.

“Come on baby boy, I don’t think I want audience for what I really want to do to you now.” You leaned over grabbing his hands that were openly resting against his jean cladded thighs and pulled him. He stumbled as he tried to come to terms what you had just confessed. He could feel the exhaustion form earlier being webed away as you guided him away from prying eyes and down the hallway that led to the rooms.

“Wait are we going to do more than kiss?” He stupidly asked when you opened a vacant room and guided him inside. You shut the door, locking it before pressing your body against his,

“Only if you want.” You toyed with the buttons of his hidious tiger printed shirt, patiently waiting for his go ahead. He threw his head back mumbling out a prayer before locking his lust filled eyes with yours.

“God, I don’t think I could say no, I’ve only dreamt of this day a couple hundred times and now that its here, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but underneath you.”

[derekmorganscrocs]

Galentines Gone Wrong

Pairing: Wendell Bray x Reader, Valentine’s Special.

Word Count: 2,623

Summary: Y/n Booth is an FBI agent who works under her brother Seeley Booth and is also partnered with the Jeffersonian. Valentines rolls around and Cam, Daisy, and Y/n are all painfully single. Brennen and Angela join in and the group decides it’s girls night, get absolutely smashed, cause major chaos and get arrested for disturbing the peace. When their counterparts show up to bail them out, girls night turns to date night... or whatever this is.

Edit, March 11th: I hate the end of this. I reread it and it’s lowkey trash, but I’m going to keep it up because people seem to be enjoying it. Just a disclaimer that this is not my best work.

Notes: Tbh I second guessed this yesterday, hence the late post. I want to clarify that Wendell IS NOT preying on a drunk girl, and there was no drunk hookup. This is definitely not my favourite thing I’ve written and I was so out of ideas for the ending, but fck it, I have a migraine and feel like the personification of death. ALSO I WOULD NEVER USE GALENTINES IRL IK ITS LAME BUT I SIMPLY DO NOT CARE. HOLDIDAY SPIRIT BABES. Anyway, on with the show.

It’s been a long night. Fun, but long. You wake up against Daisy’s side, stretching lazily, and still partially drunkenly. As you sit up, you recall the events that led to your current seat in a drunk tank.

The five of you ended up in a biker bar, huge leather-clad and big bearded dudes all over the damn place. Despite being big scary bikers, they were chill and actually bought half of your drinks. Then you and Daisy got a little too close to an attractive younger biker, and his girlfriend was not having it. So an argument turned full on brawl caused the lot of you to bail out of the bar and trek back into town.

Only you were real rowdy, laughing and singing, a little to loudly for anyone’s liking. And got the cops called on you. And got thrown in a dunk tank. Unfortunately “you can’t arrest me, I am the law” doesn’t work if you’re drunk. The cops weren’t a fan of your badge, either.

You’re torn from your thoughts at the sound of voices down the hall, and you stumble over the the bars of the cell, holding onto them for balance. A half-hour nap didn’t do much to sober you up. The voices get closer, and your friends and brother walk in. Wendell’s the first one you notice, your eyes immediately darting to him. He’s wearing a hot ass black jacket, jeans and a white T-shirt, and you stare at him for a lot longer than you should.

“Hey, BJ. Never thought I’d see you on the other side of the bars.” Hodgins laughs at your expression of annoyance, and lets the cop they’re with open the cell door. He walks over to grab Angela, and you scoff.

“I told you to stop calling me BJ. I know you mean Booth Junior, but other people might think something else,” you mutter, much less than impressed at the innuendo tied to the nickname.

Your brother and Sweets go collect Brennan and Daisy, and Cam stands up on her own. She’s the most level-headed of all of you, and she’s completely sobered up now. Wendell walks to your side, your brother is too occupied with his (much less coordinated than you are) wife. Wendell puts an arm around you, and you gladly lean into him, hands settling on his chest.

“You’ll never guess what we did,” you giggle drunkenly against Wendell’s chest, overcome with the giddiness of a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Apparently you guys disturbed a lot of peace.” Wendell has somewhat of an impressed/concerned/entertained smirk on his face. He looks down at you, massively interested in the story as to how you got here. Not that he’ll hear it anytime soon.

“How’d you know?!” You look up at him with surprise written all over your face, a gasp escaping your lips, and it takes a lot for him not to burst out laughing.

“The sheriff told me. Let’s take you home, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble, much more sullenly than five seconds ago.

Wendell keeps an arm around you, more than a little worried that you’re gonna fall over, and takes you to his car. You get in the front seat, smacking his hand away as he tries to help with your seatbelt. After successfully buckling the seatbelt, you glance back at him with a smirk.

“You know if you wanted to get on top of me all you had to do was ask.”

Wendell nearly chokes and dies at what you’re insinuating. He’s also not sure if this is the tequila talking or if it’s you talking. Composing himself quickly, he lets out a chuckle, saying something along the lines of ‘okay then,’ and closes the door for you. He walks around the front of the car, making his way to the driver’s seat. Hodgins drives by, Angela and Cam in the car with him, and waves as he heads home.

Seeley pulls up beside Wendell, looking at him sternly. Daisy and Brennen are singing in the back seat, and Wendell can see Sweets in the front seat, holding back laughter. It’s a funny sight really, the usually stoic Dr. Brennen and overly excitable Daisy, swaying together in the back seat singing an off-key rendition of piano man. Seeley makes a face at a certain piercing high note that comes from Dr. Brennan, before turning to Wendell.

“Listen man, I appreciate it. If we didn’t live on the opposite side of town, I’d take her home.” Seeley leans out the window slightly, looking at Wendell.

“It’s no problem, really.” Wendell smiles, giving your brother a small wave as he turns to get in his car. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

“Wait! Not that I think you will, but don’t try anything. Alright?”

“Course not, man. Don’t worry, I got this. Head home, I’ll text you when I get Y/n home.” Wendell knows your brother means no harm, obviously, yet can’t help but think about why he’d even think to say that to him.

When he gets back in the car, seeing you sleeping soundly in the passenger seat, curled up and leaning against the window, his worries melt away and he smiles. He turns the car on and lowers the radio volume before driving off.

Tonight summarizes the two of you pretty well, actually. Y/n, the chaotic do-good-er badass, and Wendell, the (sometimes also chaotic) best friend, who always has your back. Sometimes it pains him that you only see him as that, a best friend, but he’s okay with just being that. A friend. Because it means he gets to see you happy. Little does he know, you wouldn’t have gotten so sauced tonight if you weren’t drinking away the thoughts of his lips on yours, his skin pressed against yours as the night turns to morning, the idea of a spark that doesn’t exist. The day of love sucks.

And for some reason, neither of you can see that you’re crazy about each other. Maybe it’s because you’re afraid to ruin what you have, or maybe it’s because you’re both just oblivious, but it doesn’t make a huge difference. Nothing seems to be happening.

Wendell is occupied with a lot of thoughts as he drives to your place. His mind bounces all over the place. He thinks about how you met, when you first walked into the Jeffersonian covered in dirt and sweat (in a cute way... even though he thinks anything is cute on you) after a chase in the desert, just to see your brother and make sure he was okay. He also thinks about the time he literally ran into you and the two of you fell down the platform stairs. The alarms went off, and everyone stared at the pair of you tangled up on the floor. Needless to say it took a while to live that one down. He thinks about every time he’s seen you laugh, and the few that he’s seen you cry. Not that you really even cried, you just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You don’t exactly do emotions, not out in the open at least.

He thinks about every reason he’s so smitten with you. You’re courageous, selfless, you protect your friends and family, you’re cutthroat and ferocious, yet simultaneously the sweetest person he’s ever met. You care about every detail of his day when you ask how he’s doing, and you can tell when the slightest thing is off with him, or anyone else at the lab, except for noticing his flaming crush on you. And as he thinks about all the little things, he realizes it can’t stay bottled up forever. He has to tell you.

Before long, you’re home. The two and a half hour drive have Wendell a lot of time to think, yet somehow it also feels like he’s had no time at all. The time has also started your trail toward sobriety, and you can at least think coherently. Wendell wakes you, and when you wake up, your hand goes to your head.

“Good god. Did I get hit by a bus?” Your words are still slightly jumbled together, but you’re getting back to business as usual, and that’s good enough.

“There she is,” he singsongs playfully, glad to see your usual demeanour starting to return. You unbuckle your seatbelt, groaning when you go to move. Wendell offers you a hand, and you take it.

Helping you up, he puts an arm around your waist again. You stumble slightly, and when he catches you, you fall against him, leaning against his chest. He ends up just scooping you up off the ground and carrying you inside, placing you on the couch. You’re mostly in good shape, just awful clumsy and distracted due to your headache. Wendell heads into the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and some crackers.

“How you doing?” He sits by your thigh, putting an arm on the back of the couch and looking over at you. You cover your face with your hands, laughing gently.

“Ugh, please tell me I didn’t actually make the worst sex implication joke ever.”

“Um...”

“Oh shit. This is embarrassing.” You sit up, still a little tipsy, but not as messed up as you were at the police station. Maybe if things go off you can play it off as Valentine’s tequila. “Fuck it. I’m just gonna go for it. Tonight was fun or whatever, but I really wanted to spend it with you.”

“We could’ve done that. We can hang out this weekend if you want.”

“No, no. You really are a blonde.” You laugh, nudging his shoulder with your fist. Suddenly nervous, you start to ramble. “Not that that’s bad, because you’re definitely pretty. You’re a cute blonde, and you do have really nice arms, they’re really toned, and you know, at the garage you wear these tight shirts and sometimes I just stare and I worry you see, but-“

“Y/n! You’re getting off track here.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, laughing at your rambles. “Maybe we should talk about this tomorrow.”

“I like you a lot.” The words are out of your mouth before he’s even finished his sentence. “Like I have feelings for you?” It comes out like a question, but it’s meant as more of a fearful statement.

“Wait, really?” His eyes widen and his smile falls. At first you think he’s about to run for the hills, but when a small smile appears on his face you’re not so sure.

“Ah, shit, I shouldn’t have said anything,” you curse, rolling your eyes at your own stupidity. That’s fuckin embarrassing.

“No, I like you, too. A lot.” Wendell takes your hand, and you lay against his side as he keeps talking. “We can talk more, when you’re sober. But I do like you. And I think that if we decided that this weekend’s hangout was more ‘ice skating in the park’ instead of ‘trying to kill each other at the rink’, I’d be more than okay with that. I’d like that a lot, actually.” He lets out a small, nervous chuckle, and he glances down at you, fingers grazing your cheek as he contemplates if it would be weird to cup your face with his hand and run his thumb over your cheek.

“Really?” You look up at him with an adorable awestruck expression, and he nearly bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, really.” A smile stays glued to his face, and he shifts slightly, which causes you to sit up. “Now, you should probably go to bed, so that you’re not completely useless tomorrow.”

Wendell plants a small kiss on the top of your head, before standing and scooping you up, bringing you to your room. He drops you gently on your bed, and you let out a small giggle as you bounce slightly with the impact. You banish him from your room so that you can change, and not really paying attention, grab a black hoodie and shorts out of your closet. When you open the door again, he’s just leaning against the wall outside.

“Sorry, I didn’t know where you wanted me to set up- is that my hoodie? I’ve been looking for that!”

“Huh?” You look down at the sweater, seeing the small Jeffersonian logo on the left side of the chest, and the initials on the sleeve. “Oh, I guess it is.” You remember when he gave it to you, he couldn’t stand the idea of you remaining in your blood soaked T-shirt, the grey had become a sticky maroon, too much so to be comfortable. “You can have it back-“

“No, you keep it.” He steps closer, lifting your chin so that you look at him, and brushing a stray hair out of your face. His voice drops, becoming softer and breathy. “It’s much cuter on you anyway,” he murmurs, making you blush profusely, a little laugh escaping your lips.

The two of you fall silent, each staring at the other’s lips. A hum comes from the furnace, causing you both to startle slightly, and it ends the moment. You glance back at Wendell again, before sitting on your bed. He tilts his head at you, mildly confused as to what you’re doing.

“Where did you want me to sleep?”

“Wherever you want. There’s blankets and a few pillows in the closet.”

He thanks you and walks out, and you breathe in deeply, not realizing how shallow your breathing had become. Your mind is racing, and so is your heart. This is simultaneously about the best and worst Valentine’s you’ve ever had. As you mull over the events of tonight, you slide under the blankets, laying back and staring at the ceiling. The shuffling in your living room comes to a stop, and you can hear Wendell coming back to your room. He stops in the doorway.

“Came back to say goodnight,” he says softly, making your heart melt.

“You mind staying for a while?” You sit up, looking at him. He glances over his shoulder at you, a perplexed expression plastered on his face. “What?! I’ve had a rough night,” you say, pretending to be offended. He makes his way over, laying on your bed, on top of the blankets. You roll over and face him, looking up at him lazily. “Goodnight, Wendell.”

You drift off to sleep fairly quickly, but not before you subconsciously lay your head on his chest. He’s terrified at first, frozen in place and afraid to breathe, but after a few minutes he collects himself and calms down. You sleep soundly, curled up beside Wendell. He’s warm and he smells good, and he’s pretty comfortable. By the morning, the two of you are completely intertwined, tangled in blankets and each others’ arms.

The two of you grab a greasy breakfast (and some Advil) and spend the day together, actually talking about what happened the night before. Most of the day is spent at your place, you and Wendell lounging around on your couch as you binge watch your favourite series and try to overcome your hangover.

The next days and weeks fly by, you and Wendell getting closer and closer. The pair of you go on a few dates before things are made official, Wendell going as far as taking you on a walk in the snow and officially asking you out by the outdoor rink. He even reserved ice time so the two of you could skate around like idiots and pass a puck around.

And eventually, when people start to see you’re together, and ask about your story, you have to tell them he bailed you out of jail after Galantine’s gone wrong.

[the-ce-horniest-book-club]

Last Chance Prompt Fest

Today is the day that our Last Chance Prompt Fest starts.

To take part, you don’t need to claim a prompt through us at all, you just find a prompt you like, create what you want to create and then tag us @the-ce-horniest-book-club​ and use the hashtag “CE HBC Last Chance Prompt Fest”. You can also DM your link to us to ensure we see it.

The event starts today, Friday, August 27th and ends next Friday, September 3, 2021.

Once the event has ended, we will answer the ask for the prompts that received creations. We will also have a masterlist for everything created as well.

Who can we create for?

You can create stuff for Steve Rogers, Chris Evans or any of Chris’s 18+ characters.

What can we create?

While the CE HBC is primarily a writing community, these events are to encourage creators of all types. So for this event, you can write, make moodboards, create a playlist, make a video or whatever you are inspired to create based on the prompts under the keep reading.

All of the prompts are listed below the cut and it does not matter how many things are created for each prompt.

Chris Evans Prompts

Could you do one with chris where the reader is eating something delicious and Chris hears them and tries to distract them with smutty things but the reader picks the treat over Chris. (Just had yams that tasted like my grandma used to make years ago, and I’ll pick that over Chris right now lol)

It’s hot AF where I live and we all know Chris doesn’t like the hot temps… so maybe something about trying to beat the heat

How many rounds was that? Four? God, we’re about to break our own record. With Chris? 😍

That’s a lot of sass for someone who ruined my sheets and still hasn’t apologized. With Chris?

Prompt: being friends with Chris and helping and supporting him with ASP too. When the news hit that Biden won your together and after squealing, he just grabs and kisses you.

Chris Evans brushing his heavily pregnant wife’s hair

Chris introducing you to his family for the first time

Readers reaction when Chris has to shave off his beard for a role and doesn’t tell her?

Hey i had an idea. she faked her orgasm because she has trouble cum.  Chris finds out and is angry because she hasn’t said anything and doubts his abilities?  then he brings her to orgasm

Chris playing Christmas songs on the piano while you wrap presents or something where he keeps you company while you’re doing something else

Ari Levinson Prompts

Cowboy Ari Levinson helping you out after he finds you on his ranch

Curtis Everett Prompts

Trying to have quiet sex with Curtis behind a curtain.

Frank Adler Prompts

Frank Adler gets a new neighbor - reader who is just as intelligent as his family and they like each other right away.

Nick Vaughn Prompts

Nick Vaughan keeping you company on the streets of New York

Steve Rogers Prompts

“I’m your Captain and you follow my orders!” “Aye, aye Cap’n!” “I said Captain, not pirate.”

“Hey Steve, what does a deaf gynecologist do?” “I don’t know.” “He reads lips.”

How about a drunk drabble based off of Right Girl Wrong Time by Jon Langston with Steve and Peggy

someone should write a steve and bucky threesome with a reader

“Yeah sex is great but have you just ever wanted to rub yourself over that fucking beard of Steve’s?”

I have a prompt for you. Steve has fallen in love with the Motown sound since Sam has played most of the genre for him. He has gone shopping, or gone for coffee and he hears you sing a song from the Supremes and is instantly intrigued. Have fun seducing him with music. https://youtu.be/HXGz8i0I2L0

It’s the first Christmas Steve has spent with y/n

Reader making Steve a heart cake for Valentine’s Day ❤️

Multiple Options Prompts

Can I get the following prompt with Steve, Colin, or Jensen? “In ancient Greece, throwing an apple was done to declare one’s love.” “How do I love thee, let me count the ways? Thump, thump, thump.” “So the mild concussion means you love me?”

Could I get “I see that you have your legal name listed as Y/n’s Daddy. That’s incorrect. You’re legal name is what’s on your Drivers Licence.” With any of Chris’ characters please?

SFW Prompts

For Chris or one of his characters, there is only one bed and they got to sleep far apart but wake up cuddling. Bonus points if they don’t hate it.

“Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay?!”

How about they’re roommates and “just friends” who develop feelings for each other

“You always say that, but I’d only see you for a day or two until you have to fly out again.”

“You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want. I just thought you should know.”

i have been in love with you, dumbass

“If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

I have these… powers raging around inside me, and I have no clue how to control them.

“Hey, it’s cold. Light a fire or something. I swear, you’re a cold blooded reptile.”

that guy in the gorilla costume has been following us for the past ten blocks.

going to a masquerade ball

“So, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck with me.”

“I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

“What’s with the box?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“It’s not like I love you or anything.”

Merlin quote prompt: Nobility is defined by what you do, not by who you are

“Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you love me.”

“I want to go home.” “And I want to go to the moon. It ain’t happening sweetheart. Time to accept that.”

“I just want you to know I love you and I hope these roses prove that to you.”

Prompt: “if you steal all the blankets I’m going to put my cold feet on you.”

“What have we here? Bed: unslept in. Hair in… missionary disarray. And yesterday’s dress with today’s shame all over it.” Gossip Girl

Every time I’m in the same room with her, I can’t decide if I want to pick a fight with her or push her up against a wall and kiss the fuck out of her. - Falling for My Enemy by Claire Kingsley

“The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.”

NSFW Prompts

“Wet pussy is the best. I can’t get enough of the juices dripping from my mouth.”

“She beauty, she grace, I want her pussy on my face.”

“Sheathing my cock inside you feels like a jam donut being torn in half. Delicious and mind blowing.”

Twist on quarantine haircuts: couple helping each other with pubic hair maintenance

“I don’t know if you’re looking for Aztek gold down there, but if you don’t hurry up and fuck my brains out I’ll do it my damn self!”

“Have you ever noticed how eating a hot dog is similar to giving deepthroat?” “No but thanks, I don’t want to eat this now.”

Babe I can’t sleep. I know you just woke me up. Wanna fuck? I’m awake!!!

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but I’m about to punish that sassy mouth!”

“I love your longish hair baby. Finally got something to pull while you’re between my legs devouring me.”

Holiday Prompts

“Great, now I have to re-hide your Christmas gifts.”

“I’m not going to kiss you under the mistletoe.”

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.”

“What are you doing?” “Hiding from carolers.”

“Santa’s handwriting looks suspiciously like yours.”

“Why does the house smell like a cinnamon roll threw up?”

“Are you Santa? Because I’d sit on your lap.”

“YES I BOOBY TRAPPED THE PRESENTS BECAUSE YOU DO THIS EVERY FUCKING YEAR”

“What the hell kind of Charlie Brown Christmas tree did you buy?”

“It looks like the North Pole threw up.”

i may or may not have gotten tangled up in the tinsel.

“If we don’t have this damn tree up before the end of the night, I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m going to tell Santa to give you coal.”

“It’s an advent calendar. You’re supposed to open one square a day, not eat half the chocolate in a sitting.”

“Why is there mistletoe in every room of the apartment?”

I got a little too drunk off of egg nog and vodka and you look so pretty in this light, and I most definitely want to kiss you right now, best friends or not.

we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party.

Dad!chris (or one of his characters) and his kids at Christmas

“You’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?”

Spending your first Valentine’s Day together with any character