#can’t ever decide on the dirty blonde or chestnut color so I try to do in between as well has hair style from later trimax or badlands ;;

[briizer]

It’s been 8 million years since I’ve drawn millywood

Every time he tries to look cool smoking she just appears and steals his cig

[witchy-lili]

Sander Sides Coffeeshop AU! Part 2

Well I didn’t expect part one to get that much attention..

Thank you all :)  Trigger warning : Hum, alcohol ? I guess ? tell me if I have to put something in there ! 

The first one was originally just a simple shitpost, but seeing this positivity encouraged me to write more ! So have that ! Oh and, use this song for a certain part of the chapter. Enjoy~

------------------------------------------------------

Damn was this a tiring day for the owner. Logan closed the cafe’s door after the last customer, not even turning the key, before dropping down on one of the angle sofas, sighing loudly. He lifted his rectangle glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was tired, but now wasn’t the time to sleep.

The cafe, as much as he loved it, wasn’t enough income to maintain a stable life. He wasn’t in debt, lord knows how much he hated seeking help from others. “I always counted on myself, why change now ?”. The day was not the only time he was behind a counter. After closing his eyes for a few seconds, he stood up and went to look in his bag and looked at the hour on his phone. Eleven twenty four pm. It started at one am. He had enough time to freshen up. And so he went out, his blazer on his shoulder walking under the moonlight after putting the key in his pocket.

Home sweet and dearly home. It wasn’t much, just a simple black and white apartment with hints of deep navy blue. Hanging his blazer on the hook present on the back of his door. A soft creature came, rubbing against his legs, calmly purring.

-Well hello Plato..

The cat answered with a soft meow as Logan gently patted his fluffy cream fur which composed the majority of his body. The face, tip of the tail and paws being darker, almost black, but the cherry on top was the two icey sapphires eyes, as cold as his master’s. Only the hue was different, Lo’ having more greyish eyes. Speaking of the devil, he walked up to the living room connected kitchen, taking out a can of cat food to pour it into one of his little fuff ball’s bowl then filling the second one with water.

-There you go, you cuddle head.

Question remained, why would someone who struggled with money have a pet ?

Logan was always in control, trying his best to think about the most logical and brainey solution to a problem or way to improve his life, but even he could not just walk away from a crying kitten under the rain. He remembered the day. He was still a college student, his life was a wreck, a twelve sided Rubik’s cube with the colors constantly changing every single time he moved them. It was the same period he decided to close himself off and focus on school work but even he couldn't stay unmoved by a crying dirty kitten under the rain.

He smiled thinking about it again, all the nights worrying about Plato, putting him in his sweater while he was studying just to keep him by his side, all the books he read to learn how to properly take care of a cat, all the scratches he got, but also all the kisses and head rubs. Logan absentmindedly looked at the clock. Almost midnight.

-Shit.

Who thought he could lose himself thinking about how much he loved his companion ? Now he had to be fast. He’d usually take the time to enjoy the warm water on his skin, usually hugging himself in the process, trying to emulate the feeling of a long lost embrace, but now it was pretty late. He needed to go. Where ? Well his side job. Logan quickly dried his dark chestnut hair before putting on an elegant uniform. A white shirt buttoned to the top under a navy vest and a pair of jeans. Simple but efficient. Just like he always did.

The dark haired man arrived in front of a bar’s backdoor. Just on time after a really painful sprint considering he wasn’t the athletic type. He entered and went to the changing rooms, just to put down his bag and finally go to work. That was the program, but apparently the strawberry blonde seemingly pissed man bursting in. Only a thought crossed Logan’s mind “Oh for fuck’s sake.”.

-Oh my god Lo’ you’re here i thought i’d never see the light of day !

-..Pretty normal considering it’s past one am. -Now calm down. i’ll make you a quick drink and look for your gloves, your makeup is perfect. Just go sit down.

He walked towards him clutching his arms, the barista cringed at the contact but kept a straight face before finally realising that his friend was in a long cherry red all sparkly dress and same colored heels.

-You got a representation tonight Roman ?

-Yes and it’s an ever-loving catastrophe ! I can’t close this fucking -but amazing- dress by myself, i don’t know where my gloves are and i start in five minutes ! Jesus, am i sweating ? Am i sweaty ? Is my makeup dripping ?

The usual scenario, Logan sighed before kindly pushing his friend away and turning him to, first of all, close the dress, having to stand on his tiptoes to reach the end. Roman was already a bit taller than him, but with those heels, phew, how could he even walk in these ?

Such a drama queen. Literally and mockingly. He tapped the performer on the back before straight up going to his dressing room, the gloves were just here, sitting on the edge of the mirror. Pretty sure Roman missed them because of his stress. He then went to the bar, discreetly pouring him a bottom of whisky and coming back with the two items. Blondie jumped on his heels to hug him again, making his poor friend spread his arms to avoid damaging the gloves or spilling the drink before giving them after the embrace.

-You are a lifesaver you nerdy coffee man !  

-Don’t mention it. I have to get working, good luck.

Finally. Putting on a black apron, he came behind the bar and started serving the clients. Tonight was going to be busy. Why ? Well, Roman was performing, his angelic sultry voice brought everyone in. The lights dimmed in the club, only the stage was illuminated. The singer walked in, projectors reflecting against his strass covered dress and gloves. Claps and whistles welcomed his grand entrance as he took the microphone, glazing over the room. Logan gave him a nod and a thumbs up to encourage him. The instrumental started to play.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LqbV36OhtQ&ab_channel=CalebHyles

Where have you been? Been searching all along Came facing twilight on and on Without a clueWithout a sign Without grasping yet The real question to be asked Where have I been?

The tone always sent chills down Logan’s spine. He often heard him sing, but he could never not be surprised by his talent. He forgot himself, slowly breathing, calmed by the jazzy tone of the song. Forgot himself so much that he didn’t notice the new customer sitting at the bar and calling him for the last few seconds. The barista shook his head and turned, starting his usual pitch… -Sorry for that. What can i… ...only to be met with the amber gaze of a familiar face. The man of this morning. What was his name again ? Janice ? Janelle ? Jamil ? Logan’s eyes became cold and stern again, along with his voice. -..serve you. -Looks like i was right. You’re not as boring as you seem to be. -Do you want to drink something ? I have other clients. The man in the melon hat turned his head left and right with a smirk. He was the only one sitting at the counter. -A Snakebite, if you know how to make it right. Logan raised a surprised eyebrow. It was literally two ingredients. He was clearly mocking him.  Without a word, he took the honey flavored whiskey and lime juice and put them in the shaker with some ice before energetically, well,shaking it and straining it in a shot glass, putting it in front of the snide individual then turning back to look at his friend. -Delightfull isn’t it ? I’ve rarely heard such a sultry and heavenly voice at the same time. -Well, it is Roman. They looked at each other for less than half a second before having their attention taken by the singer. Roman got compliments and flowers thrown at him at the end of his performance, and after some quick talk with fans, he sat down at the bar, sighing happily. -Damn that felt good ! Sooooo~, how are my two favorite boys doing ? Logan seemed surprised and pointed the curious man.

-You know him ?! -Yeah of course you dummy dumb ! I was the one who gave him your cafe’s address ! Ain’t he the loveliest ? -My my, thank you Romie, you’re going to make me blush. His eyes were still on Logan, still mocking him, he could have sworn even seeing this snake of a man quickly stick out his tongue to taunt him. Well. Looks like this was going to be a long night.

--------------------------------------------------------------- Surprise surprise ! You probably realized by now that I was really inspired by the talented Caleb Hyles with his “Beneath the mask” cover for this song. I just love the atmosphere. Hope you lovelies enjoyed this piece of writing ! 

[thotsforvillainrights]

~Pivitol~

[As Promised, here is the first chapter of the Overhaul Fanfic I was supposed to be working on once a week. I hope I can do a good enough job. I haven’t written a fanfic since my Wattpad days. I still get notifications from my Ticci Toby x Clockwork book XD]

Summary: The move to the city has been hectic so far. You’re new here and feeling very much alone, but you aren’t scared! People around here seem to be fairly nice to you, yet there were still mysterious people lurking here and there. So what do you think happens when you go get laundry done a block away? It can either be good or bad, but it will never be boring!

Chapter: 1

Warnings: None

“Thank you!” You cheerfully waved at the moving men when they left the last of your furniture in the living room. They were off to the next objective and you were free to unpack and unwind to enjoy your new city life. The move has been hectic you agree, but the overwhelming feeling of starting life anew was welcoming and overtly optimistic. You smiled to yourself as you sat on the plushy carpet of the living room and sifted through a box labelled ‘wall art’. Sure you were jumping ahead by trying to decorate before unpacking everything, but you just couldn’t wait to make the new apartment feel homier. Suddenly you heard a soft knocking at the door. You opened it and looked down to see a VERY short elderly woman holding a small present while a small dog was leashed next to her side. “Good evening dear. I’m the landlord at this establishment and I just wanted to take the time to give you the old welcome chat that I’ve given to all of my tenants since I started in this business. My name is Mrs. Yumine. You may call me Ms. Yumi for short. This here is my furry baby Fitch.” She said as she pointed at the cute dog next to her. “Here, these are for you dear.” She reached up and handed you the box with her short arms. You smiled and gently took the box, opening it to reveal fresh baked cookies. “Thank you so much Ms. Yumi! Also, thank you for allowing me to take up residence at this apartment complex. I have the feeling that I’m going to like living here!” You said cheerfully. The elderly woman smiled widely, her wrinkles pulling to show the cheerfulness of her face over time. “My dear if you need anything then please come see me on the first floor in apartment #6. If you can’t see me for whatever reason then please call me at either number I’ve written on the bottom of that box. Have a good evening!” You nodded and went to put the box away once the landlord had left to finish walking her pup. Eventually all your hard work paid off and you were almost finished unpacking/moving things around. You had all of the essentials unpacked save for a few items amongst the unnecessary. The only issue now was:

1.) What are you going to have for dinner

2.) What are you going to wear to bed? (unless you sleep in the nude, to which this isn’t a problem)

You sighed and looked over at the stack of dirty clothes you didn’t wash before moving here. Unfortunately you looked around and realized the apartment had no washer or dryer hookup. After some quick searching on your phone However, you were able to locate a laundromat just a block away from the apartment. “Score!” You quickly got up from your lounging spot on the couch and gathered the clothes into a basket. You made space for detergent and grabbed the keys to lock the apartment behind yourself. Walking just down the block, you managed to make it to the laundromat in just fine condition. With this section of the city being as large as it was, the crime here was moderate rather than slim. Yet you still moved here due to job opportunity. You smiled to yourself at the near empty laundromat. It was becoming evening time very soon, and eventually it would shift into night by the time you finished washing and drying your clothes. The crowd here was barren due to the time of day. It was just you, a busy mother of 2 folding her laundry by a table, and an old man snoozing in the chairs by the large window. You began to load clothing into the washer when suddenly you heard the ding of the door opening. You looked up and saw 3 rather handsome men standing empty handed as they entered. One on the right had odd silver hair in the shape of arrows that framed his handsome face ever so delicately. His eyes thin and focused, his jawline carved by God himself. Although he was dressed in a simple white hoodie, he could’ve easily passed as a model. The man on the left had a more refined look to him. His hair was a short blonde combed neatly upon his head. His glasses adorned his rather slender face perfectly. He was dressed semi casual with a tie and everything. He was the type of man you’d see in a bank somewhere. Finally your attention turned to the man in the middle. His hair was a cropped, darkened chestnut/auburn color. Three golden piercings attached to one of his ears, and a simple black medical mask covered the lower half of his face. His outfit was semi casual while formal at the same time. He wore a clack suit jacket with a dark grey button up underneath, unbuttoned at the top just a bit. There was no tie, and the slacks fit his lower form perfectly, showing off the very slightly thickened thighs. 

Perhaps the most entrancing thing about his appearance was his piercing golden eyes and his long lower eyelashes. 

Their eyes began scanning the scene, and when the man in the middle locked eyes with you then you quickly turned your attention to the laundry in front of you. His stare was burning into you, and you felt as if you were being watched since he looked at you. You nervously shifted eyes to the busy mother and noticed how she discreetly pushed her children behind her back. She then quickly proceeded to fold all of her laundry and rush out the door past the men. By now the elderly man had woken up from the sound of his washing machine beeping to signal his clothes were complete. He noticed the 3 men by the door and quickly gathered his wet clothes, tossing them into the nearest dryer, paying the change, and moving to sit on the other end of the laundromat. Apparently these men carried an aura to them that you just couldn’t put your hands on. Still, you were here to do your laundry, so you decided not to focus too hard on them...no matter how handsome and shady they may have seemed. You settled your clothing into the washing machine and inserted the change. Then you went to sit at the window where the old man originally sat. You glanced at him from the other end of the laundromat and his eyes held a certain shock or fear. Perhaps it was remorse, or maybe a warning. It was as if he was mentally trying to tell you to leave, or to sit over by him instead of being near the men. You ignored the ominous message and pulled your phone out to scroll through the notifications. You couldn’t help but to overhear some of the conversation they began to engage in. 

“I shouldn’t have to be in such a filthy area such as this. How does this pertain to the deal in any way, Kurono?” The golden eyed man asked the arrow hair. “I don’t know, but Hojo spoke of the rival gang being not too far from here. This is a good spot because it’s not expected. Just in case negotiations break down and-” 

“Shhh...I think we’re being monitored.” The glasses guy spoke to Kurono. The 3 men looked over their shoulder at you but you kept your eyes to the screen. “C’mon Nemouto, she/he/they aren’t even paying attention to us. Anyway, the deal shouldn’t take too long Overhaul.” Kurono then spoke to the golden eyed man...Overhaul. Suddenly his phone rang. He answered it, mumbling something lowly and then hung up. “Boss you stay here. Me and Nemouto are going to handle the exchange.” Then Kurono and Nemouto left the laundromat, leaving Overhaul to stand there rather awkwardly (yet still calm at the same time). After a while, you began to feel that feeling of being watched carrying on far too long. You peeked up and saw him standing closer, staring down at you intently. “Uh...hello?” You chuckled nervously. You were met with intense silence for a moment. As soon as you were about to look at your phone again, you heard him utter a small ‘hello’. You offered him a seat next to you but he hesitated at first. Ultimately he decided to have a seat, leaving an empty chair between you two for space you presumed. He also hadn’t sat until he took out a wipe and cleaned the empty seat. Then he sat down. “Pardon my curiosity for a moment, but you seem like a new face around here..” He started small talk with you. “Oh yeah, I just moved here actually! I heard there were good job opportunities here that didn’t really heavily center on the usage of quirks. Job hunting seems harder these days when you’re qurikless.” His eyebrow raised at your words. You successfully peaked his interests. “Oh, quirkless? How rare in this society. What is your name if you don’t mind me asking.” 

“It’s Y/N...Y/N L/N. What about you?” You reached out to shake his hand. He stared at your hand and looked back up at you. “You may call me Overhaul. Oh, I don’t shake hands. Too much risk involved with bacteria and such.” He said shortly. “Ah, sorry. I guess I should’ve assumed that since you’re wearing those gloves and all.” Suddenly the washer went off to signal your clothing completing it’s cycle. You excused yourself and went to load the clothes into the dryer. The issue arose when you dropped a quarter and it rolled under the machines. “Oh no! Aw man!” You sighed in defeat. You were mentally preparing for your walk back to the apartment to retrieve a quarter when you heard a clinking sound and the dryer starting up. You looked up and saw Overhaul standing there. “Thank you so much! Ugh, I’m such an idiot for bringing exact change with me. I should’ve been prepared.” You bullied yourself a bit. “it’s alright. There’s nothing wrong with being precise most of the time. Your problem just now wasn’t that you brought exact change, but the fact that you clumsily dropped it.” You laughed at his seriousness and he tilted his head. “Was something I said funny?”

“No, it’s just that you seem like the type of person to lead a group of people less serious than you are.”

“You have no idea...” He sighed and you giggled at him. Before you knew it, the men returned to retrieve him and your clothes were down drying. “Goodbye Y/N. I do hope there’s a chance we can meet again soon enough.” He bid you farewell as you folded your dry clothing. For some reason, he left your heart afloat and curiosity coupled with the need to chat with him some more had overtaken you.

“Overhaul...”

»—————————–———————————————————–✄

TIp Jar: https://cash.app/$YuTakeyama

[hellolittleogre]

Six Sentence Sunday, deleted scene 1

This was originally going to be the first chapter of With a Smile and a Song. First chapter was going to be Sam’s pov and second chapter Billy’s, but the whole thing became way too dark for the premise and also veered into territories that I as I white person and not american felt uncomfortable writing about and had not researched enough, plus again, it felt insensitive for the rather frivolous subject. And I had wanted to have Sam in it but in the end that layout turned into two characters of colour talking about a white person so I ditched the idea.  I might try to re-purpose it  later for a Sam & Goodnight (or Sam/Goodnight) story. 

The scrubland is dry for miles and miles and the sun is beating on Sam’s shoulders when he approaches the well and comes up on a brawl.

 Actually a brawl is a gross misrepresentation, what he can see is a company of ten men beating a single man on the ground. There is no reason for him to interrupt them, his errand is with another man, but maybe it’s the pitiful wail or the fleeting glimpse of a white hand, large-knuckled and bony wrists, curling around a head, in between rough boots, and in any case Sam has never been able to stick to his own business, so he halts his horse and intercedes.

“He done something?” he asks, nodding towards the prone person on the ground and the men turned around, like children with their game spoiled. He spotted a few blue caps between them, a tarnished insignia here and there, so they are army men then. The world had not been kind to old soldiers, not that it ever had been, Sam had forged himself a new life, becoming a ranger and duty sworn warrant officer, sliding like a smooth layer on top of the soldier. And now he is here, six shooters comfortably on his hips,the star on his chest, staring down a crowd of men with calm authority. The man on the ground has a grey coat, so Sam supposes the root of the argument does not need explaining.

“You know who this is?” one of them asks, a burly white man with a shock of blonde hair, bleached almost white by the sun.

Sam looks over at the man on the ground, he looks mostly like a bundle, the coat ingrained with dirt, the only thing visible a scrawny neck and that feeble hand trying to ward off the attack. He’s bleeding from his nose, streaming red across his face, dirt and blood stuck in his beard.

“Can’t say that I do,no.”

“This is the goddamn Angel of Death, Goodnight Robicheaux.”

Sam looked down on the ground again, and shrugged. “War’s over,” he pointed out mildly.

Still, whatever sympathy Sam had felt for the man dwindled away fast.  He might be on the ground now, but how many times had the position been reversed? This  man fed and clothed and served on the backs of others? It might do him good to be on the ground for a while. But all the same, if the kicking continued he would die, sure as anything. If he even pulled through now.

“War’s never over,” the man, Robicheaux says, in a voice that sounds like its coming from the bottom of a well. “...Of names once fam'd, now dubious or forgot, And buried ‘midst the wreck of things which were; There lie interr'd the more illustrious dead.” 

His voice die away in a wet hitching laugh, blood bubbling from his nose, the men look from him and up to Sam again, the blond man raising his eyebrows and Sam hitches his chin at him, away towards the horses.

“I guess we’d better get going boys,” he says, and still looking Sam dead in the eyes he aims a vicious kick, hitting Robichaux in the ribs. Sam tried not to wince at the sound, watching them mount their horses and disappear, in no particular hurry. After they have gone, there is a distinct lack of riderless horse and Sam sighs, deep and heartfelt. He supposes he might as well camp here for the night.

Dismounting he looks down at Robicheaux, he’s a scrawny white man with a narrow nose, his forehead and cheeks pink and mottled from the desert sun, with an unkept beard and dust ingrained into his greasy hair.  He’s not really sure what he expected, the tales told of a man who’d just as soon smile at you as shoot you in the face, silver-tongued like the snake in the garden of Eden. Robicheaux’s mouth is bleeding and there are bruises already rising on his cheek and temple. It’s likely that his ribs are broken.

“You alive down there?” he asks and Robicheaux opens his eyes, startlingly blue and stared up at Sam.

“”In grim array the grisly spectres rise, Grin horrible, and obstinately sullen, Pass and repass, hush’d as foot of night. Again the screech-owl shrieks……”” 

The eyes focused on Sam slowly and the man smiles at him, a horrible rictus grin made worse by the gaping black hole of a missing tooth, his eyes shining maniacally. “Every night we rise up, and up, we the colorless dead from our graves, the restless sleeper from his pallet. Once more unto the breach, once more…il faut laisser les morts ensevelir les morts…” he says, eyes staring and unseeing.  His hand on the ground have two fingers broken, already swelling.

Sam recoiled a little, that was unsettlingly morbid, coming from that grinning skull of a face,  before setting up camp and hauling water, refilling his canteens and water his horse.  It’s a fine animal, a lovely chestnut brown mare with a white star on his forehead named Comet, not that Sam ever used it, never having the need to call the horse anything. “Hey you” seemed to do just as well. The horse was usually an unperturbed sort of animal but now she was dancing and tossing her head, refusing to stand still and tugging against her picket while Sam set up camp.

He had a fire going and tin of beans nestled in the coals when Robicheaux sat upright, and Sam sighed, of course food would make the man move, but instead of coming closer to the fire Robicheaux crawled over to Comet, half lying by her massive hoofs.

“Hey! Get away from her,” Sam called suspicious, granted he didn’t look like he was in any shape to steal Sam’s horse but Robicheaux is undeterred slowly running a clumsy and shaking hand along her left front leg.

“Hush now, cher,” Sam hears him murmur, a string of soothing nonsense, “we’ll get it sure ‘nuff, so we will, yes, yes..”

“Hey, Robicheaux,” Sam calls again and ambles over, if this crazy man lames Sam’s horse in the middle of ass-end nowhere Sam is going to have to shoot him, and that’s just that.

Robicheaux is rubbing his eyes with a dirty hand when Sam reaches them, his eyes sliding away along the ground but he wordlessly holds out half a Foxtail grass awn to Sam, the sharp barbs could twist and twist into the skin of an animal, causing no end of misery.Its  obviously dug out from the sensitive area just above the hoof, Sam himself must have missed it.

“Huh, how on earth did you know that was there?” And Robicheaux looks up, gives him a smile which is nothing more than a nervous grimace.

“Horse told me so,” he says and Sam decides, what the heck, the man can have some beans after all.

Comed adore Robicheaux after that and Sam thought it was typical that a man who kept people as property would be soft-hearted about animals.

They rise at first light and Sam points towards the nearest settlement, not really willing to let Robicheaux ride double with him but also not quite willing to leave him in the dust just yet. He could hear him waking up in the night, murmuring disjointed strings of words. The moon was full and shining on them, sometimes so bright it seemed nearly to be day. His mama always said that sleeping in the moonlight would make you crazy, not that he’s sure there would be a noticeable difference in Robicheaux.

They had been making their way, Sam ahead on Comet, letting the horse walk slow and Robicheaux picking his way behind them, the sky turning a warm pink and the full moon just a faint silver disc low on the horizon when Sam spotted something ahead of them on the trail. 

It was a horse, large and grey, almost glowing in the early morning light, with liquid dark eyes and flared nostrils, the white colored mane falling silkily over the broad forehead. It whickered lowly and Sam could feel Comet answer but when he came closer it backed away, tossing its head. 

The grass rustled faintly as Robicheaux came up alongside him and walked past with one hand stretched out. The horse backed away a couple of paces before coming closer, slowly nuzzling the outstretched hand, slowly letting Robicheaux stroke its neck and flanks. Sam wasn’t sure if he really believed his eyes when it slowly lowered its head and bent the front legs at Robicheaux’s feet. The man gripped the mane and swung one leg over and the animal got to its feet, docile and tame as a cow. Sam had never believed in magic, or in his mother’s stories about Uncle Jack who trapped the devil himself in his purse, but he had to admit this was the strangest thing he’d ever witnessed with his own two eyes.

“You know horse theft is a hanging offence?”

“Good thing I didn’t steal her then,” Robicheaux answered. “No markings or brands on her. Too big to be a wild mustang and no iron shoes on her hooves.”

“Yes, but..” Sam says, in his, not inconsiderable, experience, horses don’t just turn up because you need them (he’s even sure he heard a fella in a play say something to that effect once). 

“We’ll bring her back to - and is she has an owner they’d be right pleased to see her,” Robicheaux says, seemingly untroubled about the prospect of being shot for a horse thief. It is just the first in a long string of odd animal related events as they start travelling together.

[amnachil]

The College Society Chapter 3 Part 2

Did I skip a week ? Yes. Was it on purpose ? No. Will it happen again ? Maybe.

Sorry :s

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey Monday January 21

He tried his best to stay calm. Why would he be mad ? It wasn't something important at all. And he had his cock in Amber's pussy right now. He couldn't be mad. Not before he came. Screw it. I'm mad. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey stood up, enraged.

"What are you doing ?" asked the cheerleader's captain. "We ain't finished yet. You promised me ten orgasm in one go, I got only nine."

"It was before you ruined everything." he replied. "Stupid bitch."

"Don't be vulgar. It makes me hornier."

This fuckin' little scumbag. She dares. He decided to ignore her. He put his briefs and his pants.

"C'mon Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey." she begged with a sweet, touching tone. "I'm sorry if it piss you off, but it's done now."

"You gave to this shitty Theophile your bmw and three tickets for the incoming big musical festival ! I mean, why the fuck ?"

She lowered her eyes. I don't like this. At all.

"Some people think you might be... out of touch with the prey. Look, we all know it had always been easy for you to hunt. And maybe, just maybe you got a bit overconfident and lost some skills."

The Dean's grandson hesitated. Should he strangle her or just beat the shit out of her ? He slowly put his shirt. This asshole, after all the things he did for her.

"There are bets among the hunters." she confessed, a bit scared by his attitude. "Most of us think Theo will win this. But hey, you're still the best in bed. Girls, boys, trans, you're our favorite when it comes to sex."

"You gambled against me." he realised. "That's why you helped Theo. And that's why you're distracting me here. You little dirty toad. I'm not a gigolo you can call when you want."

"To my opinion ? You should withdraw and just enjoy your already well developped sex life. Your pathetic strategy is working too slowly. Did you kiss him once already ? Theo will have him in bed wednesday night, whatever you try."

It was enough. All those stupids jerks thought he wasn't able to win the hunt ? Let's have some fun.

"Who's organizing these bets ?" he asked.

"Obviously Steve. Who else ?"

He left without a response.

When he arrived at the music club, it was running late but they were still playing some dumbshit music. Most of them were off-key, and it sounded horrible. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey waited outside until Steve noticed him. The conductor decided to make a break, and came closer.

"You want something ?"

"Hell yeah. I'm here to make a bet."

"A what ?"

"Don't make yourself dumber than you already are porker. Listen carefully jackass. I'm betting 1000$ that Theophile will just fail like the contemptible shit he is, and I'll catch the prey. Do you understand ?"

Steve blinked, shocked. Stupid pitiful bonehead. You wanted to bet, we're betting.

"Okay..." he eventually whispered. "But I can't tell you who already gambled and..."

"Don't bother cretin. I know them by heart. Theo himself, you of course, Amber, Sam from the Beta Omicron, and the professor Linda Webers, all against me. Archie gambled for me. Am I right ?"

The dumbass's eyes spoke for him. All the greedier and most sutpid hunters, except Archie. The clevers didn't gambled yet. They're too cautious. He was glad to know Summer did nothing yet. The girl might be useful soon to get rid of those hyenas.

Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey then headed straight to his apartment. At the moment, Theo probably had already invited Liam for the festival. And my baboon of a boyfriend said yes, for sure. But what about the third ticket ? Not for Laura, it wouldn't make sense... It's for Nicolas. The fatty roommate. Oh man, this greedy Theo, he wants both of them. The blond lad looked at his phone. Zack had called him twice this evening. He would talk to him later. First, the business. He dialled Nancy number and waited.

"Geek to best dick in the world, what's the matter ?" she answered almost immediately.

She had her own way to communicate. I like it anyway. My cock is one of my favourite subject.

"I need a ticket for the festival of wednesday. I know the sales are off but can you find one ?"

"Of course sir. Send dick pick or butt pick and you'll be fulfilled."

He quickly and gladly sent both. He was still a bit hard from Amber's session, Nancy would like it.

"Nice." she appreciated. "I'm adding those to my collection asap. Damn, now my ceiling is almost covered like my walls. I have too many screen of your body dude."

I wonder what would happen if someone entered her room. It wasn't his problem anyway.

"Okay... I found someone selling his ticket for 250$." she announced after a moment. "Let me see if I can do better. By the way, it seems your ass is getting rounder again."

"Yeah, I overindulged in pastries lately. Long story."

It wasn't much, but Nancy was good to notice small detail.

"Oh, there we are. A moron who wants a revenge against his girlfriend and... whatever, we don't care about the story. Ticket is bought sir. You owe me 100$, but you know how I am, you can pay in kind."

"So nice of you milady. Send the ticket and let's have some fun."

Liam Wednesday January 23

His shrink Ms. Hang and him were on their third session. They hadn't talked much during the previous one. Mostly because he wasn't inclined to. He came only because he liked the couch. And I'll have to go soon, because Nick, Theo and me are going at the festival. He intented to protect his friend, because he knew the ogre was up to something bad.

"Tell me Liam." spoke eventually Ms. Hang. "What are your favorites hobbies ?"

Sleep. Going to the gym. Sleep again. Talk with the unicorns. He didn't answer. (Now that he thought about it, there was another thing he liked lately : make blowout with Dami's bakes). (His boyfriend, even if they never really formalized the thing, was a damn good baker, and cook in general). (They had only three more date after the movie, and each time, Liam ended up stuffed like a turkey).

"You know silent is an answer ?" asked Ms. Hang. "It help me to understand you. And there is a piece of advice I can give you."

"What ?"

"You should act more like your father."

Liam feigned to sleep. I didn't hear, nanana. It was the worst advice he ever heard.

"I don't mean to do the bad things he did." she insisted. "But you sure could use some of his confidence. He's a successful millionaire, known and respected. And you are the complete opposite, a shy, dreamy young adult who flee from his problems. You can learn some stuff from him."

"It's not a good idea." he contradicted. "And I'm sorry, but I need to go."

"Of course. The session is over anyway. But think about it Liam."

He went back at his apartment as fast as possible. And he tried to not think about it at all. Be like his father ? Learn from him ? I'm pretty convinced he's with the forces of evil. I think he and the witch made an alliance to fight us. (By us, Liam meant mainly the unicorns who lived under his bed). Anyway, he changed for more causual clothes, sweatpants and pullover, and then joined Nick.

"I've a bad feeling about this." confessed this one. "I mean, why Theo invited both of us to a music festival ? Where's the catch ?"

Make you eat your content. Kidnap you. Eat you. The ogre probably planned this. But Liam would protect his friend.

"I don't know why I'm asking you. I'm guessing you didn't even realised you put your pullover backwards..."

Theo picked them up in a nice car, and they arrived five minute later. The festival took place in a vast shed and all around. Quickly, they got lost in the crowd. The junior led them towards the center, and bought them food. (Obviously he did). (Greasy, rich food). And they started to dance, and listen to some bands. Nothing seemed to happen, and Liam started to feel reassured. After all, maybe Theo was just nice ? At some point, Nick whispered to his roommate :

"You know, I'm supposed to lose weight but fuck, if Theo keep feeding me like this, I'm gonna burst."

Liam himself had to admit, he had eaten a lot too. (But far less than he could handle).

"Maybe we should go somewhere less noisy to rest a bit." suggested the chestnut lad.

He expected to put some distance between them and the ogre. If we have to run, bloated like we are, it'll be fun to watch. (He pictured to stuffed turkeys running, and it made him laugh). Anyway, they found themselves next to the toilet area.

"Good call buddy." congratulated Nick. "I'll be back."

He entered in one cabin. Liam waited a bit, looking at the crowd. There were spotlight of several colors. People were dancing with ardor. He glanced at what looked like fairies and human-butterfly. (It was a real thing).

"Baboon !"

The lad turned his head. He glimpsed Dami coming closer.

"Dude, I'm calling you for almost ten minutes now." he said once here. "Are you deaf ?"

"Maybe." conceded Liam. "Sometimes I become blind and I can't see. Sometimes I can't hear. I don't know why."

(In truth, it probably was because he just went out of touch with the real world). (Literally in fact).

Dami tried to say something, but suddenly, a girl grabbed him and kissed him with passion. She shouted :

"Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey, where have you been ?!"

And then she kissed him again. For a long, very long time. Liam watched them, a bit surprised. He didn't know how to react properly. She is... Dami tried to do something. His eyes were burning with a mix of anger and surprise.

"Let's finish what we started." continued the girl.

She tried to pull off the boy's pants, apparently ready to do... Liam couldn't stand it. He just ran. Even his slow brain could understand what it meant.

Barbara Thursday January 24

She closed a book with a sigh of relief. Military stuff could be so scary sometimes. But also very instructive. The conquest of power wasn't an easy path, but Barbara was confident. The queen of this college, this Summer, she wouldn't be a problem. Then, she would've to get rid of this abusive king, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. Not easy, but one thing after another.

"Can you give me the plate ?" asked Jessy. "I'm still hungry."

Yeah, of course she was. Back in highschool, Barbara had saw her grade fall into decadence. Several people became greedy fatties. Even now, she was still wondering if it was Raphaël's doing ? Did he have manipulated people in order to make all his rivals become worthless ? You can't be at the top when you're too fat. People judge you only by your look. A bit of chub was the sign of a weathly life, but too much was just a proof you ain't able to control yourself. If you're not the master of your body and your mind, you can't be the master of the other. Jessy just let herself go for two years now. She wasn't in the race anymore.

"So... are you seriously gonna meet the football team captain today ?" asked Jessy. "When did you became so important ?"

"Well, you know, it just happenned."

"And what about Colton ? You said you would arrange a date between us."

I said it, right. She had planned to find a cover for her since the very beginning of their relationship. When she had met Colton in 12th grade, she knew they weren't meant to be together. Unlike Raphaël, who she never truly understood, he was a simple-minded lad. Since then, she had been searching someone to replace her when the time would come. Because she didn't need him under her feet, and neither his sister, Leila.

"I'll go see him." she assured. "Don't worry, he'll like you."

"I know, everybody likes me."

In your dreams maybe. Barbara just smiled and then left. She had an important appointment after all.

She met Oliver Thompson, the football team's captain, in the library C. He was a man of culture as well as a athlete. He was famous in the university and the town, because his team had managed to go the the national each year since he was captain. That was why Barbara needed him in her side.

"Hi." she greeted and sat in front of him. "Nice to meet you."

"Same."

The lad was tall (187 cm or 6'2") and corpulent. A mix of fat and muscle very imposing. She honestly looked like a tiny little girl in comparison. I'm 151 cm (4'11") and weight around 44kg (97 pounds). Of course I can't impress people with my stature.

"You probably know that I'll be the next head of the student union." she smiled. "I'm gonna make some important change, and first of all, I want to support our most important clubs."

It was the weird thing about this college. Fraternities and sororities weren't as powerful as she thought. Many student didn't even joined them. But activities's clubs were the center of the power. If I control them, I control the university.

"It's nice." admitted Oliver. "Summer's giving us a considerable budget already, but more is always welcome. But sorry, I'm not sure you'll have the real power to do it, even as the head of the student."

"I know what you mean. It depend of the hunters right ?"

The hunters. The women and men who chased for power and sex. As far as I know, they rule the university. Summer is one of them. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey is one of them. I'm one of them.

"Exactly. Trust me, we all know the next general assembly is coming soon for the budget of the second semester. We all want our slice of the cake. But it's the community who prevails. The better hunter you are, the better are you chances."

"Even for me ?"

"Even for you. Maybe you think you'll be head of the student, but you'll have zero power if the community is with Summer. She's good ya know ? As long as the hunters respect her more than you, she still have the power."

Make sense. Barbara thanked the football player, and left, her head full of thought.

The petite blonde then attempted to her lessons. And this evening, she headed towards the pool. She had no interest at all for swimmers. They were only a few and in great majority useless. Especially this bastard, Liam. She hated him with her body and soul. To be honest, she only knew the story from Jessy, but it was enough. The chestnut brown lad had always been a bit weird. It wasn't surprising that he had tried to kill someone eventually. Anyway, she was here for Colton. Her ex-boyfriend had joined the swimming club when she had left him. A bit pathetic to my opinion, but whatever. She glanced him. Sadly, he was with this damn Liam. For a moment, she looked them do lenghts. They were both good. Colton was a bit shorter and thinner. More athletic. Liam was thicker, with a flat but slightly soft stomach. He had quite an ass, she noticed. What am I doing ? I'm not here to covet this dumb guy. Eventually, she decided to come closer.

"Colton." she hailed. "Can we talk ?"

The dark-haired lad glanced at her with a strange look. Next to him, Liam closed his eyes, maybe in order to disappear. But I can see you idiot.

"I won't be long." she assured. "I just want to introduce you to a friend of mine. I think you'll like her, and it could be good for you to be distracted. Why not next week ? I'm only worried for you, of course."

"Okay, I'm fine with it but only if I can bring a friend. Nick for example ?"

"Whoever you wants except Liam."

This latter pouted. Jessy doesn't need to see you. In fact, she might try to kill you if you two meet.

To be continued

Barbara’s pov help us to discover more about both Liam’s past and the hunter community... Where a war is starting. Will Theo surpass Dami ? Or maybe Liam will not fall for either of them. Right now, is main goal is to protect his fattened roommate anyway.

[alittletournesol]

Knit  {OnKey}

Kibum sighed as he leaned against the elevator’s wall, closed his eyes and let his arms dangle, his expensive Hermes bag falling on the floor yet he couldn’t care less. His working day had been a living hell and time had passed so slowly he had almost thought he had been cursed by a demon or something.

He actually enjoyed his job. He hadn’t spent four years of his life studying seam, fabrics and couture, including a whole year abroad to learn about haute couture in a famous French designer house, not to deserve his current status. He was still young yet his skills had been noticed enough to be recognized by a few labels, and even though his biggest dream was to own his designer house… being part of the fashion designers team of Beyond Closet was an honor.

He loved that label, it was his favorite for years and he could still remember how his first expensive purchase came from their shop : a gorgeous beige jacket from their Paris collection. He also was in love with the French city, wishing to live there one day and making the most of his job to attend the Fashion Weeks in the fashion capital…

Yes, Kim Kibum was ambitious yet a bit too dreamy according to his co-workers. It wasn’t easy to develop a designer house and since the twenty-seven years old man was more into luxury… it was even more difficult, almost unreachable. But he wasn’t someone who could give up so easily and he was always saying that even if he’s over seventy when he finally opens his house, he will do it.

The man opened his eyes and turned his head towards the mirror-wall of the elevator. He straightened up and faced it, adjusting his winter coat and styling his black hair. At least he was meeting to classic-beauty enough to become a model if he decided to give up… but it wasn’t in his plans.

On the first meetings, most people would see him as someone vain and bragging, thinking highly of himself and even able to put himself above anyone else. And to be honest, he was keeping this impression up since behind glitter and limelights, fashion was a world of sharks. To achieve his dream, he must be the alpha shark.

Kibum smiled to his reflection, his cold and closed face suddenly lightened and softened by this small gesture, before a ding informed him he had arrived at his floor. Yes, he was known as a shark in the milieu, yet he was actually the opposite. Only a few persons knew the true him and it was more than enough.

He was just a good actor and knew how to act in his own favor.

As he picked his bag up, he left the elevator and took his keys out to unlock his apartment’s door. As soon as he entered, he inhaled deeply to feel this soft home scent. His shoulders relaxed by themselves once he felt secure and able to be himself, he removed and hung his coat on the rack, heading to the laundry room to select dirty clothes according to their color in the basket before putting a load on.

It was the first part of the routine he was somehow loving more than his never ending working days, unless he was forced to do the dishes ; he hated to dirty his hands. As he opened the basket and instinctively put his arm in it to grab the first cloth… his fingers caught nothing. Kibum’s eyebrows furrowed and he glanced at the inside : it was empty.

“What the hell…” He whispered, kneeling to check if the washing machine was filled.

No clothes there either. Maybe the dryer ? Still nothing. Yet he was sure he had at least two laundries to do after he had checked the basket on the morning before leaving. The dark haired man sighed and stood up, walking to his bedroom to quickly change, replacing his work clothes with plain sweatpants and a warm hoodie.

He sighed with comfort and put his slippers on once he had removed his socks, and went to put all his clothes in the basket. He then headed to the bathroom, tending to his make up and cleaning his face from any trace of BB cream. As he put his moisturizer, he smiled : now, he was himself.

The soft guy who loved to stay home, only wearing comfy clothes and no make up on, in his boyfriend’s company.

Speaking of boyfriend…

“Baby ? You’re here ?” Kibum raised his voice, removing his lenses at the same time.

“Yes.”

A soft and unique voice answered him and he smiled as he left the bathroom, putting his glasses on and heading to the living room where the voice came from. There, sitting crossed-legs on the couch, his boyfriend was focused on his knit and that scene made Kibum smile. Knitting was actually the only fashion thing that was binding them and the young man found it… funny.

He approached the chestnut haired man to sit next to him but he stopped his movement when he noticed the iron table, unfolded in the living room and with a basket on it, filled with ironed and folded clothes. There he had found the missing clothes…

“Did you do the laundry ?” Kibum asked, raising his eyebrows with surprise.

“I did.” The other said without looking up.

“And you ironed everything too ?”

“Everything.”

“Oh. And… wait, did you vacuum the living room ?”

“The bedrooms too.”

“What about the bathroom ?”

“I moped it. Kitchen too.”

“Speaking about kitchen, I should cook dinner.”

“I ordered sushis for tonight, they will arrive at eight.”

“What about drinks ?”

“I asked for sake too.”

Kibum was in shock, speechless. Telling him everything he had done, his boyfriend was sitting there, his hands busy with his knitting and he wasn’t even glancing at him. Fine, he wanted to play that game.

The dark haired man sat on the couch and leaned backwards until the back of his head was on the other man’s hands, covering his work. His fingers stopped their fast movement and his almond shaped eyes finally look at his boyfriend’s face.

“And… what about your love for me ?” Kibum asked without hiding a smile.

“Stronger than yesterday yet weaker than tomorrow.” Jinki smiled in his turn before he leaned forward to put a kiss on the other man’s lips.

The latter chuckled to the cheesy words that were his boyfriend’s speciality, along with his questionable jokes. Jinki was the more natural person he had ever met, and it would surprise more than one person in the fashion world if they had seen them together, considering how different they could seem to people who didn’t know the real Kibum.

“Didn’t you work today ?” The fashion designer asked when the other male straightened up. “Laundries and ironing take time.”

“It’s Thursday, baby.” Jinki replied. “My day-off.”

The chestnut haired man was working in a famous music shop in Seoul for several years now, he was unbeatable when it came to the amount of CDs the shelves were proposing and most instruments they were also selling. He himself could play piano and acoustic guitar, yet he knew everything about every instrument and was one of the best advisers of the shop.

Kibum had met him four years before, when he was still a student and had just come back home after his year in France. His best friend had his birthday the week after and he hadn’t bought a gift although he had no difficulties to find an idea : Jonghyun played music for years and it was high time for him to change his so old bass. At that time, the fashion student had earned money thanks to his time in France, that had allowed him to work part-time in a designer house as one of the dressers for shows and runways’ models.

Thus, he had the money, yet he had no idea what were the decision criteria to buy a bass. He wasn’t even able to tell the difference between a bass and an electric guitar and he would have been in deep shit if Jinki hadn’t ran to him after observing him sweating for ten minutes. The sale assistant had asked him extremely simple questions about Jonghyun’s habits when he was doing music, things Kibum could answer to himself, and he eventually had advised him a bass whose price was decent.

His best friend had loved his present and when the fashion student had implied that he had actually listened to the sale assistant’s rabbiting only because he was handsome… Jonghyun had spent several weeks trying to convince him to go to the shop again. Kibum had always refused until that day in September, near his twenty-fourth birthday, when he had been brought to the music shop against his will.

Yet he could never thank his friend enough because it was that day Jinki had offered him a CD from his favorite band as a early birthday present, saying he would keep the secret. Kibum had then asked him on a date without even realizing what he was saying, and it had been where all had started between them.

They had move in together a few months ago, to celebrate their second year as a couple, and their house-life was pleasing both of them so deeply they were often wondering how they would survived this tough world if they hadn’t met.

“And on your day-off, you work at home.” Kibum laughed. “You’re a bit dumb, aren’t you ? Why didn’t you rest ?”

“I’m resting right now, you know knitting relaxes me.” Jinki said, pouting. “And I thought you would be tired since you told me today was the last alterations before tomorrow’s show.”

“Yeah, it was tiring as hell… I don’t know how I survived. Can you imagine ? One of our model lost weight ! His trousers didn’t suit him anymore and trousers are horrible to alter. And guess who was in charge of it ?”

“Let me guess. You ?”

“Exactly. What am I, a slave ? Trust me, I scolded him so hard. The poor boy is so well-shaped yet he still loses weight, he’s going to become a walking matchstick and he’s only twenty-three.”

“You sound like a worried older brother more than a scolding mom, you know. Do you even know him enough to scold him ?”

“Of course I know him, what’s his name again… Not Minho, that one is the tall handsome moron who thinks I’m his personal slave, watch me kick his ass with my Louboutin hobnailed boots next time he asks me to bring him a coffee. Shit, I can’t remember his name… I told you about him, he’s young and blonde, and his upper lip is weirdly shaped…”

“First of all, stop swearing, you’re ugly when you swear. Then, was it Taemin ?”

“Yes ! Lee Taemin ! I almost killed him when he told me his current weight. Tomorrow after the show, I’ll force-feed him.”

Jinki couldn’t help but laugh as he removed his hands from behind his boyfriend’s head, freeing his knitting at the same time.

“Tough day, then.” He stated, putting his work on the pedestal table next to the switched on lamp.

“Yeah… Thanks God I’m back home and with you.” Kibum sighed. “What were you knitting ?”

“A scarf, since your haute couture stuff doesn’t protect you from the cold I guess I have to do things my way.”

“You’re making a scarf for me ?”

“Of course baby. Slytherin style.”

“Oh my God, take me on this couch.”

“… For a scarf ?”

“Excuse me, you shouldn’t need a reason to do it in a first place.”

Kibum rolled his eyes as he straightened up, making a move to stand up when two strong arms circled his waist from behind and pulled him backwards. With a chuckle, he ended up sitting on his boyfriend’s thighs, held tight against his torso, and he turned his head to look at him.

“What time did you say for the sushis delivery ?” He asked, a familiar glint in the eyes.

“Eight.” Jinki replied as he put a soft yet warm kiss on his jawline.

“Perfect.”

The fashion designer smirked and turned over to face the other man, straddling him and crushing his lips against his as he held his well-rounded cheeks with both his hands. Jinki grunted and instantly made the kiss deeper, forcing his boyfriend’s lips open as his tongue invaded him to meet its twin. He held Kibum’s hips tight while they exchanged that kind of kisses that was always turning them on in such a short time ; wet, warm and noisy.

Soon, a familiar heat started to overwhelm their bodies as their kisses were going more and more intense, arousing them enough to almost make them short of breath. Jinki broke the kiss first to get rid of his lover’s hoodie, carelessly throwing it on the floor before taking his lips once again, his hands making their way up the naked back. Kibum’s skin was so soft… it smelled so good too…

The latter couldn’t wait more, the kiss became messy as he managed to unbutton Jinki’s shirt, his long fingers trembling with desire. Feeling his trouble, the elder helped him without separating their lips, their tongues fiercely dancing against each other. Soon, the shirt was completely opened and Kibum let his hands caress the slightly tanned skin, the tip of his fingers feeling the lines of his boyfriend’s torso.

Jinki had never been a brawny man, his abdomen was more cute than muscled yet he had strong arms and thick thighs, something Kibum adored. The latter’s arousal was going higher with the seconds passing and he left the other male’s lips to made his slide against his jawline, tracing a wet line of kisses down his neck.

There, he sucked and licked the skin, pretended to bite it while the elder sighed, his hands holding and caressing the thin waist. He closed his eyes when he felt the raven haired man going down his torso, endlessly kissing until he eventually kneeled between his legs. As Jinki opened his eyes, he met Kibum’s, sparkling with desire and that possessiveness that was proper to him.

In no time, the elder’s pants were down to his ankles along with his boxers, and the tip of his cock was the captive of the younger’s swollen lips. Without breaking the eye contact with his boyfriend, Kibum started sucking the glans, playing his tongue around it and earning a hoarse sigh directly coming from Jinki’s throat.

The latter ran his fingers through the designer’s hair, caressing them in a first place then slightly pushing the back of his head.

“More…” He moaned, his voice husky and his eyes darkened with lust.

Smiling, Kibum didn’t wait for a second order and worked his lips down Jinki’s shaft, slowly yet surely. With a muffled growl, the elder tightened his grip on his lover’s hair as he leaned against the couch’s backrest, his legs spread and one arm behind his own head. He was having troubles keeping his eyes opened since pleasure was invading him and taking control over him second by second, but he wanted to watch Kibum please him.

His cock’s thickness had been an obstacle when the dark haired male had tried to take it in his mouth for the first time, yet he was now extremely gifted to use this thickness to his advantage. As his head was moving up and down until the half of his boyfriend’s shaft, he was working his right hand around its base to strongly increase the pleasure, while his left hand was moving in his own pants, stroking himself.

Jinki sighed even deeper when a wave of pleasure shook his body, giving him goosebumps and drawing sweat out of his pores. Kibum had this amazing way to suck him off it was driving him crazy and he never needed a lot of time to come, yet it was out of the question to cum right now.

Softly, he tugged his boyfriend’s hair to make him let go of his cock, and the designer moved his lips backwards, dropping the member with a pop sound and a trail of precum and saliva taut between its head and his lower lip…

“Come over there.”

Jinki has ordered this with a soft yet husky voice that was betraying his increasing lust, and Kibum smiled as he stood up, wiping his mouth. But before he could sit on his lover’s thighs, he quickly headed to the bedroom to grab a bottle of his favorite lube — vanilla scented.

When he came back in the living room and approached his boyfriend, the elder suddenly grabbed him by his hips, making him standing still between his legs. Without warning, he approached the younger’s stomach and put his lips on the milky skin, kissing, sucking, licking it.

Kibum sighed, dropping what he had in his hands as he caressed his boyfriend’s chestnut hair, sliding his fingers in it as he appreciated the warmth of the lips against his stomach. Jinki worked his hands from the thin waist to the elastic of the sweatpants, eventually pushing them down the other male’s legs along with his underwear. The latter couldn’t help but blush yet he slightly lifted his feet to get rid of the clothes.

As they were now both naked, Jinki kissed Kibum’s abdomen before making his kisses going down his body until his lips met the base of his hardened cock. He put a soft kiss there, then grazed its entire length to arouse his lover even more. The raven haired male moaned and bit his lip when he felt lips almost touching the head of his member, literally holding onto the other’s hair to keep his balance when pleasure hit him.

Jinki smiled and made the most of his boyfriend’s disequilibrium to catch him by the hips and pull him towards him, lying him on his back under him, on the couch. Opening his eyes, Kibum smiled as he spread his legs, raising one against the backrest with his heel resting on top of it, the other one dangling. He was offering himself, and the chestnut haired man caressed his lover’s thigh, leaning forwards to take his lips with his into a rough, messy yet full of love kiss.

He had never been bothered by his own taste, Kibum always kissing him even after blowing him out. It had felt weird at first but he was now used to it, enjoying those wet kisses even more. As their tongues were messing with each other, the designer’s hands holding onto the musician’s shoulder and arm, the latter worked his free hand up the thin thigh, lifting it a bit more so his boyfriend’s butt was offered to him in a better angle.

He ran his fingers between the warm cheeks blind, his eyes still closed as Kibum moaned in their kiss when he felt his hole being tickled. His back slightly arched, his body asking for more when it knew what was coming, and Jinki obeyed this silent order as he broke the kiss to pick the bottle of lube up, generously coating his fingers with it.

Vanilla’s scent was strong yet sweet, the perfect allegory of their relationship.

Kibum bit his lip, lifting his arm behind his head while he grabbed his knee with the other hand, pulling it to spread his legs wider. Answering the invitation, the elder leaned forwards to put his lips on his boyfriend’s thigh, just a few inches above his privates. As he pressed wet and warm kisses on the white skin, he slowly inserted his lubbed finger in the younger’s tight hole, working it back and forth with an extreme delicateness.

Under him, Kibum kept his mouth half-open as a sigh turned into a low moan, his usual baritone voice going a bit more high-pitched and arousing the other man even more. Once he felt the flesh loose around his finger, Jinki pushed another on in and kissed his lover’s thigh and hipbone to distract him from the short yet sharp pain. Both his fingers were soothing him and the designer was already feeling close to lose it.

“More ?” The elder asked, his breath hot against Kibum’s thigh.

“Please…” The latter answered, pulling his knee more to support his plea.

Jinki smiled and carefully inserted a third finger, stretching his boyfriend almost to his fullest and earning a moan combining an unpleasant pain and growing pleasure. Kibum slightly arched his back when he felt as if he was being ripped for a second, yet the generous amount of lube added to his boyfriend’s expertise soothed him in no time.

Sweat was starting to run down his temple and neck as the fingers were moving inside him, massaging his prostate as if they knew exactly where to go, and he whined with disappointment when he suddenly felt empty.

“Impatient boy…”

Whispering with his husky yet so soft voice, Jinki was now smiling and staring at him with a wild flame in his eyes. Out of consideration for his boyfriend’s well-being, he generously covered his cock with lube since the lovers weren’t using lubbed condoms anymore, gently stroking himself at the same time.

Biting his lip at this view, Kibum lifted his leg from the backrest, his foot caressing his lover’s shoulder as a way to calling him.

“Will you come now or do I have to call someone else to fill me up ?” He asked, his eyes shining with lust and anticipation. “The doorbell can ring at any time, baby…”

“Not my fault if you like to take time for foreplays, love…”

Jinki had said these words while kneeling with one leg on the couch, between his boyfriend’s thighs, the other one out as he planted his foot on the wooded floor to help him keeping his balance and anticipating his thrusts to come. Kibum put his hand back behind his knee, pulling his dangled leg backwards as he put the other one on top of his lover’s shoulder.

It was like Jinki’s shoulder’s bone had been made to fit under the designer’s knee, and the musician put both his hands on the inner thighs to slightly push them apart even more. The tip of his cock approached his boyfriend’s hole, then pushed inside in a slow movement ; only the head was inside as Jinki made it move back and forth to soothe the entrance before the real thing.

“Oh God.” Kibum sighed as his free hand grabbed the armrest where he had his head resting, ready to tighten his grip when pleasure would invade him. “Come inside, please come inside…”

The chestnut haired man smirked ; he loved it when he was begged, and his boyfriend would often be impatient enough to. Yet himself was enough in love with this man to comply to everything… thus, he slowly pushed his cock between Kibum’s cheeks, relishing the sudden and warm tightness around him and the long and loud moan welcoming him.

It was the only rule the younger had established : to always be filled up to the hilt.

Soon, Jinki’s pelvis was against Kibum’s ass and he stopped there for a moment, leaning above the other male to look at him, his breath already short. When the designer opened his eyes, a flame dancing in his irises, the musician bit his lip, straightened a bit and held the leg on his shoulder as he started his thrusts.

Slow in a first place, Jinki was moving back and forth inside his partner, almost entirely leaving him to thrust deeper each time. It wasn’t as messy as their kisses, it was as calculated as Kibum’s lips against his cock earlier ; the elder was taking him slow yet fervently, playing with the whole length of his member.

Under him, his body making the couch squeak as it was sliding on it on rhythm with the waves of pleasure he was receiving from his boyfriend’s boosts, Kibum was panting. With seconds passing, he was being taken with more intensity and he had struggles holding his own leg open.

Jinki must have seen it, maybe felt it, because he suddenly put his hand on his, behind his knee, pushing himself to help him. He was now roughly thrusting between his thighs as his lover was fully stretched around him, his cock being engulfed with hunger. Slipping sounds were resonating in the living room along with both males’ sighs and moans in unison.

Sweat was running down their bodies, drop falling on Jinki’s neck and torso and making them gleam just as much as Kibum’s ; it was like their skin was encrusted with diamonds, making them reflected in each other.

“D-Deeper Jinki, deeper…” The designer asked between his sighs, spreading his legs as wider as he could.

Obeying, the elder grunted as he made his thrusts rougher, slapping sounds coming from the repeated meetings between his pelvis and the other’s ass cheeks. Kibum was losing it, not holding his loud moans back anymore. While Jinki was breathing loudly and shortly, he was moaning his name, asking him for more.

“You fucking talk too much.” The elder said as he grabbed both Kibum’s legs pushing him and almost bending him in half, allowing him to thrust in him deeper and to ravish his mouth at the same time.

The raven haired man muffled an umpteenth moan as he caught his lover’s hair, tugging it and kissing him full on the lips, their tongues dancing an ardent paso doble together. Their mixed saliva was running down their chin and the designer ended up keeping his mouth opened, letting the musician control their kiss all he wanted to, while himself worked his hand between their bodies to grab his own hardened cock.

He wasn’t seeing anything but stars, wasn’t feeling anything but a strong pleasure as Jinki’s powerful thrusts were shaking him against the couch, now wet with their sweat. Succumbing to his body’s desires, Kibum started stroking himself fast, in harmony with his lover’s movements and his breath running shorter and shorter.

Jinki himself was in his home straight, all his muscles tightening and his cock as swollen as possible. His heavy balls were smacking his boyfriend’s ass as he was taking him desperately.

“For fuck’s sake…” He swore out loud, out of intense pleasure just like every time he was close to his own climax.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna come, oh my fucking gosh…!” Kibum replied, his voice croaky and  short-winded enough for his chest to jump. “Oh my God, fuck, Jinki…!”

As he moaned his man’s name, almost shouted it, the designer’s cock shooting milky and warm cum between their torsos, spattering their shining skin and even reaching Kibum’s neck. He had pushed his head back on the armrest, offering the view of his neck’s swollen veins to Jinki and wheezing as he couldn’t keep his eyes open nor his mouth closed.

In no time the elder’s thrusts lost in speed yet grew in strength, and he rolled his eyes to the back with his throat letting hoarse sounds out as he felt orgasm invading him, his warm cum surrounding his own member as it was making his movements more slippery and deliciously wet. Kibum welcomed this new warmth in his body with a high-pitched sound coming straight from his throat, and he instinctively tightened his hole’s muscles to keep both Jinki and his seed in him.

The latter moaned to the sudden pression around his abused cock, and he slowly reduced his thrusts until he was buried deep inside his boyfriend, unmoving. Both their breaths were short, their hearts beating so fast they could hear each other’s, feel it in their veins where their skin was making contact.

Kibum opened his eyes and closed his mouth, swallowing and deeply inhaling with his nose. Afterglow was making them gleam, with their skin and their hair wet with sweat, but also with their eyes sparkling. The designer slowly raised his head to look at his musician boyfriend, who was staring at him with his eyes half-closed.

The younger smiled, his lips drawing a loving and caring smile as he loosed his grip on Jinki’s hair, turning it into a soft caress. His fingers, still trembling because of his orgasm, ran through the chestnut bangs until the man’s forehead, pushing his fringe on the side and making their way to the wet and warm cheek. The elder smiled in his turn and leaned on to put a soft kiss on his love’s lips, which welcomed it with delicateness. With only his sense of touch, Jinki felt a something rugged on Kibum’s lower lip, a cut because of a moment he had bit it too hard, and he started covering the wound with kisses.

The raven haired man chuckled and tried to answer each kiss while he was caressing his boyfriend’s hair and back, afterglow making them cuddly. When he felt the need to relax his sore body, Jinki straightened a bit yet enough to move his member backwards, leaving Kibum’s hole with a sound that made them laugh.

Then, the musician lied between his partner’s still spread legs, putting his head on his chest and slowly catching his breath. The designer smiled and kept caressing him, hugging his hips with his thighs.

“It had been a while since we last made love on the couch…” Jinki noticed, his voice low and still a bit hoarse.

“Yeah… it’s been a while with the kitchen counter too…” Kibum replied, chuckling. “I’m kidding.”

“No you’re right. But please let me rest before getting up to date, okay ?”

“I love you.”

“So do I, more than everything on earth and a bit more day by day.”

Jinki raised his head and approached Kibum’s lips with his to kiss him.

And the doorbell rang.

[salted-barbed-wire]

Lessons to be Learned

Oh God. New series. @alexispoo made me do it. (Thank you for the idea and everything. I love you.) Hope you enjoy. CHAPTER TWO WILL BE POSTED LATER TODAY! I started writing and just kept going and it was getting entirely too long. I cut it in half. You’re welcome.

Summary: School AU. 18 yo reader is attending a school where Dean Ambrose is her creative writing teacher and AJ Styles is her principal.  Warnings: None... yet. Fluff

TAG LIST: @i-kneel-for-king-loki @straight-outta-the-asylum @ridingmoxley @geekoftv @paradoxical-opheliac @ambrosegirlforver @wrestlingnoob @m-a-t-91 @livingthestrongstyle @lip-sync @princess3733 @nickysmum1909 @ambrose-asylum-ft-mitch @shieldlovereve @jubaleelovehate @xstylesxclashx @the-geekgoddess @stardustmoonlightflower @ashleyvc88 @cesaros-smile @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @alexispoo

Master List:

CHAPTER ONE

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

I bit my lip as that low, husky voice read the lines of Shakespeare’s eighteenth sonnet. He leaned against the front of his desk, one leg crossed over the other, holding our thick text book with one hand. His other hand was pressed against his chest, middle finger drumming against his collar bone keeping rhythm.

“Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough Winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm’d; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;”

Mr. Ambrose looked up from the book and pulled the glasses off his face. His blue eyes peered around the room at my classmates. My heart fluttered as his gaze lingered over me. I looked back down at my book quickly, praying he didn’t notice I was paying more attention to him than the actual sonnet.

“Now, class, who wants to take a shot at dissecting this section of the sonnet?”

Everyone was quiet. Most of my peers weren’t really interested in creative writing. They were all just taking it for the grade. I, however, loved it. Reading and learning about the greats like Poe and Shakespeare, then trying to write our own works in their likeness; it was something I’d do for the rest of my life. It was just a plus that my teacher, Mr. Ambrose was so hot.

I remember when I first saw Mr. Ambrose, I thought he was the shop teacher and was lost. He’s so gruff looking, always wearing tshirts and jeans with those work boots. Not to mention his unkempt hair and beard. I sighed, What I wouldn’t give to run my fingers through those messy curls. I fiddled with the hem of my red and black, plaid uniform skirt. Maybe while his fingers wandered over me?

“(Y/N)?” My teacher’s voice boomed.

I looked up from my book, thoughts almost shaken away as I looked at Mr. Dean standing in front of my desk. His arms were crossed over his chest, book in one hand. I could feel heat spreading across my face.

“Day dreaming again I see?” He peered down at me, blue eyes giving me an icy stare.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Ambrose.” I stumbled over my words. I could hear my classmates giggling behind me.

Ambrose sighed, “I suppose you were too busy to analyze the lines from the sonnet we just read?”

I shook my head, “No, sir. I could do that.”

He placed his glasses back on his face, one eye brow raised, “Go on then.”

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. “Well, sir, the opening line poses a simple question which the rest of the sonnet answers. The poet, Shakespeare, compares his loved one to a summer’s day and finds them to be more lovely. The poet then discovers that love and the subject’s beauty are more permanent than a summer’s day because summer is subjected to the change of seasons.”

The class was silent. Mr. Ambrose stood there, looking me over in shock. Does he really not understand that I know what I’m talking about?

“Was that not the answer you were looking for?” I asked.

Ambrose smirked, “Not the answer I was expecting, I suppose. I’m impressed.”

“I have an A in this class and have aced all of your tests and you’re just now impressed?” I leaned back in my chair. A twinge of anger caused my words to leave my mouth before I could stop them. “I guess I’ll go back to daydreaming then, unless you want to continue to try to embarrass me in front of the whole class.”

The students behind me snickered again, a few let out little ‘Ooo’s knowing that I was about to be in trouble.

“Well then, Miss. (Y/L/N). I believe I’ll be seeing you after school today in detention. You can do all your day dreaming in there.”

“Detention?” I gasped as the bell rang.

“Class dismissed. Your homework is written down on the white board.” Mr. Ambrose told his class.

I watched everyone go, “Mr. Ambrose, sir,” I slung my bag over my shoulder and got up to meet him as he sat down at his desk. “I didn’t mean any offense by what I said-“

“Save it, Miss. (Y/L/N). I’ll see you at the end of the day. You may have good grades but you need to be taught a lesson.”

-----

“Detention?” My best friend, Alexa cackled, “You, (Y/N), got detention?”

I gave her a glare, “Just because you get detention at least twice a week.”

“I’m rubbing off on you.” She nudged me. “So how’s it feel to get punished by your favorite teacher.”

I bit my lip and blushed again.

“That’s so hot.” She fanned herself.

“Miss. Bliss!” A southern drawl yelled at my friend.

Alexa and I stopped dead in our tracks. We turned to see our principal leaning against his office door frame watching the both of us. His dark chestnut hair framed the electric blue eyes stared us down.

“Yes, Principal Styles?” Alexa tried to bat her eyes at him.

“I’ve told you several times; I can tell when you’ve been rolling that skirt and all uniforms must be at the knee.”

She huffed, “Ever girl here rolls their skirt except, (Y/N).”

“And I tell every girl except (Y/N) exactly what I’m going to tell you; go to the bathroom and fix your skirt to the appropriate length, immediately.”

Alexa gave me a look that screamed, Help me out here!

“Miss. (Y/L/N),” Principal Styles rested his hand on my shoulder. “How about you explain to your friend here, the uniform standards?”

I looked between the two of them. “I- uh..”

“Perhaps you’d like to demonstrate, then?” His hand put a little pressure on my shoulder. I knelt down in between him and Alexa. “Do you see, Miss. Bliss? (Y/N)’s skirt touches the ground when she’s on her knees. I’m willing to bet yours doesn’t. Now shuffle off to the restroom and fix it before I decide to write you a one way trip to detention… again.”

Alexa huffed and rolled her eyes as she turned to go to the bathroom. Mr. Styles held out his hand to assist me as I tried to stand.

“Thank you, (Y/N). I’m glad I have at least one good example in this school.” He gave me a sideways smile. “How is your day going?”

“I-uh… um.. Well I actually got detention today.” I looked down at my feet nervously.

“Detention?” Principal Styles exclaimed. I felt him shift and he stood in front of me, resting both of his strong hands on my shoulders. “Who do you have detention with, darlin’?”

‘Darlin’? I chewed on my lower lip, “Mr. Ambrose gave me detention. I spoke rudely and out of turn.”

Mr. Styles crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I’ll have to have a talk with Dean… I mean Mr. Ambrose. I can’t imagine my star student doing such a thing.”

“But I-“

The bell rang interrupting my words. “Run along to class now, Miss. (Y/L/N). Don’t want to be late.” And he turned around back into his office.

What’s gotten into my teacher’s today?

-----

The clock ticked by slowly as I sat there twiddling my thumbs on my desk. This is the worst. How does Alexa keep getting detention after she’s had to put up with this? My eyes wandered to Mr. Ambrose who was grading tests. His shaggy, dirty, blonde hair was down and nearly falling onto the desk. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.

His curls on top of his head are so cute. The was his reading glasses almost fall off his nose. I wonder what he’s thinking. Does he even notice I’m sitting here in front of him? Doubtful. He hardly seemed to notice that I was passing his class with flying colors. I couldn’t help the small sigh that escaped my mouth.

Mr. Ambrose looked up at me. I quickly looked around the room to avoid his gaze. The panicked look and flushed cheeks were still probably noticeable.

“Is there something on your mind, Miss. (Y/L/N)?”

I gulped, unsure if I should really try to saying anything. “Detention is pretty empty today.”

Mr. Ambrose stood up from his chair and took off his glasses. “That’s because you’re the only student of mine that decided they wanted to mouth off today.” He walked around to the front of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest, “Besides, there are some… issues I think we need to address.”

“Issues?” I gulped. I was never one for being in trouble. I had always been the good girl. I was the girl that did her homework, studied for her tests, never cheated, never lied, but somehow I was in trouble with my favorite teacher.

“It’s about your homework I gave you last week.” He started.

“Did I not do it right?” I asked.

Mr. Ambrose hesitated, “No you did.” He then looked me up and down. “I have it right here on my desk. Shall I read it to you?” He picked up the piece of paper that was mine and placed his glasses back on his face. “Love is beyond time. Love is endless and boundless. There are no margins or limits. Who should be blocked by time to pursue their love?” He continued to read my lines as he walked to the door and shut it. “If one deserves love, should we be kept apart because of age?”

I could feel the heat on my face return as he turned and looked at me from over the top my paper. Something in my belly churned a bit.  He waited for me to say something, but I couldn’t. He knows I wrote that for him.

Mr. Ambrose walked back over to his desk and set the paper down and his glasses, “I don’t think I should continue. Do you?”

I shook my head.

He sighed, “Miss… (Y/N) who is the object of your poem?”

My heart was racing. The disbelief of finally being confronted with my fantasies was going to get me kicked out of my favorite class. “I don’t know.” I finally managed in a whisper.

The classroom was beginning to spin. I looked down at my desk and felt the tears start to well up in my eyes. He really does like shaming me, doesn’t he? I hurt all over. The sound of his footsteps drew closer to where I sat. I didn’t want to look at him.

“I think you do know, and you just don’t want to tell me aloud.” He whispered back.

I closed my eyes, just wanting to wake up from this nightmare. I have to be dreaming, right? This can’t be real. He can’t know how I feel. Why did I think it was okay for me to write that? Why did I think it was okay to turn it in to him? It’s not like he hasn’t been taught how to analyze prose. He’s done it for years! It’s his job!

Mr. Ambrose’s hand reached out to my face. His fingertips lightly pressed against the bottom of my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “(Y/N),” his voice said my name soothingly. “How old are you?”

My eyes widened, “Wha- Wait, What?”

His thumb brushed my cheek, “How old are you, love?”

My breath hitched as the warmth of his touch sent shivers throughout my body. “I’m eighteen, sir.”

The side of Mr. Ambrose’s mouth twitched up into a smile, “An adult.”

Hesitantly, I nodded, “I try to be, sir.”

“Then, as an adult, there is something I need you to do for me.”

Those blue eyes were beginning to look like the ocean on a stormy day. I was terrified, yet, excited. “What is it?”

“I need you to tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable but promise me that whatever happens in here,” He looked me up and down. “It must never leave this room. Do you understand?”

I nodded.

“You have to use your words, love.”

“Yes, sir. It won’t leave this room.”

His grin widened, “Good girl.”