#well that was a very fun burst of creativity of a weekend
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intotheelliwoods · 5 months ago
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I think it would be REALLY funny if, whenever Toast unfuses, the clothes are still there and Poptart and Sprout always get tangled in them each time
+ bonus toast
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thefrogdalorian · 8 months ago
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Hi Spud!
Spreading joy into people's inboxes like little boops is a really lovely idea. Somebody could be having the worst day and suddenly it's made a little brighter with a lovely message in their inbox, which is a really beautiful thing! Of course, I wanted to spread this joy back to you as well!
I absolutely love the aesthetic and theme of your blog, and the image of Din with a little frog on his shoulder never fails to make me smile! I also really love your writing style, your stories on ao3 have so many unique and creative ideas. They always leave my heart feeling full! One that really stood out to me was "The Meiloorun Fiasco", which is now one of my favourite dinbo fics!
I remember a while back on discord you said that you're a Coldplay lover too! Your taste in music is amazing 🎶 I also remember you said you were at the same Coldplay concert as me last year in June, and I find it crazy how you can be standing in the same room/stadium as someone and then suddenly find them online in the same fandom as you. Coldplay have some dinbo songs too!
It's always a pleasure to read your posts and interact with you, and I'm very happy I found this corner of the internet. I hope you have a great evening and an amazing rest of your week! 🫶
AWWW this genuinely made me smile so much! I've barely had a chance to check tumblr properly until just now (been busy by my standards ahaha), but my heart did a little jump for joy when I saw you'd left this in my inbox and I had a massive smile on my face while reading it!
I'm glad you like Din and his tiny froggy friend heheh. I keep thinking I should change my theme up a little bit but I'm too emotionally attached to it now. Plus he suits pink so much!
I'm so glad to hear that you enjoy my writing! I honestly have 0 thoughts, head empty about 99% of things lmao but I get random bursts of inspiration sometimes. Especially with the Meiloorun one. It was so silly but also so much fun to write! And I'm so glad that you enjoyed it!
YESSS you also have great music taste! Our stats were so similar, I think The 1975 were up there too👀! I mean who doesn't love Coldplay?! They're so iconic and I'm so glad I got to see them last year. I went to some great concerts last year too and also have some cool ones lined up this year (including Taylor WOO!) but they will take some beating. They put on such a good show! And YESSS the Dinbo songs. I always think of them when I listen to Sparks :')
It is so weird to think we were there singing along to the same songs and then we found each other again online. Very glad our paths crossed like this. Maybe one day they will again. Who knows!!
Anyway, thank you for sending such a sweet message back to me. I was not expecting that at all, but it means the world that you took the time to spread some kindness back to me. You're a gem and I hope you are having a lovely weekend!🥺💖
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ithinkabouttzu · 2 years ago
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hey hon !! I saw you were doing ships so I figured to submit one ( TP and/or BoB :) )
To get appearance out of the way — I’m 5’7, with short curly dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. I wear glasses, so I love being completely unable to see without them (/s)
I enjoy most if not all forms of creative expression, but writing is the main focus. I’m currently working towards getting my masters in English, so there’s that. That being said, I am also self-taught in art and music, and used to play soccer as well. I really enjoy painting and playing piano primarily :)
Personality wise my MBTI changes all the time so literally all I can put is “XNXP” truthfully — but beyond that I tend to be a pretty blunt and straightforward person. I’m pretty sarcastic and teasing especially with my friends. I’m very openminded and will try anything at least once. I know that the people in my life tend to see me as someone they can go to for advice / solutions because I don’t like to sugarcoat and they expect that sort of honesty from me.
My love languages are acts of service and physical touch especially. I don’t come across as huggy in real life but I am, in fact, very huggy and like to be useful so there’s that. I always felt that Actions speak louder than words when it comes to expressing appreciation, at least from my standing.
Yes thank you so much for your request! Btw I LOVEEE your fic Sad, Beautiful, Tragic. it’s so good omg (Also so sorry about the long wait!)🙃🧡
I ship you with…
Lewis Nixon!
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Song recommendation: Perfect - One Direction
- Okay bestie hear me out, but when I was reading your description Nix just popped into my head, Some of the things you mentioned just reminded me of him, and not just that but I think your vibe matches him a lot!
- When he first met you, he would he more calm about his feelings towards you, he’d think to himself like, “Dang, they’re hot” but then I think he would try to dismiss it, he’s seen you around the town before but hasn’t made a move on you yet, just because you’re one of the first people who actually makes him a little nervous
- and also there was another thought in his head that you might already have someone (cause i mean cmon, you’re obviously super attractive, why wouldn’t already have somebody?) and wouldn’t want to be disrespectful towards you if you did already have a partner.
- But I think talking to you would be inevitable at some point, like he can’t just walk around you with out saying something to you forever, you guys would be at a bar or something on the weekend, so you already know it’s PACKED, and you go up to the actual bar to get a drink and that’s when you accidentally bump into him
- You immediately say sorry to him, and he’s just like 😳, he did NOT expect to see you there that night and he was totally unprepared (and we already know this man hates being unprepared)“Are you okay” You would smile at him, and then he’d snap back into reality like, “Oh, yeah, i’m great” His confidence would just burst out of his chest at that point. “How bout I buy you a drink?”
- I think then you guys would be talking all night long, til the bar closes at least. he’d even make sure to not drink too much that way he wouldn’t be blackout drunk in front of you and could talk to you in a somewhat sober way
- Y’all have that fun sarcastic humor so y’all would just be laughing it up in the bar before closing time. It was probably one of the nights where he genuinely had fun talking to someone (other than Dick ofc)
- Just in general though afterwards you guys share that same type of humor, like you guys love to joke around and tease each other, almost like best friends would. Like banter is used A LOT in your guys’ relationship, you guys also know not to take it too far so when you guys do joke around it never actually does turn into a fight/argument.
- you guys are both a very smart couple, but he finds you brilliant, How you can just write up a whole page of words in a couple minutes, is a whole SKILLL to him, he always asks you to read what you’ve written to him after you’ve finished too (if you’re comfortable with reading it ofc)
- he’s almost a little jealous of how smart you are, you’re wayyyy more creative then him and he loves your open minded attitude. When he has a question about anything musical or literature he’s going straight to you to ask.
- He also loves hearing you play piano, he might even ask you to teach him some basics if you want to, it’s so soft and melodic to him he just can’t help but feel peaceful when he listens to your playing, really just any other piece of music you play.
- Both of you have this thing, where you guys aren’t super huggish in public, but when you guys are with each other, y’all are so loving and it’s so cute 🥹 like both of you can leave this adorable side of you, just for the other person to see and it’s heart MELTINGGG
- Lew usually likes to keep the pda minimal around people or in the public, only holding hands, or a hand around your waist, But when you guys are together in private, he’s so much more affectionate to you like cuddles and everything 😭 you see this side of him that he barely shows you anyone else, like this cute and giggly side of him omg.
- He’s also is big about showing you that he cares about the little things in your guys relationship. Like if he stops by a shop and sees a bouqet, with your fav flowers he’ll get them for you, or if you’ve had a bad day he will sit and talk with you and will be there for you in the best way he can.
- he can be a little awkward when it comes to expressing his feelings to you, even though he totally loves you, he feels like he doesn’t ever know what to say, but you never hold that against him, he always try his hardest to show you that he loves you in other ways then just words.
- You like painting? please show him how to paint and he will be GLAD to do it with you sometime, That would also be such a cute date idea, like you and him painting with eachother and then showing one another their finished product after. Your painting would of course look better then his but he would never admit that 🤣
- And if any of the guys need some advice? They’re going straight to you guys if they want the full and honest truth. Y’all are the “OG couple” to some of the younger guys so if it’s anything having to do with relationships and they need some real advice, then they’re going to you guys.
- date nights with this man are always so fun! He can always find things that both you and him enjoy to do and will arrange everything! Honestly for dates your job is to just be there while he does everything else 😭
- But if you try to help him with anything he will not let you at all LMAO like he just wants to treat you like full on royalty and that means you not having to move a single inch for anything the whole entire time, just in general he’s more of a romantic, like giving you his jacket if you’re cold, opening doors, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, little things like that he really enjoys doing for you.
- When he finds out you used to play soccer he is SHOCKED, like he’ll ask you how good you are at it and little questions like that, you might even play him a little bit and just show him the basics of the sport 😭 one thing that he can’t wrap his head around is the fact that you can’t use your hands at all, and if you beat him in a one on one match he will definitely blame it on the fact that he can’t use his hands, “I can’t just use my feet, I feel like i’m gonna trip over this ball!” BAHAHAHA
- But you guys would be so perfect together, like it’s almost like dating your bestfriend, the chemistry is PHENOMENAL and when you guys are together it’s just so natural, neither of you have to act any different then how you guys already are, This relationship overall would be so so nice omg.
Thank you again for your request lovely! I had so much fun making this and i hope you enjoy!! 💛💖🤭
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cheri-translates · 4 years ago
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[CN] Shaw’s Creative Date
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 创意之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒
This date features S2 Shaw, but contains no spoilers for S2!
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[ This date was released on 13 May 2021 ]
Removing the VR headset, I rub my slightly sore eyes. Seeing the familiar modern furniture leaves me in a momentary trance.
MC: I finally cleared it - this game about the ancient times is pretty immersive.
Aside from completing missions, the game also has a rich plot written in a classical literary style. As a “workshop apprentice”, I successfully created a string of wood carved persimmons.
Rotating my aching wrists, it’s as though the sensation of carving products is still lingering on my hands.
MC: It’s a shame that I could only do that in the game...
Just when I’m about to continue grumbling, my phone suddenly rings.
Tapping the answer button, a familiar voice drifts lazily to my ear.
Shaw: Not a sound from you even during the weekend. What are you up to?
MC: I just played an immersive game, and it’s pretty fun.
At the other end of the line, Shaw makes an “oh” sound, then continues asking.
Shaw: Are you planning to stay at home today?
MC: Mm. I finally finished a big program, so I’m pretty comfortable playing games at home.
Hearing my response, Shaw’s tone lifts slightly at the end.
Shaw: It’s just a game. You can play it anytime, can’t you? The weather outside is great. Staying at home is such a waste. Why not take a stroll outside?
My gaze sweeps over the VR headset. While I’m hesitating whether or not to agree, a thought suddenly flashes across my mind, and I have an idea. 
MC: Shaw, why don't you accompany me somewhere?
Shaw pauses for a moment, his subtle breathing drifting over the phone along with the electric currents.
Shaw: Where do you want to go?
MC: I’ll keep it a secret first. You’ll know when you get there. It’s definitely a place you wouldn’t expect.
Shaw chuckles softly, and he seems to stretch.
Shaw: All right. Since you invited me with such magnificent hospitality, I’ll reluctantly keep you company.
-
Soon after, the both of us stand at the entrance of a wood carving studio. Shaw tilts his head, looking me up and down.
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Shaw: You sure we’re not at the wrong place?
I nod my head.
MC: How is it? I already said you definitely wouldn’t expect it. 
Shaw arches his brows, a somewhat surprised expression in his eyes.
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Shaw: When did you get a new hobby?
Not giving Shaw a direct response, I lift my hand, raising my phone to his face. The picture on the screen features the string of wood carved persimmons I made in the game.
MC: Look at this string of persimmons. I carved it bit by bit in the game. Looks good, doesn’t it? I plan to carve a replica based on this later.
Shaw leans closer to give it a sweeping glance, his expression a little subtle.
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Shaw: ...the object in the picture isn’t too bad. But do you like it that much that you must carve a string of persimmons?
MC: Don’t underestimate this small string of persimmons. Slow work yields fine products. The smaller something is, the more patience and carving skills are tested. Also, this is the first wood carving I made in the game. Furthermore, “everything will go according to one’s wishes” is a wonderful message and well-wish. Making it myself will feel very meaningful.
[Note] For the translation of “everything will go according to one’s wishes”, What MC says is “柿柿如意”, which is a pun based on the popular well-wish “事事如意” (“everything will go according to one’s wishes”)
“Persimmon” is 柿 (“shi”). “Everything” is 事事 (“shi shi”)
Shaw: But based on the level of complexity, you can’t make it without having a foundation in carving.
Predicting that Shaw would say this, I make a fist, lifting my head up confidently. 
MC: Don’t underestimate me. I think I’m naturally talented in handwork. If I can make it in the game, I might be able to in reality.
Hearing my “lofty aspirations”, the corners of Shaw’s lips hook upwards, and he elongates the tail of his sentence coolly.
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Shaw: Fine, I’ll wait and see. 
-
Probably because it’s the lunch break, only the boss is in the shop.
After telling the boss my purpose in coming, he very quickly prepares the wooden block and burin, then comprehensively explains some matters I should take note of.
[Trivia] A burin (刻刀 - “ke dao”)  is a handheld steel tool used for carving metal or wood
MC: Draw a design first, then trace a copy onto the wooden block, then...
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Hearing me mumble to myself, Shaw can’t help but arch his brows.
Shaw: It’s no use simply memorising the steps. You’ve got to get started to get the feel of it. 
...that make sense.
Very soon, I successfully draw a design based on the picture. However, I keep sensing that something’s missing when I look at the picture of the string of persimmons in my hand.
Darting a glance at Shaw, who occasionally looks at the drawing paper in my hand, I turn my body to the side, displaying the drawing paper in front of him.
MC: Shaw, didn’t you brag about being the “best in hand-drawn sketches” in your department? Want to take a look and make adjustments for me?
[Note] For those who are unaware, Shaw is the only graduate student in the archaeological department of Loveland University, so... of course he’s the best in everything LOL
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Shaw’s brows arch slightly. Grabbing a pen on the table casually, he starts making amendments quickly.
Shaw: Done.
Unexpectedly, with just a few strokes, the fullness and lushness of the persimmons are outlined, and the entire picture instantly becomes much more vibrant.
Once all the preparatory work is done, the next step is to saw the sides of the wood carving. Placing the wooden block on the machine, I test out suitable positions.
All of a sudden, Shaw presses on my hand.
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Shaw: Didn’t the boss mention that it’d be safer to place it a little beyond the peripheral line?
While saying this, he pulls on my wrist, causing the wooden block to shift to the side slightly. After verifying that it’s in the right place, he releases my hand.
Wood carving in real life is much more difficult than I imagined. The more I tell myself to be calm, the more my hands refuse to obey.
I take a deep breath - 
Shaw: Tch, aren’t you going a little too fast?
Right after he finishes speaking, my hand suddenly trembles, and I saw a small hole into the wooden block.
Shaw pauses for a few seconds, then bursts into laughter mercilessly.
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He leans over, pointing at the small hole, his eyes gloating over my misfortune.
Shaw: Heh. Did someone take a bite out of the persimmon? It’s actually pretty creative.
Faced with Shaw’s mockery, I pout without saying anything. Then, I mimic his usual tone and glare at him.
MC: Why are you laughing so loudly? My hearing is good, okay.
Shaw casually props himself on the table with his elbows. He turns his head to the side and watches me, eyes filled with interest and a smile.
Perhaps because we’re too close in proximity, I seem to feel his warmth encasing my surroundings.
Smelling the scent of peppermint at the tip of my nose, I subconsciously turn away, muttering softly.
MC: Stop crowding over here... it’s a little warm.
The corners of Shaw’s eyes lift upwards slightly, and he sweeps a gaze over my face. He chuckles, sitting down on the chair behind in a wilful manner.
Not long after, I painstakingly saw the overall outer shape of the wooden block. After that, I start using a chisel to carefully craft the outline and thickness.
Probably because I’m unfamiliar with the techniques, the thickness of both sides of the wood carving are very different despite me putting in a lot of effort into correcting it.
I steal a glance at Shaw who is behind. After some hesitation, I clear my throat.
MC: Erm, could you help me with a little something?
Shaw loosens his shoulders.
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Shaw: You want my help?
MC: Since you look like you don't have much to do, why not adjust the thickness of the outline with me?
Shaw doesn’t respond immediately. He folds his arms and leans against the wall, both legs placed casually.
Beneath the sunlight of the scorching afternoon sun, the corners of his lips tilt upwards, revealing a mischievous smile.
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Shaw: Someone made a solemn vow earlier that she could do it by herself. So, in order for you to experience this fully, I refuse.
I don’t even spare Shaw half a glance after this, heart sinking as I lower my head in silence, focusing on the wood carving alone.
Perhaps grasping some tricks, my actions are gradually much more proficient than before, despite slow improvement.
The doors to the shop are suddenly pushed open. A parent walks in with a little boy.
The boss greets the new customers. Shaw suddenly lifts his arm and waves, walking over to the boss.
Shaw: Boss, give me a burin too.
Thinking that Shaw was suddenly “pricked by his conscience” and is planning to help, I lift my head to look at him in anticipation.
Unexpectedly, after getting the burin, Shaw picks up the leftover linden wood that I had sawed off earlier.
He stands near the window, lifting his hand leisurely. Against the light, that head of bluish purple hair is even more eye-catching.
Shaw: It’s boring to wait. I’ll try it with you, and give you some competitive motivation.
He reveals a confident smile, his tone not at all humble.
Shaw: I’ll also show you what it means to be “naturally talented”.
Shaw deliberately sits down at a table that’s further away from me.
Seeing that my gaze continues to linger on him, Shaw lifts his eyes, asking teasingly.
Shaw: Why are you staring at me?
MC: ...you already know the answer. Also, you’re pretending to be mysterious. What exactly do you plan to carve?
Shaw: You want to know? All the more reason not to tell you.
With this, he lowers his head, the tip of the pen making rustling sounds. He’s likely drawing a design on the rough paper.
Pursing my lips with a “hmph”, I decide to throw myself into crafting the wood carving.
Just as I strive to painstakingly carve the appearance of the wood carving, the little boy who accompanied his parent here seems to be restless.
He runs around the shop, and finally scuttles to Shaw’s side.
Little Boy: Big Bro, your hair’s really cool!
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Shaw releases a “hmph”, paying no attention to the boy. But the little boy is fearless, and continues curiously.
Little Boy: Big Bro, what are you carving?
Unintentionally hearing this, I hurriedly perk up my ears, turning my body towards Shaw secretly.
Shaw glances at the boy from the side, placing the prototype wood carving on the table and leaning it from side to side.
Shaw: Make a guess.
The boy stares at it for a while, then exclaims excitedly.
Little Boy: I see it now - it’s a fish! Big Bro, did I guess correctly?
Shaw doesn’t deny it, revealing an expression which says “you’re pretty knowledgeable”.
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Shaw: [aww he sounds so affectionate] Little Imp, your eyesight isn’t bad.
Little Boy: But why do you want to carve a fish?
The boy doesn’t seem to understand, and is also slightly disdainful.
Little Boy: Fishes are so unimpressive. If it were me, I’d carve a big tiger. It’s the king of all creatures, and it’s so impressive!
While the boy speaks, he chuckles in satisfaction.
Shaw laughs, then purses his lips.
Shaw: A wooden carved fish is much more interesting than your big tiger.
The boy has an expression on his face which reads “nonsense”. Shaw casts a sidelong glance at him, scoffing softly.
Shaw: Forget it. You wouldn't understand even if I told you.
Little Boy: Who says I wouldn’t understand? I’ve already learnt many things!
The boy grumbles in dissatisfaction, his arms akimbo, pestering Shaw unflinchingly.
I try my best to control the smile at the corners of my lips, and suddenly have an idea. Clearing my throat, I pretend to be a bystander, inserting myself into the conversation.
MC: What this little boy said is correct. Young man, you can’t look down on others just because you’re older by a few years.
Little Boy: Hmph! That’s right!
My “encouragement” enables the boy to be even less willing to back down, and he purses his small mouth.
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Shaw: Oh?
Hearing my response, Shaw lifts his eyes, a mischievous smile curling the corners of his lips upwards.
Shaw: What is it? You also want to know?
MC: Since you started it, it’s only right for you to talk about it more.
Shaw: Since the both of you are pretty eager to learn, I’ll broaden your knowledge.
-
Next to the window, the rays of light are bright. Shaw arches his brows wilfully.
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Shaw: To put it simply, this is related to the history of “fish culture”. Since ancient times, fish have represented auspicious signs and well-wishes.
Little Boy: I know about this! Is this how people wish each other “may you have abundance year after year”? I heard my teacher mentioning it before. It’s because “鱼” and “余” are homophonic!
[Note] The well-wish the boy is referring to is “年年有鱼”, which is a pun based on the proper saying “年年有余”
“Fish” is 鱼 (“yu”), while 余 (also “yu”) means abundance
Shaw: In that case, your teacher only told you half of it.
Shaw fiddles with the burin in his hand, spinning it casually.
Shaw: Fishes are an embodiment of luck. Patterns of fish can often be seen on antiques.
MC: What’s the origin of wooden carved fishes then?
Shaw pauses for a second before responding.
Shaw: Over seven thousand years ago, the most ancient wooden carved fishes were in the Hemudu culture. Based on conjectures, they were likely used for praying and well-wishes.
[Trivia] The Hemudu culture was a Neolithic culture spanning from 5500 BC to 3300 BC, located south of the Hangzhou Bay in Jiangnan in Zhejiang, China
Shaw speaks indifferently, but the boy listens at the side, his eyes wide.
Little Boy: Big Bro, you really know a lot! You’re even more incredible than my teacher!
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The corners of Shaw’s lips hook upwards with pride.
Shaw: I guess so. Little Imp, remember to read more books and learn properly.
The boy runs away contentedly. My gaze lands on the wooden carving in Shaw’s hand that I can’t see quite clearly yet.
I didn’t expect the wooden carved fish to have the same symbolism as the string of persimmons. I tilt my head, feeling slightly emotional.
Time flows by as the seconds and minutes pass. Before realising it, the sky dims, and the studio lights are bright.
Swinging my hands which have almost lost all physical strength, I release a long sigh.
At the other side of the table, Shaw lifts his chin towards me.
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Shaw: Progress isn’t going smoothly? 
Looking at the half-finished product with uneven contours next to my hand, I shake my head a little despondently. 
MC: Looks like I won’t be able to finish it today, and would have to come back next time. Also, the actual wood carving is light-years away from what I expected...
Hearing my soft grumbling at the end, Shaw arches his brows.
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Shaw: Just by looking at it, the string of persimmons isn’t easy to make. But you dug this pit yourself, so I’ll wait and watch you fill it up.
Ignoring the teasing tone in his voice, I purse my lips.
MC: I definitely won’t give up. What about you? Are you done with the carving?
Shaw has an expression which reads “of course”, and he nods unhesitatingly.
Shaw: It was done a long time ago.
I’m stunned for a moment, both surprised and curious.
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One hand supports Shaw’s cheek lightly. With a stretch of his long arm, the wooden carved fish is brought before my eyes.
This is a bright coloured wood carving of a fish. It has a roundish head and a chubby belly, and looks extremely adorable.
I lift up the wooden fish sculpture with both hands, as though instantly struck by its adorable shape.
Shaw: Excellent workmanship with profound symbolism. Your goal has been overtaken by me.
Behind the table, Shaw arches his brows in satisfaction, casually twisting the burin, his pose utterly flamboyant.
Even though his carving is indeed not bad, the moment I lift my eyes and see Shaw’s insuppressible pride, I can’t help but remain silent.
With the sudden impulse to sing a different tune, I deliberately purse my lips, speaking calmly.
MC: It’s just like this I guess. In terms of exquisiteness, I’d give a passing mark at most.
The smile on Shaw’s lips retracts slightly. While looking at me from the side, he releases a “hmph” from his nose.
Shaw: You have the nerve to criticise me? Why don’t you look at your own standard. Also, this is my exclusive design. It’s much more creative than you making a duplicate from the game.
Hearing the unwillingness to back down hidden in his tone, I can’t help but smile secretly.
Shaw glances at me indifferently. He seems to catch the secret smile on my lips, and an indiscernible light flashes across his eyes.
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Shaw: Hey, shouldn’t you return it to me after touching it for half a day? You don’t like it anyway.
MC: Who says-
Almost making a slip of the tongue, I hurriedly change my words.
MC: Actually, on closer inspection, it seems that your carving is pretty okay.
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Shaw: Just “okay”?
MC: ...I’ll add one mark for its symbolism and origin then.
Pleased with this, Shaw rolls his shoulders, chuckling softly.
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Shaw: You still have some taste.
He crosses his leg over the other, his eyebrows suddenly furrowing. He seems to blurt out what’s in his mind.
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Shaw: But the head of this fish seems a little too round... Hm, it’s a little irksome. Looks like I need to make some corrections.
MC: No it isn’t? It looks just right like this!
Afraid that Shaw would snatch it back, I hurriedly fold my hands over the wooden carving, and notice a hint of slyness in his eyes.
He leans closer abruptly, instantly closing the distance between us.
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Shaw: Looking at your posture... What is it? Can’t bear to return it?
Specks of bright light reminiscent of daytime dance on Shaw’s bluish purple hair, outlining his expression and making it look even more triumphant.
I blink my eyes.
MC: Since you’re already done, I think I should observe it for a while longer, and have some “luck” rubbed off on me. I might even be able to quickly and successfully finish my wood carving too.
Shaw turns his head, the corners of his lips turning upwards relaxedly. A pondering smile surfaces in his bright eyes.
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Shaw: You’ve got taste. If you really like it, it’s not that I can’t give it to you.
My heart stirs, eyes widening as I look at him. But I have the feeling that there should be a second half to his sentence.
Shaw leans back relaxedly, stretching casually.
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Shaw: But I need to make up for the costs.
...just as I guessed.
Cradling the wooden carving in my hand, I lift my chin towards Shaw.
MC: Go on, what’s the “fee”?
Shaw lowers his head, pretending to deliberate for a few seconds. Then, he lifts his eyes, meeting mine.
Shaw: When you’re done with your wooden carving...
Shaw: It belongs to me. 
[Note] There are actually two ways one can interpret this line because it’s kept purposefully vague. It’s simply “归我”, which means “belong to me”. This means we can’t be sure if he’s asking for the wooden carving or MC herself :>
Shaw: How is it? Isn’t it very fair?
Light falls on the tips of Shaw’s hair, reflecting a bright and sly smile in his eyes.
Before I can react, he has already stood up.
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Shaw: All right, that’s how it’d be.
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🐟 Phone call: here
🐟 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!
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tsukishumai · 4 years ago
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First Kiss Scenarios- Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Matsukawa (Aoba Johsai edition!)
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OIKAWA ��
The weather was particularly beautiful when Oikawa had taken you out to see the cherry blossoms. One 25 minutes train ride had taken the two of you to a park you had never been to before, but Oikawa had told you about many times.  
This was probably the fourth weekend in a row that Oikawa had shown up at your door, insisting that you go and get ready because there’s this place that he just /has/ to take you to.
You take one look at his face, always plastered with excitement, and there’s just no way that you could say no.
Oikawa is fidgeting next to you; if he wasn’t pulling at the hem of his shirt, he was tugging his collar, or running shaky fingers through his brown hair.
“Are you alright?” you asked, and he jumped at your voice, nodding as his cheeks begin to flush.
“Yeah, of course! Why wouldn’t I be? You… look really nice today.”
You brush your fingers at the new accessory that draped across your neck; a sunflower pendant that hung from a golden chain, smiling at the memory of Oikawa stuttering as he insisted you wore it for today’s outing.
“Thanks… What’s got you all blushy blushy?” “I am /not/!” “You look like a tomatokawa!”
He shoved you lightly, chuckling as you stumbled to the side. “You can’t just add –kawa to any word, that’s not very creative.” You smiled, making your way back next to him and looping an arm through his. “It’s worked pretty well for me so far.”
 Oikawa stilled next to you, stopping his footsteps abruptly. You were about to question him, but instead, admired the view of cherry blossoms dancing around in circles as the wind blew around you.
“It’s really beautiful up here. Thank you for taking me –“ “Willyoubemygirlfriend?”
You blinked once. “What?”
You watched Oikawa turn an impossible shade of red, stumbling over his words as he tried to pick the right ones to say. You never thought you’d see the “Great King” Oikawa, usually so smooth and suave, turned into a stuttering, blubbering mess and you thought it might just be the greatest thing you’ve ever seen. “Shit, I messed that up. Wait, let me start over, I had a speech, if you could just – “
You pulled him down by the collar he had been messing with the whole morning, and placed a soft kiss on his lips, smirking in satisfaction when you see his eyes widen.
“Yes, I will be your girlfriend.”
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IWAIZUMI –
You have always loved watching Iwaizumi play.
You’ve known Iwaizumi since you were first years; he was assigned to be your lab partner, and the two of you hit it off so well, you’ve been friends ever since.
In class, he was a quiet student that always had the answer whenever sensei asked him a question, turned in his work on time, and actually pulled his weight during group projects.
Out of class, he was your friend that ate lunch with you, walked you home, made fun of you every chance he got, helped you study when you were about to fail chemistry.
During a game though… he was a completely different beast, and just the sight of him was enough to make your body feel like it’s on fire.
You usually try to ignore your growing feelings for Iwaizumi, but when you see him out on the court in his uniform, with his amazing receives and powerful spikes, you can’t help but let your eyes linger on him just a little longer.
It was match point for Seijoh, and you could feel the tension in the air so thick, you couldn’t breathe.
You watched as Oikawa points a finger at Iwaizumi, setting the ball perfectly for him.
Three blockers lock in on Iwaizumi, but that only made the ace’s eyes harden, and you felt butterflies making a home for themselves in your belly
Iwaizumi jumps, and the next thing you heard was a loud slam, your eyes barely able to follow the powerful spike that the opposing team had no chance of blocking.
The crowd around you celebrates as you run down towards the court, cheeks aching from the huge smile on your face that got only wider as you see Iwaizumi get jumped by his teammates.
“Congratulations Iwa-chan!” You yell, and his eyes snap around until they finally land on you.
He gets out of his teammates grips, the last thing you see was his grin before he sweeps you up in his arms and locking your lips in a kiss.
You were shocked for only one moment before you return his excitement with your own.
“Jesus Christ, get a room!” you hear his teammates, but at that moment, you couldn’t give damn.
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HANAMAKI –
Hanamaki had been your best friend since junior high.
You were reminded of that so abruptly when you get a call from Iwaizumi to pick him up from the after-game party at Oikawa’s house, saying Hanamaki’s been looking for you like some lost puppy. The party that you just left an hour ago, asking Hanamaki if he’s sure he doesn’t want to come with you, but he insisted it was okay to leave him because he was going to be just fine.
“Why you walking so fast,” Hanamaki slurred
“Because it’s late, and I want to go home, Makki.” You can’t lie, you were a little buzzed yourself, which is what prompted you to head home early in the first place. “You’re lucky Oikawa lives just a few blocks down.”
“Come on, y/n,” he bugged you, intentionally slowing down your movements by rooting his feet down where he stood. “Slow down,” he slid his hand down your arm to intertwine it with your fingers, “Let’s enjoy the walk.”
You let him lead the way, footsteps moving at a glacial pace. His eyes were closed, and he had a certain glow about him, his shoulders slumped in a way you haven’t seen in a while.
“Open your eyes, you idiot,” you say with joking tone, “You’re going to trip over.”
“No, I won’t, I have you to guide me.”
You rolled your eyes, moving to loosen your fingers from his grip, but he just tightened it.
“Stop,” he said when he noticed what you were trying to do, “Just let me hold your hand.”
The fluttering in your stomach doesn’t stop, witnessing the side to your best friend that you rarely got to see.
The two of you finally get to your house, the one that stood directly to the left of Makki’s. He stood facing you at the gate, preparing to part ways.
“You gonna be able to make it all the way over there by yourself?” You joked, and he stared down at you with clouded eyes.
You stared back at him, frozen as you watched his eyelids slip close and he lowered his head to place a chaste kiss on your lips.
“Good night,” he said, taking a step back and stumbling towards the direction of his own home. “I’ve always wanted to do that,” you hear him mutter.
You stand at the entrance of your gate until you see that Makki has safely made it inside his own. Suddenly you let out a shaky breath you didn’t know you were holding, slowly lifting your fingers up to your lips.
You chuckled, finally heading inside to get ready for bed, wondering if Makki is going to remember that in the morning.
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MATSUKAWA –
People usually have the wrong impression of Matsukawa – they say he’s intimidating, and quite scary looking.
But in reality, he is just one giant 6’2” goof ball.
“What the hell,” he teased you on your usual walk home. “Who the hell eats Kit Kat like that?!”
You just smile, laughing at how easy it is to rile him up.
“What? They present it in one rectangular bar, so what’s the problem?” you peel back the wrapper of your favorite chocolate.
“No, you’re supposed to break off the individual pieces!”
You take one big bite out of the entire Kit Kat, fighting the urge to burst out laughing when Matsukawa just stared at you in horror.
“You… you just want to watch the world burn.”
This time, you actually did laugh, and Matsukawa thought he was hearing music.
“It’s just chocolate, what does it matter how I eat it, as long as it gets eaten?” “I can’t believe I actually like someone as psychotic as you.”
The both of you stopped walking; you, trying to register what Matsukawa just said, and Matsukawa trying to understand why the hell he just said that.
“You… like me?”
A small smile began to appear on your mouth, one that only grew wider as Matsukawa just got redder. He was trying to avoid your stare, and the first words that came out of his mouth came in a stutter.
“Ye – Uh – Well – Hey, look, is that Makki?”
You raise your brow and turn around, getting more confused when you see that there was no one around.
You turn your head back only to see Matsukawa’s face mere millimeters from yours. You inhaled sharply, holding your breath while Matsukawa gave you a second to move away. When you didn’t, he lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly, placing both his hands in his pockets. “I do like you.”
He walked ahead of you, leaving you a flustered mess.
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newtonsheffield · 4 years ago
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i would like to indulge you...
write a hc about anything you want ,,, anything or anyone; mark and janet, kathony, the bridgerton bunch, whistledown themselves.
go absolutely wild with creativity and have fun cause you’re a great writer.
-💕
Okay! 
I feel like every single one of these in indulging me tbh, as well as taking the burden off my friends who would usually have to hear about this all!
This may not be what you’d expect but today, Ladies, we’re talking about a beautiful tropical fish, a noble and poetic, land mermaid, a beautiful, talented, brilliant, powerful musk-ox: Edwina Sheffield. 
Edwina Sheffield was about 14 when she realised that people treated her older sister just a little differently than her. And truly, she had no idea why. Kate at 19, was Edwina’s favourite person. She’d left for university last year but still called her everyday, checking in, helping her with what she could over the phone, and coming home every few months her smile bright, her hug warm, and a  “I’m here to spring you Eddie, get your coat.” 
and they’d spend the whole day in the city. Visiting museums, going to the park, Kate would sit for hours and listen to all of Edwina’s problems, listen to her talk about philosophy and whatever else she wanted. And Kate was beautiful (though Edwina was sure she had no idea) and smart and funny in a very sly sort of way that often left people dumbfounded. But people seemed to fixate on Edwina in an uncomfortable sort of way, their eyes often sliding right over Kate, who kept a smile on her face the entire time as Edwina was introduced and their parents friends said
“My Goodness isn’t she beautiful!” in that gushing sort of way that made Edwina blush, furiously. And she hated it, Hated that Kate seemed to spend her entire life being Edwina Sheffield’s sister, when the thing she was proudest of was that She was Kate Sheffield’s sister.
Kate’s first boyfriend (though it hadn’t lasted long), Mark, had been a friend of hers from university. And Kate had brought him home for the weekend. Edwina had been 15 and his eyes had practically bulged when he’d seen her, looking between Edwina and Kate with a slightly startled expression on his face.  “THIS is your sister?” He’d said, his mouth falling open a little. And Kate had sighed, a little resignedly and said  “Yes, Edwina.” And Edwina had caught Mark’s eyes tracking her across the house more than once that afternoon, bewilderment etched on his face, as he quietly looked between their parents and Edwina and then Kate, almost as though he was trying to place all of their features into her face, shaking his head. By the end of the weekend, Kate had sighed and whispered to Eddie as she left, “It’s not going to work out with Mark I don’t think.” And Edwina had bitten her lip and frowned wondering why he couldn’t see how excellent her sister was.  “I’m sorry, Katie.” she’d said, and Kate had shrugged and said  “It is what it is.” and Edwina had wished for a moment that Kate could see herself the way Edwina did.
Unfortunately it only got worse when Edwina became a model. Edwina wasn’t a vain person, but she knew she was a beautiful woman, and modelling was fun! And it gave her the opportunity to raise awareness for charities and influence the world on her tiny platform. But she hated the shadow it seemed to cast over Kate. She heard again and again as Kate introduced herself as  “Kate Sheffield.” And people’s eyes widened in surprise regarding her carefully before saying  “Edwina’s Sister?” in a very incredulous tone and Kate smiled brightly every time in a way that looked natural to everyone but Edwina and said  “That’s right!” 
“I really am sorry, Katie.” Edwina always said in the car home and Kate smiled  “Don’t be, I’m very proud to be your sister.” And Edwina’s heart ached when she responded  “I’m even more proud to be your sister, you know.” and Kate always tutted in a choked little voice. “I’m not sure why.”
The very first time it happened, Edwina was at a gala for some children’s charity. Edwina had tried to beg Kate to attend. Kate had refused only for Anthony to turn around, his lower lip pouting a little and say  “What if I ask you, Kate?” his voice a little gravely, a crooked grin on his face. Kate had attempted to look stern for a second before sighing and saying  “Fine.” in a clipped tone that was certainly a very good attempt at being unaffected. Edwina had grinned at Anthony and given him a high five in thanks over the head of a scowling Kate.  
Edwina had been standing with Kate and Anthony, sipping from her champagne glass, laughing at a story Anthony had been telling about Kate when a dark haired woman had breezed up to them, saying  “Anthony if you keep hiding in the corner like a frightened Gazelle, I’ll have to tell Mum on you.” Anthony had rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around the woman saying in a bored voice, “And where is Simon tonight Daph?” Daphne Bridgerton, Edwina assumed tutted and said  “He’s been ensnared by Cressida over there and he abandoned me with Nigel Berbrooke so I’m getting my own back.” a devious smirk growing on her face as she turned towards Kate.  “Kate! Still not bored with Anthony yet?” And Kate had laughed brightly, Edwina’s heart glad for her sister’s happiness. Daphne had then turned to her and said  “And you must be Kate’s sister.” And Edwina’s heart had nearly burst for affection for Daphne Bridgerton, and smiling so widely her cheeks hurt she said  “That’s right!” And Edwina had noticed Kate’s proud little smile and thought she’d certainly need to spend much more time with the Bridgertons. 
I don’t know what this is I’m sorry
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colehasapen · 4 years ago
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(ONE SHOT) I see ghosts in their smiles  DC
A03
Bruce never fully understood the relationship between Flash and Green Lantern. At a glance, they were so different that logically one would think that they'd fight more than they had, but that had never been the case; Barry and Hal had bickered, had argued, but rarely ever fought. Barry had been mild mannered and polite, while Hal was brash and confident, but these differences hadn’t driven them apart, in fact, it had brought them together. The two of them had been a pair on and off of missions, though many hadn't known the true extent.
Not until it was too late.
The Founders though, they’d all been well aware. They’d had a front row seat to the evolution of the relationship between the two of their more colourful members. They’d seen the two of them go from acquaintances to teammates, to friends, and then to lovers. They’d all teased them in their own ways, found them wrapped around each other in some way or another; they’d interrupted dates for missions, had stumbled across them in embarrassingly compromising situations, had even offered them their blessings, because despite everything, Barry and Hal were good for each other. Somehow, despite being the two most scattered members of the League, they managed to ground each other.
Barry and Hal had been a good pair, but Barry’s death had been the start of Hal’s downward spiral. Barry’s death had been a wake up call for them all, in the same way Jason’s death had been for Bruce; they’d all known, of course, that they were flirting with death everyday, but it hadn’t truly sunk in for a lot of them until Barry had sacrificed himself to save the world.
Now, they were both gone. Both dead; and despite all the differences Bruce had had with them - Jordan more so than Barry - he  misses them.
He misses the old Flash and Green Lantern, more than he ever thought he would. It makes the fact that there’s two new heroes in their place all the more painful.
Wally West and Kyle Rayner.
Bruce has known Wally since the boy was a lanky teen in yellow following his uncle like a cheerful, friendly shadow. He’s known the young man since he was a child, and it’s strange, seeing him in Barry’s place. It’s thrown all of them off balance, having one of the children they helped train standing among them. Wally’s the Flash now, a young man, but Bruce still looks at him and sees the child that used to come over every weekend to play with Dick.
Kyle Rayner doesn’t have that same history. For all intents and purposes, he had been a normal kid until the ring had chosen him and he’d become the last Green Lantern in the galaxy. He’s a nice enough kid, of an age with Bruce’s own boys, with a relatively clean record that paints an image of a friendly, easy-going artist with his head in the clouds. He’s good at what he does, despite learning it all on his own, and mostly competent despite how new he was at hero-ing. But Hal’s actions had proved that they had to be wary of Lanterns, proved that Bruce had gotten too complacent around his teammates, and he wouldn’t make that mistake again. Bruce keeps the new Lantern at an arm’s distance, close enough to stop if he loses it too.
Watching them together is like looking at ghosts.
"It's like watching  them all over again." Clark’s voice is nostalgic and sad, and Bruce very pointedly forces his eyes away from the two young men huddled together near the back of the cafeteria. Superman’s eyes are distant, but there's a light of understanding inside of them when he meets the other hero’s gaze.
Clark knows him too well.
Despite not answering verbally, Bruce inclines his head and grunts.
Wally and Kyle had been a couple no one had suspected, not with the way the two of them bickered. They’re both young, rash, impetuous, and it tends to lend to an image of two young cats hissing and spitting over territory; somehow, without any of them really noticing, the two youngest main roster members of the League had drifted together and meshed despite everything. The arguing had gone from genuine antagonism to something fun and easy that others often found amusing in darker situations.
Now, it wasn’t surprising to see them tucked together with some game or another, or surrounded by snacks in the common room. There had been plenty of talk between the older members of the League, those who had known about their predecessors’ relationship, about another iconic Flash-Green Lantern duo, to the point where Bruce almost decides to not put the two young men on missions together any more, just to avoid having to look at ghosts every day.
But they were good at what they do, and they work well together, despite their bickering, almost like they know instinctively what the other needs in the thick of things without needing to communicate. They tend to poke each other into going beyond their limits with well-placed quips and jokes, and they get the job done quickly and efficiently.
It really was like looking at Barry and Hal again, and maybe that wasn’t a good thing, considering Barry’s death had just been the start of Jordan’s spiral.
Clark offers him a sympathetic smile, “The kids are growing up fast.” The Kryptonian hums slightly, slanting him a slight look. “I always thought it would be Dick and Wally in the end.”
He’d thought the same too, but Dick wouldn’t appreciate his thoughts on it.
Bruce winces slightly, “Nightwing’s happy with Starfire and Oracle.” He says. He’d always thought the same, with the way his ward and Barry’s nephew had been as teens; he knew they’d tried it, had experimented together quite frequently, just like he knew they ended it on good terms as friends, because it was what worked best for them, in the end.
They’d been good together, but they’d decided they were better as friends and teammates, and Bruce would respect that choice. It was the least he could do, after everything he’d put Dick through.
Clark nods his head, right as a burst of laughter drags both of their attention back to where Kyle and Wally are sitting. At some point, Kyle had flipped his sketchbook construct to show whatever he had been drawing to the redhead, who had dissolved into cackles at whatever was on the page, snickering into his food. As they watch, the young Green Lantern grins boyishly, leaning forward to give the speedster a quick peck on the cheek before shoving a hand full of fries into Wally’s mouth and laughing himself.
Around them, the noise had drawn the attention of other heroes in the cafeteria, and Bruce doesn’t need to look to see that they’re all softening at the sight of the two young men.
“They’re their own people.” Bruce says finally, “Their own heroes.”
Clark nods, expression soft, “It’s different.” He admits, “But sometimes I still end up calling them by another name.” He shrugs, looking repentant, when Bruce frowns at him. “I called Wally, Barry the other day during monitor duty, because he said something that reminded me too much of him. I mean, it’s not surprising that he  would act like Barry - but it throws me off sometimes.” Clark looks sheepish, apologetic, “It’s strange, having Wally working with us. He’s a good kid, but-��
“-But he’s not Barry.” Bruce agrees with a sigh. “We always knew he would take over as the Flash after Barry.” Barry hadn’t exactly been quiet about it; he’d been so proud of his nephew, and would tell anyone who listened that Wally would become the Flash someday, that he’d be even better than Barry.
“I’d always hoped it would be because Barry retired.” Clark says sadly, “Have a few kids; they did such a good job with Wally. Maybe he and Iris would have managed to talk Hal into coming with them - Hal never could deny them anything, even if he tried to act tough.”
But they were all dead - Iris first, then Barry, and then Jordan.
“Kyle’s a good kid, too.” Superman continues, “Ernest, creative, even if he’s a little rough around the edges. The Lanterns would have loved him - probably would have taken him under their wings.”
Bruce grunts, and Clark slants him a knowing look. As much as he likes Rayner as a person, or how much he reminds him of Dick, he can’t trust him, not after Jordan proved to them how dangerous an uncontrolled Lantern could be.
“He’s  not Hal, Bruce.” Clark points out, “And Hal did the right thing, in the end - thanks to him.”
“Jordan proved that I was getting too complacent.” Bruce says blankly, “Every hero here is just one bad day away from becoming the very thing we fight.”
Clark sighs, leaning forward to press a kiss against Bruce’s cheek, there and gone. “My break’s over.” The Kryptonian says apologetically, smiling. “You should go home and get some sleep, Bruce. A full eight hours, at least.”
Another laugh rings out, and Bruce turns his head just enough to see that Wally had scooted his chair closer to Kyle’s, their knees bumping, and he’s moving to playfully pull the dark haired Lantern closer to press their lips together with a cheeky grin. The ketchup smeared across the artist’s cheek was proof enough of what they had been doing before.
It’s damningly charming, and sweet, but all Bruce can think when he sees them is that there’s a chance they could end up in the same situation as Barry and Hal. There’s too many ghosts in his head, too many skeletons in his closet, and two of them wear crimson and green.
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zmayadw · 3 years ago
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Hello to all :)
So, before I run off for the weekend and from this unberable heat to my own little personal Duskwood (by which I mean a house in the woods :D ), I promised to someone I would post the epilogue to my story by friday, and I keep my promises :)
Anyway, I wish you all to have a great weekend! Take care :)
CALL OF THE RAVEN
PART 27 - EPILOGUE
And so a year passed. One year since Hanna was found, one year since I met my wonderful friends. And one year since the most beautiful blue eyes I ever saw stopped haunting my dreams and became my reality.
It's been almost six months since I decided to move in with Jake and make Duskwood my new home. It was the easiest decision I ever made. They all became the most important people in my life, and I couldn't even imagine a day passing without beeing close to them. We shared a bond stronger than anything. They became my family, and family definitely doesn't start or end with blood.
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„You said five more minutes. Almost twenty passed!“ Jake announces from the doors. „I know, I know! I'm done!“ Turning in my chair, I just stare at him. „What? Do I look that bad?“ he asks worryingly after a moment. He was wearing black pants and a dark blue formal shirt, wich made his eyes color even more intense. That always amazed me, their color changing from greyish-blue to such an intense blue, I got lost in them so manny times. „Maya?“ His words snaped my attention back. Getting up I smile walking to him „Oh, the opposite, babe. You look very handsome.“ He smiles back. Wrapping my hands around his neck and kissing him softly first, then pulling him closer intensifying the kiss, hinting him more than clearly where I'm heading with this. He moves away raising his eyebrow „Oh, no, no, no.“ „What's a no?“ I ask, biting teasingly at my lover lip. Groaning he takes another step backwards from me „Argh, don't do this to me, angel!“ „I have no clue what you're talking about.“ I say taking a step towards him, playfully twirling a strand of hair arround my finger. „We don't have time for this!“ „Oh, well then.“ I say dissapointed and with a sigh start towards the bedrom. Passing him, I take my shirt off droping it on the floor at his feet „I suppose I'll go get ready then.“ I could feel his lustful stare following me. I barely stepped into the bedroom when his hand comes around me, pulling me to him, his other hand moving the hair from my neck. His soft lips on my skin sent tingles all over me. „You are driving me crazy.“ He whispers to my ear. „And you love it.“ I hum back. Turning me to face him he grins „But just so we're clear, you are going to explain to my sister why we were late to the wedding. And I'm dying to hear what excuse you will think of.“ Laughing I put my hands around his neck „Don't worry, babe, I can get quite creative when needed.“
„So, tell me you two, what was it that made you almost end up late for the wedding?“ Lilly was looking inquisitive at Jake and me. „Yes, Maya, please tell Lilly why we were almost late.“ Jake grins at me. Oh, he is so gonna get it for this! „There was...an emergency with my dress.“ She snorts „Right, I'm sure there was.“ Flashing her the most wonderful smile I could make „Oh, come on, Lilly, don't be like this. Hannah just got married, we should all be happy.“ „You two are impossible. I need a drink.“ She shakes her head before leaving us. „Emergency with the dress? That's the best you could think of?“ Jake raise his eyebrow at me. I grin „Shush it. It worked..kinda.“ „No it didn't.“ He laughs. „Fine, it didn't.“ I agree. „Then next time, you think of something better.“ He chuckles „Oh no, I'm not letting you make a habbit out of it.“ Turning to him with a wicked smile and going for a kiss, but stoping so close our lips barely touch „Whatever you say, babe.“ Without finishing the kiss, I slowly turn and head for the bar. „You are killing me!“ he yells after me. I turn my head and wink, just as Dan shows up next to him. „Troubles at paradise, man?“ he asks him. Jake grins, not taking his eyes off me „Quite the opposite, man, quite the opposite.“
The cool night breeze swirled arround me as I lean on the railings of the terrasse. Watching my friends looking so happy and laughing makes me smile myself. Seeing them like this, no one would ever thought that a year ago their lives turned into a nightmare. Even if the scars of the past events might not be visible to the eye, they are there, imprinted deep into each one of them. With time, they will fade more, and become just a distant memory.
The scars on my body are a different story. They will always be there, a reminder of bad days. But that's all right, I don't want to forget anyway. I want to remember, that no matter what shit life threw at me, I survived, I came out of it stronger. And no matter what might come my way next, I will be all right. They are also a reminder of all the good things that came along with them – new unbreakable friendships, and love, the purest and strongest love. Non of it would be able to exist without all the bad thats happened.
A raven perched on a tree cawed, calling for my attention. His beady black eyes curiously observed me. It's caw echoes around me again, it's sinister voice carried deep into the forest. That sound was frightening to me, sending shivers down my spine, bad memories resurfacing with it. But not this time. With a smirk I look at the bird straight in the eye „Don't waste your time with me, you don't scare me anymore.“ The raven continued to stare at me, moving it's head from one side to the other, as if searching to find just a hint of doubt in my words. Unsuccessfully. It's wings flapped, it's caws echoing as I watch it fly away, getting lost somewhere deep in the forest. „Everything all right, angel?“ Jake voice comes from the doors. With a smile I move from the railing and turn to him, call of the raven falling more silent behind me „Everything is perfect.“
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„Finaly! I was beginning to worry.“ I almost yell in my phone. „Sorry, angel, I just stepped outside a minute ago.“ „Well that took forever. At least tell me you have good news?“ I ask impatiently. „Let me pick you up, then we'll talk.“ „Oh, no, no, no.“ I protest. „I've been waiting for hours, I can't wait anymore, I'm going crazy here!“ „All right, all right.“ He laughs. „Sooooo, what's the verdict? Is it over?“ I was so nervous to hear his answer. „It's over, angel.“ I screamed so loud from happines, scolding myself instantly for doing so in a place that I was at the moment. „Oh, babe, I'm soooo happy to hear this!“ I laugh „You haven't called back for so long, I was beginning to play the worst scenarios in my head. I know Dan said I can ask him for anything, but I doubt he would agree in helping me busting you out of jail. With a mention of it being a federal one, the chances are even slimmer. “ He chuckles „Yeah, I doubt that, too.“ „Tell me, did they agree to your demands? Is your record clean again?“ „Let me put it like this“ he says „They were more then extremely satisfied with the results they got from the informations I provided for them, that I could have asked for an island and they would say yes to it.“ I burst out laughing „Well, owning an island is a new trend these days.“ He laughs back. „Jake?“ I say serious. „What's up, angel?“ „Do you regret doing any of this? I mean, this was something you were forced to do, and honestly, I don't want you to end up hating me one day for any of this. I know I asked you that before, but still..“ „Listen to me, angel. I would do all of this the same way every time, without hesitation, through a thousand lifetimes, if in the end it would mean I get to have you.“ A tear escape my eye, more threathening to follow „Gosh, don't you get me in tears, silly! Now, come and get me, so we can go celebrate properly!“ He chuckles „All right, angel. And where are you?“ „You don't know?“ I ask surprised. „Don't tell me you stopped tracking my phone?“ „I will never do that.“ I laugh „Good, then you'll know where to pick me up. Love you.“ „Love you, too. See you soon, angel.“
I know why I decided to come to this place while nervously waiting for news from Jake. First time he brought me along, there was such calmness radiating from him, just sitting here, in the same spot I am sitting now. I never seen him being more at peace anywhere else but here. I guess I hoped coming here would do the same for me. And I was not wrong.
Collecting my stuff I stand up and look at the tombstone that I was sitting in front all this time.
Here lies Anna
A beloved daughter and mother
You will be missed forever
„Don't worry, Anna“ I smile at the tombstone throwing my backpack over my shoulder „Jake will be all right, I'll take good care of him. I promise.“
THE END
A/N: All right, so this is it, the end. I want to say a big 'thank you' to anyone who read it! :) I had fun writing it, and I hope you had fun reading it :) And honestly, I am a bit sad it ended, but we all know all things must come to an end eventually. Anyway, thak you again, much love to you all :)
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retrievablememories · 4 years ago
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moonlight | jaehyun (m)
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title: moonlight pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: smut request: “Hi 😘 Nct members going to a strip club and jaehyun getting a private dance that turns into fucking scenario please? Can be smutty” word count: 3.2k warnings: sex work, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, riding a/n: I admittedly don’t know much about strip clubs at my big age of 23 💀 I researched what I could but took some creative liberties. I only included a handful of nct members here since that is a looot of men lol 
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“Don’t look now, but your pretty boy and his group of friends are back. Diane says their car is outside,” Anya says, walking into the dressing room where the rest of the girls are. Your interest is piqued at this, though you pretend not to hear her as you finish applying your makeup. Serena isn’t so quick to let you off the hook.
“Isn’t that your boyfriend? Your little boy toy?” Serena asks, leaning closer and batting her eyelashes at you.
You pause with the mascara wand in your hand. “What boyfriend?” you scoff, though you already know exactly what she’s talking about.
“Girl, stop pretending like you’re not into him or some shit. You look at him almost as much as he stares at you!” Anya rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip, looking every bit of an Amazon in her 6-inch heels.
“He’s yet to request a private dance, so…I’m not sweatin’ over him. And anyway, he’s no boyfriend of mine if he ain’t paying the bills.”
“Okay, I heard that one!” Both Serena and Anya laugh at your comment. But now that you know he’s here, you are suddenly a little more motivated to dance well tonight. Not that you don’t already, but a little extra never hurt anyone.
Him and his idol friends come around to Moonlight every so often, one weekend or so a month, to get their rocks off. They’re from that kpop group NCT, and you’ve figured out the one who stares is Jaehyun. But you don’t know a ton about them other than those bare facts.
With Moonlight being one of a few ultra-diverse strip clubs in Seoul, it rose to popularity fairly quickly after its establishment. And to no one’s surprise — no one who truly knows the game, anyway — there are always a lot of kpop idols who come to watch the dancers. Their fans would undoubtedly be scandalized if they knew, but hey, that ain’t your problem. You’re here to make money, have fun, and seduce starry-eyed, lonely men. If they’re attractive, that’s only a bonus.
The House Mother, Daya, comes to stand in the doorway and calls your name. “You’re up next girl, so move that ass!”
“I’m coming,” you sigh dramatically, but there are no hard feelings at all. She’s one of the nicer club owners in this part of the city, one who treats all the girls like equals no matter what their skin color or creed is. And when you work in a club as popular and as multicultural as Moonlight, you need someone there to keep the drama to a minimum.
--
The club is as dim as ever, but the stage lights remain at a low shine, ready to come on full blast once the next dancer appears. The music thumps so heavily that the bass seems to become one with the building, making every part of the club feel alive with energy. A group of 5 men enter, weaving their way through the seats to make it to their usual spot next to the stage.
“Wow, can’t believe we’re actually in a strip club right now, haha…” Mark tries to play it cool, but he’s not very good at hiding his nervousness. This is only his first strip club outing with the other boys, after all. He taps his fingers on his legs like he’s playing the drums.
“Yeah, could’ve sworn we were on Mars instead,” Doyoung says, and the others laugh while Mark rolls his eyes.
Mark isn’t the only one whose nerves are getting to him, though. Johnny notices Jaehyun’s restless demeanor as the rest of them settle in, and he muffles a laugh, nudging the younger man. “God, I hope that one dancer you like is here tonight, you look like you’re about to come out of your clothes.”
“She’s way out of your league,” Ten snickers.
“Stop acting like I’m ugly. I could get her any time,” Jaehyun argues, glaring at the other man.
“She’s a woman of her own, not something you can take as you please, Jaehyun!” Johnny says, and both Ten and Jaehyun laugh.
“Johnny, you should keep an eye out for your own crush.” Doyoung gives him a knowing look, and he only laughs sheepishly in response.
It isn’t long before you appear on the stage, the club bursting with cheers and claps and the dual spotlights flickering to full illumination. The spotlights glisten on your skin and reflect off the light pink lingerie set you’re wearing, making you look akin to a goddess—at least in Jaehyun’s eyes. You step out from behind the velvety curtains, letting the fabric caress your body before making your way towards the pole in the middle of the stage.
Your signature song plays as you twist yourself around the pole and perform your favorite tricks, letting yourself be hyped up and carried away by the people around you calling your stage name and throwing bills at your feet. The world spins as you do, revolving around the pole with your legs touching the sky. You grin at the upside-down faces staring back at you, leaving your charm to do all the talking.
You finish your pole routine by slowly sliding down to the base of it and landing carefully in a split. Your back is facing the NCT boys, though you look over your shoulder to flash a sultry look at the audience. This one is always a crowd-pleaser—though you also use this move as an excuse to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun’s expression. You aren’t disappointed by the hunger written across his gaze.
You gracefully turn your body to them, getting on your hands and knees so they have a full view of your chest. As you crawl closer to the end of the stage, Jaheyun’s figure grows clearer underneath the club’s simultaneously dark and light atmosphere. He’s close enough to reach out and touch. 
So you do—bringing your legs out in front of you and spreading them in an appealing stretch before resting them on his shoulders, one after the other. Other men in the club seethe with envy. Jaehyun himself is stuck like a fish out of water, blushing madly but also completely into your display.
Beside him, Doyoung whoops and Johnny whistles. You lift your legs off of Jaehyun gracefully and follow the move by letting your silk robe slip off your shoulders, fully exposing the bare skin of your shoulders and back. Even this is enough to get the men riled up again, and you revel in their cheers.
Jaehyun knows enough strip club etiquette than to try to touch you, and you take advantage of this by gliding off the stage and circling him like he’s your prey. You purposely brush your silk robe over his body, letting it cocoon him in your scent. His fingers drift across it, and he wonders if it could possibly be as soft as your skin looks—or maybe you’re even softer.
Before he can truly get into it, you’ve flitted off to another nearby table of men, taking your silk with you.
“Holy fuck,” Mark looks like a deer in the headlights, and his legs are crossed uncomfortably to hide his obvious boner. 
“The baby’s gonna implode!” Ten laughs.
“Well hold it, because the night is just beginning!” Doyoung shouts.
Jaehyun’s eyes keep coming over to you even as you rotate to one of the other, smaller platforms in the club, another girl taking your spot on the main stage.
--
“You really put it on him tonight, huh?” Serena says, putting her arm around your shoulders. “He’s totally in love. Watch him come to the next show with an engagement ring.” You chuckle at that idea. You find it strangely endearing. You wouldn’t marry him without knowing him, of course, but the idea of having him that tightly wrapped around your finger makes you grin.
You don’t have long to think about it before Daya is coming to break up your kiking fest.
“You’ve got a request for a private dance from one Jaehyun. Sound familiar?” Daya announces. Serena nudges you, and you nod. Daya raises her eyebrows. “You up for it?”
The corners of your lips curl up in a smile. “Give me 5 to freshen up.”
--
Moonlight holds a dozen or so rooms within its second story, all solely reserved for private dances. You climb the stairs slowly in your heels, partly because you don’t want to trip and partly because you’re slightly nervous about what to expect. There’s an abundance of security guards stationed on this level—and each room has an emergency button—so you’re not worried about safety, per se. Whoever this Jaehyun guy really is, you hope he can meet a few of your expectations, at least. Maybe it’s a little embarrassing, but you’ve built him up in your mind more than you’ve allowed yourself with other club-goers.
The room number is 202. You stand in front of the door for a few moments to take several deep breaths. Then you relax your body, talking yourself back into your Performance mode, and open the door.
“Who’s this handsome man?” Jaehyun looks up to see you standing in the doorway, still wearing your outfit from the stage. He sits up on the plush black couch that stands out from the blazing purple hue of the rest of the room. A row of mirrors frames the wall behind the couch, reflecting your own figure back to you. He looks a bit disheveled, with his shirt unbuttoned and his slacks crooked, but it’s a good look for him.
He leans forward to drink in your body, his eyes drifting up from the garters resting against your thighs to the lacy bra covering your breasts, and you smile underneath his gaze. “Jaehyun. And you’re ______...right?”
“Of course. You should know me by now, special boy,” you tease, sauntering over to him to sit on the couch beside him, instead of his lap like he expected. Still, you hover incredibly close to him, your hand sliding against his lapels and stroking the fabric of his button-up right where it unfolds against his skin. “After all, you’ve stared enough.”
“It’s hard not to.” Jaehyun rakes his eyes across your body as if he’s dying to touch it. You smirk and stand up again, sliding off your silk robe and throwing it to him as you wind your body to the music coming from the room’s speakers.
“What would your girlfriend say?” you tease.
His eyes widen at that. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Don’t act so scandalized about it...men with girlfriends and wives come here all the time. It’s shitty...but it’s life.” You say this while twisting your hips in his face, and he initially seems a little too distracted to realize you’ve said anything. Then it registers.
“That’s....do you like this j-job, at least?” Jaehyun’s breath hitches at the end of his sentence when you drape yourself across his body, your head resting back on his shoulder and your ass pressing against the undeniable bulge in his pants. Still, he doesn’t touch you, which you are grateful for—many other men haven’t been so tactful during private dances—so you continue servicing him without a care in the world.
“It’s fun, and I get to meet handsome men like you.” Your fingers ghost across his jawline, drifting only inches away but not making contact. “There’s a lot to like about it.”
You move away and he thinks you mean to get up, but you only turn to face him. “You can touch me now, if you’d like. I think you’ve been a good boy…”
You grind in Jaehyun’s lap and are delighted when he responds in kind, pushing his hips up to meet yours. Your faces are inches apart. You are practically breathing in sync, smiling like there’s a secret only the two of you know.
You make the first move by kissing him, and he slants his mouth against yours as if your lips have always belonged together.
You grasp Jaehyun’s hand and lead it to your hip, and he takes the cue to rest both of his hands on your waist, simply following your directions.
He does take the lead with the kiss, though, biting your lip as you gently pull away, and tugging you back in. He tastes like alcohol, and as cliché as it is, it makes you feel a bit drunk—but that might also be due to his demeanor itself.
“How long have you wanted this?” you ask, sliding your hand into his black shirt and drawing your nails across his skin—not painfully hard, but enough to make him throb under you.
“Maybe too long,” he says. “You’re very beautiful.”
You smile. “Aren’t we a perfect match, then?” Your hand slides lower, to his abdomen and the muscles you can feel even under his dress shirt, and then to his belt. “Would you like to continue?” you ask. 
“Yes.”
You unbuckle his belt, sliding the leather through his belt loops and dropping it off to the side somewhere. You slide yourself off his lap to kneel in front of him as you caress his lower half, rubbing your hands up his thighs and across his bulge, underneath his clothing to feel his abs, and then back again. 
Unzipping his dress pants is equally fun. You watch him sweat and feel him shudder as you drag the zipper down with your teeth. You pull his underwear down after, slowly drawing the material over his skin on purpose. His cock springs out, hard and thick and flushed with need, and you lean forward to drag your mouth over it, base to tip.
Jaehyun is heavy and warm against your lips and he smells good, like male musk, like pheromones and desire. You hold the base as you slap his dick on your tongue and he rolls his head back, making a sound between a groan and a laugh as if he can’t believe this is happening.
He doesn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he lets you do the work of sliding him into your mouth as far as you can take, drooling over his dick and sucking him so messily that it makes his knees quiver. The groans and grunts you pull out of him are lovely to hear—you feel good to know that you can bring him this much pleasure so easily. His precum drips into your mouth, salty on your tastebuds.
Jaehyun is pliable in your hands as you stroke his shaft, focusing your tongue on his leaking tip. You feel his thumb brushing the back of your neck, his hand settling on your nape as he watches you suck his dick. He curses under his breath when you scrape your teeth against him very gently, giving just enough pressure to make it feel good.
Soon, you feel Jaehyun nearing in your mouth, his cock throbbing harder and his thighs trembling around you.
“I-I want to fuck you,” Jaehyun says abruptly. You pull back to look at him through your eyelashes. You leave a trail of spit lingering between your lips and his dick, and he looks like he might come right then.
“Such a greedy boy.” You lift yourself to be level with his eyes, tilting his chin with your fingertips. “What’s the magic word?”
“Please?” He looks like he isn’t totally certain that’s the right answer, and it makes you laugh. In response to his request, you turn to face the door, bending over and making a show of unclipping your garters and sliding your thong down before straightening to remove them completely. Jaehyun moans at that.
You turn back to see that he’s already taken care of the condom. He groans beautifully for you again when you crawl back onto his lap and slide him inside of you, clenching around his hard length.
You start with a slow and winding rhythm at first, not entirely hellbent on teasing him but not willing to let him blow his load too soon, either. His hands are all over your body at this point, gripping your ass and your breasts and whatever else he can get his hands on. He pulls your bra down and tugs your nipples into his mouth like a man starved. 
You laugh at his eagerness, riding him harder.
Jaehyun plants his feet straight on the ground and starts thrusting up into you and you cry out at the added sensation, his tip hitting against your g spot and making you sweat and tremble.
“Fuck, you’re good,” you sigh, digging your nails into his shoulder as you fuck each other at the perfect pace.
“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he says in between sucking your nipples. “I’ve gotta taste it.”
“N-next time.” Your body squeezes around him again as he brings one of his hands to the front to rub your clit. You’re glad the music is loud, otherwise there’d be no hiding your noises or the sound of your skin slapping together.
You feel wild and free in a way you haven’t in a long time, and you let yourself scrape your nails across his skin and bite at his neck as you fuck yourself harder on his dick.
You and Jaehyun kiss and thrust against each other like you’ll never get to do it again, with all the delicious hurriedness that a quick and tension-filled type of fuck can offer.
“I’m c-close.” Jaehyun groans this into your hair as you’ve gone back to biting his neck again. He grips your ass and holds you tighter against him, if at all possible, and pushes himself into your spot with renewed energy. His hand still works your clit, just shy of being firm enough to hurt—but practiced enough to provide pleasure.
“Not without me,” you say, licking the shell of his ear. “What would your friends say?”
“They wouldn’t know, because right now, you’re mine alone.” He slaps your ass and that’s enough to get you spilling onto him, crying his name right into his eardrum as you shudder and tighten around him.
Jaehyun comes soon after, thrusting a few more times and settling himself deep inside you as he fills the condom. He leans his head against the couch and you watch as he vocalizes his pleasure, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he arches into you.
You feel sated and a bit sleepy now, but your shift isn’t over yet and there are still more shows to be done. You lay a kiss on Jaehyun’s throat before gingerly untangling yourself from him and redressing, making sure everything is in place.
Jaehyun throws away the condom and does the same for himself, though there won’t be any hiding the bruises you’ve left on his neck. He looks in the mirrors behind him and blushes at the sight of them, brushing his fingers over them.
“Sorry honey. Hope your friends don’t tease you too much over it.” You smile sympathetically, though you aren’t terribly sorry. You move to open the door but Jaehyun calls out wait, and you pause.
He slides a piece of paper with his number on it into your hand and gives you a smirk. “Don’t forget our promise. ‘Next time,’ remember?”
You tuck the paper into your bra and make a note to put it somewhere safer once you get to the dressing room. “Of course, baby.” With that, you are gone, and Jaehyun is left with the memories—and the marks—to remind him of you until you meet again.
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jebazzled · 4 years ago
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it ain’t your muse! (shut up & write, ft. rihanna)
You nerds are always talking about your muse. My muse this, my muse that, I have no muse, my muse went the way of the dinosaurs, if my muse comes out of its burrow and sees its shadow I won’t be able to write for six weeks.
Shut up about your fucking muse!
It is true that you might go through periods where it is hard to find time and energy to write, or negative experiences in a writing community might leave you with anxiety surrounding writing. But by and large, writers block is something you can overcome! 
Please, for the love of god, let me help you. 
Writing is a muscle, and you’ve got to exercise it if you don’t want it to atrophy. 
This tutorial is a bit of tough love about y’all and y’all’s diddly-darn muses, and some advice for snapping yourself out of it!
So here’s the thing about writing, my loves. You have to actually do it. 
TERRIBLY inconvenient, I know.
I’m not here to tell you how to manage your work-life balance or how to manage your time. If you’re not writing much because you straight up don’t have time to write much, my advice is simple: pare down on your characters, focus on the plots that matter most to you, and spend some mental health juice on reminding yourself that there isn’t an RP Prom Queen, and even if there were, it’s better not to live or die by that bizarro crown. 
But if you’re having trouble writing because of Your Muse... I’m cracking my knuckles. 
We’ve all written with folks before - or been that folk before - who need a very specific set of circumstances if they’re going to write: they need time to Pinterest, need to listen to a specific playlist, need to get in the mindset, need the thread to scratch a very specific itch and need all of it to come together before the moon passes out of a waxing gibbous. As a fellow dev ho, I understand the appeal of writing to suit a mood, of vibing to a playlist, of prioritizing the stuff you’re going fucking feral for, of having the stars align while you do the thing. But if you’re like this when you’re writing for other people - 
well, you’re making things difficult for both you and your writing partners! We can’t control the external constraints on our time, e.g. work and school, and we can’t always control the nonsense our psychology spins to keep us from writing. But some things are within our control, and by god, if there is any control to be had in the year of Mother Sappho 2021, don’t you want it? 
At least some of your writers block is probably dumb as hell. So let’s beat the shit out of that part.
Anyway, if you’re yakking on and on about how your muse demands a bottle of red wine and a scented candle and fairy lights and soft socks and the blood of the servant, willfully given in order to spit out 200 words, or whatever... 
it’s not that fucking deep.
Writing is a muscle. It’s like any other muscle: you need to exercise it. 
If you’re training for a 5k, you don’t sit on your couch listening to “Eye of the Tiger” until race day. You get your ass off the cushion and pound the pavement. You probably start by alternating walks with short bursts of running. You probably don’t work your way up to actually running 5k at a time for a few weeks. And once you’ve run that first 5k, you don’t go sit on your couch to listen to “Eye of the Tiger” until the next race. You keep running to stay in shape for the next race.
Writing is like that. 
What you write does not have to be perfect. 
You can work on the post for six weeks and there will still be things you could change. You know what change your writing partner would have appreciated most? If you’d posted it for them three weeks ago. Don’t let perfect be the enemy of good. 
Cut yourself the same slack you cut for your writing partners. Do you yearn to keelhaul them if their reply isn’t worth a National Book Award? No, because you’re not an asshole. They’re also not an asshole. Everyone is reasonable here. Write something that responds to what they gave you and that gives them something to work with. Not every single post has to be capital-I Inspired. ✨
What you write does not have to be a vibe ready for the Goop newsletter. 
I was a creative writing major in college, and I was always having to turn stuff in for class that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to work on: a short story set in another country when I just wanted to write a play with puppets, an essay about food when I would rather write one about a weekend drive, etc. 
Sometimes, you write what you write when you write it not because it’s getting you hot and bothered but because you’ve owed a reply for A While and you feel bad about keeping someone waiting. It will still be fun, because you chose to do that thread with your character and someone else’s character for a reason, and that reason stands, even if your monkey brain is yearning to play with that slime that makes fart noises when you put it away. 
(Pro tip, here: don’t do threads you don’t actually have any interest in writing! It is less awkward to tell someone, “I am not interested in my character weed whacking your character’s lawn” than to waste their time with 10 posts of it before telling them, “I am not interested in my character weed whacking your character’s lawn.”) 
The more you write, the easier it is. 
Let’s talk about running again. A couple of years ago, I went on a bit of a kick with the running. I ran at least three times a week. I would bring my running shit with me to work so I could run in the park near my office. I would make running dates with friends. I would reward myself with a bagel from my favorite cafe if I did a run. And you know what? Once I got myself past the hurdle of pulling on my running clothes and lacing up my shoes, I enjoyed myself. When I ran 5k without slowing to a walk, I was proud of myself. When I told myself, “let’s do another loop at the park!” and stopped to take a photo of the sunset, I enjoyed myself. I would not have enjoyed myself if I hadn’t hit the goddamn pavement.
Put your ass in your fucking chair. I don’t care if you don’t have the right scented candle. Write 50 words. Right fucking now. I’ll wait.
Write another 50.
Now write another 100.
How long did that take you? Some days, it might take you 90 minutes to write 200 words. But that’s 200 more words than you would have written in 90 minutes of browsing Pinterest waiting for an angel to come down from heaven and write this post for you. 
All that bullshit you do to Feed Your Muse? It’s stalling, you idiot. 
The more you make yourself write instead of just thinking about writing, the easier it will be to actually fucking write. 
I used to sit and stare at posts for hours and hours and hours before submitting them, so worried about the post being good enough. When I moved to a neighborhood with an aboveground train line, I was able to write on my morning commute, and writing every morning - even if only the 200 words I could crank out on mobile in 30 minutes before work - got me out of my weird writers block crutches and security blankets. It didn’t take as much effort to write, anymore. I wrote over 200,000 words in 2019, and over 300,000 words in 2020, when I had barely any commute at all to use on writing. I didn’t magically have endless hours of free time. I just wasn’t wasting my free time pretending that being on Tumblr counted as writing. 
Tough love: doled out. And now:
TIPS & TRICKS FOR BEATING “””Writers Block”””
Stop acting like Writers Block is real. It’s not that it’s not real, but by telling yourself that you have Writers Block, you’re making it worse for yourself. You’re making excuses for yourself. I used Writers Block to stall writing my Topics in Creative Writing: Folktales portfolio for 3 months, and you know what happened? I still had to turn in the fucking portfolio, because the person I was writing for didn’t fucking care about my fucking Writers Block. And you know who had to sit her ass in a chair and write 30 pages of folktales in a 24 hour period? Me. It’s almost like my Writers Block was just PROCRASTINATION. 
Set a timer. If you’re looking at your list of replies owed and you’re feeling like it might be easier to “do character dev” and “build a playlist” than to write your posts, break the task into smaller pieces. If your server has a sprint bot, use it. If not, set your own timer.  Organize your list of threads with the ones you’ve owed replies on the longest at the top. Set your timer for 20 minutes and see how much you can write for the oldest post you owe. Not done? Set the timer for another 20 minutes. Keep setting that timer until that post is done and you can drop it in the tags channel. Now do the same for the second oldest.  CRANK! THEM! OUT! If you find that it’s depleting your creative energy, that’s not unusual! When I get to this point in my own posting habits, my oldest replies owed are usually for Albus Dumbledore, a character I write specifically because I hate him. It is often easier to knock out all his posts in one chunk rather than shift voice, so this ends up working out nicely. 
Don’t indulge your stupid stalling tactics. Do you typically get sidetracked by Pinterest? Put your phone away and close that tab. Do you get absorbed in lining up the perfect music for writing a post? Write in silence, asshole. Do you need to be in your favorite chair with the right lighting? Go sit on a park bench and write on mobile.  It’s nice to write in idealized environments. I rented a treehouse last summer to write 10k on a novel! I get it! But you absolutely can write in other environments, if you have to. And if you can get yourself to write on a dark skin on your iPad at an airport in the Midwest while waiting for a flight - well, shit, think of how much you’ll be able to write on a laptop when your diva ass demands are properly met!
Don’t take on shit you don’t want to write. I fully admit that these tactics feel a bit like homework/chores/a to-do list for what is of course a fun hobby. You know how they say “love what you do and you’ll never work a day in your life?” If you don’t take on plots, characters, and threads that don’t have a lick of interest or excitement for you, this shit won’t feel like a hassle. 
Hope this whips all you little miscreants (myself included) into shape! Now quit your yapping and start writing. 
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atlafan · 5 years ago
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Take it Slow - Part Thirteen
a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.
(Fluff and smut in this one. Would love to know how you are still liking the story!)
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve
Masterpost
Over the next couple of weeks, you and Harry took turns staying over at each other’s places more often. You both agreed it was easier for him to stay over on school nights because you needed more things to get ready for work in the morning. So you would stay at his place more on the weekends. You were tired most mornings with him there, but it was a good tired. Your mood at work was overwhelmingly positive, and many people noticed. You couldn’t help it, essentially being given an orgasm every other night of the week did wonders for you. Between the way he would rub you, or go down on you, you were perfectly content with where things were with Harry. He was happy to be given head or a hand job as well.
Harry desperately wanted to be able to touch more of you, to feel more of you, but he knew he would get there with you eventually, and there was really no rush. The awful run in with Jake was slowly slipping from your memory. You truly were feeling like your old self.
Wednesday morning, Niall popped into your office. You were standing at your desk, editing away at a clip a client had sent in. You see Niall and take your headphones out.
“Hey.” He says with a smile.
“Sup?” You’re clearly busy, but don’t want to be rude.
“Are you doin’ anything for Halloween?” Halloween was next weekend, and you hadn’t thought twice about it. You used to love Halloween when you were in college, but not it was less fun when you didn’t have a full weekend of dressing up and binge drinking.
“I don’t think so, why?”
“I’m gonna have a party at my place, just decided last night.”
“Oh fun! Your place really is perfect for a party.”
“I’d like to do some type of costume contest.”
“Hmm, like a couple’s costume contest?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Not necessarily, I just think having a contest of some kind will get more people to want to dress up.”
“Definitely, this is gonna be so much fun! I’ll have to think of some costume ideas.”
“You and Harry should be Tarzan and Jane.” He starts laughing.
“He would never go for that, but something tells me he’ll be open to some interesting ideas.”
That night when you get home from work, you walk into the delicious smell of a home cooked dinner. Harry has his apron on, and is frying up some tofu and veggies. You walk over to him, and wrap your arms around him.
“Dinner’s almost ready love.”
“Wednesday’s are my favorite. Rest day from the gym, you get off work early, and you cook for me.” You kiss him on the cheek, and hang up your jacket. “What are we having?” You ask, sitting at the table.
“Garlic and ginger tofu stirfry.” He says placing a plate in front of you.
“Oh yum! Thank you sweetie.”
“Don’t mention it.” He smiles at you. You both dig in and you can’t help the moan that comes from your mouth. “Good, huh?” He chuckles.
“Mm, very good. God, you are such a good cook.”
“So are you.”
“But you’re better. So...”
“So...”
“Niall told me he’s having a Halloween party next weekend.”
“Yeah, he texted me last night. What should we go as?”
“Yay, so you’re into it?”
“Of course, I love Halloween parties. It’s fun to take pictures of people dressed in what they wish they could wear all the time.”
“Good point. Any ideas for costumes? I want to be creative, but it’s kind of last minute so I don’t know how much time we’ll have to make something.”
“Hmmm, what about like eighties punk rockers. We could wear leather pants and black eyeliner.”
“Are you going to wear a wig?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because eighties rockers had long hair.”
“Not all of ‘em. I won’t wear a wig, but I’d wear everything else.”
“You just want to see my butt in a tight pair of pants.”
“Not true! Although, you would look incredibly sexy.” You swat a hand at him while you shovel more food into your mouth.
“Oh! What if you were like Charlie Brown and I was Peppermint Patty?”
“Isn’t she a lesbian? Wouldn’t really work for a couple’s costume.” He laughs.
“Are we really going to discuss whether or not a comic strip character is a lesbian? And who cares if she is, they’re still good friends, it would be cute.”
“You could be snoopy?”
“How could I possibly dress up as snoopy?” Harry starts to blush.
“Well, you could wear like a white dress, and paint your nose black. You could buy the dog ears, and um, a collar.” He looks down at his food.
“You want me to wear a dog collar?”
“It would be part of the costume.”
“I do have a black choker I could wear…does he wear a black collar or a red collar?”
“I can’t remember, we can look it up.”
“I think I have one in both colors. You know what, this could work, and I think I have a white jumpsuit I could wear. I could wear my white heels, the choker, and you’re right just paint a nose on and buy the ears. You must have black shorts, we could buy a yellow polo and paint a black zig zag on it.”
“This’ll be fun.” Harry loves when you say the word we. It was a word he used to be scared of, but it sounds so good coming from your lips.
That weekend you two go to WalMart to pick out the extra components of your costumes. You buy some black fabric paint, and slip a piece of cardboard inside the shirt. Harry lays down some newspaper for you on his kitchen floor, and watches you intently while you paint the zig zag on the front and back of the yellow shirt.
“Okay, now don’t touch this, and just let it dry, I don’t want it getting smudged.” You hand it to him, and he places it on his desk to lean against the wall.
“Do you like to paint?”
“I do, actually. My Nannie used to paint when she was younger, I actually have some of her art hanging in my apartment.”
“Maybe we could go to one of those like, wine and paint nights at a bar sometime.”
“You’d be into something like that?”
“Sure, Niall and I have actually done it together a couple of times, it’s pretty relaxing.” You burst out laughing.
“You two have the weirdest friendship.” You say wiping tears from his eyes.
“Oi, what’s the difference between two men having a boys night and two girls having a girls night?”
“I suppose not much, it’s just funny to picture you both getting wine drunk and painting. But from your original point, I think it would be a lot of fun if we did that sometime.”
//
You had your period this week, so you couldn’t wait for Halloween to roll around because you knew you’d be done by then. You took out your white jumpsuit. It was cute, low cut with spaghetti straps. You bought it because it had pockets and because it was boot cut. The ones that flared out too much made your legs look weird. You slipped it on, and twirled in your mirror. It really made your butt look great. You left your hair down and straight, and stuck your dog ears on. Then you took out your black choker and your red choker, still not being able to decide which one would make more sense. You didn’t want to look like Brian Griffin, so you went with the black choker. You paint a black nose onto yourself. You slipped your white pumps on, and waited for Harry.
Harry strolled into your place around eight-thirty. He had a pair of black converse on, paired with black shorts, and the yellow shirt you had made for him. His jaw nearly hits the floor when he sees you.
“I didn’t know snoopy could be so sexy.” He says walking over to you. “Is, um, aunt flow still in town?”
“No, she left yesterday.” You giggle. “I didn’t know you owned sneakers like that.”
“I had to really dig them out of my closet. I tried to make the outfit work with my boots, but it just wasn’t happening.” You notice his nails were now black and yellow.
“Can I just say I love that you color coordinated your nails?” You hold his hand looking over the colors.
“Hey, when I commit to something, I commit.” You give him a funny look. “Right, shall we head over?”
“Yup, let me just grab my bag. We’ll go back to your place after, yeah?”
“Works for me.” He smiles, and takes your bag down to the car, checking out your ass in your jumpsuit. “That really is a sexy outfit, (y/n).” You feel your cheeks heat up when he places a hand on your thigh as he drives to Niall’s.
“Thank you, Harry.” You give his hand a little squeeze.
When you get up to Niall’s, the place was already packed. You spot him right away. He had a white t-shirt on that said ‘chill’ on it and you immediately rolled your eyes. You spot Sarah who is wearing a tight red dress that she pinned the word Netflix to. Niall comes over to the greet you, and to take the bottle of wine you brought.
“Glad you guys could make it.” He looks you both up and down. “Charlie Brown and Snoopy? Damn, why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because you are unoriginal, mate.” Harry grabs your hand and brings you over to the drink cart to make the two of you drinks. You wave to Sarah who gives you a thumbs up.
You just realized you had never been to a big party with Harry before. Well, you both had been at Niall’s holiday party last year, but you weren’t there together. Nor did the two of your even speak. You remember him slightly talking to a group of girls who were probably all waiting the clock out to see who he would take home with him.
Rachel was there with a girl, who you recognized as the girl she took home from the bar over a month ago. You make eye contact with her, and you both wink at each other. You were so happy your friend groups were merging.
“Oi! It’s the lad himself!” You hear a man with a thicker British accent yell to Harry. Harry whips his head around, and you swear you had never seen him smile quite so big. The man was wearing all yellow and had a picture of Heinz Mustard on his belly. Ketchup probably not too far away.
“Lou!” Harry yells back, and the two practically run into each other’s arms. “What the fuck are ya doin’ here?”
“I drove in for the party, that alright with ya?” The two hug for another second, before Harry turns back to introduce you.
“Babe, this is my mate Louis. Louis, this is my girlfriend, (y/n).” You hold your hand out to shake, and he takes it kindly.
“Nice to meet ya.”
“Same to you. So, did you go to college with Harry and Niall?”
“Yeah we spent some time at uni together. It’s so funny, ya live in the same country with a guy, only a couple of hours away your whole life, and it takes goin’ ‘cross the pond at some random school to meet.”
“And you also decided to stay in the states?”
“Yeah, well the girl I was with at the time convinced me to stay here with her. We broke up eventually, but by that time I had already gone through the process of dual citizenship.”
“Oh I see.”
“Mate, El is here with me tonight, I’m sure she’d love to see ya, let me go grab her.” You see Harry roll his eyes after Louis leaves.
“I fucking hate his girlfriend, her name is Eleanor.”
“Oh, why do you hate her?” You put a hand on his arm to soothe him.
“She just rubs me the wrong way. She hated how close Lou and I were, that’s why he lives like two hours away, because the three of us would hang out all the time. The three of us lived together for a while, and she yanked him right out.” Louis walks over with Eleanor, and yup, she’s ketchup.
“Hi Harry.” She says with what you assume is a fake smile, because he’s giving her one as well. They give each other a small hug.
“Hey El, this is my girlfriend, (y/n).”
“Hi, love, nice to meet ya.” Why were there so many British people in this area? How did they find each other? “Girlfriend! Well, it’s ‘bout damn time, H.” You look up at him and scrunch your nose. You had never heard anyone refer to him like that. 
“Was just waitin’ for the right girl.” He hooks an arm around your waist, and you feel peaceful.
“Harry, come do shots with me like old times. I know Niall has that good tequila.”
“Deal.” The boys go into the kitchen to find shot glasses, leaving you with Eleanor.
“Did ya ever watch Boy Meets World growin’ up?” You make a face at the odd question, but laugh.
“Um, yeah, I loved that show.”
“Right, well, what you’re lookin’ at”, she points to the boys who are clinking two shot glasses together. You already know you’re going to have to uber back to Harry’s later. “is a the real life Cory and Shawn.”
“Which one of us is Topanga?” You giggle.
“Me, of course. I was always the third wheel with them. I met Louis in grad school, and you would think that two boys wouldn’t act like such children around each other.” You didn’t think Harry was close with someone other that Niall. “Jesus, and when the three of them would get together.” She rolls her eyes.
“They seem to really miss each other. It’s good for guys to have friends.”
“Oh I agree, I don’t mind Niall. Harry just never really warmed up to me, and would make things difficult for Lou and I. I know he blames me for why Lou lives so far away, but I got a really good job offer and he wanted to come with me.”
“I get it. My best friend lives outside the city, and it’s hard enough to get together with her only an hour away.” Yes, you still considered Kate to be your best friend, even if you still weren’t talking to her. “It’s a two way street, both people have to make the effort.”
“We invite Harry to visit all the time, but he always say no. I think he would feel like the third wheel, not that that’s possible. Maybe now that he has you, you could convince him to come out for a weekend here and there. We can’t stay with him here because he doesn’t have space for us. And hotels can be so expensive.”
“Sure, I could definitely put a bug in his ear.” You hadn’t been away with Harry yet, you didn’t really want your first weekend away to be with another couple, but you would see how things go.
“Thanks, Jesus, look at them.” You see them laughing as they take another shot. “That’s their third shot you know? We officially no longer exist at this party.” Before you can say anything, Sarah comes up to you with a shot glass for yourself.
“Here, Harry asked me to do one with you.” You take the cold glass from her and tip your head back.
“I love tequila, I’m gonna get more. Eleanor come on, come do a shot.” She sighs, but follows you into the kitchen.
You grab a lime and some salt. You cut up the lime into small sections.
“What are you doin’?” Harry slurs. Wait, Harry is drunk? He never gets drunk.
“I’m gonna do some shooters.”
“Shooters?” He mimics your American accent.
“Yup, give me your hand.” You lick a small spot on the top of his hand, his eyes growing wide at the PDA, and shake some salt on it. You do the same to your own hand. “Okay, so, how it goes is, you lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on the lime.”
Eleanor and Louis do as you did, and you all lick the salt at the same time. You take your shot, and grab the lime immediately to suck on. Harry can’t help but watch as your teeth sink into the fruit and suck the juice. You take it out of your mouth and look at them.
“See, way more fun way to take a shot.”
You start to feel a bit tipsy, and suddenly the music is calling you. You walk away without saying anything to find Sarah and Rachel. The three of you form a little group so you can dance. Niall really did have the perfect layout for a party. There was room to sit or stand around to just chat, and he had the room for dancing. Whatever playlist was on was hitting just right. Some oldies and newer hits was the perfect combination.
Eleanor leaves to use the bathroom, and Niall goes to stand with Louis and Harry, as the boys watch the girls dance.
“I gotta say Harry, she sure knows how to move it.” Louis says.
“Yeah, she sure does. I would have loved to know her in uni, apparently she was quite the party animal.”
“The three of them were.” Niall says, taking a sip of his drink. “Sarah has told me some wild stories. (y/n) apparently is one of the most fun people to party with.”
You move along effortlessly to the beat of the song. You and your friends are laughing and singing along loudly to the music, but no one can really hear you. A lot of other people start dancing, it might as well be a club in here.
“Lou?” Eleanor says after coming back from the bathroom.
“Yeah, love?”
“Come dance with me?”
“You bet, see ya guys out there.” Harry rolls his eyes as Eleanor drags him away.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was comin’?” Harry looks at Niall with a pout.
“Thought he was goin’ to flake. He’ll be around all weekend, don’t worry you two can have some alone time, I’ll make sure of it. Just try to pretend to be happy for him.”
“I am happy for him, I just wish he found any other girl to make him happy.” Niall starts to walk away. “Where you goin’?”
“My girl is out there shakin’ her ass, so you better believe I’m gonna go dance with her, and you should do the same, plenty of guys are watchin’ her.” He points over at you, and it was true. Plenty of people were watching you.
A drunk Harry stumbles over to you, and wraps his arms around your waist, pressing himself against your backside. He starts dancing with you, like really dancing with you. He wasn’t the embarrassed man who referred to himself as a giraffe the first time you went dancing with him. You wondered if this was what he was like in college, if he would grind with girls to show them what he had, and bring them home with him. You shake the thought from your head, and move against him in perfect rhythm. He turns your around to face him, his hands slipping down to your butt. You wrap your arms around his neck, and dance on him. He’s dying to know your college stories. You seem like such a good girl, but maybe not, and he wanted to hear all about it.
In a bold move, almost forgetting where you were, you grab hold of his collar, and yank his face down to yours, kissing him. He puts his hands on your face, and pulls you in for a deeper kiss, while your hands go on his hips. Your tongue is instantly in his mouth, and he tastes like tequila. He was so incredibly sexy, and you were extremely turned on. You hadn’t been able to do anything all week with your period in the way. You still pleasured him because you wanted to, but you missed his touch.
“Jesus, look at ‘em go.” Louis nudges Niall, taking a break from the dancing.
“You know, I’ve only ever seen them kiss in public once, and it was nothin’ like that.”
“He’s really into her, huh?”
“He asked her to be his girlfriend three weeks in.”
“Wow, yup, he’s got it bad. Wonder what it is?”
“She’s just…a good person. Instant connection.”
“Good for the lad, he deserves a good woman.”
Harry breaks your kiss, as he remembered where you are. If you were anyone else, he would take you and lead you to the bathroom, press you against the wall, and take you from behind. But he couldn’t do that with you, not yet anyways.  He leaves you to dance with your friends, and you catch him dancing with Louis and Niall. You can’t help but take your phone out and take a quick video of the occasion. You and your friends take selfies and videos of yourselves. You’re still in awe of Harry, having more fun that you had ever seen him have. Louis brought out an exceptional mood in him. It was funny to see the three of them sing along to the same song, wondering what Harry’s singing voice might sound like.
The party slowly dissipated, but not before you and Harry were deemed best costumes. You didn’t win anything, but the bragging rights were nice. You offered to help clean up, but Sarah told you she would help Niall. Harry was in deep conversation with Louis while you went to grab your coats. They were looking at Louis’ phone and snickering like children. You smile and hand Harry his coat.
“Lou, I’m gonna go get settled in the guest room, night Harry.” Eleanor said.
“You’re stayin’ here?”
“Yeah, hotel was too expensive. What are you up to tomorrow, was hoping to just have lunch with the lads.”
“I can definitely do that.” Harry turns to you. “You don’t mind right?”
“Not at all, babe.”
“Just text me tomorrow, mate.” The two hug, and Harry hooks an arm around your waist. “Oi, Niall!” Harry yells.
“What?” He yells from the kitchen.
“Great party mate, I’ll be by tomorrow.”
The cold air on the street slaps the two of you in the face.  You take your phone out to order an uber as Harry holds you from behind, humming into your hair. You had never seen him quite so drunk before. Usually you were the one that was drunk while he was perfectly fine. You were still buzzed, but you were nowhere near where he was. You lost count of how many shots he had actually taken. You just knew he consumed a lot of tequila.
The uber pulls up pretty quickly, and you both climb in. You keep an arm around Harry, and he rests his head against your shoulder, still humming some song you can’t quite make out. You key into his apartment, and immediately take your shoes off. He watches you walk into the bathroom. You really needed to pee, and you needed to wash off that black make up on your nose. You take your dog ears off, but leave everything else on. He’s by the sink drinking some water when you return.
“Didja have fun tonight baby?” He asks you, guzzling down the water.
“Yes, babe, don’t drink that so fast, it’ll upset your stomach.”
“Aw, are ya gonna take care of me tonight?” He says in the sweetest voice. “Treat me like your l’il baby?”
“Do you want to be treated like a baby?” You raise an eyebrow at his funny words.
“Not particularly.” He slurs. “Did you know that I love babies?”
“Yes, you’ve told me before, remember? You like shooting maternity photos for people.”
“You know, I really do.”
“I’m glad you had fun tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh so much.”
“S’not true.” He pouts. “You make me laugh all the time.”
“It’s okay, Harry. I have fun with my friends when we haven’t seen each other in a while too. You and Louis looked like you were having a great time.”
“We were, he’s really my best mate. Niall is too, the three of us are like the three amigos.”
“So I saw. It was funny watching you three dance together.”
“It was just like being in uni again. Everyone always wanted to come to our parties, we threw the best parties (y/n).”
“I believe it.”
“Are you mad?”
“What? No, of course not, why would I be?”
“Because I drank a lot more than I should have. I was supposed to get ya home.”
“But you did, the uber was just fine.”
“Let’s go sit on the couch, yeah?” He grabs you by the wrist and pulls you towards the couch. Before you can sit down he looks you up down. “Where’d ya nose go?”
“Washed it off.” You shrugged.
“This is such a sexy outfit, have I told ya that yet tonight?”
“Maybe once or twice.” You giggle. “But it’s always nice to hear.” He pulls you close to him, and pats your bum.
“You have the best ass I have ever seen, have I ever told you that?” You feel your cheeks flush. He was starting to get fresh. You slip your hands to his butt to mimic what he’s doing to you.
“I could say the same about you.” Giving one of his cheeks a little pinch, he jumps back a half inch.
“Oi, if you do that again, we’re going to have a problem.”
“Oh really?”
You start pinching at him again, and he starts to tickle you, making a ghastly laugh come from you. You slap your hand over your mouth, but he pulls it away. You try to tickle him back, and you end up chasing him around his little apartment. He picks you up from behind, swinging you around, making you squeal. He puts you down on the bed, he hops over you and lays on his back, he looks at you and taps his legs. You get the idea and crawl on top of him, straddling his legs.
“I’d like this to come off ya now.” He slips your straps off your shoulders. “If that’s alright with you.”
You lean up, and put your arms through the straps. You push the material down only a little, causing Harry to pout for the millionth time tonight.
“I’m not wearing a bra with this.”
“I know.”
“I like when you take your time with me.”
Harry sits up against the headboard so you can sit on him easier. He brings his mouth to your jaw, and kisses down your neck. He sinks his teeth in where he always does. The skin must be raw there with how often he kisses you in that spot. He licks over it to soothe you, and kisses down your chest. His hands move up to your breasts, and kneads them through the material. He looks up at you for approval, and you nod yes. One hand moves to the back of the jumpsuit, and un zips the small zipper so he can easily tug the material down. Your breasts pop out, and he looks like a kid in candy store. Sloppy wet kisses cover your chest instantly. He sucks on your left breast, and you groan with your head rolling back. He take the piercing between his teeth and he twists it. You roll your hips on him involuntarily.
“You like that?” He coos. You nod your head. “Use your words baby.”
“Yes, I like that.” You say through your teeth, as he continues to suck on your tender nipple. Your hands go straight into his hair and rake over his scalp, causing him to moan while he sucks on you.
“I gotta get his off of ya, please will you let me?”
“Yes, but you have to take yours off too.”
You hope off the bed, and he does the same. You take his shirt off him, and push his shorts down his legs, careful to leave his boxers on. Your jumpsuit falls off, pooling at your feet, and revealing a white lace thong. Harry furrows his eyebrows.
“You, you were wearing this all night?”
“Um, yeah?”
He takes you, and gently bends you over the bed. You rubs a hand over your ass. You half expect him to spank you, but he knows better, he knows you don’t want that. A finger dips into the material, and he plays with it for a moment.
“Your ass looks amazing right now.” You start giggling. “What?”
“I can’t tell if you’re an ass man or a tit man. You seem to really like both.” You say looking back at him.
“If it’s a part of your body, then I like it.” He puts both hands on your ass and kneads your cheeks. “This is just pure perfection.” He leans forward to press himself against you. He’s so hard against you, it makes you push back into him. “(y/n), can we try something different tonight?”
“Harry”, you stand up to face him, taking his hands in yours. This was a dreaded question. Selfishly, you liked things how they were. You knew he wanted to feel every inch of you, but you were still working through things at therapy, and you just couldn’t let him touch you like that yet. You sigh, feeling awful. “I’m so sorry, I’m just not ready for-“ You’re cut off by his hands on your face and his mouth on yours.
“I didn’t mean, doing more. I just had a different position in mind. I’m not ever going to suggest anything more until you say so.” He reassures her.
“Alright, what did you have in mind?”
“Well, first, how would you feel about sitting on my face?” Your eyes nearly pop out. That wasn’t something you did often. Even though his head had been between your legs countless time, sitting on his face just seemed really vulnerable. But you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on. To ride his face, to be so in control of the situation.
“Yeah, we could try that. What was the second?”
“Hm?”
“You said first, what’s the second position?”
“Let’s just try this, and then I’ll bring that up.” He says with a grin.
“Okay, but, let’s turn the lights off.” You point the switch on the wall, and he flicks it off.
“Take your panties off baby.”
You slide the thong off and toss it on the floor. He leaves his boxers on for now. Harry lays on the bed, right next to you. Your breathing felt heavy as you crept your way up to him.
“Don’t be shy, love. You’re so beautiful, I’m dying to see you from this angle.”
With his words of encouragement, you swung your leg over him, and lowered yourself onto his face. You were already dripping for him. The second he started sucking on your nipples you were a goner. Harry started to suck on your clit, and you grabbed at his headboard. You let out a breathless moan at the way he nibbled and sucked on your most sensitive area. You sunk down on him a little, and he moved his mouth to your warm, dripping center. His tongue lapped around you for a moment, but went up inside you so you could ride him. His hands moved to your hips and gently rocked you. You started to move yourself slowly against his face. His little bit of stubble adding the perfect amount of friction. Before you knew it, you were grinding down on him back and forth, riding his tongue. Your moans started to get louder and louder, clutching at the headboard, trying to pinch your legs together, looking for some release. But his hands on your thighs kept your legs open. You didn’t know if it was the different angle, or the fact that you were so in control, but you were feeling amazing. You loved looking down seeing him under you like this. You rocked faster on him, a thumb moving to rub your clit. That’s when you knew you were done for.
“Oh, fuck, Harry! Fuck!” You moaned out, over and over. “I’m goonnnnaaa, ahhh…” You came, hard on his tongue. He slowly sucked on you so you could ride your high out. He lifted you off of him, and he wipes his face. His chest was heaving up and down, and slowly he steadied it. He looked up at you and smiled.
“That was so hot, did you like it?”
“Yeah, it felt incredible. So, um…” You knew you weren’t done with him yet. “What was the other position?”
“Eager?”
“Curious.”
“I want to do that to you, while you do it to me.” You furrow your eyebrows for a second, putting two and two together. A slight squeak leaving your mouth.
“Are you asking me to 69?” He nods at you.
“Would you feel comfortable with that?”
“Well, would you have to eat me out…like from behind?”
“Yup.” He’s so comfortable with it. You weren’t sure if you wanted to have your ass in his face like that. You also didn’t want him accidentally licking your asshole or something. “If you don’t want to it’s okay, I just thought it might be fun to do that at the same time.”
“Well, we can try, and if I feel weird we’ll stop.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
You reach down and tug at his boxers. He lifts his hips up so you can bring them down his legs, tossing them aside. You wanted him in your mouth, that wasn’t the problem. You also didn’t want to be that close to his asshole either. He probably didn’t care because he was still intoxicated. You stare at his dick, it is absolutely throbbing for you, this snaps you out of any concern.
“Right, so it’s a little easier if we both lay on our side.” Confirmation that he’s done this before, wonderful. You want to roll your eyes at him, but you know he didn’t mean anything by the comment.
You lay on your left side, eyeing his dick that has begun to leak at the tip. You feel him move between your legs, as you stroke your thumb over his tip. His mouth is on you again, and you moan out that different sensation you’re getting from having him lick you from the opposite direction. You put on hand on his hip, and the other on his dick. You start out with just the tip in your mouth while your hand worked his base. You feel Harry groan into you, causing you to moan with him in your mouth. You had never done something quite so erotic. He licked you quicker and quicker, as you bobbed your head, taking more of him into your mouth. He rocks his hips into you as you do to him, you’re way more turned on than you thought you’d be. His chin is rubbing against your clit as his tongue goes back inside you.
“Ahh, shit!” You say with him in your mouth, taking him deeper. You feel him hit the back of your throat as he rocks into you, and you choke on him for a second. He stops to see if you’re alright. “Fuck, don’t stop Harry!” You say pumping just for a moment before wrapping your swollen lips around him again.
You felt your stomach tighten and you knew your release was coming. You could feel tears streaming down your cheeks from having his cock so deep down your throat, but you loved the way he tasted. Neither of you warn each other, just as you’re releasing on his tongue, his hot come comes shooting to the back of your throat. You take as much of it into your mouth as you can, but you need to moan out from your high. You cough up some of his come back on his dick, and you try to catch your breath. Harry turns his body so he’s fully laying on his back. You swallow what you can of the come that’s still in your mouth. You feel him yank at your arm, and he pulls you up, so you’re lying on his chest. He’s stroking your hair, trying to steady his breathing. His chest is laced with sweat.
“How, how did you like that?”
“It was different. But it felt amazing. I love the way it feels when you’re do that and you moan into me, it’s so hot Harry.” He moves to kiss you but you back away. “I should really go rinse my mouth out first.”
“It doesn’t bother me.” His pupils are still blown out. You look at his dick, it’s twitching, could it really be getting hard again? “Lemme kiss ya.”
“Please, I just want to rinse my mouth out, hold on a sec.” You quickly go to the bathroom, and rinse your mouth out. You’re back to the bed quick, just like you said. “See? Okay, now I’ll kiss you.”
You lean down and kiss him, slightly tasting yourself on his lips, but it’s not a big deal. He sucks on your bottom lip, biting it pretty good, and you groan. Your hands are in his hair in seconds, pulling at it. He wraps his arms around you, and pulls you on top of him. You keep your lower half hovering over him, not wanting to make contact.
“Please, I’m so hard again, please touch me.” He says against your lips.
“I thought when guys drank like this they had a hard time getting it up.” You say taking him into your small hand, giving him slow pumps.
“It has the opposite effect on me, god that feels good.”
You pump him until he’s panting. You loved the sight of his parted lips, and the way his hands grabbed all over your body.
“(y/n), can I please come on your ass?” You’re surprised at him.
“Um, sure.” You squeak.
You get off him quickly and lay on your stomach. He grips himself in one hand, and puts the other on your hip. He pulls you up slightly so your butt is more in the air. You hear him moan out, and it nearly makes you come again. Sensing this, at the sight of you squeezing your legs together, Harry reaches around to rub your clit, careful to only use his thumb.
“Fuck!” You scream out, feeling your third release of the night come at the same you feel his hot come spread all over of your back and butt. You nearly collapse on the mattress. You hear the bed creak, and watch as Harry saunters to the bathroom, coming back with a towel. He wipes you clean, and you turn over, amazed by him and what his simple touch does to you. You know you need to get up to pee, if you don’t you’ll regret it. He puts on a clean pair of boxers, and watches you go into the bathroom. You’re still crazy wet. A mix of you and him. You almost feel bad having to wipe it all away, but no guy will ever be worth having a UTI for.
“Here, wanna wear my shirt? You always look so cute in my clothes.” He coos, holding up a t-shirt. You happily take it and put it on. You get back on the bed with him, and he hugs you close to his bare chest. “You did so good baby, so good. You were amazing.” He rubs your back. You loved the way he always tried to make you feel better. It’s not like you were having BDSM, it’s not like he slapped you around. It wasn’t like you needed time to come back to him. But he knew you were always after doing something new or different.
“It was really nice, Harry. A good suggestion.” You snuggle into him, and he puts the comforter over the both of you. “Thank you for always being so nice to me.” You knew he’d be rougher with you if you let him. You knew if you said the word, you’d let him raw you over his desk. That was the thing with him though. He always asked for permission, and he didn’t do anything unless you said so.
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karajaynetoday · 4 years ago
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ours, for the rest of forever | ashton irwin
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Hello friends! Here is a godparent!Ash one shot, based on this blurb about being godparents with Ashton and also inspired in part by that scene in Season 5 of One Tree Hill when Brooke is randomly looking after a baby but has to also finish fashion sketches so Lucas comes to her rescue with babysitting and it is overall very soft and cute. You know the one! Lol. 
A very big thank you to Jex @sadistmichael​ , Anna @cheekysos​ , Jae @jae-writes-fanfiction​ and Hailey @talkfastromance4​ for proof-reading and providing feedback on this when it was in its draft stages. You’re all absolute gems! 
Anyway, enjoy the softness and as always, please let me know what you think! I’ve got some thoughts for a potential part 2, so we’ll wait and see how part 1 goes :)
(This is a fem reader insert)
Word count: 3.3k words
Warnings: none
More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here
When your best friend Alice told you she was having a baby, you were over the moon. She was honestly one of the most kind-hearted people you knew, and the amount of love in her heart for others would only bloom more for a little baby to hold and cherish. Her partner James had been by Alice’s side since your university days, and their relationship was one that was literally #goals. They’d moved over to Los Angeles because James had an opportunity to work at an indie creative agency working with music artists, and when you followed a year or so later to pursue a consulting job, they’d welcomed you with open arms into the little community they’d formed of Australian ex-pats, LA creatives and generally good quality, salt of the earth people. 
In the early days, there were lots of late nights (that became early mornings) running amok in West Hollywood, going from one house party to the next, but as you grew older, it became more likely to be a quiet Sunday sesh in someone’s backyard, with a barbeque cooking and someone playing their favourite tunes on a portable speaker while you floated in the swimming pool or lounged about on the grass with everyone’s various pets in attendance. When you met Ashton, he was drumming shirtless at his own house party, and then doing shots with James and their friend Calum. You were more than a little intimidated, although he had a kind face and welcoming nature, Ashton was forthcoming his opinions. On the other hand, you were always more reserved, and it took you  time to feel like you belonged with their crazy crew of friends. One night, you and Ashton ended up alone in the kitchen sharing some chicken nuggets and potato gems tater tots after a wild night on the house part dancefloor, and from there you could feel a solid friendship starting to take hold. 
A few months after Alice and James told you they were expecting, they’d invited you and Ashton out to brunch at one of your favourite spots. It was a little hole-in-the-wall café in Studio City that you’d first come to after Ashton wouldn’t stop raving about how good their iced coffees were. You all ordered your favourites (avocado smash with a side of smoked salmon and a hash brown for you, raspberry hotcakes for Alice, a breakfast burger for James, and pulled pork eggs benedict with a side of halloumi for Ashton) and were chatting away about your weeks at work when Alice reached down and pulled two envelopes out of her tote bag and handed on to you and one to Ashton. You took them, looking confusedly at Alice and James, who had big goofy smiles on their faces.
“Well, go on! Open them!” Alice half-shouted excitedly, squeezing James’ hand on top of the table. You and Ashton glanced at each other, perplexed, before tearing open the envelopes and finding a card inside. Yours read, “Will you be my godmother?” in gold writing on the front, and inside was an ultrasound photo with a handwritten note from Alice that made you tear up when you started reading it. You could see in your peripheral vision that Ash had a corresponding card in his envelope too, and he was standing up to give James and Alice a hug with an enthusiastic “Fuck YES! Of course I will!” that garnered some disapproving looks from the middle-aged women sitting near you. You held it together just enough to stand up and exchange hugs and choke out a “Y-y-yes” to Alice and James, before basically bursting into full blown tears of happiness and apologising profusely as your brunch was delivered to the table. As you wiped away your tears and managed to begin eating your avocado smash, you felt Ashton squeeze your hand reassuringly under the table, and when you glanced towards him he was grinning at you with a smile that was as bright as a thousand suns. 
It was a normal June day at the office a few months later when your phone pinged with a text from Alice in your group chat with her, James and Ashton that 
 read “It’s go-time. We’ll keep you updated!”. You replied with lots of exclamation points and crying emojis, and for Alice and James to let you know if they needed anything, and a few minutes later Ashton had penned a full paragraph about the beauty of the creation of life, how he knew that Alice and James would be incredible parents, and that he couldn’t wait to meet the little one once they made their way into the world. Ashton was frustratingly eloquent sometimes. Later that night, you received a photo message of a small, pink baby snuggled up on Alice’s chest, with James’ arm thrown around her shoulders, and the caption “Charlie Rose, ten fingers, ten toes. Come visit tomorrow, she can’t wait to meet you x” and you could barely sleep from the anticipation of meeting your darling goddaughter for the first time.
Ashton insisted on meeting you at the hospital so you could visit Alice, James and Charlie together (“Dude, we’re a godparent team here! A package deal! A dynamic duo! Can’t have you getting in there as the favourite from day one!”) and you’d never seen him more gentle or smitten than when the small, wriggly bundle of blankets that was Charlie Rose was placed in his arms. Ashton rocked her gently, kissing her head, and whispering to her about how incredible she was and how excited he was to see her grow. James was snapping away with his camera, and he asked you and Ash to stand together for a photo holding Charlie, which would later be stuck on your fridge for years to come (and possibly be your phone lockscreen, but no need to mention that to Ashton). 
Charlie was a tricky baby at first, resisting sleep and struggling with colic, but Alice and James were incredible and persistent and by the time she was 6 months old, they basically had the hang of this parenting thing. They didn’t want to christen Charlie in a church, but instead decided to hold one of your cherished backyard barbeques as a naming celebration for her. All of your nearest and dearest were there, and Alice’s mum had even flown in from Australia to meet her newest granddaughter. Despite it being an incredibly informal affair, Ashton insisted on making a speech about how he felt to be in Charlie’s life, to love and support her through every milestone and challenge she might encounter along the way. Charlie was happily gurgling in Ashton’s arms as he spoke, and she reached up to grab at his cheeks when he told her he loved her. Alice’s mum insisted on getting photos of everyone, including you and Ashton holding Charlie, and you tried to ignore the butterflies you felt when Ash slid his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side for a cosy photo pose. Were you actually starting to fall for him, or was it just the baby fever talking? Because damn, that man looked good with a baby in his arms.
When Charlie was almost 12 months old, Alice decided that she wanted to go back to work a few days a week. Charlie would be in childcare for most of the days, but you’d recently adopted a flexible working arrangement with your own office, and you insisted that you would love to look after Charlie for one day a week. The older Charlie got, the more adventurous she became, so what you’d originally envisioned as nice, quiet days of baking and craft activities and napping soon became full of visits to the playground and the beach and the zoo. Once Ashton heard about your regular babysitting day, he insisted on clearing his schedule as best he could, and joined the outings you and Charlie went on. It’s so much easier to cope with her boundless energy (and occasional temper tantrums) when you and Ash are together, and you have to admit it’s just as nice on the quieter days as well, when you snuggle in on your couch to watch a Disney movie, or do some puzzles with Charlie on the lounge room floor. 
When Ashton was back out on tour, he’d insist on FaceTiming with you and Charlie on your babysitting day so he didn’t miss out on all the fun. Sometimes he’d read her a story or sing her a lullaby before naptime, and sometimes the timezones wouldn’t work out and he’d end up calling during naptime, so the two of you just spent a little time catching up on each other’s lives from your opposite sides of the country or the planet. Ashton also loved collecting little souvenirs for Charlie on his touring travels, and your group chat with Alice and James was regularly filled with photos of snow globes or little soft mascot toys he’d found in one city or the next. It was so cute how excited Ashton got when he found a new souvenir for Charlie, and you couldn’t help but imagine how adorable he’d be when he had his own children and carried on little traditions like this for them too. 
One particular weekend, Alice and James were going away overnight to attend a friend’s wedding nearby, and despite their anxiety and nerves (and admittedly, your own), they decided to leave Charlie with you for the night as your house is the main one besides their own that she spends time in. They dropped Charlie off just after lunchtime, and after a teary goodbye, she’s soon happily playing with her toy cars and trains on the lounge room carpet (including making broom-broom noises, what a cutie) when you get an unexpected call from your boss. They’re rambling about a client needing an urgent rewrite on something that you’d submitted the previous day, a pretty sizeable project, and you could feel yourself starting to fill with dread at the idea of having to rework the entire thing while also keeping Charlie happy and entertained. After managing to jot down the gist of the rewrite on the back of a colouring in page you found on your coffee table and ending the call with your boss, you took a deep, calming breath before looking over to where Charlie was still playing on the floor. Sure, she looked content and adorable now, but nap time was fast approaching, and then dinner, and then eventually bedtime, and there was nothing Charlie liked more than stomping her feet and putting up a fight where sleep was involved. It was time to call for help, and your fingers found Ashton’s contact in your phone and hit “call” before you realised what you were doing.
“Hey, how’s it going with my favourite girl?” Ashton answered cheerily, and your heart stopped beating for a moment before you mentally face-palmed when you realised that he was talking about Charlie, not you, being his favourite girl.
“Hey Ash! All good so far, but um… I think I’m going to need some help. My boss is having a crisis, so I need to smash out some edits and new content in the next three hours, but Charlie’s due to go for a nap and you know that she -” You could feel yourself starting to sound more panicked with each word that you spoke, but Ashton quickly cut you off with his soothing voice.
“That she likes to pick a fight at nap time, yes. A truly assertive future world leader on our hands, I reckon. I’m just finishing up a demo, but I’ll be there in 20 minutes. I’ll sort dinner as well, spaghetti sound okay?” He mused, sounding as calm as ever.
“That… would be amazing. Thank you. You’re actually the best human to exist, you know that?” You gushed, feeling some of your anxiety immediately begin to disappear. 
Within half an hour, Ash was in your lounge room handling Charlie’s nap time negotiations while you were furiously typing away at your laptop at the kitchen counter and fielding more frantic phone calls from your boss. Another 20 minutes passed before Ash proclaimed victory as Charlie lost her battle against sleep, and he came to see you in the kitchen and make a start on dinner. You were so lost in your task that you didn’t hear him come in, and you jumped a mile out of your seat in fright when he gently touched your shoulder in greeting.
“Jesus christ, Ash! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You huffed, taking your glasses off and rubbing your eyes in exhaustion. 
Ashton leaned on the counter opposite you and raised his eyebrows in concern. “Sorry love, didn’t realise you didn’t hear me come in. You good?” 
Damn it, why was he always so nice to you these days? Remember the days when you were scared of him because he used to argue with you about politics and the state of the world? Why did those seem somehow easier because fear was more natural to you than whatever this other feeling was that you were starting to have whenever Ashton was around you. 
You sighed and put your glasses back on, frowning briefly at the screen before hitting save one more time (just in case your bad luck took a turn and fucked you over with lost documents). 
“Yep. Sorry. It’s just been a bit of a day. Did Charlie go down okay?” You forced a smile as you glanced up at Ashton over the top of your laptop screen. 
“Yeah, she gave in once I offered another bedtime singalong. And maybe, juuuust maybe, I might have mentioned something about some sweets after dinner…” Ash looked at you guiltily, licking his lips nervously. You rolled your eyes and shook your head at him, but you couldn’t keep the small smile off your face.
Ashton got started on making spaghetti while you tapped away at your computer, and soon enough you heard Charlie calling out for Ashton in her little sing-song voice on the baby monitor you had set up on the kitchen counter (“Asht-aaaaa! Where are youuuuu! Asht-aaaaa!”). The spaghetti smelled incredible, and when Ashton brought Charlie into the kitchen from her nap and she’d had a little while to play a bit more, you settled at the kitchen table to tuck into some dinner. Well, Charlie was more interested in playing with her food than actually eating it, but yours was delicious and for the third or fourth time that day, you thanked Ash profusely for being such a gem (to which he just gave you one of those dazzling smiles in response).  
After dinner, Ashton took Charlie for a bath and read her a bedtime story while you powered through the final part of the project edits you needed to finish before your boss burst a blood vessel. You could hear Ashton reading to Charlie on the baby monitor, doing all of the different character voices, and her little giggles in response were both breaking and warming your heart. Warming it with the cuteness and how much you loved that little girl and her cheeky soul, and breaking it with the guilt about how it was supposed to be you snuggled up reading to her, but instead you were frantically typing about key messages, marketing strategies and budget lines. You were doing your last section of re-writes when Ash came back into the kitchen, and this time you didn’t jump when he gently placed his hands on your shoulders. In fact, you leaned into his touch, and moaned quietly in relief as his thumbs began to work into the tension in your muscles.
“How’s it going?” Ashton asked quietly, continuing to press his hands into your back and shoulders.
“Almost there. Mostly just proof-reading now, and then I can send it and not fucking think about it for another second until at least Monday. Ash, I’m so sorry again, I know this isn’t what you had in mind for your Friday night and I should’ve been more organised but I just didn’t think that -” You began to ramble, feeling the guilt wash over you.
“Hey, hey. Stop. It’s fine. We’re a team, remember? The dynamic duo? Gotta stick together. We’ve got a whole lifetime of dealing with Charlie meltdowns and milestones ahead of us, love. It’s our job and our blessing, for the rest of forever. Don’t feel guilty over one night.” Ashton said softly, squeezing your shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. There were those butterflies again, and your skin was almost burning from where his hands had touched you. You simply nodded at his words, before returning to your laptop and the task at hand. Ashton stepped away and quietly began washing the dishes (honestly, is there anything this man didn’t do?) as you began typing again. 
Finally, about twenty minutes later, you hit send on the email to your boss with the completed rewrites, and shut your laptop with a deep sense satisfaction, letting out a triumphant whisper-yell, mindful of the sleeping child down the hallway from you. Ash looked up from where he was sat on the couch, scrolling on his phone, and rushed over to high-five you when he realised that you’d shut your laptop.
“Right. You go shower and I’ll put the kettle on, then it’s one episode of Sons of Anarchy and then off to bed with you.” Ash began, tugging you out of your seat and pushing you towards your bedroom before you could protest.
“Wait… how did you know I was watching Sons of Anarchy?!” You turned and asked, with one hand on the door to your bedroom.
“I was stalking through your Netflix earlier when you were lost in editing land. Plus, I know you can’t resist a charming male lead who has a killer smile and looks damn good in a leather jacket.” Ash chuckled, shooting you a wink and one of those goddamn smiles. 
You hated to admit it, but you felt so much better after your shower, and having Ash pull your feet up over his lap and absentmindedly run his hands softly across your legs from time to time wasn’t exactly bad either. You stuck to your promise of only one episode of Sons of Anarchy, and after pulling your groaning self up off the couch and jokingly half-carrying you to your bedroom door, Ashton bid you goodnight with a hug and a kiss to the forehead before disappearing into your guest room. 
As you settled into your own bed, alone, and pulled the blankets up over you, you couldn’t help but think how nice it was to have Ash so present with you and with Charlie, and how sweet it would be in the morning to wake up together in the same house and go for breakfast at your favourite little brunch spot down the street, before waiting for James and Alice to return in the early afternoon. It was all your own little family unit, and as you felt yourself being lulled into sleep, you also felt a deep sense of content in your heart about the loved ones in your life. And then also there were those butterflies, just slowly but surely making their presence known, and getting a little bigger every time you thought of Ashton, and how much he loved Charlie, and how much she loved him and you, and how much you loved them both.
Shit. Did you actually love him? Were you falling in love with Ashton Irwin? Before you could panic too much, the need for sleep won out, and you slept peacefully knowing two of your favourite people were also sleeping calmly in the rooms either side of you. 
More writing here | send feedback/thoughts/suggestions here
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ryansunsolved · 5 years ago
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Request: Stripper AU, but Shane’s the stripper and no one knows until Ryan ends up at the club where Shane works because it’s a new club.
I’ve seen this prompt floating around tumblr recently but I’ve never seen someone make Shane the stripper in this AU, so kudos to you anon for being creative and providing us with some god-tier stripper!Shane content. I mean, look at that boy’s legs!
sweet as wine
There he was, like disco superfly I smell sex and candy here Who's that lounging in my chair?
Read below the cut or here on ao3
Look— none of this would have happened if Steven Lim wasn’t a scheming little weasel who doesn’t respect the sanctity of Chubby Have I Bunnied.
“Never have I ever lived in Arcadia, California,” Steven said through a mouthful of marshmallows.
 It was foul— but fair play, and an obvious payback for Ryan’s earlier targeted question at Steven. Ryan laughed and begrudgingly fit another extra large marshmallow into his cheeks, nudging Shane.
 “I feel like you have” he smiled, pointing a finger at him.
 “Hm? Have I ever lived in Arcadia, California?”
 “Oh, I thought you said slept,” Ryan snorted, a rogue marshmallow falling out of his mouth like a crewmate jumping ship.
 Shane bit his lip, remembering that one time, years ago when he and Ryan had just started working at Buzzfeed as interns, Ryan inviting him to stay at his parents’ house in Arcadia. He remembered that night all too clearly— the night of their first and only kiss.  It was as though they reached some silent agreement to never mention it again, and Shane didn’t dare to, keeping their work relationship and his own feelings separate. But that was ages ago, and even if Shane’s feelings were still virulent in moments like these when Ryan looked soft and sure, leaning into his space, he had gone this long without mentioning it.
 No need to ruin a good thing,  he thought bitterly, and begun to wonder if he would have to dig out that old journal sooner than expected.
 Ryan had lost the game, forced to spit a congealed mess of mashed-up marshmallow into the staff sink, much to the mutual disgust of his co-hosts, and that’s when shit hit the fan.
 “Ryan, since you’re the loser, I think you should face punishment of some sorts,” Steven said thoughtfully, grinning as he reclined back in his chair.
 “Now, now, let’s be civil,” Shane tutted, Ryan rising to meet Steven’s eye beside him.
 “Like what?”
 “Oh, I don’t know...” Steven hummed, twiddling his fingers. Shane could practically hear the gears turning in his head.
 Steven and Ryan had always had this peculiar rivalry of sorts. It was usually victimless and in terms of workplace conflict, relatively mild, but sometimes it got carried away. Shane could think of about ten different instances off the top of his head where the two had gone head-to-head.
 “What about...you have to go to a strip-club—“
 “What?!” Ryan burst into laughter, head tilting towards the ceiling as he snorted into his hands, “Wha—  why?”
 “—for two hours, with the boys,” Steven finished, “Come on, Ryan, it’ll be fun.”
 Shane instantly paled, pulse hot and wild beneath his skin, Ryan’s laughter muffled below the ringing in his ears. He swallowed thickly, only shaken from his thoughts by Ryan’s hand, searing hot on his thigh.
 “What do you say, Big Guy? You, me, Big Apple Steve, and T.J. out on the town this Friday?”
 Shane looked at Ryan’s sunshine smile, those glittering brown eyes, completely unaware of the inner turmoil Steven’s simple gag had sent him into. Ryan’s touch seemed to brand his skin beneath his skinny jeans. He shivered, putting on what he hoped was a composed face.
 “Sorry, boys,” he said breezily, “m’afraid I’ve got plans.”
 “Booooo,” Steven called after him as he hobbled unsteadily to his feet, making a bee-line for the water cooler.
 Ryan laughed, adding a few taunts of his own, but as Shane cooled his burning face against his aluminum water bottle, he noticed Ryan’s curious glance, as if trying to read Shane’s mind
____
Okay—Shane hadn’t lied. He really was busy on Friday night. What important plans he had, he couldn’t say, not even as Ryan continued to pester him for the rest of the week. He supposes that considering the nature of said aforementioned plans, it would have been wiser to cancel them altogether and just tag along. It would be easier right? He could see Ryan get drunk and danced upon by a few scantily-clad women and then Uber it back home after knocking back a few brewskis himself. But it wasn’t his fault— how was he supposed to know that the strip club Steven would drag Ryan to would be the same strip club Shane worked at?
 Look, Shane wasn’t down on his luck by any means— he had recently started a promising new company with two of his closest friends and colleagues, and was still receiving a cushy contracting cheque from Buzzfeed for their Unsolved series. And despite his recent exit out of a long-term relationship, he liked to think he was doing pretty well, co-parenting a cat with a woman he still very much considered a good friend. But Los Angeles was an expensive place to live, and despite his nonchalant attitude in the Watcher Weekly, he couldn’t help but wonder, if it all went south, what would his backup plan be?
 Besides, why did strippers always need some tragic background story to justify what they do? Couldn’t they just dance because they enjoyed it? 
Shane certainly did, and it came as a real surprise. He never actually expected to take his brother’s friend up on the offer when Finn dragged him to a bar one weekend. They were four drinks in, intoxicated by the booze and fluorescent lights of the dim club, but that single passing comment ended up thrusting Shane into what would eventually become his side job and newfound passion.
 “You could probably strip,” he joked, knocking back some fruity drink, “got the legs for it and everything.”
 The guy was piss-drunk and drenched in body glitter— not exactly the kind of person you would take moral advice from, but nevertheless, Shane woke the next morning with a pounding head and an odd curiosity. It was a joke at first— like one of those bizarre hypotheticals your brain sometimes conjures up. But you never actually  act  on them. The only problem was that he did, and by the time he had secured his first gig, he could no longer deny that he was actually  interested  in a job like this. Okay, so what? He was a young, attractive man living in a particularly liberal part of L.A. 
He shouldn’t have to prove himself, or feel ashamed about what he does. Hell, half the people he worked with were gay and heavily involved in the nightclub scene. And yet still, he found himself choosing not to mention this particular part of his life to his coworkers—  especially not Ryan.
 It just never came up, and Shane never thought that it would— that was before Ryan showed up at his strip club.
 ____ 
The atmosphere hit Ryan like a freight train the second two intimidating bouncers begrudgingly lifted up two velvet ropes, letting him, Steven, and T.J. into the nightclub.
 It was rather upscale, and nothing like the sleazy, smoke-filled joints Ryan remembered from his college days. The walls were black marble, lined with tasteful vintage band posters and neon hanging emblems. An authentic-looking jukebox sat nestled in the corner, and along the stage, a line of attractive dancers had started to form.
 “I can’t believe they still I.D’ed me at the door,” Ryan shouted above the music, vibrating intensely through the floor and walls.
 Steven grinned, “Well, you know what they say— Asian don’t raisin.”
 “What—“ Ryan laughed, unaware if Steven could even hear him over the noise, “I’ve never heard that before.”
 Steven smiled and nodded towards a nearby waitress, leaning in closer to Ryan’s ear, “Maybe you can try to get a free drink. You never know!”
 T.J. rolled his eyes, “Meet me at the bar by twelve. And try not to do anything that’s going to get us arrested.”
 With that he left, striking up a conversation with the bartender. T.J. was a married man with a newborn baby at home— a strip club was the last place he wanted to be, but he obliged to humour Ryan and to provide a ride home if needed.  Ryan, however was recently single. He and Mari had broke things off amicably about a month prior, giving her more freedom to explore her blooming career and Ryan more opportunities to film things for Watcher without feeling guilty about time spent away from home.  They were on good terms, but breakups were never easy, and Ryan was more than happy to get his mind off the situation and get himself back into the dating pool. He suspected Steven’s intentions were as such when he suggested this in the first place, and overcome with a sudden wave of affection for the man, slung an arm around his shoulder.
 “C’mon, Big Apple Steve. Let’s go find us some dancers.”
 _____
 The performances were impressive. Sultry but tasteful, dozens of dancers strutted the stage, winding around glimmering silver poles like black cats, smoky eyes glittering down at the crowd.  There were a few men in the mix too, clad in tight, cropped black clothes, rippling with muscle underneath. Ryan paid no mind to them, used to L.A.’s diverse, open culture, and after knocking back a few drinks, he even found himself eyeing them as much as the girl performers.  It was then that his heart stopped dead in his chest, pushing away the slow haze of liquor from his mind as his eyes zeroed in on one tall figure working the stage.
   The man was unbelievably tall— towering above the rest of the performers, even the ones in six-inch heels. Through the rips in his black jeans, he could see his pale skin, broken up by delicate lace fishnets clinging to his slim long legs.  As the man peeled his shirt off, his collarbones jutted outwards, lean muscle trailing downwards from between his chest. His makeup was minimal— just smudged black eyeliner and a light dusting of glitter down his cheeks and pecs, hair mussed up as if he’d just had sex.  He swayed gracefully to the music, toying with the button of his jeans teasingly, stalking the pole like a predator before swinging around it once, smoothly. Ryan’s jaw dropped, and as he made eye contact with the stranger, the man visibly blanched.
 “I...” Ryan choked out, pants alarmingly tight as a hot coil wound inside his stomach.
 And then Shane was running off the stage, disappearing behind a blue velvet curtain as the music boomed on.
 “Wow,” Steven said, equally as baffled.
 “I...I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” Ryan said shakily, nearly tripping over his seat.
 He stumbled towards the floor, and much to his own surprise, he found himself ignoring the neon green restroom sign, heading straight for the backstage instead.
 ____
He found Shane hunched over a vanity with smudged makeup and a lit cigarette like a tragic Hollywood star drowning in self pity and body glitter.
 “I’m not offering any private dances right now,” he grumbled, voice muffled by his hand.
 “I...” Ryan said, unsure of what the proper protocol was upon finding your friend naked and grinding on a stripper pole.
 He was even less sure about how to gracefully navigate that conversation with a raging boner.
 “Oh,” Shane said softly, taking in a sharp breath.
 “I—“
 “Look—“
 They both spoke at the same time, laughing quietly like it was some kind of Mexican stalement and not the singlehanded most confusing moment of their entire friendship thus far.
 “You first,” Shane said almost shyly, and it occurred to Ryan then that for the first time in their dynamic, Shane might be more scared than him.
 “I had no idea,” he said lamely, and cast his gaze back at his sneakers.
 Nice going, Bergara. Real smooth.
 Shane laughed dryly, “Yeah, that...that was kinda the whole point. Who woulda thought Steven would pick the only strip club I’m working at tonight, huh?”
 Ryan smiled, scratching his neck, “Yeah. Uh— I just...” he looked at Shane, biting his lip, “Why didn’t you tell me? I know it’s none of my business what you do in your spare time but...we’re friends, Shane. You know you can share this stuff with me, right?”
 Shane looked down at his lap, looking guilty, “I know, Ryan, I just...” he sighed, “I don’t know.”
 “I mean,” Ryan shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. It was decidedly hard to have a serious conversation when your incredibly hot friend was half naked and sweaty in front of you. “Is it for money or—“
 “No,” Shane said instantly. He shook his head, “I just...” he trailed off, looking at Ryan and offering a halfhearted shrug, “like it, I guess.”
 Ryan nodded, furrowing his brows, trying to take all this information in through his beer-clouded mind.
 “Okay,” he said finally.
 Shane looked at him, looking surprisingly vulnerable and almost small in his chair, “Okay.”
 Ryan swallowed thickly, “You were really good out there.”
 Shane snorted, scratching at his chin, fingers scraping against his beard with a soft sound that send another confusing jolt of heat towards Ryan’s groin.
 “Yeah?”
 “Yeah,” Ryan said, surprised at how deep his voice sounded. He began to walk towards Shane, seemingly not by his own accord. “Really good.”
 “You already said that,” Shane said smiling, looking amused.
 “Really good,” Ryan repeated, voice husky and thick in his chest. Shane’s eyes were wide, and from their close distance, he could see as they dilated, eyes darkening further.
 He licked his lips, feeling dizzy with the intensity of it all, high on the sight of Shane before him, “Still not doing any private dances tonight?”
 “I...” Shane trailed off, looking at his lips, “I might be able to make an exception.”
 “Yeah?”
 “Yeah.”
 Like moving through water, Shane slowly stood up, drawing up a chair, pushing on Ryan’s chest until he fell back into it, breaths laboured as they tore through his chest.  Shane circled the chair once, twice, dragging his fingertips teasingly against Ryan’s low collar before stopping in front of him, dropping gracefully  to the ground on the balls of his feet, smiling coyly at him, gripping his chin.  He got up again, slowly swinging his hips and trailing his hands along his thighs, dragging them up his hardened pecs before threading them through his hair, giving it a resolute tug. He poised one of his long legs on the arm of Ryan’s chair, the impressive bulge in his jeans in direct eyesight as he dragged Ryan’s gaze up to meet his own.
  Shane slowly pivoted, fully into the dance now, a small smile on his face as he ground back against Ryan, grabbing his hands and placing them on his thighs, where fishnets poked out of the leg of his jeans. Ryan’s breath faltered in his lungs,  “Holy fuck,” he gasped, the air knocked out of him like he’d just taken a football to the chest. His fingers twitched along the exposed line of skin, feeling like a teenager creaming his pants after getting to first base.
  What the fuck.
 And then Shane was pulling away, dragging him by the hand to a small couch in the middle of the room.
 “Shane, wha—“ Ryan was cut off by a strangled moan as Shane pushed him back into the cushions, straddling his lap with practiced ease.
 Shane smiled against his neck, starting to trail soft kisses along his jawline as he began to unbutton Ryan’s shirt.
 “Fuck, Shane, I—“ he panted nonsensically, hands exploring whatever expanse of skin he could reach.
 As Shane sucked a small bruise just under his ear, Ryan’s shirt popped open, nipples immediately hardening under the cool air as Shane began to grind softly down onto him, mouthing a hot line up his neck and clavicles.
 “Please, please,” Ryan moaned, reaching out for him. In his clouded mind, he wasn’t even fully aware of what he was asking for until he found it in between Shane’s parted lips. He  sighed into the kiss, hands cupping Shane’s cheeks as his settled on Ryan’s shoulders, rutting dirtily against the front of his jeans. Ryan gasped into the kiss, a strangled moan torn out of his lips as Shane drew his fingers down to pad at his sensitive nipples.
 “Fuck!” he groaned, thrusting his hips up to meet his movements.
 “Someone’s sensitive,” Shane murmured in his ear, placing a teasing bite along his jaw.
 “Shane, Shane,” he breathed, eyes rolling back into his head.
 And then Shane took one pec into his mouth and Ryan Bergara was a dead man.
 “Ohhh!” he borderline whined, clawing at Shane’s smooth back as he nipped at the bud, laving his tongue over it and mouthing hotly between his sternum.
 He ground down once, twice, and eyes glittering, placing his mouth over his sensitive nipple, he reached down with his free hand and squeezed the bulge pressing against the zipper of Ryan’s jeans. With one plaintive moan and a stuttered,  Shane, Ryan bucked his hips up and stilled, wide-eyed and flushed pink under the soft lights, “I just came in my pants,” he said suddenly. “Oh my god.”
 Shane cracked up, slumping against Ryan and burying his nose in his shoulder, “Oh my god, Ryan.”
 “It’s not my fault you’re so hot!” he said defensively, clinging onto Shane as he blanketed his body warmly, pressing him into the couch. He pressed a small kiss to his exposed neck, and Shane smiled.
 “I’m never letting you live this one down,” he wheezed, clapping him once on the ass, “I guess the viewers were right about your nipple thing.”
 “S-Shut up, Shane,” he muttered, pinching him in the arm.
 Shane huffed out a laugh against his neck and as the air stilled, he shut his eyes, “So...should we talk about this?”
 Ryan shifted underneath him, “Nah,” he said groggily, leaning into his touch, “let’s do that when I haven’t had five brewskis.”
 “Five?” Shane laughed, “Your frat boy habits die hard, Ryan. You’re gonna be a real menace tomorrow.”
 “Well,” Ryan said slowly, tracing a line down his back, “maybe you should come home with me and make sure my morning is tolerable.”
 “Oh yeah?”
 “Yeah,” Ryan said, feeling emboldened with each inch he grew closer to Shane, high off the post-orgasm bliss and the smell of Shane’s cologne warm and sweet against his skin.
 Shane grabbed his ass, “I fuckin’ love Steven Lim.”
 As Ryan dissolved into laughter, he couldn’t help but share the sentiment. And that night when he and Shane walked out of the bar hand-in-hand, he couldn’t help but wonder if this was Steven’s plan all along.
(send me a request!)
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lagycart · 4 years ago
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super ramen by rudifook, sri petaling.
found this ramen place on social media when i was just randomly browsing, and i’m so intrigued by how creative the menu are, just so many different flavors of ramens being offered. so we paid a visit last weekend during dinner to try for the first time. the restaurant was quite packed, but there was one or two tables available, so we didn’t have to wait.
their menu is indeed so attractive, wanted to try everything, it was so hard to decide. finally ordered the king of pork chop ramen and their april fool’s special - dark chocolate beef stew ramen for mains, salmon tataki as appetizer and kiss of melon for drink.
the mocktail is really pretty, has melon and mango jelly in it with a little fizz, which is enjoyable to drink, good thing that it’s not super sweet. salmon tataki was awesome, we totally enjoy this dish and it was emptied in record time. the half torched salmon just melts in your mouth, the oil with a hint of spiciness together with the pickled radish for sourness, it’s just a burst of different sensation and flavors.
king of pork chop ramen is indeed everyone’s favorite, we saw every table around us ordered this. the pork chop is huge, i like how simple yet flavorful it is and the skin is slightly crispy which makes the meat more enjoyable. the soup is appetizing as well, it’s a perfect match.
being someone adventurous and a chocolate lover, i decided to try their april fool’s menu - dark chocolate beef stew ramen, which sounds crazy. the dark chocolate was shredded on top of the dish when served, so there’s no actual taste of chocolate when enjoying the dish. it is supposed to help bring out the beef stew flavor, which is really amazing, i totally enjoy how yummy the broth is, and the beef is very tender, and so much too.
our dining experience was great, the staff are nice and efficient, and we got out food pretty quickly despite during busy hours. pricing here is above average but i think it’s quite worth it as you get to try something different, something creative which makes the dining experience fun.
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waywardaardvark79 · 5 years ago
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Yes, Mistress
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Summary: Dean and the reader accidentally switch bags, leading to a night of fun that neither one of them expected. 
Pairing: Dom Reader x Sub Dean
Warnings: language, smut, restraints
Word Count: 4,132
Dean was following after you to the garage, hot on your heels, and obviously unhappy with your sudden decision to back out of the hunt the three of you were supposed to go on to suddenly go out on your own. 
"I don't think it's a good idea for you to go alone." Dean said, for the hundredth time. 
"I told you I won't be alone. I'm meeting up with someone once I get there." you explained, keeping the details as vague as you could. 
"Who is it, and why'd they have to call you?" he asked, quickly stepping in front of you to block your path. "Why couldn't they call someone else?"
"Dean." you breathed out, tired of explaining yourself to him. "I told you, it was an old friend, and he called me and not someone else because I'm the best person for the job." you explained, dropping your bags at your feet, one hand coming up to poke him in the chest. 
Dean dropped his own bags next to yours, not willing to let you go so easily. He had to make sure you were safe, after all. 
"What's the job?" he asked, staring down at you. 
"It's a milk run, simple salt and burn." you said, crossing your arms across your chest.
Dean scoffed, "If it's so simple why couldn't this friend of yours do it on his own?" he asked, trying to trip you up. 
You shifted your weight, one hip jutting out to the side, "You know how hard it is to dig a grave by yourself and watch your ass at the same time. I'm just going to be an extra set of hands." you said. 
Dean narrowed his eyes at you, "You've never volunteered for grave digging in the two years that I have known you. It's like pulling teeth getting you to help me, so what's so special about this friend? Why are you willing to drop everything to help him?" he asked, not believing a word you were saying. 
"Well, maybe this friend of mine didn't bark orders at me like a drill sergeant. Maybe he didn't tell me to get my lazy ass down there and give him a hand. Maybe he asked me nicely. You know, you'd be surprised what you could get me to do if you just asked nicely." you said as you pulled your keys from your pocket and twirled them around your finger. "I should be back Sunday night." you added, knowing that you had to get on the road, this trip had been planned for months. 
"Y/N." Dean breathed out, completely frustrated with you, but he knew that once you had made up your mind you were unlikely to change it. 
"Sunday night." you said as you started to bend down to pick up your bags. 
"I got em'." Dean replied, bending to scoop up your bags and heading to your car. 
You opened the door while Dean tossed the bags in the back. You started to climb inside, but Dean was standing there looking like he still had a million things he wanted to say. 
"Don't get your panties in a wad. I'll be fine, and I'll be back Sunday night. I promise." you said before climbing behind the wheel and closing the door behind you. 
That was how it all started, with the simple mix up of a bag. 
You made it back to the bunker late Sunday night, the loss of your bag forced you to get a little creative, but everyone left satisfied so, you classified this weekend as a success. 
You left the car parked out front and decided to try and sneak in, the two days you had to prepare yourself for all of Dean's questions and comments suddenly not enough. 
You eased the door open and closed it behind you as quietly as you could before tip toeing down the stairs, the bags, one of them being Dean's, tossed over your shoulder as you tried not to make a sound. 
It was dark, no light at all as you silently made your way to your room. 
"How'd the hunt go?" Dean asked out of nowhere, causing you to jump, the bags on your shoulder falling to the floor with your sudden movement. 
He flipped on the lamp next to him, the soft glow allowing you to see him as he sat at the table, his hands running back and forth over something in front of him. 
"Fine. It was...fine." you said as you stepped closer to him, trying to see what he was toying with, your eyes widening when you realized it was one of your riding crops. 
"So, uh were you plannin' on tyin' the ghost up and spankin' it?" he teasingly asked. "Cause unless you know something that I don't, everything in that bag of yours would be pretty useless on a hunt. Hell, I didn't even know what some of that shit was." 
You threw your head back and sighed, "Dean...can we just...not do this now? I'm tired, and..." you tried to say before Dean cut you off.
"Oh, I bet you are, Sweetheart. It looks like you had a busy weekend." he said, slapping the crop down against the table. 
"Dear God, I am never gonna hear the end of this, am I?" you asked, knowing that he was going to tease you mercilessly. 
Dean smirked, "Maybe we could come up with a little agreement, and I promise I'll keep my mouth shut." he said, still tapping the crop against the table. 
"Agreement?" you asked. "Dean, I really don't think you have a clue about what all of this is, about what I do." you added. 
Dean shook his head, "I'm not gonna say I understand all of it, but I have a pretty good idea of what you do, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested." he said, his eyes never leaving yours. 
You placed your hands on the table and leaned down, "I take this very seriously and I don't appreciate you fuckin' with me." you said, never thinking that Dean would be one to be able to give control to another person. 
"I'm not fuckin' with you. I'm completely serious, Sweetheart." he said. 
You stood up straight, "I don't know, Dean. It's not something that you just jump into, and I don't know, it's me and you. Don't you think it would be a little weird?" you asked, different scenarios running through your mind. 
He stood from his seat and leaned over the table, "I don't think it'd be weird at all, and we don't have to jump right in. We could...you could..." he trailed off, not knowing where to go from there. 
"How about I walk you through all of the different services, things I provide and we'll go from there." you said, grabbing the reins and taking control. 
Dean swallowed nervously, never really expecting you to go along with him, "R-really?" he stammered. 
"You said you were serious, so am I." you said before turning to head towards your room. 
You stopped when you didn't hear him following after you, "I suggest you get a move on, Dean. We have things to discuss." you called out, only moving once you heard his hurried footsteps. 
You walked Dean through everything, explaining everything in excruciating detail before answering every question he had. 
After everything had been discussed he looked at you with bright eyes and an eager smile, "So, can we..." he trailed off, obviously both nervous and excited. 
You shook your head, a small smile on your face, "Not yet. Take a few days, make sure this is something you really want, and if it is then we'll go from there." you said, gesturing for him to stand. 
"But...I don't need a few days. I already know." he almost whined as you ushered him to the door. 
You looked up at him, your hand coming up to gently tap his cheek, "We'll talk about it in a few days." you said, before giving him a gentle shove out the door and closing it. 
                                                  Three Days Later
Dean cornered you in the kitchen, far too bright eyed and bushy tailed for that early in the morning. 
"Mornin' Dean." you greeted, barely able to hide your smile at how excited he was. 
"So, it's been a few days." he said, his arms coming up to cage you in. 
"Has it?" you asked, pretending that you hadn't noticed. 
Dean eagerly nodded his head, "And." he said. 
"And?" you questioned, prompting him to continue. 
"And, I still want to." he said before looking around to make sure that Sam wasn't in hearing range. "Even picked my safe word, just like you told me to." 
"You did? Well, someone has been a very good boy." you praised, noticing how Dean lit up at your remark, and making a mental note to yourself about his obvious praise kink. 
"So, does that mean we can?" he asked, the shaking of your head making his face fall. 
"The next time Sam goes out for a little while. Things can get loud sometimes, and I really don't want to scar him." you said, lifting his arm out of your way and walking away from him. 
You were almost to your room when you heard Dean yell Sam's name at the top of his lungs, the corner of your mouth quirking up at his eagerness. 
About an hour later there was a pounding at your door. You closed the book you were reading and sat up on the edge of the bed, listening as the pounding increased, as if he were growing more impatient by the second. You smiled to yourself and finally decided to let him come in, fearing that he may break down the door if you were silent much longer. 
"Come in." you called out, your voice calm. 
Dean burst through the door, looking anything but calm, and slammed the door behind him. "Sam's gone." he breathed out, a wild look in his eyes. 
"Is that so?" you asked, standing from the bed. 
Dean furiously nodded his head, "Mmm Hmm." 
You walked towards him, stopping once you were about a foot away from him. 
"And you remember the rules?" you asked, wanting to make sure that he remembered everything the two of you had discussed. 
"Yes." he replied, almost buzzing with a nervous energy. 
You furrowed your brows at him, displeased with his answer, "Yes, what?" you asked, impatiently tapping your foot. 
Dean swallowed nervously, internally cursing himself for his mistake, "Yes, Mistress." he said. 
You nodded, "And you understand that you can use your safe word at any time and we'll stop immediately?" you asked. 
"Yes, Mistress." he said, not making the same mistake twice. 
You gave him a small smile of approval, "Good boy." you praised, Dean's eyes lighting up at your words, "And your word, what is it?" you asked. 
"Poughkeepsie, Mistress." he answered, his eyes glued to you. 
You raised your hand and crooked your finger to beckon him closer, backing up towards the bed as you did so. 
Dean quickly followed your command, more than eager to get things started. 
You stepped to the side and pointed towards the bed, "Strip." you commanded, your tone leaving no room for arguments, not that he had any. 
You stood back and watched as he quickly undressed and stood before you unashamedly naked, eagerly awaiting your next command. 
You didn't speak right away, just simply circled around him, your eyes roaming his body and taking in every detail, from those bowed legs, to his thick thighs, thighs that you would definitely have to ride later. You let your eyes continue their journey, taking in the wide expanse of his freckled covered chest and those broad shoulders, your mind racing with all the things you wanted to do to him. 
"Good boys pick up after themselves." you said, finally tearing your eyes away from his body and pointing to the clothes on the floor. 
"Sorry, Mistress." he said, turning to pick up his clothes from the floor, giving you a perfect view of his ass. 
He neatly folded his clothes and placed them in a pile on the top of your desk, his boots perfectly lined up next to yours. 
"Good boy, now get on the bed." you instructed, Dean quickly obeying and now laying in the center of your bed. 
Once he was settled you opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out a key before walking to the large wooden chest you kept in the corner of the room. You opened the chest and retrieved the item you needed, leaving it open because you knew you would be coming back to it soon. 
You laid the item on the end of the bed before walking towards the head of the bed and taking Dean's wrist into your hand and raising it above his head. 
You grabbed the restraint that was hanging, hidden, at the top corner of the bed and placed his wrist in the leather cuff, quickly strapping and locking him inside before moving to the other side of the bed to give his other wrist the same treatment. 
"Are you ok?" you asked, watching as he gave the restraints a pull to test them out.
The other end of them was secured to the bed frame and you knew the only way he was going anywhere was if you let him out. 
"Yes, Mistress." he said, his eyes landing on the item at the end of the bed. 
"It's a spreader bar." you explained as you moved to the foot of the bed, strapping one of his ankles inside and giving him a moment to adjust before repeating the action with the other. "Still ok?" you asked, after a giving him a few moments to get used to the feeling. 
He took a deep breath in through his nose before slowly exhaling from his mouth, "Yes, Mistress."
"Good." you said as you walked back to the chest and retrieved a blindfold, letting it teasingly dangle from your finger as you walked towards him. 
Dean raised his head, without being asked, and you placed the blindfold on him, checking that it was secure and that he couldn't see anything before stepping away. 
"Remember to use your word if you need to." you said as you walked to the chest and pulled out a few items, placing them all on the side of the bed before walking back and grabbing a few more things you needed to get ready, purposely going slow to toy with him.
"Now, I'll be back shortly, but I won't be far so, if you need to use your word yell and I'll hear you." you explained. 
Dean nervously bit down on his lip, "Yes, Mistress." he finally said before you turned and walked out of the room, leaving him naked and blindfolded, tied to your bed, and completely at your mercy. 
Dean couldn't tell you how long he laid there waiting for you to come back, sometimes it seemed like only minutes had passed, but then again, it felt like an eternity. 
The clicking of what he assumed to be heels caught his attention and he felt his whole body tense as the sound drew closer. His breathing started to quicken as he heard a chair being dragged across the floor, the sound of your heels moving with it until there was nothing, silence. 
He jumped when he felt your nails graze up and down his thigh, going so desperately close to where he longed to feel your touch before quickly retreating. 
You continued to tease him, running your nails up and down his body, using a barely there touch, eventually pulling a needy whimper from him. 
"Is there something you want? Be a good boy and use your words." you said, still running your fingers up and down the length of his body. 
"I...I want to see you, Mistress." he said, a small hint of desperation in his voice. 
You pulled your hand from him, "You didn't say please." you said, bringing your hand up to his nipple and giving it a hard pinch. 
Dean sucked in a breath, "Please, please let me see you, Mistress." he begged. 
You stood back, making him wait a few moments before pulling the blindfold from his eyes. 
Dean blinked his eyes a few times, letting them adjust to the light before looking over at you, his hand instinctively trying to reach out to touch you and groaning when he realized that he couldn't. 
You smirked at him before moving to the side of the bed, your hand running over the items you had placed there earlier. 
Dean's eyes roamed your body, taking in the sight of you. The garter style stockings you were wearing, and the black, silk robe that hit at the top of your thigh, riding up whenever you bent over allowing him to see the curve of your ass,  causing a low moan to fall from his lips. 
You turned to face him, a cock ring in your hand, "This ok?" you asked, waiting for his approval before you put it on. 
"Yes, Mistress." he breathed out, a moan escaping when you put it on him. 
You stood back, admiring your handy work before untying the belt of your robe and shrugging it off your shoulders, giving Dean a full view of you in nothing but your heels and stockings. 
"Fuuuuuuuck." he whined, as you grabbed a vibrator from the bed and sat down in the chair you had placed next to the bed. 
Dean turned his head, needing a minute to collect himself. 
"Look at me, Dean." you said, bringing up your legs and hooking them over the arms of the chair, spreading yourself open for him. 
You took your hand and started to rub it down your body, cupping your breasts and slowly trailing lower until your middle finger started to rub languid circles around your clit. You lowered your hand, running your fingers through your folds before slipping your middle finger inside, Dean groaning and pulling at his restraints the entire time. 
"Now, be a good boy and  watch me." you said as you turned the vibrator on and touched the end of it to your clit, jumping a little at the vibration. 
You quickly worked yourself up, moaning and putting on quite the show for him. You knew you were close and you brought the vibrator back to your clit while you worked two of you fingers inside of you until you felt your body shake with your orgasm. 
"Please, Mistress." he begged, still desperately pulling at his restraints. 
"Would you like a taste?" you asked, your legs still spread wide open, and  your fingers still inside as you tossed the vibrator onto the bed. 
"Yes, please Mistress." he replied. 
You pulled your fingers from your pussy and stood from the chair, "Open." you demanded, Dean quickly obeying and opening his mouth. 
You stuck your fingers inside, "Suck." you said, and you felt his tongue swirl around your fingers, making sure he got every drop of you. 
You pulled your fingers from his mouth, Dean moaning at the loss of them, "You've been so good for me. I think you deserve a better taste. Would  you like that?" you asked as you looked down at him. 
"Yes, Mistress." he replied, his head nodding. 
You climbed on top of him and placed your knees on either side of his head, teasingly holding yourself over him just out of reach. "Beg." you ordered. 
"Fuck, please, Mistress. Please, let me taste you. I need to taste you." he pleaded. 
You lowered yourself onto his mouth, moaning at the feel of his tongue running through your folds. He brought his tongue up and circled around your clit a few times before sucking it into his mouth. 
"Oh, fuck...such a good boy." you moaned as you rocked your hips back and forth on his face, one of your hands coming down to tangle in his hair. 
Dean was moaning just as loud as you, getting off on the pleasure he was giving you. You looked over your shoulder to see his hips bucking, desperately searching for the friction he so badly needed, his cock so hard that it almost looked painful. 
You threw your head back as your second orgasm hit you, your legs squeezing around his head. 
"Good boy." you panted out. "Now clean me up." you added, Dean eagerly licking you clean. 
You started to work your way down his body, stopping once you were straddling his stomach, the feel of your wet pussy on his bare skin making him cry out. 
"Please, Mistress. Please." he begged, unable to form a coherent thought. 
You raked your nails down his chest, stopping to give each of his nipples a pinch, "Please, what? You have to use your words, Dean." you said, as you slid lower down his body, stopping when you felt his cock against your ass. 
"Please, let me be inside you, Mistress." he said, his hips trying to buck. 
"Hmm...I don't think you've earned it yet." you said, rocking your hips back and forth, smearing your slick against his skin. 
Dean threw his head back as far as the pillow would allow and squeezed his eyes shut, "Yes, Mistress." he quietly said, and you were honestly surprised that he had held off for this long. 
You continued to work your way down, careful not to bump his cock as you straddled his thigh, "Eyes on me." you demanded before you started to ride his thigh. 
You brought your hands up to cup your breasts and give your nipples a few tugs, "You're so good, Dean...such a good boy." you panted out. 
"Mistress." Dean croaked out, causing you to immediately still yourself. 
"Yes, Dean?" you asked, despite knowing what he was going to say. 
"Mistress...I...need." he tried to say. 
"I know, Dean, and you've been so good for me." you said as you moved yourself so that you were hovering over his cock. "So good." you added, before plunging yourself down on him, both of you crying out when your body was flush with his. 
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." he panted over and over, as if it was the only word he was able to say. 
"Tell me how good I feel." you said, as you picked up your pace and started to ride him hard. 
"Fuck...so fuckin' good...Mistress...so good." he said, his head still tossed back and his eyes closed, almost as if he was trying to will himself not to cum. 
You slowed only long enough to reach behind you and grab the vibrator you had used earlier, turning it on and holding it over your clit as you increased your pace. 
"Be a good boy and cum for me." you instructed, knowing that your orgasm was nearing. 
You started to ride him harder, "I'm gonna cum, Mistress." Dean warned, and you felt him explode inside of you a few seconds later, a loud moan escaping his throat. 
You rocked your hips back and forth, the vibrator still held to your clit and followed him over the edge moments later, your pussy contracting around his cock as you slowed your pace, slowly working the two of you through it. 
You finally stilled yourself, turned the vibrator off, and pulled yourself off of him, Dean hissing with your movement. You unsnapped the cock ring before reaching up to free his wrists, bringing them down and gently taking them into your hands to inspect the damage. You moved to the foot of the bed and released his ankles. 
"Don't move." you instructed as you got up and grabbed your robe from the floor. 
You walked out of your room and into the bathroom, quickly grabbing the first aid kit and making your way back to your room. Dean was still in the same spot when you walked in, a blissed out look on his face. 
You sat down next to him, and started to clean the abrasions on his wrists, applying antibiotic ointment before bandaging them. 
"Are you ok?" you asked, once you had finished. 
Dean looked over at you with the most relaxed look you had ever seen on him, "I'm fuckin' awesome, Mistress." he answered. 
You chuckled, "You know, you don't have to call me that now. Y/N is fine." you said. 
"I think, no, I know I want to call you that again. If that's ok with you." he said, implying that he would like to play again. 
"Are you sure that's what you want? Next time I won’t go so easy on you." you said, looking down at him. 
Dean nodded his head, "Yes, Mistress." 
176 notes · View notes
animeniacss · 4 years ago
Text
A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 22 - Easily Distracted
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Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?
Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)
Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU
Length: approx. 4.9k words
Chapter 22 - Easily Distracted
        “Wait, really?” Disbelief washed over Jungkook as he looked up at his mentor. Taehyung had been venting about his most recent experience with you as the both of them sat around Taehyung’s kitchen table. Jungkook was finally preparing to enter his first art show, so he brought pictures of every work he had made thus far, and the duo spread them around the table to try and choose which would be the main focus, and which would be set aside. It was a difficult task, one Taehyung always dreaded because to him, all of his work deserved to be seen in the foreground. Taehyung set one of the pictures down and let out a frustrated sigh.
            “Yeah…” he said softly. “I knew I should have waited before I told her how I felt and now I think I screwed everything up with her.” Jungkook leaned forward on the table a bit, grabbing his bottled water and taking a sip.
            “Don’t think that way, Hyung. Did she immediately say she didn’t like you?”
            “Well, no. She needed time to think.” He said simply.
            “Then maybe she’s thinking about how she’ll say yes. Women are complex creatures, you know…” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow at the young high school boy as a playful grin formed on Jungkook’s face.
            “You’ve had a girlfriend for like a month and a half, relax.” He said, and Jungkook began to laugh. “You’re not a wise, old guru of love when you’ve barely held her hand.”
            “We have!” Jungkook’s eyes went wide, and now Taehyung was the one to burst out laughing. “You’ll see. She’s coming to see me at my art show with her friends. She’s nice, so you’ll definitely like her.”
            “Looking forward to it.” Taehyung smiled. “Anyway, let’s get back to this, okay?” Jungkook nodded, and Taehyung passed him a few photos. “I think if we align these right in front of your spot, it’ll really pop. Nobody makes works like this that I’ve seen, so they’ll pop out even if we’re farther back in the venue spot.” Jungkook nodded.
            “I agree.” He said, setting those aside. The duo continued working for a little while longer until Jungkook’s mother called him telling him to head home in time for dinner. Collecting his pictures, Jungkook headed to the door. On his way out, he turned to Taehyung.
            “I really don’t think you should worry,” Jungkook said simply. “If she wants time to think, she probably won’t take dates from Mr. Kim either. So, all you can do is wait for the results.” Taehyung offered him a small smile and patted his shoulder.
            “Get home safe, Jungkook.” He said simply. The boy nodded, heading out the door and down towards the elevator. Taehyung watched him for a moment, before closing the door. He hummed, heading straight into the kitchen to grab himself a beer. Maybe two.
            He didn’t need to be getting love advice from the high schooler.
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            “Mr. Kim!” An anxious Yuna shouted as she hurried onto the front playground of the school. Taehyung looked over from the swing set, where he was pushing Yeji and Soobin at the same time. “I wanna be pushed too.”
            “Okay, you can go next.” He smiled at her, and she squealed in excitement, watching her two friends practically fly away, higher and higher with every push on the swing set. He watched as Yuna’s mother left with a wave, and he nodded his head, turning his attention back to the kids. He had been trying to do that each morning and each afternoon, to keep his eyes on the children rather than in your direction. However, he found himself slipping up every now and again. His eyes darted from the swing set for a moment and caught a glimpse of you by the slide. You were watching as Chaeryeong and Lia slid down the slide together, squealing in delight as they held onto one another on the journey. You had not noticed him staring, because he looked back over at the swings just as they flew back towards him. Grabbing them, he quickly slowed them to a stop. “Okay, guys. Time to give someone else a turn.” Both children, compliant and mature, nodded and quickly hopped off, allowing Yuna to grab her spot on the plastic swing. As he began pushing her, he smiled as he saw Soobin and Yeji hurry to the other side of the playground.
            “I know how to jump from the swing when it’s super high!” Yuna shouted. Taehyung chuckled.
            “Oh really?” he asked curiously. “Let’s maybe not do that, though. It won’t be safe.” He offered one big push forward again, and Yuna shrieked in delight. He chuckled a bit until he heard a familiar voice.
            “Have a good day, Kai.” Taehyung felt his shoulders go rigid and he looked over towards the entrance of the preschool. There, he saw Namjoon, knelt as he offered his son a big hug, much to the boy’s delight. Taehyung immediately looked away, deciding it best to focus on the child he was pushing rather than the man who just walked into the premises. However, he could only do so much when out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Namjoon walked across the playground and in your direction. You met his gaze as you greeted Kai, before sending him off with his friends to play. Taehyung’s eyes now couldn’t focus on anything else, and they sat glued to you.
            “I was just wondering…” Namjoon began, and you knew quickly you would have to turn him down. You already knew what his request would be. “I was hoping I would be able to take you out again soon. I’m free this upcoming weekend and I was tempted to try this new place that opened up by my house.” You smiled at Namjoon as he shyly chuckled, his dimples poking through once again. “Only if you want to, of course.”
            “That sounds fun, Namjoon…” you said softly. “But I uhm…I’m not going to be accepting dates for a while.” Namjoon blinked, his shy smile curling up into a slight frown, an eyebrow cocked in curiosity. “Not that I don’t necessarily want to, it’s just a lot is going on right now.” You didn’t want to admit that your mind was taken up with thoughts of both him and Namjoon, both men who have been very upfront with their feelings for you and have sent you into the confinements of a three-sided love triangle with no means of escape currently in view. All you could do was sit in the middle and wait until one showed its face, even if it meant Namjoon and Taehyung were forced to sit and do the same. “I have my evaluations coming up and they’re always really stressful and…there’s just a lot of stuff, you know?”
            “Right,” Namjoon said quickly. “I understand. No worries, focus on all that first.” He smiled sweetly at you, and it made you feel a bit relieved, you had to admit. “But if you need anyone to talk to about anything, just give me a call, okay?”
            “Got it.” You said happily. Namjoon waved, before quickly calling out to Kai, who was dangling upside down from the monkey bars.
            “Kai, be careful!” He chuckled. Kai waved.
            “Teacher! Look at me!” You quickly hurried over, lifting your arms to get him down from his dangling spot, much to the dismay of him and his friends that were watching from the ground.
            “Kai, that’s dangerous…” you said softly, but Kai only offered a playful grin and giggled in amusement. Setting him back onto the floor, you sent him and the other boys off to play, Kai quickly taking your hand to lead you along with him. Namjoon smiled, before slowly making his way out of the daycare. He waved to Hoseok, who was sitting in the sandbox watching two little girls make a sandcastle. Then, he turned to Taehyung, whose eyes had yet to leave the tall, dark, and handsome man in thin-rimmed glasses.
            “Have a good day,” Namjoon said simply. Taehyung nodded.
            “Don’t try anything funny. I’m watching you. She made herself perfectly clear and-.”
            “I know, I heard her.” Namjoon interrupted quickly. Namjoon saw irritation written all over the younger boy’s face, and he couldn’t help but be amused. “I’m assuming she told you the same thing.”
            Taehyung was quiet for a moment but eventually nodded. “Yes.” He said softly. “Something along those lines.” Namjoon nodded.
            “Then for now I guess we can offer a temporary truce?” Namjoon grinned, hoping his playful joke would land. However, when Taehyung simply turned back to the swing set, Namjoon let out a sigh. “I was kidding.” He admitted.
            “Funny.” He said simply. He looked over at Namjoon once again. “Just don’t try anything funny until she’s ready.”
            “You make me out to sound like some kind of criminal,” Namjoon said simply. “I don’t feel that way towards you.”
            “Not as straightforwardly as I am, maybe.” He said simply. Namjoon frowned a bit.
            “You know, she’ll never go for you if you keep acting like an immature child.”
            “Imma-.” Taehyung glared at Namjoon now, feeling his anger rise. “And what makes you say that?” When he caught the swing again, his hands balled into fists as he pushed it once again.
            “I have a four-year-old son. I can see it from a mile away. You even pout like him.”
            “Mr. Kim. Watch this!” Yuna shouted from the swing, her voice slightly distorted from the wind hitting her face as she flew through it. Taehyung didn’t hear it though, the blood pumping in his ears as he turned to Namjoon.
            “I’m not acting like anything,” Taehyung said simply. “I’m just making sure you don’t keep overwhelming her with dates.”
            “I don’t intend to,” Namjoon said simply. “Why are you acting like I am? I literally told her I won’t bother her about it.”
            “I heard that little comment about being there if she needs you to talk, it’s such an obvious trick to get her to call you anyway.”
            “Mr. Kim, look!” Yuna shouted again, but it fell on deaf ears.
            “Is it really? Or are you just mad you were too selfish to offer her the same thing when she turned you down too?!” Taehyung’s eyes widened for a moment and he frowned. “And now you’re blaming it on me.” It made Namjoon chuckle a bit. “I guess she might find it cute, but if you ask me, it’s horribly unprofessional to act this way!”
            That was the word, the word that made Taehyung’s heart fall into his chest. It took him a moment to regain his composure, as much of it as he could, but he was finding it increasingly difficult. His hands balled into fists, and he glared at the taller man.
            “Tch…That’s not-!”
            Before Taehyung could say anything else, a high-pitched and childlike “Weeee!” alerted Taehyung’s attention to the right of him. He turned slightly, and for a moment, it felt as if everything was going in slow motion. Yuna’s little body was suspended in the air, arms and legs spread out in absolute glee as she flew. From the corner of his eye, he could see a group of kids at the sandbox watching their friend in glee, their mouths dropped open in shock. Hoseok was getting out of his spot at the sandbox and hurrying over. Just as Taehyung blinked, he heard someone shout:
            “Watch out, Taehyung!” However, before he could react, a hard piece of plastic slammed him in the face. Grunting, Taehyung flew backward and fell onto the ground, his head smacking onto the pavement. For a moment, he heard nothing but a loud buzzing in his ears, and he thought that he had died and gone to heaven. Good, maybe that’s where I should go… he thought to himself. However, slowly but surely, Taehyung could feel his arms and fingers twitch, he could feel the light of the sun poking at his eyes in an attempt to get them to open. He could hear children screaming, and the faint out of Seokjin’s voice. Another groan escaped his lips. He had to try to sit up and quickly lifted his head. However, a sharp pain flew across his head, from one ear to another, and his head simply slumped down to the floor again.
            “You might have a concussion, don’t move.” He heard a deep voice say. Taehyung tried to put a face to the voice, unable to for a moment.             Finally, however, it became clear as crystal who was talking to him.
            Or are you just mad you were too selfish to offer her the same thing when she turned you down too?!
            “Ghhh, don’t touch me, Kim Namjoon…” Taehyung groaned, his eyes still tightly held shut despite the pounding it caused in his head. He heard a snicker.
            “Well, he isn’t dead.” The voice hummed again. Taehyung was tempted to swing blindly above him, hoping that sheer luck to help him ‘accidentally’ knock this guy in his jaw. However, his body froze when a calmer, gentler voice flew through his ears like the perfect melody of a beautiful lullaby.
            “Taehyung? Are you okay?” She cooed. Taehyung groaned, feeling his eye muscles twitch a bit. “Hey, don’t open your eyes. Namjoon is right, you might have a concussion…just take it easy.” Taehyung could feel his head be lifted up gently, and a hand cupped behind him. “I don’t feel a bump. Let’s get you inside and give you some ice, just in case.”
            “Yeah…” Finally, Taehyung forced himself to sit up, and his eyes cracked open just a bit. He could see a dark skirt and colorful apron beside him, and when his eyes perked up just as a bit, as much as they could really, you were sitting beside him. Despite your calm voice, the worry was poking through your eyes and onto your entire face. “I’m fine.” He assured. “I just need some time to rest and-.”
            “Oh no.” Another voice chimed in, and when everyone looked up, Seokjin was standing there as well. “I’m not risking a lawsuit on a simple ‘I just need some time to rest’. I’m calling a medic to check on you, understand?”
            “Uh…” Before Taehyung could respond, he felt Seokjin take his arm.
            “Namjoon, take his other side and help me get him inside.” Taehyung groaned again but didn’t protest as Namjoon took his other arm and scooped him to his feet. “You guys get the kids inside,” Seokjin said simply.
            “Is Mr. Kim okay?” Soobin asked curiously as he stood by the sandbox.
            “Mr. Kim is going to be just fine,” Seokjin assured. “Now everyone, get in line and head in for the day, alright?” The kids silently did what they were told, following Hoseok and you inside with Namjoon and Seokjin dragging a barely functioning Taehyung behind. “Let’s go to my office. I have some supplies there.” Seokjin spoke. Taehyung groaned, letting his neck go limp and his head roll forward as he used what little strength, he had in his legs to follow the men.
            Taehyung was set on a comfortable chair, and his body finally got another moment to relax. He heard Namjoon and Seokjin speak before Namjoon left in fear of being late to work. Taehyung’s head was continuing to pound, and not until Seokjin turned the lights off and closed the curtains did he feel comfortable enough to open his eyes a crack. He watched as Seokjin walked over, slipping some ice behind Taehyung’s head. The cold chill of the ice course from his head to his neck and shoulder and Taehyung felt a sense of comfort and release.
            “Are you alright?” Seokjin asked. Taehyung nodded, draping his arm over his eyes. “I’m glad I was watching from the office window just at the right time. You looked very distracted.”
            “Yuna was calling at me to watch her and I didn’t hear her. Did she get hurt from jumping?”
            “No,” Seokjin assured. “She, unlike you, landed on the soft mulch around the swing set, so she just got a bit dirty. I think she was more worried about you anyway.” Taehyung sighed softly, biting his lip. “What were you two fighting about that you got so distracted?”
            “It’s nothing,” Taehyung said simply. “We weren’t even fighting.”
            Now, Seokjin had to laugh. “Oh really? Don’t try to fool me. Your eyebrows were furrowed from a mile away. The fire was basically coming up behind you, I’m amazed you also didn’t suffer third-degree burns.” Taehyung chuckled a bit. “You don’t have to tell me. I already have an idea. But I guess it’s none of my business. The man who saved your life and whisked you away to be medically treated.”
            “…Yeah, speaking of, where’s the nurse?”
            “We actually have one contracted at the urgent care right down the street. The person who owns the urgent care and the investor of the preschool are good friends, so they came to the agreement a few years back to try and save some money on both sides. So, for serious injuries, we call and they send a nurse over. We ended up closing the nurse’s office. With only one class, it was too much money to have an in-house nurse, so our investor saves lots of money this way.” Taehyung nodded, though he barely took in anything Seokjin said. “I think we should go back to having a nurse there all the time though.” He admitted. When he didn’t hear anything, he smiled. “You rest. Hoseok called the urgent care and they should be here soon.” Taehyung could hear Seokjin walk to the door, careful to close it as he exited. Taehyung was alone in Seokjin’s office, his head pounding as he sat silently in the darkened room with only the sensation of the ice pack on his head to keep him from falling asleep.
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            Taehyung was not sure how long he sat in the dark office resting in the chair before the medic arrived at the school, but before he knew it, he was propped up with lights shining in his eyes, vitals being checked, and multiple questions of what happened being showered on him at once. He answered to the best of his ability, but his head was pounding so hard it felt like someone was attending a rock concert in there.
            “Well, it’s a very minor concussion.” The doctor said. Taehyung nodded, expecting as much. “I advise going home, taking the next day or two off, and resting up. If you force yourself to do anything, then you’ll only make it worse.”
            “Right. Thank you.” The doctor handed Taehyung a piece of paper.
            “Here’s a prescription. Get it filled and go home.” She smiled sweetly at him, before excusing herself and getting ready to leave. Taehyung watched her exit, opening the door as she stepped out. However, he also saw you there, chatting with the doctor for a moment before making your way into the office, closing the door behind you. Taehyung sighed, looking away. This was not something he was in the mood to deal with.
            “Are you okay?” you asked softly as you pulled up a chair beside him.
            “I’m fine. A few days of rest and I’ll be back.”
            “Okay, if you’re so sure.” You hummed. “That swing hit you hard, and the pavement. I’m glad the concussion was the only minor.” Taehyung nodded. “I saw you and Namjoon fighting….I was about to come over and say something, but the next thing I know is-.”
            “-Is I’m getting slammed onto the floor and Yuna turns into a rocket and goes flying.” Taehyung huffed. You could sense how angry he was with himself. “I can’t believe that happened, right in front of him. I think that’s what he wanted, for me to lose my cool.” You sighed softly.
            “Don’t think that way.” You said softly. “Do you need a ride home? You shouldn’t take the subways like this….” Taehyung thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay, I’ll talk to President Kim.”
            “Yeah…” Taehyung said. He finally rolled his head in your direction, looking at you with half-lidded, semi-glossy eyes. “Sorry. Looks like you’ll have to do art again for the next few days.” You smiled a bit.
            “I think I can manage now that you’ve taught me everything you know. I’m practically a natural.” Taehyung smiled as he closed his eyes again. You bit your lip, before gently placing a hand on his arm. Not too sure how to offer comfort, you rubbed it gently. The sensation made Taehyung feel all tingly inside, and he hummed softly. It was a relaxing feeling, one that took his mind away from the war raging in his brain. After a moment, you slowly pulled your hand away. Taehyung’s eye cracked open to see you turn your head, most likely preparing to get up. Without thinking, he quickly took your hand, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide in shock. He didn’t do anything, he just held it; squeezed it for a moment, as if he was pushing through the stinging sensation of a shot only to release your hand once again. When he looked up at you, he quickly retracted his hand.
“Sorry…” he mumbled.
“Don’t worry.” You assured, finally standing up. “I’ll go find President Kim, okay? Is there someone you can call to get you?”
            Taehyung thought for a moment. There was only one person.
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            “ARE YOU OKAY?!” A frantic Park Jimin burst through the doors of Seokjin’s office. Seokjin looked up from his computer, and Taehyung groaned at the noise, his head lifting up as well. “Namjoon-Hyung told me as soon as he got into work. What happened, Tae?”
            “Nothing serious. Just got hit with a swing set, standard pre-school procedure.” He heard Seokjin snort a little from behind his desk. “Just take me home, I’m exhausted.”
            “Tae you can’t sleep with a concussion. You could die!”
            “Watch me.” He hissed. Jimin picked him up, swinging an arm over his shoulder.
            “Feel better, Taehyung.” Seokjin waved, watching as Jimin led him out of the office and to the exit of the preschool. Seokjin spun around in his chair, watching out the window as Taehyung was helped into Jimin’s car, the latter slipping into the driver’s side and pulling out of the parking lot. Seokjin hummed, exhaling a long breath before turning back to the computer and typing away. He now had an extensive amount of paperwork to fill out because of this injury, so he needed to get to work.
            As Jimin drove, he looked over to Taehyung, who was resting his head against the window. His eyes were closed, but it didn’t seem like he was sleeping. Still, Jimin didn’t want to be too careless.
            “Tae?” he hummed. His friend offered a groan in response, his eyes fluttering open. “I have glasses in the glove box. Put them on to help with the light sensitivity.” As Taehyung’s hand reached forward, grabbing the glasses, Taehyung looked back at the road. “So, what happened?”
            “I just got hit with a swing set because I wasn’t paying attention, that’s all…”
            “No, no. I know that. Namjoon-Hyung told me.” Despite the dark glasses on Taehyung’s face, he could still feel the daggers poking through them and into Jimin’s skin. “What happened that you weren’t paying attention?”
            “Oh, of course, he keeps that part out of the story, hm?” Taehyung scoffed. “I told him not to try anything funny because he asked her out on a date and we started arguing and he was just being annoying and-.” As he continued to ramble, Namjoon’s words hit his mind once again.
            You’re just mad that you were too selfish to offer a hand yourself, aren’t you? And you’re taking it out on me.
            “And yeah…” Taehyung finished. “That’s all…” Jimin glanced over at his friend once again, sighing softly. It wasn’t long after that, they pulled into the parking lot of Taehyung’s apartment. The duo got out and made their way inside. “God, I’m exhausted.”
            “I already said you can’t sleep with a concussion.” Jimin scoffed as they went up the elevator. “Sit up with some ice, I’ll dim the lights, but you can’t sleep.”
            “All of those things make me want to sleep,” Taehyung said. Jimin unlocked Taehyung’s apartment, leading him inside the bedroom and helping him onto the bed. He quickly turned the lights off.
            “Stay there, I’ll grab ice.” With Jimin gone, Taehyung stared up at the ceiling, waiting until his eyes adjusted in the dark before he was able to start making out outlines of various things in his room. When that simple act began causing his eyes to tense, he quickly shut them again, groaning to himself. When Jimin returned, he set the ice on his forehead. “Hyung gave me the rest of the day off, so I’ll stay here with you, okay?”
            “You don’t have to do that…Go back to work,” Taehyung begged.
            “Too late. I already punched out for the day.” Jimin giggled. “I’ll be in the living room. Holler if you need me.”
            “I seriously don’t need-.” Jimin immediately shut him up with a simple ‘shhhhhh’.
            “Stop arguing. You don’t have a girlfriend to take care of you, so until that happens, I need to make sure my spot as doting house husband is secured.” Taehyung grinned a bit, a grin Jimin could easily make out in the dark. He reached forward, propping up Taehyung’s head just slightly. “There. Now if you do fall asleep, you won’t die.” He said, before finally exiting the room.
            “You’re overreacting,” Taehyung called, but was not giving a response. Once he was left alone in the room again, Taehyung looked down at his hand. It lifted above his head, and he took a moment to make out its outline by continuously squeezing it into a fist. As he did so, he thought of all the things he was about to do today with that fist, things he is now forced to put on hold.
            Ball up clay with the kids.
            Grip the sides of the swing set for a child,
            Punch Namjoon in the jaw.
            Hold your hand.
            That last one sat in his mind for a moment, jumping back to the office when he quickly grabbed and squeezed your hand. The look of shock on your face made him feel immensely guilty. Only one thing sat in his mind: Here I am, telling him not to overstep his boundaries, and I’m being a total hypocrite. Maybe I deserved to get slammed onto the floor… The thought pissed him off to no end, and he slammed his fist on the bed in frustration, before forcing his eyes closed.
--------------------------------
            Namjoon sat in his office that morning, resting against the back of his chair as he spun it around to stare ahead at the vast amount of Seoul scenery before him. He rested his chin on top of a balled-up fist and remained silent. He had sent Jimin to pick up and stay with Taehyung because he knew he shouldn’t be home alone after such a serious injury. He had no intention of letting the man suffer, despite how childish he seemed to be in regards to you. As he sat, he thought back to the moment the incident happened.
            Ghhhh…don’t touch me, Kim Namjoon…. he remembered Taehyung growling, which actually amused him. As he knelt beside the man, he watched as you hurried over, kneeling down and gently lifting his head into your lap. He watched as your brows furrowed together in intense worry, and how calmly you spoke to him in hopes to keep him calm as well. Namjoon had to admit that at that moment, he was a bit jealous. If he could get the same treatment, excluding the head injury, he would feel as if he was on cloud nine! However, that was not the case.
            No matter how much Namjoon wanted to admit it to himself, he had begun to notice it. Every time he had seen you and Taehyung together, whether it be at the museum, or at the daycare, the looks on your face were always much more genuine than Namjoon could ever hope to have when you were with him instead.
            “Mr. Kim?” a voice called, and Namjoon’s chair spun back around. His secretary stepped in, a petite girl fresh out of college, with long brown hair and dark brown eyes. “Your first meeting of the day is here. Mr. Im Heeseok.” Namjoon nodded, smiling.
            “Let him in, thank you.” He responded When his secretary left with only a polite nod of her head, Namjoon rose from his seat and walked towards the window, putting his hands in his pockets. Namjoon knew exactly why you had told him you had no intention of dating for a while, and it had little to do with upcoming evaluations. The more he thought about it, he slowly pulled a fist out of his pockets, hitting it against the glass just a bit in frustration.
            You were trying to find the right words to say that Kim Namjoon was still fighting in what seemed to be a losing battle. 
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