#i wish i could just get paid to draw and garden and learn and be happy

[inner-community]

i really hate when the ppl i work for tell me they want me to work less for them because they need to cur back financially (despite all being very very well off)

i think it makes me feel like. rejected and unappreciated but moreso it’s like. this is my job this is all i have if you just decide you need your money more than i do… i just don’t have what i need. like if i am making less from my dogs i have to get more dogs and do less of the helpful work i enjoy… and i really prefer having a few people/dogs that i am close to and love than having to pick up any old walks because i can’t afford not to.

it makes me want to move away right now because i feel like i have outstayed my welcome or something. we were supposed to move last year and it didn’t work out and i was happy to get to keep seeing them but i just feel like if i had gone i would be sad but fulfilled. now i feel like i am just trying to stay relevant while the creatures and ppl important to me are trying to take everything away.

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Taming The Dragon Pt. 2

pairing: aemond targaryen x fem!reader

summary: as the wedding draws near you start to wonder if aemond will ever truly open up to you

warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, fluff if you squint, troubled aemond, mentions of trauma, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mentions of war, arranged marriage, cold and distant aemond, aemond is secretly soft for reader, canon divergent, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activity

word count: 4.5k

part 1 | part 3 (coming soon)

read on ao3

a/n: i was expecting to finish this fic after two parts but it got a little longer than intended so there will be a third and final part, hopefully coming soon 🤍

extra note: not proof-read so please lmk if you spot any mistakes or anything that doesn't make sense 🤍

friendly reminder that comments and reblogs are just as (if not more than) important as likes!

Once again a few days passed before you next saw him. He was busy apparently, although you had heard whispers among the servants that he had gone missing one night only to come back reeking of cheap ale. There were even rumours of him visiting a whore house in the deepest depths of depravity, not that you paid them much mind.

There was little the rumours could do to offend you, you did not know him very well after all. As his future wife your blood should have boiled at the mention of his late-night endeavours but in truth, you felt as though it was no business of yours who the prince chose to spend his nights with.

Despite the sayings around the palace that the young prince may have begun to lose his way, he still fulfilled his duties in courting you. Although you were almost certain he wouldn’t have so much as glanced your way had his mother not pushed him to do so. Still, you were grateful for his time.

Whether he wanted to be there or not he showed no sign of displeasure, nor disinterest despite his often wandering mind. When he did speak, his words were few and far between but he always made sure to pay attention to whatever you had to say.

You had done much talking about simple things such as the weather or the shape of the clouds in the sky. He, however, mostly sat in silence listening to you. Not that you minded. It was easier this way.

The rumours about him continued as the days passed but their focus had changed. It seemed he still left the keep most nights but no longer came back quite so drenched in ale. Rather, he seemed to have found solace in his outings, wherever it was they took him.

Before long you found that his visits to you were growing ever so slightly more frequent. It was a peculiar thing particularly because you mostly sat in silence together after a quiet greeting. Although it had started to feel less forced and more so as if he had chosen to be there rather than being pressed by his mother to accompany you.

Maybe he was just trying to get himself used to you. He was to spend the rest of his life with you, after all. He had started to learn your favourite places within the keep without even asking you. In the mornings he had found you liked to go for a walk in the gardens. Most afternoons he spotted you mindlessly wandering your new home before you would return to your room. He even knew that he could often find you in the library during the evening, usually with your head stuck in one of the many books there.

In truth, he had found himself at peace when he was with you. Unlike almost everyone else around him, you were the only one he did not feel judged by. They all whispered. They always had. Whether about the eye he lost as a boy or the child he had slain in cold blood, all anyone could do was whisper. Not you, though. You just smiled at him and allowed him to sit quietly by your side as you went about whatever you were doing.

“What are you reading?” he asked.

He had been standing there for a while, shoulder leant up against the old wall next to the fireplace. Not once had he said a word as he watched you read, not wishing to disturb you.

You glanced up, noticing the sharp details of his face as the light from the fire flickered against him. He looked handsome under its glow yet there was still an aura of mystery surrounding him. “Nothing that would draw your interest, I am sure.”

Lowly, he chuckled and pushed himself up away from the wall so he was once again standing straight. He walked closer and held out his hand expectantly as he waited for you to hand it over.

With a sigh, you passed it over to him and watched as he turned it over to examine the cover all the while holding it open on the page you had been reading so you would not lose your place.

You watched anxiously as a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and his eye flickered up from the page back to you.

“Ah, the art of war. What makes a lady like yourself want to read such a thing?”

It was the first time you had heard a tone of amusement in his voice.

“A war is coming, is it not? I wish to be prepared for what is to come so that I may properly support you and our family, to stand by your side through the thick of the storm. It will be my duty as your wife to do so, after all.”

He chuckled again, so warmly in fact that for a moment you were unsure if the warmth of the fire had finally thawed the icy cage around his heart.

“You are full of surprises, lady stark.”

You gladly took the book back when he held it out for you, thankful that his thumb was still placed firmly between the pages you were reading, and pressed your finger to the beginning of the next paragraph before looking up at him again.

“As are you, my prince.”

His smirk faltered at that, falling into something softer as he retook his place against the mantel watching once more as you continued to read.

He lingered longer that evening, standing in silence as he always did before later taking his leave. When he was gone you couldn’t help but feel that a newfound emptiness had settled into the room in his absence.

Time seemed to move differently after that. When he was by your side everything seemed to slow down and it was as if the two of you were in your own separate bubble, free from the outside world.

He came and went much as he had done so before and although you had little meaningful conversation, you found him speaking more often than he once had. Not only had he begun to engage more in conversation but you had noticed his expression changed toward you.

His sharp, cold features seemed almost gentle as he looked at you, his one good eye fixated on the way the sun reflected off the apples of your cheeks when you smiled. He was captivated. Completely and utterly enthralled. Most of all, however, he found himself lost in you, his one last tether to sanity.

There was a great disturbance within him, one he tried his best to hide around you. No matter how much he wished he could have concealed it there was no hiding the truth from you. Not to mention, you were not deaf to the rumours that he had been different since that night on Storm’s End.

You, however, were new in his life. There were no prior expectations. He had a clean slate with you and you were yet to be tainted by his darkness. Still, he was worried you would eventually see him for the monster he truly was.

“What is it?” you asked, finally working up the courage to give him an opportunity to open up to you.

He hummed in question as he allowed the gentle sound of your voice to guide him back to the present.

“Something is on your mind. Something is always on your mind. What is it?”

For a moment you were worried you had overstepped as he stood quietly, quieter than before, and leaned closer to the flickering flames. His brows had drawn tensely together, his fingers curling almost into a fist as he leaned against the mantle as he always did.

Just as you were about to speak — to tell him not to answer — his voice met your ears, “What do you think of me, Lady Stark? What do you see when you look at me? A prince? A dragon, perhaps? Do you see the monster that hides inside? By now you have heard what I have done have you not? You know I murdered my nephew in cold blood.”

His voice was thick and heavy, full of nothing but an endless void. Not once had his eye moved from its place on the fire, nor had his fingers uncurled. He stood still, almost scarily so as he waited for your reply.

You placed the book you had been reading down on the table beside you and stood, though you did not dare take a step closer.

“Pardon me if I speak too plainly, but I do not think you a bad man, even if you yourself do not believe it.”

Still, he did not move but you did not miss the way he tensed the muscles in his hand at your words.

With a deep breath, you continued. “You put up a cold front. Acting as though you do not care that you lit the blaze of war by getting revenge on the boy who wronged you but in truth, I think it haunts you. You wanted the boy to pay for what he had taken from you but you did not wish death upon him. I think you are plagued with guilt over what transpired that night. Most of all, however, I think you are afraid you will lose control of your dragon again.”

By the time you had finished, you stood only a few paces from him and, when he abruptly moved closer to you, you braced yourself for the strike that never came.

He stood before you with his hand still raised as if he were frozen in time. Only when you opened your eyes did he move again, placing a gentle hand on your cheek in stark contrast to the stinging pain you had initially expected.

Aemond too seemed surprised by himself. Only seconds ago he had intended to strike you for what you had said but the moment he saw you with your eyes squeezed shut and face already turned in preparation for what was to come, he realised you were right. He had never told anyone other than his mother that he lost control of Vhagar and yet somehow you knew.

You knew it had not been his intention to kill Lucerys and you knew by intuition alone. You truly believed he was not the evil he thought himself to be.

His lips were warm and soft when they came to yours as if pulled by a secret magnetic force. They were not quite how you had imagined them to be. He seemed hesitant for a moment but when you felt him move to pull away you found yourself unconsciously chasing after him, pulling him back to you as you cupped either side of his face.

His thumb ran soothingly across your skin as he carded his fingers through your hair, allowing your arms to slither up around his neck as he kissed you again.

“How did you know?” he asked when you parted for air, “that I lost control of Vhagar?”

You smiled and reached up, brushing a strand of long silver hair from his face. “Because you’re not a murderer.”

His eye strayed from yours then as his face turned ever so slightly away. “Part of me wanted to kill him. Part of me wanted him dead.”

Your fingers gently touched his skin, turning him back to look at you as you smoothed your hand against his cheek. “And yet, what happened that night plagues your every waking moment.”

His one good eye bore into your own, pupil widening as he allowed your words to sink in. For the first time in weeks, he came to realise that he wasn’t quite the monster he believed himself to be.

“With conflict comes death, it is simply the way of the world. You cannot change what happened that night, Aemond. You must move on.”

From that moment on, he was with you every second he could spare. He initiated conversation with you more and spoke more freely of himself and his past, allowing himself to slowly open up to you as each day passed by.

He liked to read too, you were surprised to find out. Although he still preferred to spend his time chasing more practical pursuits like ensuing his form was always in top shape when he duelled or trying his best to help with the current situation as a newly appointed member of the great council.

You watched him train sometimes, surprised to find he was actually quite the elegant swordsman, even if he wasn’t afraid to play dirty sometimes. It was during one of his training sessions that you met his sister, Helaena. She was a lot more likeable than you were expecting from the sister-wife of the king, although she was a little odd. Still, that only added to her unique charm and made her all the more interesting to talk to.

It was also the first time you had seen Aegon, whom Helaena came to watch despite not seeming all that interested in their sparring. He seemed younger than you had pictured, shorter too. Not to mention he had an air of arrogance around him that seemed more befitting a young child than the king of the Seven Kingdoms.

As they trained, you couldn’t help but notice the stark difference between the brothers and were suddenly all the more grateful that you were marrying the prince rather than the king.

When it came time for them to spar against one another, you saw the sparkle in Aemond’s eye. He liked fighting his brother then, you supposed. Although he was up against the king, he did not hold back and blocked every onslaught as though it were nothing. This, of course, upset Aegon quite a lot as he clearly felt that he, as the eldest son and king of the realm, should have easily been able to defeat his younger brother.

Aemond, although more composed than his brother, taunted the king who had been showing off prior to his duel with his brother, and even glanced up at you with a smirk before he bought the duel to a swift end.

Of course, Aegon stormed off and called another of his usual sparring partners out to fight him, taking his anger out on the poor soldier.

It wasn’t that Aegon was a poor swordsman, in fact, he was actually rather good, but Aemond was better and less prone to letting his emotions dictate his movements.

“He was unkind to you when you were growing up, wasn’t he?” when Aemond only raised an eyebrow at your sudden question, you clarified, “Your brother. The way you fought him… The two of you do not get along.”

With a dry scoff, he nodded and confirmed your assumptions.

“No, we do not. Aegon is,” he paused and took a breath, “Exhausting.”

Now it was you who was raising a brow as you sat beside him, thankful for the warmth of the nearby fire.

“He does not deserve to be king,” he explained, “He’s never wanted it, not once. Do you know how many times he has run away? Gone missing for days on end? Do you know how many bastards he’s-“ He glanced at you, aware now that he was stepping just a little too far.

You were not his wife, not yet, so it was improper of him to burden you with such talk.

He massaged the tensed muscles in his brow with a lengthy exhale. “The throne was handed to him on a great, golden platter. He has not worked for it, not once. My brother is not fit to rule but, as much as I may despise him, he is my brother and my king. As long as he seats the Iron Throne he will have my support. Not for his sake, but for my mother’s.”

You smiled understandingly and lifted your book, flicking it open to the page you were on. Aemond visibly relaxed at the action, enjoying the peace he found in sitting with you while you read and too picked up a novel you had recently recommended to him.

With war fast approaching and the Blacks finally beginning to make their moves, the queen mother made your wedding to Aemond a top priority in order to secure the support of the North.

Guests had been arriving for a number of days now, although you were yet to find your brother among them. There had been word that Jacaerys Velaryon himself had travelled to Winterfell on dragonback to earn the support of Cregan, who had already made his allegiances to the crown. However, those allegiances were void until your marriage to Aemond.

You could only pray Cregan would arrive lest he make an enemy of the very family you were marrying into. It was he who pushed you into this, after all. For the pride in a Stark owning their own dragon. The deal was as good as done, all that was left were the vows you had already prepared.

“Relax, she will not harm you.”

The day before your wedding, Aemond decided it was high time for you to meet Vhagar in person and, of course, you were a little more than nervous.

“I am not afraid,” you reminded almost sternly, although you could not hide the slight tremor in your voice. “I just- I haven’t seen a dragon so close before.”

He smirked and reached out for your hand, fingers gently tugging against your own as he led you deeper into the Dragonpit.

If it were not for the subtle glow of candlelight, it would have been pitch black down there you were sure. The pit was closed tight, every door shutting behind you as you traversed further inside. Although, you had a feeling this was not to keep the dragons safe inside. Only those trustworthy were allowed inside other than the riders themselves.

Other than the occasional dragonkeeper, you passed almost no one as Aemond led you through the darkness.

You could hear them as you quietly walked along. Dragons. You could hear them moving, sounding as though they were almost docile by nature although you knew this not to be true.

As your heart drummed against your chest, you wished you could have had Frost by your side but the snow-white dire wolf had been left behind with your servants for a nice warm bath. He had started to warm up to the now familiar servants who came to care for him from time to time, especially Reila who had taken a quick liking to the obedient creature.

Dire wolves were kinder than dragons, you supposed. Easier to tame.

One last corner and the two of you came to a stop. Aemond still stood in front of you, as if protecting you from the shadows inside. You peered past him as he pulled on your hand slightly, moving you so that you were standing with your face to his back.

It was a low grumble of sorts, the sound that ricocheted off the walls of the dark cave. A sound akin to death itself. Then, came the slight rumble of movement in the inky blackness before you and a large, scaly face emerged, lit dimly under the candlelight.

Instinctively, Aemond outstretched an arm and placed his hand gently against the humongous creature’s maw. His voice was calm as he took one step closer to the creature, letting go of your hand.

“I have someone for you to meet.”

As if in response, the dragon huffed and pushed slightly against his hand before turning its head towards you.

Your breath caught in your throat when you realised just how large she was — the largest dragon in all of Westeros — and you found your eyes almost immediately flickering over to Aemond in hopes he would tell you what to do.

Rather than speak, he simply jutted his chin forward, encouraging you to move closer to the great beast.

She will not harm you. His previous words rang out in your head and, choosing to trust the man you were to wed in less than a full day, you cautiously took a step closer to the dragon.

When she did not move and simply looked down at you curiously, you took another step and, like Aemond, reached out an arm to pet her. You did not close your eyes for you felt the dragon deserved to be greeted with respect rather than fear. She, however, did close hers while she huffed once again as though out of approval when your hand pressed softly against her.

It was only then that a true smile graced your lips and, rather than turn back to Aemond, you moved closer to the large dragon still, no longer wanting her at arm's length.

You felt her thick, scaly skin under your fingers as you moved your hand up and down, the gesture seemingly pleasing the creature.

“I knew she’d like you.” Aemond smiled fondly as he moved back to your side, reaching out to place his hand on top of yours, stilling your movements against the dragon.

Vhagar nudged forwards against the two of you one last time as he pulled you away, hand still over your own as your back hit his chest.

As the dragon retreated back into the shadows, returning to her slumber, he rested his chin on your shoulder and took in a deep, soothing breath. He had liked things the way they were and, although he was more than looking forward to your marriage, a part of him was worried things would not change for the better.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

With a questioning hum, he moved away from you again and you turned to him.

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” he asked, eye fixed on yours. You frowned and opened your mouth to speak but before you could he continued, “As my wife, you will only be put in danger. War is coming and I… I will not always be able to protect you.”

“I do not need you to protect me and it does not matter who I marry. Either way, I will be pulled into the fight. I would much rather be on the side of those I love.”

His eye widened at that. It was a word he had not heard often, other than from his mother, and a feeling he was not sure he could truly feel. Not until he met you.

He did not move even an inch when you advanced and kissed him under the shadowed light of the Dragonpit. Vhagar did not stir, leaving the two of you to your moment in her home as he cupped either side of your face, smiling against you.

You spent a little longer in the Dragonpit, enjoying the feeling that you were alone in the world, until it came time for dinner.

The queen mother, or Alicent as you had come to know her by in your time together, was insistent that you eat with her on your last night as Lady Stark. Aemond, however, would be joining his brother for an outing you could only imagine would include a lot of drinking and girls. Not that you minded so much as you knew his heart was already yours.

It was a slightly jarring thought that you were going to be a member of the great house of Targaryen come the morrow, not to mention soon to be gifted your own dragon. Although you were unsure what unclaimed dragon you would have the chance of taming.

You had read up on them, eager to know the ins and outs of every single unclaimed dragon to ensure you would be prepared come the time to claim one. Alicent had said you would have your pick of them, after all, so you wanted to get to know them some before the time came to make your choice.

There was Vermithor, an old dragon who had been riderless since the death of King Jaehaerys I. He would have made for a bold choice, perhaps one too ambitious for even you. Not that it mattered much though as you later read that the dragon resided in his lair on Dragonstone which was, of course, home to the opposing side.

Then there was Cannibal, a dragon known for eating its own kind and never once taking a rider, and Sheepstealer, both of whom you ruled out pretty quickly as they also resided on Dragonstone and were therefore, as good as impossible to obtain.

One dragon which had caught your eye was Grey Ghost, who was named as such because he was evasive by nature and rarely seen. A swift flyer who could get you out of many a sticky situation if needed. The only issue would have been finding him; until you found that he too resided on Dragonstone.

You had sighed then, finding that other than those were Silverwing and Seasmoke, both also residing out of your reach on Dragonstone and Driftmark.

Still, some part of you half-believed that the promise of a dragon had always been a lie. Although Alicent seemed a woman of her word, with all the unclaimed dragons on enemy territory and the fact that you yourself had no Targaryen blood, it seemed unlikely they had ever truly intended to grant you your own fire-breathing beast.

Still, it was not like they would tell you that before the wedding unless they wanted you to tell your brother only for him to call it off and take you back to Winterfell. It was he who cared so much about dragons, after all. You, in all honesty, did not care so much for them. Well, they were beautiful creatures and you admired them a great deal, especially after your meeting with Vhagar, but you would not have minded so much if you were not to have one of your own.

You had frost, after all, and Aemond. The political engagement had become something you were now looking forward to after having found something unexpected in King’s Landing — love.

“Still no news of your brother?”

With a sign, you returned your attention to the woman who was soon to become your mother through marriage. “No, but I am sure he will be here.”

Alicent hummed in thought and rested her head atop her delicate hands. “We must hope so. You and Aemond will be married tomorrow, whether he is in attendance or not.”

You smiled, glad to hear she would not call it off over the absence of your brother, and tried to ignore the possibility that she was only going forward with it to use you as leverage against Cregan should he have changed his mind and returned to the oath your father had made.

Jacaerys Velaryon would have reminded Cregan of this oath upon his visit to Winterfell, you were certain, and it was concerning that you had not heard from him since.

Your meal with the queen mother was as pleasant as any other, particularly as you were still full of that pre-wedding daze. Even as you walked back to your room, your heart continued to pound as if it had been longing for this moment for an eternity...

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[stillanobsession]

Things I Never Noticed About Secret of the Scarlet Hand

- Nancy scores an internship to help a museum prepare for an exhibit on Mayan culture but knows nothings about Mayan culture.

- I just realized in Prudence's interview she mentions her husband drown, but in other games she has side convos with him while talking to Nancy . . . I hope she just remarried.

- Ruffleton Rutherford. Enough said.

- Probably not the best idea to mention in an interview that you keep a Mayan artifact at your home.

- I never really paid attention to the names of the contributors to the museum, but some of them are just gold. Like Rusty Dents, Salamander Jones, Hugh Honeyham, NDfan123. Also the little easter egg to Punchy LaRue.

- I like how in Sonnys notebook the little cartoon drawings depict Alejandro as the hero, Henrik as a mad scientist/Albert Einstein, Joanna as greedy, and Sinclair as a trickster.

- I swear with the mask on, Henrik looks like he could be a Helen.

- The amount of times I have solved a temple puzzle without first inserted my puzzle card.

- Alejandro spilling the tea on all the shadiness going on behind the scenes.

- Not two seconds after Nancy learns about the stolen artifacts does the museum get robbed.

- Joanna knows absolutely nothing about anything.

- Museum can afford a million dollar monolith, cannot afford packing supplies

- The first time I played this game, I completely ignored all the hints on Sonny's disk and manage to solve all the puzzles through trial and error, and the information in the museum. Have not been able to pull that off again.

- The Maya really took beauty is pain to a whole new level.

- In all of Sonny's notes on the Mayan numbering system, only three actually describe the gods used in the puzzle.

- It's a really good thing Sinclair is the culprit because he just looks slimy.

- How Nancy is 100% responsible for Joanna's suspension lol.

- One of the pieces in the garden is on loan from Wicford Estate.

- So . . . am I just supposed to assume that Sinclair pushed Henrik off the temple, or is Henrik really that clumsy?

- Anyone else think Sinclair tampered with the last owners of the artifact's AC so he could secure it to Beech Hill and steal it later?

- I like how out of all the possible reasons to start a smuggling ring, it ended up being to pay off college debt and to further research. The accuracy here man.

- Okay so was Henrik actually apart of the smuggling ring at one point, or was he just trying to steal the pieces before Sinclair did. That was kind of fuzzy.

- Forever wishing it was possible to snoop in Sinclair's office.

- It's so annoying how Prudence is the first person you can ask to send you her jade piece but it's always the last to arrive.

- Has anyone actually figured out which key unlocks which side of the monolith? Because I honestly just keep turning it until it clicks lol.

- That ending speech is still the weirdest speech ever. Like I have so many questions.

- Overall I do really enjoy this game. It's one of my favorite older ones.

[angelictaehyun]

PAIRING: richboy!kang taehyun x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: He’s been a pain in your ass since you began working at the club. He’s arrogant and insanely wealthy, and you’re struggling to simply pay tuition. Needless to say, it’s not quite the match made in heaven… or so it seems. 

WC. 11,200+

GENRE: rich kid au, country club au, e2l au, crack, fluff

WARNINGS: mild language, illegal activity, y/n’s an actual dumbass, and taehyun’s kind of a dick lol

.

You repeatedly tapped your pen against your sticky, worn checkbook, awaiting a response from the refined, old lady sitting comfortably under a patio umbrella. You, on the other hand, felt the scorching heat of the summer sun against your back, making you sweat uncontrollably—you could only hope you didn’t resemble a drenched pig. The woman eyed you, a bit too judgmentally for your liking, before pointing her perfectly manicured nail at the menu in her hand, “I want this pasta, but make it gluten-free. Throw in another iced tea, too… extra lemon, of course!”

You winced at her shrill voice. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, all of our pasta is made from flour,” you explained patiently. Her right eye twitched. You were an obstacle in her way of getting what she desired, she was angry. Lovely. However, above all, she was confused, “Just tell the chef to make it without flour, let him know it’s a special request. I don’t see the issue.”

“Ma’am, I’m telling you… there’s no way to make it without flour, we just don’t have the type of noodle you want in house.”

She drummed her hand on the table, absolutely fuming. She glanced at you like you kicked a puppy, it was absolutely infuriating. She grasped for nothing as her brain formulated any response, “This is outrageous! I want to speak with a manager. Now!”

You sighed, “Gladly.”

It was astounding, truly, the lack of self-awareness and consideration some people had... or, didn’t have. You wished, so badly, to tell them off, but you desperately needed the cash. After all, college wouldn’t pay for itself and the bills piling on your coffee table wouldn’t just magically disappear. You swiftly turned around and trudged away, scanning the vast garden for your manager, Yeonjun, but unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be found. You’d known him long enough to assume he was hiding in the manager’s office, his poor attempt to flee from the overbearing, entitled crowd. How he scammed his way into a managerial position, a position of authority… that was beyond you. 

You were halfway across the floor, pushing past another server when you felt an intense stare land on you. You halted in place, knowing exactly who the gaze belonged to. You glanced at the table stationed in the far corner of the garden, instantly meeting his piercing stare. He eyed you shamelessly, a signature habit of his, before throwing you a smug grin. You weren’t going to kid yourself, he wore the smirk well. 

Too bad he was a pompous ass. 

Kang Taehyun. You hated saying his name, it humanized him and he was anything but human. Rather, he was an evil, irritating demon spawn simply disguising himself as human. And the cherry on top? He was the absolute bane of your existence. 

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but you didn’t necessarily want to. He opened his mouth to call you over, but much to your dismay, decided against it and instead rose from his seat to saunter over to you. You tried fleeing the scene the millisecond he stood up, but the elderly lady directly in front of you shuffled quite slowly, blocking your exit and trapping you in place. You tapped your foot impatiently as he approached you. 

“You look… sweaty,” he observed, chuckling at your less-than-appealing state. Truth be told, though he didn’t like admitting it to himself, he thought you looked beautiful. 

“Taehy—” he forcibly cut you off by landing his slender finger on your lips. You ignored the spark you felt from the small contact. He let his gaze travel to your Cupid’s bow momentarily, a part of him wanting to kiss your frown away. 

“Ah, not Taehyun,” he reminded you smoothly. You considered biting his finger off, but you prided yourself on your outstanding professionalism. Granted, it significantly dwindled every time you spoke to him.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled monotonously. “Mr. Kang… if you don’t remove your hand from my mouth, I will shove a menu so far up your ass, you’ll choke,” you snapped, a pretty smile adorning your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Your customer service and approachable personality never fail to amaze me,” he stated, drawing his finger away from you. He continued despite the growing, fiery rage in your eyes, “I’d like another fork, mine’s a bit dirty.”

“That’s your problem. I’m not your waitress, I have my own customers to deal with, so if you don’t mind…”

He completely disregarded your subtle plea for him to leave. “For your information, I’d much rather prefer you as a server and not him,” he admitted, throwing a spare glance at his server—Hyunjin, if you were guessing from the blond hair. 

“That’s too bad…” you trailed as you mustered up the fakest sympathetic pout you could. You continued, “Anyways, I really hate to cut this short, but I’d better get going. I’m sure you’ll survive with your fork. You probably won’t get tetanus, but fingers crossed.”

“Yeah, best of luck with Cinderella’s stepmom,” he mumbled, gesturing to your awaiting customer. He flashed you a confident wink before whirling around and returning to his seat. You scoffed, your lips tilting downward into an ugly grimace. The snapping sound from a couple of feet away brought you out of your disgusted daze. The lady you had spoken to was repeatedly snapping her fingers in an attempt to grab your attention. You were met with an expectant gaze when you directed your focus back on her. She was poised, her spine in perfect posture and hands folded properly across her lap; her body language exhibited no sign of emotion until you reached her watchful glare, clearly telling you to hurry along. You inhaled sharply before plastering on a fake smile. You resumed your hunt for Yeonjun, but once again, you felt the weight of a cocky stare land on your back. 

He was challenging you, silently. You knew it. Unfortunately for him, you had no interest in playing his silly, childish game, so you clenched your jaw and walked away. 

· ──────────────────── ·

As odd as it was, you and your best friend had a favorite bench. It sat a block from the country club and in the middle of a hidden, rugged park, but it was your safe space; it’d been your favorite place since you both found it in fourth grade. After every grueling shift, Kai would meet you on the bench with dinner. The food was almost always inedible, but you weren’t there for his cooking, rather his company. He was already perched on the bench, kicking at a pebble beneath his feet. He heard you approach but kept his focus on the fascinating rock.

“God, took you long enough, I’ve been here forever. I started to think you ditched me for one of those rich boys,” he complained. When you didn’t retort with a snarky comeback like you normally would’ve, he turned from his spot and glanced at your disheveled figure, immediately letting out an obnoxious laugh.

You looked like shit.

Your hair was a disaster, the wisps of hair framing your face no longer considered stylish, but rather unkempt and as Kai liked to put it, “homeless-like.” Not only did you look bad, you felt unclean. The sweat behind your knees was quickly becoming uncomfortably sticky and your mascara was rubbing off, making you look like a rabid raccoon. 

Despite all that, you were happy to see Kai, his bubbly personality never failed to cheer you up—but you’d never let him be privy to that. 

You shot him the nastiest glare you could muster, but that proved difficult considering the little energy you had left.

“Aw, Y/N…”

“I’m going to quit, I swear to God. If I have to hear one more soccer mom complain about her salmon being too fishy, I’m going to have to start perfecting my mugshot pose,” you grumbled through clenched teeth. He made a noise of disagreement, “Let’s not throw your ass in jail just yet. Orange makes you look like a traffic cone.”

You shot him an indignant glare, “Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Anyways, I made us some hamburgers and managed to grab some extra soda cans before leaving home. So bone app the teeth or whatever.”

You snorted. He always brightened your mood, just a simple sentence could lift your sad spirit. You had to give it to him, the burger looked pretty appetizing… but you’d learned that with his cooking, much like anything else, appearances can be quite deceiving. Despite this, you inhaled your burger, ignoring the fact that the meat was undercooked and the mayonnaise was likely expired. You paid no attention to the fact that your soda was lukewarm and flat—you sipped on it regardless. Your mind was elsewhere, easily drowning out whatever Kai was ranting about. 

“... I know you probably had a bad day ‘cause of your boy,” he observed quietly.

You snapped your focus back, “My boy?”

“Yeah, your boy. The one you think is a self-righteous prick, but secretly think is really hot. Hm, what was it… Terry? Tyler? Taeyong?... Oh, I got it. Trash can.”

You scoffed, “Taehyun, most certainly, is not my boy. I can’t stand him. His head is so far up his flat ass, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

Kai nodded in feigned understanding. He tilted an eyebrow quizzically before opening his mouth, but you beat him to it.

“And I don’t think he’s cute!” 

“... And I’m Beyoncé.” 

You didn’t respond, too tired to argue with him. Instead, you let out a small noise of disagreement before resting your head on his broad shoulder, contently sipping on your warm soda. He knew how tired you were; everyday he watched you wear yourself down to practically nothing, it hurt him. He leaned his head against your own, placing a hand atop your thigh and squeezing reassuringly. You allowed yourself to relax, breathing in the humid, summer air. You stayed like that until he let out a small laugh. 

“Let’s rob him,” Kai suddenly suggested. He was joking, obviously, but you still perked at the idea. You turned to face him expectantly, straw loosely hanging from your mouth. He visibly retracted, “Jeez, Y/N, I was kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“… I’m not robbing someone.” He threw you a cautious glare before aggressively taking a large bite of his burger and chugging his flat soda. You were losing your mind, he was sure of it. You poked curiously, “So I’m assuming your stance on graffitiing is the same.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Obviously.”

You turned away, sulking, and he couldn’t help but snicker. You were his best friend and had been since second grade, but if he said he didn’t think you were a dumbass, he'd be lying. 

“Come on, it’s time to get you home, you have an early shift tomorrow,” he reminded suddenly, mouth still full. You smacked his arm, disgusted by his lack of basic manners. He opened his mouth to showcase all his unchewed food. 

You gagged. 

“You’re disgusting!” you screeched, shuffling away from him. He chased after you, catching you almost immediately. His long legs made it easy. He effortlessly tossed you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirming, and carried you to his car, “Hush, I know you love me.”

“Gross. Never.”

He slapped the back of your calf and you squeaked, “Kai! Put me down! Now!”

“No, not until you say it. Make it believable, too.”

He wasn’t joking, you knew that. Eleven years of friendship and he was still as shameless as the day you met him. More so, if anything. Yes, his eight-year-old self was quite the charmer. You grumbled monotonously, “Kai, what can I say… you’re the light of my life, my hero, my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably die. I love you, I guess.”

“Too sarcastic, but it’ll do,” he conceded. He set you down and held in a laugh. Your hair looked even worse than before. He slung an arm around your shoulder, “Okay, get in the car. Hurry. I’d rather not listen to you complain about your lack of beauty sleep… again.”

· ──────────────────── ·

You mindlessly typed in a complicated order as Yeonjun watched your gaze drift over to the garden. 

“You’ve pressed that button so much, the console’s probably broken. Cool it,” he reprimanded gently. Your attention snapped back to the screen which was littered with incorrect orders.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what has me so distracted today,” you mumbled sheepishly. He chuckled and gave you a comforting nudge on the shoulder, “I think I know exactly why.”

Your gaze followed his and instantly landed on Taehyun. As much as you hated to admit, he looked good. Great, even. It looked like he’d just walked out of a rager, especially with his tie undone and shirt untucked, which he pulled off beautifully. His hair was slightly disheveled and you suddenly had the strongest urge to run a hand through it. 

Your eyes widened at the sudden thought and you aggressively shoved it to the back of your mind. “I don’t like him!” 

“I never said you did.” he argued, suppressing a mirthful grin. Yeonjun reminded you of Kai, especially with his insistence on your attraction to Taehyun, or as you believed, lack thereof. He continued, “Just a reminder, though. The line between love and hate is so, so thin.”

Rather than responding and saying something that would surely get you fired, you huffed and turned your focus back on the order, unaware of your aggressive punching on the console’s screen. You were already having a rough day, but everyday spent at the country club was considered less-than-stellar. Yeonjun gave you a reassuring smile before sulking off to deal with another whiny, overbearing customer. You unconsciously let your gaze travel back over to Taehyun and was instantly met with a genuine smile, just not one directed to you. He laughed at a joke, oblivious to your longing and thank God, if he caught you staring, you’d never hear the end of it. His smile was just so pretty, you couldn’t help but feel giddy. Sure, you hated him—that’s what you told yourself—but you could appreciate a handsome face. As if on cue, Taehyun turned in your general direction and you quickly scrambled out of sight. As you turned, Hyunjin scrambled by you, the heavy tray resting on his shoulder nearly beheading you. His long, wavy blond hair, which was in a nice, neat half-ponytail at the beginning of his shift, was now splaying in every direction—he was beyond stressed. If the messy hair wasn’t enough, his hooded eyes were getting darker. You approached him as he grabbed a checkbook, “Hyun, you look like a mess.”

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I just have a lot of floor to cover, and they’re all extra demanding today,” he explained, short of breath. He groaned as he watched another set of people sit in his section and continued, “God, please cover me. I’ll owe you one. I’m already overwhelmed with my current table number.”

You laughed understandingly, “Of course.”

“You’re the best, it’s table thirty.” He squinted to get a good look, “Oh! I know that customer, he’s a great tipper. You should be just fine.”

You shifted your attention to the table in question, immediately deflating as you saw Taehyun sitting with a friend. You turned around to protest, but Hyunjin was already gone. 

You internally screamed before trudging over to his table, gathering all of your dignity... kissing his arrogant ass wasn’t necessarily on your agenda for today. When Taehyun saw you approach his table, he did little to hide his pleased smirk. You undid your balled fist. 

“Hi. My name is Y/N, I’ll be your server today,” you monotonously stated, an unenthusiastic but convincing smile plastering your face. To any other guest, it would’ve been believable, but Taehyun knew better; your server persona didn’t fool him.

“Y/N. What a pretty name,” his friend observed, a bit too flirtatiously for your liking. Taehyun noticed too, judging from the way he narrowed his eyes and tongued his cheek. And also the way he obviously kicked his friend’s leg under the table. You mustered a sweet smile, hoping to mask your disgust, “Thank you! That’s so… nice. Anyway, what would you like to drink? We got in a new Italian wine, just delivered today.”

“That’s alright, just water.”

“Water.”

Cheap. Especially for a pair of chaebol children. 

“Alright! I’ll be back momentarily,” you informed, smile dropping the instant you turned away. As you trailed back to the kitchen, you heard Taehyun give his friend a hushed reprimanding making you smirk. You passed Yeonjun, noticing he looked as if he was about to lose his sanity. You gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder—for someone so young, he managed well. Of course, he used his handsome face and charm as often as possible; his attractiveness and charisma was dangerous. He managed to grasp the attention of everyone and it aided him greatly. You pressed quizzically, “Jun, you don’t seem good.”

“Says you. You’re lover boy’s server. What a shocking, juicy turn of events. I’m on my toes,” he teased impishly. You stared at him vacantly. Yeonjun continued to poke fun, enjoying the lack of response you gave as you procrastinated to avoid returning to Taehyun’s table, but sadly, there was only so long it could take to fill a glass with water. Yeonjun pouted sympathetically, “Good luck.”

You didn’t need luck. No. To spend a precious hour or more, waiting on a privileged, disgustingly wealthy teenage boy, specifically Kang Taehyun, you needed patience, self-control, and temper management. You reminded yourself of just that as you approached him, placing his water near his plate, “Gentlemen, are you ready to order?”

You jotted down his friend’s order, ignoring the growing complexity as he piled on request after request, no sign of stopping. “... And I need it lukewarm. Not room temperature, but lukewarm.”

You diligently suppressed the eye roll that nearly bubbled up. Honestly, you’d dealt with far worse, Taehyun’s friend didn’t even scratch the surface. 

You had to wonder though, did people like this ever feel shame? 

You faced the cocky redhead, “And for you… Mr. Kang?”

You cringed. He didn’t miss the nearly imperceptible flash of disgust that crossed your expression. He grinned, “Just the lasagna. While you’re at it, I’d like another glass of water.”

“You already have a full glass,” you seethed, glancing at the glass you had just set down. He enjoyed this: testing you, pushing you, slowly dwindling your sanity until you snapped. He wanted to get a reaction from you, anything other than the bored, disinterested expression you gave him every single day. He smiled innocently, “What can I say… I like staying hydrated.”

His amusement was irritating. Unsurprisingly, his torment was based on the stupid, outdated notion that a boy has to show interest by picking on his crush, but you weren’t privy to his inner thought process. You suppressed another eye roll as you turned to grab a pitcher from Hyunjin, the boy sprinting behind you with a full tray. You felt bad for him, at least, until you remembered he pawned Taehyun’s table onto you and your pity became short lived. You filled an empty glass, increasingly aware of Taehyun’s piercing stare. Your emotionless expression would’ve given him no indication as to how nervous you felt if it weren’t for the slight blush that painted your face.  

He smirked victoriously. You hated it.

A breath of relief escaped you as his attention turned to his friend. He leaned back in his seat and lifted a hand to rest behind his head, accidentally smacking the pitcher, causing you to spill the cold water onto his lap. He flinched at the sudden icy contact. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you gasped, fishing a stray napkin from your apron. Normally, he would’ve brushed it off, considering it was his fault, but he felt pressured under the expectant gaze of his snobbish peer. Plus, he gained the reaction he wanted from you... something other than disgust. He feigned offense as he dramatically pushed his seat back and stood up, easily towering over you, “Next time, try not sucking at your job!”

He immediately regretted his outburst but he showed no sign of remorse, not when he had a reputation to uphold. God forbid, he could actually be a considerate person. 

More importantly, though, he pushed too far this time and there wasn’t much turning back. You winced at his tone, withering back from his harsh statement, though you quickly replaced your hurt with unadulterated rage. Your blood boiled as your vision went red, steam practically fuming from your ears. Your pained expression broke his heart and he nearly dropped his act, but before he could do or process anything, his silk shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his body as ice water seeped through. His slacks were drenched and his designer loafers were completely ruined. He didn’t pay much attention to that, though... not when you were an inch from his face, holding an empty water pitcher over his head.

“I quit,” you lowly hissed. You firmly shoved the pitcher into his hand and scoffed as he stumbled back from the force. All eyes were on you as you stalked off, hastily tossing your apron into the nearest trash can. Yeonjun gave you a quick nod, his subtle way of telling you he was proud. 

He’d get your resignation letter another day.

Taehyun helplessly called after you but it was useless. You were too far gone to care. 

· ──────────────────── ·

You slammed your car door shut, absolutely fuming. You blankly stared at the frog keychain hanging from your rearview mirror. Normally, you would’ve smiled at the small figurine, but in the moment, you wanted to punt it into another timezone. It’s cheeriness pissed you off to no end. You quickly fished your phone out to dial Kai’s number, the line ringing thrice before he picked up, groaning, “I’m trying to sleep.”

His voice seemed muffled, likely from the thirty plushies he insisted on sleeping with. 

“It’s dinner time.”

“It’s called a nap, genius.”

“Alright, well, I just quit my job… and I might have dumped a pitcher of water onto Taehyun’s stupid, privileged ass.”

The line fell silent. You wouldn’t have been surprised had he hung up on you—your tendency to act impulsively drove him up the wall and he was nearing his limit. You patiently awaited his response, likely a reprimanding scold. 

“Y/N, what the fuck.”

“He had it coming, I swear,” you promised. In detail, you explained your biased side of the story, ignoring the obvious judgement emanating from the opposite line. The minute you finished, you spotted Taehyun’s panicked figure run into the full parking lot, frantically searching for you; you ducked behind your steering wheel, praying he didn’t see you. You squeaked, cutting off Kai’s tangent, “Oh my God! Oh my God! He followed me!”

He sighed. “If you dumped ice water on me, I’d be chasing after you too.”

You peeked curiously from your spot, seeing he had yet to find you. The cogs in your mind churned slowly, mixing in with your rage, “What if we graffitied his house?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m serious, I want to do it! He can’t just get away with humiliating me in front of the entire club, waitstaff, and my manager. And graffitiing isn’t illegal… ish.”

You could practically picture his narrowed gaze, “It’s definitely, most certainly, illegal. Sunshine, I understand your anger, hell, I’d be outraged, but revenge isn’t always the answer. And graffiti isn’t the most… sound idea.”

You crossed your arms defensively, “It’s a genius idea.”

“It really isn’t.”

“I’m going to do it, regardless of if it’s a good idea or not. You’re either in or out.”

Once more, the line fell quiet. His mind churned, concluding there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d follow through—you were simply too chicken. He laughed, “Fine. I’m in.”

“Great! Find his address, I’ll be over soon.”

You hung up and regained your composure. Taehyun spotted your car as you buckled in your seatbelt, making direct eye contact with your enraged figure. You were surprised, he didn’t seem angry, rather regretful. Almost apologetic. 

But you didn’t care. 

You sped off the lot without sparing him a final glance. 

· ──────────────────── ·

“Have faith in me! Finding his address isn’t going to be hard. You know, I’m a tech whiz, it runs in the family.”

You snickered, “Beomgyu getting accepted into the computer science program at his university doesn’t mean you got the tech gene. You’re the worst with technology, you can’t even remember your laptop login half the time.”

He eyed you challengingly, before cracking his knuckles and typing furiously. Only a single minute had passed before he was yelling, “Jackpot! I found it!”

You were thrown for a loop. He was quite technologically inept, he couldn’t even open a browser without some trouble, let alone find an address. You stared at him quizzically, a smidge of doubt crossing your mind. He deflated, avoiding your hard gaze, “Okay… maybe, just maybe, I called Gyu before you arrived and had him help.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that tracks.”

You sighed and tossed yourself back on his plush bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered on his ceiling. You laughed quietly, you remembered putting them up there—it was really only a year ago. See, Kai had this whole star-sticker-related schtick or as he liked to put it, “Inability to have them as a child which subsequently caused emotional damage.”

You had just returned from a grueling shift and you were exhausted, weak, and insanely pissed—reason being Taehyun, of course.

It was always Taehyun.

In a frivolous attempt to cheer you up, Kai suggested pasting the stickers onto his ceiling. Honestly, it was more stressful than fun. He constantly wobbled around the bed, nearly dropping you several times as you sat perched on his broad shoulders and stuck them up. It kept you busy though, and thus, kept your mind off of Taehyun. 

It was funny, honestly. For someone that swore they hated him, you sure thought about him a lot. He took residence in your mind and you felt like the landlord trying to evict him. 

Even at that moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Of course, you were in denial. You told yourself it was natural to be thinking about him; after all, you were going to destroy his property. There was absolutely no other reason as to why he ran free in your mind… none at all. 

Kai knew you were overthinking. It wasn’t hard to tell, especially since your forehead usually tended to crease in the ugliest manner when you did. He tried reeling you out of your daze, “So, we’re going to commit a crime.”

“Yep.”

“... There’s no turning back.”

“I know. I’m not going to chicken out.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, of course you’d chicken out. You always did. He didn’t see any harm in indulging you with your idiotic plan, so he found the address. No harm, no foul. Right?

· ──────────────────── ·

You anxiously picked at the leather seating beneath you, nearly tearing a hole in the worn fabric. 

“Yo, cool it. Jihyo is already pretty fucked up,” Kai warned. Oh, Jihyo. You still couldn’t believe he named his old, rickety car—let alone after his ex. His car looked as if it had a mile left in it before it ultimately broke down, but you had to put some blind trust in Jihyo. After all, she was your getaway car if everything went south. You’d been sitting in Kai’s passenger seat for half an hour, coming up with nearly every excuse not to proceed with the crime.

“We really don’t have to do this. Not to mention, I don’t want to do this,” he grumbled. 

“Then why are you here?”

Imagine his surprise when you showed up at his door, decked out in all-black, stealthy gear, hope and adrenaline coursing through your body. He truly believed you would’ve backed down by now, and a small part of him hoped you still would, but the odds weren’t looking in his favor. 

“I’m not letting you go to jail! I can’t get through the school year without you, especially now that Jihyo—human Jihyo—is starting to spread her stupid, little personal agenda against me. Like, yeah, I broke up with you and that’s rough, but maybe next time, try not being manipulative… or a cheater,” he rambled. You flashed him a sympathetic smile; he said he was over it but you knew better. You patted his arm comfortingly and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, a flustered, shy smile replacing his pout. 

“Guess what? I think I know exactly what’ll make you feel better,” you whispered sweetly. 

His smile instantly turned down into an exasperated frown, “Mhm, let me guess… robbing the rich boy you have a crush on.”

“I don’t have a crush on him! Why would I like him? He yelled at me in front of the entire club! And we’re not robbing him, we’re simply… graffitiing his house. Tastefully. 

“So you admit, you had a crush on him.”

“No! I’m just saying!”

He pointedly rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the castle-like house across the street, not wanting to have that conversation with you. He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like idiot but you let it slide, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. 

“Okay, so the gate code is probably something stupid like his birthday, his mom is probably sentimental like that,” you mumbled to yourself. You tapped your foot anxiously as you tried to formulate a coherent plan. You slowly continued, “The only problem is the crazy amount of security cameras around his house. Like, who needs that many cameras? People are dying.”

“God, I hate you,” Kai grumbled.

You ignored him, “There has to be a blind spot, somewhere a camera won’t cover. Hm…” you studied the perimeter, searching for that camera-free sweet spot. At that moment, you found a tiny patch of grass, hidden under a massive oak tree. 

Bingo. 

You shook Kai’s arm aggressively, “Look! Right there, that’s the spot. That tree has to cover the camera.”

He rested his head against the steering wheel, “Let’s get this over with.”

As you both climbed out of his car, you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. The street was littered with fancy, expensive cars while Jihyo looked like she belonged in the dump, making you even angrier. Kai crept over to the sidewalk, insisting on creeping in the shadows like a vigilante. You, on the other hand, struggled to carry your duffel bag full of equipment, constantly getting slowed down by the exceptional weight. That was your fault though, you packed it full of necessary, outstandingly heavy equipment (necessary being a loose term). Alongside the many cans of paint sat a bag of Goldfish, three juice boxes (because Kai is a massive baby), a faulty navigation system, a not-at-all threatening ski mask, and a broken hammer. 

You didn’t remember packing that hammer. 

You settled in front of Taehyun’s gate, hoping your birthday theory was correct. Of course, simply because it was you and your luck was awful, it wasn’t. You began pressing random keys, hoping something would work but it was fruitless. Nothing worked, not even the basic combinations. You huffed, “I guess we’re going to have to climb our way in.”

You mentally prepared yourself as Kai sent a couple of prayers out for good measure. He eyed your duffel bag curiously before opening it, instantly met with a multitude of spray paint in all shades. He narrowed his eyes and scoffed, “Jesus, Y/N! Where the hell did you get all this shit?”

“... Craigslist.”

“Bullshit, you were kicked off Craigslist years ago.”

You winced, insulted by his easy remark—he knew how sensitive you were about that. You kicked a pebble sheepishly, mumbling softly, “Fine, I bought the paint from Soobin…”

His eyes widened comically as his heart practically ripped out of his chest, “Soobin?! Choi Soobin?! You can’t be serious. No, there’s no way you bought from the school drug dealer! He’s a criminal! He probably tried to toss in some of that devil’s lettuce with your purchase, huh? Or worse… crack!”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your head back, he was always so dramatic. “Kai, he’s not a criminal. He’ll occasionally sell an edible or two, but that’s it! He didn’t try to sell me anything. Actually, he gave me a pretty good deal on this stuff.”

“Lovely, a modern-day businessman,” he grumbled sarcastically. 

“Whatever, just help me climb the wall,” you huffed, zipping up your bag before tossing it over the blockade. Hesitantly, he got on one knee, muttering something you couldn’t quite hear—not that you wanted to anyways. You delicately stood on his knee as he pushed on your thighs in an attempt to boost you over. 

Honestly, you struggled. Your weak muscles did little to aid in your quest, but Kai’s strength helped. 

“God, take your sweet time, it’s not like your flat, piece of plywood ass is dangling in front of my face or anything. I’m about to throw up,” he gagged. 

You scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, complain all you want but this is the most action you’ll ever see.”

“... I won’t hesitate to drop you on your face.”

However, before he could follow on his threat, you managed to hoist yourself over the brick wall. You offered a hand to Kai but instead of accepting, he eyed it mockingly, knowing you weren’t strong enough to lift him. He stretched his legs before taking a step back, giving him a running start, and surprising you both when he successfully lifted himself.

You placed your hand over his mouth, “Shh.. whisper. We’re in enemy territory now.”

He licked your palm, nearly making you screech, “Gross!”

He childishly stuck his tongue out. You shook your head and began scrounging the duffel bag for the perfect paint color. Of course, you wanted to create a masterpiece worthy of Kang Taehyun... you even considered tagging it. Kai silently sat on the grass, aimlessly picking at the freshly-cut blades as he watched you happily paint. 

You were pleased to say that in the half an hour you’d been painting, nothing had gone awry... yet.

“The fuck is that supposed to be?” he questioned curiously, leaning closer to inspect the vulgar work. 

“Taehyun,” you said easily.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like a dick.”

“It’s called symbolism, Kai.” You stepped back to admire your work as if it were hung in the Louvre whilst Kai scrunched his nose, clearly offended by the unpleasant art.

“You know, it’s funny how you have the biggest crush on this dic—” Before he could further elaborate, he was interrupted by an awfully familiar voice. 

“What the hell are you doing on my front lawn?”

You cringed. You’d been caught red-handed. 

Kai turned slowly, surrendering with his hands up. You, however, kept your back turned, considering just going to hell with it and continuing your tasteful artwork. He glanced at you anxiously, silently pleading for you to put down the paint can. 

Only because Kai looked a second away from fainting, you huffed and turned around, mimicking his pose, the only difference being the bored expression plastered on your face. 

Taehyun stood in front of you, his arms crossed and irritation painted all over his body language, but as much as he tried to hide it, there was a glint of amusement behind his eyes. You hated how his obnoxious, stop sign hair managed to look amazing under the glow of the moonlight—it was beyond irritating. Arguably, his entire being was irritating. You held his gaze, silently challenging his presence. Kai, on the other hand, was sweating profusely and dramatically hyperventilating. He clutched onto your shoulder, failing to catch an actual breath, “Oh my God! I feel like my heart is pumping out lukewarm sewer water.”

He placed his hands on his knees as he hunched over and continued, “Please, Taehyun. Please, don’t hit me with your Lamborghini. I’m begging you.”

Taehyung blankly stared at the younger, completely forgetting he was even there. You rubbed your temple and hissed, “Will you shut the fuck up? You’re making this worse.”

“I don’t want to go to jail! My face is too pretty for jail, they’d murder me on sight for being the most gorgeous boy they’ve ever seen. God, please don’t call the cops… I’ll do anything,” Kai shamelessly begged. You were so close to punting him into the Pacific Ocean. Taehyun’s annoyingly gorgeous lips twisted into a smug grin as he directed his attention back on you, “Hm, and what about you, Princess? I don’t see you begging.”

You scoffed, “I’d rather eat Kai’s shoe.”

He simply hummed, “That’s too bad. You know, I have a family friend who’s a cop… I’ll convince him to go easy on you in jail.”

“The wealthy wielding control over the justice system… how unexpected.”

“Oh my God! Y/N’s kidding, she’ll do anything,” Kai blurted quickly, shooting you a death glare. Taehyun’s eyebrow lifted curiously, a satisfied smirk settling comfortably, “Is that true?”

“What the hell do you want?” you questioned hesitantly. 

“A date.”

You briefly considered his words before shoving Kai forward, “Yeah, go nuts. He’s all yours.”

“... With you.”

You threw your head back and let out an inappropriate, hearty laugh. Even Kai let out a small snicker before replacing it with a fake cough, but Taehyun didn’t seem amused. He watched you expectantly, awaiting an answer. 

“So this is the only way Kang Taehyun can score a date… by blackmailing them. You know, that actually makes sense,” you theorized to no one in particular. You simmered in silence for a short moment before Kai cleared his throat, hinting at his obvious discomfort. Taehyun was enjoying this, you just knew it. 

That broken hammer never looked better...

“Fine,” you conceded. You glared at him, biting your tongue to prevent you from going off on his pompous ass. Taehyun’s eyes lit up with hope. 

Kai let out a breath of relief before mumbling an apology and dragging you off the lawn. His grip on you tightened as you turned around one last time to shoot daggers at Taehyun. He stood comfortably in the middle of his manicured lawn, the porch lights behind him highlighting his pleased smirk, yet all you saw was red.

· ──────────────────── ·

Kai splayed across your bed, mindlessly picking at a random throw pillow while you spritzed a hint of perfume on your forearm. His gaze trailed over your figure curiously, “You’re quite dressed up for someone who’d rather sleep in a dumpster than go on this date.”

“Well I’m not about to walk into high society wearing a stained sweatshirt and joggers.”

He snorted, “Right, that’s the only reason.” You smoothed your shirt and gave yourself a once over, feeling quite confident in your choice of clothing. Kai wasn’t blind, he thought you looked nice, but he’d let pigs fly before he told you that. He continued, “You don’t look… that ugly.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that was the closest you’d ever get to a compliment from him, “Thanks.”

“Do you know where he’s taking you?” 

“Nope.”

If you were being honest, you didn’t care where he took you; you didn’t set any conscious expectations. 

“Oh! Before I forget…” Kai smirked as he dug around his backpack. He tossed you a small, blue bottle of mouthwash. He winked cheekily, “You never know… mayhaps you’ll kiss him.”

You nearly threw up, “I most certainly will not be kissing anyone tonight, especially not his pretentious ass. Besides, you know about my rule.”

He groaned. He definitely knew about your rule, it was all you talked about after getting dumped by your last ex. After your last failed relationship (or four) you created a no-kiss policy for your first three dates. You wanted to make sure your kisses weren’t in vain, and honestly, it was fun just watching them work for it. 

“The rule is dumb,” he reminded. 

“... You’re dumb.”

You were busy dodging a pillow when your doorbell rang, signaling Taehyun’s arrival. You were shocked he didn’t just notify his presence by honking his horn—for a pompous ass such as himself, you wouldn’t have been surprised. 

“It’s time,” you mumbled somberly. 

“He isn’t the Grim Reaper. This is a date, it’s supposed to be a happy thing!” he tried encouraging sweetly as you stalked down the staircase, but to no avail, your mood didn’t lighten in the slightest. 

You aggressively swung open your front door, nearly knocking Kai unconscious. Taehyun dressed simple but pleasant; his expensive, black sweater was expertly tucked into a nice set of slacks and the Cartier bracelet that adorned his wrist, perfectly accentuated his veins. His bright, red hair was styled messily and his cheeks were flushed, beautifully highlighting his angled nose and sharp jawline. Your mouth gaped, just slightly, as you drank him in—while he was always attractive, this specific look had you stunned. He held a single rose against his chest and it only made him look more ethereal, if that was even possible. When you looked up, you instantly noted the hint of panic in his eyes, which made you feel at ease. 

“Taehyun,” you blankly addressed.

“Y/N! You look amazing, so beautiful…” he trailed as he handed you the rose. You grabbed it and immediately shoved it into Kai’s chest.

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumbled, pushing past him and harshly hitting his shoulder.

“... Right.”

“Hey, try not to murder him, I can’t afford bail. I make minimum wage,” Kai reminded, flashing Taehyun a sympathetic smile as the older trailed closely behind you. You were about to open his car door when he came rushing by, insisting on opening it for you. In return, you sent him a nasty glare, “I’m capable of opening my own door.”

“I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“A gentleman doesn’t go off on someone in the middle of a public space,” you reminded.”

He sighed. A mere five minutes into the date and he already felt defeated. He wished he could form a proper apology, but it would be futile—you’d just shut him down. So he decided to express his apology in the form of something he knew you’d accept; needless to say, he had a trick or two up his Gucci sleeve. 

You kept your gaze focused on anything but him. Your arms were folded across your chest, the evident frown on your face doing very little to hide your irritation. Despite that, he still thought you looked beautiful… granted, every single time he spoke to you, you wore a frown so this wasn’t new to him. 

“You look so pretty,” he complimented as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“I know.”

Of course he deserved every ounce of your cold, unwelcoming demeanor, but it still hurt. He was flushed but you didn’t notice since you made an obvious effort to scoot as far away from him as possible, practically pressing yourself up against the car door. However, the painful silence quickly overwhelmed you, so you hesitantly threw him a bone, “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise but I know you’ll like it. It’s my way of apologizing.”

“This better be a hell of an apology.”

“I promise you it is.”

You noticed his sincerity. His usual cockiness was replaced with shyness and a twinge of guilt, and you found it endearing. You stayed quiet for the remainder of the car ride, only a small sound of confusion as he pulled into a half-empty parking lot of a local carnival. A young employee approached the car and gave Taehyun a permitting nod, making you suspicious. He drove past the entrance gate and straight into a private space, parking next to a dinky, old ice cream truck. The space was close to a nearby forest, a bit too secluded for your taste.

“So you’re going to kill me,” you observed, scanning the dark environment around you.

He rolled his eyes. “No.”

“That’s what a murderer would say,” you mumbled.

You were so stubborn, he knew that, yet he still let out an exasperated sigh. He frowned and climbed out of his car, shuffling to your side, only to find you were already halfway out. You didn’t say anything, choosing to send another hard glare his way instead.

He headed in the direction of the carnival—not the forest—and gestured you to follow him. You trailed behind, ignoring the damp mud that stuck to the bottom of your cheap shoes. You felt a bit overdressed, but when you glanced at Taehyun, you felt better. However, the more you thought about it, his outfit likely cost more than your college tuition, putting a slight dent in your ego. You focused your attention on the glowing moon instead of him, and when he turned to look at you, he was in awe. You seemed peaceful, or at least, not as pissed. 

It was nice.

He led you down to the middle of the fair where you saw a crowd gathered around a massive dunk tank. He seemed antsy, constantly shifting his weight and picked at the hem of his costly shirt. He momentarily abandoned your side and walked to the dunk tank operator, speaking briefly before grabbing a bucket filled of unknown stuff. 

When he walked back, you stared curiously at the bucket which was full of heavy baseballs. “This is my apology.”

Vague. 

As if he read your mind, he gently placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you to face the tank, pointing directly at the chair above the pool. “I’m going to be sitting on that chair. Your job is to throw them,” he gestured over to the bullseye, “at the target, until I’m submerged.”

You couldn’t suppress your smile. He was right, this was an apology you’d accept, an apology in the form of embarrassment. Smart boy. 

He didn’t necessarily look forward to ruining his cashmere sweater, but he would’ve done anything to make it up to you, and your bright smile told him he was on the right path. You let out a light laugh, picking up a baseball and tossing it carelessly. 

He spared you a final glance before shuffling off to his fate. He seemed to garner a lot of attention, the crowd had grown significantly larger since you first arrived. You held the ball in your hand as he climbed onto the chair—you were arguably a little too excited to send him into the cold, cold water. He seemed shaky, but you didn’t care. You threw the ball with no hesitation. 

Strike one. You missed by a long shot.

He suppressed a laugh. You shook your body, ridding yourself of any anxiousness before trying once more. 

Strike two. You were closer. Barely.

You had an unlimited amount of attempts, but the longer you failed, the more embarrassed you felt. He now seemed comfortable... prideful, even. Your face was flushed red from humiliation, but you tried to keep it from affecting you as you threw once more, this time, significantly more aggressive. 

Strike three. This was outright shameful.

“C’mon, you can do better than that…” he baited. He couldn’t help but tease, it didn’t matter that you were on a date. The crowd let out a collective laugh. You scoffed indignantly, cracking your neck and back, your stare darkening. You were about to hit the winning shot, he knew it. He loosened his grip on the chair and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed. 

The longing, heartfelt expression in his eyes had you flustered. You nodded understandingly, reeling in his genuine apology, and flashing him a sympathetic, sincere smile before throwing the baseball straight at the bullseye, sending him (and his expensive outfit) straight into the tank. 

You pumped a fist in the air as the crowd cheered. He emerged from the stale water, completely drenched. He shook hair away from his eyes before climbing from the tank and into a changing room, but not before finding your figure in the crowd. You wore a gentle, soft smile; for the first time, you looked at him with something other than hatred. 

It gave him hope. 

After changing, he appeared by your side as the crowd slowly dispersed, dressed a lot more comfortably. He changed into a pair of fitted (and designer, you just knew it) joggers and a clean, simple sweatshirt, pulled together with a silver chain hanging from his neck. He went from runway to streetwear yet he managed to look absolutely fantastic and it irked you. He seemed expectant yet nervous, constantly shifting his feet and biting his bottom lip. He needed reassurance and suddenly, you weren’t hesitant to provide it. 

After a minute of painful silence, you conceded. “I forgive you.”

A deep sigh of relief escaped him. He’d practically been holding his breath since that day and all of a sudden, this weight had been lifted off his chest. A wave of solace washed over him, “Thank god. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if that didn’t work.”

You giggled softly. He short-circuited for a mere second; being the cause of your melodious laugh had him speechless. It was all new to him. Your laugh was so sweet, soft, and a drastic contrast from the person he was used to. He yearned to hear it again. 

You peered up at him without saying a word.

He coughed awkwardly. “Right, uh, that didn’t take long at all. Let’s get you home, this was a waste of your time, I’m so sorry,” he rambled, turning in the direction of his car. You tilted your head questioningly. The night was still young and you had no interest in going back home. You were pleasantly surprised, all it took was a simple apology for your hidden, buried feelings to surface, though you knew how hard it was for him to apologize. Maybe that’s why you were so easy to forgive. You reached for his sleeve and gently tugged him back, “You asked me out on a date, so let’s do it.”

Going on an actual date was the last thing he expected. His plan for the night was to pick you up, try his best not to offend you more than he already had, and get dunked into some dirty, stale water. Of course he couldn’t refuse, seeing as his heart nearly soared from his chest. He nodded eagerly, “Y-yeah! Yeah! Okay, let’s have a date. Okay, uh, this is a carnival, right? I have to win you a plushie then, that’s just basic, carnival date knowledge. That’s the rule.”

You snorted. “Can’t break the rules then.”

He led you on over to the strength machine, eager to showcase his brawn—he hoped to impress you. His boyish mentality made you laugh, as endearing as it was, you couldn’t help but find it primitive and a bit childish. Nonetheless, you indulged him. He fished change from his wallet and you couldn’t help but notice the shiny, heavy, black card sitting comfortable in his wallet’s compartment; you suppressed an instinctual eye roll. He held the massive hammer in hand, attempting to hide the fact that it slightly weighed him down, despite his muscular build. He flashed you a confident wink before raining the hammer down on the target, sending the marker less than halfway up the pole. You coughed in an attempt to hide your laughter, you didn’t want to embarrass him, he’d already been dunked into a tank of mucky water. 

He stood dumbfounded, “Okay, this is rigged.”

“Mhm, right.”

“Fine, hotshot. Give it a whirl then,” he challenged. You raised an eyebrow cockily, yanking the hammer from his hand. It was simple, all you had to do was send the marker higher than his. You smugly grinned before trying your luck, the marker barely rising an inch. 

He slapped his knee and cackled. You were offended.

“This is rigged,” you mumbled. 

“S’ok, love. There’s plenty of other stuff to do that isn’t rigged,” he encouraged, throwing a side eye at the gamer operator who simply shrugged in return. He slung an arm around your shoulder, choosing not to dwell on the way his heartbeat sped, “Let’s go get you a prize.”

· ──────────────────── ·

For him to win you a singular prize, it took a game of whack-a-mole, a shared slice of pizza, a tuft of cotton candy, a vigorous pep talk, and sprinkle of beginner’s luck. It was a cheap, funky-looking ring, but you wore it with the utmost pride. 

You both talked excessively, really getting to know each other, and with each new detail, he fell harder. Your shy smile, adorable laugh, witty sense of humor… they were all just a bonus. Normally, you weren’t one to fall, if at all, but you found yourself going against your instinct and doing just that. In hindsight, though, it’d been a long time coming. He was hesitant to initiate any sort of skinship, considering you’d forgiven him an hour prior, but you proved opposite after you mindlessly reached for his hand the second you spotted your favorite ride.

“The spinning teacup! That’s a must!” You both felt the spark from the contact, it was unmistakable, but you both chose not to say anything. He let you drag him over, despite his aversion to the particular ride; he just couldn’t say no. 

“Fine, but promise me you won’t spin fast.”

“Pinky promise.”

As the cup turned, albeit at snail pace, he admired the light wind that flowed delicately through your hair. You had a certain aura, he couldn’t help but notice. It was enchanting. The moonlight kissed your skin beautifully, it had him watching in infatuated awe. 

“You’re staring.”

“Pssh, I’m not staring.” You eyed him and he crinkled his nose, “Fine, I was staring. I can’t help it, you’re beautiful.”

He didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from, perhaps it was just the motion sickness, but he didn’t regret it. You turned away from him, clearly flustered, and it made him smile. The ride ended quicker than he expected, but it was a welcomed relief, considering his well-being. The second he stepped from the cup, he fell to the floor. 

“I barely spun the cup! It turned, like, a mile an hour!”

“I’m sensitive! I get sick easily.” He lifted himself off the ground, just slightly, continuing with a corny joke. “Look at me on the floor, I guess some might say… I fell for you.”

You snorted, not at the cheesy line, but the aggressive finger-gun that accompanied it. He tried to wink but failed, immediately hunching over from the queasy feeling in his stomach, “Oh my God, I’m going to die.”

He made an ugly, inhuman noise. 

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m great. I just think it’s my time to go.”

He reminded you a lot of Kai—both of them had an affinity for being overly dramatic.

You rubbed his back soothingly. He felt so embarrassed, but the feeling was overshadowed by the sickly feeling. You continued caressing, making sure to glare at anyone that dared judge him. You crouched down until you were eye level and brushed his hair from his forehead, giving him a small smile. At that moment, he could’ve sworn you were an angel of some sort. He felt better instantly. 

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, waving his hand carelessly, telling you not to worry.

“Let’s just head home. I’ll have Kai pick us up, he’ll definitely do it.” You paused, crinkling your forehead in thought, “Scratch that, he just got his license and ran over a cone yesterday.” 

He stood up slowly, waving his hand once more. “In the recipe for a perfect carnival date, the ferris wheel is a must.”

You didn’t like where he was going with that. 

“You’re going to hurl if we go on that. For real, this time.”

He rested his hand atop his heart. “I won’t! I swear.”

“I don’t know...”

He laced his hand with your own and pulled you to the carnival’s main attraction. He fiddled with the ring on your finger, proudly glancing at it every once in a while.

Just your luck, a slightly younger couple was paired with you on the ferris wheel. The ride operator shoved the four of you into the cramped, tiny compartment, ignoring the silent plea Taehyun sent her way. The other couple sat hesitantly with a noticeable distance between them, awkwardly shifting every now and then. The young men—one blond, one with raven black hair—stayed quiet and you couldn’t help but think they were also on their first date. They often glanced at each other but didn’t talk and Taehyun had to hide his amusement. All four of you simmered in uncomfortable silence for a good portion of the ride. 

Taehyun unconsciously threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close as you laid your head on his shoulder. It was a subtle display of affection that made you blush, but he didn’t notice. Out of the corner of his eyes, Taehyun watched the blond boy copy his movement, just significantly clumsier—the poor boy accidentally smacked his boyfriend square on the nose. It took a lot for Taehyun (and you) to suppress an amused laugh.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” whispered the blond. His boyfriend let out a small, nervous laugh, “It’s okay.”

The black-haired boy gently rubbed his nose before reaching for his boyfriend’s hand—a simple compromise. The blond avoided eye contact with you and Taehyun, choosing to shift his gaze to the carnival below. The black-haired boy spoke first, “We’re kind of… new to dating.”

The blond cringed, still looking at the fair, before nodding in agreement. You giggled at the obvious tension, quickly comforting, “It’s cute! You two seem like an adorable couple.”

The couple smiled fondly at each other. The blond squeezed his boyfriend’s hand reassuringly and it made you smile. They seemed so in love, you were swooning. The remainder of the ride was silent and the couple chose to get off the ride after the first go-around. The blond meekly nodded his head in Taehyun’s direction and your boy gently returned the gesture with a shy, caring smile. 

As soon as they were out of earshot, you both broke into a fit of laughter, “Oh my God! He was totally copying you, that’s adorable!”

Taehyun gushed, “They both were so flustered! Too cute.”

You both spent the next go-around giggling, conversing about nothing, and sharing sweet, longing gazes. The carnival beneath you slowly began shutting down, each area turning their lighting off one by one. You kept your hand laced with his and while you glanced down the dying fair, he lovingly gazed at you. 

“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” You gestured below. He trained his gaze to the lack of vivid lighting around the carnival and sighed, “Yeah, I guess so.”

He squeezed your hand tighter. You didn’t want to part from him so soon and he shared your exact sentiment. 

· ──────────────────── ·

As Taehyun pulled into your driveway, you instantly spotted Kai’s silhouette lurking in your bedroom window.

“Jesus Christ,” you grumbled.

Kai had spent his night waiting for you to come home, eager to hear your nightmarish tale. He planned to head to his house and simply wait for your inevitable call, but when he left to grab takeout, he found himself straying back to your house. Your mother must’ve let him in, granted he was also gifted a key and he used it regularly. Your mind suddenly short-circuited by the feeling of Taehyun’s hand atop your own. If you noticed his tremble and clamminess, you didn’t mention it. 

He cleared his throat, “Let me walk you to your door.”

You sheepishly nodded, anxious to speak. If yesterday, someone had told you you would be this shy at the end of the night, you would’ve laughed in their face. He rushed to open your door and you let him, much to his surprise, without any snarky remark. The short distance to your front door didn’t stop him from holding your hand, leaving you a giggly, flustered mess.

You could practically feel Kai’s smirk. 

Taehyun stood awkwardly, frequently shifting his weight, while you nervously picked at your fingernail, both waiting for the other to break the silence. He took the first leap of faith, “I had a great time tonight, I hope you did too.”

You were too focused on his calloused thumb tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand, making you lose your train of thought, “Yeah! Yes! So fun!”

You winced at your overly enthusiastic response. The luminous light, hanging haphazardly above you did little to hide your anxiousness. He chuckled softly, glad he wasn’t the only nervous one, “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry you nearly threw up.” You both cringed at the recent memory. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Don’t worry. Weirdly, that’s not the worst thing to happen to me on a date.”

You tilted your head curiously, you wished to hear his story. Frankly, you found yourself wishing to hear everything about him, but before anything, you needed to get some stuff off your own chest. “I’m also sorry about other stuff. I have more to apologize than you, even before the incident, I was always so abrasive and mean, and I want to apologize for that. And, I, uh, also kind of broke into your house… so obviously I’m sorry about that too. Not to mention, I thin—” 

He placed his hand on your cheek and caressed softly, making you quiet. “It’s water under the bridge.”

You shyly smiled, looking away from his adoring gaze. He tried mustering up a cheesy line but he found himself losing focus, his eyes constantly straying to your lips; he couldn’t help it, he really wanted to kiss you. He sucked in a deep breath, gathering the courage to just do it, even though he knew you’d likely reject his advance. After all, it was just the first date and you only forgave him three hours ago.

Not to mention, Kai stole your phone to get Taehyun’s number just to inform him of your strict no-kiss policy.

He hesitantly brushed your hair behind your ear before leaning in slowly, his plush, attractive lips easily tempting you. Unfortunately for him, you kept to your rule. You splayed your hand across his chest before pushing him back gently, “Nice try, Romeo.”

He wasn’t surprised, it was a long shot anyways. He’d just regret it if he didn’t try. He nodded understandingly before leaning in once more, this time to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t hide the obvious blush that dusted your cheeks, making him grin. Maybe you weren’t as tough as you liked to seem. 

He felt hopeful.

“So for our next date, I was thinking mini golf,” he said enthusiastically. His eyes sparkled with excitement; he seemed thrilled, you couldn’t help but giggle, “Easy there tiger, I don’t recall ever saying anything about a second date.”

He leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek, pulling away only slightly to whisper, “I think I’ll be getting another date.”

He was right. He was definitely getting another date… and maybe, just maybe, you’d break your no-kiss rule.

[plaidbooks]

Cabin Life - Whittling Roses

A/N: Hello, I have lost complete control of myself and just keep writing this AU. I blame @berniesilvas, but I also love her and this AU so much. For now, this was all the concrete ideas I had--everything else is vague ideas that I don’t have a fic plotted for yet. I hope you all enjoy!

Tags: just fluff, the briefest mention of smut (only one line), and a little bit of a make-out session

Words: 1857

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart  @beccabarba  @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy  @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl  @glimmerglittergirl  @reading--mermaid  @averyhotchner  @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

As predicted, the snowstorm blocked off contact between you and Sonny for most of the winter months. As soon as the snow started to melt, it would snow again, causing a bigger buildup. He texted you when he could—when the cells had connection—but otherwise, he was confined to his cabin, as you were to yours.

He never once stopped thinking about you, especially when he was huddled in a pile of your blankets, the fireplace happily crackling in front of him. He remembered the night he made love to you right there on the floor, and he wished he could do it again, in his bed this time. Even the thought of your body in his embrace, your warmth and scent surrounding him, was enough to make his body flush with desire.

To help take his mind off you…well, to help control his thoughts—there was no “not thinking” about you—he took a block of wood inside, his whittling blade in hand. When he looked at that block of unimpressive, plain wood, he could clearly see what he wanted to make. But even with his skill, it was a complicated task. At least he had months to work on it.

He spent most of his time whittling. He only took a break to cook, eat, maybe watch tv if he could get a signal in the blizzard. He also brought in a separate piece of wood, to practice different techniques on; he wanted his gift to you to be perfect, to show his love for you.

Sonny let his mind wander as he whittled—as long as he paid attention to the details. His mind irrevocably went back to you every time. He wanted to ask how you felt about kids; though you had mentioned wanting them before, he wanted to see if that was still true.

Eventually, his mind wandered to him marrying you. He wanted to propose, with rings and everything, have both your families there. Maybe he could build an archway to go in that meadow or something, cover it with flowers. He was already building a bridge to go across that creek by his place. An archway shouldn’t be too hard.

Then he smiled as a thought struck him; what if he whittled the wedding rings? He’d have to get better, perfect his craft before he even attempted at something so important. He’d have to talk to you about that, too, make sure you were okay with it. He had enough money to buy a traditional ring, if that’s what you wanted.

 ***********************

About a month into his project, he finished the first of what he hoped would be a dozen roses. He gazed intently at the bud, the petals. Then, his eyes travelled down the stem to the leaf, the veins carved into it. Was it the best rose ever made? Absolutely not. But it was a rose, and it would be perfect for you.

It had taken him much longer than he had anticipated to make one rose. He had stopped frequently to practice petals and veins, though, which had taken up time. Still, he was afraid he wouldn’t finish them quick enough; he had never spent a winter in the cabin, and he didn’t know how long the storms lasted (he had to make a call to the Willis’s for how to cover his gardens). So, while he felt jubilation at finishing one rose, he didn’t celebrate, instead getting right back to it.

The second rose only took him two weeks, and the third, a week. Now that the stems were done, he was getting faster at doing the petals and leaves. He still took his time, made sure he didn’t mess them up, but he was improving. Some of them, he left as bulbs, the petals just opening, while others were in full bloom. He debated painting them, but he wanted to make his own dyes, and he had no idea how to do that. Plus, he kind of liked the light, wooden color.

Once he finished, he fought the urge to continue working on them. He did go back and fix up some details in the first flower that he learned to deal with by the tenth. Now came the question of what to put them in. Does he get a fancy ribbon and tie the stems together for a bouquet? Or should he whittle a vase for them? It’s not like they needed water.

Outside, the blizzard raged on. So, Sonny figured he could make a vase, and if he didn’t like it, he could toss it in the fireplace. Taking yet another block of wood, he got to work. This project, he had a little less of a vision than before. He thought about it as he pulled the roses together, measuring how big of an opening he needed on top.

Slowly, a shape began to form in his mind’s eye, and he started cutting. He wanted a long, skinny neck on top, and a wider base. He wouldn’t have to hollow the inside, only the top part enough to hold the roses. Still, he was doing it by hand, and it took him another month to have just the basic shape done. But he wanted to add details.

Taking his smallest whittling tool, he went to work on the design. Maybe it was corny, but Sonny was a corny guy. He carved apples and his best attempt at lavender flowers, the two things that drew you both together. And in the middle, he carved out a heart, both of your initials inside. He smiled when he was done, knowing that you’d love it regardless; it came from him.

He collected all the wooden roses and rearranged them in the vase until they were how he wanted them. He smiled proudly at the sight, and he wished the snow would stop so he could give them to you now.

 **********************

He only had to wait another two weeks before the snow finally let up enough for him to visit you. The sky was a bright blue, the sun making the fallen snow blinding. Sonny texted you that he was coming over, asking if you wanted to go with him to the local shops to restock on some food. You agreed, and he was instantly on his ATV, the roses zipped up protectively in his jacket.

Sonny parked, then came up to your front door, vase in hand. He knocked and then was suddenly worried that you’d hate the roses, that you’d think him childish. You had given him blankets, something useful, while all he made was wooden flowers—

You opened the door, smiling brightly when you saw Sonny standing there. You had missed him deeply, and you were happy to see his hair and beard longer. Then your eyes flicked down to the wooden vase clutched in his hand.

“What’s this?” you asked, voice hushed in awe at the bouquet.

He swallowed hard. “I, uh, I made ya these fer ya…. I thought, ya know, that I should get ya flowers. But they always wilt and die, so I thought if I made them outta wood, then….”

“You—you made these?” Your eyes tore from the roses to lock to his blues.

He slowly extended his arm, holding the vase out to you, and you took it, marveling at the details in the leaves and petals, then the vase itself. You chuckled as you recognized the apples and lavender, and you had to blink away tears when you saw the heart.

“Sonny, I love them. Thank you so much,” you breathed, smiling up at him.

He grinned nervously, shifting from foot to foot. “Ya do? I was afraid that they weren’t useful—”

“Of course, they’re useful,” you replied, and he tilted his head, brow furrowed. “They show me how much you love me, even when you’re not here to tell me yourself.”

The brightness of his smile could match that of the sun. “Plus, they’ll never die, like my love for you.”

“You sap,” you said, giggling. With your free hand, you grabbed his jacket and pulled him to you for a sweet kiss. His nose and lips were chilled from the wind outside, but you didn’t care. Besides, his lips warmed quickly enough against yours.

“Come on; let’s head to the market so I can get ya home ‘fore the snow starts back up,” Sonny muttered against your lips.

You snuck another kiss. “Why bring me home? Why not just take me to your place? I know we could keep each other warm”

He let out a low growl, kissing you deeper, his tongue in your mouth. Your bodies were magnetic, drawing each other closer. It was a struggle to pull away long enough to place the roses on a table before you were back, body melding to his, hand going to his hair. He pushed you against the doorjamb, hands exploring under the hem of your jacket.

Your father cleared his throat from inside the house, and Sonny sprung off you as if you had shocked him. “S—sorry, sir—” he stammered, face turning a bright red.

Your father crossed his arms, giving him a hard look. “Just close the door; you’re letting the heat out.”

You gave Sonny a sheepish grin as he came inside, closing the door behind him. You told him you needed to pack some things, and you took the vase, heading for your room, leaving Sonny and your father alone.

The latter studied Sonny intently, gazing at him from over his spectacles, and Sonny tried not to fidget under his scrutiny.

“I intend to marry your daughter,” he blurted out. He winced internally; why the fuck did he say that?! But now that it was out there, he was prepared to defend it to the death. He kept his face a mask of stone, not letting your father see his fear.

He continued staring at Sonny, weighing his words. “Does she know that?”

“She does; I told her last time she was over. From the moment I saw her, I knew that I wanted nothin’ more than to marry her.”

He nodded lightly; just a jut of his chin. “Have you proposed? Do you have a ring?”

“It’s only been a few months; I wanted to wait a lil, make sure it’s what she wants, too,” Sonny explained.

“Just don’t wait too long; I don’t want you leading her on or hurting her.”

Sonny’s eyes widened in offense. “I would never—”

You came back right then, a duffle bag in your hand, and glancing nervously between the two men. “Whatcha talkin’ about?” you asked uncertainly.

“Nothing dear. Have fun and stay safe,” your father said, and he came over, kissing your cheek, then headed to a different room.

You cocked an eyebrow at Sonny, but he just shook his head, moving to hold the door open for you. Confused at the tension, you went out into the crisp, winter air, taking a deep breath. You were sure Sonny would tell you the whole story later.

[peachhyychenle]

bloom bloom, heart | h.rj

'bloom bloom pow! the moment i met you, i felt like i'd explode. my heart fluttered. i hope it's not a dream' - bloom bloom, the boyz

pairing: florist!renjun x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.6k

for the nostalgic melodies event hosted by @knet-bakery

playlist: bloom bloom the boyz, life still goes on nct dream, dive into you nct dream, cherry kisses chungha

a/n: my first fic for an event!! i hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. also,, go check out everyone else that participated in the event!! oh, i also haven't had the time to proof-read this so, sorry lmao.

summary: flowers held many different meanings, and renjun loved that. from giving someone a baby's breath to giving them peonies, he loved how up front the message was, yet how hidden it was to someone that didn't understand their true meanings. You had always adored flowers, the colours, the scents, the meanings. And so, every week, you would go into Floral Dreams, to buy new flowers to draw, however Renjun would always throw in additional flowers to express his ever-growing crush on you, unbeknownst to him you understood every word.

If you had told Renjun this time last year he would be working part time as a florist, he would've simply laughed. But yet here he is, adorning a black apron, rearranging the plants in the display cabinet.

Floral Dreams was a great place for Renjun. It was never too busy, it was a five minute walk to his apartment and, thanks to Donghyuck, he has learned far more about flowers in the past month than he has learned about art history at his uni classes. He would never admit it to him, but Renjun was intrigued by the meanings each flower held.

From the bluebell to the yellow carnation, every flower held a different meaning. At first, Renjun couldn't care less. They were just flowers after all, their only job to him was to sit and look pretty. However the longer he spent in the floristry, the more his curiosity and his passion grew.

And now here he was, currently wiping down the counter he had just used to arrange a bouquet for somebody's birthday.

As he returned behind the till, the soft chime of the shop door bell rang. He glanced over and locked eyes with you. You seemed to be a regular. always popping in on a Wednesday afternoon, no matter the weather, to buy different pre-made bouquets. At first, Renjun found it odd how you would only buy one particular colour palette of flowers or even just a singular flower, however as you came in more often than not with a camera bag over your shoulder along with a sketchbook poking out the top of the tote bag you carried, it started becoming clear why you would buy them.

His current theories are that you are an artist that just really liked to paint flowers (specifically pink and yellow varieties) or you're a plant mum that just has an apartment filled to the brim with colourful flowers and plants.

His first hunch was correct.

A few months ago, you had moved into Neo City in order to attend the local university and study fine art. It was an interesting place for sure. It was a quaint town yet there was always something going on, whether it be different celebrations for certain holidays or events, to small annual carnivals and parades that would happen.

During your first week of moving in, you had explored the town centre, natural curiosity getting the better of you. That was when you stumbled upon Floral Dreams. The forest green painting on the window frames along with several broad leafed plants sat outside the shop, charmed you.

You remember when you first met Renjun. It was a rainy Wednesday about a month after you had moved. Your classes had just finished and you decided to buy a small bouquet. Something to brighten your dreary dorm room. And so you headed to Floral Dreams. When you stepped into the shop, instead of the cheery greeting you would usually get from Donghyuck, you found that he was busy talking to another guy, Renjun.

Both boys had briefly glanced towards the door, with Donghyuck giving a small wave, whilst the other boy shot you a smile. He was cute.

Returning the wave with your own, you continued into the shop, looking at all the flowers, taking in their colours and scents. Five minutes had gone by and you had chosen all the flowers you had wanted and walked up to the counter to place your order.

You rang the small bell placed on the countertop and after a few seconds, the new guy from earlier emerged from the back room and properly greeted and introduced himself, Renjun.

To say he was pretty was an understatement. He had a soft smile, kind eyes and long hair which made him look ethereal. His voice was melodic. So melodic that you only snapped back to reality halfway through his sentence.

You purchased the flowers and had another look around the empty shop, this time to admire the blossoming flowers. Back at the counter, Renjun would glance at you, whilst he wrapped the bouquet, his mind thinking about your smile and vibe whilst his hands carefully wrapped the bouquet up.

When he was finished, he rang the desk bell to catch your attention. He handed you the flowers and you were on your way. Not before turning back to Renjun and shooting him one last smile with a cheerful goodbye.

From the moment you walked in, Renjun knew his heart had exploded and his slightly dull world would never be the same again.

Week after week you would come back to the shop. It was always at 4pm and it was always an hour into Renjun's shift. You guys had managed to acquaint yourselves and make small talk, with the weather and how both of you had been, being the usual topic of choice.

Today Renjun was determined to make a move. Whether it was changing the topic to be something more in depth, or giving his number to you, he was definitely going to do something. And so when you walked up to the counter to place your order, Renjun made his move. He asked the question that had been on his mind. Why in the heavens did you buy so many flowers? The laughter that followed made Renjun's heart flutter, it was beautiful.

You then proceeded to explain the reason you moved and why almost all the store's sales were from you. Upon hearing that you went to the same university he did, Renjun was enthralled and began talking about his passion for art and the history behind famous pieces.

Much to his dismay, his hands had a mind of their own, and had wrapped up your selected bouquet far too quickly for his liking. Just as you were about to grab the bouquet, Renjun let out a 'wait!' which made you pause.

He ran into the back room and came out a moment later with some ribbon along with a couple of gardenias and blue salvias. 'It'll make the bouquet look amazing, trust me' he said with that smile you had fallen for.

Once he was done, you took the flowers, bid him adieu and left, ready to take photographs of this masterpiece.

As soon as you left, Renjun let out a sigh of content and his heart started to calm down. He had a crazy idea to use what he had learned from Donghyuck, and to confess to you in the form of flowers.

It was a bold move, one that made him feel happy with himself.

Over the next couple of months the same routine would occur. You arrived, picked out flowers, ordered the bouquet, Renjun would wrap them up, you would take them, then leave.

However, as time went on, you began noticing flowers that you hadn't picked out.

For example, you had ordered a bouquet with mainly red flowers, with a couple of white ones to make it more visually appealing, however you don't really remember picking up the white camellia. Or that time you noticed a couple of yellow jasmines mixed with your sunflowers.

You eventually thought of looking up what these flowers meant. You knew one of your old high school flowers loved gardening and would often talk about flower meanings, but you had never paid any mind to them. Oh how you wish you had.

And so that's how you spent the evening on different websites looking at different meanings for all the flowers you could remember buying, and the definitions.

The morning after, you had a brilliant idea.

That next week, you came in at the usual time with a list on your phone of all the flowers you had never actually bought. You suspected that a certain someone kept slipping different flowers into your bouquet, which was actually quite sweet to you, however you were going to surprise him.

You picked out various flowers that were composed for a yellow, blue and white theme. You included the yellow jasmines and gardenias, along with the white camellias and blue salvias. Additional flowers were added and made a stunning bouquet, the best you had imagined yet.

For how quiet the shop was, your heart was thumping a lot louder than usual, despite this you walked to the till with a small smile. The normal routine went on, Renjun making conversation with you. The topic for today was conspiracies and aliens, which would usually be quite interesting to you, but your mind was in a different place.

Just as Renjun was tying the last ribbon up, a 'wait!' escaped your lips. A slightly startled Renjun paused to look at you. Dashing away to the front of the store, you picked out a red rose and walked back to where he was waiting.

Much to his surprise, you added the rose to the centre of the bouquet, pushed the bouquet towards him and then pulled out a letter that had been in your coat pocket and pushed it across the counter in his direction.

He froze. Almost everyone knew what a red rose meant.

He opened the letter. All the flowers he had given you with their meanings were listed, along with the red rose.

I love you.

Underneath was a small paragraph. His already racing heart began to explode as he read the words 'let's go on a date tomorrow' followed with your number underneath.

He looked back up to you. You were currently looking everywhere and anywhere that wasn’t Renjun.

Placing the letter down, he came around from behind the desk and hugged you. He could feel you tense up under him, however in a matter of seconds, your arms were around him, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips.

From the moment he met you, his heart had exploded, the colours in his world seemed to be brighter whenever you were there.

He loved hearing your laugh, seeing your smile, being in your presence.

Time felt non-existent with you.

He loved you, as much as you loved him.

And that was all he needed.

[silma-words]

Another prompt for Adrian and MC...

Number 5 / "say please"

not sure how you want to take this one, but I thought the smut could be next level... have fun! 😂

N/A: Omg I cannot thank you enough for this prompt @mssukeyna! This was so much fun, and a great prompt to push me a little out of my comfort zone! I literally woke up 2h earlier every day so that I could write more before work ;) I hope you’ll like it!

~~~~~

Choices: Bloodbound

Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Ellie)

Rating: Explicit (NSFW, 18+)

Genre: Smut.Smut.Smut

AU Chronology: Bloodbound AU (after book 1 – the events of book 2 never happened) – ‘Inevitable - Arc I: Before we part’ (Masterlist)

Summary: “We are travelling for business, Ellie, we’ll have to behave like professionals”, he had warned her, although he did not look so convinced about it himself….

Inspired by the following nsfw-prompts: #5. for sex in public / “say please”

Words: 4200

**Disclaimer: Characters and background plot are the property of Pixelberry.**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Down to business (Part I?)

Getting to travel was one of the perks Ellie enjoyed the most about her job as the CEO’s personal assistant. She never really had any opportunity to get out of her small town before she moved to NYC, and had always been of a curious nature. This job was a dream come true on that matter. But some trips were better than others. The ones that revolved around business negotiations, although exciting in their own ways, were not her favourites. By far, the ones she preferred were the ones that were meant for networking, for Adrian to maintain his relationships with previous business partners. There had not been many of those since she had started working at Raines Corp. but she loved those very much. These business trips revolved mostly around socializing. And socializing was one of her strengths.

But the reason she liked these trips the most was not because of the fancy dinner parties, the pricey hotels, or the designer dresses she got to wear to play the part. No. What she liked the most were the times she could have to herself in between social events, to explore around and satiate her curiosity about ‘the rest of the world’, and the times when she could get Adrian all to herself. He was more relaxed during these trips. More light hearted. More playful. As well as more tuned to her cues than when they were travelling for more serious business. And that, she loved to play around with. A lot.

Adrian was always doing his best to keep up the façade of the boss-assistant interactions between them when they were in public. And she completely understood why. Truly. But that was also so tempting for her to do her best to weave her way through that invisible barrier he was tentatively setting between them.

She would brush his fingers when he would hand her a drink. Sneak a hand up his thigh under the table at dinner. Fiddle with her long strands of hair to attract his attention to her neckline. Oh, his poker face was good. Spot on. Decades of practice truly paying off. But whenever she played her cards well, she could see that façade slowly crumble down. His cheeks slightly changing colour as she would whisper sweet - well maybe not so sweet - nothings to his ear. His Adam’s apple moving slightly at the sight of her legs shifting as she would change position on her seat, her skin exposed through the slit of her dress. His speech suddenly stammering slightly as she would slowly caress the inside of his calf with her foot, whenever she had been sitting across from him at dinner and had felt bold enough to risk reaching blindly under the cover of the table cloth.

She always made sure to keep her face composed so that the other guests would not notice how Adrian’s reactions were directly connected to her. But she would also cast him a challenging look as soon as the moment had passed, to make it perfectly clear that the game was on. And never once had she received back any kind of response that would indicate that Adrian was not on board with this. He might play the game by pretending that this behaviour was totally unprofessional, but they both knew that Adrian had never been anyone who cared much about the rules.

This time, their ‘socialising trip’ had led them further from home than ever before. Ellie was finally given the chance to fly out of the country and get a glimpse at Europe, with their first stops leaving her in awe at the wonders of the Italian countryside where they had stayed for five days to catch up with a couple of Adrian’s old ‘friends’ who had chosen to retire there. She did enjoy the socializing parts way more than she had anticipated: who would have dared to complain about the exquisite cuisine, the tours of the vineyards, the breath-taking views over lakes and mountains, and the luxurious guestrooms they could discreetly retreat to when the schmoozing was getting boring and the yearning had become too much.

The last part of their ten-days trip had also reached beyond of her expectations: she had always dreamt of discovering France, and although their journey would not grant her her secret wish of seeing Paris, she found out that the luxurious hills and valleys of the South-West of France were as equally magnificent as what she had seen so far over the last few days. There was so much history around, old medieval castles and ancient caves that she wished she could explore, that her curiosity and excitement seemed to be only matched by Adrian’s nerdy enthusiasm. European history was not necessarily his strongest suit, but he did know quite a few things about it, and gladly shared with her his knowledge about the places they travelled through. His expertise on French wines was definitely spot on though. And kind of sexy too.

Their guest was – unsurprisingly – a wealthy investor who had inherited a prosperous estate from his great-grandfather who was, originally, the business partner Adrian had been trading with at the beginning of the twentieth-century. Pretending to be his own descendant was apparently something Adrian was quite used to. Even though their current host – Emile – was pretty obnoxious.

They dined, visited local investors, attended a couple of art exhibitions grand opening nights. And indulged on wine, local delicacies, and smouldering gazes in between polite handshakes and casual conversations. Ellie’s French was not really up to the challenge when other guests could not speak English, but luckily Adrian was doing quite well in that department – another sexy trait to add to that very long list that Ellie kept filling up in her head.

That night, their host had been planning a special treat for his guests – Adrian and Ellie among a larger group of about thirty: a tour of his private ‘art collection’, followed by a fancy garden-party on his estate. Ellie had been looking forward to it, until the tour had started and she had realised that most of these ‘pieces of art’ were actually ancient remains that Emile had bought from lucky ‘discoverers’ around the world and snatched from the hands of archaeologists and museums to fill up his own little private gallery. As the tour was going on, she kept grumbling by Adrian’s side, drawing the attention of a few other guests that were marvelling at these stolen relics and obviously did not care much about how these had been acquired. As the group proceeded to move on to the next room, Adrian discreetly motioned her to move aside and slow her pace, grinning at her once they had managed to place themselves at the tail of the touring group.

“I know this is grating you, but this is quite a common thing these days – there is no point sulking about it now while there is not much we can do about it”.

“You’re the one to talk, ‘Mr-I-glare-at-that-old-British-dude-for-buying-an-original-John Trumbull-canvas-to-decorate-his-guestroom’!”, she retorted challengingly. “These objects are as important to historians as those Revolutionary War paintings you keep talking about. They shouldn’t be kept in here only to be displayed once a year to a bunch of rich morons who care more about how much he paid for it than about what these objects were”.

“I know, I know…” Adrian admitted with a sight, raising his hands in surrender. “But as I said, there is not much we can do about it now. Let try to survive through this tour and enjoy the night.”

Rolling her eyes, Ellie let out an annoyed sight and finally nodded, her tensed shoulders still betraying her frustration.

The tour proceeded, Adrian and Ellie sharing eye rolls and annoyed looks every time Emile would brag about the price of a unique item. They always kept behind when they could, making a point of looking at some of the glass panels in detail to at least try to learn a little something out of this display of wealth. But that revealed to be a nearly impossible endeavour. There was barely any labels or information attached to these objects whatsoever. Nothing there to keep them distracted from that never ending tour. Well. Apart from each other.

It started with just the tingle of his breath in her neck as he was hovering above her to look at an old grease-lamp from some ancient cave. And then continued as she would casually hook her arm through his while staring at the antic statue of a Roman god. And a brush of his fingers down her spine as he stood behind her pretending to listen to Emile’s dull blabber. Her hand sneaking along the side of his thigh as they followed the group around. The light pressure of his hand on her lower back as he led her to move past him into yet another room.

Pretending to pay attention to their host was increasingly difficult. Preventing their faces from betraying their very unprofessional thoughts even more so.

“I know I have said this before but…”, Adrian whispered in her ear, a playful smile forming on his lips, “I love that little tempter of yours… it makes me feel… a lot of things”.

He could hear Ellie’s heartbeat race in her chest at his words, even though she was keeping her eyes trained on the display panel before them, doing her best to keep her composure while the predatory tone in his voice was making her knees tremble slightly. The other guests were buzzing around them, pointing at glass display cases here and architectural features there, oblivious to the heat surrounding the two secret lovers as if the bubble Adrian and Ellie had formed around them had turned them into two of those trinkets exposed around the room that nobody was truly paying attention to.

Trying to break through the thick air that had been lingering between them, Ellie shifted on her heels to follow the flock of people that were regrouping to move along, casting a knowing smile at Adrian, and holding his gaze for a few seconds before walking away.

But before she could turn left into the next corridor, she felt his arm wrap around her middle, only to swiftly whoosh her aside to a secluded corner of the room, out of sight from the rest of the group thanks to one of the strong pillars that supported the roof of the exhibition room. A gasp escaped her lips as he sprung her around, pressing her back against the cold marble as he eagerly captured her lips in a searing kiss, his hands pressed against her neck, and his torso edging closer to her chest as she was gradually yielding to his powerful embrace.

Trailing her fingers up his neck until they reached his hair, she eventually gave a gentle tug so that she could make a break for air, their lips just a few inches apart as she teased, breathless: “I thought we had to keep our public appearances strictly professional, Mr Raines?”

She felt his grin against her mouth more than she could see it. “Well, what we are doing now is purely professional, Miss Reed. If there was anyone left around to see us, I’d just explain how I was telling all about...” he paused to nibble at her lower lip for a few seconds, “... about the sturdiness of these eighteenth-century pillars...”.

“Eighteenth century, han?” she giggled against his lips, her voice catching in her throat to form a silent moan as Adrian’s mouth began to trail down her chin to follow her jawline.

Her mind struggling between the will to keep her eyes open to check that no one was in sight, and the tantalizing swirls of his tongue against the skin beneath her ear, the shivers that were running down her spine quickly sorted that battle for her. She let her eyelids drop and her head fall back to rest against the stone behind her, focusing only on Adrian’s touch and on the way his hands had now started to drift from her neck to her shoulders, inching lower and lower as his mouth tasted the salt of the skin down her neck and along her collarbone.

Her hands unconsciously travelling from his hair to his back, they suddenly grabbed his shoulders a little tighter to press him closer as she felt him reach for the fabric of her dress to bunch the black silk over her hips. It took all of her will to remain silent when Adrian wedged his knee between her legs, her lips tightening in a thin line to repress a whimper as his fingers trailed down one of her thigh to her knee so he could lift her leg up against his hip, pressing himself forward to conquer the empty space between them.

She could feel his grin against her windpipes when her hips started to grind against his of their own accord, the tight grip of his fingers against her rear sending waves of heat down to where their bodies met.

“I think one of us should keep an eye on that corridor, in case anyone is sent out to look for us” he whispered against her skin, before lifting his gaze back to her, his golden eyes glimmering with mischief. “Would that be a mission you’d be happy to take on, Miss Reed?”

“Of course” she manages to answer, her voice croaking from anticipation.

“Good.” he grins. “Then, you’ll have to face the other way…”

She barely had time to register what he meant before she felt the heat of his body replace the cold marble that had been pressing against her back. She instinctively reached forward to place her palms on the pillar as Adrian resumed his pressing touches eagerly, one arm wrapped around her chest to keep her close, and the other finding its way between her thighs.  

She could peek at the corridor ahead of them from where they stood, most of their bodies hidden by the imposing column that seemed to edge closer and closer to her as Adrian’s touch became more insistent. But being able to see ahead did not mean that she was actually looking. Even if she had wanted to fulfil her ‘mission’, the pressure of his left palm against her thigh and the hand that slipped under the fabric of her cleavage made it near impossible to focus on the task. The soft bites and kisses her neck were subjected to were not helping either.

Not being able to see or touch him was like torture, his quiet groans vibrating from his chest to her ribs, and his arousal pressing firmly against her back like a wicked promise that was for now beyond reach. Her back arched involuntarily when a firm hand grabbed her breast, his warm breath beneath her ear betraying his grin as the fingers on her thigh started to wander towards the edge of her underwear, playing with the seam of the lace before sneaking underneath with a deliberate slowness that had her whimper behind her tightened lips.

The light graze of his fingertips against her swollen nerves was all that was needed to weaken all muscles in her body, making both of them dangerously tumble forward as her arms gave in, removing the only leverage she had against Adrian’s pressure in her back, which had been keeping her so far from being flushed against the cold marble with no room to escape the sweet torment of his heated caresses.

Even though her eyes were now shut, she knew that Adrian was watching closely her features when she let her head fall back to rest in his shoulder, her brain going into overdrive when his touch became more pressing, kneading her breast and drawing lazy circles against her centre relentlessly. It was not long before she lost the last bit of control she had left over her own body, her lips parting slightly to let a moan escape, quickly muffled by Adrian’s mouth covering hers in an attempt to preserve the silence around them.

That might have worked perfectly, if only he had been able to kiss her with more restraint. Instead, his tongue had quickly found its way through her parted lips, brushing hers in patterns mirroring the movement of his fingertips between her legs, swallowing her whines as if he could taste her own pleasure through the ragged sounds that he was drawing out of her.

She was itching to touch him. One of her hands had left the cold surface of the pillar to find its way to his head and tangle in his hair, her entire body squirming against his to seek the friction that she was craving for. She knew he was trying to make her lose her mind. And it was working. She could feel his fingers slide gradually further down against her core, dipping into the wetness of her folds before retreating back, drawing growl after growl each time.

She could tell Adrian was relishing this by the way the corners of his mouth curled against hers. It was only when he suddenly pulled away from her swollen lips that she finally opened her eyes again, the lust and wickedness of his gaze sending a shiver all the way down to her toes. He had stopped moving, simply holding her petite form against his chest as tight as deemed possible, his golden eyes anchored to hers with an unmistakable gleam of challenge and promise.

“Adrian…” she mumbled feebly, desperately trying to grind against him but unable to resist his hold on her.

He smiled, remaining silent for a few seconds, before finally breaking the stillness with a low, husky voice, in a tone that was somehow both inviting and commanding: “Say please”.

There was no hesitation in her response, no control, her rasped voice echoing around the room as she begged, breathless: “Adrian, pleeeaaase…”

Thankfully, he did not make her say it again, barely waiting a few seconds before plugging a finger into her dampened slit, followed nearly immediately by a second, resuming his circular patterns over her swollen clit with the pad of his thumb. Withdrawing and dipping back into her with maddening slowness, she could feel her muscles clench around his fingers and her knees start to quiver as the pleasure was slowly building in.

Her dilated pupils could not tear away from his golden eyes, silently begging for more as he increased his pace, his hips grinding voraciously against her back, his mouth inches from hers as if resisting the urge to kiss her so that he could revel in the sweet music of her feverish whines echoing around them.

“Adrian… this is… so…” she tried to mutter between her gasps.

Adrian’s eyes flashed with a voracious gleam as he purred against her lips with a proud smirk, “so… good?”.

Her lips pursed weakly to form a teasing grin. “So… unprofessional”.

His smirk only widened further at her words, his hands suddenly moving away from her burning skin to grip her hips, making her head jerk up from his shoulder in surprise. She was about to complain when he swiftly swirled her body around and crashed his lips onto hers, pushing her back against the pillar, the contrast between the cold marble and the heat of her skin making her jump a little in his grasp.

It was not long before Adrian’s hands had found their way back beneath her dress, his fingers reaching hurriedly for the hem of her thong as his mouth started to descend from her mouth to her chin, roaming over her neck and her collarbone, until he sunk to his knees before her, skipping the parts of her that were covered by fabric to head straight for the space right below her navel. Dragging her underwear down her legs, he only broke the contact between his warm lips and her skin so that he could guide the lace over her heels, quickly shoving the fabric in his pocket before capturing her pulsing nub between his lips, not wasting any minute before expertly starting to explore her aching core, nibbling and suckling with an unmatched dedication.

Her hands were roaming all over his head, tangling her fingers in his hair and pushing her hips forward to demand more, her lower lip caught between her teeth to repress the urge to cry out with every stroke of his tongue, or every time the deft fingers that were slithering up and down her inner thigh came close enough to tease her entrance before retreating back wickedly. As much as part of her wanted to pull him back up to his feet and beg him to take her now, the other part could not even fathom the idea of making him stop his godly work between her legs.

There was no more coherent thought going through her fogged brain. Fragmentary visions of heated memories and unspoken fantasies were flashing before her eyes, mingling with the rousing sight of Adrian down on his knees before her, tasting her fervently in every way that she had ever dreamt of being tasted.

When she felt the intoxicating warmth of his mouth suddenly leave her centre, her mind unconsciously thanked him for ending this sweet torture, expecting the yearning in her core to be satiated soon enough when she would finally get to feel him inside her.

But that sweet release never came.

It took her a few seconds to realise that Adrian had jerked back up to his feet and hurriedly pulled down the fabric of her dress, unceremoniously grabbing Ellie’s waist to move her away from their hiding spot, releasing his grip once she was standing beside him in front of one of the display cases, their back turned away from the corridor.

She had to grip the edge of the display case to keep herself steady, her knees still trembling from Adrian’s handywork just a few seconds before, her eyes opening and closing at a maddening pace to try to clear her clouded brain and regain her senses. It was only when she heard the distinct sound of a pair of heels echoing towards them that she finally understood.

“Monsieur Raines?”, they heard a woman’s voice call out at a distance.

Adrian’s cheeks were flushed, and his hair completely tousled, but he made a quick work of fixing it as well as fixing his shirt with a smirk, mastering the art of regaining his composure in a flick of an eye, like the annoyingly perfect businessman that he was. Ellie fumbled around in an attempt to do the same, fully aware that she would never be able to be as efficient as Adrian, especially in the state of desperate yearning that he had just put her through. She was still panting, her heart thumping in her chest, pupils dilated and cheeks hot from so much blood rushing to her face, both from arousal and from the embarrassment that she knew was about to come.

Ellie jumped a little when the woman’s voice finally reached the room they were in: “Ah, Monsieur Raines! Je vous ai trouvé! Le buffet va commencer, si vous voulez bien rejoindre les autres invités dans le jardin?”.

Ellie had no clue what the woman had just said, and was in no shape to turn around and let the woman see the state of her. She was so grateful that Adrian knew exactly what to say and how to behave casually to buy her a few more minutes to sort out the mess he had made of her… although hearing him speak French was not helping much getting her arousal under control, as he politely answered the woman: “Merci, nous vous rejoignons dans quelques instants.”.

Ellie sighted with relief when she heard the woman’s footsteps retreat, turning around to face him, glaring at him with her best attempt at a reproachful scowl.

“That was….” she started, before being interrupted by Adrian’s mouth on hers, as he pressed a soft kiss on her swollen lips, before pulling away slowly with a grin.

“… unprofessional?” he teased, earning a falsely unamused eye-roll in return.

“We better get going, the party is starting, and all of the other guests are gathered in the gardens now” he announced, translating what the woman had said, but not releasing Ellie from his embrace just yet.

“I am in no state for socialising now” she admitted with a grimace, although she could not fight the teasing grin that was starting to form on her face. “I will never be able to focus properly after this… all I will be thinking about is sorting out this… hum, unfinished business…”

Adrian’s hold tightened a little more around her waist at her words, his eyes still gleaming with mischief and never leaving hers when he stepped slowly away, grabbing her hand to start dragging them both away from the room.

His voice was husky and full of promise when he casually answered with a teasing smile: “Well… unfortunately, we’ll have to play along a little bit longer I’m afraid… but I will certainly be looking forward all evening to the second part of this… unfinished business…”.

~~~

N/A: If anyone else is as eager as Adrian to see how ‘Part II’ of their little ‘public indiscretions’ is going to play out, let me know, and I’d be happy to oblige 😉 This prompt has inspired me way too much, thank you so much for the ask @mssukeyna 😉

~~~

Tagging @adriansbiss , @itsjustwinter , @shanzay44 , @purvishraick, @thefrenchiemama

@choicesficwriterscreations

[marshmallowprotection]

[AE Spoilers]

“So, let’s get this straight, you decided to call me when I’m driving... in the car with you in the passenger seat? How interesting, my love,” he hummed as his cell phone rested against his ear in one hand, while the other remained on the wheel. “Well then, let me set this in the holder if that’s what you’re playing at.” 

He ignored the urge to cast a glance in Lila’s direction. If she was teasing him or testing him, he wanted her to elaborate. She seemed to be amused, though, as he couldn’t help but hear that giggle underneath her breath. He saw her hand press to her mouth. 

“Oh? You’re driving, then? My bad,” she was smiling right through her teeth and he could hear it from the way she spoke. “I should’ve checked with you first then, darling.” 

Saeran blinked, and then thought about that for a moment. Upon realizing what she was playing at, he couldn’t help his own chuckle. “You’re quite literally right next to me. Oh, wait, you’re playing pretend. I see now.”

There was so much going on right now, from the need to find his brother and the need to see through mission through together to the end, and while he’d known that he had lost himself in his thoughts as all of the possible plans that he was preparing for rattled around, it was probably written all over his face that he needed to breathe. 

She had always sensed what was going on within his heart just from the way that his expression shifted. She’d learned to read him like an open book, just as he had started to see more facets of her own smile that sparked a fire inside of him. 

Clearly, she’d gotten the bright idea to draw him away from those thoughts for just a moment so he could breathe. There was so much that he didn’t know, but letting himself get worked up wasn’t going to help him deal with everything that was ahead of them.

“You know, I can touch you when I reach out like this...” he murmured. 

If Lila wanted to play that way, he thought as the amused smile grew on his face, he would play with her right back. With his hand freed, it wasn’t hard for him to slide his fingers across the center of the car and let his fingertips brush against the top of her hand. 

She didn’t jolt away from him, but he did hear the slightest hitch in her breath that proved him right. She was keeping herself composed, though, which told him that she was committed to her game. “Are you sure that you keep playing that game knowing that I’m right here next to you?” 

Though, Lila did huff and look outside her window in response as the shifting landscape around them continued to change from sprawling trees into more and more city streets. It wouldn’t be much longer until they would be able to find the address that V had sent to them.

It would be okay. 

Saeyoung would be okay. 

They just had to believe in that. 

“You know,” he mused. “It’s been a while since we were able to go out for a drive like this. I know that I’ve been rather busy with C&R, working non-stop with the task force. I know that I’ve been neglecting you somewhat, even though you’ve been there right by my side the entire time.”

“I’m still trying to figure out when you had the time to learn how to drive,” was her response. That was when she flipped her hand over and intertwined their fingers together once again. “I feel like you’ve neglected to inform your poor girlfriend on all the milestones that you’ve learned!” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, I mean, how am I supposed to plan for all the things that we’re going to do together once we save Saeyoung? I have to have a good idea of what you’ve done before and what you haven’t, sweetie. Sometimes, it feels like you’re just good at whatever you try the first time,” she said, though her voice was a little bit dejected at that.

It was in reference to her baking skills. She’d tried to do something for him that she’d seen him do with relative ease. Of course, then he helped her do it over again so it turned out right. His face felt warm at the thought of spending the day underneath the sun with her after that. 

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would say that you’re pouting. I didn’t know that you had it in you to have an attitude, princess,” Saeran teased. That got a “hey!” in response which spurred him to laugh out loud. Not at her pouts and whines, just that he was able to see this side of her. 

As the silence slowly rolled over them again, he felt her shift and lean over close to him. Close enough that he wouldn’t be able to ignore the way that her voice hitched in a sultry tone. “So... You wouldn’t mind if I got myself a kiss because you pulled at my poor heartstrings like that?” 

Now, that made him hesitate, his brain pausing as he thought about how that would turn out. The heat began to burn at his cheeks without mercy. She’d got the slip on him. “Uh... should I pull over for that?”

Lila paid no mind to that, and without missing a beat, she changed directions to leave him floundering to see what he could do about that. “Mmm, you know, it’s been a while since you ate today, right? How’s about some corn, then? You have had some fascinating with vegetables, lately.”

“...Hmm? What corn?” He paused, and thought back to an earlier conversation that the two of the had. Oh, she had been recounting her childhood back to him and how often she spent in the gardens with her grandparents. They grew a lot of flowers, but plenty of fruits and vegetables, as well. 

He really had the gall to ask her if the country was a rustic as he thought that it was. Or, if the farmer stereotypes were real. She seemed rather amused about the whole thing but reassure him that the question was fair, given that he’d not known! 

Saeran snorted, “Do you want to see me gnawing at it like a rabbit, or something like that? You should’ve brought a straw hat and some spare straw to go with it, then. If you’re at it, why not go the full mile, my love? Hell, I’ll go ahead and play the harmonica while we’re at it. I’d say that’s what sells the experience.” 

That made her laughter ring in his ears again. She couldn’t control her giggles this time around. His dry tone had always had that effect on her when he was able to make jokes like this. He was still getting used to feeling this weightless but she made him feel like he could do this. 

It also made him want to make her laugh more just to hear that sound.

“I’d be happy if you did feed me, though.” 

“Mmm, be patient, mister. I need to catch my breath again!” 

Saeran gently pulled her hand to his lips where he pressed them against the back of her hand. He glanced at her this time, seeing the way her brown eyes widened and pink dusted over her freckles cheeks. 

He hadn’t looked at her for a moment this whole time, and that had given her the gall to speak more with a brazen tone. 

She looked beautiful bathed the in the dimming afternoon sunlight. He wondered if she knew that. He would have to let her know when they were on solid ground again. 

“Are you going to keep your phone on?” 

Lila cocked a brow, “Are you concerned about your phone bill?”

Saeran shook his head. Though, he smiled at her reassuringly as her face fell a bit. He knew why she had bothered with him in the first place. “No, no... I wish I could be as close to you as humanly possible right now. I want to be able to give you more... but it feels like the phone is watching us. Besides, I only want you to hear what I’m thinking right now.” 

She pressed the end to the call and smiled back at him. It would be okay in the long run. He knew that. She was here to reassure him and confide him when he needed it. “Well then, Mr. Choi, my full attention belongs to you.”

“Don’t say my name like that, it only reminds me that I’m sorely slacking at figuring out how to make you Mrs. Choi.” 

[ereawrites]

Tim Drake x Reader - Envy

The first time he realises it's more than a stupid crush is mid-summer, sweat across the back of his neck, ice in his drink. Bruce has had a tough few weeks, and he's learning to surround himself with the people he cares about in times like these: besides, the weather is gorgeous, a rarity for Gotham, and so Bruce throws an extended family barbecue. 'Family' has always been a little tough to define, for Tim and for many others who share the Wayne name. Some - Dick, Jason, Damian, Cass - feel as though they could be his blood siblings, like they share more than a name and a vigilante identity and a proclivity for violence. Duke, Kon, and Jon have somehow become his annoying cousins who say, let me play the games on your phone, Tim, I know you get the unreleased ones, don't lie, but he loves them all the same.

It's when he sees you talking to Steph, the distant ex who he now considers one of his closest friends, that the depth of his feelings really hits him. You're in a swimsuit - he shouldn't stare, he shouldn't, it's summer and it's hot and it's perfectly normal for you to want to enjoy the pool while you're at the manor - with a cocktail in hand, golden sun catching in your hair, a warm smile lighting up your features, eyes crinkled up at the corners with laughter. Maybe Steph is telling an anecdote about the family; perhaps you're just enjoying this perfect day.

A giggle spills from your lips, shiny with the cherry-flavoured lip balm he knows you use, right as your gaze wanders across the pool and meets Tim's own. Although he's quick to react, transforming his face into a friendly smile and giving you a small wave, he has to fight back a blush from the shame of almost being caught staring. He isn't a creep. He isn't.

"Tim!", you exclaim, as he crosses around the pool and makes his way over to you and Steph. "I didn't know you could even come out in the sun! I hope you're wearing sunscreen."

Steph smirks. "You're all... milky. How long has it been since you left your computer screen?'

Tim feels your eyes drag down over his body, probably only because Steph's just pointed out how pale he is, but he's in a swimsuit too and he can feel your gaze burning hot on every inch of exposed skin. He huffs out a sarcastic laugh. "Funny, both of you. Duke attacked me with a bottle of SPF twenty minutes ago."

You and Steph dissolve into another fit of laughter: clearly the image of his assault is amusing to you. Tim would pretend to be more annoyed than he really is, maybe play it up a little to make you both feel bad, but he knows that you're only in a good mood. Why wouldn't you be? This is the first day you've had fully to yourself in weeks - he makes a point to stay updated on your activities, but he's not a creep, it's normal to take an interest - between your schoolwork and your internship. The hard work has paid off, though, and you've just graduated at the top of your class with a path straight into a major company. He can cut you some slack for now.

"Do either of you two know where I can find Damian?", Steph pipes up suddenly after a sip of her own drink. "I've gotta talk to him."

Tim exaggerates a disgusted tremble, which only earns him a playful slap from Steph and another little giggle from you. "Poor you. He's probably walking the dogs on the other side of the garden, or something - antisocial little shit."

"Damian, antisocial? I haven't heard from you in almost three weeks, Timothy Drake! You hypocrite!", Steph cries. Three weeks? He could've sworn it was only a week ago, at most; he FaceTimed her for a catch up, and she was talking about her crush on Kon's dad, and he'd explained he'd been busy because he'd been helping you write your thesis - but, wait, it hadn't even been the final section, so it must have been longer ago than he thought, because you submitted your final draft five days ago - shit.

Tim sighs. "Sorry, Steph. Actually, sorry to both of you. I... lost track of time, I guess?"

"I'll let you off this time, Drake-", Steph narrows her eyes at him, and tips back the last of her cocktail. "But you better repay me by having another drink ready for me when I come back."

She grins widely, and heads off to find Damian: God knows why she wants to talk to him when he's being so antisocial, but she's always had a way of drawing the young boy out of his shell. Tim chuckles under his breath, and turns to smile sheepishly at you.

"And you? What do I have to do to make you forgive me?", he offers. He's half-teasing, but there's a part of him that feels guilty. It's selfish. He knows it is; he's the one who finds himself wanting to spend so much time with you, not the other way around, and he sees you more than enough. You probably haven't even realised it's been four days since you last spoke to him.

You swirl the last dregs of your drinks thoughtfully, smiling at him - God, your smile is perfect, so soft and warm and kind - and then reach out to pat him on the shoulder. "I think I'm the one who owes you, you know."

Your touch lingers for just a fraction of a second and Tim is forced to suppress a shiver. "Meaning?'

"You've spent most of your free time for months helping me with schoolwork, Timmy! There's no way I would've been able to - actually, no, I would have managed fine without help - but you made it so much easier. I wish I could do more to thank you."

Tim waves away your gratitude with a small smile. "You've done plenty - besides, I enjoyed helping you."

"Why?", you grin, and the previous playfulness you'd exhibited with Steph is beginning to spark back up in your eyes. "Because my area of study interests you so much? Or is it just because I'm your favourite person?'

There are a million ways he could play this. This stupid, summer crush has been eating at him for weeks now, and Tim knows all too well that he's bad with emotions. He has no idea which course of action he should choose: flirt, or tease, or act aloof? Dick would dazzle you with a charming grin and a compliment - Jason would make a ridiculous, suggestive joke that somehow would be flirty instead of creepy - Damian (and Tim feels indescribable shame at the fact that his younger brother would be better at this than him) would brush the teasing off in a way that only drew you in.

"...Spending time with you isn't the worst thing in the world.", Tim settles on, and he mentally kicks himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. God, he isn't a creep, but he's stupid. So stupid. Almost as stupid as he is for developing a crush in the first place.

By some saving grace, your smile only widens. "So I am your favourite person?'

He needs another drink.

"You're in danger of losing that title.", he shrugs, and begins to head for the drinks table that Alfred so thoughtfully set up - you follow without question. "But, well, I wouldn't have spent all that time with you if, you know, I didn't like you. It was actually... kind of fun."

You fix yourself your own cocktail at the same time as him. It must be your favourite, since it's the same as the last one you were drinking, and Tim has to remind himself again that he's not a creep as he wonders how it would feel to kiss the taste of sweet alcohol off your lips. It's just a crush. He's going to get over it.

"Aww - I knew you loved me! Seriously, though - I did really enjoy spending that time with you. Even if you did spend half of it vibrating from caffeine overload, and the other half shouting at me for drinking caffeine myself.", you say.

He shrugs. "It's bad for you." Hypocrisy normally gets to Tim, but he can excuse the bad habit for himself. He can't help but worry about you.

The words that spill from your fruit-stained lips in response - teasing, as always, no more than that, stop it - and the glint in your eye and the little quirk of your mouth upwards; something about it just feels different and it makes his stomach lurch. "You're a bad influence, Timmy. I like it."

Fuck. He sips at his drink, too much vodka for his liking and too little ice, but oh well: he's got bigger things to worry about, like hiding how thickly he swallows. Like pretending he doesn't notice the faint sheen of sweat coating your collarbones, and the dip of your throat, spreading across your shoulders and down, down, dipping to your stomach - he pretends he doesn't notice. It's hot. You're warm. And a bit of sweat shouldn't get to him as much as it does.

"Every person here is a bad influence. You asked me for help, anyway. I'm starting to regret doing it.". That's a blatant lie and you both know it, but Tim doesn't know quite how to react other than with sarcasm. He feels like he's dancing with you every time he speaks to you, skating on paper-thin ice but loving the thrill - don't be so fucking dramatic, it's just a crush, stop it.

You roll your eyes and place your glass down onto the table. "I'm sorry. You're a fantastic influence, and you've made the last few months far more bearable. Thank you. I mean it."

And then you bring one hand to his shoulder, a feather-light touch that still sends him practically careening into ecstasy, and before Tim quite realises what's happening, you're pressing a friendly kiss to his left cheek.

You pull back with a smile. "I'll stop giving you shit for today, but only because I'm so grateful."

You just fucking kissed him. You were barely an inch away from his lips, close enough that he could almost smell your drink on your lips, and it was only a friendly gesture and he knows you do it with everyone and he knows it doesn't mean anything, to you, at least - but, to Tim, you've just punched right through his chest and grabbed his heart and squeezed, tight, snatched the breath right from his lungs and all rational thought from his brain; he wants, so badly, to lean forward and kiss you for real this time. He would, if he had the courage. He would, if he knew you felt the same way.

This is more than a stupid, summer crush.

Tim wants you to kiss him again. He wants to take your hand and parade you around the barbecue on his arm. He would lick the sweat off your fucking collarbones, if you would only let him. Maybe he is a creep. He doesn't care anymore.

Another sip of his drink. He's so fucked.

You don't notice the way his jaw tenses, or the way his breathing quickens; why would you? You're not looking for any kind of reaction, because, for you, it was just a kiss on the cheek, nothing more, nothing worthy of a revelation of his feelings.

"Oh, Tim - look, Kon's coming over!", you nudge him with your elbow, drink back in hand. Tim's too shellshocked to do anything other than follow your gaze, right over to where Kon's walking over to the two of you. He must have been in the pool with Jon and Dick, because his hair is wet and rivulets of water are running down his chest - Tim doesn't think he'll ever really get used to his best friend being so absolutely ripped. He hates it.

Kon fixes you with a beaming grin. "Hey, guys! What's with all the drinking? I though barbecues were for having fun and eating, not an alcohol club."

Tim forces a smirk: Kon will see right through him if he isn't careful, figure out what’s going on. The smile on your face, though, is wide and genuine, almost as big as Kon's.

"Says Aquaman over here.", you giggle. Kon shakes his head, flicking water at you, and you squeal and dash behind Tim.

Droplets of pool water land on Tim's face, filling his nose with the scent of chlorine instead of the scent of your drink, and he mourns the loss. "Careful, Kon. Chlorine can burn our skin right off. You wouldn't want to hurt us, right?"

The other male's eyes widen comically, and he mouths a seriously at Tim, concern evident in his gaze. Having a half-alien best friend has its drawbacks, but it's worth it for the tricks Tim gets to play.

You peek over Tim's shoulder and, upon determining that the coast is clear, step out and pout at him. "Don't tease - Kon, don't listen. He's stringing you along."

Tim scowls at you. "Fuck - you couldn't have played along for a few minutes? Seriously?"

Kon lets out a hearty chuckle, and out of nowhere he reaches his hand out towards you - for a moment, Tim just stares at it, wondering why his best friend is offering his hand to you. Then, you take it, that soft smile on your face, and Kon's pulling you into his chest and you're squeezing his hand and he's kissing you gently on the forehead.

"I knew I could rely on you.", Kon smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. The penny begins to drop for Tim, but it's as if it's in slow motion - he sees the grand reveal coming, but he it doesn't quite sink in just yet.

You turn back to face Tim, keeping your fingers interlaced with Kon's so his arm wraps around your body and settles on your waist, pressing you into his side. "I - uh, sorry, Tim. Kon's still... getting the hang of how much PDA is acceptable."

Oh. Tim should have seen this coming. He should have noticed the signs; they all spring up in his mind now, the way Kon only ever seemed to blush around you, and the way Tim's noticed you checking Kon out during training a few times (he'd not thought much of it, you'd be blind not to), and the way both of you have been so suspiciously quiet about your love lives lately - maybe to protect his feelings, to make him feel like he's not the odd-one-out of the group, to avoid excluding him.

"It's fine,", he lies. "But, well - PDA? I didn't realise you two were... close like that."

Why is he torturing himself by asking for details?

You offer him an apologetic look. "I know you've been really busy, lately - you know, with work, and stuff. I thought it would be best to hold off on telling you about anything going on until you had less on your plate."

You don't say it with pity, like you know that he's been harbouring feelings for you: no, it's just friendly concern, knowing that he would want to know about your new crush and help you navigate it, because Tim is shit with his own feelings but he's got a penchant for helping others with their own.

"Thanks for being considerate. I wouldn't have minded helping you, you know.", Tim says. Another lie. It would have absolutely fucking killed him to help you, but at least he would have seen this coming. At least he could have prepared.

Kon squeezes you into his side, and then releases you so he can pour himself a drink. His bright blue eyes, kind and piercing, prompt Tim to speak again. "And, Kon - come on, buddy. Why didn't you say anything to me?"

Kon chuckles warmly. "I guess I didn't really realise what I was feeling, you know? I mean, I knew that it was different, but I didn't exactly know what it meant... or how to explain it."

Another piece of the puzzle falls into place. There's a domino effect in Tim's mind and right now he hates how intelligent he is, wishes he could turn it off for a second if only so that he would stop making deductions about this relationship that's sprung up right under his nose.

"You made the first move, then?", he asks, directed at you, and he can feel his smile starting to slip. There are beads of water on your waist in the wake of Kon's touch.

You let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh - Kon returns to your side, not touching you this time, but still standing in a way that makes it seem as though he's protecting you. "You could put it that way. I mean, nothing's official yet - no one even knows other than you and Steph and Jon, we're still figuring it out. We don't wanna make a big deal, you know?'

Tim doesn't know. He nods anyway. "I'm happy for you both."

The smile on his lips - vodka, ice, fruit - falters just a little too much and he knows Kon notices it. Bright blue eyes soften in worry, his mouth moves to ask if Tim's alright, but Tim just glances back at you; small smile on your lips, golden sun in your hair, happy.

"I'll have to go make sure that Bruce and Jason aren't in danger of blowing us all up in a gas explosion. I'll catch up with you two after.", Tim says, just before Kon can get any words out. He gestures aimlessly in the direction of the barbecue, and you and Kon nod in unison - together, a couple - and Tim throws back the last of his drink before he leaves.

He should be happy for you - he is, in a way, glad that Kon's found someone he can be vulnerable with and you've found someone who makes you happy. He should have been more convincing - he doesn't want either of you to worry. He should have seen this coming. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should never have let himself start feeling anything for you in the first place.

Maybe, Tim thinks as he heads into the cool air of the manor and slips into a quiet room, closing the door behind him - maybe, if you hadn't have kissed him on the cheek, it would've been easier. He could've kept telling himself that this was just a stupid, summer crush, and it would've went away by the time the first snow fell in Gotham, and if worst came to worst he could've called Steph and distracted himself for a few nights. The thought of that, of touching anyone else, makes him feel sick now.

Tim runs his hands through his hair and tugs desperately at the ends. He has no idea how he's meant to come back out to the barbecue, watch Kon kiss the taste of sweet alcohol off your lips, think about Kon's hands on your body - he can't do this. He can't.

[pangtasias-atelier]

A Feast of Heroes

Titile taken from the CYL “Hear From the Heroes” with Claude. 

This is also a really late birthday gift to @stuffedtight ... Hope you enjoy it despite the lateness,,,

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Claude lets out a frown as he touches the slight expanse of his tummy. His body jiggles as his wyvern continues to fly. Unused to the extra bit of weight, always thin, the sensation of his body jiggling is foreign to him. Grimacing, Claude keeps a tight grip on the reins as he glances down. A slight bit of heft to his stomach, his hand pushes the pudge down with some extra pressure. His wyvern as trustworthy as ever, Claude disobeys any sense of safety as he feels himself all over. His roaming hands grope his arms, his powerful biceps from drawing his bow now sporting a heaping of fat to encase them. Still able to feel his muscles, he mostly gets fat. However, his overly poofy sleeves cover up the pudge on his arms. Pressing a hand to his chest, the same issue occurs. His hand feels the fat. His respectably broad chest no longer defined, a generous portion of flab makes its home there. Two budding moobs resting there now, they jiggle during the flight, Claude cursing to himself. Resting a hand on his thigh, the expansive body part has a lot more surface area now, his hand no longer taking up most of the space. Claude ignores the way his thighs squish further into his wyvern. Sitting on his rump, Claude gives it a slight poke, but not before checking for any other possible flyers that might spot him. His butt rounder than before, it is affected by his weight gain just as the rest of his body. It shakes under his prodding poke. Groaning to himself, Claude shifts his hand to his stomach. His belt is still tied around him, but it's a bit looser. The once flat stomach suffering the most from his extra poundage, his flab protrudes outward. Sporting extra curves, a budding love handle and a sagging gut the two most prominent ones, Claude rests a hand under his tummy. He clears his throat as he finds himself able to lift his stomach, unable to ever do so before from having a thin body. No mirror around, Claude doesn’t try to think about how round his face is.

“Maybe building trust isn’t worth my waistline…” Claude comments with a sigh. So dead set on testing the trustworthiness of other summoned heroes, he had paid zero attention to his growing waistline. Good wine, good food, good company, the enjoyment of a feast was too tempting of an offer to pass up, even with him being the one to offer.

Struggling a bit with his clothes earlier in the day, Claude had begun to run late for his meet up with the summoner. A myriad of heroes in the order, Claude found none of them to be as mysterious as Kiran, Kiran hailing from an entirely different world. While Claude scoffed at the notion of placing immediate trust in someone, Kiran simply rebutted. Doing some digging, Claude had been unable to find a sliver of a trace, even Prince Alphonse or Princess Sharena unable to provide much information. Commander Anna was the same, the only information she was able to give being that she had brought Kiran to Askr with Briedablik, Briedablik choosing Kiran. Said info over a good meal yesterday, Claude sighs as he rests a hand on his gut. It grumbles from the touch, already hungry despite the early morning.

Claude breaks out of his thoughts as his wyvern screeches at him, his wyvern spotting a clearing in the garden. Immediately landing, the landing is perfect, his wyvern stopping at just the right time despite diving down. Stepping off, Claude gives his wyvern a pat on the head. His wyvern leans into the embrace before complaining, tired from the extra weight of its passenger. “Sorry about that pal,” Giving another pat, he heads off.

Kiran seated on a bench, they leave a bookmark before closing their book. Resting the heavy item in their lap, they have a smile plastered on their face as they glance up at Claude. “Right on time,”

“On time for what?” Claude scratches the back of his head. Normally unwilling to meet with someone without confirming what the plan was, Kiran had left before Claude could say something. And while Kiran hardly acted like a superior, Kiran kind and understanding with each and every hero, Claude wasn’t ready to cause any issues with Kiran. Simply wishing to spend time with Kiran is only secondary to his reason.

“Just breakfast,” Kiran replies, standing up from the bench with a spring in their step. “You were going on last week about how feasts help with getting to know others,” Kiran smiles, a grin worming their way onto their face.

“Yes, it helps-”

“And you’ve been building a lot of trust lately,” Kiran rests a hand on Claude’s stomach. The bit of flab caves in on his touch, his stomach squishing under the warmth of Kiran’s hand. Claude fights back a blush. “I might have. All in good reasoning though,” Claude shifts  a bit, pulling the collar line of his vest. “But yeah, there’s just so many heroes with interesting tales. Like that mercenary, Gerik. He sure can put it all away too,” Kiran’s hand still on his tum, Claude forcibly tries to not think about it, instead staring at Kiran’s smug face.

“Not as much as you, I bet,” A hand drifting up, they latch onto Claude’s arms and squeeze them. “Your outfit can’t hide as much as you think,”

Claude clears his throat, smiling at Kiran as they stare at his face. Kiran’s eyes entranced, Claude tries to not think about how Kiran must be staring at the extra roundness of his face, or his slight double chin. Taking a deep breath, his slightly distended gut filling with air, Claude grins to himself, deflecting always a good tactic.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you might actually be enjoying my size," Claude's eyes momentarily widen, realizing his blunder for admitting to his extra heft. Though the error is gone in an instant, Claude's grin drawn back on. "Not that I've gained any weight, mind you,"

Kiran simply nods at Claude, their eyes seemingly shining. "I have no shame in preferring men with some meat them," Kiran grabs Claude’s hand, the warm round digits holding onto their fingers. "So, why don't we have a feast? You feast, I watch. And maybe you'll get to learn a few things about me," Grinning at Claude, Kiran holds back a budding purr as Claude simply blinks at them.

“You… do? Hypothetically, of course,”

“Maybe I do.” Claude’s hand still in their own, Kiran leads the way. “Have a feast with me and maybe you’ll find out,” Kiran jokes. They laugh as Claude hums, Claude following along without a complaint.

[cordria]

End of the Year Roundup

Saw this post that was full of questions about the year. Thought I’d answer some of them. I was going to just write stuff about how my year went, but ended up staring blankly at the screen and doing nothing. Also, all I could think of was negative stuff, which isn’t the best way to handle a year-end roundup.

Click ‘read more’ if you’d like to read my thoughts.

1. what did you learn about yourself this year? 

I’m actually not hating teaching online as much as I thought I would. It’s incredibly stressful - but mostly because I’m teaching kids that don’t want to be online students and don’t even attempt to do the stuff, and so I’m moving like snails through the content and I’m bored out of my mind, and I can’t do most of the stuff I want to do because a large percentage of the kids won’t get anything out of it. If I only had kids that were motivated to learn through an online platform? Could be interesting. I’m contemplating that (perhaps) being my next job. I’m already pretty set on this current job drawing to a close at the end of the school year. 

2. best moment of the year?

When my four-year-old stumbled up the stairs, crying, telling me she needed to be tested.

“For what?”

“The Covid,” she said, sobbing and trying to crawl into my arms.

“Why?”

“My foot hurts.” She showed me her foot. (no noticeable injuries)

“Why?” 

“I stepped on a Lego.”

Cue laughter.

3. worst moment of the year?

It’s too hard to pick. I’d pick one of my panic attacks, I’m sure, but I can’t decide which was the worst.

4. what was the biggest change you experienced this year?

My whole world is tipped upside down. We don’t see anyone. We don’t do much fun right now. My husband is a stay-at-home dad so the kids don’t have to go to daycare. I’m teaching unresponsive icons on a screen. 

... What hasn’t changed this year?

(Skip a few)

7. what’s one thing that happened this year that you want to change?

I stopped writing. Like, completely. 

I got soooo far down the bad mental health rabbit hole that I stopped writing. 

I want to write again. Right now I’m still in a bad place, and so writing is a chore. But I know if I can get going again, it’ll get better.

(Skip a few)

11. what made you cry the most this year?

I need to cry more. My emotions are sorta broken right now and I don’t cry anymore.

12. biggest regret of the year?

I don’t want to call it a ‘regret’. There’s lots I wish I’d done differently, lots I wish I’d accomplished and gotten done and succeeded at. But that’s with hindsight. I don’t want to call it a regret and beat myself up over the things I didn’t do. 

I just want to walk forwards and try again.

(Skip a few - I certainly didn’t go anywhere this year)

18. what surprised you the most this year?

Everything my one-year-old has done this year. He’s so very different from how much daughter grew, and it’s fascinating to watch.

19. do you look different from the beginning of the year?

lmao. I was just post-pregnancy and still on maternity leave at the beginning of the year. Yes. I look different. I also desperately need a haircut.

20. how did this year treat you in general?

I want to say, “Not the best, most wonderful year I’ve had”, but, honestly, it’s more the last part of the year is coloring over the rest. 

Winter (January - March 14th): Stressful, as winter always is, getting students to be engaged when I’m just coming back from leave and have a young infant at home, and everybody is full of cabin fever. But it’s just a normal-ish amount of stress, and I got to snuggle a baby every day.

Spring (March 14th - May): A very odd way of living, with asynchronous teaching. But I honestly found it enjoyable and slightly boring. I got to work in my garden and play with my kids (like an extended, paid-for maternity leave, since daycare closed), and I could mitigate how much staring at the computer I did at any given time, and I could go for walks. 

Summer (June - August): Got lots of writing and drawing done. Worked in my garden a lot. Taught my daughter how to ride a bike and roller skate. Went on lots of walks while baby napped in the stroller. Lots of art projects with kids.

Fall (September - December): Hell came knocking and never left.

21. what message would you give yourself at the beginning of the year?

With 2021 vision, I’d tell myself to enjoy the first part of the year when you could, and try not to take things that happen in September and October quite so personally. And take more days off. Why did I not take more days off???

22. has your fashion style changed this year?

I have one very (old) comfy pair of jeans I’ve worn just about every day. Nobody sees me from the waist down anyways. They’re full of holes and I’d never get away with wearing them normally. But they’re as comfy as pajama pants and you can pry them out of my cold dead hands. I also get to wear sandals at work every day. :)

23. one of the best meals you’ve had this year?

Hubby got us an immersion cooker for Christmas. We splurged on fresh shrimp last night, and honestly? I like the immersion cooker. Yum.

24. who has made the biggest impact in your life this year?

My kids. For sure. 

If this had happened without kids in my life, I’d’ve spent the last four months being suicidal. I’m not sure I’d’ve made it to this point, honestly.

I’m not sure why the thought never crossed my mind - I’ve been suicidal under much, much less stress - but I’m blaming my kids for it. Deep down in the lizard part of my brain, I can’t even contemplating leaving two young kids like that, and so it just wasn’t an option that came up in my mind.

25. what’s one thing that you hope will continue next year? 

I’m going to take this as resolutions. What do you have going that you want to continue?

- I’m on day two of a sugar-free ‘cleanse’. I hate calling it a cleanse, because people put thoughts on that word, but it’s really just me focusing on eating nothing but healthy food for two weeks - no candy or treats. I ate too much sugary treats over the holidays, and I’m feeling it. I want to continue to eat healthy next year.

- I’ve been writing the last week or so. You’ve seen some of the results here. I’ve thought about writing. I’m picking at something that I’m going to submit to an anthology. I want to continue writing (and drawing) next year. 

- Writing will require working on my mental health. I’m on a good trend, but that is because I haven’t worked in about two weeks. I need to come up with a realistic healthy way of life when school starts again. I’m not sure what that will be, but I have until Monday to come up with some sort of plan to try. I want to spend at least an hour each day focusing on mentally-healthy tasks. (exercise, meditation, yoga, self-care, etc)

These are pretty bland, open goals. I’ll need to work on setting some more specific tasks - otherwise I’ll never do them - but it’s a start.

I desperately want 2021 to go better than the last bit of 2020 went. 

Peace! :)

[gale-dragon-writer]

Dupain-Cheng Twins: Mari & Max A/U Moments. The Comment that Lila Shouldn't have Heard.

(Note, Lila doen’t know and hasn’t been told that Marinette and Max are bio-twins)

Alix, Kim, Nino, and the Dupain-Cheng Twins decided to spend have a little picnic together at the Paris Botanical Gardens this Saturday like they use to when they were little. They planned this a week in advance and made sure that each of their families knew about this outing. Nino had a little problem with letting Alya know that he couldn’t go on any dates this Saturday but promised to make it up to her the next day.

“Sometimes, I think Alya has selective hearing,” Alix commented when Nino told them that what he had to go through to make sure he had today free.

That was when Kim added, “Yeah, you sure can pick 'em, right Nino,” as he nudged the red capped teen next to him. Causing Marinette to giggle and Max to roll his eyes in amusement.

The older Dupain-Cheng Twin happily carried a decent sized picnic basket as the younger carried the oversized blanket. Nino brought the music with his mp3 and wireless speakers. Alix brought all the drinks in a decent sized cooler. Kim brought the butterfly lures for them to use to attract the butterflies that called the botanical gardens their home. When they arrived they paid the entrance fee for their group, after the staff made sure that the lures were safe, and they got their stamps to prove that they paid the fee, entered without a problem. They were just happy to be away from the drama of school and enjoy the peaceful scenery.

They found their usual spot away that they’ve always used for their little gatherings. It was a little off from the main path but it had a few security cameras to ensure that the plant and critter lives remain undisturbed. Once they arrived, they started setting up their picnic. “Hey sis, can you help with the blanket?” Max asked his older twin sister as he and Kim tried to open the oversized blanket while trying to prevent it from overlapping. Marinette happily nodded as she help the two out as Nino and Alix set the wireless speaker up and making sure the connection between it and the mp3 was in place.

}i{

Meanwhile...

Long story short, Alya called Lila to talk to someone about why Nino wanted this Saturday off from basically everyone. The liar could practically smell the opportunity to use this to paint Marinette in a bad light, but for that, she needed to make sure that either Nino and Marinette had no one to back their stories. So she followed (stalked) Nino as he met up with Kim, then Alix with a cooler, and then Marinette and Max with a basket and blanket. That did kill any idea of telling Alya that Marinette was flirtig with Nino since there were three witnesses that could immediately disprove her story. But...

‘What the? Why the hell are those losers up to?’ Lila thought as she now stalked the group of childhood friends and followed them to the Paris Botanical Gardens. The liar watched them enter the gardens and waited a minute before she tried to enter the arboretum.

“Excuse me miss, but there’s a small fee to pay before you can enter,” one of  the employee manning the entryway. The employee then tapped on the sign that showed the entry fees for each person. They were pretty decent prices, but there was a rather large compensation fee for littering and destroying the plant life inside.

But Lila thought it was stupid to pay to get into something as worthless as a garden, so she started crying about how she lost her grandmother’s ring inside when she came earlier in the day and wanted to find it as soon as possible. She was hoping that if she stir up a big fuss, they’ll let her in for free. But that didn’t happen, the staff pointed out the biggest flaw in her lie and proving that she wasn’t in the arboretum earlier. Lila didn’t have the stamp on her hand for today. When the liar tried to tell the employee that she washed it off by accident, the employee counter with the fact that there still would’ve been ink from the stamp staining her skin.

Noticing that the people around were starting to whisper and glare at her, Lila frowned and practically threw the money at the employee and stormed into the  arboretum. “Hey! You forgot your stamp!” the employee shouted at the brunette, but sighed and made a call on the employee walky-talkies giving Lila’s description and telling them that she paid the fee but didn’t stay for the stamp. That was moreso to avoid more drama from the teen than anything else. The employee then made a note to talk to the manager about the girl so they can post her picture at the entrance booths so they can be given the heads up about her if she tries that stunt again.

Lila just wanted to know what the group was doing and could hopefully use something to turn the tides of the class in her favor.

}i{

Kim carefully set the lures up, making sure that they wouldn’t spill and were a bit away from the picnic so that they weren’t knocked over by accident.

Once Kim re-joined the group on the blanket to start their picnic. They each took a bottle of their favorite drinks out of the cooler and then took some food from the basket. Alix took a sip from her drink when she said with a massive grin on her face, “You guys remember when we had Twin Day with a sub and he didn’t know that Mari and Max were twins?”

Nino laughed when he said, “Sure do dudette.”

Kim followed up with a, “Heck yeah! Dude paired them up and told them that they needed to try to be like twins! Aw man! I wish I could’ve taken a picture of his face when he found out the truth!” Then burst in laughter. Causing Alix to laugh. Marinette and Max glanced at each other before they joined in on the laughter. 

}i{

It took 15 minutes for Lila to find the group, their laughter gave them away. ‘A picnic?’ Lila thought in confusion as she hid behind some bushes at watch the group. She couldn’t hear what the group was saying from where she was, so she crept closer, trying to keep out of sight.

“I was so proud of the outfits I made for the day too,” Lila heard Marinette say happily. The liar rolled her eyes at the comment, not caring about that.

“As was I, it made the whole thing even better,” Max added as Lila saw him adjust his glasses. The group agreed and then laughed again. Lila rolled her eyes in annocance.

That was when Kim asked, “Speaking of outfits, hows that new one coming along, Mari?”

‘Oh?’ Lila thought, wondering if this could be something that she can sabotage or steal to claim as her own. If Lila could steal the sketchbook with the design in them and present them to Gabriel, telling them that she made them, she’ll practically marry Adrien. ‘At least if those designs are that good,’ Lila thought as she continued to watch the group.

Marinette smiled when she said, “It’s coming along nicely, but...” She then pulled out her sketchbook and added as she looked over the sketch, “I’m a little worried about how low the v-neck is... If it’s too high, then it ruins the appel I’m going for. But if it’s too low then... Well, you know.”

Kim playfully poked Marinette in the arm when he asked in a humorous tone, “You sure you can handle a low v-neck without becoming a blushing mess?” Marinette proceeded to whacking the taller teen over the head with the butt of her sketchbook. “Owch!” I was joking!” Kim exclaimed as he rubbed the new bump on his head.

Nino chuckled when he said, “Dude, you should know by now that you shouldn’t mess with Mari and her designs.” Kim grumbled something under his breath as he continued to rub the bump.

Max looked over Mari’s sketch before he commented, “If you’re using your own measurments, then *takes the pencel from Mari’s hand and starts drawing on the sketchbook*, you should start the v-neck here and end it here. That way you’re not showing too much while complementing your figure. There we go.” The group then looked over the modified sketch.

“Oh wow! It looks a lot better now,” Marinette said with a smile, before turning to her brother and adding, “Thanks Max.”

That was when Alix looked at Max when she asked, “How do you know Mari’s measuments off the top of your head?”

“He sometimes helps me with some of my designs,” Marinette started, then Max finished with, “Usually to make sure she finishes within a reasonable timeframe. I mostly help when it’s clothing that she’s making for herself, so that’s how I know.”

‘Huh? What’s geek-boy talking about?’ Lila thought with a raised brow. She then thought, ‘It sounds like he’s over at Maribrat’s house a lot if he helps her with making her designs... Interesting.”

Nino then said, “Oh yeah, that’s right. I keep forgeting that.”

“No big,” Kim said with a wave before he added, “Besides, Max is the best when it comes to numbers.”

Max pushed his glasses up when he said, “True, but there’s nothing about Marinette I haven’t already seen,” as he cased a sideways glance at Mari with a sheepish look.

‘Hello!’ Lila thought as her eyes lit up with joy. ‘Maribrat’s been... With Geek-boy! No way! But Oh~, this is gold!’ the liar thought with glee as she quickly and quietly crept away so she can weave some very nasty lies that will certainly cast the budding designer in a bad light, especially with Adrien and the rest of the school. ‘Maybe it was worth paying that stupid entrance fee after all,’ Lila thought as she practically skipped out of the gardens.

Too bad she left before she could hear,

“Max, we use to take baths together when we were little, so of course, you’d know. Besides, that means there’s nothing I haven’t seen about you too, my dorky little twin brother.” Marinette said as he playfully elbowed Max in the arm.

The bi-special boy smiled when he replied, “And you’re my over-achiving older twin sister.”

Alix pretened to gag when she said, “You two are just sickening cute with that banter.” Which caused Nino and Kim to laugh.

“Maybe we should bring Markov with us next picnic outing, I’m sure he’ll learn a lot,” Marinette told Max, who nodded with a big smile.

}i{ Until Next Time }i{

@princess-of-the-corner

@agent-numbuh-227

[ingek73]

1/2

The Royal KAREN Has Come Out To Play

By Irene May 28, 2020

Samir Hussein/Getty Images

The Royal KAREN Has Come Out To Play.

It’s silly season for Karens the world over. For some reason, they are everywhere. Not a day passes without some account of an entitled white woman exhibiting peak privilege, by making their own choices and then playing victim and acting a complete fool, when it doesn’t go to plan. When in full Karen mode, they are an outright danger to whoever is in their path.

They will cough or spit in your face with the hopes that you catch a virus that they may knowingly or unknowingly be carrying because, they say it’s their right to not wear a mask and you questioned it. They will call the police and put on a dramatic act to feign danger or a threat because, they expect that when the police show up, your life can literally be taken from you. They will make a huge song and dance about why your success is not worthy or deserved because, their own lives suck and they wish they were in your position.

As if we didn’t already have enough to deal with, a royal Karen said hold my coatdress. She called her royal media police, to do a number on a lady who is minding her own business, probably enjoying some avocado toast by the pool on a sunny California day. She did that because, she expects the “police” to take her side. I for one am tired of this constant scapegoating and am having no parts of this latest royal propaganda lynch mob.

Kate Middleton feels exhausted

Kate Middleton blames Meghan

Catherine The Great cover

Karen is KEEN to be ‘KWEEEN’

She wants the moon. Once upon a time, a young lady grew up in an upper- middle class family. She was fortunate to be enrolled in private school, where it is reported that, in her teen years she had a poster of a certain young prince on her wall. Harmless teenage fantasy right? What young lady doesn’t have a poster of a guy she admired? After her A-levels, this lady reportedly got admission into her dream university(Edinburgh). Around that time, it was announced that the prince she likely admired was to attend St. Andrews University, after he has taken a gap year . For reasons that still remain unclear, the young lady made an about turn, and rejected her already confirmed place at her dream university. She decided to take a gap year and apply to St. Andrews University.

Kate turned down dream college to chase William

Kate attends same college as William

It was described as a gamble, as St. Andrews had become very competitive once it was known that the young prince would be attending there. Also, the young lady wanted to be an art history major and Edinburgh’s art history program was said to be among the best in Britain.

Kate's decistion to decline admission

Kate chases William

Whether by a stroke of luck or fate, the young lady got into St. Andrews University, where she went on to become friends with said prince. The subsequently embarked on an almost decade long courtship, including a short period of separation. She was bestowed a nickname on account of the perception that, she had waited for a long while and had yet to be rewarded with the much coveted royal engagement. Wasn’t that cold, considering that after Uni, she literally put her career on hold to be available to the prince at a moment’s notice? But all is well that end well. The waiting paid off. She and the prince became affianced and subsequently married. This put her squarely in the path to be future queen consort.

Waity Katy

Tatler shades Middleton family

Riding on their wave of pre and post nuptial publicity, the lady and the prince settled into a quiet life in the countryside. The now duchess did not assume full time royal duties because, her prince was holding a ‘regular’ job and not a full-time working royal himself. Their stint in the countryside was dotted with a handful of royal engagements here and a few tours there. She even got a new nickname, Duchess Doolittle. She and her prince were described as ‘work shy’ and were under pressure to step up to the plate.

workshy William

workshy Kate Middleton

workshy William and Kate

This was all BEFORE her brother-in-law, Prince Harry met and fell in love with his then girlfriend Meghan Markle. Karen was enjoying her cushy life, with all eyes on her. Then in rolls this strong, gorgeous, and accomplished woman on her brother-in-law’s arm. Their engagement and ensuing marriage captivates the attention of the world. Together, they are dynamite. The world and its media can’t get enough of them.

Karen is ANGRY

She wants the moon, with no stars in the sky. The newest Duchess was magnetic. She seemed to just naturally ease into her duties. She exuded warmth and had an easy and natural way with people , that endeared her to them. She took on her first foreign visit to Ireland like a duck to water. Wait, who is this girl and where is her learning curve? Its four months after she became a working royal and she already has a project ready to launch? Oh no, no, no! Karen is on a mission to save Britain’s kids at a yet to be decided date but, can we just tell everyone now? I’m working too you know.

Kate's broken Britain

Meghan launches cookbook

It’s now the autumn of 2018 and the world is watching a dynamic royal couple take Oceania by storm on a packed two and a half week tour. Thick crowds, meaningful engagements, funny, heartfelt and memorable moments, captivating speeches, showstopping fashion. It’s all a bit much for Karen, and this time Kevin, and they have taken notice. Something must be done. “Kenablers” in the Kingdom concur. Before the couple could wrap their tour, the palace all of a sudden developed a curious plumbing issue. Drip, drip, drip… “ Meghan made Kate Cry”, “Meghan was rude to Kate’s staff”, “Meghan was rude to Windsor castle staff”, “ Meghan wanted air fresheners in the church”, “ Meghan is demanding”. Thus begun an orchestrated campaign to dim the stars. It came thick and fast.

Meghan makes Kawte cry headline

smear article Meghan makes Kate cry

Kate attacks Meghan

Karen’s mother even tried throw some shade at Meghan in an interview saying, “royalty is not just about giving speeches”. Curiously though, Karen all of a sudden was delivering speeches at every turn. That is, provided she could flip the notecards quickly enough, to get to the next line. She even “designed” a garden and became a pro at climbing into tree houses and oscillating on rope swings. Every outfit change and accompanying smile became an engagement. There was even a groundbreaking log design. Whew! I tell you it’s the stuff of CEOs. Top notch executive stuff. Catapulting the British monarchy into modernity, one log at a time.

Kate's garden flower show

Harry and Meghan flower Chelsea flower show

The palace even prevented CAMFED from using pictures they took with Prince Harry the previous year. Why? It would be a tragedy if the future queen’s garden is overshadowed by Meghan. Note that, Harry and Meghan had no involvement with the CAMFED garden, and Meghan does not appear in the images in question. But that was the PR line. Meghan, who was home nursing her baby and editing British Vogue, was somehow threatening to overshadow Kate’s garden.

Through all of this, Kate’s pregnant and now post-partum sister-in-law was being raked over the coals. Mostly for things she supposedly did to Kate, or for being the source of a feud, for doing everything wrong that Kate did right and for supposedly causing war and drought among other things. Kate, despite being a self-proclaimed champion of new mothers bit her tongue and never once offered a word of support to her sister-in-law. The Kingdom was silent too.

As the year drew to a close and the Sussexes took a break from the royal Christmas to spend time in Canada, it was time for the K-team to reclaim the spotlight. At least that’s what the propaganda machine told us. It turns out that the spotlight is not just bright and shiny, it reveals things and “pigeons” like to keep things under wraps.

As it turned out, The Sussexes had decided that their family’s well-being was paramount and said, here is where we draw the line. We are out. What? What do you mean? Are we going to have to do more work? I don’t know Karen, you have the stage. For the time being, the ‘Kenablers’ told us that Karen was relieved now that Meghan had left. She now feels more relaxed that she doesn’t have to be compared to Meghan. Sure.

Kate's time to shine

Kate happy Meghan left

[fanfiction-inc]

Hand In Hand, Body Against Body, Soul Within Soul (Chapter III FINAL)

Title: Hand In Hand, Body Against Body, Soul Within Soul

Series: Welcoming The Bride

Verse: Far Cry 5

Characters/Pairings: Joseph Seed/ Reader, John Seed, Jacob Seed, Faith Seed

Rating: E for Explicit

Warnings:  Sex, Sexual Content, Praise Kink, Worship Kink, Breeding Kink, Joseph being a sweetheart, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex.

Word Count: 4001

Summary: The Father finally has someone to call his own, and he will make sure to show them just how much he loves them.

Link to Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995019/chapters/55549855

[First chapter]     [Previous Chapter]

He had the door open with the side of his body in moments, lips connecting once more with the woman's own in a heated moment of need. Polished leather kicks back the cedar door with a soft thud and arms aiding as he brings the woman down onto the full sized bed against the wall. His lips separate to look down at the other, reddened cheeks with smeared lipstick. A picture of perfection beneath his body. Oh how he adored his darling angel. Slowly lace covered arms trail up to rest around his neck, pulling the Fathers form closer to loom above her own. “Joseph-” He shushed her, fingers gently brushing along her cheek down to the sinful curve of her neck, tracing the way it dips down to her collarbones, tracing every line and curve that enticed him to fall within sin just for his angel...his only angel. “My darling child, my sweet caring angel, you know what I would prefer to hear from those darling lips of yours. So plump, so perfect. Say it like a prayer, my love.”

“Father.”

His eyes fluttered, such a term falling from those plump lips sending his body to shiver. Each nerve sings in such perfect delight, tongue wetting his lips and body pressing down against the woman's own. Slowly her legs wrapped around the others waist, the fabric of the wedding dress separating their bodies, far worse with his dress pants pressing against the tulle and ruffled dress bottom. A soft groan leaves his lips when he grins, but it’s no help to alleviate the tension pressing against the fly of his pants. “My angel speaks words as if they are the words of the lord speaking from above.” he brings her up to sit upon his lap, fingers numbly working at the zipper on the back of the others dress. Slowly he drags the metal bit down, lips moving from her jawline down to every inch of exposed skin he can reach. Each kiss is like a whisper, a promise for more and the woman resting on his lap could only wait with a shiver up her spine. The softest of nips are given to her collarbone, tongue lavishing the reddened mark before suckling an even darker mark on the woman's skin. The noise that flowed from her lips has him freezing, eyes closing as he savored the sweet whine that draws him closer and closer, grinding against her body further.

“Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." As stated by Peter. Love, my darling angel, is above any sin. It is above even the sin of lust and has been what I have clinged to so I may never take you before tonight.” His hands bring the layers of tulle and whitened fabric in a slow drag up along the woman’s thighs, fingers slowly easing to play at the soft flesh of the inner thigh. Her gasp has him smirking up, slowly easing himself down the bed until he’s off the edge and has her legs over his shoulders pushing the fabric up until it rests at her hips. She squirmed when his hot breath fanned over the thin fabric, soaked with her juices and ready to be lapped at. “The moment I laid eyes upon you, I wanted you. I wanted your mind, your soul…” He paused, delivering a kiss to her inner thigh. “Your body. The times I’ve held back...so many sermons that could have been interrupted. So many times when you look at me with those eyes.” He lets out a shaky breath when her gaze meets his own. “Those exact eyes.” Slowly Joseph kissed over her clothed mound, tongue brushing up over her covered folds and eliciting the sweetest of noises from her lips. “May I?” The softness of his voice, the way his eyes shift from the lust blown gaze to the sweetness that had drawn her into his life in the first place. “Yes, Father.”

His smile was sweet, fingers hooking in the waistband of her panties and bringing them off. They go over his shoulder, landing on the floor before he pulls the woman close. The first brush of his beard against her thigh left her shivering, the next getting the softest of moans and the third brushing near her rear when his tongue is darting out to go from her entrance to the bundle of nerves that needed his attention. The man ate her out like a man dying of thirst, tongue lapping at any trace of wetness leaving her before focusing on the bundle again. His eyes locked with her own during each brush of his tongue, the way her fingers tangled in his hair and nails scratched at his scalp eliciting a low moan. “The waters of the garden of Eden, my darling angel...You taste so wonderful.” He pulled away to kiss at her thighs, giving a moment of rest to the woman who looked on with desperation. “Father, please. I..I need you.”

“Patience, (First name). This will be a night to remember.” He whispered softly against her skin, giving the lightest of nips to her skin. Soon he’s trailing his kisses back to her core, taking the bundle back between his lips, and he gives in. He’s suckling and lavishing with his tongue, reciting every sermon he’s ever told to her with his sinful appendage before her back is starting to arch and she's nearly spilling onto his tongue. He pulled away, chuckling at the look of frustration in her gaze, savoring just how she gave a pleading whimper and how her lip trembled. “Joseph...I’m begging you.” His name caught him off guard, making him finally break down and give the woman just what she needed. Soon he was drinking her sweet waters of Eden, lavishing her core with licks and feeling each tremble of her thighs when she began to grow sensitive. She was panting, fingers tightly encasing his hair that fell loose from the band holding it back and the other clutching the sheet to near tathers. He pulled away, slick decorating his chin and beard, making the man look almost like the devil himself when he cleaned his lips of her juices. He eased back up, lips brushing against her own before allowing herself to taste just what he tasted. Each brush of his tongue against her own drew the most sinful of noises, his angel who fell and greeted him with open embrace into her world being a succubus in his arms. He needed her, but tonight wasn’t just about sex, it wasn’t just about carnel desires. The Father insisted on patience because any night he could fuck her from now on...But tonight was about learning, about making love.

The kiss was broken when his forehead moved to rest against her own, watching those delicate eyes flutter and shine brightly with a look he had grown accustomed to when he almost fell into sin. The very look that made him want to bend her over his podium and take her there before the church, for his followers to know just who she belonged to The Father was possessive to say the least, but his sweetness always had a way of hiding such. The times she spoke his name, his title...the times her lip trembled when he was too close to possibly bare and he couldn’t help but steal those lips in the sweetest senses of locks. Those eyes...dilated and still getting away from the clouded shades that fell over them when her orgasm had begun to recede...He couldn’t quite help himself anymore. “Allow me to rid you of the rest of your clothes, my angel.” He was blushing in the faintest of senses, already having drunk from her honey pot and seen exposed skin from her collarbone up, but he needed her laying before him exposed, he needed that body that he yearned for to be claimed as his own. The curt nod that followed led to a faint chuckle from his part, savoring the way she couldn’t quite speak up just yet. He is slow to pull the dress that had bunched at her waist down until it met the old wooden floors beneath the bed, the fabric landing with a quiet and dull thud. All that was left is the bra covering the peaks he wished to bury his face away in and suffocate from. The moment he has her back lifted and the garment off, his eyes take in everything that is now his. Every inch of exposed skin, every soft feature. Each divot, each blemish that had her skin seeming even more unique than anyone he has ever had beneath him. He can see her growing blush when his blue gaze landed on her features, see her thoughts begin and he knows he needs to silence them as quickly as possible. The moment her hands come up to cover what she deems as imperfections, his own are stopping them, kissing at her knuckles with a gentle gaze.

“There’s no need to be shy, my darling. You’re beautiful, a monument to be worshiped.” He accented each word with a peck to each individual knuckle, letting his hands bring her own to rest at the sides of her head. He keeps them pinned for a brief moment, smiles soft and sweet. “I want to remember every detail of your body, every inch, every crevice. Your body is the definition of heaven itself, my child. I believe I’ve found Eden’s Gate.”  His words make her shiver, blush spreading to her neck and tips of her eyes. The man spoke so sweetly and yet she had nothing to retort with since he was still fully clothed. His hands remove from her own to trail kisses along her skin, delivering special attention to her breast. He suckled and nipped, leaving the faintest of marks along the plump flesh before taking her rosy bud between his lips. The way his tongue lavished it and paid attention to how her body arched and pressed up as close to his own as possible, he knew he was doing this right. He knew he was learning how to play every string of her delicate body to bring her deeper into the pleasure only he could give. No one else could make her feel this way...At least that’s what Joseph reminded himself of. “J-Jo...Father...Please let me undress you..I want to see your body.” He paused when she choked out a soft “I want to see what is now mine”. He swallowed thickly, control faltering due to those simple eight words. Those eight words that made his heart hammer and pants scream to be removed. He moved to the end of the bed, standing before her off to the side and watching as she rose with grace. Neither of them were innocent with past touches, groping and feeling but never touching flesh they had so yearned for. He had his taste tonight, but she wanted her own.

Her fingers work numbly to remove his suit jacket, lips softly tracing his jaw and neck as she did such. The jacket falls to the floor, joining the dress that had been discarded from before. Each button was popped out of place, tedious in the work, but each kiss had the man's fist tightening at his side, restraining himself from simply pulling himself from the fly of his pants and easing into her welcoming heat. No, he needed to hold back, to allow her to admire him as he has admired her. It was only fair, and Joseph prided himself on being fair for the angel before him..Though her title would change by the end of the night if he had his way, which indeed he would, because she was his and he was hers. The moment his chest is against her own, he has her pulled close, those lips against her ear in a soft rasp and voice teetering with each breath. “Your skin is so hot, (First name). So warm and welcoming. I never want to leave your embrace.” He rested his head on her shoulder when her fingers worked on his belt, a soft noise fluttering from his lips when her fingers brushed his weeping erection, the stick of hot flesh begging for attention Oh how long he’s ignored it until he was alone and left to his own visions, his own thoughts. Nights of laying in bed playing away to the mental image of her voice encouraging him, the idea of what her walls would feel like clamping down around him. He damn near purred when his boxers were joined of the floor, his shoes toed off after they met the wooden texture and his body was left bare before her own. She looked on with admiration, tracing each tattoo and scared word left on his body like a memento for the man he has become. She’s traced them before, but never in such an intimate moment as to press her body flush and feel the inked skin against her own bare flesh. Each brush against his skin has his heart slamming against his ribs, had his hands coming up to trace her curves and feel each and every shiver that followed when her hands began to trail lower.

She takes him in hand, his gasp filling the room due to the sudden feeling of her soft flesh clutching his own throbbing shaft. The way she traced along the prominent vein and how her thumb brushed against the tip. He was putty in her hands. It was one thing to use his own hand to pleasure himself, to think of all the dirty acts he would perform with her, but to actually be feeling them, to have her there in person...He savored every moment of it. “Angel.” His voice comes out in a whisper when she sinks down to her knees, a hand slowly placing on top of her head and fingers tangling within her hair. Slow intricate patterns drawn over his needy cock, the tip red with need and already leaking pre-cum due to the vents that have transpired as far. The vein that was prominent against her fingers pulsing with each brush of soft fingertips, weeping tip spilling just a bit more when her thumb brushed over it, his shaky breath falling out into the air. He damn near whimpered when she used to to slick up his cock, hand gently holding the base. “You can hold it tighter, angel. I won’t break.” He whispered softly, earning the softest of laughs from her seated form, his smile growing when she looked up with that honey sweet smile of her own and gave his tip a gentle kiss.

His eyes kept locked with her own when she takes the tip between her lips, humming his approval, as if to say ‘keep going’ to her when she lavishes that area. When she didn’t move further down, he gave a pleading look. “Patience.” She teased, making the man grip her hair just a small bit tighter, licking his lips when she finally took him in mouth and began to sink down. There was no way she could fit him down her throat, not when she hasn’t had time to adjust to his size and length. The slow pull back of her head by her hair made her swat his wrist, as if demanding for her to do this on her own. The Father sighed at such, reminding himself of her mock about patience. Patience was a virtue after all, and they required it to truly savor the moment. Why rush something that was so good already? “Fuck.” A curse fell from his lips, startling the other when she sank until he was just at the beginning of her throat, never having heard the man use such language. But then again, this was a lewd act, and certainly he wasn't a virgin to such words. He was the brother of John and Jacob Seed after all and God only knows those two haven’t followed his path in holding back their carnal desires. “(First name), don’t strain- Oh dear God...Oh fuck.” He swallowed thickly when she withdrew, taking him back to where she had reached before in the matter of seconds. The slow, deliberate trace of her tongue on the underside of his cock had his knees buckling lightly, her hands steadying him by clutching his hips in a firm grasp. The next few times she did the motion developed more noises from deep within his chest, soon having them bubble up with a number of curses when her pace increased. He had to pull her head back, knowing he would sink down her throat and choke her with himself until she’s gagging or blue in the face. The look of worry within her gaze is chased away by soothing fingers running through her delicate locks, trailing cup to cup her chin. “You make it so hard to control myself, angel. So very hard not to take you in a way no one else can. To make you and let others know that you are mine, the Fathers.” He brings her to her feet, lips meeting her own and he can taste his own flavor on her tongue. Sweaty, his musk flavoring her tongue like her honeydew waters decorated his own. No one would ever be able to taste those waters but him, not anymore.

“Bed.” He whispered against her ear, easing her back to lay and get comfortable for what they both knew was coming. “Spread.” Her legs are pushed back near her stomach, spread open by her hands looping beneath her knees. He hummed in approval at her motions, delivering a delicate kiss to each of her knees before offering his fingers to her lips. The moment they’re in her mouth, her tongue is lavishing each digit, making sure they’re nice and wet for what he’s preparing to do to her. When his fingers retreated, he began to speak softly in prayer, a single wet digit tracing her wet entrance before easing in slowly, moving in a slow pace. “Calm the need in me that makes unwise choices. Sooth the soreness in my soul that makes me crave love. Restore my faith in love and divine timing. Bring true love to me, in the right time, for the right reasons.” A second joined and he began a scissoring motion, watching her features for any hint of discomfort from his part. Each light noise encouraged him, his free hand reaching up to trace his fingers along her cheek in a loving motion. “Soon we will be joined as one, my darling (First name) Seed...Hand in hand, body against body...and soul within soul.” The third was a bit uncomfortable, making her wince and his fingers stop briefly. He gave a reassuring look, a promise that he means no pain to her body. Once it was deemed that she was ready, he replaced the hands holding her legs spread from under the knee with his own, pulling her close to his body.

“Joseph...Hold me.” She whispered when he lined up with her entrance, and so he leaned over her, fingers intertwining with her own after he lets one of her legs go, holding her hand when he pushed within her. He wasn’t quite ready for the tightness he was met with, even after he had stretched her, groaning against her skin when he sank inch after inch within. Her fingers clutch his own, tight when the stretch became just a bit too uncomfortable. She’s no virgin to this, she’s had men before, but having waited so long without a partner...just for him...She knew it would hurt. He paused when he saw her discomfort, meeting her lips in a gentle brush, stopping all movements despite the welcoming heat and tightness coaxing him to sink further. “Tell me when you’re ready or if you want me to stop. I won’t be offended if you want me to stop...Your comfort is of the utmost importance.” The sweet smile meeting his features despite the lust blow pools of blue keeping connected with her own was reassuring, and after a moment and a shift of her hips, she welcomed him to sink further. After a few more pushes into her hot cavern, he was seated fully and moaning out at the heat that enveloped him. “Fuck.” He hissed against her skin, pulling his head away to allow her a bit of breathing room. The first withdrawal was uncomfortable, the stretch not quite adjusted yet, but the push in drawing a low mewl from her. Each low noise began to grow in volume the moment she was well enough to adjust to the steady pace, his hand still clutching her own and forehead resting against her heated skin. The light creak of the bed beneath him only spurred his motions on, the noises falling from her lips pure music to his ears. He adjusted his hips, stopping when a high pitched mewl of ‘Joseph!’ falls from those kiss swollen lips, knowing he found purchase at where she needed him most.

“Right there! P-please right there!” She begged him, his eyes darkening when his hand moved from beneath her leg to clutch her hip, sure enough to bruise the skin there when he began to increase his pace. The bed creaked loudly in protest with each harsh push within her, his words of soft praises fluttering in the air between each loud resounding noise of skin hitting skin. It was sweaty, even animalistic but he knew to slow when she was getting too close. “Not yet.” He purred against her ear when he slowed his hips, purposefully ignoring the area she needed him most. “Together. I’m gonna fill you up when you’re milking me for all I’m worth, angel.” Such crude and lewd words, but her heart skipped a beat at such. Was this his final way to claim her, to be his forever? In his mind, yes. The final push...His mother of Edens Garden. The Mother. The moment he begins to grow close is the moment he brings her as close as possible, moaning at the feeling of her nails going down his back with each pump within her. The bed hits the wall in a steady thumb, his word hushed yet breathy against her ear. “Mine...All mine, my beautiful fallen angel. All mine.” His thumb brushed over her clit, and that was it, her legs shook as she went into a harsh orgasm, damn near yelling his name when his pace was harsh and brutal. He didn’t let up, growling her name in a desperate tone when he spilled deep within her. “That’s it...take it all...Take every last drop.” He kissed along her skin when his hips faintly pushed forward, making sure she was filled with every drop. He kept her close as he rolled onto his side, not pulling himself from her as his head nuzzled against her own, face buried in her hair.

“You’re perfect, (First name)...So perfect.” His words meet a lazy smile, her body weak from the motions that transpired between them and face pressing against his neck, inhaling his scent. He always could make her relax, could make her feel comfortable and safe just by being held within those strong arms that had led her into his life. “I love you, Joseph.”

“Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?" - Ecclesiastes 4:9

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Tagging: 

@yancy-trash​

[okay-j-hannah]

A Family Reunion

The Hobbit : Fic

Bilbo x Reader

Word Count: 2240

Warnings: angsty AnGSt that hits thE HeART... but also somehow makes you feel warm inside?? HElp? 

Request: “Hey hon! I just found your blog and I love it!!! May I request a Hobbit one Bilbo Baggins (Young) x reader. Maybe where it’s after the Journey, she had a baby, maybe a little boy. Thorin, Fili, and Kili never die. Maybe the company all surprise visits and sees the reader with the new baby and are totally shocked. Sorry if it’s confusing. Thanks!!” @remitheremit​

A/N: Memory has a funny way of altering what was and what could have been - one always being more painful than the other  

(I need to say upfront that I am SO PROUD OF THIS FIC! It is now one of my FAVORITES ❤💖❤)

There is a certain grief that can’t be described with words. There is a tear in the heart that stretches gruesomely with every beat. There is a pain that resounds in empty echoes.

Those who have felt it know what it is like.

The sun came warmly over the hillside, the breeze making its merry way through the fields. The green leaves twirled charmingly from their trees as birds graced their branches. Bubbling brooks sang along the rocks while the roads above grumbled under the weight of wagons.

The Shire was peaceful that summer morning. It was welcoming and full of delight. It was home.

There was a sizzling in the kitchen as the wife hummed over the stovetop, a low song retelling tales of a lonesome mountain. She busied herself with the biscuits and nut cake, flipping an omelet with precision. There was a hash browning full of leeks, spinach, and cheese with a pan adjacent to it homing a variety of sausage, eggs, and onions. It was something any hobbit would be proud of at seven in the morning

The window before her bathed her with flattering light. And a sign lightly swinging near the paved road read: Bag End. It began to wobble when a cart passed beneath, a friendly hobbit carrying a load of potatoes. Children were squealing behind it, chasing the crooked wheels with their small fishing poles.

She smiled. A motherly smile that only enhanced the warmth outside. One that stretched when she heard the cooing behind her.

Turning she found her husband carrying their little one. He held the toddler close, bouncing slightly whilst gazing at his love. She sighed, completely content as she advanced them with open arms.

He kissed her sweetly on the cheek and smiled as she tickled their infant in his arms.

“Good morning,” he muttered, still training his eyes on her beautiful frame, “I think he’s learning the smell of your cooking.” He leaned back to get a better look at his son, “Woke up as soon as the smell of bacon appeared.”

The infant waved his fat little hands towards his mother, earning her attention expertly.

“That is because he has good taste,” she lifted the baby from her husband, leaning him on her hip and wrapping his blanket around more securely, “He’s his father’s son.”

With his arms now free, the grown hobbit went to the stove to toss the ham omelet, “I might try for the creek this afternoon. Perhaps bring something back for dinner.”

She grinned, swaying with one of the infant’s hands around her finger, “And by that you mean you’ll go to fish, catch nothing, and then stop by the market on your way home.”

“The Brandybuck’s do always have the best carp on sale,” he snickered, looking out the window himself.

A faraway look was coming over him, something that was not uncommon. It was the hills and vast landscaping behind the Shire that took him. He would envision them into great mountains, spectacular kingdoms, and entangling forests. Visions from years ago.

“Bilbo?” she muttered, “What is it?”

He hummed an acknowledgment, keeping his gaze focused, “Have you ever noticed how small a hillside is compared to a mountain?”

She gave a breathy laugh, “I’m not sure our little hills know what a mountain even looks like.”

Bilbo smirked, blinking rapidly to clear his head, “No, I suppose not. Their world is sheltered by green fields and simple trees.” He clinked some plates as he began serving the breakfast, still deep in thought, “(Y/N)?”

His wife perked up, swaying over with the baby to hear him ask, “Do you think we’ll see mountains again?”

It was always a hope that they would one day pack up their things for another journey, this time as a married pair. But once their little one became real there was just less urgency to get back to the maps.

And the years became more.

There is a belief that this life is simply one journey. A long road that paves the way to the next great adventure.

To those who have traveled know that many paths lead to more perilous obstructions. Obstacles that take the breath away, befuddle the mind, and paralyze the limbs. Both in beauty and in pain.

They walked down the grass lined trails to their little back garden – a personal project by (Y/N). It paid homage to what once was, delivering a peaceful reminder for those who wish to recall.

The centerpiece was a glorious oak tree.

(Y/N) could hear her husband’s words from so many years ago, “One day it’ll grow. And every time I look at it, I’ll remember. Remember everything that happened: the good, the bad… and how lucky I am that I made it home.”

That they made it home.

Their son padded along the planted flowers and sparing sprouts as they sat below the oak tree. Bilbo extracted his pipe and wrapped an arm around (Y/N), drawing her close as she began to read a book.

He puffed smoke rings and she read him some of her favorite passages. Complete bliss as their little boy practiced his walking, discovering hidden snails and smooth cobblestones.

“Alright there, laddie?” a course voice appeared nearby, “I see you’ve still managed to keep ahold of your lass.”

“It can’t be,” Bilbo stumbled off the roots of his tree, standing to behold the vast number of guests surrounding their garden.

(Y/N) couldn’t contain the gasp that escaped her, the book forgotten and falling from her fingers, “Bofur?”

The hat wearing dwarf smiled back, “Evenin’ (Y/N). You’re looking well.”

She practically squealed as she attempted to dodge the plants to get to her friend, one that helped her keep her sanity most days on the journey.

Bilbo was still shocked into a standstill, moving his eyes across the lineup with his mouth agape.

Ori and Nori waved at him, both sprouting even more impressive beards than when he last saw them. Gloin chuckled lowly, clapping his hands together at Oin attempting to listen to the crazed squeals of the hobbit girl through his trumpet. An even frailer Balin was hunched near him, giving him an impressive laugh at his reaction. Dwalin was not far behind, throwing two ironclad fists into the air as the cheers reached a maximum.

(Y/N) danced around Bofur, hugging him for a third time, rounding to shake hands with Bifur and wave at Bombur.

There is a certain grief that can’t be described with words.

Dori gave her a sweet greeting before she practically tripped on her way into Fili and Kili’s arms.

There is a tear in the heart that stretches gruesomely with every beat.

Fili and Kili. Once dwarves that Bilbo had feared would sweep his girl away, but the fair princes showed courage in protecting her as if she was their long-lost sister.

There is a pain that resounds in empty echoes.

And their presence could only mean…

Thorin Oakenshield, the true King under the Mountain. He stood surrounded by his family, peering over at the hobbit that was once a nagging thorn in his side. Now he was a true friend and companion.

A long road that paves the way to the next great adventure.

“Thorin…”

That which takes the breath away, befuddles the mind, and paralyzes the limbs.

“I see you’ve planted your tree,” the king stated, growing into a smirk, “It has grown into something great to behold.”

Bilbo found his legs moving, winding through the garden til he was able to pull the dwarf into a tight embrace, “In all my years… I would never have thought…”

“Who’s this little hobbit?” came Bofur’s voice from the oak tree. He was knelt beside their little boy, twiddling his fingers towards his chubby cheeks.

Thorin gazed around his friend, his smile only growing, “A babe?”

Bilbo felt his veins filling with more excitement that replaced the initial shock, “Yes, yes – our son!”

(Y/N) flew over to her best friend, a childlike speed in her steps and a twinkling laugh gracing her lips, “He’s almost eight months old.” She watched Bofur pick him up, his large frame seemingly bigger now with an infant in his arms.

“He has his mother’s eyes,” he remarked, watching the boy peer up at him curiously, “And his father’s pout.”

There was a round of laughs as the others began to swarm into the garden, taking turns to state their shock at the youngling. Bofur bounced him, making faces as Bifur appeared with a trick up his sleeve – he extracted a wooden toy he had widdled back at Erebor.

It was a small figurine of a dragon.

“Quite terrifying,” Fili stated, earning more laughs from the group, “Come here, little one.”

He took up the toddler into his careful hands, much more cautious than he once was as a young prince. His hair had grown along with his beard, more beads intertwined into his braids. The little Baggins was gazing at him now with the wooden dragon clutched in his hand.

“He doesn’t know what to make of me.”

“That’s because you’re holding him wrong!” came Kili, reaching to take away the boy, “You’re not cut out for infants, brother.”

(Y/N) chuckled, finding Bilbo coming up behind her and slipping his arms around her middle. He grinned from behind her ear, noticing the sniffles that were beginning to fall from her.

“Who knew our talk of mountains this morning would have led us to this?” she muttered, finding tears in her eyes as she watched her friends welcome their child.

Bilbo laughed, holding her close, “I suppose when you speak of mountains, the mountain dwellers come.” They laughed, swaying together in time before he addressed the family now bombarding his son, “He’s going to have to learn what having fourteen uncles is like.”

Kili laughed at the smile the child was giving him, “I think I’ve won the place as favorite.”

“That’s because you took him without giving me a chance to entertain him,” Fili scolded, tickling the toddler from behind.

Thorin came around and spoke serenely, “What is the name?”

Bilbo took a deep breath, squeezing his wife to him as she let a tear fall, “We call him Thoro. Thoro Baggins.”

The concept is often called the butterfly effect. One choice, or one event, could alter the course of the entire future. It could change every bit of what’s to come.

Something could have happened to have made it stop. To have made it the way it was supposed to be. To be a part of the dream.

“He is named after the bravest man we’ve come to know,” (Y/N) muttered, wiping tears away as Bilbo stood straight beside her. “After the famed King under the Mountain.”

Thorin took a moment to gaze at them before nodding his head subtly. It appeared as though he was trying to contain the emotion in his voice as he opened his arms for the boy, “Little one…”

And young Thoro fell into his namesake’s arms, holding his dragon close. He looked into his holder’s eyes, finding a welcoming sight and developing a smile onto his features.

“He will grow strong. He will become as great and mighty as this oak tree you’ve planted,” Thorin continued, holding the boy dear. “And he shall one day walk the halls of Erebor, I will see to it.”

(Y/N) couldn’t contain the emotional laugh she gave; how happy she was at the sight. Thorin stood there with her son, his nephews on either side with pride swelling in their chests.

And Bilbo was there beside her, beaming with more joy than she had seen him express in a long time.

And she blinked.

The lights were dim, the sun no longer shining. The morning breeze nonexistent in the missing trees. It was piercingly silent, harsh and unfeeling as it swept the room.  

The cavern was vast and cold and dark; only candles reflected off the carven stone. And the sorrow was so tangible you could have seen it swarming the spacious hall. It consumed each member of the company that heavily walked around each stone alter.

(Y/N) remained where she stood, above the head of their King. She was blinking her eyes continuously as if, by some sudden miracle, she’ll open them and see him looking back.

Her heart beat painfully, her lungs voided of necessary air. It was too hard to imagine what crisp summer air tasted like.

Thorin laid peacefully, his young nephews on either side of him. Each clad with their best armor and finest weaponry – methods to hide the gruesome ends they each had met.

It was incredible the number of tears falling onto her cheeks, dripping from her nose. Her scratchy, red eyes turned only to find the sullen gaze of the hobbit she’d come to love. He too was staring caverns into Thorin’s alter, as if he was unable to properly look at the dwarf without life in him.

He was consumed with trying to hide the sobs he felt, almost blowing out the candles that surrounded him.

And (Y/N) felt for him. She felt for the other men surrounding her.

And if only… if only something could have happened. Something that could have happened to have made it stop. To have made it the way it was supposed to be.

To be a part of the dream.

~~~

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Contract

I return to Tumblr after almost two years because fuck learning how to do Ao3 and Twitter puts me in a rancid mood. Have some OC writing with a goblin.

Quel'thalas, home of the High Elves, was a region of legendary beauty and stupendous magics. Its radiant forests and mana-filled skies made it a haven to all spellcasters, as well as made sure every child of the Quel'dorei bore the boon of magical prowess. Being such an effervescent garden of study and bastion of delight made it most of everyone in Azeroth's number one wish to visit – but it was not so easy to travel towards. The High Elves, massively proud of their homeland, were also infamous for their xenophobia, and barred all outsiders from “defiling” their blessed region and taking what was theirs. Not one member of the Alliance, traveler of the Horde, even splendorous mages from Dalaran, were allowed passage to the golden land. For many years, only a scant few outsiders were given permission to enter the borders of Quel'thalas, and even fewer returned back from those woods.

And their xenophobic ways only grew more paranoid after the assault of the Scourge.

Arthas' crusade to the Sunwell, the crown gem and source of power for the Quel'dorei, had left the capital of Silvermoon and much of Quel'thalas in ruin. Their eternal font of magic had been corrupted into an amalgamation, capable only of poison, and the city had been sundered into two razed sides. Most of the Quel'dorei perished horrendously, only to be brought back as wretched shadows of their former selves, seeking only to appease their baser instincts. Only in the recent years, with the arrival of the Alliance and Horde banding together against the greater evils of the Scourge and Legion, could the newly dubbed Sin'dorei – the Blood Elves - attempt to heal their devastated lands and rebuild their ruined city. Despite their fears of outsiders, they demanded help, desperate for even the aid of “barbarians” to return themselves to their former glory once more.

“Mister” Jashuo Blasternut knew better, but he also understood their plight. As he sat in his Shredder, the Goblin was amazed at the sheer magnificence of the city of Silvermoon. He had seen plenty of tall buildings before in his time, but never could he have expected the spires of the Quel'dorei to lance the heavens so proudly, nor enjoy the tidy stone of the streets. Gadgetzan prided itself on its own technology and access to buildings made of metal and stone over wood and mud, but in comparison to how Silvermoon stood, he would've been breathless – were it not for the literal black scar ripped into the capital of utopia. It was the most obscene comparison, as the pilot gazed from extravagant splendor in the shapes of gold, scarlet and emerald – to a twisted artwork of unholy soil and desecrated treasure. It was almost laughable how obvious the comparison was: Jashuo could see a Magister walking in his silk robes of glorious azure, promptly ignoring the wicked burn lashes scorched into the streets not far from his right. Rather than try to admit that their city had been sacked, they instead hid away in what remained of the city, and refused to look at what had been destroyed. Perhaps it was too traumatizing, or perhaps it was an eyesore; perhaps it was both. Mister Blasternut would've understood either one, but that was why he was there: to make sure that Silvermoon City got the supplies it needed to repair itself.

So he waited on the streets in his Shredder, which was continuously coughing out smoke from its double exhausts thickly. Combined with the meaty grumble of its engine, every single Blood Elf in the city was giving Jashuo a wide berth. He definitely stood out among all of the glitz and glamour, and they refused to give such an obnoxious blemish to their amazing city. The Goblin frankly didn't care, though he was annoyed that they weren't giving his crisp suit the time of day. He dressed up for this! The least that the Sin'dorei could do was accept that he was there to help them and not “embarrass” them. At the same time though, it didn't matter. All that did matter was that his contact showed up and recognized that he was there to plot this contract with them properly. Being a benefactor still demanded the proper respect, and the pilot could only hope that the pride of a noble would not get in the way. It certainly would not be the first time...

Eventually though, he was greeted with a small contingent of Sin'dorei riding upon their daintily-decorated hawkstriders. The only reason that Mister Blasternut recognized them from any other clique of elves was due to them walking straight *at* him, definitely showing that they recognized his presence. The Goblin counted five of them – four guards surrounding a fifth. Too many for him to fight; rather, too many for him to fight and get out alive. His Shredder was equipped with enough state-of-the-art weaponry and thick armor to get him out of (and into) any scrap comfortably, but fighting five well-trained Mages would take too much time for him to make a victorious escape. At the same time, this was making the Goblin somewhat nervous: he had neglected to hire any goons himself. The Blood Elves might have been affiliated with the Horde, but he had a hard time trusting uneven numbers. Regardless, he was there to do a job, and all he could hope was that these Sin'dorei weren't trigger happy. Keeping his sidearm pistol tucked into the back of his pants, Jashuo smoothed out the front of his suit and tie, swept his brown hair back and adjusted his aviator glasses. With an easy step, he moved forward to make the drop from his Shredder-

-only to hastily dart to the right as a fireball exploded a foot in front of him. Even if he hadn't made the dodge, the sparks wouldn't have touched him, but the Goblin still yelped and made the effort to move away.

“Not another step, greenskin!” One of the guards growled, his staff held aloft. “Where you stand is already close enough to the Magistrix.”

“Close eno-  I'm twenty feet away!” Jashuo hissed, his hand behind his back in a clumsy attempt to snatch at his hidden weapon. He was unable to do so, and now it was obvious that he was reaching for something without actually drawing it. This only made the Sin'dorei more irked, and the other three were now drawing their respective staves and swords. With every second, the Goblin was highly regretting this meeting: these guys were thirstier for blood than Orcs!

“Perhaps once you've tossed away your weapon, we can assume you can be closer,” the first spoke again, his gaze tempered on Mister Blasternut. The woman in the middle merely sat silent, her eyes clearly concerned as she leered at Jashuo. It was not an argument that the Goblin wanted to lose, but he didn't have much of a choice. If it got bad, all he could hope for now was to scramble back to his Shredder before he got too ablaze. Surely they wouldn't do something so brazen though, right? Despite his instinct demanding that he not be that stupid, Jashuo once more paid them no heed, sighing as he pulled out the pistol and set it onto the ground. He held his hands up, trying to pass off his face as stoic, but he could feel his brows knitting together.

“Ya know, ya ain't makin' the best first 'mpression here!” He retorted back, flipping his hands back and forth to show he had nothing in his sleeves either. “I'm just a businessman here!”

The captain of the guard scoffed, but nonetheless nodded as he looked towards the Magistrix. She nodded in turn and began to dismount, her guardians following suit and forming up around her. While they all wore the garb of Spellbreakers, clad in intricate platemail, their lady wore a brilliant yellow dress definitely not for combat's usage. The fabric fluttered and glittered in any ray of light that touched it, giving it an ethereal appearance like that of the sun. She wore a mask in the shape of a phoenix's beak, but Jashuo could easily recognize she was a woman. Her hair was long and brown, a definite mane of well-kept locks in comparison to the Goblin's scruff. The two could not have been more different, the Blood Elf's tall and graceful to Jashuo's short and sleazy.

“Pray forgive the aggression,” she spoke in a polite, but curt tone, keeping her hands folded in front of her. “It is hard for anyone to trust outsiders, especially after our Ranger-General has seemingly returned from the dead.”

“...Seemingly?” Mister Blasternut grunted, and was luckily able to bite back any more sarcasm he had. He didn't need to give these Sin'dorei any more ammo to use on him. “I'm guessin' you're uh... Lady D'anthius then?”

“Indeed – and you hadn't even butchered the name! Consider me impressed,” the Lady D'anthius spoke, and even though she claimed it a compliment, the Goblin was somewhat annoyed at her words. Her tone could have sounded as pleasant as she wanted: it did not change the toxin her words meant.

“Yeah yeah yeah, I'm honored. Let's cut to the chase: you need metal for your city, aye?” Jashuo grunted, folding his arms over his chest. His bluntness seemed to take the Magistrix aback, for she visibly recoiled and responded quickly.

“Yes well I... ahem,” the woman spoke, and instantly the Goblin knew something was wrong. Those three words, combined with how she cleared her throat, wasn't like her previous tone. It sounded unsure and hasty, as if quickly being taken off-guard. Mister Blasternut was oh-so familiar with such a state of being, and even that cough was reminiscent of the many times he had to clear his head to properly talk. Yet, what most astounded him was how natural it sounded, as if the Lady's voice had only just started to make its arrival. When she spoke again though, it was with that same level volume and politeness.

“Indeed. The Scourge brought forth nightmares that have devastated our homes and left our people divided – but not broken,” she spoke firmly, keeping her eyes on Jashuo. “To that end, we need only the supply to return our people to grandeur once more.”

That tone returned, and the Goblin wasn't sure what to make of it. Now that he heard it again, something about her voice didn't sound correct. The words made sense, and they were definitely admirable, but now her tone sounded wrong. The Goblin kept quiet for a handful of seconds, trying to process what he could make of her statement to no avail. Maybe he was just overthinking it.

“Right... so metal for buildings and weapons and all that. Well, bulk's what I specialize in, so ya came to the right Goblin,” Jashuo replied finally, looking towards the destruction of the city to his left. “So uh... how much are we lookin' to buy here then?”

“Buy...?” the woman murmured blankly, though she instantly lit herself up to try and hide that question. “Oh! Well, that is what the contract is for, pray tell!”

There it was again. That tone of voice. It was striking the pilot in such a bizarre way that he couldn't put his finger on. Despite Lady D'anthius having spoke three times the amount of words in that “usual” tone of voice, hearing these other words was ringing in Jashuo's mind. Something was “off” about this woman, like she was putting on a different face and attitude. For some reason, this was gnashing hard against the Goblin, strongly enough that it was only when one of the guards cleared his throat that the pilot finally realized what the Magistrix had said.

“Aye, contract – y'know. Usually has cash to it. Ya are plannin' to pay for this, right?” Jashuo grunted, unable to stop himself from being somewhat snarky towards the Blood Elf as he raised an eyebrow at her. However, despite his own aggression, the woman nodded easily, and motioned for one of her protectors.

“Indeed! This legally-binding contract will confirm that, in exchange for your goods and partnership, Silvermoon shall pay you warmly for your services. The parchment requires only your signature!” Lady D'anthius spoke up as the guardian walked towards the Goblin with a roll of paper and a quill. After reaching upward quite a bit to actually snatch the contract, Jashuo unfurled it, and instantly heard a murmur through the Sin'dorei. He ignored it, quickly scanning the document.

“Er... that is to say, at the bottom,” the Magistrix continued, and it was only when she spoke that the Goblin looked up curiously at the group. They quickly silenced, and it was because of that sudden quiet that Mister Blasternut felt the disturbance in persona once more. This time though, he could see flashes of concern in all of their faces, namely the protectors, and a cruel thought entered his mind. Did they not think he was going to read it?... or did they not think he knew how?

“...Seems all in order,” Jashuo answered lamely, and he could feel a plan forming in his head as he read more of the contract. Any of his former cowardice was quickly being melted out in favor of spite. If there was any way to give him the bravery to do something, it was entirely out of implication that he couldn't. He raised the quill to sign, and now that he was more aware, could sense the tension as thick as the smog belching from his Shredder.

“Yannow, actually...,” the Goblin spoke up as the quill touched the paper, and he looked up just in time to see one of the protectors inhale slightly. Instantly, that reaction made it worth being shot at. “I gotta quick question here, Lady D'anthius.”

“You... do?” She asked, at first trying to keep up that air of significance, but quickly deteriorating back into that gentler tone. Now there was no denying that false attitude, and it brought a genuine grin to Jashuo's face, full of shining, sharp teeth.

“Ayup! Ya'see, I ain't just a goblin of fortune here – I do what I do for a good cause, ya'hear me?” He spoke idly, gauging their reactions curiously. Lady D'anthius seemed unsure of what to make of him right now, but seemed to be agreeing with his words.  “When I heard that I could be helpin' rebuild one of the greatest empires ever been 'round Azeroth, I knew what I had to do, see?”

“...Indeed?” The woman replied uncertainly, that fake tone trying to return, but the smugness of the guardians already coming back in full force. She seemed to be catching on that Jashuo was plotting something. He had to admire her thinking so quickly on her feet.

“Aye! So I'm here to help, I'm even here to take you tryin' to hose me with this cheap payment of a 'contract.' But here's the thing, Lady D'anthius,” Jashuo continued idly, then coldly insulted just quickly enough for him to segue into the next part of his explanation. The guardians instantly looked angered at the statement, but the Magistrix kept steady, seeming to predict the Goblin's tone as he kept talking.

“I ain't here to bullshit ya, so I'll make ya a deal. I'll leave ya this supply as goodwill, not a gold piece charged! But it ain't gonna be 'nough to fix even a tenth of what's busted here, or any of that crap I had to pass just gettin' here!” Mister Blasternut stated firmly, his bespectacled gaze now burning into Lady D'anthius' mask. “So I'll be here next week, with more metal for what ya need, and if ya play ya cards right, ya'll be back here next week with an actual contract that assumes I'll read it. I ain't here to bullshit, babe, so ya better not bullshit me back. 'Cause ya should know the first rule of business, Lady D'anthius:”

Jashuo took off his shades, his crimson eyes boiling into the Magistrix's mask as he leered at her.

“If we don't see eye-to-eye, there ain't even a copper to be made here outta yer Silvermoon.”

It was deathly silent as the Goblin glared at Lady D'anthius, and he was surprised in himself that he wasn't fidgeting or squirming under the collective gazes of all five Sin'dorei. Yet he managed to hold on, keeping his eyes fiercely on the woman as he waited for her response. She seemed to be scrutinizing him carefully, as if debating whether to even bother replying to him or simply sending her guards after him. Finally, after what seemed like months, she reached up to her mask to take it off softly, revealing her extremely attractive face, and very piercing green eyes burning back into Jashuo with laser focus as he was somewhat taken aback by her reaction. When she spoke, it was in a capable, natural tone of voice:

“Very well. I... graciously accept your donation, Mister...?”

“Blastanut! Mista Blastanut, please,” Jashuo smirked toothily, getting over himself as nodded in return. “I think we'll be getting 'long just fine, Lady D'anthius!”

“Then I hope that next week marks the... proper start of our agreement,” Lady D'anthius paused, then smiled as she bowed her head politely. Jashuo managed a short bow of his own back before clambering back into his Shredder and closing the lid. With a loud sigh, he felt his nerves instantly relax, but not nearly enough to stop him from making as quick of an exit as he possibly could from the city. It was only when the Shredder had turned the corner that Lady D'anthius shook her head, her captain gazing at her.

“It was probably wiser to detain him, milady,” he grunted, looking supremely tired suddenly.

“He caught our ploy. It was a mistake on our own parts, and thus should I pay the price,” the Magistrix replied, that “familiar” tone of curt politeness returning once more. “These Goblins have proven more cunning than expected: we will be smarter for next time.”

The captain looked satisfied with the answer, but as the woman placed her phoenix mask about her face, she looked back in the direction of where the Shredder had departed, and felt a soft twinge in her chest.

He was a curious one, that Blasternut...