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#and that thing is worth so much money i might as well have just blown it up
chaxiu · 1 year
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guess who almost exploded the furnace in lab today <33333
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stonedcoldfoxtarot · 1 year
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Channeled messages & songs about your FS, future wedding and honeymoon (18+ tarot)
Pile 1 -> Pile 2
Pile 3 -> Pile 4
Pile 1
You & Your FS
You and FS may be financially well off but if not they will work hard in the future to provide you with a lot of the finer things in life. Your spouse may be very traditional when it comes to marriage and may have been taught from a young age that a real man, as they define it, is someone who works tirelessly to provide for his wife and kids. You and your FS may both be self employed as well as self-made, and will both be proud of each other’s success. I see that you really admire and look up to your FS, and they look up to you as well. Some of you may also end up going into business together or you may already be working on projects that overlap in some way.
It seems that one or both of you could be from a lower-income or working-class background, or one of you may have had some money issues in the past. Because of this, your FS will make a promise to you (most likely on your wedding night) that they will do whatever it takes to continuously provide you with the financial stability and security that one or both of you lacked when you were younger.
To be clear, your FS values money more than anything, but they don’t value it more than you. They would trade everything they own to be with you. To them, you are worth more than anything money could ever buy, and they will make sure you know that despite their busy schedule you are the most important thing in their life, always. They might even say to you or others that Man makes the money, money never makes the man. Still, I see your FS may have a demanding job or struggle with workaholic tendencies, but I feel you help balance them out and encourage them to let go of the need to control. You show them how to relax and enjoy life without worrying and stressing about deadlines, client meetings and quarterly earnings. You help them stay present and focused on the day to day, and this is why they feel they could never let you go.
Your and your FS will be so head over heels in love with each other, Pile 1. This could also be a twin flame or high-level soulmate connection.
The Wedding
Okay, here I see that one or both of you could be working right up until the day of your wedding.
Pile 1, you may be someone who is naturally curvy or thicc and your FS loves this about you. When they see you on your wedding day, they are going to lose their minds. They thought you were fine af before but when they see you in your dress, they might say fuck the ceramony lets go outside real quick😭
I’m seeing your FS will be blown away by how you look on your wedding day, Pile 1. They might even cry when they see you walking towards them. They feel so lucky in this very moment, and may be overcome with joy, thanking god or the universe for blessing them with your love. At the altar, they might lean in and tell you that you take their breath away and that they can’t wait to get you back to the telly later tonight. When your FS sees you in your dress, all they will think about is how quick they about to take it off you.
I also see that one of both of you may come from a religious family (roman catholic, orthodox, jewish, islamic etc) and so you will most likely have a traditional ceremony to appease your parents, however, I don’t see either of you being particularly religious (although some of you could be somewhat socially conservative). Overall I see your wedding ceremony being pretty short and sweet.
Wedding Night:
Pile 1, your FS is SO in love with you. Just the thought of spending the rest of their life with you by their side turns them on like crazy. On your wedding night, your FS will take the time to show you how much you mean to them. For some of you, they might tell you before you make love, that they have money set aside for you guys to start a life together (maybe they kept this from you in the past?). They want you to know that, from this moment on, they are solely devoted to taking care of you. I feel like your FS will be in a rush to get you naked but will want to take their time making love to you for the first time as husband and wife. They will want to be as physically and emotionally close to you as possible. They wanna go deep inside you but they will also want to touch your soul. They want to connect to you in a way that you’ve never connected with anyone else before. I’m seeing a room covered in rose petals with soft music and champagne on ice. Your FS is very meticulous by nature and will have given precise instructions to the event planner or MOH earlier in the day about how they want things to look for you when you arrive. They really want this night to be the best of your life (so far).
You or them, or both of you, could also be a water sign or have heavy water placements in your chart.
Pile 1, some of you may get pregnant on your wedding night even though I don’t think you set out for it to happen that way. I feel that you and your FS will get so caught up in the moment and neither one of you will want to stop or for them to pull out. I also feel that your FS already made up his mind that they were going to finish inside you as soon as they saw you walk down the aisle. I heard “fuck it we’re married now.”
Honeymoon
I see that you and your FS will do a lot of traveling on your honeymoon, especially by plane. You both may love to travel and visit foreign places so I feel you both will use this trip as an opportunity to see a few places on your wishlist. I also see that even though you and your FS may have planned out your trip together, your FS will end up adding in a few surprise destinations or reservations just to put an extra smile on your face. They will love to spoil you and gift you things as well so expect lots of unforgettable experiences that your FS will surprise you with such as shopping sprees in Paris or Milan, a hot air balloon ride over the desert or a couples massage on a private yacht off the Mediterranean coast. They really want to make your honeymoon unforgettable and I see them being wildly successful in doing so. You both will have the best time of your life.
Pile 2
You & Your FS
I sense that some people in this pile might already have kids with their FS or have kids from a previous relationship. If you are a parent, they are so excited to be a part of your child’s life. They will love them as their own.
I see that you and your FS are both a little on the shy or apprehensive side. Neither of you like to rush into anything or make decisions on a whim, so the decision to finally tie the knot was not made lightly. Between the two of you, your FS may be more outgoing than you Pile 2, but overall you compliment each other quite well. You are both very committed to making this marriage work.
One or both of you may wear glasses.
I feel that you and your FS feel like “only fools rush in” but you both fell for each other the minute you laid eyes on each other. It really was love at first sight. For some of you, I feel like you may already know this person or dated them in the past. You may have been childhood friends or had baby crushes on each other as kids/teenagers. You both might think that finally tying the knot is this big huge thing you’re rushing into, but everyone else is saying “about damn time!” Everyone who sees you two together just knows you are meant to be together.
The Wedding
Again, I see that you both may have been nervous about taking this step together but you guys will finally take the leap! I keep seeing two people holding hands, about to enter their reception. One of you looks at the other and says, “You ready?” It’s like you’re stepping into a whole new world for the first time together. You both take this step very seriously. I see that, right after you exchange vows, your and your FS might sneak away from everyone to hook up in a dressing room or bathroom. To your FS, you look too damn good in your dress or tux and they cannot wait any longer to make things “official.”
Pile 2, your FS might call you ‘babe’ or ‘baby’ a lot. I’m hearing “Don’t be nervous, I’m right here babe.” This person is your rock. They will be there to hold your hand whenever you need them. Nothing is more important to them than your love and your happiness. I see your reception being lit, full of family and friends who love and support you equally. You will both dance and celebrate the night away, almost feeling sad when it’s time for the last dance. Your wedding will be a night to remember in more ways than one.
For some this could also be a destination wedding or take place outdoors near a beach or body of water
Wedding Night
I’m seeing lots of laughter and silliness as you make your way back to the honeymoon suite. They might insist on “carrying you across the threshold” but may not be able to or end up bumping your head on the wall since you’re both pretty tipsy from the reception. But you will find it adorable how seriously they’re trying to observe this tradition.
The room will be gorgeous. I’m seeing floor to ceiling windows overlooking a body of water. Lots of fairy lights and tea candles dimly light the room. You are so touched by the view, it may bring you to tears. I also see that some of you might have decided to wait until your wedding night or maybe you didn’t go “all the way” in the past or it’s just been a while since you’ve really made sweet love to each other. This first time will be electric. Better than either of you could have ever imagined.
I’m seeing someone take their time to undress you. Kissing your neck and shoulders as they fiddle with your buttons or zipper. They want to go slow and savor each moment. They might have a little stamina built up since you guys could have fooled around after exchanging vows by giving each other oral or using your hands.
I keep hearing “ladies first.” They want to make sure they give you multiple orgasms before finally releasing themselves. Tonight, it will be all about pleasing you. They might give you a massage first. Your FS could be very good with their hands due to their occupation or they might work in medicine/physical therapy and be well-versed in human anatomy.
I see lots of aromatherapy here as well. Your FS may be big on creating a mood or a vibe for every occasion. They might do such a good job helping you relax that you may accidentally fall asleep lmao. But they will keep going. Rubbing you from head to toe until every muscle in your body is attended to. Once they finish, they will gently turn you on your back and kiss you while they slide inside of you.
This might take you by surprise and for some you, you might climax right away. They will tell you how beautiful you sound when you moan. They will also love how you say their name and how you beg them not to stop. Your FS will live to please you.
I see that even though they normally like to go hard and fast, on your wedding night they will go slow for you. To them, this night is supposed to be more about making you happy than about getting themselves off. Of course you both will eventually climax together and afterwards they may fall asleep inside you, holding you as you sleep. At some point your FS might wake up in the middle of the night and start fucking you again while spooning you.
I see lots of whispers between kisses about how much you love and cherish each other. Very beautiful energy.
Honeymoon
I don’t see a lot of travel here. As I mentioned, this may be a destination wedding so some of you are already at the place where you will spend your honeymoon. For others, you may be staying local due to other commitments such as kids, family, work etc, or postponing a big trip for a later date.
Your FS is addicted to your sex, Pile 2. They come alive when they are inside you (or you inside them, flip the roles as needed). They might also be into sex in public places such as quickies in the bathroom, head while they’re driving or sex on the beach at night. Something about the thrill of being caught really gets them going. You may both also be very handsy with each other on your honeymoon and others around you might be thinking “get a room!” but you both couldn’t care less.
This person loves the way you give them head. They think you’re the throat goat, Pile 2. They lose their mind when you do that thing with your tongue 👅💦 And they especially love when you get freaky with them in the car. On your honeymoon, I see that you and your FS might spend a lot of your time driving to different locations such as restaurants or bars and they will take every opportunity they can to talk you into pulling your panties to the side before you get out of the car. They truly cannot get enough of you.
Pile 3
You & Your FS
If you are a woman, you might have short hair or your FS may have longer or shoulder length hair. Here, I see that you and your FS may be somewhat unconventional, but you both pull it off well.
I also see that you or your FS may have fantasized about this connection for a long period of time before actually going on a first date. I feel that one or both of you may have been off limits to each other at one point. You or your FS could have been with someone else when you guys met, so things stayed in the fantasy realm for some time. One of you never thought you would actually be walking down the aisle and exchanging vows with someone you consider to be your best friend, but here you are, finally!
I’m seeing here that some of you may have been in the system as a child or one of you is rebuilding your life after struggle. One or both of you may be on the road to recovery in some way, but you both act as each other’s rock or guiding light in hard times. This is a connection that truly embodies the phrase “for better or for worse.”
The Wedding
The wedding is small and intimate. You may even elope. I see one or both of you may have a lot of tattoos. On your special day, Pile 3, I see you wearing a fitted sleeveless dress and everyone around you is in awe of how beautiful you look. You and your FS’s wedding attire is understated but it fits your aesthetic perfectly. Neither of you enjoy big parties or being the center of attention; you keep the things you love closest to your heart.
One or both of you may write your own vows. If not, I feel like the other person, in a moment of closeness between the two of you, will share their deepest, most vulnerable feelings with you through something they've written or recorded. They want you to know that they don’t plan on going anywhere. You mean the world to them and they feel they would be lost without you.
Some of you might go get matching tattoos on your ring fingers after the ceremony. You both prefer sentimental gestures over grandiose displays of affection and might have a lot of inside jokes or references between just the two of you.
Your wedding day will be low key, but I see this is exactly how you wanted it to go. You and your FS would rather take the money you would spend on a big wedding and put a downpayment on a house or use it to take a once-in-a-lifetime trip for several weeks. You will see the wedding as a formality or paperwork to make things legal on paper, since you two have been loving each other silently for many years before your hands even touched. You know this person is it for you and they are just as sure about you.
Wedding Night
Pile 3, I see that you and your FS will kiss and dance together under the moonlight or in a room with a beautiful view of the sky, just the two of you. You will kick back and enjoy each other’s company deeply. You or your FS may feel like you rescued them. Lots of mirroring energy here.
This person will be mesmerized by the way you look. They think you’re absolutely breathtaking and have felt that way since they first laid eyes on you, but there’s something about the way you look on your wedding night that will have them all the way in their feelings. They may be rather quiet, just caught up in rapture by you and this unforgettable moment. They feel so utterly blessed and like the luckiest person on the planet. They feel like the sky opened up just for them and blessed them with something they’ve always prayed for.
For some of you, this may be a later in life marriage or you both never thought you’d find someone you actually wanted to walk down the aisle with. I keep hearing “Is this really happening?” They almost don’t wanna close their eyes just in case they’re only dreaming and they accidentally wake up.
Your FS will be in heaven in your arms. They want to cherish this moment forever. You guys might not even have sex on your wedding night, simply because you end up talking or holding and cuddling each other until the sun comes up. They feel like there’s no rush because you have the rest of your lives to make love to each other. Your FS might really be into morning sex, so even if you end up falling asleep before consummating your marriage, they will wake you up the next morning with the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had in your life.
They are ready whenever, but it’s something about sex first thing in the morning with their soulmate that will have them ready to give it to you long and hard. I see they are very skilled at making you climax back to back. You FS, regardless of their size or gender, gives serious big dick big daddy energy. You will have multiple orgasms back to back, while they do everything in their power to hold back and make this moment last as long as possible. They don’t wanna pull out EVER.
Honeymoon
For the honeymoon I’m seeing a road trip? You guys might rent an RV or decked out van and take a few weeks off to travel around your country, city or state. One or both of you may have pets that you wouldn’t dream of leaving behind for several weeks, so you found a way to sightsee and explore while bringing them along.
For the rest of your honeymoon, I see you both making love mostly in the morning or in the shower. Your FS might be someone who knocks out early or has a hard time staying awake once their head hits the pillow, but once they wake up and see your beautiful face laying next to them, they will get so turned on and want to put their pent-up sexual energy to use right away. And I don’t see you minding because to you there’s no better way to start your day than by making love to the man or woman of your dreams.
I see lots of outdoorsy stuff here. Lots of exploring, hiking or taking photos in front of cheesy monuments that you will look at and cherish for years to come. I see you two visiting kooky places or tourist traps along your trip as a way to create once-in-a-lifetime memories. I also see that your spouse may be a few years older than you so they might have trouble keeping up with you at times, but they will do their best. Before you, they may have felt that their life had little to no meaning but now they know they were born to love and cherish you. You two are true soulmates, in this lifetime and the next.
Pile 4
You & Your FS
Pile 4, at the time of your engagement and wedding, I see that some of you might be finishing up an advanced degree or will have just graduated from school. You will feel like you have your entire life ahead of you, and you are absolutely right. Things will be falling into place effortlessly, thanks to you and your FS both being very responsible and future-oriented individuals.
I see that you and your spouse may be from a similar culture or background and that both families are quite pleased with your union. You may be the oldest of your siblings or just the most responsible person within your friend and peer group. Many people see you and your FS as “relationship goals” and think that you both are beautiful, successful and naturally very lucky. This pile gives me heavy prom king/queen or valedictorian/salutatorian energy.
I see here that some of you will pick out your own engagement ring because you have very particular tastes and like things to look or feel a certain way. Pile 4, you may be a little high maintenance, but your FS actually really loves this about you. When it comes to you and your FS, all you have to do is point to something and they'll make sure that it’s yours. Your FS may have a high-paying job or come from a wealthy family, so they are used to showing their love and affection by buying you whatever you want and spoiling you with flashy gifts.
The Wedding:
Pile 4, I see that your wedding will be very lavish and upscale. You both will look like money. You and your FS might be foreign born or have big families back home in another country. Some of you may have more than one reception (for family in your country) or you might have several outfit changes throughout the day.
I see here that tradition is very important to one or both of you. You both don’t believe in putting the cart before the horse. In your mind, it goes courting, dating, marriage, babies. Pile 4, I see that you have had a clear plan for your life since a young age and have been able to make sure everything goes according to plan thus far. I see your wedding and honeymoon will be no different. Some of you may even have your wedding date synced to your ovulation schedule so that you and your FS can start trying for babies right away. You both may want to have a large family and feel there is no real use in waiting once you say “I do.”
I see you both will really enjoy your wedding reception as everything has been planned perfectly down to the last detail. All you and your FS will have left to do is to show up and have fun. I also see that for some, both your families have spared no expense for this occasion. This will truly be the wedding of your (and several other people’s) dreams! Pile 4, you will look like a princess on your wedding day because in the eyes of those who love you, you truly are one.
I’m seeing that many of you who picked this pile may be quite young (mid 20s, maybe?). You and your spouse either met in college, though a mutual friend group or were introduced by your families. You both are well suited for each other and will make a great power couple as you age and begin to grow as a family.
Wedding Night
Hmm okay I see this is the pile for the certified freaks. I see either you or your FS will have a lot of energy for the wedding night and y’all might end up fucking like rabbits all night long. I see rounds after rounds until one of you finally taps out. I also see that for many of you, your FS might get you pregnant on your wedding night, but you wouldn’t mind. As far as you’re concerned, they are it for you.
Some of you might be into using toys and handcuffs and spicing things up with role play. Your FS might also have a little bit of a foot fetish or just think you have really beautiful feet. Whatever the case, I see that you will keep your FS on his toes in the bedroom and he won’t be able to get enough of you. Whips, chains, handcuffs - you do alladat. I heard, “I grew out my beard so you can wet it.” They love it when you ride their face. You make your FS so happy with how freaky you are in the bedroom, but they also love how you keep it classy in the streets. I feel the reason you guys are getting married so young is because they really couldn’t wait any longer to lock you down. Your FS knows you’re a catch and they are proud to give you both their first child and their last name.
After a long and exhausting day, I see you and your spouse finally leaving your reception way later than planned - you guys were just having too much fun to say goodbye. You might feel tired and ready for a nap on the way to the room but once you guys enter your suite, I see you will both suddenly get your second wind. For some, your spouse will draw you a nice relaxing bubble bath and tell you to take your time getting ready for them.
They might flip through the tv or scroll their phone aimlessly until you come out. But once they see you in your bridal lingerie, it’s game on. They will be so turned on you will have to push them off you because they will want to do it right there where you stand. Fuck moving over to the bed, that would take too long haha.
I see that some of you may bring handcuffs or scarves and tie your spouse to the bed. From there you will tease them until they literally beg you to sit on it. But you wont give in so easily. I see you like being a tease. You might even dominate them a little, biting and kissing their thighs, saying things like “Yeah, you want me to put it in my mouth, don't you?” They will be almost whimpering from the anticipation of pleasure that they are already dripping and throbbing before you give them head. And when you finally do, they are going to almost explode right away. They will be begging you to hurry up and sit on so they can finish inside you. I keep hearing “Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum.” You make them bust over and over and they can’t hold back when you do the things that you do to them.
Finally, I see you untying them and letting them have their fun. They might grab you and pound you fast and hard, finally releasing all that pent up energy from earlier in the day. I see that throughout these moments, you will be in ecstasy. And for some of you, you may have an out of body experience as waves of pleasure wash over you as you cum. I see this person making sure they finish inside you every time because they don’t want any of your future babies going to waste lmao. They wanna save it all for you.
I see that you guys will probably stay up all night and won’t pass out until the following morning. Guests who stayed at the hotel overnight might ask for you guys at breakfast and then laugh to themselves realizing you’re probably either upstairs having sex or taking a break between rounds. They will remember what it’s like to be young and in love, and will possibly have some food sent to your room for nourishment. Your friends and family are highly supportive of this union.
Honeymoon
I see that for some of you, you and your spouse will have a very “smart” or elegant honeymoon in London, Paris, NYC or similar. Lots of museum visits, going to shows and sightseeing in major cities. One or both of you may be really into the arts or high-brow, upscale outings and your IG feed will be the envy of others. Here I see that your FS will handle all of the small day to day details of the honeymoon, such as reservations, hiring a car service or calling ahead to make sure the staff has a bottle of wine chilled and ready for their new bride. They will want you to intrinsically know through their actions that they will always be on top of things for you. They will try to cater to you like it’s their job.
Again, I’m seeing that both of you may be traditional or come from cultures where tradition is very important, so this person will make sure to play their part for you because they know you expect nothing less, and you will match their energy where it counts.
Overall, I see you and your spouse really enjoying your wedding and honeymoon. Making memories that you will share with your friends, family, kids and future grandkids for years to come.
Thanks for reading🔮✨
© 2023 stonedcoldfoxtarot. All rights reserved. Please do not copy, translate, edit or redistribute.
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wayfayrr · 10 months
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I am LIVING for the househusband shenanigans, it gives me so many ideas (super long ask i'm sorry lol)
but i love the idea of the chain ending up in reader's world, more permanently, and after falling hard for reader to boot, so the period of adjustment for everyone is wild and what the fuck is reader supposed to do with 9 (or more, depending who you ask) lovesick heroes in their house fit for 1-2 people?? not to mention none of them have documentation or decent knowledge of modern culture
i can imagine some of the Links (time, legend, four) jumping at the opportunity to learn more about their darling's world, and their likes and dislikes, in order to better understand them and get closer to them (it's the feeling of wanting to know every possible thing about something they're obsessed with, just completely filling their brain with it)
Some (most) Links are going to be straight up hazards to themselves and their environment with their curiosity and lack of understanding for technology. it doesn't matter what precautions you take something is going to get blown up in the microwave.
wild and sage would probably attempt to cook for you, knowing how stressed you are about the whole thing, only to wildly overestimate how long it takes to cook something with a microwave (all you'd told them was that it heated things up like a cooking pot) and also fail to realize that some things cannot be put in the microwave
an alarm clock or something goes off, and one of them smashes it thinking its a threat (time... old man don't know shit about tech and he's too traumatized)
and good luck getting your clothes back because all of the boys are going to participate in the theft of them at some point. doesn't even matter if it's not something they can wear. they just want it because it's yours and it smells like you and it's like a piece of you-
speaking of clothes, if you start to voice concern for lack of clothing (bc someone keeps taking all of them) they are all jumping at the chance to lend you their own
Legend would leave a spare tunic of his for you, not even giving you the chance to decline when you simply find it folded on your bed. And he'd mend or tailor anything for you that you have complaints with, asking you so (uncharacterisitically) nicely to be with him while he does it, because, he's going through the trouble for you, the least you can do is keep him company, right?
He might even intentionally cause problems with your clothes, if he's desperate enough for attention. But how can you blame him? He knows it's not your fault, but your mind just been all over the place with everything going on and with the time you've been spending with the other he just feels left out.
All he wants is your praise, to hear you tell him thank you, and that he did a good job, and maybe run a hand through his hair, yeah? God, he'd just melt against if you did that. It makes everything beyond worth it, for you to stroke his hair and tell him how you don't know what you'd do without him. His angel, it makes him feel so blissful, so special when you give him your attention like that.
A few of them would eventually get the idea to get a job, prompting the rest to act as well. They can't just let their god(dess) take care of everything, can they? That would be asinine.
It would be difficult, considering they don't have...ID's, or anything of the like, but there are still ways for them to earn money
i could go on, but... yeah lol
Don't worry about it being long, I love getting asks like these!! I love talking about the househusband au, all the different ways it could go with the chain and the different members are really fun to explore! And all of your ideas in this one are just 😭💖 I'd always welcome any asks or dm's about the au, because it's just so much fun to hear everyone else's ideas for how it'd work as well!✨✨
The housing is certainly an issue for the chain though SOJNCAN with that many people not used to the modern world in such a small place?? They're basically begging for something bad to happen, like a fire or something breaking even worse if reader's house is being rented to them. Documentation and ID's as well? For some of the chain, they could likely get away with it, but it's really a goal for them to get ID asap because if they do they can get out of a lot of legal issues Wind and the "kids" (Wild and Cal) are the first of the rest to get ID for the sake of school. And there'd likely be a written language barrier as well! If reader wanted to buy some other place to live they better start saving, who knows maybe they could just trade in a few rupees at a time and have a new place in a matter of days?
As for the ones you've mentioned wanting to learn everything possible, it'd get to a point where they're sitting with bloodshot eyes in front of either readers laptop they've borrowed or something they managed to buy steal for themselves having gone down a cursed Wikipedia rabbit hole, Maybe even watching through some playthroughs of their own games? Or if reader was still studying, like at uni or something, suddenly they know more than even the experts in that field.
ALL of the links at some point get dangerously close to breaking something, it's more a matter of if one of the more experienced cough Sage cough or reader steps in time to stop them. I absolutely adore all the different things you've suggested though, the microwave and the alarm clock??? Time's still got trauma to do with clocks and alarms and it's so perfect✨✨
The chain stealing readers clothes is also just 🥹, it's the easier option than even washing their own clothes with their laundry not because readers worn these in the past, no never. May I raise the idea to them stealing things they can't wear to putting the clothes that don't fit for whatever reason onto pillows?? so they can hold a part of their beloved when they sleep.
Legend with fixing their clothes as well as lending them his own I'm sobbing 😭😭😭, since ofc he's one of the more sensible ones he gets left alone far more often so he's so much more desperate for their attention even though he only gets less because they trust him more alone. So for him to get those small moments of praise, even though they're so small because it's only a matter of seconds till readers torn away again by someone else shouting for their help 😭
I think I've mentioned them getting jobs if they were dumped irl, seeing as there are a few they could do without ID you couldn't pry influencer!wars out of my cold dead hands. The moment of realisation they've been using their darling would be such a moment of guilt before they follow legend's/sage's leads and start working or helping reader around the house, those links at school would be getting the top grades in their classes seeing as that's what reader wants them to focus on.
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miikpal · 14 days
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Heya, Milk! You got any advice for somebody who wants to start taking commissions but doesnt know where to start? I been drawing for a while (about 10 years), but I never tried selling my art before. It's kinda scary. I don't need a lot of money right now, so it's not urgent, ive just heard people say it's good experience. Is it worth trying at all rn? Sorry if you answered something like this before
no worries!! i dont think anyones asked me about this stuff before tbh... im in a similiar boat where i dont really do these out of necessity lol its definitely worth it!! if u thought about it even briefly its worth it to try
its been a hot minute since ive first started taking comms but i guess these would do for starters:
- your following might affect comm interest - i would only get very sporadic ones for the longest time unless i undersold (DO NOT DO THIS GET UR MONEYS WORTH) so dont get discouraged at first is what im saying. get ur pals to promo the announcement posts and put urself out there and eventually someone will get interested
- you can start small and lowkey. if u wanna just dip your toes in the commissions water before doing full blown pieces its absolutely ok to start with doodle or sketch comms. they tend to be cheaper and attract client bases that way anyway - so its a win win! low stakes and you can slowly figure out what works for you
- for the love of god make a TOS. having a document of things that are and arent allowed that u can point at whenever somebody tries to pull a fast one on you is a lifesaver. mines really thorough but i like to cover all the bases
- pretty much at every step where youd think 'going back to fix something after this part would be a pain in the ass' stop and send the progress to ur client and ask if anythings off or needs fixing before you keep going. better safe than sorry. in general be communicative and upfront about any info with ur commissioner - its a nice thing to do and will make both of ur lives easier!
- make sure ur comm post includes clear examples of the kind of art u can offer - this is gonna be the forefront that attracts ppls attention! they should know what theyll be getting
- set up a comm only email or a google form for taking in comms its. much easier to keep track of things this way. actual communication can go somewhere else but its good to have a single place just for the actual initial inquiries etc.
I RAN MY MOUTH LOL. if u have other specific questions feel free to ask for a follow up i suppose!! these are just the ones i wish i thought of when i first started. i hope ur commissions journey goes well, im rooting for ya !!!!!!!
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bathsaltsmcgee · 3 months
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My thoughts on HH and some other stuff, too
Wow, y'all. Just... just Wow.
Okay, first off, I just wanted to say that I am absolutely blown away by the sheer amount and scope of all the attention that I've gotten this past week or so regarding my story BtM. I was truly not expecting that, and for my readership to explode exponentially since the last time I posted, it's amazing to me the number of followers I've gained, the people who've stopped by to say hello, the messages, the comments, the subscriptions and favorites, the everything else, and I just wanted to say thank you.
Reading everyone's reactions and seeing them get so excited and hyped up about something that I truly care about really makes writing worth it.
So, I'm thrilled that everyone's having so much fun. :D I know I am!
Anyway, I've had a couple people reach out to me, requesting my thoughts regarding the first season of Hazbin Hotel, and I thought to myself, 'Oh, why not?'
So, here we are.
Overall, I greatly enjoyed it. The animation was crisp and pretty to look at, the songs were absolute bops, as was the background soundtrack, the overarching narrative was interesting, and the characters, barring a few notable exceptions here and there- *cough* icky moth man who needs squished flat with a metal cleat and the world's first grandiose malignant narcissist- were quite enjoyable.
They were all well written, of course, but, good Lord, some of them were just truly heinous people.
I think, out of that of all of the new characters to which we were introduced in the series that didn't hold speaking roles in the pilot, I think my favorite was a tie between Rosie and Emily. Rosie was exactly who I hoped she'd be, Dolly Levi with a dash of Mary Poppins- she even gave out her business card to that one cannibal lady like Dolly did all the time in 'Hello Dolly'- and Emily was such an adorable little bean. We need more of both those ladies in the future.
The biggest surprise out of the whole show for me, though, was finding out that the hotel actually worked. I genuinely was not expecting that, and I suspect that the exercises that Charlie was making everyone do didn't really do that much, but the situations in which the characters found themselves and how they chose to react to those situations because of their experiences at the hotel were what really clinched it in the end.
I'm very proud of Pen, though. Good for you, man. Goin' out like a champ and getting into Heaven by total accident. Well done.
Mind you, I did have a few gripes here and there, such as the rushed nature of the pacing, but I doubt that I'm alone in that particular camp. The pacing of the overarching narrative was a bit rushed for my taste, and when I'm watching a show, I would prefer not to feel at the end of it like I was in the middle of a caffeine bender.
If I'm going to do that, I'll drink two pots of coffee, follow it up with a latte, and see where it goes from there.
It was almost like deciding to make soup, but not adding any water to the condensed can, so it ended up way too thick and not nearly as smooth as it could've been, had the water been included.
Had they taken the same amount of plot and spread it out over twelve episodes, instead of just eight, it would've been a bit more evenly balanced, and we might have gotten more character moments and interactions to really sell the growing bonds between the main cast, which would've made the other narrative points that much more powerful, such as Pen's noble sacrifice.
However, the number of episodes was probably down to studio constraints and the bigwigs decision to keep the series compressed because money, so I won't hold that against the production team.
That's just business. It happens. No big deal.
So, all in all, it was a fun little romp. Alastor is still my favorite character, because he's just so interesting and multifaceted, and by the end of the season, I had far more questions about him than I did answers.
This is a good thing, though.
I'd be disappointed if he were too easy a character to read.
There's a lot going on there with him, and his morality is too grey and muddled with far too many unknown factors to make a definitive take on him just yet. I still think that my initial understanding of him is on the right track, such as his MO, but I am curious to see where this goes in the official narrative.
So, yes, I will be staying tuned for the next season.
However... just curious here.
Are we really going to have to wait another two years for the next season?!
Because I heard a rumor circulating that that was the case, and I'm kind of hoping that's not accurate.
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neruriry · 10 months
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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊.↳ ❝ parasocial ❞ pt#1 ☄. *. ⋆
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"You would usually say no to getting out of your house, but who are you to refuse if you're getting treated to see the performance of your favorite group ?"
➶ feat ; kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader
➶ word count ; 1.3k
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“How did you even score tickets?! Let alone front row ones?!” You tried to loudly talk to Yunjin through the loud crowd. You couldn’t hear what she said, but you saw her giggle, as your face contorts in confusion.
“Don’t worry about it y/n. Today’s my treat, I know how much you love that bassist, I just had to score us spots when they were in town!” She said, with a warm grin on her face. You couldn’t help but smile back and just give her a hug. No words were needed nor enough for you to express your gratitude to have someone like Yunjin be by your side. 
While waiting for the band to enter, you reminisce about the time you met Yunjin.
You finally got out of highschool, now attending that was your first pick in all the ones you applied in, though some of your old friends were lucky enough to be able to get in the quite prestigious school you are in now, they sort of forgot about you after highschool, at least that's what you've always said, after all, they had different dreams, ambitions, and interest compares to you, some of them dreamed of becoming doctors, others wanted to become teachers, and you decided to pursue music, as you never thought of any other career you’d enjoy. Were you going to make lots of money from using your hobby as a full blown career? You didn't know. Were you gonna enjoy doing music professionally? You didn’t know either.
Good thing you had pretty good grades in highschool, so you had a scholarship, a dorm, and a stipend. All the accommodations you acquired made you think that everything in college was gonna be a breeze, until you got one call.
“Hello? Is this y/n l/n?” a woman, who sounded formal, but polite, asked you through the phone. 
You struggled to put your phone in your ear, as you were carrying multiple cups of ramen for your week's worth of dinner, should’ve grabbed a basket before grabbing all of this stuff, you thought.
“Hello? Yes, this is y/n.” You did your best to sound composed, despite struggling with your baggage.
“Good afternoon, I am the school staff in charge of affairs related to scholars. On the school’s behalf, I would like to inform you that from now on you’ll be sharing your dorm room with another student.”
You tried your best to not drop a cup at the quite surprising news you received, you thought the dorm wasn’t gonna be shared, since it is quite late, but you were glad the phone call wasn’t the school kicking you out, or something.
“Hello? I hope you do not mind sharing, we know this is quite abrupt, we did originally plan the room being for you only, but we miscalculated the amount of students occupying the dorms, so we had to transfer this student to yours.”
You didn’t realize that you already spaced out and immediately hurried to reply when you heard the woman's voice again.
“Ah! Of course, I do not mind. But when is the said student transferring to my dorm?”  You said. “We informed her that her transferral will be done ASAP, she might arrive late afternoon tomorrow.”
Well, that was a lie.
You rushed home carrying your eco bag filled with cups of the same ramen you’ve eaten as dinner for a few weeks since you moved into your dorm so you could have more time to clean up your place. You spent the entire night doing your supposed best tidying up your dorm, moving your stuff from the room with a spare bed to your room. You spent most of your time thinking where to put insignificant small trinkets from the spare room to wherever you thought it’d fit that you eventually just passed out on the living room couch.
*knock knock*
Silence.
*knock knock knock* 
SIlence again.
The once gentle knocking turned into continuous frantic banging on the door, and you eventually woke up, scrambling to the door, opening it fast.
You were still groggy even though the banging on your door was loud, but if something were to wake you up, it would be the strong knock you got to your forehead.
“AH! I’m sorry! Are you okay!?” The person knocking hurriedly tried to help your poor self, covering your face, specifically your forehead after the hit you endured.
You moved your hand to see the person who hit you, while still covering your forehead. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You definitely weren't, but you still tried to hide the pain in your voice.
“I’m really sorry! This is quite a bad first impression… All my rehearsals for nothing!” The girl dramatically exclaimed. She was odd to say the least, but you were glad she forgot about your forehead.
“You must be y/n!” She said, holding out her hand, for a handshake, you assumed. “I’m Yunjin, I heard alot about you, but I did not expect… This…” She continued, while looking around in the dorm.
Right, you passed out while cleaning up, and decided to set an alarm early on so you could just finish up the next day.
“Wait, what time is it!?” You rushed to grab your phone back on the couch, leaving Yunjin hanging. As you searched for your phone under the pillows you hear your new roommate comment
“Hey, didn’t mean to sound rude or something back there, your dorm.. Is fine.. It's just a little disorganized, that's it.” She said, trying to justify what she said back in front of the door, while moving her bags to the living room.
“Sorry, I did try to clean up a little bit overnight, but I decided I’ll finish up this morning. '' You explained, while looking at your phone’s clock. 10am, that is most definitely not late afternoon.
“Is that so? Then I too am quite at fault for coming unannounced.” She said while walking to your fridge. “Your forehead looks really red, let’s do something about that.” She grabs the tray of ice in your freezer and puts the cubes in a clean towel she took from the shelf, and approaches your disgruntled figure on the couch, and pats the towel on your reddened forehead. 
She sits beside you and tries her best to be as gentle as she can since she noticed you flinch after every dab of the cold towel hit your skin followed by quiet ‘ouch’s and hisses.
“I never got to properly introduce myself, did I?” you shift your aimless gaze at her, uttering a small ‘yeah’, awaiting her dramatic introduction like the one she did earlier, but it never came.
“My name’s Yunjin, I am a music major, I heard from the dean that you too majored in music? No one I know previously also majored in music, I’m glad I met someone who’d want to pursue the same stuff I do.” She said, in a soft tone you didn’t expect, as you assumed that she’d keep up the arrogant exterior she portrayed earlier.
You and Yunjin continued to talk about random stuff, from songwriting, to movies, and to music bands you two enjoyed, and as you find out that she too enjoy listening to a group with an idol as the main singer, a huge guy with horns adorning his silver playing drums, and a white haired bassist possessing a voice as refreshing as the winds blowing on a calm sunny day, you warmed up to her, despite you still being reserved and quiet, she stayed by your side, even when you two graduated and lived separately, she kept contact with you, and often dropped by your house to cook and drag you out of your house.
Your train of thoughts gets cut when you feel an arm wrap around yours, as your body gets dragged up.
“Y/n! Their performance is starting!”
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bitacrytic · 2 years
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Hi hello do you have more thoughts on Kinnporsche world tour that you would like to share?
Personally, I'm really glad that as cringy as their dancing and songs can be, I'm really really glad that they're taking an effort. Idk how other SE asian dramas do publicity tours but for me this is really unexpected. I've mostly only heard of meet and greet, q&a, signings etc. The whole ass performances, musicals, singing and dancing is just... Is this the norm? Idk I'm blown away regardless.
Please let us hear what you think of the tour??
Thoughts
♡♡♡
I do not know if this is the norm. 🤷🏿‍♀️
I love everything I have seen in the tag and on tiktok. Truth be told, I might not be able to sit through 4 hours of the show, in one stretch. So, getting it in bits and pieces has been a treat.
I do not care that it's cringy. I like it. It's gay chaos and I like that they keep going from horny to unhappy. It's a toss up of what I'll see each time I see a new post.
I like that the tour, and the show, has carried these 16 men along like they're the avengers. It would have been so easy to focus on the main six and let the rest fall behind. But they've been consistent about this. Is this normal in bl promos? Someone please help. Do other bls include friends of the main characters? Or characters who had very little screentime?
♤♤♤
Fears
♡♡♡
1. We might get bored if we see the same show in every arena. (However, the fact that D1 and D2 were slightly different gives hope that we might see variations)
2. They will be sensored in a lot of places. Think about it. People go to theater to watch men and women kiss on stage, in romance plays and such. But one kiss from kinnporsche and people were up in arms to the point that they had to sensor it the next day. And this was in a Thai arena. Imagine what it would be like in other countries. We got unhinged fuckdom in Thailand, which means that other conservative places will have more set of rules and things to ban from happening in their arena
♤♤♤
Hopes
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1. If we're not getting a second season, I'd like to see more scenes that weren't included on the show. For example that TimeTayTem scene. It was very, very welcome. If they switch up the main couples scenes every time, I would be glad. Like, we've seen the kp pier kiss, twice and the vp breakdown and the kc breakup. If they decided to use other scenes from each couple, in other arenas, it would keep things fresh. But ALSO give us a chance to see scenes that weren't in the show
2. I hope they're making money. Because this endeavor is taking these men off the market. I imagine that, right now, they're all hot cake. This would have been the perfect time for most of their careers to take off. But that won't happen because they're engaged in a post-series world tour. I hope the money is worth it.
3. I hope they're all good. I hope their pillows are cold and their beds are fluffed. I hope they sleep well, rest and exercise. I hope they're all getting railed as regularly as they want. I hope that none of them have family members that are ashamed to see them do this on the world wide interwebs. I hope they're having as much fun as they look like. I hope that they have a safe journey around the world and end up back at home, in one piece.
😁😁😁
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imaslothandsowhat · 2 months
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still unemployed. also, highly anxious and have creeping depression coming back. home situation so stressful with the whole home renovation. we dont have any help and im incapable of doing everything my parents want me to do. i keep having pestering health issues. i dont get enough sleep and i think i have very strong case of insomnia fuelled by horrible anxiety. home renovation is so stressful and shit doesnt work bcos both my parents are old and, well, im not a fucking builder so i dont do it either. they keep having constant bickering to full blown out fights. i cant even clean the house, im so exhausted all the time. i think tis the atmosphere in the house - depressing and hopeless, we all succumbed to it. i dont know how to escape. also, reading horror stories - that may have influenced my mental state in one way or another, who knows, at least it keeps me happy bcos im lost in another book.
i try to write. finished one shot. writing another one, a very long one. i have many ideas for fanfics but then i get discourages bcos 'those are just fanfics'. they are not going to get me employed or recognised in any way. its not a published book draft. i cant force myself write an analytical piece of essay on politics - it bores me, kills me. i want to be educated and i try to read some academic articles but i cant physically force myself to open one. also, i want to and, actually, just have to read and learn the laws (plural, yes, so fucking many) of my country so i can be an educated citizen that knows her rights. its intimidating, its a lot, i want to cry often bcos i feel like a failure.
im so old and i dont have a job even though i graduated bachelors already a year ago. i shouldve found smthgn by now. but i dont want any job, i want smthng nice and worthy of m and my time and my knowledge. but i suppose im also very lazy and passive. i thought about starting a youtube channel, but thats also a lot of effort. a lot of energy.
all my energy goes to surviving day by day in this depressed household whre my father is always angry, tired, unhappy and my mother is always angry, tired, unhappy. see, a pattern? i am, too, always angry, tired, unhappy. when things go well, we cherish and we dont do anything. then, things swiftly go to shit and i feel sm anxiety that i feel my heart bursting and bleeding and i dont have any meds (except simple calming one) to help me. i want to cry, often, more often.
i began my singing online classes. it felt like a lot of fun and i enjoyed it. i want to begin my piano classes too, slowly. but then, i feel like a failure bcos its not a job. i dont work. i dont get money. i dont develop myself career-wise. everythign i do and enjoy slightly - its all a mess, its all unworthy, its all pointless. i dont help around the house, i dont help with renovations, i dont work. im nothing, i worth nothing. i dont have a job and im nothing, i dont have a career and how dare i dream big, how dare i be ambitious.
very depressive state of mind. my mind is haunted, i suppose, its hunted even by these sharks of anxiety and self-hatred ingrained so deep within me that it takes me so many years to unlearn that no, in fact, killing oneself is not a logical decision and hating every inch of your being and your personality is, in fact, not a healthy and cool attitude.
well, doing it all little by little. might read some academic articles, might not. who knows? no one fucking hires me regardless of how many cvs i send. my country is rotting, decaying from blatant nepotism and corruption. how will i move through it? i do not know. but i put too much energy already in my beautiful hobbies, in helping around the house, in keeping myself and my parents sane and not going off the rockers. its a full time job, actually! i try to soothe myself before i sleep bcos i wish only to cry and scream bcos how dare my fate not be what i have imagined all these months ago.
the world is cruel, unhappy, damp place. and i think im falling through it. but im trying to remember that this all is just a temporary feeling and i will feel better soon, maybe even tomorrow. my hobbies make sense, they are worth the time, worth my energy. i must try to enjoy my life even though i feel like its running away and i am worthless and my mom's words about 'doing something, write something, DO SOMETHING' are not helping. i simply want to decompose, cease to move forever. why time flies so fast? its already the third month of the year and i havent accomplished anything. work-wise, i guess. mentally? im down again. why life is like this.
tmrw i believe things will be better even though i cant for the life of me force myself to fall asleep early bcos my thoughts are killing me, eating me from the inside. i cant for the life of me force myself to wake up early bcos the dread of the day filled with depressive state horrifies me. what a cycle i live in. i dont know how to get out. and my depressed and angry parents are not helping. and i do not want to leave my house, pls do not suggest, im so sick of this stupid suggestion.
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wichmann75sullivan · 2 years
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replica burberry scarf 1
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wri0thesley · 3 years
Note
nat something about toji drives me absolutely feral, can i have a scenario or something where he meets reader at a bar and they have a steamy one night stand i don’t know i just want this beeg beefy dilf to absolutely ruin my puthy (fem reader please!)
anon, i really hope you have a corruption kink
Favourite (So Far) - Toji x Fem!Reader (5k)
Toji sees you sitting alone at a bar; all quiet and soft and unsure, and absolutely begging to be ruined - and he decides he can help with that.
warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns. not sfw, mentions of murder. corruption kink, virgin reader, dacryphilia, fingering, coming inside, dirty talk. 
Toji normally doesn’t bother lingering after he’s held up his end of the bargain, but the money is burning a hole in his pocket and the minute he’d left the body of the man he’d been hired to kill locked in the back office of the bar, he’d remembered you.
He estimates he’s got a good half an hour before anyone realises the man is dead. If they’d wanted him to clear up after himself, they should have written it in the contract – still, with how awkward you’d looked and how your eyes kept darting about the place, Toji is pretty sure he’ll have you away from the bar and with his arm around your waist in . . . ooh, ten minutes? Fifteen, at a push.
He knows your type.
You’re uncomfortable, watching your friends go off and flirt and dance – pulling at your skirt (you’re uncomfortable in that, too), tugging your thin shirt up to cover your chest, ordering something non-alcoholic and looking morosely at it. Your eyes avoiding when men try and catch your gaze, your posture tensing – he’s pretty certain that you do not want to be here, and Toji is going to offer you an alternative that he thinks you might prefer.
You don’t notice him until he’s right beside you (people never do), leaning in against your ear, one of his arms slapping on the bar beside you, caging you in on your barstool. You start, moving back, blinking your pretty eyes at him in clear surprise, your mouth a soft ‘o’ – ah. Toji can tell you’re the kind of girl who isn’t used to male attention, who doesn’t think that you’re anything special. Shy. Probably untouched-- he’s grinning at you, and he doesn’t miss the little swallow, the flash of interest in your eyes (girls like you always like the idea of getting involved in something a little dangerous)--
“Can I buy you a drink, sweetheart?”
The voice is rough and low and dark, startling you from your reverie. Your friends have all, indeed, long gone – after sighing at you that you’re no fun, that they shouldn’t have asked you to come out with them anyway – you’re surprised by the man it belongs to, all raven hair and piercing green eyes and a scar on his lip that your eyes can’t help but trace the line of – how does somebody end up with a scar like that?
“Oh,” you bluster, feeling embarrassed and unsure by the way he’s looking at you, the easy way he throws out the pet name, the casual authority he’s emanating by how you’ve been caged. “I’m-- I don’t really--”
He chuckles.
“Me neither,” he says. “Lemme get you somethin’ soft, then--”
It would be easier, he thinks, if you had agreed – if you’d been softened a little bit by the buzz of alcohol. Still, he knows that what he gives off is heady enough that you’ll come with him anyway – he doesn’t drink himself, so he’s not exactly going to blame you for wanting to keep your wits about you. Smart thing, for all of how vulnerable you look in a short skirt and high heels and a low-cut top. He’s ordered something for you before you can refute – you can’t deny to yourself that it’s nice. It’s nice to have someone be interested in you. It’s nice, too, that said someone is rugged and six foot something with corded veins and muscle in thick biceps and forearms.
You’re staring at him, and Toji allows it, letting his own gaze crawl across your pretty face, your body, the way the cheap lights of this dive are picking out the shine in your eyes and the gloss of your lipstick.
“What’s a cute little thing like you doin’ on her own somewhere like this?” He asks you, lifting the glass to his lips. You try not to stare at them, though your stomach is twisting. You shrug, awkwardly.
“I got dragged here by some friends,” you say, inclining your head towards the dance-floor, where your friends are very much living up to their earlier assertion that they were going to have a wild time and if you weren’t going to join in, then you could just wallow in your misery.
“Ah,” he raises his eyebrows, eyes briefly brushing over where you’d indicated before returning to you. Something about the way that those eyes are pinning you like a butterfly to a cork board makes you squirm, heat curling in your lower belly. Nobody has ever looked at you like that before. This man is staring at you like he wants to take you apart, and it’s exhilarating. “You not the dancin’ sort, huh?” Another swallow. The bob in his throat is mesmerising. “Can’t blame ya. Pretty thing like you’s probably inundated with attention the minute y’get out there--”
You laugh, softly, heat rising to your cheeks. Toji can’t help but think how cute that is – you’re so obviously unaware of yourself. When he gets you on your back, he knows you’ll have that certain kind of naivety that never fails to get him hard and aching in his pants; wide eyes and bitten lips and breath dying in your throat at the touch of his teeth and hands and cock.
“Nothing like that,” you say, “I just--”
Your eyes catch something. Toji looks too, as you’re interrupted by a pretty girl tottering up to you both in an even shorter skirt and even higher heels. Her eyes linger on Toji, a fraction too long, before she turns to you and pouts and says your name, making you wince. There’s a whining tone to her voice.
She’s complaining that someone’s spilt a drink over her, and Toji sees now that her expensive-looking shirt is stained dark brown. He hadn’t noticed the scent of beer wafting from her because of the overall air of the bar is absolutely saturated in it, but now that she’s right there . . . he wrinkles his nose.
“You have to come home with me, nobody else will,” she tugs on your arm. “And you said you weren’t having fun anyway, so you can always stay there, but I need to change out of this--”
There’s a world-weary quality in your eyes. Something that suggests to Toji that you’re used to being the designated person to take care of your friends, to dropping things to clean up after them – those big eyes and the downturn of your mouth and the softness of your voice all suggest to him that maybe part of the reason you’re so demure, so . . . innocent . . . is because you haven’t had a chance to explore anything else.
Toji drapes a thick arm around your shoulders. You jump at the contact – but almost as if it’s against your will, you nestle into him. Closer to him. A prey animal knows when it’s being protected, after all – even if it doesn’t know, yet, that he’s the predator.
“We’re a bit busy here,” he says, keeping his tone affable with a knife-sharp edge. The girl opens her mouth, as if she’s going to protest – but Toji grins, his eyes darkening, his mouth tilting to show just a little bit too much teeth. He lets himself draw himself up a little taller, so that his breadth and his height and the taut muscles beneath his tight shirt are unarguable. Your friend falters, shoots you a look, and then shrugs.
“F-fine,” she says, “I’ll go on my own--”
She walks away, pouting, storm clouds rising off of her. You’re trembling imperceptibly (adorable) – he thinks this might be the first time you’ve ignored one of your friends. Eager to please little thing, he supposes – the kind of person who wants to be liked and will do almost anything to keep it that way, with big doe eyes and a trembling lip and your chest thrust out unconsciously.
Oh, he will ruin you, and you’ll thank him for it afterwards.
“Sorry if I’m oversteppin’ my boundaries there,” he says to you, and you look at him with your eyes big and wide and wet your lips, his cock giving an answering throb. You breathe very softly;
“N-no, thank you, it’s . . . it’s nice to not have to deal with them, for once--”
Toji leans further into you, his arm not leaving your shoulders – close enough that his breath tickles the shell of your ear, and your brain short-circuits at a handsome older man leaning so close and intimately to you.
“You don’t wanna stay here, though, do ya?” His other hand is suddenly on your leg, calloused fingertips brushing the soft skin of your thigh. Your heart skips a beat, your body reacting – threads of heat sewing themselves into knots between your thighs. “You wanna split?”
His eyes do not stray to the clock behind the bar, but he estimates it’s been about eleven minutes. Longer than he was expecting, but – as you bite your lip and stand up, letting his fingertips drag dangerously close to the part of you between your legs, Toji decides it’s worth it.
His place is nothing special. For a man as well-paid as he is, you’d expect something a little classier, maybe – but for a man with the kind of profession Toji Fushiguro has, he doesn’t spend much time in it. He’s too busy travelling to care about it beyond anything other than a place to crash, eat, and bring home his conquests. And you don’t seem disgusted by it as he pushes you roughly into the room, arm locking around your waist, mouth dipping to taste you – so Toji doesn’t worry about it too much.
You’re still trembling against him, your entire body thrumming with energy that you’re not used to – but that all works to his advantage. It works to the advantage of directing you into his room, until your back hits the bed with a soft ‘whoomph’ of air and Toji is kneeling over you, your eyes big and wide and blown as they look up at him.
You’d been so easy to convince back here. You’d made a couple of quiet whispers about how you shouldn’t, the way that good girls like you do – but his fingers had cupped your cheek and his body had pressed against yours and he’d smiled that dangerous knife-edge smile and you’d been putty in his hands, trembling kneed and so very adaptable as you’d walked beside him with your breath unsteady in your chest at your own daring.
Now, though, with a man’s bed behind you and a man’s cock digging into your stomach where he has you caged underneath him, things are beginning to feel far more real. You take another shuddering breath, not meeting his eyes as you whisper;
“I—I haven’t--”
Oh, fuck. If you knew what those little words did to him – if you could have heard the monster roaring in his chest at how excited he was that he’d not only get to utterly ruin you, but to get to be the first one to do it . . . He’d let himself hope, based on your way of holding yourself all demure and prim, that you’d be a virgin, but to hear it from your own lips with your skin rapidly heating up under the confession.
“That’s alright, sweetheart,” Toji practically coos at you, as his big fingers go to your shirt, tugging it off with expert precision. “I ain’t gonna break you—”
(Well. Not in any way you aren’t going to beg for.)
Breath caught in your throat as your bra is unclipped, the lacy garment dropped onto the floor. His own shirt follows – you can barely stop yourself ogling him, the firm abdominal muscles, the scars across his pectorals. You can tell, based on how many scars he’s bearing, just how dangerous the man above you must be.
The one like a starburst is a bullet scar, you’re pretty sure. The one wrapping around his side is too big to be anything but a knife or a sword – this is a man involved in something dangerous, something shady – and even that isn’t enough to get you to ask him to stop.
Staring down at your newly exposed breasts, Toji can’t resist leaning in; sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the sensitive bud, lapping at it until your back arches and you whimper so prettily that it goes straight through him and straight to his cock. The wet kisses trail back up to your neck, blunt teeth tugging at your skin, sucking quickly stinging bruise marks into the skin so that everybody will know what this cute little virgin was up to last night--
A rough tug to your earlobe makes you moan. A nip to your lower lip makes you practically mewl. And his rough fingertips pushing up your skirt to your waist, letting his fingers dig into your plush thighs so hard that there’s no way you won’t be marked with fingerprints tomorrow – that makes you whine.
“You like bein’ pushed around a little bit, cutie?” The pet name, again, has blood rushing to your face and heat rushing to between your legs. You’re suddenly so very aware of how slick you are, how your underwear is clinging to the folds of your sex. How much of that is his fingers and how much of it is his voice and how much of it is how exposed you are in front of him, you don’t know – but you bite your lip and avert your gaze, and this just seems to spur him on. Both of you know the answer: yes. Yes, you do like being pushed around a little bit--
“These are soaking wet,” he tells you, as the matching lacy underwear to your bra is peeled off of you. He readjusts himself, grabbing your thigh and pressing your knee against your chest so that he can move his hips between your two legs as well as get a proper look at what you’ve been hiding beneath the tiny skirt – he lets out a low whistle, those green eyes greedily drinking you in like you’re a painting hung in an art gallery. “Well, look at you. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
He sees how the compliment makes you squirm at the same time as it makes your cute little hole, exposed thanks to the stretch of your leg, flutter around nothing. He might break you if he doesn’t prepare you properly; you’re so small, and it’s been a real long time since he bedded a virgin--
One of his fingers drags through your slick with no preamble, brushing your fluttering hole, and the noise catches in your throat – halfway between a whimper and a soft sigh, a noise that does not serve to do anything but make him repeat the motion, gathering your glimmering arousal on the same thick digit. He brings it to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste you.
“Mm, you should taste yourself,” he says to you, eyes glinting. “You’re like honey, sweetheart--” Toji doesn’t wait for you to say yes or no. His finger pushes past your lips, so you’re forced to taste yourself on his fingertips, brushing over your tongue. His eyes focus very deeply on you, like you’re the only thing in his orbit worth paying attention to. “Why don’t you give my finger a suck, darlin’? You’ll want it as wet as you can get it--”
Not that you’re not plenty wet enough. But there’s something so endearing about the feel of your tongue hesitantly licking at him, the shine of your eyes. If he wasn’t hard enough to cut diamonds, he would have you suck his cock first, if only to see those pretty lips wrapped around his shaft and to hear you choke a little bit, to see your makeup go runny and messy and ruined--
“Atta girl,” he says, roughly, pulling his finger out (the trail of drool sends another of those throbs of heat through him). The finger drags over your slit again, parting the plump lips ��� and then, he’s pushing his finger inside you, your walls pulsing around him. You’re so fucking tight. He knows you weren’t lying about being a virgin – the gasp that dies in your throat, the hand that tangles in his bedsheets, the little lift of your hips to help him along – all of those are things that are entirely sensation responses, not in the least calculated, and Toji loves that.
The finger pumps in and out of you, helped along by your slick, until he can press another alongside it and scissor them gently, stretching out your channel in preparation for what you’re going to take in a matter of minutes. Your teeth keep digging into your bottom lip, as if you’re afraid to make too much of a noise – he chuckles as he brushes your swollen clit with his thumb.
“C’mon,” he growls, “don’t hold out on me. Lemme hear you--”
Oh, you’re so embarrassed – but you’re also, he can tell, the kind of girl who can’t resist an order. You let your mouth relax, drop open – and next time his thumb rubs firmly across your clit, the noise is caught only by the ceiling above you both. He makes some little noise of praise that you can’t fully discern, because now he’s started pulling forth your pleasure he doesn’t want to stop. Three fingers. His thumb, toying with your clit, rubbing firm circles with it as he feels your channel clench and quiver around his fingers. He rubs at the textured spot on your inner walls and you groan, your other hand gripping his forearm, your brow forming sweat. Your hips are circling, needy, in search of more stimulation.
“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” Toji asks you, his voice like cigarettes and leather. “C’mon. Let me see-- let me feel your pretty cunt clench--”
Something about the dirty words pushes you over the edge and you tumble down a dark hole, fireworks exploding inside of you, stars bursting into being behind your eyelids as pleasure washes over you in great waves. You soak Toji’s fingers, your walls sucking him in deeper and deeper.
Your breath comes in great pants, the aftershocks of your orgasm still gently rippling through you even as Toji pulls his fingers out of you. You look up at the man as he adjusts himself with his other hand, as if in a haze – and as if in a haze, when he roughly pushes those three fingers back into your mouth, you suckle on them with your mind and thoughts all misty. All you can think about is him. That’s what he wanted, anyway – cute little demure virgin, cock drunk even without him fucking you properly – he breaks girls like you on the regular, but you might be one of his favourites.
He tugs down his pants enough to reveal his flushed cock, curving to lay against his stomach, hard and leaking precome from a reddened tip. Your eyes widen (he always loves that moment), as you realise why he took pains to prepare you with his fingers.
“Whaddya think?” He asks you, teasing, wrapping his fist around the shaft. Even his big hands around it do nothing to make it look smaller, and you barely realise that you’re staring until he slaps your thighs with it, streaking his own wetness all over you. “You’ll give a man a complex, sweetheart--”
“I-I don’t have much to compare it to,” you say, desperately, heated and needy even though you literally just came. You want him inside you. You never thought you’d be so easily broken down into wanting to be fucked, but here you are – something primal inside of you is awoken by the size of his cock and the glitter in his eyes and the sculpted muscle, and you want to be desecrated. “Y-you look big--”
He laughs at that. Yeah, you definitely don’t have much to compare it to if that’s your take-away. Still. It’s cute, how you’ve spread your legs a little wider, how you’re not hiding the fact you’re looking at him like he’s some kind of angel who’s finally granted you a taste of the celestial city.
“I feel big too,” he tells you, with a smirk that rattles you to your core. “Wanna find out?”
When you nod, he grins – those big hands take a hold of your thighs, pressing both of your knees to your chest this time. He takes a moment to enjoy you in this position – those wide eyes, the lewd splay of your legs revealing the glimpse of your cunt still tantalisingly shining with the remnants of your orgasm. You squirm under his hungry gaze, exposed – and that does nothing to quell the hunger that seems to be thrumming through Toji, with every clench and wriggle.
“Good,” he tells you, rubbing his cock through the mess you’ve made of yourself, making sure the head nudges your clit and he can see the way you shiver. “You’re bein’ such a good girl for me--”
He catches on your entrance and you let out a keen. With your knees pressed to your chest, you’re unable to get a grip on Toji’s shoulders, and you have to console yourself with fisting the bedsheets beneath you (rumpled even before you’d ended up there).
The position he’s got you in means that you feel every ridge of his cock, every vein, every throb – inch by inch, as he sheaths himself slowly inside you. He can’t help but watch as your jaw goes slack, as your eyes cloud with the feeling of him entering you – as tears bead in the corner of your eyes at the burn and stretch--
Oh, fuck, the tears. He wonders if you feel the way that his cock seems to harden at that, at how pretty you look all glassy-eyed and helpless and trying to take him. He’s maybe two thirds in and almost at the limit of forward motion, but you whimper, letting your head fall back--
“P-please,” you say, “I—I can take it--”
He laughs, low and dangerous. He leans in, brushes his lips over your sweat slicked forehead. His tone is syrupy sweet when he speaks, as he angles his hips just so that he sinks another aching inch into the sweet kiss of your tight cunt.
“Oh, I know you will, sweetheart,” he murmurs, sounding almost like a threat. His eyes flash downwards, to see how tightly you’re clinging to him – how big his cock looks, disappearing into your slick sex. How the glistening ring of your need coats him. Just a bit further – watching himself claim you is almost hypnotic.
He wants to see you on your hands and knees, watch his cock stretch you out that way. He wants to see you gag and choke and drool around his cock, wants to see your small hands wrap around him, wants to have you in every position until you’re so fucked silly you can barely move--
But for now, he hilts inside of you, his balls slapping against your slick skin. His face splits into a smile as his eyes travel back up, to the bulge in your stomach that he knows is from just how big his cock is, to your thighs trembling even with him keeping them prone against you. You’re so cute. The tears have spilled past the rim of your eyelids now, wetting your cheeks – they’re so maddeningly sexy, on your pretty face. He’s not going to last half as long as he wants to, he doesn’t think – not when you’ve been driving him to distraction since the moment he laid eyes on you.
He can barely remember he killed a man less than an hour ago.
That’s old news, unimportant compared to how your walls flutter around him as he pulls out. Unimportant compared to the arch of your back, the rock of your breasts, the great gasps of air.
He’s not a kind man, but he doesn’t go out of his way to be an asshole to his conquests – so he lets you get used to the rolling rhythm of his hips, slowly. He doesn’t piston his hips in and out of you, not at first. He lets the slow drag of his cock on your sensitive inner walls make you shiver, make you gasp and moan and whimper. And only after he’s earned the light hump of your hips against his, searching for the sensation yourself, does he let himself fuck you the way he wants to.
He wants to record the moan-squeak-whimper of surprise as he begins to pump his hips in earnest. It’s a noise he’s heard before, but coming from your pretty mouth it seems all the more potent. His hips jerk into you and out of you, the noise of skin slapping against skin very loud in the bedroom. The slick noises of his cock driving in and out of your tight cunt would be shaming if it didn’t feel so good, if you didn’t get a shock of want every time his body ground against your clit on the inner thrust.
You lose track of time, with the dangerous man you met at the bar bent over you. He mouths greedily at your lips, seeming to treasure every noise you make and swallow it down his throat like a sweet candy – he bites at your neck, at your throat, the grip on your thighs never faltering for a moment. You can do nothing but let yourself be folded in half, and let him fuck you like an animal.
That seems right. He’s rutting into you deep and hungrily, almost feral in his enjoyment of your body. He drops one of your legs suddenly, letting it hit the mattress, readjusting his hips so that one of his hands can dive between you and--
He’s playing with your clit again. The pads of his fingers are rough, and you wonder if he handles a gun like the one that gave him that starburst scar. You wonder how dangerous these fingers are, the ones that were buried inside you and are now coaxing your poor, swollen clit to another orgasm.
“Come on, baby girl,” he growls, pressing harder, making your thighs jump with tension. “Wanna feel you come with my cock buried in that pretty little cunt--”
You whimper, throwing your head to the side and letting a cry out into the pillow like a mewl. Toji would be mad that you’d stifled the cute little noise, if the sight of you submissively showing him your neck (one of your softest parts) hadn’t scratched an itch for dominance inside of him – and if the feel of your body clenching and pulsating around his cock wasn’t currently finally pushing him over the edge, making him judder his hips against you as he shoots rope after rope of his come directly inside of you.
Your shoulders are heaving with the effort of the orgasm that’s still ricocheting through you, your toes curling, your body clenching and soaking Toji’s cock with your orgasm. You don’t even realise he’s come inside of you until he pulls out slightly and you wince at the feel of that same come, his load far too thick and full to not have a bit of it trickling out of your stretched hole. Toji admires the look of it; darkened from his persistent thrusts, your syrupy slick mixing with the thick pearly white of his seed.
“Y-you came inside me,” you say, your voice half-clogged with the tears that are still glistening on your cheeks (a low pulse of heat in his groin. His refractory period has always been short – and with a cute little thing like you in his bed, who can blame him for wanting to fuck you again almost immediately?). “I—I don’t even know your name--”
Oh, shit. He’d quite forgotten. He knows yours from the girl in the bar (that already feels like a lifetime ago). He can hear the uncertainty in your voice, the kind of confusion that seems to say ‘good girls don’t do this, I would never do this, who is this stranger wearing my skin with a man’s come making their thighs sticky?’. It’s part of the process of breaking that Toji loves so much.)
“Sure did, darlin’,” he says, absent-mindedly scooping some of the come that’s oozed out of you and pressing it back inside. He wins a whimper for that, one that’s definitely not ‘stop’. “You’re still so sensitive.”
If you notice he doesn’t give you his name in response to your question, you don’t say anything. As his fingers gently circle your entrance again, as his hand brushes your thigh and you shiver, he sees that you unconsciously spread your legs even further apart for his explorations. Oh, you’re so cute.
One lone finger, gently grazing your clit, makes your hips jerk, your voice break in a way that’s all needy. You look at Toji through those tear-darkened eyes, your lips bitten to puffiness, your lipstick and mascara and eyeliner all messed up on your face from crying and biting your lip and drooling. Adorable. Girls like you always look best like this, their polish scuffed when Toji’s taken them to bed and stripped away all of their defences.
Girls like you, Toji always manages to get to move their hips against his ministrations. He always manages to have them gasp, whimper, break--
You’re not the first one in his bed, and you probably won’t be the last. But as he grins at you and asks;
“Well, sweetheart. I’ll give you a choice. Y’wanna take a shower and I’ll call you a cab or somethin’ and you can head off home? Or,” he drops his voice low, drags his eyes over your prone form, brushes his lips over your stomach. They flutter against the soft skin, his breath a hot wash that makes goose flesh prickle all over you. “Y’wanna spend the night?”
And you bite your lip before nodding, nervously running your hand through his hair, your body near trembling with need--
Well. As he asks that and you answer, he really does think you might be his favourite one ever.
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todoscript · 3 years
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SEQUEL TO  “don’t forget it”
SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.
pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
genre: fluff, very little angst
word count: 5.4k+
warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury
author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!
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Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.
It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.
“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.
At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.
Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.
Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.
At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.
However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.
.
.
“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”
“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.
“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.
“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”
“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn���t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.
“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.
“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.
“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”
Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.
“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.
“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”
“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.
“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.
The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.
“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.
“Yeah. So?”
“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.
At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”
“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”
“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.
“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”
There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.
Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.
“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”
“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.
“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.
“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”
“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.
Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.
Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.
“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”
.
.
The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.
No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.
You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.
Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.
Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?
The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.
It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.
Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.
Your nose wrinkles like you’ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.
“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.
“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.
Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”
Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.
“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”
“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.
Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.
Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.
Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.
“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.
You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.
The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”
The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.
Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.
In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.
Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.
“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.
“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.
“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”
Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.
Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.
You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.
“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”
“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.
While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.
“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.
Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.
“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.
Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”
The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.
Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.
...Odd.
“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.
You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.
.
.
The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.
The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.
That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.
The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.
Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.
Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.
Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,
“Hey, Y/n, I–”
“Katsuki–”
Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.
“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.
“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.
Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.
“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.
“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.
“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.
Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.
“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.
“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.
“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.
Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.
“—tsuki! ...old… n!”
“...god—! I’m so dead!”
A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.
.
.
The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.
He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.
Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?
His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.
“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.
“You aren’t hurt?”
You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.
“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.
“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”
You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.
“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”
“...You gotta be joking, right?”
Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.
Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.
“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.
You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”
You give him a look. “...Liar.”
Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”
“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”
Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?
You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”
“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”
You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”
Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.
“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.
“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.
“What?”
“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”
876 notes · View notes
lily-drake · 3 years
Text
Fantasy/Twin AU
Sorry for being late and not posting for a bit. Was a bit burnt out and had writer block. I will go back to write the other days soon though. Also, sorry, I suck at writing wing aus, this is my first time doing it.
Earth J-236, an earth full of mystical life.  An earth where everyone is born with wings.  Your wings represented who you are; well not really, but that’s what people believed.  If your wings were bright and colorful then you were obviously an amazing person, but if your wings were darker or had little color, then you have great evil in your soul.  Marinette was born seconds after her twin, Damian.  It takes a few years before your wings fully grow in, usually to about 6.  But with the accelerated growth serums used in their artificial wombs, it took them till they were three for their feathers to sprout.  Damian’s were black like their father’s with subtle hints of red like their mothers.  Marinette’s were pure black, devoid of any color, and her mother was so proud of that.  She was the League’s charm, for it’s believed that anyone with pure black wings was pure evil.  Her only purpose being to protect her brother, nothing else was more important than her brother’s safety.  She would die for him, because if he died she might as well have died as well as her only purpose for living would be gone.
Damian glared at his sister, his wings ruffling in annoyance.  She was hovering close to him again, and she never said anything to him ever unless she was completely sure they were alone.  He did not believe that his sister was or could ever be, “pure evil” just because of her wings.  In fact, her mannerisms are the exact opposite of what people believed.  She, in her own ways, is caring, sweet, and protective.  He had seen, and helped, her nurse a baby bird that had fallen from its nest back to health.  She would often place little things around the base for only him to find such as some extra baklava, a throwing knife, a drawing of someone, beads, or other random objects.  Grandfather had always been extra hard on her, making sure she wouldn’t betray them, she wouldn’t become “evil enough to lose herself”.  Sometimes she would sneak into his room at night, and it tore him apart to see silent tears run down his little sister's face as small black raven feathers fell onto the floor from her days worth of training.  He had been learning how to fly, her wings had been clipped every two or three months so she could not leave the base.  She had learned long ago to control her facial and wing expressions, but he could always see the droop in them and the sad shine in her eyes as she stood on the ground while he was in the air.
________
Marinette looked up and watched as the fiery Phoenix flew through the air setting Nada Parabat aflame.  She didn’t feel much as she watched her grandfather get blown up.  She only felt great anxiety and fear as she could not find her brother.  She loved her brother, and if her job was to cause chaos, she would make sure she could prevent it from hurting him.  Grandfather had told her about how cursed she was, it’s why they had to be extra tough on her, and she understood that.  They couldn’t have her hurting anyone they needed, only the people they wanted gone.  She was angry at grandfather yesterday for taking some of her feathers for failing a task, this must have been her fault.  She didn’t want to hurt her brother, her wings had only proven nothing but destruction.  She had to leave now, then she could go where no one else was, and she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone else.  So like a coward, like the disgrace she was, she ran.  She kept her wings tight against her back making sure that no one could grab them as she ran.  An arrow hit one of them, but she didn’t have time to think about the burning pain as she ran and ran and ran farther and farther and farther away.  Tears ran down her cheeks as she silently prayed that her brother would be okay.
She didn’t know how long she ran, but she knew it must have been a really long time as she had just collapsed from exhaustion in the woods.  She looked back at her wings and slowly and carefully spread them out and hissed in pain from where the arrow had pierced her left wing.  Drops of red slowly dripped down her feathers and dropped on the ground.  She quickly closed them and made sure they were as small and put away as possible.  She looked up at the trees made of brass with different colored jade leaves.  Pearl-like apples growing on a few.  She watched a baby griffon follow it’s mother in the distance, turtle ducks waddling to a pond somewhere nearby, deer nibbling on plants, she could hear the rustling of leaves and branches from unseen creatures and everything was getting more blurry and dark.  She was cold, it felt very cold.  She slowly unwound her wings from around herself and closed them tightly around her, but that didn’t stop the chill that went deep down to her bones.  She was a failure, a mistake, she would only cause harm.  Here she wouldn’t be able to do that, and if she died here, then no one would be hurt by her again, and wasn’t that such a nice thought.
________
Tom and Sabine had finally been able to hire some trusted employees and explore places in Tibet.  They had made lots of money over the years with their successful bakery, and they thought now was a better time than ever to go on a real honeymoon as they hadn’t been able to afford it before when the bakery had first started.  It was during one of these forest explorations when they saw a trail of little drops of blood and felt they needed to follow it.  What they discovered broke their hearts.  There lying on the cold forest floor was what appeared to be a child hugging their very black wings around them.  They knew of the rumors and myths of black winged people, but they did not care.  They believed that their wings were not what made them evil, but rather situations put into their lives.  Sabine quickly checked for a pulse, and though it was slow she sighed in relief when she felt it.  She quickly handed the small unconscious girl to Tom and they both quickly went to the nearest hospital.  How could someone leave such a small child all alone to die like that?  It looked as if she had been injured if the dried blood on the small fragile wings said anything.  And worst of all, upon closer examination, they had been clipped, recently too.
As soon as they arrived they carried the small girl to the front and demanded that they take her in.  They waited until the doctors were done and gave them permission to visit claiming to be the girl’s adopted parents.  It wasn’t technically a lie, they would be soon even if Sabine had to force it to happen.
When Marinette woke up she knew something was off.  She was under a blanket, she’s never been given a blanket before.  The sent of bleach and chemicals were everywhere and it hurt her nose.  There was a beeping noise next to her that was giving her a headache.  She didn’t know where she was, and that was bad.  She opened her eyes a small fraction so nobody could see she was awake and looked around as much as she could.  The entire room was white and there were bright lights.  There were two strange people waiting in chairs near where she was laying.  She wondered if they were the ones who brought her here.  Slowly she opened them up all the way and silently sat up.  It’s best to make no noise, then she wouldn’t disturb anyone.
“Oh sweety, I’m so glad you’re awake.”
The woman said in a cheery and relieved manner, but she just continued to watch and study them silently.  Her wings felt stiff against her back, though she made sure they didn’t move or give anything away.
“How are you feeling dear?”
Silence greeted them, and her face remained as impassive as ever.  They wanted something, why else would they save a freak like her?  What were they aiming for here?
“Did your parents hurt you?  If so, we can take you away from them.”
Marinette’s eyes widened only a fraction.  These were randoms, innocents if you will.  They obviously had no idea who she was, and they seemed unafraid of her and her wings.  Did they not know how dangerous she was, didn’t they know that black wings meant she was cursed?  The man and the woman looked at eachother and spread their wings.  Marinette was shocked, but she wouldn’t show it.
The large man had light brown eagle wings while the small woman had white and black woodpecker wings.  She wanted to reach out and touch the feathers, but then something bad would happen to them, so she held her hands together.
“We don’t care what your wing color is.  Your wings don’t define who you are, it’s what you do with your life that does.  Can we please help you?”
The woman said sincerely as she gripped the man’s hand in hers.  She felt a pull to them, something telling her to accept.  She didn’t want to hurt them though.  But maybe she could protect them?  Maybe she could find a way around her curse and make sure they don’t get hurt?  Slowly she nodded and they both looked so happy when she did.  She hoped that she wouldn’t hurt them, they didn’t deserve to be cursed.  Maybe if she didn’t touch them things would be ok.  If she didn’t let them touch her then it wouldn’t spread.  She could do this!
________
Apparently she couldn’t do it because this is a very affectionate family, and the first thing that happened before they let her sleep on their —super fluffy, pure Heaven— bed was give her a hug.  She had made sure that her wings were tucked under her clothes and tight against her back the entire time though.  So they didn’t touch her wings, so maybe that meant they wouldn’t be cursed.
It was strange, because the next morning they went to a courthouse, and she was adopted.  She hadn’t said anything throughout the entire event, she just watched and observed what people did.  They stayed in Tibet for another few days before they flew to Paris, France.  This was supposed to be her new home.  The city of light and love.  Maybe here, it would stop her curse.  It was so bright that it had to block out her darkness.  She still always carried one of her knives with her, she felt naked without one.  Tom and Sabine seemed to understand somehow, and said that it was her business and that was enough for them till she was ready to talk about it.  It was strange not to be interrogated for now wanting to tell someone something.
Marinette had lived with the Dupain-Chengs for about a year now.  It was strange really, they were honest business people and their joy was always sincere.  They didn’t question much of what she did even though it was probably weird to them.  They didn’t punish her for messing up like the league did, and they never went near her wings without permission.  They never plucked her feathers, and they would often ask if they could preen her wings.  She would refuse every time, but she would often wonder what it would be like to have someone else touch them.  Think of what it would be like if she weren’t cursed.  When it was time for school she would always wrap them around herself then tape them so no one would see or be able to touch them.  Things were finally going well, she couldn’t risk it now!
There was a blonde brat that liked to act like she was above her, and because her wings were always hidden with no explanation she made sure everyone knew that she was “wingless”.  She didn’t care though, being wingless was better than being evil winged.  She never really said anything in class or to other students, she never gave much reaction keeping her stoic face up.  The brat left her alone soon after for being a, “ridiculous!  Utterly ridiculous freak.”  And nobody was the wiser.
Being Lady Chaos was….the best thing that ever happened to her if she was being honest.  Even with pure black wings, people still thought she was a hero.  She never flew, she was scared she’d fall and die.  She was never allowed to fly before, and even if she technically can do so now, it’s not worth the risk.  Her partner though, Mr. Bug has gold, red, and black wings.  He can fly through the air with ease she wished she desperately had.  Sometimes after patrol she would go to the very top of the Eiffel Tower and just stretch her wings out as far out as she could.  She would close her eyes as the wind blew past her and ruffled her feathers and pretend that she was soaring through the air.
________
Year three of living with Tom and Sabine she was comfortable talking to them more, and with Plagg there to control her chaos she finally let them touch her wings.  It was strange really, she never took care of her wings, never cared enough to.  When she first felt the hands on her feathers she had to will herself not to draw them back for fear of them plucking or ripped out.  But Sabine’s hands were so gentle and smooth that they seemed to move on their own and go closer to her touch.  Sabine would smile and hum as she gently preened the dark raven feathers that were soft and smooth.  Maybe she could finally tell the class that she wasn’t wingless soon, and maybe they would be okay with it.
No, they would not as she learned from listening to her classmates talk to the new student, Lila Rossi.  To them Lady Chaos was the only good black winged person because she was chasing after Mr. Bug to earn his affections.  Lady Chaos was obviously evil before she met Mr. Bug and she would always be evil no matter what she did.  Marinette felt nauseous that she ever thought about telling them the truth.  She had never felt more betrayed than she felt now, because she had given them her trust, and they broke it without even knowing it.  After that day, she made extra sure that her wings were hidden and wore a bit thicker clothing just in case.  Tom and Sabine are a little worried about it, but she calmed them pretty quickly.  She was fine, it wasn’t like they were all great friends to begin with.  That’s probably why everyone sides with Lila and decides that she’s a terrible person.
She had tried leaving her past behind, pretending that she didn’t hurt and kill people.  Pretend that she wasn’t a weapon.  She tried to push it far away, but it wasn’t enough.  It was never enough.  She had abandoned her brother.  She betrayed the league.  She did unspeakable things to please someone who would never care about her, just her use.  The city of lights seems duller than usual, it was probably her fault Hawkmoth came to be in the first place, afterall she was cursed to bring ruin everywhere she went.
________
Lila and Chloe thought it would be a great idea to bring everybody to the Crime Capital of the World for their senior trip.  Probably to watch people flounder and worry when things go wrong, which they definitely would.  She had stopped Hawkmoth a month before the trip, but Mr. Bug took all the credit for it. The arrogant self centered bas*.  Adrien kept giving her side glances that always made her feel uncomfortable and slightly disgusted.  During school he would try to touch her with every chance he’d get.  He almost discovered her wings at one point.  She couldn’t do anything about it before because of the stupid your-rich-so-do-whatever-the-heck-you-want treatment.  Now that Adrien’s family fortune is gone, and people don’t trust him because of what his dad did, so he has to be more careful.  He now kept some distance, which she was extremely grateful for.
She would have broken his hand, she had imagined it plus other things more than once.  But then Tom and Sabine would get in trouble by Gabriel for her actions.  They didn’t deserve that, they had been nothing but good to her since they found her abandoned in that forest.
She would be fine though, as long as Lila had a grip on his arm and she was in the back, away from him.  She listened to their tour guide, Richard Grayson, talk about the history and importance of WE.  The architecture was brilliant really, and you couldn’t blame her for having to draw and sketch it.  She often thought of Damian when she sketched.  She used to leave drawings for him around the base, little things that expressed her adoration for him without getting too close.  She wondered if he was still with the league, had he escaped, did he die?  She hoped that wasn’t the case, she hoped that he would be alive and well.  Bright orange and white wings nearly slapped her in the face if she hadn’t stopped right before the movement had occurred.
“Oh my gosh!  I’m so sorry Marinette!  Sometimes my wings just spasm out of control like that!  I didn’t hurt you did I?”
Marinette just silently rolled her eyes and took a few steps backward and watched the class glare at her waiting for her to comfort the liar.  She would never lower herself to do that.  She was still an Al Ghul afterall, even if she did leave it behind when she fled.  She was thankful when lunch came, she waited far away from the line and watched silently from a dark corner to make sure no one would hurt her.  Then she felt it, a hand touching her back feeling for something.  She quickly and instinctively grabbed the arm and twisted it behind them pinning it behind their back at a painful angle.
“Ukhti, let go.”
Marinette knew that voice.  She remembered that name and she could feel her heart stop.  The lunchroom was silent as they watched the small bluenette silently and quickly release the “Ice Prince”. Everyone watched with bated breaths to see what would happen next.  The boy’s wings were ruffled in agitation and fear.
“Where are they?”
He demanded.  Marinette knew what he was talking about, she simply wrapped her arms around herself and turned her head away definitely.
“Why are you hiding them, Malak?  Please.”
Marinette could feel her wings moving in defiance to what her brain was saying.  They wanted to be shown, they wanted to be touched by her brother again.  She looked down and slowly uncrossed her arms from her body.  Damian gently took her hands in his and looked directly into her eyes.
“Everything will be ok, Taw'ami.”
She slowly nodded and with shaky fingers reached under her hoodie and began to slowly unwrap the tape that kept her wings confined.  When all the tape was in her hands she hesitantly removed her hoodie and let her wings unfold from around herself and into the open.  She had made shirts that let her wings slip through slits in the back that were tailored to her wings specifically and were most comfortable.  Damian marveled at how big her raven wings had grown and how shiny they were.  He reached out a hand slowly and gently ran his fingers down the inky black that was her wings.
Shouts of fear and accusations were thrown at her, mostly from her class.  She didn’t listen though, she just observed.  The tour guide was coming over now, probably to kick her out.  He had such lovely wings though,  they were a deep navy blue that looked similar to black with dark red and light blue running through them.  They looked so well kept and soft.
“Damian, what’s happening?  Who is this?”
“Grayson, meet my twin sister, Marinette.”
“You have a twin?!”
Richard exclaimed loudly, drawing even more attention.  The insults and jeers stopped after that.  She looked over at the class and smirked when she saw their shock and confusion.
“Yes, keep up.”
Damian said brusquely.  They must know each other well then.
“Come, we must take her away from these imbeciles and take her to father.”
Damian grabbed her wrist and tugged, her quickly falling into line like she used to when he did this.
“Now tell me Ukhti, have you been taking care of yourself?”
She nodded as they came to an elevator and walked into it with Richard right behind them.  Marinette felt her feathers fluff up nervously.  She wasn’t in control of them right now, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Damian ran a hand gently down her right wing trying to smooth it down.
“Things will be fine Marinette.  Just watch, father will be glad to meet you.”
She looked him in the eyes and squeezed her hands together.
“No, I have not told him about you.  Things will be fine though.”
He seemed to understand her weird way of communicating, she still didn’t understand how he did.  Richard cleared his throat and both turned to look at him.
“Sorry to interrupt, but um…I’m Dick, I’m Damian’s, and yours I guess, oldest brother.  It’s nice to meet you.”
He spread his wings in a welcoming way that meant and showed safety and peace. Her wings involuntarily rose up as well to reciprocate his greeting.  When the door to the elevator opened again she quickly forced her wings to hide on her back trying desperately to keep them from sight.  Damian didn’t seem to like it, but he just grabbed her wrist and dragged her to a large office room.  The plaque on the door read “CEO Bruce Wayne”.  Their father was Bruce Wayne?!  She couldn’t go in there, she couldn’t curse him and ruin his life.  No, she had already messed up at the league, and she was just barely not messing up with Tom and Sabine, she would definitely ruin Bruce Wayne’s life, and she would not allow that to happen.  She tugged at his grip desperately trying to get away.
“Marinette, stop.  Your wings are not cursed, that was a lie.”
Marinette shook her head and kept trying to escape the iron-like grip.
“Do you not trust me anymore?”
She froze at that and quickly shook her head.  Of course she trusted him, it was her that shouldn’t be trusted.
“Good, because we’re going in now.”
And that was that, because the door was now open and she was being dragged into the office room where their father and another boy with large bags under his eyes stared at them.  Damian puffed up his chest and feathers letting his strong, big, and brilliant wings rise into the air.
“Father, this is your daughter, my twin, Marinette Erebus Al Ghul-Wayne.”
They both stared at her in shock and Marinette slowly and cautiously raised her despicable black wings into the air.  Both stared at them in awe before looking back at her, but she didn’t meet their eyes.  She didn’t want to see the disgust and hatred in their eyes.
After a few moments she looked up and saw their wings greeting hers like Dick’s had.  Their father’s wings were a mix of black and dark grey alternating the color in each row of feathers.  The other boy’s were black at the top and slowly turned to red at the bottom.  But they were welcoming her openly, so that must mean something!  Well, it was time to get to know her father, she guessed.
296 notes · View notes
jae-daddy · 3 years
Text
Duff (11)
im jaebum au series 
one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve masterlist
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pairing: im jaebum x reader  genre: angst, mature, smut  plot: you are the duff and guys use you to get close to your best friend, heather, and turns out Jaebum is no exception, but as time goes on the tension between you and your best friend’s unofficial boyfriend grows a/n: it’s been a while, my bad. but the next chapter is going to spicyyyyyyyy. not edited, hope yall enjoy it <3 stay safe out there <3
Your jaw dropped as the driver drove through the gates and up the long driveway to Park Jinyoung’s mansion. You knew he was rich, but you didn’t know he was this rich. But even more than the vast wealth the Parks had, you were more taken by the decorations that started from the gate all the way up to the main entrance. 
You turned towards Jaebum who was watching you already. You felt the golden glow of the lights outside flow into the unlit car, and somehow you could see something glint in his dark eyes. 
“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it Mr Kim?” you looked out the window again, to see the sparkling lights making a rendition of Van Gough’s starry night. You smiled to yourself a bit, “It might be a bit cliche and basic, but starry night is my favourite piece of artwork.” 
The driver hummed in reply, saying something about taking a picture for his daughter.
Jaebum didn’t reply, and you didn’t mind. Him and you weren’t exactly on friendly speaking terms, well at least not in your books. 
Since that day in the office, Jaebum had tried to talk to you numerous of times, but you avoided him. You didn’t want to hear his empty apologies or empty excuses or empty flirty, or whatever meaningless, empty words he wanted to say to you because he was feeling bored. 
You didn’t even think he would pick you up today, but when you called up your driver, Jaebum had pulled up in his sleek black car. It was a moment that you seen in movies, where the male lead sees the female lead with her makeover for the first time, and he’s blown away. 
But Im Jaebum wasn’t blown away. He wasn’t even fazed, if anything he found you so unappealing that he couldn’t bear to look at you for more than two seconds without looking away in pain. 
Was he always such an asshole?
He probably was, but back then he was trying to charm you with his sweet words. Maybe, he was a sicko who liked girls who weren’t into him, and as soon as you showed him any interest he vanished into the night. 
The car stopped at the red carpet laid out at the entrance, and you began to check your outfit and lipstick for the last time before reaching for the door. Your hand was reaching for the handle when the door swung open, and a hand reached in for you. 
You placed your hand in theirs, and carefully got out of the car. 
You stepped out to find yourself chest to chest with Jaebum. His fingers gripping onto your fingers as you stared up at him. 
You cleared your throat and began taking a step away from him, when he reached out and pulled your body against his by your waist. Your hands laid flat against his chest, the black material feeling rich on your skin. HIs dark eyes drifted to your lips, before they looked away purposefully. 
You turned around to find the car driving off behind you that you were about to bump into. You looked up at Jaebum, your cheeks tainting pink, “Thanks.” 
“Watch where you’re going,” was all he replied, as he let you go. 
Your heart once again sank at the lack of endearment, but you ignored it and adjusted the dress before you began following Jaebum into the mansion. 
Jaebum was instantly surrounded by people. People lining up around him, trying to play it off as they waited for their turns for introductions. You were right next to Jaebum, introducing him to everyone. 
The first hour was spent just like that, making introductions and standing next to Jaebum and pretending like you were invisible. The other important people only gave you a passing glance before looking away, no one stared for too long. You weren’t worth their time. 
You didn’t mind though. 
You enjoyed the architecture of the building and the artworks hanging around the hall. This must have really been a castle at some point you concluded after an hour of staring at the walls. You wondered which kind of ruler lived here before, but you knew for certain whoever it was wasn’t a good person; no in power ever is. 
Jaebum and you had drifted away about fifteen minutes ago, but you kept an eye out for him. He was currently taking to Paul from work, so you thought he was in safe hands. You took another mini-sausage roll before washing it down with another glass of expensive champagne. 
You didn’t like that taste even though it was exquisite. All it did was remind you of the night Jinyoung engaged to that woman in front of you, after telling you he loved you a few hours ago. 
“I finally found you,” a deep voice spoke behind you. His voice fell over you like velvet, and you struggled to breath. 
You turned around, already annoyed, “What are you doing here, Jinyoung?”
“You’re casual and feisty today,” he chucked, moving to stand next to you. He picked up a mini-sausage and popped it into his mouth, before waving a hand around, “This is my party, incase you’ve forgotten, y/n.” 
You snorted, “How can I forget with this champagne? Tell me, was this your favourite before you chose her or did it happen after?” 
“Woah,” Jinyoung tried to take the glass from you, but you moved it out of his reach, “How many of those have you had?”
“None of your business,” you gave him a straight smile. “None of these people are drinking anything anyway. And I needed a drink, it’s just been so hard lately.” 
You leaned your head on his shoulder, but straightened your spine right away, “I’m not drunk, Jinyoung. I just don’t have the energy to fight or pretend, at least not with you, not tonight.” 
“I don’t know if that is a compliment or not,” Jinyoung clicked his tongue, playfully. ���I kind of like it when you fight with me.” 
“God, you’re such a perv, Jinyoung,” you groaned, and he laughed. 
“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand and gesturing to the dance floor. “Dance with me?” 
“No, thanks.”
“Why not?” 
“Are you sure you want to dance with me?” You asked him, with a knowing look. “I know this is a party, but I am still just an assistant here. Are you sure your reputation won’t hurt from dancing with someone like me? I’m not made of money like you, Jinyoung.” 
“Beauty and wealth are both welcomed here, y/n,” Jinyoung took your hand in his, “And you have a wealth of beauty, my dear.” 
He brought your hand to his face, his lips brushing over your knuckles. 
“Oh, right,” you chuckled, your heart sinking slightly. “You think I am pretty.”
Your gaze went to Im Jaebum who didn’t spare you a single glance. Your eyes fell on the girl he was talking to, and you couldn’t help but notice how different she was to you. You couldn’t but notice how different Jaebum looked talking to her; kind and well-mannered. 
“I’ve always found you beautiful, y/n,” Jinyoung said, drawing your attention back to him. “That’s why I was drawn to you in the beginning, and when I got to know you... well, I guess that was the end of me.” 
You laughed lightly as you placed your hand on his shoulder, and the other in his hand. His hands rested on the curve of your clothed hip. 
“But today,” he smiled at you, “You looked absolutely gorgeous.”
“Don’t exaggerate, Jinyoung. If you were so taken by me,” you laughed, teasingly, giving him a look. You continued your words turning sour, “You would’ve chosen me.” 
“You know how things were back then, y/n,” Jinyoung sighed, he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. He opened them to stare into yours with so much emotion, you couldn’t breathe. 
“I looked for you, you know,” he spoke over the music. You couldn’t blink or breath as you stared at Jinyoung. His brows creased as if he was rethinking a painful event. “After I decided to end the engagement... after I broke it off, I looked for you. I searched for you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.” 
“I- I went back home,” you whispered. You saw yourself laying in a pool of your vomit and urine, and your mother and father crying around your limp body. “I couldn’t stay here. Everyone was talking about you... it was too much.” 
“Y/n,” Jinyoung said, softly. You looked up to meet his gaze. “It’s nice to have you back. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 
“Jinyoung-” 
“May I cut in?” 
“Always interrupting us, isn’t he, y/n?” 
You turned to find Jaebum glaring holes into Jinyoung’s head. 
“What if I say no?” Jinyoung pouted, teasingly. Jaebum sighed, his patience running thin. You looked around to see people already turning this way. 
“Stop it,” you gritted through your teeth at the both of the them, your lips holding a smile. “People are starting to look.” 
“I’ll dance with him for a bit,” you smiled at Jinyoung, “Thank you Jinyoung.” 
Jinyoung smiled back at you before giving you a cheeky wink. You chuckled watching him walk away. 
“You both seem closer than last time,” Jaebum said from behind you. You shrugged stepping closer to him placing a hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand. You were holding Jinyoung the same way a few moments ago, but somehow this felt different. 
The soft velvet of his jacket, the heat of his skin, the short hair tickling your fingertips at the nape of his neck. It was all somehow more intense, more intimate. 
Jaebum’s warm hands wrapped around yours as he took another step closer towards you. HIs other hand rested on your waist, pulling you in closer as it rested on the small of your back. His thumb caressed the exposed skin from your dress and you drew in a sharp breath. 
You didn’t say anything as you looked up at him. His dark eyes bore into yours, his lips drawn and tight. His jaw clenched and sharp, his black eyelashes gently fluttering across his cheekbones. 
He was beautiful. 
He was a sin in this all black suit made to precision for him. His hair was styled in-between completely swept back and lazy natural. His lips were rosy pink, and even without his lip-ring you wanted to taste them between your lips. 
You leaned closer to him. HIs thumb gently caressing your back, electricity dancing up your spine making your head spin. You welcomed his minty breath falling over your lips, as your eyes fell to his lips. And to his neck, watching as he swallowed nervously. Your gaze fluttered up to meet his eyes fixed on your face. 
You looked away from him feeling your cheeks flush, “Are you having a good time tonight, sir?” 
Jaebum only hummed in reply, his dark eyes still trained on you. 
Your eyes met his intense gaze for a moment before looking away instantly, “It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?” 
“Yes, it is,” Jaebum said. You didn’t say anything more and bit your lip wondering if you should continue to dance with him or excuse yourself. 
You looked up at Jaebum, your hands letting go off him. 
Jaebum’s hand held yours tighter as he pulled you in closer by your waist. Your front was completely pressed against him now, and your body shivered as he leaned his lips close to your ear. 
You felt his warm breath caress the slope of your neck, and you closed your eyes letting the feeling sink deep within your bones. 
Jaebum drew his lips higher, his softness brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Thank you for everything, y/n.” 
You remained like that for a moment. Soaking in his presence, his heat, his touch, his breath, him somewhere deep inside your heart, and then you leaned back. 
“Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mr Im,” you smiled up at him. 
Jaebum stared at you with an unreadable expression as his lips parted. 
“You must be glad you’ll be getting a proper secretary now,” you laughed, but there was no humour between you two. 
“I might not stay.”
“I know,” you nodded, “But if you do, I think it’ll be the biggest win for the company.”
Jaebum might be an asshole, a player; a complete fuckboy. But he was also hardworking, intelligent and gave his all into his work and accomplished a lot within the last three months you were working with him. 
“Loosing you is probably the biggest loss,” he said, pausing for a moment. “For me.” 
“I’m sure there are more qualified then me for this job.” 
“But I only want you, y/n.” 
You breath got caught at his words. Your wide eyes met his that stared at you as if you were the stars and the moon. As if once again you were presented to him as impossible puzzle, and he wanted to get lost in trying to solve you. 
He moved in closer, and lowered your gaze to avoid his heated ones. 
Jaebum lifted his hand from your waist. His fingertips brushed your cheeks with the slightest touch as he whispered, “You look beautiful, y/n.”
“Jaebum, stop it.” You began moving out of his arms, but he pulled you back in. His fingers digging into your waist as he held you steady in front of him. 
“Why?” His fevered breath fell over your face as you looked up at him. His eyes were wild with darkness, but it didn’t scare you. It only made you mad, so terribly horribly mad. 
“Why?” You spat, quietly. Your chest was heaving as you tried to control the anger that had been swelling inside you over the past month. 
“Don’t you think we’re past these little games of yours?” You sneered up at him. Your hand on his shoulder tightened as you tried to control yourself. “We already know I fell for it. Do you wanna see if I’ll fall for it again after being rejected once?” 
Jaebum didn’t say anything so you snorted. The sneer on your dark lips growing as you looked down your nose at him, “I won’t let you lead me on again, only to make a fool of me like that. I’m not going to play this sick game of yours.” 
Jaebum’s fingers bit harder into your waist making you gasp as he pulled you flush against him. HIs nose almost brushed against yours, as he breathed harshly, “A game? You think all of this was a game for me?” 
“What else could it be?” You snickered at him, both your hands flattening on his shoulder, trying to push him away with attracting any attention. But he wouldn’t budge a centimetre. You gritted through your teeth as you glared up at him, “Why else would you pretend to be into me? Play with me like that?”
Play with my feelings like that?
Jaebum’s hands rested on your exposed back as he held you steady against him. His jaw clenched, his eyes furious as he tried to control his breathing. 
“It wasn’t a game for me.” 
You ignored his words. 
“Then what was it?” You bit back. “You made it seem like you felt the same way only to reject me when I-”
“I didn’t reject you,” Jaebum cut you off. 
You began laughing mockingly, and Jaebum shook you slightly to make you look at him.  
You didn’t say anything and looked up at him, your lips parted in surprise. 
“Do you,” Jaebum whispered, leaning in closer to you as he leaned his forehead against yours. His eyes stirring golden as they stared into yours, his fingertips softly dancing on your back, causing fire to dance through your vines. “have any idea how crazy you make me, y/n?” 
Suddenly it was all too much. His touch, the way he was looking at you, the things he was saying. The lights shining down upon you two, the chattering of people around you. It all became to loud too much. Your heart beat loudly in your ear as you took a step away from him. 
Jaebum looked at you, expectantly. You stared him, unable to hear a single bought. The only thing you could hear was your heart beating thumping loudly in your ear. 
Your lips parted, you were going to say something. You weren’t sure what. Jaebum’s gaze fell to your lips, waiting for you to the say the words. You took another step back, not saying a single word. 
The smile on Jaebum’s lips dropped as your brows creased as a sudden panic before settling in your chest. You needed to get away.
“I-” you began. 
“Y/n!” You turned to saw a fury of red first, and then her smiling face as she jumped in front of you. “I didn’t know you were coming here.” 
Heather turned to Jaebum, placing a kiss on his cheek. His eyes remained on you, his face void of any emotions. 
Heather smiled at you, “Go away, JB. I won't let you steal my best friend.” 
// 
You were next to Heather the rest of the night, but your eyes still followed the man in the black suit. His sharp eyes met yours throughout the night, but every time you looked away. 
You were looking at him once again. There was something pleasant about his lips when he talked, and the way those whiskers appeared on his cheeks when he would smile or laugh brightly. You couldn’t look away from him no matter how hard you tried. 
You watched him talk to Park Jinyoung with a frown on his face, that deepened when Jinyoung looked your way and winked. His hard glaze travelled to you, as his lips drew into a straight line. 
You looked away once again, your cheeks on fire. 
“Are you okay?” Heather asked. You looked towards her to find her following your gaze to the pair of males. 
“Mhmm,” you nodded, taking a sip of the champagne.
You watched Heather take a sip too, but you noticed that knowing smile on her lips. 
This was all too dangerous.
162 notes · View notes
aminiatureworld · 3 years
Text
Spotlight
Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Xiao, gn!reader
Word Count: 3,707
Warnings: Swearing
Premise: Modern AU in which the reader’s s/o is famous.
Author’s Note: My first crack at a modern AU and I enjoyed it immensely! My personal media of choice definitely came through in this prompt. I would now kill for Albedo to read Shakespeare. Also streamer Kazuha is an inspired idea, thank you anon for that! Not to mention musician Xiao, truly chef’s kiss.
Albedo
Albedo was a stage actor, both by education and by trade. Starting in high school he began in local productions, before entering into the Mondstadt Theateracademie. After appearing as Estragon in a filmed version of Waiting for Godot, he began to be scouted for various television miniseries, eventually becoming a well-respected film actor.
You arrived somewhere in the middle of his career. Working as a costume assistant at the Academie you had quickly fallen for the inquisitive and deceptively intense soul that exuded every color of emotion onstage, from raging anger to soft sorrow, before stepping into the wings and resuming an aura of utter calm. He had captivated you, both as an actor and as a human being; and when you learned that he had also become slightly infatuated with you, well, it was hard not to feel like you had stepped into a wonderful play, or perhaps simply a wonderful play had been brought to life.
The switch from theatre to screen was certainly a jarring one for both of you. When the first film contract was offered Albedo had stared at it for a long time, rereading it over and over again as the coffee in front of him quickly turned cold.
“Is there something wrong with the contract?” You had asked.
“No, it’s not that. It’s only…”
“Only?”
“Only on stage there is a single audience. You can feel their reactions, can measure their response. There is nothing nebulous about the people around you. But on film you cannot do that. You cannot adjust for time of day, or whether it’s a weekend or a Friday performance. You must let your lines out and hope that they land without even being able to calculate it.”
“It’s not a science experiment my darling,” you had teased.
“Maybe not,” Albedo admitted. Still he continued to read and reread, and it was only until the next afternoon that he had told you his answer.
Still, you had to admit that he made a fantastic actor. The naturally inward part of your partner’s personality, the part that always seemed to jump out the moment he left the stage, worked well to balance with the camera’s need for subtlety, unlike the projection required for stage plays. It was little surprise then that he should grow so popular. Despite all the worries about measuring audience response, there was no doubting the success of Albedo’s acting career.
Being a naturally withdrawn person Albedo mostly stayed off of social media. He had one private Instagram for friends – he didn’t post anything; one private Facebook for family – the only picture was one of you two in the mountains next to a particularly weird looking rock; and WhatsApp – which could barely be counted. Thus when he started blowing up on Twitter – a platform you had a mostly unused account on – the reaction was mostly one of “why are they talking about me?”
Not that Albedo minded fan enthusiasm, indeed when people started showing up in droves at the stage door for him he was always careful to thank everyone collectively and talk to as many people as possible, it just sort of confused him that so many people should take a vested interest in the actor and not just the character.
“It’s because they want to show you how wonderful they think your performances are,” you’d explained.
“I don’t have Twitter,” Albedo deadpanned.
Despite his protests though you sometimes caught him scrolling on your account, face slightly red at all the positive attention. His habit of internal self-deprecation had never truly gone away. That fact became slightly unfortunate in the face of hate comments. It was hard for Albedo not to take things personally. If someone said his acting was shit then you would catch Albedo reading the same line over and over again, as if to achieve mathematical perfection. It was a difficult urge to fight, and you were always careful to give Albedo plenty of reassurance when these things popped up, as well as surreptitiously blocking the trolls that wandered their way onto your dash.
This habit to take things at face value did not apply when you entered the mix. As far as Albedo was concerned you were his partner and no amount of complaining online would make him second guess that or second guess your worth. Even if you thought that you had a better hold on social media assholerly than he did Albedo would still make sure that for every hate comment that floated your way there were at least three compliments on his part. Mentioning you off-handedly in press interviews, saying that he had to go home to his partner, leaving small sketches on post-it notes scattered throughout your apartment, there were no lengths that Albedo wouldn’t go to assure you. And, if you had to admit, these things truly did make you feel better on the days when the small part of your brain said that this wasn’t mindless social media harassment.
Being an actor Albedo had an incredibly fine-tuned sense of the way that people responded to emotions, as if he were performing some grand sort of scientific experiment to see how many people he could sway with his gift. As of such he was always careful that, regardless of his success, things between you were never upturned. You were with him before he was really famous, and you would be there during and after. Albedo loved you deeply; though he often said that he hated romance plays for how sappy they were in his mind your relationship was the one, glowing exception – regardless of the other happy couples in the world. Though it was slightly idealistic, it was the kind of intensity that comprised Albedo’s personality, was the thing that had garnered him so much success.
Albedo loved you deeply, and no amount of surprise movie contracts would change that.
 Kazuha
You had to admit that when you had met Kazuha you had no idea about his double life as a streamer. He was merely one of the many singers that came and went to the recording studios, all people eager to unleash their talent on the world. But unlike the rest of them, Kazuha could make you laugh.
Perhaps then it was unsurprising that Kazuha should be a popular streamer. Though his often florid talking style might seem on paper like it would be too grating for streaming, in reality his soft cadence combined with a dry sense of humor made him wildly popular. He rarely lost his temper, making him palatable to those who wanted to have a fun time without blowing their ears out, and when he did lose it his hyper-specific, often nonsensical insults were the stuff of memes. No, in retrospect it was not all that surprising that Kazuha was a beloved streamer.
At heart though, Kazuha had told you over coffee, the enthusiastic and earnest internet sensation was a poet.
“When you’ve had a life as dissonant as mine, how can you not be?” He’d joked. And indeed perhaps he was right, for Kazuha was as wonderful a poet as you had ever read. He was born to be a writer, you had told him.
You were also an aspiring singer, as well as a friend of the studio owner where you did your recordings. As such you had made it a habit to help around the studio when you weren’t also working or studying. As you and Kazuha were both students with intense side jobs, the good natured complaining of overworked students also made their way into you rapport, a friendship that grew day-by-day. Eventually it sprouted into love.
Though you knew that Kazuha was a streamer when your relationship started, in reality you hadn’t realized how truly popular he had become. The first time you watched one of his streams you were blown away by his popularity. Watching your first livestream only cemented that. It was hard to believe that your down-to-earth, slightly self-effacing, partner could have garnered such a large fanbase. Not that you didn’t think he deserved it. He absolutely did. However after seeing that you admitted you were a bit awestruck.
“Why? Am I not the same person on screen and off?”
“Of course you are! It’s just, well, my partner’s a celebrity!”
“I would go that far,” Kazuha laughed.
“Well you certainly are to me!”
Nevertheless your dynamic didn’t change much afterwards, besides the occasional teasing on both of your parts. Kazuha was after all Kazuha at the end of the day.
At the beginning Kazuha didn’t mention you much on stream, certainly not by name, you had to admit you were a bit intimidated by the idea of being recognizable on the internet, even if it was just by name.
“This is also my partner’s favorite map.” Had been his first mention, during a game of Mario Kart.
Despite this offhanded remark however the chat had almost immediately exploded, followed by the rest of the fanbase. Though there was, of course, some disappointed buzz – isn’t there always – the reaction was immensely positive. Positive, and curious.
After a while Kazuha started mentioning you more often in streams, especially after the two fo you moved in. Sometimes you would hear him as you passed him room – Kazuha liked to keep the door open – other times you would watch it on stream yourself.
“My partner hates this character. Too bad you can’t throw evidence.”
“Nobody tell my partner that I’m afraid of basements. I don’t need them to know that when laundry day rolls around.”
“Hey if you’re watching this dear, I promise that it’s not that much money. You don’t need to look at the bank account. Who am I kidding, this is why we don’t share one.”
“Hey, darling I know you’re watching this. Can you check and make sure I left my keys on the coffee table, they aren’t on my desk. Also can you make tea?”
Despite fans knowing very little about you, you were surprised by the amount of positive comments that flooded the streams. You had to admit that your initial expectations had been “people are going to find me annoying”. Instead funny comics of your voice drifting in from the other room popped up, along with a lot of waving and “tell your partner not to trust you with the keys” after Kazuha fell off a cliff one too many times. It was an odd experience, to be so happy about the comments of faceless people, people to whom you were also faceless.
Eventually Kazuha’s hardwork in singing paid off and his first single was recorded and given a deal. On the evening of the release livestream Kazuha set up in the living room, angling the camera so that you could sit on the chair just out of frame. You had talked about the release for months now, and a few weeks ago Kazuha had brought up the idea of a pseudo-stream reveal.
“I was wondering if you’d like to say hello to the audience or wave when my song is released. I understand that you’re hesitant about those sort of things, and I would never ask of you something that would make you uncomfortable. This relationship is the most precious thing to me, and I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or exploited in any ways.”
“Thank you for being so considerate Kazuha. I’ll think about it.”
Now you sat in the chair, fidgeting slightly, waiting as the countdown on his laptop reached one. You excitement certainly seemed matched by that of the fans, who were typing wildly in the chat.
Eventually the screen faded to black and the chatting quieted down. The first few notes of a wooden flute emerged, combined with the strumming of a guitar. As the familiar words began to echo through the laptop speaker you found yourself washed away. Kazuha was always enthralling when he sang. At the end of the song was a dedication, and though Kazuha had already alluded to it, the sincerity still took your breath away.
To my dearest partner. My compass and my guiding star throughout this realization of my dream. You are my sun and my stars, and I’m forever devoted to you. Thank you for sharing in this project, and thank you for giving me such love.
Perhaps it was slightly saccharine. Regardless you felt the sudden, uninhibited urge to cry.
“So, what did everyone think?” Kazuha asked into the mic, face reappearing on screen. He was slightly giddy, and you watched as his hand tugged on the fabric of his linen belt.
Immediately the chat exploded, as waves of “that was amazing”, “I’m crying now”, and “the end was so sweet!” flooded the screen.
“Thank you all for the encouragement!” Kazuha let out a laugh, one that you could tell was one of utter euphoria, and no little relief. “There’s someone else I think who would like to thank you.”
Who knew that a small sentence could cause such a splash?
You barely had time to let out a tentative “Hello,” before an immediate wave of excited screaming covered the bottom left of Kazuha’s stream. “Thank you for supporting Kazuha’s song. And thank you for always being nice to me.” With a tentative wave of the hand you collapsed back on your chair, slightly hysterical laughter rising inside you out of the relief that flooded through you upon seeing the enthused fan reaction.
Afterwards your voice became the occasional guest on Kazuha’s streams, always greeted with enthusiasm. Kazuha continued to grow in popularity, and his music continued to capture a larger and larger audience.
All throughout this you never felt a snag in your relationship. Kazuha may have been a big streaming personality, but he was also a kind and considerate partner, the best that one could ask for in a significant other. Kazuha’s love was never in question. And neither was yours.
 Xiao
Sometimes you were a little self-conscious about the way that you met Xiao.
Though Xiao had definitely grown a following by the time you met – being the main pianist for a popular singer and a classical pseudo-prodigy in both piano and flute his own right certainly had roped him an enthusiastic fanbase – you had simply known him as “the guy who hogs the practice room”.
“I swear to the gods, how long can that bastard take to practice!” You texted angrily at your friend one day. Qixing Conservatory was the premiere music place in Liyue, but what should’ve been an amazing opportunity was being overshadowed by a practice room partner who appeared to not have a life, one who also had the obnoxious habit of playing the same damn thing over, and over, and over again.
“Playing the same piece as before?”
“Yes! Ugh I don’t even know what it’s called but I’ve heard it enough times to last a lifetime, maybe five!”
“Damn I’m sorry, what time does he usually end?”
“I don’t even know. Some time in the early evening. It’s obviously never gotten through to his brain that other people also need to practice. Or that hearing the same notes over and over while waiting makes me want to chuck my binder against a wall.”
“Lol. I kinda want to hear it now. Can you send a video, will the sound pick up?”
“I don’t know how it wouldn’t.”
“…”
“Holy shit! Okay, I need you to watch this video and tell me if you recognize the pianist.”
Safe to say you nearly fell out of your chair upon figuring out Xiao’s identity. Not that you weren’t already about to out of pure exasperation. Still, there was something much more intimidating about shaming a successful musician, and you no longer had the urge to glare at Xiao every time he left the practice room. Honestly, you would have been perfectly happy keeping your head down and never interacting with him at all.
Fate, however, has a sense of humor.
To be fair, some of it was your fault. You knew that Erlkonig was a massively difficult piece. You knew that you should’ve picked something else, knew that even Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata mvt. Three had to be less painful than the non-vocal arrangement you’d placed in front of your eyes. You were never trusting your music taste with your piece choices again. This was a terrible mistake.
“These stupid fucking running notes!” You let out, a groan of exasperation racing through you. Half slamming (you weren’t crazy) the piano cover down you swung the door of the practice room open. You didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Trying to ignore the embarrassment that rose up seeing Xiao waiting on a chair next to the door you went to walk down the hallway.
“You should work on it with a dotted sixteenth note pattern.”
It was the first time that Xiao had ever spoken to you.
Afterwards a rapport slowly grew between the two of you. Often Xiao said nothing as you passed, rarely you made a gesture of recognition when he finally reappeared from the practice room. However soon the occasional word or phrase of advice grew into longer sentences, later these sentences evolved into pieces of conversation. Soon enough you discovered, to your slight horror, that you found yourself yearning for Xiao’s company.
Almost as soon as you’d finally figured out your feelings you were hit with a wave of denial. You weren’t falling for Xiao? How could you fall for someone who got on your nerves so much? Sure he gave you advice, but what about it? You deserved it after having to hear him over and over again while waiting. Certainly Xiao didn’t seem interested in you, he barely talked to you! Yeah he was getting more talkative, but it’s easier to talk to people when you’re giving them advice. There’s no way you were in love with Xiao. And there was no way he was in love with you.
To say that Xiao’s career as a musician, never mind his genuine technical talent at two instruments, was a barrier would be an understatement. The moment you thought you were making some progress, finally admitting to yourself that this crush was, in fact, real, a wave of anxiety would pass over you. Xiao was too good for you, he was too important. Here was a man who had a successful musical career already up in the air while you banged frustratedly on the keys. Why would someone that successful be interested in you? Not to mention the fact that he didn’t seem interested.
Because, you had to admit, you did like Xiao’s music. Not just his classical repertoire, but his pop music as well. It was slightly jazzy, mellow and playful and utterly unlike the scowling musician behind it – something you secretly thought extremely cute and surprisingly charming. To him you were just a practice roommate, and you were sure he’d find the idea of dating someone who was more familiar with his public persona irritating.
So you buried your feelings, or tried to. Unfortunately like sometimes attracts like, and just as Xiao secretly had the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, you weren’t nearly as clever about things as you would like.
“Is there something on my face?” Xiao asked, his voice gruff and slightly reluctant.
“No, why would there be?”
“Because you’re staring at it!”
“Oh, I’m sorry!” You let your head drop, looking intently at the ivories in front of you. Eventually there was a sigh.
“You don’t have to do that. I… I don’t mind.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes! You staring down is weird too. Let’s, let’s just hurry up and do this passage.”
After that you became more aware of your staring habit. You also became more aware of Xiao’s own habit, leaning towards you. Sometimes you swore that you could feel the tips of his hair tickling your neck, light and feathery and stealing all your attention.
“Hey, Xiao, do you need glasses?”
“Why would you asked that!” Xiao flared up, face reddening. By this time you’d become more accustomed to these flareups of grumpiness, and ignoring it you pressed on.
“It’s just, you seem to be leaning forward.”
“I’m not!” Immediately Xiao shifted back, almost stepping away. Without thinking about it you reached to grab his hand.
“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing!” You got out, before becoming aware of your hand grasping Xiao’s. The touch felt electric, and you were suddenly so very aware of everything, yet unable to focus at all.
“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Xiao grumbled.
Slowly the musician leaned closer to you once more. You had already half stood up and now you found yourself stepping closer to Xiao. The world continued to shrink until you were almost pressed together. Xiao was leaning forward, as were you, and the longer tufts of his hair were tickling your cheek, helped by the fan whirring away in the corner. Your hand was still in his, but all your thoughts appeared to have died away.
“Xiao?”
“Is this, too close?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
“Xiao?”
“What?”
“I like your music. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”
“Why would it?”
“I don’t know. I just, I also like you, not just your music. But I also like your music.”
“I also like yours too.”
Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic of confessions, but at that point you were far too carried away by the moment, or maybe by the fact that was the most sentences Xiao had strung together that weren’t about triplets. Regardless of the fact, you were suddenly seized by incredible happiness, as all appeared to right itself.
Afterwards initially little changed, Xiao was a gruff as ever, you were still itching to play in the practice room more. Nevertheless when you went to a concert of his for the first time and he let out a small, almost imperceptible, smile your way you knew things had changed. They would keep changing perhaps, or maybe they wouldn’t. After all, this moment was beautiful.
So much that you didn’t even mind the hours spent waiting for the practice room.
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homoose · 3 years
Text
Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x reader)
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Summary: Reader tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: hurt/comfort
Warnings/Includes: none
a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave​ for being my beta the past two chapters.
Series Masterlist
———
One week.
That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up.
They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Y/N’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner.
Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Y/N never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.
He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Y/N was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.
Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now.
He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again.
No new messages.
He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something.
Y/N dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles.
She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him.
She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag.
And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left.
“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”
“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”
“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”
She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”
It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling.
Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper.
Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath.
The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”
“Hey, mama,” Y/N breathed.
Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?”
She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.”
“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”
Despite herself, Y/N laughed wetly. “Oh my god , mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”
“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted.
“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Y/N ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”
“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”
“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Y/N admitted, tears spilling over her lash line.
Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost 40 years.”
Y/N heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.”
Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”
“It’s complicated,” Y/N hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf.
Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?”
Y/N dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”
“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled.
Y/N closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”
Y/N swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Y/N could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”
“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Y/N’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”
Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Y/N.”
“What if I’m right?” she whispered.
“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Y/N heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.”
Y/N listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.
“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.”
That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Y/N the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes.
The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response.
“Hi.”
Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.
His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his.
He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on.
“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.”
He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”
She could barely look at him. “I know.”
He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.”
She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”
Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”
“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”
He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done.
“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.”
He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way.
“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”
His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long?
“And then I met you, and you…” Y/N let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”
He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough?
“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted.
He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too.
She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”
A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself.
She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.”
Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”
Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”
“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.
Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”
“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air.
“Y/N, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed.
“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair.
She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.”
He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”
She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”
“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”
“What if you change your mind?” she whispered.
“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”
Y/N nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”
He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath.
“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”
“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.”
He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again.
“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Y/N. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”
Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”
He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”
His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”
She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes. “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.”
She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his skin. “I love you the most.”
“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”
She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”
The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head.
… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...
He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.”
She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.”
He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.”
He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself.
“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice.
“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered.
She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”
She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”
They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation.
Y/N took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”
Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”
“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes tracked the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”
“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman— and smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast, and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple.”
“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”
She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”
Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Y/N.
She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.”
She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane that I stayed with him for five years, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was... that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”
He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.
She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on— when someone tells you you’re nothing… you start to believe it.”
Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now.
He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”
She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”
He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I’ve had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I’ve been able to recognize the moments when I’m falling back into old thought patterns.”
She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there , and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”
“And then I didn’t answer your call.”
“No, no .” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”
She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and over his heart. “And then he just— left . And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but then you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”
Y/N dissolved back into the couch, an unwelcome indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.
“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.”
She gave him a weary nod, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.”
He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check and find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.”
“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”
He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with her.
“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.”
He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.”
She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”
He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”
“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.
He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you... I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”
He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.”
He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered.
“Agree to disagree.”
———
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delicioussshame · 3 years
Text
And now, for something a bit different. Set in the Sugar Baby AU.
Shang Qinghua cannot believe Shen Yuan’s gall. How can he, a very unproductive member of society, dares to criticize Shang Qinghua’s output? At least he contributes something, unlike some people who are paid to look pretty.
And, apparently, do more than that now.
Good for him, really. Shang Qinghua has heard his fair share of horror stories about Luo Binghe, but since Shen Yuan cannot stop singing his praises in that oblivious way of his, he cannot be that bad.
Plus, you know, Luo Binghe is very, very hot. Hot enough that even Shen Yuan, famous for his ability to ignore even the most blatant double entendre, cannot deny it. Shang Qinghua can imagine much worst fates than having to fuck him.
Now, if Shang Qinghua could get him to share all the juicy details, he’s sure it would make for great inspiration.
Not that there is much chance of that happening, not with the way Shen Yuan clams up as soon as Shang Qinghua so much as hints about his sex life.
Shen Yuan is a hypocrite, that’s what he is. He sure isn’t shy about complaining about Shang Qinghua’s sex scenes, or every aspect of Shang Qinghua’s writing.
Well, Shang Qinghua isn’t going to let him get away with it. He’s going to hear about it too! He just has to-
“What are you doing.”
Shang Qingua drops his phone in his haste to shove it down his pockets, so he gets to scramble under his desk like an idiot right in front of his boss. Fucking great. “Nothing! I wasn’t doing anything!”
Mobei-Jun’s angry growl has no right to be this sexy. “You’re supposed to be working. Get to it.”
Shang Qinghua sits back at his desk as fast as possible, randomly pulling a file off his desk while opening one excel spreadsheet or another. “I will! I’ll do it! I’m doing it now! I’m sorry!” That’s what Shang Qinghua gets for maintaining an acquaintance with an old friend who doesn’t have to worry about office hours.
Then again, this is kind of his job? Mobei-Jun wanted him to keep an eye out for anything useful on Luo Binghe, so he’s technically not slacking! “Actually, I was just messaging Shen Yuan, trying to get the info you asked for! He’s not very open, but I’m working on it!” He doesn’t think Shen Yuan will ever give him something Mobei-Jun would benefit from, but not for the reasons he’d think. From the way Shen Yuan complains about Luo Binghe’s general disinterest in the business he’s somehow managing like he was born into it, which he very much wasn’t, it wouldn’t even cross Luo Binghe’s mind to keep Shen Yuan informed on the ins and outs.
So Shang Qinghua is trying to find a way to get Shen Yuan to ask for said intel, cause he has a feeling Luo Binghe would tell him everything without a second thought. For someone who decided to pay their sex partner instead of wooing them, which someone like Luo Binghe could certainly have managed, he seems utterly besotted.
“Can’t we just pay him for it? He’s fine with being a whore; why wouldn’t he accept cash for info?”
Shang Qinghua winces and ducks instinctively to evade the slap Shen Yuan would have given him if he’d called him a whore in his presence. “It’s not quite like that. Shen Yuan’s relationship with Luo Binghe is complicated. Yes, Luo Binghe is paying for him, but from what I’ve gathered, it was more to skip the wooing and get to the good parts faster.” At least that’s what Shang Qinghua thinks happened. Shen Yuan, again, isn’t the most open about the details.
Plus, Shang Qinghua can’t say it didn’t work. Luo Binghe managed to get Shen Yuan living with him and doing nothing but being available to him 24/7. That has to count as a success.
Mobei-Jun seems baffled. “You can do that?”
Shang Qinghua shrugs. “Most people wouldn’t be into it, but I can get behind it. If someone with Luo Binghe’s wealth and looks told me they wanted to finance my lifestyle in exchange of sex, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Good life, here I come!”
Shang Qinghua then remembers he’s talking to his boss and not one of his former college buddies. “Ha ha, not that I really would! I am devoted to my job! I wouldn’t leave it, so please don’t fire me!” He needs the money to live!
“I’d pay you.”
Shang Qinghua startles for a second, before his brain catches up to reality. “Ha ha, that’s a funny joke, Boss.” He doesn’t know why Mobei-Jun chose now to try to develop a sense of humor, but he’s not surprised that when he decides to do so, it’s at Shang Qinghua’s expense.
“Not a joke.” Mobei-Jun takes out his wallets and pulls out what has to be at least a couple thousands yuan, which he waves in the air almost threateningly. “Take it.”
Shang Qinghua is utterly flummoxed. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Shang Qinghua leans over the desk and tentatively takes the money.
In exchange, strong arms grab his waist, lifts him off the chair he was just sitting him like he could do it in his sleep, settles him on the desk and kisses him until Shang Qinghua has to push him back to breathe, because he cannot use his nose and his mouth at the same time right now. Not enough brain cells left.
“The hell?” says Shang Qinghua with all the eloquence he has left.
Then, his brain catches up with his mouth. If, for some unfathomable reason, Mobei-Jun has decided Shang Qinghua was worthy of him spending his money, Shang Qinghua will do the smartest thing he’s ever done and let him.
Why Mobei-Jun just didn’t use his words and tell Shang Qinghua he wanted him, Shang Qinghua will probably never know. It’s not like Shang Qinghua would have told him no. No matter what Shen Yuan says, he’s not stupid. The embodiment of all his fantasies wants to fuck him? Shang Qinghua is into that.
Oh god, Shen Yuan. He’s going to have to explain to him that latest development, will he?
…Naaah. He doesn’t need to know for now.
Anyway, what is there to explain?
…Is there something to explain? Mobei-Jun hasn’t spoken since Shang Qinghua freed himself, so maybe he’s reconsidering? Shit, maybe Shang Qinghua is a terrible kisser? Is he a terrible kisser? Is Mobei-Jun reconsidering? Of course he’s reconsidering. He’s not stupid either.
This train of thoughts is stopped by Mobei-Jun’s growling, grabbing his shoulders, pushing him down on the desk and devouring his mouth.
Shang Qinghua probably isn’t a terrible kisser then! Yes! Also Mobei-Jun isn’t reconsidering, so double yes!
That’s a good thing, because he’s pretty certain he’s going to need the money to replace the shirt Mobei-Jun is apparently very offended by, if the way he ripped it off Shang Qinghua, sending buttons flying everywhere, can be believed. Not that he cares about the shirt. Mobei-Jun can destroy all of them if he wants to. Especially if it’s always following by Mobei-Jun’s teeth getting very familiar with his chest.
Or the rest of him. Mobei-Jun is so lucky Shang Qinghua is both incredibly thirsty for him and suffering from long-term celibacy. He’s definitely willing to go despite the aggressive lack of foreplay.
Not that he can imagine a moment where Mobei-Jun almost tearing his pants open to get his mouth on his cock wouldn’t be welcomed. Shang Qinghua is always down for that. Very, very down for that.
Shang Qinghua balls his hands into fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, to stop himself from holding Mobei-Jun’s head. Mobei-Jun might bite them off.
Shang Qinghua also bites his tongue hard enough to bleed. The building is nice enough, but Shang Qinghua can be very loud.  The last thing he wants is for some underling to come running and find them like this. He would feel guilty to have caused a death.
Soon enough, another pressing concern makes itself known. “Boss, ah, please, you should let me go.” Shang Qingqiu has never even dreamed of Mobei-Jun blowing him, but he sure doesn’t seem like the type to swallow, and he wants to keep his cock in working order. He might get to use it more later.
Mobei-Jun glares at him over his cock, which has no business being this hot. Shang Qinghua is sure he felt him twitch and leak on his tongue.
Hey, if Shang Qinghua is wrong and Mobei-Jun is the type to swallow, more power to him. Shang Qinghua isn’t exactly going to complain.
Shang Qinghua whites out when he finally comes, and then probably does so again when he opens his eyes and is faced with Mobei-Jun staring at him, a little whitish drop on the corner of his mouth.
Fuck, he just got blown by Mobei-Jun. When did his life become so great?
Mobei-Jun kisses him again with no less urgency, which Shang Qinghua can sympathize with. He hasn’t done anything for his poor boss, has he? Time to remediate that.
___________
Shang Qinghua blinks repeatedly, trying to keep himself awake after the many, many rounds he’s just gone through.
His back is going to hurt like hell, isn’t it? And not just his back. He’ll probably be out of commission for days.
Doesn’t matter. So worth it. Even if it was a one-time thing, it’d still be worth it.
Is it a one-time thing? Does Shang Qinghua still have a job? Two jobs?
He should ask, right? It’s probably the right time to do so. Even Mobei-Jun probably is in a good mood after getting laid. “Boss?”
Mobei-Jun makes a noise Shang Qinghua decides to interpret as encouragement for him to continue. “Am I your sugar baby now? Do I have to come to work tomorrow?”
Mobei-Jun frowns.
Well, the whole thing was pretty spontaneous. There is probably no plan.
“You’re working tomorrow.”
Ahh, too bad. Well, it was nice while it lasted.
“I have to get you a replacement before you go.”
Shang Qinghua straightens up. “Just to be clear, that’s because you’re going to bankroll me personally, right? Not because I just lost my job for being unprofessional, right?”
Mobei-Jun nods.
Success! Shang Qinghua just won at life! He'll finally get to write whatever he wants instead of what sells! And he’s got a scorching not-boyfriend on top of it! Take that, Shen Yuan! You’re not the only one who can attract crazy rich guys! “Am I moving in with you? Or are we just not-dating? I’ll do whatever you want, no problem! Or wear whatever you want, cause this shirt is so dead I’m not sure how I’m going to leave this room, but I don’t care! You can do it again if you want to!”
Mobei-Jun throws his blazer in Shang Qinghua’s face like he’s an especially rude shoujo manga love interest. “Put this on. I’ll get back to you for the details, but you’ll be moving in with me.”
“Okay! I’ll be waiting!” He’ll wait forever if he has to. So worth it.
He’ll have to remember to buy Shen Yuan something to thank him for making this possible.
He’ll probably order him a bunch of the weirdest sex toys he can find and have them delivered anonymously to Luo Binghe. Shen Yuan will thank him someday.
Okay, he never will, but Shang Qinghua will know in his heart he did right by his friend.
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