Tumgik
#so just. SHUT UP. I know i need to save thousands of dollars to buy it from you. i know.
sharlsworld · 1 month
Text
⋆⭒˚.⋆ i heard - ʟɴ4 ☆
✿ lando norris x influencer!reader (everyone gasped)
✿ lando norris has a crush on a certain influencer and his friends are on a mission to help him get the girl
🝮
yn
📍los angeles, california
Tumblr media Tumblr media
liked by landonorris and 3,935,027 others
yn sun kissed 🌞
landonorris first
landonorris 😍😍😍
⤷ maxfewtrell 3 heart eyes??
flowers444yn what tf is lando norris doing in my gf’s comments?
lando.norizz he’s never beating the norizz allegations
alexandrasaintmleux let me take you out on my boat girl 🤤
⤷ charles_leclerc You mean my boat?
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux go away
⤷ yn i’ll be waiting 😉
zendaya Simply stunning 🤩
♥︎ by author
jacobelordi 😍
♥︎ by author
hearts4lando how do the wags know her?
⤷ ynsource she’s been invited to a few races by ferrari and mercedes so the wags must’ve introduced themselves there
judebellingham Beautiful 😍
♥︎ by author
⤷ yn 🥰
⤷ landowantsrizz STOP POOR LANDO CANT EVEN GET A LIKE 😭
lilymhe damn girl let me wife you up 🤤
⤷ yn please do 😫
🝮
yn
📍monaco
Tumblr media
liked by landonorris and 5,902,528 others
yn monaco will always have my heart
landonorris first
♥︎ by author
landonorris can i have it next?
♥︎ by author
alexandrasaintmleux need your hair 😍😫
♥︎ by author
gigihadid i miss you gorgeous 💓
⤷ yn i miss you more 💘
francisca.cgomes why not the picture of you double cheeked up? 🤤🤤
⤷ yn kika 😭😭 please
pierregasly can i have my shirt that i did not know was missing until now back?
⤷ francisca.cgomes no she wears it better
⤷ pierregasly wow ok then.
michaelbjordan 😍
♥︎ by author
⤷ yn everyone SHUT UP IM GLITCHING
⤷ landolovesyn poor lando 😭😭
landonorris please just give me one chance
♥︎ by author
⤷ yn 😭😭
⤷ landonorris i’ll take that as a maybe 🥰
carlossainz55 I would like to apologize for lando’s behavior
⤷ yn nothing to apologize for, it’s cute
⤷ landonorris 🤩🥺🥰🤤😫😍😎🥳😱
⤷ charles_leclerc Don’t mind him, he doesn’t interact with women much…
⤷ yn i could tell
⤷ landonorris 😕😞🖤💔😖😪😢😣😔
⤷ oscarpiastri He’s genuinely tweaking rn
🝮
landonorris
Tumblr media
liked by danielricciardo and 944,576 others
landonorris 🩷💜🤍💙🩵❤️
yn who’s all those hearts for?
⤷ landonorrris you. only you. always you.
charles_leclerc Lando looking for y/n
oscarpiastri Lando wondering where y/n is
alex_albon lando wondering what y/n is doing
alexandrasaintmleux lando thinking how to get y/n’s attention
georgerussell63 Lando thinking of y/n
carlossainz55 Lando thinking about all the gifts he’s could buy for y/n
lilymhe lando wondering how y/n slept
francisca.cgomes lando thinking of ways to impress y/n
maxfewtrell Lando wondering if y/n thinks he’s cool
🝮
yn
📍 somewhere in monaco
Tumblr media
liked by pierregasly and 3,084,921 others
yn party of 1
landonorris first
♥︎ by author
landonorris can i make it a party of 2? :)
♥︎ by author
⤷ yn i wouldn’t mind ;)
charles_leclerc I heard lando norris saved a family of 6 from a house fire the other day
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux yeah i heard he also saved the family’s 3 dogs too
carlossainz55 Lando norris bought me a new custom ferrari yesterday
maxverstappen1 Shoutout to my boy lando norris for letting me win all those races your a real one mate
alex_albon I heard lando norris tipped 700 dollars for a 10 dollar coffee last week
oscarpiastri I heard lando norris bought 1000 dollars worth of food for a homeless shelter in Miami last year
⤷ georgerussell63 I heard he also donated a bunch of clothes to
lilymhe i heard lando norris payed for everyone’s meals at a restaurant last month
⤷ carmenmmundt Yeah I heard he does that all the time
⤷ francisca.cgomes i heard he gave 1 million to a small business today
danielricciardo Lando norris actually bought me my house
lewishamilton Lando norris bought my dog a thousand dollar blinged out collar
donatella_versace Donatella VERSACE💜
🝮
yn posted a story
Tumblr media
replies
landonorris replied to your story
first 😁
yn as always honey
carlossainz55 replied to your story
does that party of 2 include a certain brit?
yn i don’t know who your referring to 🤔
lilymhe replied to your story
that bitch stole my girl
yn like you weren’t helping him 😭
carmenmmundt replied to your story
My little girl is growing up on me 😓
yn omg shut up 😭
francisca.cgomes replied to your story
that muppet better treat my girl right
yn don’t worry kika he will
alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story
ask him to buy you red bottoms i bet he will without thinking about it
yn stop he probably would 😭😭
🝮
landonorris posted a story
Tumblr media
replies
yn replied to your story
you’re so cute
landonorris your the cutest 😉
you’re*
landonorris i’m sorry. you’re the cutest*
charles_leclerc replied to your story
Your welcome, I started that whole thing
landonorris thank you mate it’s very much appreciated
pierregasly replied to your story
Don’t trip mate
landonorris to late. i knocked on the door to her apartment and she invited me inside cause she was looking for her earrings and i tripped walking inside. and i did not catch myself in time.
your supposed to have fast reflexes mate 😭
landonorris yeah all that went out the window when i seen her
alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story
you better not let her touch any door handle, pull out her chair, hold her hand, give her your coat, and don’t let her peak at the bill
landonorris i wouldn’t dream of it
🝮
yn
Tumblr media
liked by krisjenner and 11,935,776 others
yn i heard he ended world hunger or something?
landonorris first
♥︎ by author
landonorris sum slight yk
♥︎ by author
landonorris your so yummy baby 😍
♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc Once again, your welcome
⤷ yn no thank you
lilymhe damn does he not know how to keep his hands to himself?
⤷ landonorris you wouldn’t be able to if she was yours
francisca.cgomes i could treat you better
⤷ yn come over 😏
⤷ francisca.cgomes omw baby
⤷ landonorris oh!
⤷ pierregasly you get used to it
⤷ alex_albon over time you’ll just start to ignore it
⤷ charles_leclerc At a certain point you’ll have a good chuckle about it
⤷ georgerussell63 You learn to live with it
🝮
landonorris
Tumblr media
liked by tomholland2013 and 6,213,095 others
landonorris i like when it’s you & i
yn first
♥︎ by author
yn 🤍🤍🤍
♥︎ by author
yn i like it too honey
♥︎ by author
carlossainz55 You did it cabrón 🥳
⤷ landonorris i manifested this shit
lilymhe cutest 😍 y/n not lando.
⤷ landonorris hatin for what 🤣🤣
danielricciardo Lando norris did it
⤷ charles_leclerc He got the girl
⤷ arthur_leclerc crazy son of a bitch
alex_albon bro beat the norizz allegations
⤷ georgerussell63 I guess it’s time to retire lando norizz 😞
alexandrasaintmleux she was mine first.
⤷ landonorris and now she’s all mine 🤤
maxverstappen1 This calls for celebration!
⤷ pierregasly to the club!
oscarpiastri I already can’t stand you two
francisca.cgomes she curved michael b jordan and jude bellingham for a white guy…
⤷ landonorris stay mad 🥱
mclaren Welcome to family y/n! 🧡
♥︎ by author & yn
2K notes · View notes
sebstanaddict · 6 months
Text
Too Good To Be True
Sebastian Stan x Reader Story
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: A romantic comedy story where Sebastian Stan falls in love with reader but she is not who he thinks she is.
Horrified that she let Sebastian’s girlfriend’s dog, ruin Sebastian's girlfriend's shoes, she tried to find a way to fix it so Aurora wouldn’t find out. Will she succeed and save Aurora’s two thousand dollars shoes? Or will Aurora find out and fire her?
Pairings : Sebastian Stan x Female!Reader
Chapters : 8/20 (Might add more)
Chapter List >
Warning : none - let me know if you find anything
Word count : 7.3k words
This story is inspired loosely by Sebastian's love life so it will have characters from his real life but I will not name their real names. I will only use Sebastian's real name in the story.
---
Chapter 8 - Hola
13320 Mulholland Drive, Los Angeles, California - Wednesday, July 5th 2023 - 9 am
---
Y/n's heart dropped to her stomach as she caught sight of the cream Chihuahua chewing on Aurora's new Jimmy Choo shoes. She became even more horrified as the crystals on the strap started to fall off and dropped onto the floor.
"Paris! No.. no.. no..!' She immediately ran towards the Chihuahua and pulled the shoe off from her mouth. But Paris held onto it tight and wouldn't let go. Her heart sank as the top part of the shoe started to rip and even more crystals fell off from it.
"Paris! Let it go! Let it go!" She demanded but it was no use. Paris growled and continued to pull the shoe.
She had no choice but to let it go so that it didn't become ruined even further. Once she let it go Paris was jolted back from the sudden release and finally released the shoe. She immediately picked it up and put it high above her head so Paris couldn't take it again.
"Bad dog! Bad dog!" She scolded as Paris barked loudly at her.
She shook her head in disbelief as she studied the shoe, wondering if she could still fix it. But the crystals on the strap were all gone and the top part had been ripped. There was no way she could repair it.
She looked around, realizing she needed to find the other pair and found it lying on the floor not far from Paris, the condition even worse than the one in her hand. Paris was about to bite the other shoe again but she picked it up before she got the chance.
"Bad dog! Bad dog!" She yelled in frustration as she picked up an empty shoe box near her and put the shoes in it. She wasn't sure what to do but at that moment all she could think about was to pick up all the crystals and clean up the room from any evidence. She could think about what to do later on.
One by one she started to pick up the crystals and dropped them into the box while Paris stood near her and continued to bark.
"Shut up Paris! This is all your fault!" She scolded her. Miraculously Paris stopped barking, as if she knew what she was saying. She paused and looked up and saw Paris looking serious, her eyes furrowed in concentration. Then she heard the most disgusting sound ever, Paris had just pooped onto the floor! Leaving a wet brown stinky mess onto the floor.
"Paris! Oh my God! Seriously?!" She scrunched her nose in disgust as the foul smell wafted into her nose.
Paris just looked at her innocently then ran away from her out of the room. She sighed as she stood up and decided to clean the mess first before continuing to gather the rest of the crystals.
Once the floor was clean from Paris' liquid poop she continued to gather the crystals into the shoe box as her mind thought of what to do. Fixing the shoes was impossible. Even if she could glue back all the crystals, the satin part of the shoes were already ripped. She contemplated buying a new pair but realized she didn't have enough money to buy a new one. The shoe cost two thousand dollars and she didn't have that much in her possession. She literally only had the money Sebastian had given her when she was still working at Go Get 'Em Tiger and two hundred dollars she got from Sebastian the other day minus the price of the waffles she bought at the cafe. She realized she only had about nine hundred dollars, and she needed it for the rest of the month.
She contemplated asking for Sebastian's help but then decided against it. He had helped her so much and she really didn't want to bother him again. Besides, she would be too embarrassed to tell him. It would just show how incompetent she was. She wondered if she could probably borrow some money from Lara or her roommates. She hated to ask for their help but she didn't have a choice. Of course, she could always confess to Aurora about what happened but she was afraid Aurora would fire her.
After a while she finally decided to ask her friends for help. Aurora was going to pay her six grand anyway by the end of the month, so she could pay them back by then.
Relieved that she had a plan, she finished gathering all the crystals into the shoe box and brought it out of the room.
She walked downstairs to hide the shoe box in her room but her worst nightmare happened. She was only several steps away from the ground floor when two things happened at the same time. The front door suddenly opened and Aurora entered the room. Paris ran downstairs and slipped in front of her, startling her that she tripped on the stairs and fell onto the floor, the shoe box flew away from her hand and dropped onto the floor. The cover of the box opened, revealing the ruined shoes and crystals scattered all over the floor.
"Y/n!!!" Aurora's high pitched scream entered her ears and her heart dropped to her stomach.
"What the hell is this?!" Aurora yelled.
She looked up and grunted, feeling pain on several parts of her body. She slowly stood up, noticing that thankfully she just seemed to be bruised, no sprain, no broken bones.
"I.. I'm sorry, Miss Watson." She stammered as she fixed the position of her glasses which had skewed a little when she fell down, her heart beating fast in fear.
"Is this my new Jimmy Choo shoes?!" Aurora asked, picking up the shoe box from the floor.
"Y.. yes. I'm sorry Miss Watson. Paris chewed it. I.. I didn't see when she entered your room. I was busy cleaning her room. I'm sorry." She said, her head hung and she looked down, afraid to look into Aurora's eyes.
"I told you not to let her enter my room! I told you she likes shoes!" Aurora yelled.
"I'm sorry.." she said again as she cowered in fear.
"This is the worst day of my life! First, my mother ditched me! Saying she forgot about meeting me today, preferring to meet up with that bitch cousin of mine! And then this?! Ugh! Why is this happening to me?! Aaaargh!!!" Aurora screamed, startling her.
"I.. I'm sorry, Miss Watson." She stammered again.
"You! You are responsible for this!" She said, shaking the shoe box in her hands.
"I need this for the gala this Saturday. You have to buy me a new one!" Aurora demanded.
"But.. but I don't have that much money, Aurora." She protested.
"It's Miss Watson to you!" Aurora protested.
"Yes, Miss Watson. I.. I'm sorry." She stammered yet again.
"How much money do you have?" She asked.
"I.. umm.. about nine hundred dollars." She replied.
"Fine, give me the money and I'll cut the rest from your pay." Aurora demanded.
"But.. I need it for the rest of the month. For food and things. I have nothing else." She protested.
"Well, you live here, you can just eat whatever is in the employee kitchen. I doubt you will need anything else." Aurora stated and she sighed in defeat.
"Go and get your money. I'm going to Jimmy Choo now and you're coming with me!" Aurora demanded and she didn't have a choice but to obey.
She sighed as she trudged slowly to her room and picked up her wallet. She counted the bills in it and indeed, she only had nine hundred and sixty five dollars. She was about to keep the sixty five dollars in her pocket when Aurora suddenly entered her room and snatched her wallet from her hand, startling her.
"Nine hundred and sixty five dollars. I'm taking all of this. I knew you had more, you lying bitch." Aurora snapped and she felt like her words had stabbed her heart. How dare she talked to her like that?!
Aurora threw the empty wallet back into her hand and she turned around, leaving her seething with anger.
For a split second she felt like running, just running away from that awful place and going back to her apartment and just find another job. She couldn't stand being yelled and cursed at like that. But then she realized she didn't have any money at all except maybe ten dollars in her savings account. If she left, she wouldn't have any money to buy food for the rest of the month. If she stayed, she could at least eat from the employee's kitchen until the end of the month when Aurora hopefully would pay her the rest of her salary.
She sighed then took a deep breath as she finally decided to stay, at most until the end of the month. After that she would definitely resign.
"Y/n! Come here!" Just then Aurora's loud yelling could be heard. She sighed then went out of her cell, trying hard to contain her anger.
"Come with me. We're going to Jimmy Choo and then to the vet. I think Paris' diarrhea got worse. Her room is full of her poop. You were supposed to tell me and clean up her room! What an incompetent assistant you are!" Aurora protested, shaking her head as she gave her a small dog crate with Paris barking in it.
"But I cleaned her room already! She must have pooped again when we were talking." She defended herself as she carried Paris' crate.
"Well clearly her diarrhea hasn't gotten any better then. So come. Don't you dare protest again or I'll fire you! Got that?!" Aurora threatened and she nodded, gritting her teeth.
"Good. Now come on!" Aurora demanded and she turned around and walked towards the front door. She sighed and reluctantly started to follow her out of the house.
"Have you come up with the Spanish sentence I can say tomorrow at the interview?" Aurora asked her later on when they were in the vet's waiting room, waiting for the vet to see them. They already bought a new pair of Jimmy Choo shoes earlier.
"Oh, I haven't. Sorry." she replied.
"You really are an incompetent assistant. You're so useless. If Seb didn't promise me the role in Pumping Black I would never have hired you." Aurora complained and once again she felt like her heart had been stabbed.
"I'm sorry. I'll try and come up with something." She said, trying hard not to lose her temper.
"Well you better." Aurora huffed.
That night Aurora asked her to watch over Paris again while she went out with her friends. Paris apparently caught some kind of stomach bug and the vet had given her some medicines, which she was supposed to give Paris twice a day.
Paris still had diarrhea after they came back from the vet so she ended up having to clean her liquid poop multiple times, much to her disgust. She locked herself in Paris' room with Paris that night so that she didn't leave liquid poop all over the house. She sat on a sofa by the window with the window open so that she didn't suffocate in the room. Despite having cleaned all the poop in the room, there was still some residual smell that just didn't go away and if she didn't open the window she might just throw up.
She glanced at the golden castle, no sound or movement could be heard from it. It seemed Paris had fallen asleep, much to her relief. She opened her cellphone and started to type up some sentences in both English and Spanish for Aurora's interview the next day. She wondered why Aurora didn't just use Google translate or something. She realized that she might be that stupid. She chuckled internally.
¿Hola, cómo estás? Mi nombre es Aurora y estoy feliz de estar aquí hoy.
(Hello, how are you? My name is Aurora and I'm happy to be here today.)
She stared at the sentence on her cellphone screen and suddenly an idea popped into her head. She started typing and couldn't help but laugh as she typed.
¿Hola, cómo estás? Mi nombre es Aurora y soy una perra narcisista a la que le encanta acosar a la gente.
(Hello, how are you? My name is Aurora and I'm a narcissistic bitch who loves to harass people.)
She laughed again as she said the sentence out loud. After all the things Aurora had done to her, she seriously contemplated on giving her the second sentence to say. It would be very interesting and rewarding to see her humiliate herself. She imagined seeing the interviewer's reaction when Aurora said that and how awkward it must be after that. Especially if Aurora didn't realize what she just said.
Her happiness imagining the situation was short lived however as a sadness crept into her heart. No, she wasn't that kind of person. She imagined if the situation was reversed. How embarrassed she would feel. Not to mention Aurora would most likely fire her over that. She sighed as she decided to just give her the first sentence.
As if on cue Aurora crashed the door open and walked in.
"Y/n.. there you are. My little Cinderella." Aurora said, giggling as she walked closer to her. She seemed to be drunk as she couldn't even walk straight.
"How is Paris? Is she still pooping?" Aurora asked, stopping in front of her. She scrunched up her nose as the smell of alcohol wafted into her nose.
"Umm.. the last time she pooped was two hours ago." She replied as she put her cellphone back in her pocket and stood up.
"Okay... okay. That's.. that's good, right?" Aurora asked, her speech a little slurred.
"Well, I think. She's sleeping now so hopefully it is a good sign." She replied, stepping back a little.
"Okay. Good." Aurora nodded then she suddenly keeled over to the front and put her arm around her shoulder, startling her.
"I don't feel so good." Aurora mumbled.
"You're drunk. Come on, let's go and get to your room." She replied as she started to help Aurora walk to her room.
Aurora was quiet and let her drag her to her room. She placed her gently on the bed and helped to remove her shoes. Aurora immediately closed her eyes and seemed to have fallen asleep. She shook her head as she set her shoes away. She was about to leave the room when Aurora suddenly croaked.
"Thanks mom."
She paused and turned around but Aurora already had her eyes closed. She wondered if she was hearing things. She sighed then decided to just leave as she started to feel sorry for Aurora. It seemed being ditched by her mother really affected her.
She went back to Paris' room and was relieved to see she was still sleeping so she went back to her cell.
She stared at the ceiling of her cell again that night wondering how things could even get worse for her today. She was officially broke. She was poor and had no money. Something she never thought she would experience. She missed having enough money so that she could have any breakfast she wanted from any cafe she wanted without thinking whether she would get broke after that. She missed having more than ten dollars in her savings account and not worrying whether she had enough money to survive until the end of the month. Heck, she missed just having control of her own life and not becoming someone else's slave!
She sighed and contemplated trying to get another IT job. Clearly her acting career was going bad. She had tried audition after audition but had not received any call back yet. Even though Sebastian said she was good but apparently not good enough for people to cast her into anything, she thought sadly. But she remembered Sebastian's Japanese co-star and Sebastian himself. How long it took for them to succeed. She had only tried actively auditioning for a month, surely she could try again. If she truly wanted an acting career she should be patient and keep on trying, no matter how hard it was. Besides, she already paid to enroll in a part time acting class at her conservatory for that whole month. It would be a waste of money if she stopped trying in her acting career.
Yes, she shouldn't be too impatient. She could at least give acting a year to try and maybe after a year she could see what happens next. In the meantime, her main concern was to find another job after she resigns as Aurora's PA at the end of the month. She decided to ask her roommates tomorrow and also Google some job vacancies tomorrow. Hopefully she will have some free time tomorrow.
Unfortunately her wish didn't come true yet again. From early in the morning she was already busy. She forgot to close her bedroom door and forgot to lock Paris' room so that Paris ended up in her room that morning.
She woke up with a start as she heard Paris' barks. She grabbed her glasses from the nightstand and put it on. She looked down and saw Paris looking up at her and then she barked and started walking around her room. Then she barked again and went out of her room. It seemed she wanted her to follow her. So she got out of the bed reluctantly and followed Paris out of her room.
Apparently Paris waited at the kitchen door then continued to run inside.
"Paris! Hold on! Wait!" She called out as she started to run after her.
She got inside the house and saw Paris sprinting up onto the second floor. She sprinted up as well, her heart beating fast in her chest, wondering if something had happened to Aurora.
Paris slipped into Aurora's room and she followed her inside. The first thing she saw was a huge puddle of vomit in the middle of the bed and then she heard the sound of Aurora, vomiting in the bathroom.
Of course, Aurora had a hangover. She sighed. She should have realized. She glanced at the clock on the wall and it was 6 in the morning. Rosa or Gabriella had not arrived yet. She needed to deal with this by herself, much to her disgust.
She decided to check on Aurora first before dealing with the vomit on the bed.
She went to the bathroom and saw Aurora hunched over above the toilet, her chest heaving. She looked absolutely awful.
"Excuse me, Miss Watson. I'm sorry. Do you need any help?" She asked slowly.
Aurora jumped in surprise then stared at her angrily.
"Never ever come into my room uninvited!" Aurora croaked.
"I.. I'm sorry Miss Watson. Paris woke up and led me here. I thought you might need some help." She explained.
"Fine." She sighed and held the side of her head. "My head hurts so much. And I puked on my bed." Aurora said.
"I'll clean your bed Miss Watson. But is there anything I can help you with before I do that? Do you need any help getting back into bed?" She asked in concern.
"I can't go back into bed unless it's clean, you idiot!" Aurora yelled and she sighed.
"Okay, I'll clean it now, Miss Watson." She nodded.
"Wait! Help me up and help me get to the kitchen. I'm thirsty." Aurora said, extending her hand up to her.
She nodded and immediately helped Aurora up from the bathroom floor.
She ended up making Aurora a ginseng drink and some toast to help her deal with the hangover. By the time she was done, Rosa came and took over taking care of Aurora while she cleaned up the bed.
She scrunched her nose as the smell of vomit wafted into her nose. She already wore a mask but she could still smell the vomit, making her gag and wanted to vomit herself. She decided to breathe through her mouth as she continued to clean the sheet and eventually changed it with a new one.
She was putting the sheet in the washing machine when Rosa came in and looked for her.
"Y/n? Aurora is looking for you. She's in the living room by the kitchen." Rosa said.
"Oh okay. Could you continue with this for me?" She asked as she gestured at the sheets in the washing machine.
"Oh sure. Just leave it." Rosa nodded.
"Thank you Rosa." She smiled and Rosa smiled back.
"No problem Y/n. Good luck." Rosa replied and she sighed as she heard her. Luck. She definitely needed that since six months ago, and more.
"Miss Watson? Is there anything I can do for you?" She asked as she arrived in the living room. Aurora was lying down on the sofa, her hand massaging her head and her eyes were closed.
Aurora opened her eyes and squinted as she continued to massage her head.
"Yes, a lot. The interview with the Spanish magazine is scheduled this afternoon at two, here. I need you to set up the place for the interview and then prepare my outfit for it. I also need you to order the food and drink for the people from the magazine and my team. I also need you to watch over Paris again. Make sure she has her medicine and monitor whether she still has diarrhea or not. And then clean her room." Aurora replied.
"Oh okay." She nodded.
"Are you taking notes? I don't want you to mess up again. Take notes!" Aurora commanded.
"Y.. yes Miss Watson, let me get a pen and paper." She nodded and immediately went to her room to grab some.
Aurora's instructions for the day were four pages long. She had a headache already just writing them. Aurora definitely was a perfectionist.
"Did you get all that?" Aurora asked once she was done writing the last instruction.
"Yes, Miss Watson." She nodded.
"Good. I need some aspirin. Go and get me some." Aurora commanded.
"Right away, Miss Watson." She nodded.
After taking the aspirin Aurora went back to sleep while she went to work. So much for taking the time to look for a job vacancy. She sighed as she went up to the second floor to check on Paris.
"So, does she get drunk often?" She asked Gabriella later on in the kitchen.
She was studying the instructions Aurora gave her earlier after ordering through DoorDash the food and drink for the magazine crew. The papers which were filled with instructions laid on the table. Gabriella was having some breakfast in front of her. A cup of coffee and a piece of toast were on the table in front of her.
"Well, if she doesn't get what she wants, usually." Gabriella shrugged as she bit the last piece of her toast.
"It's hard to imagine her not getting what she wants with all of these facilities, riches and connections she has." She commented.
"Yeah, it is for people like us. But I guess it's true that no amount of money can buy happiness." Gabriella responded.
"Yeah, you're right. Although having any money at all right now would make me very happy." She commented as she started to feel her eyes start to water.
"Oh.. Y/n.. I know what you mean. Don't worry, you'll get through this. And, I know I barely have enough money myself, but if you need to borrow some, just let me know, okay?" Gabriella said, smiling at her.
"Thanks Gabriella. I appreciate it." She smiled back.
"Of course." Gabriella smiled.
"By the way, for someone like Aurora, don't you think it's weird that she asked me to come up with a Spanish sentence to say for today's interview? I mean, I would have thought, with all the money she has, she could learn Spanish or German or whatever. Or she could just consult Google translate!" She commented.
"Y/n, she's a spoiled brat who doesn't need to do anything. Her whole life is already guaranteed. And she doesn't like to work hard. She just likes doing the easy work but gets paid a lot which is why she is more focused on the modeling part and influencer part rather than the acting part. There's no way she has the patience to learn another language. She doesn't even want to take up acting lessons and she believes herself to be good enough as it is." Gabriella explained.
"Hmm.. I see." She said as she sipped her milk tea.
"What sentence did you come up with by the way?" Gabriella asked.
"Oh, just a general sentence." She said as she picked up an empty paper and started writing down the sentence.
"I just came up with this." She said as she showed the sentence to Gabriella.
"Hmm.. yeah. That could work. You know what would be hilarious though is if you get her to say this." Gabriella said with a twinkle in her eyes.
"¿Hola, cómo estás? Mi nombre es Aurora y soy una perra vaga a la que no le gusta trabajar pero ama el dinero, así que haré cualquier cosa fácil para conseguirlo. Incluyendo convertirse en una novia falsa."
("Hello, how are you? My name is Aurora and I'm a lazy bitch who doesn't like to work but loves money so I'll do anything easy to get some. Including becoming a fake girlfriend.")
Gabriella said and she laughed out loud.
"Wait! Fake girlfriend? What do you mean?" She asked, her eyes widened.
"Oh.. It's just a rumor but.. I think we can see that Sebastian and her are not in a real relationship." Gabriella shrugged.
"Really?!" She asked in disbelief. Somehow a glimmer of hope entered her heart, as much as she hated it because she was sure Sebastian would never fall for someone like her.
"I mean, Sebastian never stayed here long. He never stayed overnight. At least, that's what I can gather. I do leave at seven at night but in the morning when I cleaned up Aurora's room I never found it to be.. umm.. you know. There was just no evidence of any activity during the night involving two people who are supposed to be a couple." Gabriella said, blushing a little.
She was speechless when she heard it. "That's.. wow."
"Yeah.. I don't know if they probably go to his place or whatever. You know. But he rarely comes here. Which is just weird, isn't it?" Gabriella continued.
"It is weird." She said as her mind went to Lara and the Sebastian Stan fandom, thinking of giving them the tea to one of Sebastian's gossip blogs. But then she quickly decided against it. She would probably just tell Lara and ask her to keep it a secret. Knowing Sebastian personally, she didn't want to spread private information about him, especially something controversial like this.
"Yeah. Anyway, it would be hilarious to see her say that to the interviewer." Gabriella laughed.
"Oh I'm sure it would be." She chuckled.
"I actually came up with another sentence." She said mischievously as she started to write down the second sentence on a different paper and showed it to Gabriella.
Gabriella laughed upon seeing it. "Now that is the truth."
"I know, right?" She chuckled.
"Anyway, I have to prepare the living room for the interview." She said as she folded both papers with the sentences on them and put them in her pocket.
"Alright. Come on. I'll help you." Gabriella said as she stood up.
She spent the rest of the morning until lunch time doing all that Aurora asked so that by the time Aurora woke up again, everything was ready. She even skipped lunch because she was so busy.
"Y/n! Have you thought of the Spanish sentence I can say during the interview?" Aurora asked while her hair was being styled by her hair stylist, Jenny, the woman with long brunette hair and glasses. They were in Aurora's room helping Aurora get ready for the interview which was scheduled in an hour.
"Yes, I have." She said as she pulled out a piece of paper where she had written the sentence earlier.
"Here it is." She said as she gave the folded paper to Aurora.
"What does it mean?" Aurora asked, as she opened the paper and studied it.
"It means: Hello, how are you? My name is Aurora and I'm happy to be here today." she replied.
"Okay." Aurora nodded as she looked at the paper and started to say them out loud.
Her cellphone buzzed just then, the food and drink had arrived so she excused herself to take care of them, leaving Aurora to practice saying the sentence by herself.
An hour later she stood behind the camera crew as she watched Aurora sitting on the sofa while Jenny, her hair stylist fixed her hair and Jo, the Asian man who was apparently her stylist, fixed her clothes. The interviewer, who was a Spanish woman, sat on a sofa across from her. She had her own stylist fixing her look.
"Alright, can we start now?" The Spanish woman asked as soon as her stylists were done.
"Yes, of course." Aurora nodded and smiled as her stylists finally finished and stepped away from her.
"One.. two.. three.. rolling." One of the crew members clapped a clapperboard, signaling the start of the interview.
"Welcome to Hola special segment. We are here at one of Hollywood's most popular actress, model and influencer, Aurora Watson's home. Thank you for welcoming us here, Aurora." The Spanish woman said, smiling.
"¿Hola, cómo estás? Mi nombre es Aurora y soy una perra narcisista a la que le encanta acosar a la gente." Aurora said and her heart dropped to her stomach. Aurora said the second sentence! She must have given her the wrong paper!
There was silence in the room after Aurora said it then the interviewer laughed. "That's.. uh.. very interesting thing to say about yourself, Aurora."
"Oh.. uh.. yeah. Is it?" She asked in confusion.
"Yes, of course. I'm sure you meant that as a joke. I mean, no one would call themselves narcissistic and love to harass people deliberately unless it's a joke. Right?" The interviewer asked, raising her eyebrows.
Slowly understanding dawned on Aurora's face and she glanced at Y/n, giving her a murderous look for a split second then her face changed completely and she laughed.
"Of course it was a joke." Aurora said and the interviewer seemed to exhale in relief and she continued the interview.
She looked down in defeat a couple of hours later, once the interview was over and all the magazine crew and Aurora's stylists were gone. She was in the living room with Aurora, being scolded on like a school child being scolded on by her teacher.
"Are you happy? Having humiliated me like that?!" Aurora scolded her and she cowered in fear.
"Answer me!" Aurora yelled, startling her.
"N.. no.. Miss Watson." She shook her head vigorously.
"Liar! I bet you loved seeing it! You know, I thought you were a nice girl who would just obey me and ask no questions. Apparently you have a dark side don't you?" Aurora snarled.
"It was a mistake, Miss Watson! I.. I didn't mean to give you that paper. I gave you the wrong paper!" She defended herself.
"Well.. even if you did, you still took the time to write that sentence in that paper. Meaning you fully intended to humiliate me!" Aurora stated and she knew she lost the debate.
"Thankfully I wasn't that stupid and could still pull it off as a joke. So your attempt at humiliating me failed miserably. I know you think I'm going to fire you over this. But no. Firing you will just make you happy. Wouldn't it?" Aurora hissed and she just stayed quiet, knowing whatever she said would be futile.
"I'm not gonna fire you and give you the satisfaction. No. Instead.. I'm going to make your life.. a living hell." Aurora threatened and gave her an evil smile, striking fear in her heart.
True to her promise, for the rest of the day and the day after, Aurora made sure she was in living hell. Aurora asked her to replace Gabriella and Rosa and do all their tasks, from cleaning, cooking, ironing clothes and doing the laundry, taking care of Paris too, cleaning her room and taking her out for a walk. Aurora even asked her to wash her car and clean the pool and the garden. She barely had time for herself.
On Friday Aurora went even further by asking her to move furniture around in the house as she said she suddenly had an inspiration to change the decor in her house. Nelson, Rosa and Gabriella thankfully helped her move the heavy furniture but Aurora asked her to do the finishing touches even down to changing the light bulbs of the chandelier in the living room.
She was kind of afraid of heights so she took the time to get up on the ladder. She finally reached the topmost ladder and started to change the lightbulb when someone called out to her.
"Y/n! What are you doing?!" Sebastian's voice traveled to her ears, startling her and her feet slipped on the ladder. One moment she was up on the ladder, reaching out to change a light bulb and the next she felt herself falling down the ladder. She closed her eyes, fully expecting to hit the floor hard but when she opened her eyes, somehow she was in Sebastian's arms.
"Ooof! I got you there." Sebastian said, swaying a little as he caught her in his arms.
She immediately blushed upon seeing his face being so close to her. He gazed at her warmly and once again she felt like he was seeing into her soul, making her heart beat so fast in her chest.
"Thank you, Sebastian. For saving my life." She finally said after a while and he laughed as he set her down on the floor.
"Oh no problem, Y/n. It was my fault anyway. I shouldn't have surprised you like that." He chuckled.
"Yeah, you did scare me." She protested and he laughed again.
"Anyway, let me help you change the lightbulbs. You just stay down here where it's safe." He said as he snatched the lightbulb from her hand.
"Thanks. You really are a lifesaver. I don't really like heights." She said, feeling so grateful for him as she picked up a box with new lightbulbs in it. The chandelier had ten lightbulbs in it and Aurora wanted her to change them all.
"Me neither." Sebastian said as he slowly took step by step up the ladder. "I'm always nervous in airplanes."
"Yeah, me too. I mean, with airplanes it's even worse. There is nothing holding us to earth except gravity and at any moment something can go wrong and we could fall twenty thousand feet to the ground to our deaths." She shuddered and Sebastian laughed.
"Well I'm gonna remember that line now every time I go on a flight." He commented.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She said as she gave him the second lightbulb.
"It's okay, Y/n." He chuckled.
"So, how is everything?" Sebastian asked as he finished changing the second lightbulb.
"Umm.. good.. everything is.. good." She said slowly, not willing to share that she had screwed up twice and almost got herself fired and that she was basically broke.
"Good to hear that. You know, I thought you would have asked to resign by now. Apparently you're more resilient than that." He chuckled.
"Well, at this moment I feel I have no option. Besides, I owe you Sebastian. You made me get this job and I don't want to disappoint you." She said as she gave him the third lightbulb and blushed as Sebastian smiled at her warmly.
"You remember on your first day I said that it's okay if you want to resign? No need to think about me? Right? So, just remember that. Okay?" He said and she nodded.
"So, how are you, Sebastian? What brings you here, if you don't mind me asking?" She asked as she was suddenly reminded of Gabriella's comment of Aurora being his fake girlfriend.
"I'm good, thanks. I'm here because Aurora asked me to come for a fitting with her stylist. We're going to this gala event hosted by Amore tomorrow night and she wants our outfit to match." He explained.
"Oh I see." She nodded.
So, he came for work purposes. She mentally noted. She just realized that ever since she started working with Aurora, he really never came to visit her. He only came early that week to drive her here. He did meet with Aurora on her second day but that was because they had a photoshoot together. But he didn't come to visit on Wednesday or Thursday. She couldn't help but feel that it was really weird but then there was always the possibility that he was just too busy on those days. Still, her gut feeling said that he really was faking it with Aurora. Especially with the way he behaved around her, like he couldn't stand her. She couldn't believe that those Sebastian fans who thought Sebastian and Aurora were a PR couple was true. Lara was apparently right. She thought in disbelief.
"Seb?! What are you doing?" Aurora's voice could be heard and her heart dropped to her stomach.
"Hey Aurora. I'm just helping Y/n out, changing the lightbulbs." Sebastian said, waving a little at her.
"Seb! Get down here now! I asked her and not you to change the lightbulbs. I need you for the fitting right now!" Aurora commanded.
"Alright, okay. Calm down." Sebastian sighed as he started to go down the ladder.
"Sorry." He whispered to her as he walked past and she just nodded.
"Y/n! As soon as you're done changing the lightbulbs, come to my room. I need you for a fitting too!" Aurora demanded.
"Oh! A fitting?" She asked in confusion.
"Yes, I need you to come to the gala tomorrow. I need someone to carry the trail of my dress." Aurora replied and her heart dropped to her stomach.
The day of the gala was a Saturday, she had an acting class she was supposed to attend. She thought she would have weekends off but she forgot to ask specifically whether she would get weekends off. She knew she was in a really bad position to ask Aurora about it, but she had to ask for her own good.
"Miss Watson, I'm really sorry. Do you think you can give me a day off every Saturday? Because I have an acting class every Saturday. And I'm afraid I can't come with you to the gala." She slowly said.
"What makes you think that I can give you Saturdays off? Especially after what you did! No! You are coming with me tomorrow! And you will be working for me every weekend, Saturday and Sunday. No days off for you!" Aurora spat.
"Aurora.. " Sebastian started but he was cut off.
"Seb! She's my assistant, stay out of it! You don't know the mess she had made and how she had humiliated me the other day. She doesn't deserve a day off!" Aurora yelled.
"Look, whatever she did, she still has the right for a day off every week. Maybe you can at least give her one day off every Sunday." Sebastian protested.
Aurora didn't respond immediately, her eyebrows furrowed in anger, her chest heaving.
"Fine. Sunday. I can give you Sundays off." Aurora finally said. "Now come on, Seb. Jo is waiting." Aurora said as she dragged Sebastian by the arm. Sebastian didn't have a choice but to follow her. He glanced back at her and she mouthed a thank you at him. He smiled and nodded a little at her then continued to follow Aurora out of the living room.
She sighed as she continued to climb up the ladder and changed the remaining lightbulbs. There goes the money she had paid for the acting class. She thought sadly. The part time acting class was only held every Saturday as the conservatory was closed every Sunday. She wondered if she could ask her acting teacher Miss Davidson to give her private acting lessons every Sunday instead. But then again, she was broke. How was she supposed to pay Miss Davidson? She sighed. There was no other option but to stay working for Aurora until the end of the month. After that she would find another job and enroll again into the part time acting class. She hoped the conservatory would allow all the tuition she had paid to roll over for another month so she wouldn't lose her money for nothing.
Despite all the positivity she tried to inject into her mind to make her stay and work for Aurora, something happened that afternoon that made her change her mind.
After she was finished changing all the lightbulbs, she went upstairs into Aurora's room. Aurora's stylist Jo was putting a light blue suit onto Sebastian. He looked extremely handsome with white buttoned up shirt, light blue pants and light blue suit jacket. His hair was pulled back slickly into a neat man bun.
Meanwhile Aurora wore a white embroidered dress with a plunging neckline and mermaid skirt and tons of crystal applique on the bodice and skirt. She couldn't help but think as if they were preparing for a wedding with what they were wearing. And as much as she hated it, she could feel the heaviness of jealousy again in her heart. She stared at them both and saw how amazing they looked together. She could never look like that, she thought sadly.
"Excuse me." She called out.
"Oh, there you are." Aurora said, looking at her from where she was standing near the walk in closet.
"Jo, once you're done with Seb, could you help find something for her? Even though I doubt you can find anything good for her with her looking like that." Aurora chuckled.
"Aurora.." Sebastian warned her and Aurora shrugged.
"What? I was just saying the obvious." Aurora protested.
"You don't need to mock her like that. Honestly." Sebastian shook his head.
"Oh shut up, Seb. I'm tired of you defending her all the time." Aurora protested.
"I wouldn't need to defend her if only you could behave yourself." Sebastian protested and an awkward silence fell on the room.
"Behave myself!? She was the one that started it! She is an incompetent bitch who ruined my shoes and deliberately humiliated me during the interview yesterday!" Aurora finally broke the silence.
"What?" Sebastian asked, dumbfounded.
Aurora proceeded to explain what happened. Sebastian looked baffled as Aurora explained everything, from her point of view, of course. At the end of her tirade Sebastian glanced at her and she could see a look of disappointment on his face.
"Aurora, despite everything she did, you don't have the right to mock her like that." Sebastian finally said, turning to look at Aurora.
"Oh please!" Aurora scoffed.
"Aurora, enough. I'm done. I think the suit fits. I have to go." Sebastian said as he started to take off his suit jacket, gave it to Jo and then he went to the bathroom. He glanced at her as he passed but the warm look in his eyes that he usually gave her was gone, replaced by disappointment. She felt like her heart broke as she looked at how he looked at her. She looked down as he continued to walk past her. Her heart shattered as she felt immense guilt for disappointing him.
Sebastian left without saying a word to her when she was busy with Jo picking a dress for herself, making her feel even more guilty.
"Alright, with a body like yours it's really hard to find anything that fits!" Jo announced in frustration.
Once again she felt like her heart had been stabbed.
"And this face. I don't think any hairstyle would fit either." Jenny complained as she grabbed her chin with her fingers and moved it to face her.
She felt like crying as she heard both stylists mocked her. She now knew why Aurora seemed to get along with them. They had equally rotten hearts.
In that moment she realized she didn't want anything else to do with them anymore. Not with Aurora, Jo, Jenny, not even Sebastian. He was already disappointed in her. She felt it was better that she just resign. She could just borrow some money from Lara or her roommates for the rest of the month until she gets a new job.
Yes, after the gala was done she would resign. For her own good she would resign and there was nothing in the world that could stop her from resigning.
Except, there was.
Chapter 9>
Taglist @dhoruwolfie
41 notes · View notes
swagging-back-to · 11 months
Text
this is gonna be a heavy vent post btw
i dont normally post this much information about what i went through but im really going through it rn
tw csa, child abuse, child neglect, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, and adoptive abuse.
so as many of yall know, i am a hispanic southwest asian who was adopted by a white couple. you may also know that i was emotionally and financially abused by these people.
ive been very vocal about the emotional abuse they put me through and the neglect i endured because of them, how they would steal all my money and the thousand dollar check the state would send them every month to give me basic necesities. how i never saw a single penny of that check, and had to buy everything for myself since i was 5 years old by penny pinching and begging other family members for change.
ive also been vocal about being molested by my female adopter since i was a baby all the way up until i became 14-- when the molestation stopped and the sexual abuse turned more into inappropariate comments and peeping on me.
what i never really realized until this morning was that it was also physical abuse when i was a toddler. i realized, all of a sudden, that no... a 2-3yos arms do not just completely dislocate all on their own. it doesnt just happen because i tripped and fell. let alone multiple times in the same year. I saw the medicql records. it was complete dislocation that the doctors even noted on paper they were concerned about. i remembered hearing my female abuser joke about how she ripped my arm out of socket on purpose because i was going up the stairs too slow. i was literally 2 years old.
and then i remembered the burn scar i have on my hand. the one that still itches because of how severe it was. it was almost a third degree burn because my abuser put my hand on a burning propane tank whrn i was 3 years old and held it there.
i remember the incident very clearly. i also remember how they didnt take me to the hospital for 3 days, and only did because i would go to daycare and they would see the abuse & report it.
it's been a pretty intense morning remembering all of this and realizing just how bad this all was. i mean, i obviously was outraged by the neglect, csa, and emotional abuse... but it's just been very eye opening for me. how much else do i not remember? what am i forgetting? what am i blocking out? i know for a fact im probably unaware of a majority of what i went through. as very few of you know, i was diagnosed with osdd1a in 2020. my dissociation is very severe, even in day to day tasks. i dont want to know what im not remembering from childhood, especially if the stuff i *do* remember is this bad. is this horrific.
and this is exactly why we need to shut down the entire notion that fosterparents and people who adopt are "heroes" who are saving children from bad situations. a good portion of them are just as abusive, if not worse, than the childs biological family they were removed from. dont get me wrong, adopting and fostering is insurmountably better than bringing new children into the world. but it shouldnt be a way to gain clout. it should just be something good people do because children need to be protected. the vetting process for all adoptions, private and public, needs to be much more intense than just "take a parenting class and have a scheduled social services visit to see the home."
i reported my abuse to multiple health care professionals. when i was falsely imprisoned in st marys by my abusers i told them explicitly the abuse i was enduring. what happened as a result? a troubled teens monitor came and evaluated me every month to see if i needed to be locked away in the woods and abused even more and joked with my abuser abput how awful i was and how she shouldnt have to put up with me.
it's just been a lot. im so angry about all the shit i had to go through. no fuxking child deserves that. no one deserves that.
0 notes
kleinmorales87 · 1 year
Text
12 Music Success Kickstart Strategies
So have got printed your organization cards towards the PC, an individual also know anyone who can design eye-catching posters for your band. Do you really require a simulated? You bet. One of the best calling cards that a band get is a recorded demo of your sound. It's not just a vital component for the good press kit; on the will also stand alone. A demo will display your style of music, degree of proficiency, as well as can capture your bands unique sound. Have the digital camera bodies cleaned every months. More often if you shoot lots of. mixcraft Torrent and dirt create havoc in very best equipment, because every time you change lens or film roll, environmental contaminants (dust and flying particles being the very worst foods.) will find a home the actual world nooks and crannies of the camera. The expensive high-end cameras that Nikon and Canon make have amazing dust and moisture push back. as long as they are closed shut! For the purely creative part of doing beats I do not need way more than my computer and also inspiration. I had to spend a while to embrace the involving using software to make beats. It sometimes feels like cheating. Car windows I think of the thousands of dollars I've saved within the last five years, I get rid of it. A quick word about snare tool. Employ your whole snare head to buy range of countless sounds. mixcraft Crack tends to pop with less resonance. The outer snare edges naturally escalating "ring" the further out you mixcraft pro studio. Creatively employ your different snare sounds for a variety of musical parts. And I'm quite there is weaknesses in it's class provides as many features. To obtain an idea of what I'm talking about I are listed some of it's features below. 1)The value of his time - An expert engineer isn't cheap (but could considerably cheaper than trying to record yourself) but they know that his time deserves X money. How is this an advantage? How interesting that humans rise to meet a job. When you go in knowing that you might be about to invest $20, $30, or $50 an hour on recording all of one's sudden you are the in order to get with his guitar setup before. You make sure your songs are mega tight and ready. You get your butt in gear because heading to spend some money. When your guitar players explain to you that he thinks he has recording device working right, you don't jump up get bustling. You get frustrated while he efforts to figure the actual problems on channel 1 and a number of. Along the new DAW, please purchase a high quality condenser mike. If you spend anywhere from $100-$500, you should be in great condition. But if your budget can spare, spend $1,000+. This alone will set you over the majority of rappers that record their vocals inside your house. You get what you pay for, numerous experts definitely notice a difference in the crispness of one's voice. Hopefully this article will allow you choose a good craft session bass player who'll provide you with custom bass tracks that occasion music individual next . Good luck!
1 note · View note
verdure-vent · 2 years
Text
Vent
0 notes
vneuns · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
— “CHAOTIC DONOS” + Hcs
Tumblr media
author's note(s): it's 2 am im tired and need a shower but by the time you see this i'll be in my bed after having a nice shower and everything
cw warnings: light cursing, and anything else i can't think of rn
Tumblr media
Dream
y/ntookdream donated $250 !
tell chat about the time you ate all of my sushi. I'm still upset about that, just so you know.
it’d start off as a joke-
you randomly donating large amounts of money to your boyfriend when he was streaming mostly because you couldn’t be in the room with him because of how much you were a distraction
and then it became a routine
in the random times he’d stream, you’d join and call him out on something new
“No, I'm not telling them about that. suck it.”
y/ntookdream donated $300 !
piss baby. chat. your streamer isn’t taking accountability for his actions and needs to be canceled.
“gu- chat! what the hell you fucking traitors don’t side with them. I didn't do anything wrong.”
y/ntookdream donated $350 !
chat, don't listen to him. I love you. get this trending on twitter to end his career
“you know what. new limits 1,000 dollars y/n go do some work.”
y/ntookdream donated $1,000 !
haha can’t get rid of me b word. i finished my work already cLaYtOn
the chat always finds it amusing when the two of you start going at it like this
“they’re crazy chat.” he sighed as he went back to running around the smp
after a few moments of silence dream was certain he got rid of you until he got another text to speech dono
y/ntookdream donated $2000 !
i’m back my bank tried stopping me from giving my money to my own boyfriend. can you believe that chat? who do they think they are?
“babe stop giving me money.”
the chat would ofc break out in awhs whenever you two used nicknames on each other because why wouldn’t they
y/ntookdream donated $5000 !
more you say?
“okay stream i’m ending it here before y/n dumps out their life savings.”
George
y/nfoundgeorge donated $100 !
hungry
“then go eat something.”
y/nfoundgeorge donated $200 !
idk what to eat. chat halp.
and then chat does
they just start spamming common american foods despite you living in the uk with george
y/nfoundgeorge donated $600 !
besties we don’t have burgers and fries here. shut your american butts up.
“okay n/n that’s enough.”
and then he has to set the donos to a thousand as well, in attempts to stop you
y/nfoundgeorge donated $1,000 !
never. chat you suck
george shakes his head smiling as he rolls his eyes
y/nfoundgeorge donated $ 1,500 !
Look at my pretty pretty boyfriend all cute and s word
His face heats up as he pretends to not see the dono and take this moment to self promo
“At least i'm getting the money- while you're at it, subscribe and prime now”
Sapnap
y/nsapsbeloved donated $500 !
Just got finished playing valorant feeling like a bad bitch
“Thats my sexc partner-”
y/nsapsbeloved donated 800 !
Shut the f up. Okay be quite
Chat is eating this interaction up ofc since the two of you are always acting like strangers near each other
y/nsapsbeloved donated 900 !
Omg we’re making our way to the thousand mark omg chat so exciting
“Y/n quit donating or i swear to god i'll make you sleep on the couch
Quackity
y/ninity donated $ 450 !
I miss you stop streaming
Quack would laugh and roll his eyes
“I just started streaming and you’re acting like we didn’t see each other five minutes ago
y/ninity donated $ 700 !
Okay and what about it
So then he’s forced to play along
“Guys im SO famous- i could use this money to buy a taylor swift concert ticket”
y/ninity donated $ 1,000 !
Wow is taylor donoing to you? Didn't think so
And now he’s worried
Do you know about his plan to get married to taylor swift after her first concert in La
Karl
y/njacobs donated $ 370 !
Come give me a kiss pls
“Why didn’t you just text me babe?”
y/njacobs donoated $ 450 !
Too much work
Not wanting you to keep donating a shit load of money he gets up goes in the other room and just snatches the phone from your hand
“Wha-what are you-”
And then the next thing you know it’s in his pants
“Thats TOS if you take it out”
Wilbur
wilbursy/n donated $ 560 !
Hi babe <3
First time you donate its very cute and hes like aweee
wilbursy/n donated $ 1,000 !
Love me m...f
Then second time he's not having it
He would then tackle you while everyone is clueless on stream
“AHH!”
And then he comes back with a phone in hand with a very strong grip and you try to wiggle it out and hes just streaming as usual like nothings happening
Quackity and tommy just on call questioning everything
“So how’s everyones day?”
“WIL GIVE ME MY PHONE BACK!”
Tumblr media
@heyskeppy @inniterhq @basilly @yamturds @dysfunctionalcrab @siriushxney @sqpnap @tinyegg @ttakinou @charnease @o-0i @i-mmunity @b3l0v3ds @alice-blue-skies @the-swageyama-tobiyolo @mitzimania
@acidtabletz
4K notes · View notes
i-am-dulaman · 3 years
Text
[long post]
So the other night I was talking to the most insufferable first year business student who insisted trickle down economics was great. He for some reason was, in the middle of a night club, trying to convince me we need more tax cuts for the rich.
Anyway, ignoring that, he has annoyed me into finally doing the research into something called a worker cooperative which has been in the back of my mind for a while now.
So a worker cooperative is essentially a company which is owned by the people who work there. They either elect their own management or, for smaller firms, make management decisions democratically, and they all share in the profits. This is opposed to consumer cooperatives where the business is owned by its customers.
So with that in mind there are two things you need to know:
New Zealand is the only post-industrialized country whose agricultural sector has grown, and its the fastest growing sector of the NZ economy. 
5 of the largest agriculture businesses in NZ are cooperatives, including Fonterra, NZ’s largest company which accounts for ONE THIRD of the ENTIRE WORLDS dairy trade.
Now none of those agriculture companies are actually true worker cooperatives, they’re usually only owned partly by their workers and not all workers have a stake in the company either. For example Fonterra is owned by 11000 of its dairy farmers but has over 10000 other employees who are not owners. But it’s close enough.
So is it a coincidence the best performing sector of the NZ economy is dominated by cooperatives? I have no idea. im just looking at the numbers. But its an interesting correlation.
Worker cooperatives are actually very rare in the world, but there has been some research done on them, particularly in Italy and France and here are some highlights:
They are much more resilient, with the chance of shutting down in its first 3 years of operation between 30% and 50% lower than normal companies when fully controlled for industry/size/etc. 
During the 2008 recession, worker cooperatives in france saw a 4% increase in employment while the unemployment rate in france rose by 0.7%
Salaries were slightly lower on average in France however other studies also showed salaries being slightly higher. This is likely due to the pay distribution, where the CEOs salary will be much lower in a cooperative compared to a CEO in a normal company, thus bringing down the average.
Cooperatives are 6-14% more productive
Employees are much more committed to their work
So in other words, they work.
What’s more is it keeps the profits of the company in the local economy, with all the money going to the workers, instead of shareholders who could be anywhere in the world and would likely just put the money into savings.
However the main draw back is it is hard to get the startup funds to start new companies. Most companies of course start off small with only a handful of workers which means each would need to invest a significant amount of their own money. But I’ll address this problem further below.
Anyway so what’s my point here?
Make every company a worker cooperative by law. That’s my point. Not a 100% worker cooperative, but a law that makes every single company in NZ pay its employees 50% of its profits, on top of their regular salaries.
Now im not an economist so idk anything about this subject. I’m just a socialist who has worked for the government before so i know how inefficient true communism can be when the government owns every business, but i have also worked in a private business that could afford to pay everyone an extra $250,000 but instead gives 1 billion dollars to our australian owners and kept us short staffed and underequiped.
so i wanted an alternative, and this is what i’ve come up with just fooling around with numbers and hypotheticals.
So I would love to see an actual economists take on this, not that i expect to find one on tumblr lol i’m just writing this here cause idk where else to write my thoughts.
So why only 50% of profits instead of 100%?
I think compromise is important. Every revolution failed because of a lack of compromise. revolutionaries pushed the revolution further and further to the extreme which pushed away moderates and sparked counter-revolutionaries. Keeping it to 50% means maybe more moderates will be on board. Keeping it to 50% also means investors are still motivated to invest and receive returns, which solves the biggest problem with worker cooperatives.
I’ve gone and looked at 40 of the largest companies (by revenue, number of employees, or net profit) in NZ, and calculated what it would look like if they paid their employees 50% of their profits evenly. These companies represent about 10% of the NZ workforce.
Tumblr media
Note that some companies can literally afford to pay ALL of their employees HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS of dollars and still keep 50% of their profits. One can even afford to make every single one of its employees a millionaire. (also note that some of this data is even from 2020/2021 with covid severely damaging the economy)
This averages out to $28000 per person. The median income of NZ is $53,000, so that would mean a sudden 52% increase in salary on average.
Not for nothing, it would also lead to an enormous amount of money in circulation, as people with more money will buy more things, and give the economy a massive boost. (The opposite of trickle down economic. Suck it first year business dude.)
I think a law like this would provide a sudden and drastic redistribution of wealth.
And i think it’s worth the time/brainpower of someone who knows more about economics than me.
482 notes · View notes
bangtangalicious · 3 years
Text
cancelled (1) | myg, jjk
summary: you cheated on your boyfriend, one of the most sought after boys on campus, with the nerd from the back of the lecture hall. that’s not the whole story, but only you know that. now a video has leaked across and everyone is turning against you for hurting such a perfect s/o.
pairing: yoongi x reader, jungkook x reader
wordcount: 3k
genre: yandere!yoongi and nerd!jungkook exyandere!jungkook
established-relationship!au college!au cheating!au
warnings: reader discretion is advised. cheating, mentions of past dubcon activity, yandere behavior, guilt, slight oral (f and m receiving), reverse cowgirl, soft smut in a not so soft situation, manipulation, jungkook calls you his pretty baby, sexual harassment, yoongi is lowkey a creep in this, prostitution i guess but like...its not how you'd think, mentions of rape fantasy but it doesnt happen
twoshot: part 1 | part 2 | masterlist
They say that you let a good thing be. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Well in your almost perfect life, that hand was Min Yoongi. Your boyfriend of 2 years now. You met through family, he was an heir, and you were the daughter of a wealthy associate. He used to spend his spring breaks with your family back in high school. You recall fondly how he sneak out, begging you to cover for him, end up passed out drunk in some alley and calling you, scared for his life.
You saw the way he grew—no, blossomed into the amazing man he is. You both got accepted to the same prestigious university program, and it is here your love story truly began. Straight out of a movie, Yoongi did not realize how much he adored you until he saw you grinding your ass up on some random guy at a frat party. A few months of drama gave way to pure happiness.
Yoongi made quite a name for himself on campus. He was incredibly charming, was impressive in his studies, and was always around for a good time. He treated everyone with respect and had no enemies. You felt proud to be his girlfriend, by his side as he made his mark.
And he was so so good to you. While your start may have been driven by jealousy and rage, he made up for it entirely by taking you on weekend getaways, loving you sweetly, holding you while you cry and buying you food. You two were freakishly domestic, and you loved it. You were ready for the ring whenever he was. So blessed that you could wake up every morning in a pair of arms that held you like you were their whole world.
Unfortunately, paradise tends to be a destination never quite reached. You sat, curled up into your knees, trembling as you watched cruel comments pop up on a video.
ungrateful whore.
Yoongi deserves so much better
#y/nisoverparty
why would you even want to cheat on a catch like yoongi? jfc
You didn’t know what bothered you the most. Was it the comments? Was it your fucked out face in the video? You moans that clearly indicated pleasure? Was it the fact that you hurt a man you loved? Or was it the fact that he was still there, sitting right next to you and kissing your damp cheeks every time he saw a tear, mumbling into your neck that it was okay, that he wasn’t mad. Did you deserve someone so perfect?
“Aw baby” He coos at you, stroking your hair as your sobs got louder. You fell into his embrace, unsure of what to think or do. “Ssh…I’m not mad baby. It’s my fault I wasn’t there”
You didn’t know how true his words were. You didn’t know just how at fault he was.
Yoongi had been doing his work in your shared apartment in his private study which even you weren’t allowed to enter. The security footage of your lecture played on his monitor, but he was barely paying attention. He kept an eye on you, but it was getting unnecessary. You had been together for so long, he could trust you now. He sighed and zoomed into where you sat, whispering something to the person seated next to you. They giggled and slid their hand onto your thigh. Yoongi simply watched, a smirk playing on his lips. The whole campus knew you were his. No one would dare make a move on you. He made sure of it. It was the whole reason he made your relationship so visible. He had people’s respect, and so they would respect that you belonged to him.
The hand trailed up your thin yoga pants, cupping your core. You slapped the hand away and Yoongi grinned wider. He liked to test you every now and then.
Yoongi wired money to that man’s bank account through his phone. Now all you had to do was tell him what happened. There was no room for secrets between you two.
“I’m home babe” He heard you walk in. He popped a Xanax and gulped down a glass of water. He smiled at you sweetly, taking your bag and setting it down before attacking your neck with soft, breathless kisses.
“How was your day?” He asked quietly, “Anything interesting happen?”
“Nah. Pretty uneventful” He raised his eyebrows.
“Oh. Nothing at all?”
“Well” Yoongi’s eyes perked. Tell me someone harassed you baby. Just tell me. “I did try this amazing latte at the cafe in the Literature building.”
Why were you lying to him? Yoongi tilted his head. It wasn’t that big of a deal, it just made him wonder what else you hid from him. The little things. The little things that pile up.
Yoongi realized it had gone too far when he heard you gossiping with a few of your girl friends in the hallway of the Science Institute. “I just can’t believe he won’t fuck you. Doesn’t he know how many people would if they had a chance?”
“He seems so perfect but it’s almost like he’s just lacking the one key thing. Dick” They giggled. You rolled your eyes. You had confessed that you really did want to have sex. Yoongi wanted to save himself for marriage, but it was getting hard for you. When you brought this up with Yoongi he shut you down immediately.
“Baby” He fingered the purity ring on his pinky finger, “You know I can’t”
You had been frequently meeting with someone from one of your lab classes, a certain Jeon Jungkook. Yoongi didn’t love this, but he was acquainted with Jungkook, and knew that he likely was not a threat. The boy was not your type at all—his clunky glasses and sweater vests and his hair long and swept back, unlike Yoongi’s fresh blonde cut. Sometimes you wouldn’t tell him that you were with Jungkook, but he still knew. Nothing happened. But he still got irritated.
Unfortunately it was impossible to truly watch you all the time. After all, Yoongi was a social guy and had to make appearances frequently. He often wondered if you knew he watched you, so you waited to run off fuck yourself on Jungkook when he wasn't looking. He bit his lip until blood came out, raging at the prospect.
He wasn’t entirely wrong about you though. You did always feel pressure of behaving in a way that reflected well on him. So when everyone was looking at Yoongi, you were able to slouch your shoulders and relax. You would go to Jungkook’s house for a drink, with no ulterior motive on either of your end. You loved Yoongi. Jungkook respected him, and you. There was no issue.
So when Yoongi showed up at Jungkook’s doorstep a week later with a bag full of cash asking him to fuck his girlfriend, he was disgusted at first.
“E…excuse me?” He stammered, blushing. Yoongi squinted at him.
“Have sex with y/n the next time she is over.” He put on a show, “I just feel bad I cannot give her what she desires. I don’t want to deprive her of anything. I know she is fond of you so if you wouldn’t mind…she is very beautiful I can tell you that”
“I…that’s not…do you realize how insane this is?”
Yoongi shrugged, “It’s twenty-thousand dollars to fuck a pretty girl. What’s so bad?”
“Does she want this? D…do you have her consent to be asking me this?”
“Of course.” He chuckled giving a charming smile, “In fact, she has a bit of a fantasy that I was hoping you could indulge. I am not sure if she will go through with it but, she might try to resist at first, but really she wants to be used like a whore. She will love it, really.”
Jungkook gave him a skeptical look. “What the fuck? You want me to indulge your girlfriend’s rape fantasy? I’m not a fucking sadist”
“It’s not a rape fantasy. She just likes to struggle a bit but then she will get into it. She will want it”
“I can’t believe I am even entertaining this conversation, you need to leave”
“Forty-thousand.”
“Fuck off Yoongi. First of all, I am not even into y/n…” He paused.
“Oh please, she’s the finest thing in miles of here, you just haven’t considered her as available. That’s how I know I can trust you to do this for me.”
Jungkook gulped. That’s not quite it. He thought to himself. But the thought passed when Yoongi took off his watch and handed it to him.
“This is worth half a million dollars. Are we good?”
Jungkook just gaped at him.
“You have had sex before right?”
Oh yes he had. Once. He nodded slowly.
“Okay good. Please show her a good time and keep this between us”
“She knows right? She knows you’re asking me to do this?”
Yoongi grinned and pat Jungkook’s shoulder, “Oh baby boy, she’s the one who suggested it”
Jungkook found that a bit hard to believe.
What Yoongi didn’t know was that Jungkook already has had sex. With you. You didn’t know it was him, and it was long before you began dating Yoongi.
Jungkook had been obsessed with you as a high schooler, your pictures collaging the back of his bathroom door, a variety of your things—forgotten hoodies, dropped pens— messily shoved into the drawer of his desk.
It was an innocent phase at first. You were just so pretty. He couldn’t help the way his blood would rush between his legs every time you would glance in his general direction. He couldn’t help watching the way you outgrew your uniform skirt, almost breaking down in tears when you replaced it with a larger size. He would sneak out of class when you had PE to watch you run, and the way your breasts bounced in the tight top you wore.
You didn’t know him. Why would you? He was no way near your league. He worked extremely hard, dreaming to get into the same university as you on a full ride because his family could never afford it.
Jungkook would normally follow you home, obviously he just wanted to make sure you reached safe. You had been crying the entire walk home. Jungkook had to gather every ounce of self restraint not to go hug you and kiss you until you smiled again. He hated seeing you cry, and it made him want to die.
He was worried about you. You entered your beautiful home, but no one was there. What if you tried to harm yourself? Who would protect you?
He had snuck in through the back.
If anyone had been around, they may have heard a scream. But more likely the would have heard the cries of pleasure that followed.
That evening you told Yoongi you were going to work on stuff with Jungkook. You dressed modestly, not bothering to freshen up much. He watched through his cameras as you arrived into Jungkook’s tiny apartment. So much smaller than his, probably in more ways than one, he clicked his tongue in amusement.
“Hey Jungkook!” You hugged him lightly. He looked extremely uncomfortable which made Yoongi all the more amused.
Two people fucking who both don’t want to. What do you call that? Yoongi chuckled darkly.
“Listen y/n…I know that…I know I agreed but I just wanna make sure…” Jungkook could barely look you in the eye. As destiny would have it, you chose that moment to pull your hoodie off, giving Jungkook a flash of the underside of your breasts. He gulped. “You really don’t remember me do you…”
“What do you mean?” You were so confused. Jungkook licked his lips and crawled over where you were sitting on his couch, causing you to lay on your back. “What…hey what the fuck are you doing?”
He didn’t like your tone. It awoke a protective instinct in him. He stroked your hair and gazed deeply into your eyes. “How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”
You blushed furiously, face heating up dangerously fast at the sudden question. You shifted your neck away from him uncomfortably. “Um…I guess…3, maybe 4 years?”
“Tsk, poor girl.” He cooed, his finger grazed your cheek, “Alright, I’ll play along. You can let me know if you want me to stop okay?” He lowered himself enough to let his lips trace travel down the veins on your neck. He inhaled you, memories of innocent years coming back to him in floods.
You were frozen. His body radiated heat, his scent was giving you a high you couldn’t quite explain. You shouldn’t feel this way. You had sweet sweet Yoongi waiting for you at home. Sweet Yoongi who loved you, and was saving himself for you like the pure angel he is.
You looked up at the soft dark eyes of the man above you now. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu.
“Jungkook” You exhaled as his lips began kissing over your shirt, down the valley of your breasts, lifting your shirt so he could kiss your stomach. “I…I have a boyfriend”
“You’re really committed to this huh?” He chuckled, taking some of his fingers and slowly circling under the waistline of your shorts. You blinked a few times to try to react to what was happening but your body was overwhelmed. It had been so long since you were touched like this.
“Please” You said loudly, so loudly that Jungkook barely hears the “don’t do this” that followed in a whisper.
Jungkook thought back to the night you took his virginity. It hadn’t been on his agenda, he was content following you around and jacking off to your social media accounts every night. That night had changed him. He had realized then that he was messed up. He realized he needed help and he sought it out. A few years of therapy had done him good. He felt guilty about it for a while, but eventually had to grow and move on. He would never act like that again.
But here he was.
And there you were. Below him again. Begging for him through your actions and pushing him away with your words.
Emotions overwhelmed you. Your heart wrenched at the bitter guilt that you were doing the unthinkable. They very thing that you would condemn about other couples. How could you? How could you cheat? But your body was whimpering.
“I have a boyfriend. He’s so good to me. He’s so amazing, and I…I love” You let out a sob as he allowed his hips to roll into you, giving you friction you had craved for so long, “Jungkook…please” You knew he was reading between the lines. You knew he heard your consent, and that disgusted you.
“Mmm I know baby. I know you love him” Jungkook sighed as he pulled down your shorts, “Tell me about him baby. Tell me how much you love him” He began kissing your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.
“He’s so—ahhh” Jungkook took his tongue and pushed aside your underwear to lick a long stripe between your legs. “So good. So fucking…mmmmhhh” You squealed as Jungkook shoved his tongue inside you. The sensation was heavy in your core, but the sensation drove you wild. He flicked his tongue around, almost too easily being able to find all the right places to make you twitch and moan his name.
“Do you want my cock pretty baby? Hmm?” He whispered teasingly, his voice muffling against you as he continued to eat you out. You yelped as he sucked on your clit and nodded your head dumbly. “My little girl so desperate for cock she’d cheat on her boyfriend hm?” He came up for air, your juices messily spread across his lips, his eyes shot with lust.
“Don’t…don’t say that” You whined. Jungkook nodded before pulling off his sweater. You traced his muscles with your fingers, so defined and beautifully tan as he shrugged off his jeans. He took his glasses off and folded them carefully but you grabbed his hand.
“Keep them on…your glasses…” Jungkook’s eyes widened in amusement.
“Why” He teased.
“I like them. I like them a lot. You remind me of someone I used to like” Jungkook’s blood ran cold.
Did you remember?
Did you remember the way he had pinned you up against your kitchen wall back then? The way he left hickies all over your body, marking you as his. The way he had entered you for the first time, with you sprawled out across your dining table, then again on the counter tops, then again from behind pressed up against the window.
Did you remember how many times you both came? It was like a sex fest of hours and hours. In your mouth, on your face, on your tits and buried deep in your cunt, the condom barely surviving the pressure of his seed.
Did you remember the way you cried after in his arms, unable to walk? The way he held you and kissed you softly, apologizing.
Did you remember how he had given you pills so you would forget, hoping that you wouldn’t be sad any longer?
Jungkook had been too lost in thought to notice that you had pulled your own shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, pulling his neck down so you could kiss him.
“Jungkook” You gasped as he finally regained consciousness and dragged his fingers across your pussy.
“Will you ride me baby?” His eyes twinkled in his request and you were more than happy to indulge him. Jungkook switched positions with you. You reverse cowgirled him, unknowingly, the perfect position for Yoongi to see all of you as you fucked yourself silly onto Jungkook’s cock.
You lowered yourself down on him slowly, savoring the stretch that you had almost forgotten you could ever feel. Your fingers could never give you a sensation quite like this. Jungkook shut his eyes and tried to savor the feeling.
“Pretty…pretty baby” He cooed, sitting up so he could nibble your shoulder and hold your hips as he bounced you slowly on his cock.
“Tell me something” He exhaled, feeling himself slowly approaching his orgasm, the feeling of your soft, warm walls around him too much to bear, “Did you want this because of me…or did you just need cock?”
You continued thrusting yourself back into him, the firm hold of his hands on you giving you an arousing sense of comfort. You wiggled your ass, liking the way he would grunt when you did.
“Did you want me baby? Did you do this for me?”
You cried out suddenly, feeling a long awaited orgasm overwhelming your senses. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened as he tried to keep fucking you through it, your body going limp, twitching erraticly.
“So pretty…my sweet sweet girl” He turned your head to kiss your lips, slipping his tongue in and relishing in the love you poured in through your actions. He caressed your breasts and continued to thrust up into you.
“Come inside me” You exhaled softly.
“No y/n…that wouldn’t be right” Jungkook was reminded of the eerily intimidating presence of the man who was paying him to do this. He slowly brought his thrusts to a halt before helping you up off of him, his cock still painfully erect. “I can finish myself”
You pouted, watching him drill his graze into your naked presence, violently stroking his cock. He licked his lips shamelessly.
“I don’t love you anymore y/n” He whispered too softly for you to hear, “I’m over you. I’m over this. This doesn’t mean anything—AAAAhhh” Your mouth was on his cock and that was all it took for him to come harder than he ever had.
He took you into his arms, wrapping them around you and kissing your face over and over again, caressing your hips and trying to relax your muscles so you wouldn’t be sore.
You reached for your phone as Jungkook began to fill the silence.
“Yoongi seems really great. He clearly cares about you a lot. I’m really happy for you, genuinely” He says softly, “I’m honestly really impressed he let this happen”
But you didn’t hear him, all you could hear was your heart drumming loudly in your ears as you saw the stream of notifications on your phone. Your heart dropping like a bomb when you saw the single message you dreaded more than anything.
yoongi: what’s this? <link>
And linked was a live stream of the events that had just transpired.
masterlist                                                       next----->
A/N: im just cackling at #y/nisoverparty HAHA um stream film out! woohoo
350 notes · View notes
1kook · 4 years
Text
hulu & woohoo
Tumblr media
summary: But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings: slight feelings of insecurity, smut; fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, handjobs, unprotected, riding, slight praise kink misc: if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read wc: 6.3k
[ this is a sequel to netflix & chill !! ]
started off silly then I was like 😳what if we sprinkled in a dilemma™️😳 anyway here’s the kook i imagined for this fic <3
Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook does in fact have his own paid subscription to Netflix. He doesn’t ride on his family account anymore, nor does he swindle his friends into sharing their passwords ‘just once.’ Just like everything else about his mature persona, Jungkook is adamant on paying those ten and something dollars for the streaming platform.
However, his fall into capitalism doesn’t end there.
Among other things, Jungkook also pays for Hulu, Amazon Prime, Disney Plus, HBO, as well as a couple indie stuff you’ve never heard of in all your years. He’s a bigger nerd than you originally thought, with an incessant need to watch every single piece of media available.
Frankly, you don’t see the need to own so many different streaming services, especially not when pirating websites exist and you could so easily watch Jersey Shore for free, if you’re not too concerned with infecting your laptop with every software virus known to humankind. Luckily for you, your app developer boo with his—admittedly tiny—knowledge in computers can iron out those issues for you.
It’s moments like these, Jungkook fiddling with the internal system settings of your laptop to the best of his abilities, that you find yourself grateful for having met Jungkook, and even if it’s been a little over two months now and he still hasn’t popped the question (“Will you be my girlfriend?”), you’d still kiss him silly.
He sighs for the umpteenth time, rubbing his eyes as he stares at the same system warning on the screen. “Babe, just pay the six bucks for Hulu and you can watch all the Jersey Shore episodes you want,” he says, leaning back in his chair as he stares at you from across the dining table.
You scoff, almost scandalized by his suggestion. “You think I have the resources to hand over six bucks every month?” You abandon your homework in front of you, the one you had so dutifully been working on before your computer was flooded with about a thousand Hot Moms in YOUR Area! notifications before abruptly shutting down. “Buddy, that's lunch at Starbucks.”
Jungkook clicks around a few more times, round glasses sliding down his nose which he will occasionally scrunch up to save from falling. “First of all, lunch at Starbucks sounds sad,” he retorts, and you kick his shin from beneath the table. He doesn’t even flinch, the damn muscle bunny, instead leveling you with an unimpressed glare. “Second of all, I told you I’d give you my passwords but you said—“
“No!” You exclaim.
Call it what you want, but that rose-tinted image of Jungkook being a saint in this world, too sweet and naive for his own good, never faded. Your brain saw it that night of your first date and ran with it, never mind the fact he was quite the devious scoundrel, gentlemanly perception be damned the way he’d tug at your skirts and your hair in public like you were on the playground, always teasing, always playing with you, so discreetly no one would ever see it coming from him, of all people. Your brain saw all that too, the little childish streak he’d get sometimes, but your heart stomped it out, wrapped up in the image of Jungkook being your golden boy, and you couldn’t possibly take advantage of such an angel’s kindness to mooch off his streaming services.
From across the table, Jungkook gives you a pointed look, as if he knows you’re trapped in that brain of yours again. Unlike you, Jungkook was easily able to pick apart your true personality, and the way the devil on your shoulder spoke more often than not. He knew you were prone to outrageous schemes and evil villain monologues, and he still kept you around. Let you linger around his home in his big shirts and eat his healthy breakfasts with him. Jungkook liked you, as silly and mean as you were, and he was very obvious about it.
“The password—“
“Is none of my business,” you halt him with a tone of finality in your voice, gesturing for him to slide the beat up laptop back over. Jungkook sighs, runs a hand over his face like you’ve worn him out, but relents.
Taking it with a triumphant grin, you settle back into your seat, nudge his foot with yours beneath the table. Jungkook nudges you back, the adorable fuzzy socks he was wearing making you giggle, a sound that finally brings a smile to his face. “Y’know…” he says, “if you’re gonna be the Disney villain you claim to be, you might as well just take all my passwords.”
Rolling your eyes, you focus your attention back on copying some notes for class, falling back into the rhythm of glancing at the screen and back at your notebook. “You’re cute,” you mindlessly hum, taking great pleasure in the rosy hue that rises to his cheeks, one he tries to hide by coughing into his elbow. You set your pencil down, watch him squirm under your gaze like he always does, blushy and shy like he hadn’t had you twisted like a pretzel beneath him an hour ago. “Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, reaching over to place your hand over his, where it’s idly tapping over some textbook he’s got out. Immediately, he turns it over, squeezes your palm in his. “I don’t mind getting thirty two viruses an hour.”
The reluctant worry in his gaze remains, sweet puppy eyes flickering over you as if trying to catch a hint of a lie. He was so adorable, you could kiss him silly. Finally, Jungkook gives in, though he does so with a lot of effort; letting you fool around on pirating websites truly was the bane of his existence. “Just bring it to me if it breaks down again, okay?” He settles, and you nod.
To your surprise, he brings your hand up and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles, holds your gaze like he absolutely adores you.
He was so handsome, so caring, and so blatantly not yours.
“Not heading to your boyfriend's house today?” Doyeon asks the second she steps into your shared dorm, fighting with the boots on her feet. In the last two months of knowing Jungkook (everybody say thank you, Kim Namjoon), it’s become rare to see you home for more than two nights in a row. Jungkook was irresistible in more ways than you could count. If you weren’t falling into bed with him, you were smothering his cute face on the couch, or hovering behind him in the kitchen.
“Not my boyfriend,” you deny, huffy, and she knows how you feel about the subject, which is why she only prods more.
“Wow,” Doyeon drawls, glancing over your shoulder where you’ve got Jersey Shore playing on one half of the screen, an essay document on the other. “The man you see every other night, who looks and fucks like a god, who buys you a shit ton of presents, and treats you like you’re his world… is not your boyfriend?”
On screen, the toxic couple of the century is engaged in another screaming match, the reality tv show quickly spiraling as dramatic music takes over the speakers.
You scratch the back of your head. “Yeah. Well.”
Doyeon almost combusts at your response, flinging herself onto her twin bed in disgust. “He is a fool, a court jester if you will,” she seethes. “You're the hottest babe in a fifteen mile radius chasing after him and he still hasn’t asked you?”
Deciding you can’t comfortably watch the toxicity on screen with Doyeon talking so loudly, you slam down on the spacebar to pause the show. The fickity website, set out to ruin you since you first discovered it a few weeks ago, crashes. It takes your half-assed essay with it as the whole computer suddenly blacks out. You sigh.
“And on top of that,” she’s still going, “you’re hot and evil. Like bro. Come on.”
“Yes, I’m sure every man dreams of getting with an evil seductress,” you sarcastically reply, reaching for your phone to text Jungkook for help, when you suddenly remember why exactly you’re not with him right now. He’d gone to Busan to visit his family this weekend, a quick trip, he’d told you with his tongue down your throat. You shiver at the memory.
You still really want to watch Jersey Shore, though. Almost desperately. It’d been a long time since you watched it, and you honestly forgot the pivotal role that and a bunch of other reality shows had played in shaping you into the conniving woman you were today.
Doyeon seems about done with her tirade against Jeon Jungkook, dramatically storming into the en-suite bathroom you share with your neighbors.
Tapping your phone against your lip, you carefully consider your options. You could just boot your laptop back up, pray for the best and move on. But the 240p episodes were doing a number on your eyes, and for a moment you considered handing over those six bucks to pay for a Hulu membership.
It’s short-lived, and eventually you settle on calling Jungkook.
He answers on the fourth ring, and wherever he is is insanely loud. There’s voices shouting, lots of bustling, until eventually a door closes and Jungkook’s silky voice oozes through the speaker. “Baby? What’s up?”
“Hi,” you respond, feel something disgustingly sweet settle in your chest. “Is this a bad time?” You ask tentatively.
Jungkook laughs, low and raspy. “No,” he tells you, and you hear the smile in his voice. “Never a bad time for you.”
You could lunge through the screen right now, rain kisses down on his face until he’s giggling, telling you it’s too much. The feeling in your chest tightens, and you almost blurt out something embarrassingly cheesy, but a voice in the background calls for him, and Jungkook’s voice responds, “In a sec, mom. I’m talking to a friend right now.”
The glass roof shatters.
Even though you’d just told Doyeon you two weren’t a thing, despite all the coupley things you did, something about Jungkook telling his mom you’re just a friend isn't right. You frown, listen as his mother, a voice just as delicate as his, asks him to grab something from inside. With each second that ticks by, the discomfort you feel grows tenfold, until you’re barely holding yourself together.
Eventually, Jungkook returns. “So what’s up?” He asks again, and you remember what you initially called for. Putting on your big girl pants, you brush your uncalled for insecurities to the side, making sure he can’t detect anything in your tone.
“Your Hulu password. Can I have it?” You say, realize how robotical your voice sounds and belatedly throw in a, “please.”
Jungkook laughs, loud and boyish. The sound almost makes you melt, makes you fall for him even more. The niggling doubt in the back of your head still rings, but it’s temporarily washed away by the man on the phone. “Finally giving in?” He chuckles, doesn’t give you time to respond. “Sure, babe. I’ll text you the login stuff.” You hum, twirl your pencil idly as Jungkook announces he has to go, something about his family waiting on him. You bid him adieu, send him a halfhearted kiss over the phone, and only hope he feels half as content as you do when he does the same for you.
You don’t want to be dramatic about it. In your heart of hearts, you know Jungkook is just more reserved when it comes to dating. He wants to be one hundred percent sure your heart is in the same game as his, tied to the same rules, and putting in the same effort. But there’s a seed of insecurity that plants itself in the back of your head, tells you the reason Jungkook hasn’t asked you out is simply because you’re not good enough.
Jungkook was as rich as they come—not in money, but in personality. (Well, with the way he was advancing through his career, you get the sense he’ll be rich rich in the next few years too.) He had a huge heart, so caring and supportive of those around him, and an even bigger moral compass—hence the ridiculous amounts of streaming services he paid for—and you strongly believed no one was worthy of standing beside someone as wonderful as him.
Sadly, that meant you too.
Jungkook was your dream lover, and with every passing day, you were beginning to think you weren’t his. It had been two months since your first date, and realistically speaking, you know it’s not weird for people to casually date for such a time. It hadn’t been that long, truthfully, but the way you and Jungkook had clicked made it seem so.
He treated you like a queen, pleased your heart and body like no other. None of what Doyeon said earlier was a fib—he picked you up from school in that classy Benz, let you stay the night and sleep in his clothes, ate you out in the morning like you were his breakfast. You acted like you were in a relationship, but what exactly were the two of you?
Were Jungkook’s feelings even at the same level as yours?
Some days, you couldn’t fathom the idea of being so far away from him, texting him incessantly to feel a semblance of his presence. There was always a metaphorical elephant sitting on your chest, the weight of your unlabeled relationship, your insecurities, waiting for him to finally cut you off, decide you’re not what he wants. You wonder sometimes if he sees you out of convenience, but you always remind yourself Jungkook was too emotional and soft to drag someone around like that. (Or was he?)
Realizing how deep you’ve fallen into your spiraling pit of uncertainty, you shake yourself of those thoughts, mindlessly typing in the Hulu login credentials Jungkook texts you.
You’re in the student center when Jungkook comes home, laptop and books spread out over a circle table to stop anyone else from coming up to you. You’ve got your headphones in, the background sounds of late 2000’s club music from a Jersey Shore episode drifting through your ears.
A hand suddenly grabs onto your shoulder, and you send nearly half the table’s contents onto the floor when you screech, leg blindly kicking the table. “Woah, woah,” Jungkook calms, pulling out an earbud for you, and the sight of his face makes you relax again, before you’re striking his chest.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” you warn, shooting daggers at him as he pulls a chair close to you, plopping down beside you. Jungkook laughs, kisses your temple.
“You doing okay, beautiful?” He inquires, and your heartbeat, which had only just begun to settle from your fright, lurches at the hooded gaze he sends you.
You nod, unconsciously lean closer to him. Jungkook smiles, cheeks pulled tight when you plant a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Glad to hear it,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you close.
You never thought you’d be one of those people. Y’know, the couple shoving PDA down everyone’s throats in a very crowded place. But you can’t help it with Jungkook, gaze honed in on the mole beneath his lip as he recounts his trip to his family’s place. His hair is fluffy again, parted a little to the side to show his forehead. He’s got that big dark hoodie on, the one you love. Your love-addled brain thinks, I could give you a family, but you quickly shut that thought down.
There was no need to think as much for a man who wasn’t even your boyfriend.
Before you can spiral, there’s a set of fingers brushing over your neck, almost casually. You return your attention to Jungkook, watch him leisurely gaze over the bustling students around you. “Missed you,” he says quietly, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear. Hell, if your eyes hadn’t been trained on his face, you don’t think you would’ve.
Finally, he glances back at you. He says nothing, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. He leans forward, presses a smooch to your lips, only to smile at you afterward. “Come over?”
The difference between you and Jungkook is that you were very obviously, outwardly evil. You were not embarrassed to admit you were scheming, or that you had ulterior motives behind doing something. You used what you had to your advantage, mastered all types of expressions to get what you wanted.
Jungkook, on the other hand, was a subtle schemer. In fact, he was so goddamn subtle, you doubt he even knew he was a schemer.
But he definitely was one, and your experiences with him were enough to convince you so. There were times he’d stare at you longingly, like a puppy, until you’d do something for him. Times he’d use his demure face to lure you into going to the hardware store for him, into watching some boring documentary with him. Times, like now, where his voice was a little too smooth and low to be considered his normal pitch, clouded gaze sweeping over your features until you understood what he meant by come over.
Numbly, you nod, watch the quirk of his lips as he kisses you once more before gathering your things for you.
The car ride passes by in a flash, Jungkook’s hand on your knee, your head in the clouds. You imagine how easy it would be to just lean over right here, tug him out of his sweats and get that super suck 5000 on him. But Jungkook’s shy, the devil on your shoulder croons, he’d like it better in the backseat, where no one can see.
Your bag hasn’t even touched the floor yet when he pushes you against the door of his house, shoes and coats half off as he envelopes your lips with his.
His hands are warm, cupping your neck to guide you through the kiss, blindly pulling you down the hall. You feel him falter by the stairs, torn between just throwing you on the couch and ravishing you there or making the trip upstairs to the comfort of his bed. You reach up, run your fingers through his hair. “Wherever you want, baby,” you reassure him, and become consumed with glee when his hands grab into the backs of your thighs, hitch you into his arms as he rushes the two of you up the stairs.
The bed is as fluffy as you remember it, and you bounce up towards the pillows after he drops you on the end. He tugs his shirt over his head, chocolate strands coming out a mess afterwards, before crawling up your body. Jungkook’s hands are incessant, grabbing onto every inch of you he possibly can. He kisses up your tummy, pushing your shirt up as he goes, hikes it over the swell of your breasts to gently fondle them in his palms.
When he’s just about suffocated himself between them, he pops back out, catches your gaze with a twinkle in his. “Hi,” you squeak, and Jungkook grins, leaning up to kiss you.
“Hi, pretty girl,” he returns, let’s your tongue slide into his mouth, sucks on the appendage teasingly. You whimper, and Jungkook releases. “You miss me?” He asks, and if you hadn’t been well-versed in the art of Jungkook’s sexy talk, you wouldn’t have noticed the tingle of nervousness that curls around the question.
You placate him, “always.”
It’s all Jungkook needs as he wiggles you out of your clothes, shucks them off somewhere to the side. His hands trail over your body, massage your breasts and pinch the nipples. You sigh, melt into the sheets as he runs his palms over you. He rolls you over, pulls your hips up and carefully pushes your face into the mattress, pushing your hair to the side to peck your neck when he leans over.
“So soft for me, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands slithering around your waist, down your abdomen until the tip of his pointer finger is idly swirling over your clit.
You whine, clutch the comforter beneath you at the touch. “Oh, fuck,” you groan, push your hips back against him. He’s still got his sweats on, and you want desperately to turn around and rip them off of him, feel the press of his cock against your ass.
As if sensing your urgency, Jungkook calms you with kisses trailing over your spine, hot breath fanning over your neck. His fingers slow, just barely grazing over your clit. “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?” He asks, and you struggle to choke out a response when he presses his finger down against you.
“No,” you eventually gasp, jolt when his hand reaches down, glides through the swollen folds of your cunt.
As if content with your response, Jungkook lets his fingers caress you for a few beats, laps against the side of your neck as you whimper, beg him to continue. When he does, it’s with no ounce of his usual gentle attitude, two fingers shoving forcefully past the tight clench of your pussy lips, deep into your cunt. You shudder, gasping into the sheets.
“Good girl,” Jungkook praises, flutters a kiss right below your ear. Your neurons are working overtime, unsure of what to do as he explores your cunt, fingers dragging against your walls. You want to close your eyes, bask in his touches, but every brush of his fingers has them rolling back, fluttering open. “This pussy is mine, isn’t it?”
His fingers curl, briefly brushing over your soft spot. But it’s enough to make you cry out, pant against the sheets. “Yours,” you choke, push back against him like he’ll do it again.
A thumb circles your clit, and the tight feeling in your belly snaps, has you crying out his name as your first orgasm in a few days washes over you. “Jungkook,” you whimper, nearly sob when his hands pull away, letting you flop down onto the mattress in a boneless heap. Your thighs feel sticky, and you watch blearily as Jungkook hovers behind you.
“So quickly?” He chuckles, turning you back over. He spreads your legs, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room, and you shiver. A lone finger drags over your cunt, collecting the glossy substance on the tip, before Jungkook is sucking it into his mouth.
He had an affinity for this kind of stuff, you’ve learned. Like he genuinely thought your cum was the most delicious thing in the entire world. That being said, you’re not surprised when he ducks down, pushes your legs to your chest as he begins devouring your pussy.
“Slow down,” you gasp, hand curling in his hair as he spares you not, sensitivity be damned. He was gonna lick you clean. He groans, tongue shoved into your cunt, cute nose brushing against your clit. “Kook,” you warn, though it’s more of a shuddered cry. “I-I’ll come again.”
He pulls off with a wet smack, licks over his tongue as he narrows you with a daring glare. Gone was your sweet Jungkook, replaced with this cum-eating heathen who only purrs, “in my mouth” at your warning.
You scream when the second orgasm hits you, pushing his face against your cunt as his tongue continues, lapping at your folds and your hole as a gush of wetness spurts out of you. For a second, your vision pales, soundless cries caught in your throat as you come all over his face. When you touch down on earth again, your body feels featherlight.
Jungkook is watching you from between your thighs, his face, hair, and chest glistening.  “Oh fuck,” he gasps, shit-eating grin slowly consuming his features. “Did you just.”
You groan, cover your face with your palms as Jungkook settles over you, beaming excitedly at your newest ability. “No,” you whine, pushing him away from where he’s basically glued to your cheek. “That’s so weird.”
He laughs, cute and airy. “Fuck, sweetheart, you squirted all over me,” he sighs, cuddles against you, and you wrap your arms around him only to hide your face in his shoulder, also glistening with your pleasure. He shifts closer, and the hard press of his cock rubs along the inside of your thigh.
“Can we take a break?” You murmur quietly, hesitantly. “I can’t feel my legs.” Jungkook nods, presses a kiss to your temple as he gets off the bed, tossing his t-shirt over to you. He stumbles towards the en-suite, comes back with a dry face and chest; his hair is still damp. He tugs the sheets out from under you, cuddles close. He’s got the two of you wrapped up in no time, your head cradled against his shoulder as he reaches out blindly for the tablet he keeps on the side of his bed, the Hulu app already open.
“Any requests?” He hums, scrolling through the multitude of movies and shows. You wiggle closer, stop his finger when he returns to the home page, and Jersey Shore is the first thing to appear. “You’re kidding.”
“It’s a good show!” You defend, click on it before he can argue. You press closer, throw a leg over his waist where you can feel his still rock hard member hiding beneath his sweats. Poor guy, you think, he must be suffering. But you have to rest for a moment if you wanna ride the shit out of him and knock him breathless like you’d planned.
Jungkook doesn’t comment on the erection he’s sporting, instead choosing to criticize everything wrong with Jersey Shore. You’re not surprised. He’s an avid film nerd, obsessed with ‘real’ storylines, not whatever reality tv shows were.
You’ve seen this episode about a hundred times, so you don’t really mind that he completely ruins it for you with his nitpicking. It’s cute, listening to him ramble about television integrity while you listen to the subtle thudding of his heart beneath your ear.
He’s on his fifth slandering of DJ Pauly D when you decide you’ve had enough, muscles in your legs feeling rejuvenated as you wiggle into his lap, toss the tablet off to the side as you straddle him. “That show makes you hard?” You tease, let your sensitive folds settle over the bulge in his pants.
Jungkook combusts, cheeks flushing at your jab. “No,” he huffs, “my pretty girlfriend’s boobs pressed up against me does.”
You short circuit.
“Huh?” You blurt dumbly. Jungkook rolls his eyes, too concerned with guiding your hips over his crotch to realize you’re having a complete meltdown in your head. An airy moan leaves his mouth, head lolling back against the pillows, when he moves you just right, grinds against you perfectly. But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. “Kook,” you say, cup his face in your palms to force him to look you in the eye.
Jungkook huffs, pointedly looking down at where you sit on him, “babe, gonna need you to—“
“What did you say?” You interrogate, press your foreheads together until he has no choice but to look at you.
Annoyed with your act, he groans. “Babe, your hips,” he urges, almost desperately.
“No,” you retort, “not until you say it again.”
“Say what again?” He cries, lips twitching in irritation, and you’re about two seconds from behind shoved into the mattress, pounded into from behind like he’d done the last time you teased him a little too much.
“That I’m your girlfriend!” You exclaim, heart hammering in your ears.
Jungkook seems to finally halt at that. “Oh,” he responds, leaning back to scan over your expression. “You are?” He says, unsure of what point you’re trying to make.
Your brain fizzes at the news. “Since when?” You cry, suddenly feeling dumb for all the time you spent moping over this perfect boy you thought didn’t want you. “You never asked!”
Jungkook levels you with an unimpressed stare, reaches over for the iPad you tossed to the side, some dramatic fight scene on a boardwalk taking place on screen. You wanna scream. Why is he so concerned with Jersey Shore now of all times?
Before you can rain down your displeasure on him, he’s turning it around and showing you a bookmarked email.
It’s from you, apparently, sent a few weeks back at exactly two in the morning. You glance at the date received. It’s from Doyeon’s half birthday, when the two of you had drunk yourselves silly on wine. The title is some mix of dashes and exclamation points, but that’s irrelevant when the contents of the email come to view, some stupid slur of beeee myyy boyfrienderdd????? ;))((;;; that has your jaw dropping in mortification.
You glance back at Jungkook, who seems just as confused as you. “What the hell?” You shriek, snatch the tablet from his hand to see that not only was it a single email, but a thread of emails all asking the same question—there’s even a three stanza sonnet detailing your love for the mole on the side of his neck. You could die. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?! I was so drunk— how could you even take me seriously?”
Jungkook shrugs, almost amused now as he watches you scroll through the twenty emails you sent him. “The next day you told me you really liked me over lunch, so I didn’t mind. Besides,  drunk words are sober thoughts, y’know.”
You stare in disbelief. “You told your mom I was your friend,” you whisper.
The blood rises to his cheeks quickly. “Babe,” he sputters. “I’m not exactly introducing her to every girl I date after three weeks.”
It makes sense, and you hate how much it does so. Pursing your lips, you look away, focus on the bedside table and hope he doesn’t see the tears that threaten to spew out of your eyes. He does, he always does. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He hums, sits up to pull you into his arms. One hand brushes over the back of your head, gently. Softly. “Did that upset you?”
You shake your head no, can’t help the ugly Kim Kardashian sob that rips itself from your throat. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you sniffle, covering your face with the iPad when he tries to duck closer and get a look at you. “Because it’s been two months.”
Jungkook shushes you, hugs you close to his chest as you cry like a baby over some apparently unjustifiable doubts. “That big brain of yours,” he sighs, kisses the frown of your head. “Too busy being evil to be logical.” You whine in protest, and Jungkook chuckles, carefully laying back with you clinging to his chest.
He lets you cry it out, palms rubbing over your back, listens to the annoying Jersey Shore opening song playing when the episode ends. When you’re done, you sit up, try to pretend your eyes aren’t swollen and puffy. Jungkook smiles. “All good?”
You might love him.
“I’m gonna ride you,” you announce, and he chokes in surprise, and before he can try to convince you it’s okay, you’re wrestling his sweats and boxers off, taking his half hard cock into your hand. Jungkook flounders, tries to calm you down, but you’re on a mission, working your hand over him until he’s fattening in your hold, melting into the pillows.
“Baby,” he grunts, rolling his hips into your palm. You lean over, pucker your lips and let a thick drop of saliva fall onto the tip of his cock. It trickles over your fingers, makes it easier to run your hands over him. Jungkook groans, reaches down to cup his hand over yours, urging you to squeeze tighter.
When he’s finally as hard as you want him, tip engorged and angry, you sit up, place your palms on his chest as you scoot over him. Jungkook watches you with dark eyes, skin flushed as you line him up. His hands reach for your hips to steady you, tiny gasps falling from his lips at the first prod against your folds. You’re wet from watching him squirm beneath you, from feeling the heavy weight of his cock in your hand, and you hope he feels how much he excites you.
“That’s it,” he croons as you slowly sink down on him, whimpers catching in your throat from the stretch. “That’s my girl.”
Jungkook is purposeful with his words, smiles at you when the muscles in your thighs jolt at the term. When you’re seated to the hilt, folds brushing against his pelvis, Jungkook ruts experimentally. “Fuck,” he chokes breathlessly.
You let your body adjust, spine tingling with every subtle shift from the man beneath you, still so sensitive from your two orgasms from before. Jungkook waits, even though you know all he wants to do right now is fuck up into you like a madman.
When you’re relaxed enough, you begin to move, pushing yourself on your knees slowly, hissing at the drag of his cock against your folds. “F-Fuck,” you whimper, fingernails scratching against where you’ve got them on his chest still. Jungkook grips your hips tightly, and you unconsciously reach for his forearms to steady yourself instead.
“There you go,” he purrs as you slowly pick up the pace, cock sliding inside of you rougher, faster. You know it’s mostly him, muscles in his arms flexing as he moves you up and down, but you don’t care—it feels so good, the upward curve of his cock brushing against your soft spot with each drop of your hips.
He holds you down on one thrust, grinds you over his cock until your clit is rubbing against him roughly, and you cry out his name. You want to kiss him, so very badly, but your position makes it hard. Besides, the sweat beginning to pool in the deep of his collarbones hinted at his oncoming orgasm.
Still, you can’t help the way your eyes instinctively go to trace over his mouth, pouty lips pushed out even more in exertion, teeth grinding together every time your pussy swallows him anew. “Kook,” you mewl, hips bucking forward.
He hums, plants his feet firmly on the mattress as he begins fucking into you. “What is it?” He grunts, pistons into your dripping cunt as you whimper, pleasure crawling up and down your spine. “My pretty girl needs something?”
You wail, nod your head as he continues fucking, ramming his cock into your quivering hole, precum dripping over him. “Yours,” you gasp, mind stuck on what he’d said earlier. “‘M all yours,” you sob, body finally giving out, and you barely catch yourself from falling into him with a palm pressed flatly against his chest.
Jungkook smirks, bucks into you brutally, like he wants you to fall into a boneless heap on top of him. “Yeah, you are,” he groans, as you finally give in, lips brushing against his ear when you flop down on him. “My pretty girl,” he huffs, and you nod, muscles pulled taut as your orgasm begins looming over you. “So cute and mean,” he rambles, lips pressed to your temple. His hips are beginning to lose their rhythm, thrusts growing stilted as he chases his high. “But you know what?” He murmurs, and you whimper. “I like her just like that.”
If his words don’t knock the air out of your lungs, your orgasm surely does. It makes you shudder, the way his hands run over your body, cock ruts into your heat, and you almost cry when the pleasure gets a hold of you. Your muscles tighten, and then loosen, melting into his chest. You’re trembling in his arms, like a leaf holding onto a branch for dear life, choked gasps of his name muffled against his neck.
Jungkook pistons into you, rounds the final corner in his race to orgasm, and eventually spurts his hot cum into you, coats your walls as another reminder that you’re his. He’s a silent orgasmer, sounds catching in his throat as his body twitches beneath you, silent even afterwards as he regains his senses.
A few moments later, you’re shifting out of his hold, pushing yourself onto your elbows to glance down at him. Jungkook’s eyes are shut, but, as if sensing you’re looking at him, he flutters them open, chocolate irises softening at the sight of you.
“Holy shit,” he groans, rolls you off of him carefully. His hand brushes over your thigh, like he’s contemplating licking you clean again, but you stop him with a pointed raise of your brows. “Fine. Pass me the tablet.”
You do, and it’s almost unnerving how easily the two of you slip back into comfort, Jungkook changing into some shorts and handing you your discarded panties, before climbing into bed to watch Jersey Shore. You’ve missed about an entire hour-long episode, so you end up rewinding until the point you last saw.
“You and your Netflix and chilling,” Jungkook snorts, head nestled against your breasts. You roll your eyes.
“This is Hulu,” you point out.
“Oh yeah,” he hums, snuggles closer. His body feels so nice and warm over yours, hands wrapped around you like a lifeline. You end up positioning the tablet off by your hip, supported by a pillow so the two of you can watch properly.
You’re still processing your new title, your new boyfriend, when he perks his head up suddenly, solemn gaze catching yours.
“Hulu and Woohoo,” he says, ever so seriously, and you understand why Doyeon thinks he’s a fool.
[ part three ; imax & climax ]
3K notes · View notes
candescentclitoria · 3 years
Text
What About You? What About Me?
Pairing: Zelda Spellman x Reader, Other Character x Reader.
Warnings: Does unrequited love count? Cause that shit hurts.
Co-Writer/Editor: @empatheticroses​
A/N: This took a long while mainly because my friend and I had classes up our asses.
Tumblr media
You had been pining after her for years. Two, to be exact, but it felt like an eternity with how your attempts to let her know had been disregarded. Specifically, when you would do little things to help her work as the Unholy Choir’s director—bringing her cups of crisp cold water, sometimes cups of hot tea when she had a sore throat. When you would visit the Spellman residence, just to see more of her and to say ‘hi’ to the family, you would help her tidy up, make her drinks, tiny snacks; even helping to clean up after dinner. Your help didn’t go unnoticed by the other residence members, who thanked you with either a hug, specifically a Hilda hug, those were the best or a kind tone of voice. 
Whenever Zelda did notice, she would nod and gently pat you on the head. Saying a quiet ‘thank you.’ Perhaps you were petty for wanting more gratitude from the redhead.
Months go by, Zelda was with Marie now, and for a while, you thought you could handle it; and you did for the most part. You were holding it well, all the way up till Hilda and Cee’s wedding reception. After Sabrina had saved the coven from “The Uninvited,” the evening’s festivities continued. Sipping on wine, you innocently looked over, you saw Zelda and Marie kiss, after that, it was over, you had to leave. Tears in your eyes and walking, you accidentally bumped into Hilda. “Darling, what’s wrong?” The blonde asked, her hand gently grasping your forearm. You shook your head, “No, I am fine; I don’t want to ruin your night. I just have to go.” You said, not without looking away at Zelda one last time. Hilda looked at you after you turned your head to her; an understanding look from the blonde was all you needed from her before you left.
Everyone had noticed how you craved the attention and acceptance from the redhead, even her sister. When it came to it, Hilda was your shoulder to lean on when Zelda was seemingly prospering, and you were shriveling, dejection, and hurt filling your soul. When Zelda had married Faustus, you tried your best to support her. Being her friend, you felt you needed it; however, Hilda told you that feeling the way you were, betrayed and hurt, was perfectly fine. 
When Zelda had come back from her Honeymoon under the effects of the Caligari Spell, you tried your best to reach her, yet she pushed you away, saying she had always been that way. When she had the spell broken, you were right by her side, placing a hot cup of tea in front of her. You had pushed yourself to dig your happiness’ grave just to please her, your mental and emotional health pushed to the side to prioritize her’s. To say that you were breaking was an understatement. You were already far gone, broken,  yet you chose to stay, pampering Zelda as she walked off with another. Hilda held you as you sobbed that night, wailing at the heartbreak that consumed you once more. 
Your legs push you to the main foyer of Dorian’s, a quiet ‘lanuae magicae’ leaving your lips as you walk. Your surroundings turn from those of the nightclub to your bedroom; quickly, you move to gather your things, using your magic to finish quicker. Your suitcase, full of your clothes, was ready to be put in your car. Any type of electronic you own is packed separately and carefully. Your bed is stripped of its dark grey sheets and comforter, packed in another suitcase. You were doing it. You were leaving. Finally, after years of pining after Zelda, pampering her every need and want, and your suffering, you were putting yourself first. You decided then and there; you would never let yourself get hurt just to please someone ever again, mainly when they chose not to acknowledge you and your attempts to please them.
Changing your clothes, you place your dress in the suitcase with your clothes, zipping it up and teleporting it to the trunk of your car, your other bags following as well. By now, your trunk and backseat were bound to be full, perhaps even your passenger seat. Walking downstairs, you grab your spare money jar. It was meant for paying bills, but you wouldn’t need to pay them for a while, not until you settled down somewhere else. 
Ten thousand dollars in cash, you had ten thousand dollars. That itself was more than enough combined with your current amount in the bank.
With a small sigh, you turn off all the lights with a wave of your hand, and staring back into the darkness of your living room, you shut the door and leave. Your first stop was the Spellman residence. No one would be home, so it was perfect for you to get in, get out, and leave a note for Hilda. An apology. You apologized for so many things in the letter you had no clue what it was about anymore, just an apology, you supposed.
 Admitting it hadn’t been hard, but you would miss your chaotic adoptive niece, always causing something to happen in Greendale. Ambrose, still having to help her fix the mistakes. Your little, yet highly elder, nephew. His small spouts of wisdom from all his years of living.  Hilda and her kind heart, her ability to calm you down just by existing. And Zelda,  there was so much to miss about her, the snooty remarks, the ways she’d reel you in hook, line, and sinker. She was leaving you deft and dim, leaving you to crack and pour. 
The letter was addressed to Hilda, and you had hoped that she wouldn’t tell Zelda with the begging inside the note. You hoped she would tell Ambrose and Sabrina and tell them not to let Zelda know. You were moving on. That was that. 
What you hadn’t expected when you left and arrived in Scarsdale, a small quaint town outside of Greendale, was to meet a woman. A beautiful, kind, and acknowledging woman. When you had bumped into each other, her coffee spilling all over her, you repeatedly apologized, saying you’d buy her another coffee and pay for her dirty clothes to be cleaned. She nodded and let you guide her to the coffee shop, buying her a replacement drink and a pastry. And then, she asked you on a date. Her name was Edalyn, Eda for short. She was in her thirties, much younger than Zelda, and very foxy. She had bright ginger hair, wild like a lion's mane, yet well kept. Her eyes were very light brown, and in the sun, they were golden. 
Eventually, one date turned into two and two into three. Soon enough, five months of seeing each other passed, and you decide to move in together. Eda herself turned out to be a witch. 
Yes, it did remind you of Zelda, but you had Eda now. You didn’t need Zelda, and you didn’t crave her affections anymore. You desired Eda’s, and she gave it freely. Whenever you would bring her little snacks or drinks, she would kiss your cheek, take your hand and say ‘Thank you.’
When you would bring her lunch for work- dinner if she stayed later than usual- she would pull you into her lap and nuzzle into your neck, mumbling tiny ‘Thank you’s. Fixing her a bath before bed rewarded you with kisses all over your face, tiny ‘I love you’s leaving her throat. Even if you didn’t do anything for her, she would kiss you, whether it was on your cheek, neck, lips.
 This is the affection you always deserved. You reminded yourself.
 Eda fixed you, and she said that you set her as well. 
This is the affection you deserve.
 At night you would cuddle into her arms and fall asleep to the sound of her heartbeat, her chin resting on the top of your head. 
You deserve to heal.
Some days, Hilda would apparate to you, checking in on you. She would kiss your cheek and hug you, telling you that when she finished apparating, she would teleport a basket of pastries to you. She would ask you how you were doing if you had met anyone. You told her you had. You told her how happy Eda made you, how well she treated you. Hilda would smile and place her hands on top of yours, “You deserve every bit of affection she gives to you! So long as you return it!” And you did, you told her. Every time Eda would be affectionate, you would be affectionate back. A smile would cross her face, and she would tear up, “May I say something?” You’d nod. “Zelda is… she’s going nuts dear. She hasn’t heard from you, and she thinks you're just ignoring her. Just be careful alright? You know Zelda, she always does something bizarre when she needs an answer.” You had nodded and Hilda frowned slightly, “I have to go now. Sabrina and Ambrose miss you dearly; we all do. And don’t worry, we haven’t told Zelda what happened.” A small ‘thank you’ left your lips, and you smiled at Hilda. “Bring Sabrina next time, okay? Maybe Ambrose if possible.” She would nod, and then, she would be gone.
The next time she visited you, Sabrina was with her, and Eda was home. Hilda approved of Eda quickly and telling you she, as Sabrina would be right back, they disappeared and reappeared, this time there. Hilda’s warm arms welcomed you, and you teared up as you laid your head against her shoulder. Sabrina moved to wrap her arms around you, and she nuzzled into your shoulder. 
Tears freely flowed down her face, her brown eyes almost shining. “I missed you, Auntie (Y/N).” A shaky, “I missed you too, kid,” escaped your lips, and you kissed her forehead. You turned your head to look at Eda. “Eda, this is Sabrina and Hilda, Hilda, Sabrina, meet Eda.” Hilda had moved to hug her immediately, thanking her for taking care of you. Sabrina shook her head gently, little chuckles escaping her mouth.  After Hilda had finished her ‘thank you’s, she had set out to your kitchen, with yours and Eda’s permission, to cook some dinner.
Sabrina gently put her hand out, “It’s nice to meet you. Auntie (Y/N) talks about you to Aunt Hilda all the time!” Eda chuckled, moving her hand to grips Sabrina’s, “And have I made a good impression?” 
“The best.” Sabrina glanced at you. Your hands were busy making the broth for the soup. “Anyone who makes my Aunts happy has my full approval.” A smile graced Eda’s face, and she looked at you. “I make her that happy?” Sabrina Nodded. “Yeah, My other Aunt, Zelda- the one (Y/N) is in hiding from- held (Y/N)’s affection for a long time. One day she had enough and left, finally choosing her happiness and mental health over someone’s Auntie’s. My Aunt Zelda was foolish not to realize what was in front of her all this time, but it’s too late. (Y/N)’s moved on, she’s happy now, and I can’t thank you enough for helping her fix herself, Ms. Eda.” 
“Thanks, Sabrina; I’m glad I make her that happy.” Sabrina nodded and walked off to the kitchen, leaving Eda to her thoughts. She never knew how happy she made you and the fact that she knew now? She wanted to give you the best life possible, so she promised herself she would.
Eda’s eyes glanced to look at you as you worked beside Hilda. A smile was plastered on your face, and Eda couldn’t help but smile as well. She walked over behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and kissing your cheek. She was whipped for you, no doubt. 
Another thing you hadn’t expected, after being told that Zelda had no clue you had indeed left, was for her to turn up on your doorstep. She looked paler than usual, her hair was the slightest bit frazzled, and her makeup was much more minimal than usual.
“Thank Hecate. I’ve finally found you.” Blinking rapidly, you open your mouth to speak, “How the hell? How did you find me? Who told you where I was?” Shaking her head, she steps past you into the living room. “No one, but that fact that others knew and I didn’t hurt. Let me guess, and you told Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose to hide it from me that you left? Am I right?” A small nod is all you can muster up, eyes glancing up into hers. “Well then, it’s time for you to come home. I’ve realized I made many mistakes when it came to you. You’ve been by my side through everything, and I want you as mine.” 
You raise your brows in shock. Is she serious?
 “You’re- You’re joking, right?” You say quietly, fists clenched at your side. “No, I’m not. I realized that I’ve been horrible to you. I didn’t even consider your feelings or your mental health; I’m sorry (Y/N).”
A raspy voice calls out to you, “(Y/N), what’s going on, babe?” 
Eda!
She rounds the corner and moves to you but stops as she lands her eyes on the redhead. “Who is this?” Closing your eyes tightly, you gently take Eda’s hand. “This is Zelda, Eda. Zelda, this is Eda, my girlfriend.” Zelda’s eyes widen, her hands raise slightly, but she puts them back at her sides. “So you’ve… you’ve taken a lover.” You nod, hand tightening on Eda’s. “Yes, I have.” 
A growl escapes Eda’s lips, and she glares at Zelda, “What the hell are you doing here? After everything you’ve done to her, you have some nerve.” Zelda throws her hands up, stepping back slightly, “Trust me, I have no harmful intentions; I just wish to talk to (Y/N).” You place your hand on Eda's shoulder, shaking your head when she looks at you. Now wasn’t the time for Eda to lash out. Truthfully, Eda always had a temper, letting her anger sometimes get the best of her. She was never abusive in any way, instead she tended just to cry or punch a pillow. Her rage was never brought out on you. 
“What do you want, Zelda? Why’d you come looking for me?” Zelda gently grabs your hand and moves with you to sit down on the couch. “As I said earlier, I’ve realized how I’ve made you feel. Forgotten, unloved, disregarded: like you don’t matter, but you do, I promise. It took me a while to realize that I’m sorry (Y/N). Please, come back with me, give me another chance, and I promise I will make it up to you. I miss you, darling” A scoff leaves your throat, anger slowly taking over your calm mood.
“You’re joking, right? You’ve got to be. Zelda, why do you think I left? I left because you pushed me to the side and treated me like I didn’t matter. You don’t get to make me feel like shit; you don’t get to parade around my house and throw a pity party for yourself. You had every chance to miss me before, miss me when I was at the wedding, miss me when I left early, but you chose to miss me when I moved to Scarsdale and finally found someone that cherished me! Someone that showed me the love and affection I deserved when you wouldn’t do any of that! You have no right to claim that you’re upset when you didn’t notice how much I craved your attention; how much I cried over you! When you married Faustus, when you fell in love with Marie, Hilda held me while I cried because I felt like you didn’t love me. Hilda held me every time I was hurting because of you- and I chose to stay because even though I was in so much emotional pain, I cared about you more than I cared about myself!” Tears come to Zelda’s eyes; her hands clench against her chest. 
“So if anything, fuck you, Zelda Spellman, fuck you for thinking you get to march into my life and confess your love. Go back to Marie; maybe she’ll kiss your ass and make love to you.”
Small sobs fall from Zelda’s lips, her form starts to shake, and she wraps her arms around herself. Your eyes widen, and you glance at Eda. “Marie is gone (Y/N).” You look at the broken ginger before you, sighing, “I’m sorry, but this allows you to grow yourself.” You say, looking at her with compassion despite the storm of anger raging inside you. Zelda looks at you and nods timidly, “I...I will let myself out. I hope you have a good life here, thrive the way you deserve, darling.” Zelda says before walking towards the door, and then she leaves. Eda’s hands gently land on your shoulder and you move your hand on top of hers, “It’s over (Y/N), you don’t have to worry about her hurting you like that anymore.” A nod is all you can muster and you turn around, placing your head against Eda’s chest. Small sobs leave your throat, hands gently holding Eda close by her waist.  That was it; you had finally put your foot down, finalizing the burned bridges between you and Zelda- and as much as it hurt, you felt better than before.
149 notes · View notes
cherriesradio · 3 years
Text
Mha relationship headcanons (Class 1-A)
Guess I’m doing headcanons now
(In order of seats cause it’s the first photo order on Google lol)
Gn reader
Yuuga Aoyama
He will lazer anyone who even dares to make fun of them
Always in need of attention
ALWAYS
if y/n is boing homework or something at their desk he’ll just dramatically sit down in their lap
“wHy aReN’t yOu PAyinG aTtENTion tO yOUr pReTtY bOYFriEnd?????”
“My little star” ❤️
Compliment wars
Y/n will compliment him once like “hey your hairs really soft today”
Shots fired
He is a rich kid and no one can convince me other wise
So one day he just randomly buys them like thousand dollar jeans and they just sit there like “???????????????? I mean thank you so much I love it but like ????????????”
Mina Ashido
Yeah she doesn’t have any hoodies anymore
“Girls” night is very important where it’s basically every other night where they sleep in each other’s dorm rooms but instead of going to sleep at 1am they go to sleep at 6am on a Friday
Every morning she puts a ridiculous amount of makeup on y/n and y/n the whole time is like “I am totally willing to go to school like this”
But by the end Mina just wipes it all off :(
Brags about each other CONSTANTLY
Kirishima and Kaminari made a whole mix tap of Bakugo telling them to shut up about each other
With Kaminari’s crappy beat boxing ✨
They both go to Momo’s dorm and all study together (let’s be real they aren’t really studying just kidding around) all the time
(If a female y/n) They get their periods at the same time and it’s so miserable cause they can’t take care of each other 💔
If Mineta hits on either one??
The next day the other will ask to train with him and he’ll think someone finally likes him back but turns out they were just trying to beat him up for revenge
Tsuyu Asui
HATES PDA
DON’T YOU DARE HOLD HER HAND NO
Headcanon she’s aromatic (aromatics can still want a romantic relationship with someone and fall in love and stuff, it’s just really unlikely) (feel free to tell me how it works; I’m in the community but haven’t done a large amount of research on aromatics)
Random compliments
Just randomly “hey *ribbit* your outfits really nice today”
💙 swimming dates or going to the pond💙
Double dates with the rest of the Dekusquad couples
Loudly cheers each other on in training
Y/n gives Tsu a frog plush and she’s to scared to sleep with it thinking she’ll drool on it or something so it’s on a shelf that only has special items
Remembers every little thing like they could say they needs to do something in a few months and Tsu will remind them
Eat Bento Boxes together at lunch all the time 🍱
Once y/n was like “what do I feed the pond frogs?????” And Tsu went on a long rant about how to handle frogs
She has a passion okay
Sends goodnight texts at like 8:30 and y/n finds it hilarious that she literally goes to bed at 8:30
(When they finds out about Bakugo they laughs at him and Deku mutters “he deserves it”)
“I love you” *internal panic, like that one spongebob scenes in his head where there’s a ton of little sponge bobs burning stuff* “uhhh um uh thanks” “WAIT IM SO SORRY I LOVE YOU TO SO MUCH” *bursts into laughter*
Tenya Iida
Study dates where they lose track of time and accidentally stay up till two in the morning
Definition of slow burn
Literally, for two years he clearly had a crush on them but didn’t realize it and at some point Deku and generally the whole Dekusquad got tired of it and Ochaco just yelled at him one day “YOU LITERALLY LIKE Y/N HOW DO YOU NOT NOTICE?!?!?”
He just like o ^ 0
Literally plans every date for weeks
He doesn’t love physical affection, he likes it just not all the time, prefers giving gifts and time to each other
Best listeners ever
(Slightly angsty headcanon) one time he had pulled a bunch of all nighters studying and failed a test from not taking in the info and cried and y/n comforted him :(
Literally thanks the universe every night for y/n because he’s a sweetheart
When his brother gets forced into retirement y/n comforts him SO HARD
Y/n would low key be on board with the “murder stain” plan if Iida told them
Cause they are best friends with his brother
When they first got together and they meet each other they thought he was super intimidating cause he’s the “if you break his heart I’ll break your nose” type but then became really good friends because of how each of them care for Iida (well that was what started it)
Doesn’t get jealous whatsoever
Y/n could literally kiss some guys hand or cheek and he’s just like “their a really friendly person and I trust them”
Arguments on who’s gonna pay for dinner lol and then he’s just like
“Oh my god what we split the Bill” like he just had the best smartest idea ever
And y/n’s like “ :0 that such A good idea!!!!!” Cause they are both semi himbo
Ochako Uraraka
As soon as Ochako said she was poor y/n just started randomly giving her money
“Hey Ochako how’s your day” “oh good good you” “yeah I’m doin good anyways here’s fifty dollars”
She makes y/n a ton of hand made gifts and likes baking for them (I headcanon that she likes baking uwu)
If she buys y/n anything they know she was saving up for it and appreciates the heck out of it
Volunteers at the family business all the time 😌
Her bed is covered in stuffed animals and when she misses y/n she cuddles up to them and y/n find it so sad yet adorable
They would be nervous to tell anyone so it would be a secret for a while
Until one day Deku asks if Ochako wants to study with him and Iida and find them cuddling while reading
He definitely freaks out and blush’s but tells no one
After a few months they do tell the class tho they supportive
Okay the whole Dekusquad and y/n calls All Might Dad
When their older they go to pride parades (even if it’s not a lgbtq relationship) and wear “free mom/ dad/ parent hug” shirt and it’s adorable
Constantly touching each other
Could be hugging or hand holding or even as little as just having their hand on the others shoulder
Both find it werid how they somehow have the same taste in music
Part 1 (gonna be four parts lol wanna do the whole class)
162 notes · View notes
longitudinalwaveme · 3 years
Text
Arkham Files: Pied Piper
Hugo Strange: From the patient files of Dr. Hugo Strange, director of Arkham Asylum. Patient: Hartley Rathaway, alias Henry Darrow; also known as the Pied Piper. The patient shows signs of depression and general emotional distress, but I have not yet been able to give him a full psychiatric evaluation. Session One. So, young man, your name is Hartley Rathaway? 
Pied Piper: Yes, sir. 
Hugo Strange: Any connection to Osgood and Rachel Rathaway, the billionaire publishing magnates? 
Pied Piper: They’re my parents, sir. 
Hugo Strange: (Surprised) You mean to tell me that you’re that Hartley Rathaway? The boy who was set to inherit a fortune as large as the GDP of some small countries? 
Pied Piper: I’m the only Hartley Rathaway! Ever! Nobody but my parents would stick a child with a name like that! 
Hugo Strange: So if that is who you are, young man, why in the world would you have ever decided to put on a costume, call yourself the Pied Piper, and embark on a life of crime using weaponized musical instruments? 
Pied Piper: Because someone had to even the score. 
Hugo Strange: What do you mean, even the score? You had life handed to you on a silver platter. You grew up in a palatial mansion, with servants to tend to your every need. You had the best education money could buy, you traveled all around the world, and you were set to inherit one of the largest fortunes in the country. What injustice could a pampered prince like you possibly have faced? 
Pied Piper: None, sir. I’m not evening the score for myself. I’m evening it for the poor, the downtrodden, the people who through no fault of their own are denied the opportunity to even know that they’ll have a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs. My parents and people like them live in scandalous luxury that they didn’t even earn, and they have the nerve to say that the poor are lazy and selfish! It’s unjust and unfair, and yet everyone turns a blind eye! I...I had to do something! 
Hugo Strange: (A bit taken aback) I must admit, young man, I was not expecting to hear a manifesto from someone of your background. (Pause) I take it that you don’t simply steal for kicks in the way that your file seems to suggest? 
Pied Piper: Not often. Usually, I take the money from people who won’t even notice it’s gone and give it to people who really need it. 
Hugo Strange: So you think of yourself as some sort of Robin Hood, then? Stealing from the rich to give to the poor? 
Pied Piper: I wouldn’t have thought to put in those specific terms, but...I suppose I do, yes.
Hugo Strange: Why not just give away your own money, Mr. Rathaway? Certainly you have access to more than enough of it. 
Pied Piper: (Laughs quietly) I tried that once. When my parents found out, it became part of the argument that got me disowned, disinherited, and thrown off of their estate without a dollar to my name. 
Hugo Strange: Your parents disowned you? 
Pied Piper: Yes. They even paid the FBI to give me the identity of Henry Darrow just so I could never be traced back to them. If the Flash and that brilliant young reporter hadn’t stumbled onto the connection between me and my parents somehow, Hartley Rathaway probably would have been effectively erased from existence. 
Hugo Strange: That does at least explain why your file gives you two entirely separate names and histories. I admit that that had been puzzling me, Mr. Rathaway. 
Pied Piper: Well, now you know. (Pause) How did I end up in Arkham Asylum, Doctor? Even if someone had become convinced that I was mentally ill, Breedmore Psychiatric Hospital would seem to be much more conveniently located. 
Hugo Strange: It would be. In fact, there are any number of prisons and psychiatric facilities that would be more conveniently located to the area of the Twin Cities than Arkham Asylum...but through a series of judicial and political decisions to which I was not privy, somehow all of you “Rogues” were placed under my watch. (Pause) So, Mr. Rathaway, you went from being one of the wealthiest and most privileged people in the country to being homeless and penniless. I imagine that that was not an easy transition for you. 
Pied Piper: No, it wasn’t. Although the panic didn’t kick in right away. It wasn’t until I used my sonic technology to steal forty thousand dollars from my parents’ company, and then gave the money away to people in need, that my anger subsided and it really hit me that I was impoverished. All I had left was my hypnotic flute and the silly costume I had made out of my mother’s nice shower curtains in order to disguise myself while I was stealing money from her company, and I was panicking. Which in hindsight is probably why I made the stupid decision to hypnotize a group of random crooks into becoming a sort of gang, told them that my name was the Pied Piper, and tried to become their leader. One of them probably would have ended up shooting me within a couple of days, but because my sonic abilities were quite unusual, the Flash showed up to arrest us before I got myself killed. They went to prison, but for some reason that was never adequately explained, I was released from the police station without even being booked. 
Hugo Strange: How could that have happened, Mr. Rathaway? 
Pied Piper: My parents’ money, of course. They hadn’t had the time to create a false identity for me yet, so I suspect that they simply bribed the police station into letting me go so that no one would know that the former heir to the Rathaway empire was now a common crook. 
Hugo Strange: And what happened after that?
Pied Piper: I almost starved to death. 
Hugo Strange: And what saved you? 
Pied Piper: Well, I had sat down on a park bench and was sort of waiting to die when I suddenly came face-to-face with a pair of blue pixie shoes that were floating four feet off the ground. The pixie shoes were attached to a blonde kid in a garish leotard. He asked me if I was the kid with the magic flute, and when I said yes, he told me that he was the Trickster and invited me to stay with him in his apartment for a couple days. I agreed when he told me that he also had food. During the month I stayed with him, he gave me a crash course on how to survive on the streets...although most of the other Rogues insist that I must not have learned very much from it. 
Hugo Strange: Why is that, Mr. Rathaway? 
Pied Piper: Because I still give away basically all the money that I steal. Most of it goes to the poor, and the rest of it goes to my parents, to pay them back for the money they spent on trying to mold me into someone I could never be. That way, they can stop complaining about all the money they wasted on me. (Pause) Captain Cold insists that if I had any sense, I would keep some of the money for myself, but why would I do that? I spent my early life in unimaginable luxury. It’s only fair that I go without to help the poor now. 
Hugo Strange: So you’re martyring yourself for the sins of your parents? 
Pied Piper: I’m not martyring myself. I’m just doing what needs to be done. 
Hugo Strange: Sacrificing your own financial well-being for the sake of others is not healthy, Mr. Rathaway. With a philosophy like yours, I’m surprised that you’re even still alive. (Pause) Incidentally, how have you managed to survive multiple stints in prison? A skinny, sheltered ex-aristocrat like you would seem to be an obvious target. 
Pied Piper: Which is why I don’t call attention to myself whilst incarcerated. You’d be surprised how effective keeping your head down and your mouth shut can be. (Pause) Well, that, and Captain Cold has made it pretty clear that if anyone messes with me, they’re also messing with him. And almost no one is willing to get on Captain Cold’s bad side. 
Hugo Strange: So your status as one of the Rogues protects you? 
Pied Piper: Yes, sir. (Pause) But if I really had to, I think I could survive without them. I may be a sheltered ex-aristocrat, but I’m also a master hypnotist. I didn’t take up the name Pied Piper for nothing, Dr. Strange. 
Hugo Strange: Yes, your file does go into great detail about the effectiveness of your hypnotic instruments. When you first arrived on the scene, there were even some people who thought that you might be the Pied Piper of the folktales, due not only to your powers but also the fact you seemed to appear and disappear almost at will, without ever really getting caught (Pause) Of course, from what you’ve told me, I can guess that the explanation for your remarkably infrequent imprisonments was due to your parents’ wealth, rather than to any magical powers.
Pied Piper: Those rumors were actually quite helpful. When people thought I might be magical, they put considerably less effort into tracking me, and that gave me a lot more freedom to do things like volunteering at homeless shelters and food pantries. 
Hugo Strange: But you are not magical, Mr. Rathaway. You are only a man. 
Pied Piper: I know that, Dr. Strange. If I had magical powers, I’d be a lot farther along in my goal of helping uplift the downtrodden than I am. 
Hugo Strange: Mr. Rathaway, that was not what I was trying to tell you. Wanting to help others is an admirable goal, but the methods which you are taking to pursue it are decidedly unhealthy. You are a human being with human needs, and you are discounting them all in your desperation to prove that you are worth loving. While I believe that you honestly want to help others, I also believe that there is a part of you that is still trying to earn the love which it sounds like you were denied as a child. You’re hoping that if you sacrifice enough, you will finally be accepted as worthy...but you are giving too much. 
Pied Piper: Too much? 
Hugo Strange: Yes, Mr. Rathaway. Too much. (Pause) Think of it this way. If you starve to death because you have no money to pay for food, you will no longer be around to feed anyone else...and by giving away all of the money you bring in, illicitly or otherwise, that is effectively what you are risking. And it’s certainly what you’re doing to yourself on an emotional level.
Pied Piper: (Quietly) It’s what I was taught to do, Dr. Strange. What I wanted wasn’t important. What I needed wasn’t even important. The only thing that was important was upholding the family name. My parents have always made it quite clear that their love for me was conditional on whether I would sacrifice what I was to be their idea of the perfect heir, and I tried. For eighteen years, I tried, but it was never enough. Not after I’d been born deaf. 
Hugo Strange: Yes, your files mention that. Your files also mention that your deafness was cured thanks to a pair of highly advanced hearing aids, which were created by Dr. William Magnus. The operation cost millions of dollars, and it granted you far more than the normal range of hearing. 
Pied Piper: 14 hertz to 55,000 hertz. I hear more sounds than a dog. (Pause) And all the nasty things that people whisper behind my back when they think I can’t hear. 
Hugo Strange: Are you glad that you were given these hearing aids, Mr. Rathaway? 
Pied Piper: Very much so. Without them, I’d never have known what music sounded like. (Pause) But to be honest? If I had to choose between being deaf and knowing that my parents loved me, and being able to hear and knowing that it was entirely because my parents didn’t want the social embarrassment of having a disabled son, I’d choose the world of silence. And I hate silence.
Hugo Strange: Mr. Rathaway, you have spent your entire life sacrificing your own needs, either for the needs of others or for your parent’s desire for a so-called ‘perfect’ heir. That is why the request I am going to make of you will be so difficult. (Pause) Between now and our next session, I want you to write down something that you really want to do. Not something you think you should want to do; something that you actually want to do. 
Pied Piper: But-
Hugo Strange: Mr. Rathaway, you will never be able to achieve healing until you recognize that your wants and needs are just as valid as anyone else’s. You will not be able to care for others in a healthy way until you learn to care for yourself. 
27 notes · View notes
pagesoflauren · 4 years
Text
The Highest Bidder Ch. 1 (Ransom Drysdale x reader; sugar daddy!AU)
Tumblr media
Summary: A graduate-level education is a costly pursuit. When you move out of state to study in Boston, expenses pile up, leading you to auction off what is apparently your most valuable asset: your virginity. It goes to the highest bidder…who happens to be Ransom Drysdale.
There are no major spoilers for Knives Out. Consider this as an alternate timeline. There will be references to the movie/its characters and family dynamics revealed in the movie.
Warnings: loss of virginity, explicit sexual content/smut, angst, sugar daddy/baby arrangement, dark elements, dubcon, cliffhangers, minor spoilers for Knives Out, unprotected sex, irresponsible driving (don’t drink and drive!), swearing, Ransom is an asshole (more to add and if you spot any that I’ve missed, please kindly let me know!)
A/N: Huge disclaimer...I really didn’t want to end this chapter the way I did, but it was getting a little too long...but there’s more coming! Don’t worry, please don’t send an angry mob after me 😱  Big love to @threeminutesoflife and @caffiend-queen for beta-ing this for me! ❤️ One last thing about the text messages: Italics are sent messages and bold italics are received messages :)
This chapter is written under the assumption that the reader drinks alcohol.
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
With his bedroom illuminated by the flashing images of his television, Ransom lounged lazily in his bed. One hand was occupied with his phone as his thumb slowly scrolled over the screen, the other idly wrapped around his cock as he took in the images on the device. 
Various girls, all a few years younger than him, staring with false wide-eyed innocence or sprawled out provocatively across recliners on sandy beaches or by turquoise-watered pools. Their names or aliases were listed under the respective photos, with a number in green text next to it. 
Deciding there were too many options, Ransom scrolled back up, the hand on his cock pausing as he started setting filters through the search. He changed them to specific hair colors, skin tones and a more concentrated age range. The only filter he didn’t change was the prices--there was no limit there. The page refreshed and showed him more favorable faces. 
His mind started to numb and the faces started looking too similar. As he was ready to pack it in for the night and tuck himself back into his boxers, a strange listing catches his attention. 
He sees you, kneeling in the sand at an apparent topical destination in a barely-there bikini. Unlike the other girls, though, your face is candid, caught in a laugh, eyes crinkled and lips spread in joy. There’s no price. Just the letters “HB” in red text. 
He clicks on your photo and the webpage changes to your profile. There’s a few more photos of you: one with a cat, more vacation photos. Your location is convenient: Boston. Not too far from where he is. 
But all of that fails to answer the question at the forefront of Ransom’s mind: Why don’t you have a price next to your name?
He scrolls through a couple more meaningless pieces of information: a little blurb about who you are, your measurements, your race and your conditions.
One time only.
“What?” he wonders aloud, face scrunching in curiosity. Sugar babies don’t just have sex once and then walk away with a fortune. From what he’s heard, they bitch and moan but shut up when there’s a cock in their mouth (or pussy, for that matter). They need to be looked after either because they can’t afford it or can’t be bothered to do things on their own. Then, once he reaches the end of your profile, he understands. 
Virginity Auction. Current Bid: $8,250.
Ransom smirks at the prospect. He wasn’t looking for a virgin, but he likes the idea of taking one now. 
The number changes in real time, going up in five dollar increments before someone brings it up to $8,500. A pop-up window appears, warning him that if he’s interested, the auction ends at midnight. Ransom’s eyes flick to the top of his phone. It’s 11:57.
He thinks for a few ticks. If he pays you enough, he’ll have the convenience of entertaining himself between your legs and taking your virginity with no strings attached. Once that’s done, you’ll be out of his hair. He wouldn’t have to put you up, send you money or deal with your whining or complaining. 
Sounds like a good deal. 
Pressing his thumb into the blue button that says “Bid,” Ransom looks at the clock again. 11:58. 
Initially, he types in $10,000. But with two minutes to go and your price still ticking up, he doesn’t want to chance getting outbid by someone at the last second. He has to blow the other bidders out of the water. 
Tumblr media
Sat up in your bed and wringing your hands nervously, you look at your cracked phone screen. Midnight has just passed and you’re waiting for a notification about the final bid in your auction. It started at $5,000 and in the week that the listing was posted, you had gotten notifications whenever it went to the next thousand. 
This isn’t how you wanted to lose your virginity. Ideally, you would have genuinely made love to somebody, someone your parents would have approved of and who truly cared for you. Even more ideally, it would have been the man who eventually became your husband...though you wouldn’t have waited until marriage to lose your V-card. You were about to take the next step in life and--you had to face it--you weren’t getting younger. 
What was the least ideal of it all was the fact that you were doing this out of pure desperation. Your graduate program was starting in a month and your savings were mostly gobbled up by application and testing fees. Living out of state didn’t help either; most of your money went to paying rent and commuting around the city. If someone paid you enough to tide your finances over, you could live off that money until the end of the semester, after adjusting to the program and your schedule, before taking on a job off campus. 
Your phone buzzed with an email from the website and you tapped the banner. Your email app launched and opened directly to the message. 
Your auction has ended. 
Reading further, you can’t believe what you see. 
Winning bid: $50,000 by Ransom Drysdale.
Fifty thousand dollars? Surely there must be a mistake. Why would someone pay ten times the starting bid? 
And Drysdale...where had you seen that name? 
Closing your eyes, you searched your recollection to place the name. It’s so familiar. 
Deciding your memory is unreliable, you resolve to a Google search of your highest bidder’s last name. 
The first result that pops up is a real estate company and a picture of famed author Harlan Thrombey, who apparently is the father of the woman who owns the business.
You feel faint...these names are not insignificant in Massachusetts, let alone the world. Harlan was a best-selling mystery writer--you had some of his books in your library back home. 
Then concern floods your brain: if this Linda Drysdale is Harlan Thrombey’s daughter, that makes Thrombey her maiden name. She must’ve married a Drysdale. 
Are you a pawn in some horrible cheating scandal? You must be, nobody has the name Ransom. It has to be an alias. Her husband must be looking for some young thing to get his rocks off. 
Stress causes your scalp to prickle as your phone buzzes again with a text message from the semi-mysterious Ransom, checking if it’s you, that he has the right number. 
Yes, you reply. 
The three dotted message bubble pops up before turning into another message.
Good. I’ve made a reservation at The Boxer in the city for Saturday. I told them you’ll check in. I told them not to charge you anything, but if you need to pay any fees, I’ll send you the money back. I’ll be there after 9. 
A chill runs down your spine at how direct he is. But, you suppose you can’t expect anything more from him. 
Okay, you acknowledge.
More dots, then another message.
Dress appropriately.
Despite your lack of experience in the bedroom, you know for a fact that he’s not referring to office attire. 
Settling back onto your pillow, you pull the covers over yourself and breathe slowly. You’ve got some preparation to do.
Tumblr media
What do you bring with you when you’re planning to lose your virginity to a complete stranger in exchange for tuition money? 
Fuck all if you have a clue. 
You spent the days leading up to Saturday getting yourself ready. You bought a tight dress and pair of strappy heels from the sale racks. You cluelessly browsed for lingerie before an associate took pity on you (or just desperately wanted you out of her store, jury’s still out on that) and helped you select a lacy set complete with a garter and stockings. The associate absolutely gushed at how the color of the material complemented your skin tone, though you could care less. You forked over $120 for the damn thing and scampered out. Learning from your friends’ mistakes, you purchased a set of condoms using the self-checkout kiosk (and prayed you picked the right size). You weren’t instructed to buy condoms, but you figured you wouldn’t risk the chance of not having any. You endured a Brazilian wax, stifling profanities as the woman did her work. You also had trouble getting over your embarrassment; a stranger was going to see you bared all for him in a few days so if you can’t handle the wax lady seeing you, how could you handle “Ransom”?
Ransom.
Thinking about him did nothing for your nerves. You were certain you were going to lose your virginity to a man in his late 50s, who was married to Massachusetts’ biggest real estate mogul and the daughter of a renowned author. 
Dear God, what if she found out? Her father wrote murder mysteries, she had plenty of ways to kill you and get away with it. What if you weren’t even meeting “Ransom” and you were meeting Linda and she was going to kill you at the hotel?
You shake your head and look back down at the contents of your duffel bag: toiletries, a change of clothes for tomorrow, the condoms and your phone charger. You had created a playlist on your phone...if you weren’t going to lose your virginity to someone you loved, then maybe you could fake it with music. 
Who are you kidding? you chide yourself. 
You sigh and resolve to getting ready. After eating dinner, you strip off your old band t-shirt and sweatpants, remove your simple cotton underwear and novelty pineapple-patterned socks before discarding them into your laundry hamper. 
You shimmy into the lacy knickers, the material feeling quite uncomfortable against your skin. You clip the bra on next, followed by the garter around your waist.  Then you finish off with the stockings over your legs, stopping at mid-thigh. After fastening the clips on the suspenders to the lace trim at the top of the hosiery, you sit at your vanity to apply some makeup and fix your hair. 
“‘Dress appropriately’,” you mutter as you pull your dress from your tiny closet, “Hopefully this is appropriate enough.”
You maneuver yourself into your dress, struggling with the zipper for a moment then smoothing the material over yourself. You slide your feet into your heels and teeter a bit as you stand up. 
You’re not planning to really impress too much, so you pull on a downy, puffy jacket to combat the sea breeze the city gets in the evenings. 
Pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, you look in the mirror one last time. You catch the reflection of the clock: it’s almost seven thirty. Taking into account how long it’ll take for your rideshare to arrive at your house and the traffic in the city on a Saturday night, you’ll arrive at the hotel a little after eight. You suppose now’s a good a time as any to leave. 
Requesting a car for pickup, you realize there’s no going back. 
Tumblr media
Stepping into the hotel lobby, you know you don’t belong here. 
With modern touches and old architectural charm, the men wearing luxury tailored suits and women wearing unaffordable dresses, you felt you stood out like a sore thumb. The most luxurious hotel you had stayed at was a Holiday Inn Express near Disneyland. And it barely had functioning lighting. 
You timidly approach the front desk. Though the receptionist gives you a warm smile, you’re not comforted. 
“Hi, I’m here to check in for Drysdale?”
The man’s eyebrows raise in what you assume is recognition. 
Maybe this “Ransom” meets other escorts here often, then.
“While we would normally ask you to cover the fees upon checking in, Mr. Drysdale is a very good friend of the hotel so we’ve accommodated his request to make an exception,” the man informs you as he types away. He grabs a keycard and hands it to you. 
“You’ll be in room 6-F. Have a pleasant stay.”
“Thank you,” you say meekly, taking the card before turning to take an elevator up. 
Once on the sixth floor, you locate and unlock the room. The lights turn on automatically and you’re met with a cool gray toned room, which gives the room a darker atmosphere already. 
The entrance is narrow and you assume the bathroom is on the other side of the wall on your right. With wobbly steps, you move forward and see the room open up. 
The first thing you notice is the king-sized bed. Beyond it, the windows show illuminated facades of buildings outside. On the wall opposite the bed is a desk with a speaker and aux cord on top of the marble workspace and a fridge underneath. A TV is mounted on the wall above the desk. Next to it is an open wardrobe with a bathrobe hanging, cubbies and drawers, as well as a tray of refreshments. 
You set your bag on the bottom shelf of the wardrobe and retrieve the remote to turn on the TV to create some white noise and maybe kill some time (and nerves) as you wait for nine o’clock to come around. 
You wander into the bathroom and look yourself over in the mirror. You shake out your hands and pace, deciding to take off your heels for now as you pad around the room. 
Tumblr media
Ransom was bored of dinner and his host knew it. Everyone else kept a level of decorum, but all the guests knew this get together was extending much longer than necessary. 
Checking his watch, it was quarter to nine. He threw back the rest of his drink before nodding to his friend and exchanging brief glances as he got up. Haphazard goodbyes were thrown his way as he pulled on his jacket and Ransom gave a nod of acknowledgement. He exits the restaurant, whistling to get the valet’s attention and handing the man his ticket as he pulls out his phone. 
Where are you? he messages you. 
At the hotel, sir. Room 6-F. 
“‘Sir’,” he muses to himself, smirking at the title you’d given him. He didn’t even need to tell you to address him that way. 
Have them bring up my usual from the bar.
Yes, sir.
Wondering how far he can take this, he asks you to send him a picture. 
He’s surprised with how quickly you comply. You’re sat on top of the sheets at the edge of the bed, leaned forward so your elbow can rest on your knee and the camera can get a view of the plunging neckline of your dress. Your hair falls nicely over your face and your palm cradles your chin. 
He can’t lie, he loves the way you look. You may as well be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. 
Taking a few deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down; he can’t get hard yet. 
He puts his phone into one pocket and reaches into the other as the valet returns with his car. When the valet approaches, Ransom hands over a few sad, crumpled bills as a tip before walking around to the driver’s side of his car and climbing in. Sending one last message to you, he pulls away from the curb and heads to the hotel. 
Tumblr media
I’m on my way. Make sure my drink is there before me.
You let out a spastic sound of nervousness and shook out your hands again before getting up to pace around the room again. 
The drink was on the way, you placed the order as soon as he told you to. You didn’t want to give him any excuse to not pay or complain you were unsatisfactory. Though, not having any experience in bed might prove that mission to be difficult regardless of whether or not his drink came in time. 
There’s a knock on the door and you jog over, pulling the door open to find a waiter holding a tray with a glass of what you assume is Scotch perched on top, covered with one of those signature little hats hotels always place on top of glasses. 
“Thank you,” you smile, carefully receiving the glass from him. He bows silently and turns to leave. 
You shut the door and place the glass on a coaster you find on the desk. You bother yourself with where the glass should rest (next to the speaker? on the far end, closest to the wardrobe?). Deciding it should be on the bedside table, you move the glass and coaster there then return to the desk to plug your phone in and play some music. You cringe at your choice to include Ed Sheeran in this playlist, but there’s no going back now. 
Suddenly, you hear the clicking sound of the door unlocking and you scramble over to sit on the bed to put your heels on. 
When you look up, you’re shocked to not find a man in his late 50s, nor the severe looking woman you’ve seen plastered on real estate posters. 
You find a man who can’t be that much older than you, dark hair and blue eyes that stand out in the dim light of the entry hallway. His cheeks are pale and rosy, framed by a strong jawline. He’s tall, crown of his head so high towards the ceiling. His broad shoulders nearly touch either side of the walls as he approaches you. 
He’s dressed rather casually, as if he was out to dinner with friends. The color palette of his outfit matches the hotel room: cool gray henley shirt, black blazer and jeans, finished off with a pair of brown boots and belt to match. If you’re honest, he looks like a model. He looks like he could have any woman he wanted. 
Why the hell does he want a virgin?
When he comes to stand in the room, hands tucked into his pockets, he looks you up and down from where you’re seated. His lips pucker thoughtfully and you see how perfectly pink and full they are and you wonder what it would be like to kiss them...
Nope. We’re not doing that. It’s a one time thing and that’s that. You remind yourself.
His eyes catch the glass on the bedside table and he plucks it up, removing the paper covering before bringing it to his lips to drink.
When the glass is halfway to his mouth, he hooks a finger at you. “Stand up.”
As he drinks, you obey, rising from your place on the mattress and smoothing down your dress before folding your hands together. 
He pauses his sipping, “Turn.” 
Hands falling out of each other’s grip, they land at your sides rather limply and you begin turning, giving him a three-sixty view of your body. You feel heat creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. 
When you come back to face him, he throws his head back to finish his drink and places the glass back on the bedside table, but he misses the coaster. You cringe inwardly at the ring that will surely form on the surface later. 
Your breath catches in your throat when your eyes meet his. You feel like a deer in headlights, unmoving as his gaze continues to flit over your figure. You wonder if he knows you’re holding your breath. You wonder if he can hear how quickly your heart is pounding. 
When he goes to take off his jacket, things start feeling real. You don’t know how to describe the sound that leaves your throat, maybe something a frightened toad would make. Ransom halts and throws you a perplexed look and you cover your mouth in embarrassment. 
He rolls his eyes. “You nervous?”
The words blend together, but his voice is so honeyed and silken and you can’t help but sigh inwardly at the sound of it. 
Your jaw is slack and can’t make any sounds rise from your larynx. You snap your mouth shut and manage to nod stiffly. 
Rolling his eyes again, he crosses the room to the mini fridge under the desk and pulls the door open. Crouching down, he shuffles through the various little bottles inside before turning and tossing one to you. 
Your balance teeters as you fumble to catch it, the glass slipping out of your grip a few times before you fully grasp it.
The cap makes a cracking sound as it separates from the tamper evident band when you twist it open. You don’t bother to look at the label or pay any mind to the color of the liquid. Once the bottle’s open, you tilt your head back and drink, feeling the burn travel down your throat. When you stop, you notice you’ve had almost all of it. 
Your eyes meet Ransom’s again and he raises his brows as if to ask, Better?
You finish the remaining contents of the bottle and feel the liquid settle in your belly as you twist the cap back on.
“Thank you,” you muster your voice to say. 
His eyebrows raise again, showing his disinterest, and he holds his hand out. You’re certain you resemble a child when you use both hands to carefully place the bottle in his hands. There’s a flicker of confusion that crosses his face and you think you were meant to place your hand in his, but he turns and places the bottle on the desk. 
There’s a sense of dread that settles in your stomach when you realize there really is no going back and no more stalling. You can’t read the expression on his face, but you’re certain he’s not pleased with how slowly this is going. 
Summoning your courage, you reach your hands up behind you and begin to pull the zipper down...
Tumblr media
Permatag: @caffiend-queen @fckdeusername @lou-la-lou
Chris tag: @onetwo3000 @patzammit
Ransom tag: @jeremyrennermakesmesmile
Highest Bidder Taglist: @sapphirescrolls @just-another-wretched-egg @ladynightshade30 @angstsfordays @icanfeelastormbrewing @buckysteveloki-me @what-is-your-plan-today @iloganjade @twittytelly @xoxabs88xox @an-awkward-human-1 @fanfiction-trashpile @jtargaryen18 @donutloverxo @meaganottiz02 @princess-evans-addict @kianifan @asiaaisa77 @kelbabyblue @my-emotional-self @saiyanprincessswanie @random-things-i-love @captainchrisstan @daughterofthenight117 @buchanansebba @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @andiebell2023 @avengerraven1023 @dahkness @thatonefangirl111 @sllooney @sheerfreesia007 @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @suzieqsez @farremoved @edge-ofparadise @bellaireland1981​
A note about tags: If your name is crossed out, I couldn’t tag you for some reason. While comments asking for me to tag you are okay, it is much easier for me to keep track of my tag lists if you send an ask. That’s the sure fire way to guarantee I’ll tag you. 
Additionally, if I forgot to tag you, please gently remind me via my ask box.
1K notes · View notes
buckybeardreams · 3 years
Text
Unwanted
Chapters: 9/11
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener
Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting
Series: Part 1 of Second Chances
Summary:
Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 
That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.
Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11
Can also be read here
Words: 1,612
"You're not unhappy that we bonded, right?"
Tony rolled his eyes.
"If I was I wouldn't be curled up in bed right now after letting you fuck my brains out."
Steve smirked.
"I think you were the one doing the fucking. I just laid there while you rode me."
"Yeah, but next time I'm gonna make you do all the work and I'm just gonna lay there and be the pillow princess. Let my Alpha take care of me," Tony said, his fingers trailing down Steve's chest and a sultry pout on his lips. "You'd do that for me, wouldn't you, Alpha?"
"You know I'd do anything to please you, baby."
"I know, because you're such a good boy," Tony murmured, kissing him. "Mm, as much as I'd love to stick around and let you fuck me on every surface in your apartment, I really have to get going or I'm gonna be late."
"I'll drive you," Steve offered.
"You're sweet, but no, I'm good. If I take you with me I'm just gonna end up fucking you in the break room and then the manager is gonna be an asshole about it."
Steve growled.
"I hate that guy more every time you talk about him."
Tony hummed, kissing him again.
"Yeah, well, I think most bosses disapprove of fucking in the employee's room. Even the not asshole ones.
"No, I don't mean that. We definitely can't do that, no matter how much I like the idea of you bossing me around at your work. I just think this Obie guy sounds like the worst and every time I've run into him just confirms that."
Tony didn't even try to disagree with that assessment.
"Like last week when he gave you shit for having to leave early because of your heat. There are laws in place to protect Omegas from being forced to work while in heat, but you practically had to beg him for the days off and then apologize for not being able to work and he still gave you shit about it. Then he had the audacity to act like he had done you some great favor and made you work extra shifts to make up for it. He didn't even pay you overtime, even though he made you work like sixty hours."
"Hey, hey, calm down. You're getting yourself all worked up about it and I don't want that. I appreciate your concern, I really do, and I love that you're so protective. Which is honestly something I never thought I'd say, but you need to take a deep breath. I've got it all under control."
Steve tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm down like his Omega told him to, but it didn't do much to alleviate his anger.
"I know, I'm sorry. I just wish you didn't have to deal with him."
"Well, I won't have to for much longer."
Steve frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Tony shifted on his lap, looking down at his lap nervously.
"Well, I was actually gonna tell you about this, but we've just been so caught up in our own little bubble and I didn't want to burst it by bringing up legal stuff. Besides, I almost forgot about it with all the newly mated hormones rushing through me," Tony rambled.
"Tony, love, just tell me."
"We tried to get Obie fired, but the owner, Alexander Pierce, was backing him, so we're taking him to court. They've been doing a whole bunch of shady stuff that's totally illegal, from paying people off to pass inspections and dealing drugs out back in the alley, to denying us health insurance, making us work overtime but not paying us overtime, and usually they make the Omegas work during heat. I think Obie only gave in this time, because he thought you might beat his ass if he called me in for work."
There was an amused smile on Tony's face, but he was looking at Steve, worried about his reaction. Steve was furious, but not at Tony. He knew that Obie was an asshole, but he had no idea just how bad it really was.
"Baby, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I shouldn't have let you work for a guy like that. I'm your Alpha. I should have protected you, provided for you so you didn't have to work-"
"Hey, no, stop," Tony told him. "I love you so much, Alpha, but I don't want that. This was my battle to fight and I wasn't about to let you take that away from me. I've been dealing with this bullshit for years and now I'm finally changing things. You have to let me do this."
Steve felt awed by his little Omega. So much strength wrapped up in such a small little package it was unbelievable, and to think he was all Steve's. Steve kissed him, hard and lingering.
"I would never take that away from you, Tony. I wouldn't dream of doing something like that, pretty Omega."
A shy smile crept onto Tony's face and his cheeks turned pink.
"Thank you, Alpha. That means a lot, and I mean, there's no guarantee that the next person who buys the place will be any better than Pierce, or that they will hire us all on again. There's really no guarantee anybody will buy the place anytime soon. Realistically, it'll probably be bulldozed and turned into a parking lot for the diner next door or something like that. We all know that we're probably gonna lose our jobs, but it's worth it to do the right thing and put Pierce behind bars."
Steve nodded, licking his lips and considering how to say what he wanted to say in a way that wouldn't offend Tony.
"You know that I think you're so strong and I'm so proud of you for doing this, right?"
Tony bit his lip, nodding uncertainly.
He wasn't sure where Steve was going with this.
"I think it's amazing that you're gonna do this and that you want to do this and I'll support you in this in any way that I can," Steve told him earnestly. "I know that this is your fight, Tony, and I would never take that away from you, but if you'll let me, I'd love to fight alongside you."
Tony broke out in a grin, wrapping his arms around Steve's neck.
"Yes! Oh my God, yes!" Tony squealed. "Fuck, you scared me there. I thought you were gonna say something awful, but I should have known you'd just say something charming and perfect."
Steve blushed, but he was grinning too.
"Right, well, you see, the thing is Tony that I have a lot of money-"
Tony pulled back, raising a brow at him.
" You have a lot of money. You , the eighteen year old artist and former virgin until I seduced your ass Alpha, has a lot of money?" Tony asked him, clearly amused and not believing him one bit. "Tell me, pretty boy, what do you consider a lot of money? The twenty dollar allowance your mommy gives every Saturday?"
Steve glared at him, but there wasn't any heat in it. If anything he was just really embarrassed and really turned on.
"Sam helped me out a lot when I was a kid. He helped me turn my life around and he helped get my art into some galleries. He's got this friend, an ex of his, Pepper Potts. She's like a brilliant business woman and she runs her own company, but she also has a few major art galleries where she displays art from some of the most prominent artists in the states. I'm talking big shots, well known artists that make hundreds of thousands of dollars selling one painting."
Tony was just staring at him, like he was having a hard time figuring out if this was just some elaborate joke or not.
"Steve... what are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying that she saw some of my work, loved it, and put it up in her galleries. I've only sold a handful, but I've made a lot of money. Your bar is not that great, no offense, and I don't really spend much of my money other than for, like, rent and groceries, so there's a lot of it just sitting around. We could probably just buy the bar. That is if you want to be an owner of a bar."
Steve swallowed hard and fidgeted nervously with the bottom of Tony's shirt when he didn't respond. Tony was just shocked and pretty sure he was dreaming.
"I'm sorry, what? You're joking, right?" Tony said in disbelief. "Are you telling me that you have hundreds of thousands of dollars just lying around?"
Steve squirmed under Tony.
"I mean, not literally. It's all in the bank. Most of it's in my savings account since it earns more interest that way-"
"Shut up, I don't care about that," Tony said, cutting off his nervous rambling. "Are you for real? You have that kind of money and you'd be willing to let me buy a bar with it?"
Steve bit his lip.
"Yeah, I mean, Tony, I'd do anything for you. So if you want a bar then I'll buy you a bar. It's no big deal."
"No big deal? It's a huge deal!"
Steve wasn't sure if he was upset or excited, but then Tony was wrapping his arms around his neck and kissing him.
"Fuck, I love you so much. You know that, right?" Tony groaned against his lips.
Steve nodded, whimpering into his mouth when Tony kissed him again.
6 notes · View notes
ixellent · 3 years
Text
So in case you’re not on twitter a bunch of artists recently announced they were working with an “eco friendly” NFT company and the reactions were mixed but I wanted to put a few simple notes without even talking about the environmental impact of NFTs as a whole, like let’s just skip the whole discussion of that part for a second. It’s not that I don’t think it’s important, but it’s a little bit of a distraction on this issue because people can split hairs and pull statistics over the cost of NFT vs carbon offsetting vs how much electricity we waste vs big corporations all day. This is probably not going to be how we finally pass legislation to stop pollution and save the planet, so let’s just put a pin in that aspect and talk about ethically what’s going on.
1) Money Laundering A lot of artists were interested in NFT because they saw how much money people were allegedly making, right? We want that money, we feel that art is underpriced, undercut, underappreciated, it sucks out there! But! Why does NFT go for so much? Because it’s certified authentic ownership of digital art or whatever? We have been able to do this with digital files for a long time, quickly and easily, it’s called DRM. "Authenticity” and “owning an original” was never the reason. This has been happening in the fine art community for decades. (Rich) People use art to launder money because they can buy it for some amount of money*, insure it for even more money, have it valued at more money, and sell it to other people for obscene money and that’s a lot easier to explain than randomly paying someone thousands or hundreds of thousands of dollars for doing you a favor. It also effectively “hides” money the same way real estate can. It doesn’t mean it’s easy but it’s a loophole to avoid taxes and the IRS and makes your money look more “legitimate” on paper because less of your assets are liquid, they can still “appreciate” because the object of value the money is tied to can be subjectively desirable as to make it “worth” whatever you want. * Art CAN be somewhat objectively valued by experts and historians, kind of like how comics or Magic cards can be valued, but it is a unique good in that people can decide its value based on literally whatever they want, which is to say, nothing at all. And you can be like “Well what about LEGITIMATE art sales!” I don’t know how to explain to you that most art isn’t going to suddenly be worth thousands of more dollars overnight legitimately. Like aren’t people suspicious of the fact that people would suddenly be paying a lot of money for wafer-thin ownership of an image they made? You can be like “idc where the money comes from” I guess, but then you’re probably not concerned about the issue of unregulated markets in the first place lol. Here’s some articles: https://www.natlawreview.com/article/art-and-money-laundering  - This one does a great job explaining how private art sales and real estate manage this and what they’ve been trying to do to stymie it, as well as making it obvious how NFT sales are exactly the same as the warehouses people keep art in lol https://www.artandobject.com/news/how-money-laundering-works-art-world - this talks a bit about the big famous warehouse https://www.cnn.com/2020/07/29/business/art-money-laundering-sanctions-senate/index.html - I know it’s CNN but it talks a little about the red tape that allegedly exists and where it doesn’t https://news.artnet.com/market/think-artists-are-getting-rich-off-nfts-think-again-1962752 - your art isn’t worth thousands overnight lol
2) Artificial Scarcity So this is one of those things that people can come down a few different ways on. In the last few decades of The Internet, you’ll have some people who believe in a free and open internet and exchange of ideas and media, while other people want to keep ownership of the things they create and protect that ownership, and if you ask me, neither of them are wrong exactly! But that doesn’t matter because when we “mint NFTs” for art, it is artificial scarcity, because with a digital copy of work, you can redistribute, copy, paste, screenshot it as much as you want for personal use. It’s not illegal until you try to sell copies of things you DIDN’T create (and as we’ve seen with some vehement NFT benefiters, the lines for fair use, parody, and ownership are being ground into dust in order to make a buck), and it’s certainly frowned upon to repost or share it without permission. But NFTs create limited “certified original copies” or “ownership” of an image for no reason other than to give people a reason to inflate its value (see money laundering above).  As a digital artist, I’m not saying I think my art is less valuable because it’s digital, but I can create infinite copies of it - the file itself is worth virtually nothing but the demand for the labor it took to create it. A limited physical run of prints of digital art has ACTUAL scarcity because it may not be printed again, or might not be printed in that way, so the price can be set by demand/by the market! There are physical costs of materials, shipping etc. The physical cost of digital goods is measurable but not as easily because of the myriad of ways it is produced. My digital commissioners actually pay for the service of art rather than a physical good, and my freelance clients pay for the RIGHT to use an image as well as my labor, because there is no scarcity of digital materials themselves. This is not to say digital art does not need preservation at some point, or that it is a zero-cost-to-produce situation, but I hope you can see why limiting certificates of ownership of a digital file in this way to do art sales is suspicious and kind of weird. We have had secure methods of demonstrating creation and ownership of a digital file for a long time if we really wanted it to be about “ownership” but it wouldn’t stop people just screenshotting all the same. That’s why so many artists will offer the option to pay for ACCESS to the files and we still depend largely on the honor system! As they’ve been saying with piracy all these years, anyone who was going to pay for it would have, and all we can do is give people convenient, accessible ways to get the content they want to try and prevent them from stealing it, and some people always will because they think it should all be free. (And I’m not here to pass judgement on that! I’ve been on the internet a long time lol.) I just wanted to get this out because people got so up in arms about the ecological impact of NFTs (and rightly in a lot of ways! Sure!) and missed the part where the fine art business is MONEY LAUNDERING. Also idk but the fact that all the NFT stuff can literally just shut down and be gone forever isn’t really secure finances. You can tell me that it’s spread out on a bunch of computers so it doesn’t just disappear when one goes down, but it doesn’t appear to be so seamless in practice, and like all currency, we have to agree collectively that it’s worth something for it to be worth anything. https://www.businessinsider.com/what-happens-to-digital-art-nft-servers-shut-down-2021-3
13 notes · View notes
Text
Welcome to Chandelier does another fucking prompt list!!!!
And it’s in addition to consistent story uploads. Y’all gonna get something at 9am everyday of June, and something at a random time later in the afternoon.
This time I'm using @crowfootwrites' June List Day 1: Suit
*A note to Crow. Hello! I am an MCYT Writer. Feel free to stop by my tagging of your whenever you feel like it.
Set in a Villain AU created by @olde-scratch their original post
If anyone wants to be part of a taglist of the Villain AU, feel free to message me/send an ask.
Taglist: @sleepysnails
“Klupa” means “Bench” btw, I just tossed it through Google Translate.
-----------------------------
Hero Report
Page 1
Date: June 1st, 2021 Hero Reporting: Nightmare Patrol Time: 22:00 to 6:00
Had a run in with one of the Klupa boys, they were at the 24h Cupcakery on 6th street, and were harassing the employ, Nihachu, for something to eat. I spared Theseus twenty bucks and told them to keep the change. They even bought me a cupcake before I went on my way.
Does anybody know their real world identities yet? They look on the young side; I’d rather nothing bad happens to them. It hurts to see kids so young needing to resort to petty crime to survive.
I also bumped into SBI. They picked up their deposit left by 404 in the prior patrol. I managed to grab the briefcase, but the money was already taken and presumably dispersed among the men. I wasn’t able to apprehend them.
I got close to Burr but he let go of the briefcase to get away. And The Blade proceeded to smoke me, so I wasn’t able to give chase. But I was able to retrieve some of the money back, and they are one smoke bomb poorer.
The rest of the night was uneventful. I stopped a robbery on 9th Street.
[CONT]
- - -
Time: 21:30, May 31st, 2021
Tommy was having a good day. 404 had made good on his promise. He had left a briefcase with one million dollars in the homeless shelter’s food stores.
Tommy had watched 404 come in and leave it. The personal information Tubbo had managed to siphon was good enough blackmail to get them this. Ranboo hadn’t actually ever gotten a buyer lined up, but it was the threat that counts.
“How much are we leaving again?”
“Twenty-five hundred thousand.”
Tommy dropped to the floor once the coast was clear and unzipped his backpack. He separated out three quarters of the cash and left the briefcase right there.
“Do we have to leave it?” Ranboo asked over the frequency. “We could really use that money.”
“You know if we weren’t so charitable we wouldn’t need the extra cash.”
“Shut up man.”
“I’m just saying.” Tommy takes out a fresh smoke bomb, and places it next to the money. “Do you ever feel back for those guys?”
“Who? The Sleepy Bois? No not really.”
“But like. What did they ever do?”
“Nothing.”
“Exactly! Why do they get all the credit?”
“Because we’re orphaned high schoolers,” Tubbo said dryly. “Because if we aren’t even on the suspect list then we aren’t gonna get caught.”
“Okay,” Tommy relented. “But those are like, super incompetent, what’s our plan when they finally get caught?”
Silence washed over the comms as Tommy yoinked a bag of chips and got out of there.
“Is keeping the three of them out of jail even worth it?”
“Yes,” Tubbo said. “It’s worth it. Investing in their safety is beneficially to us.”
“Okay. I’ll meet you guys at the Cupcakery. Theseus out.”
 Time: 22:47, May 31st, 2021
Tubbo and Ranboo are in the Cupcakery on 6th Street when Tommy walks in knives out. “I want a French chocolate swirl lady!”
Niki took a moment to process the demand. Here she was having a lovely conversation with two of her most favourite late night customers, and now the third was threatening her with a knife. “Excuse me?”
“French chocolate swirl. Hand it over. I’m in the mood for some sweets. Don’t make me ask twice!”
Niki finally put her hands up. Tubbo and Ranboo were in their civilian clothing and played the part of worried shoppers. “Do you have money?” she asked, scared.
“I have a knife.”
And that was the moment a hero walked into the building.
Ah.
Tommy had spotted Nightmare on the way here.
“Theseus.”
Tommy whirled around. Backing into the counter, acting more scared than he actually was.
“What are you doing kid?” Nightmare asked exasperated.
“M’ not a kid!”
“Yeah yeah.” Nightmare was already reaching into the back pocket for his wallet. He took about a crisp twenty. “Put the knife away kid. Buy yourself the cupcake.”
“Oh.” Tommy reached out for the twenty; eyes shifting looking around for the trap. He had a 750k ransom in his backpack, and there was always a chance Nightmare had found them out. Even with the SBI decoy. He snatched the cash. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome kid. Stop harassing Niki here, and keep the change.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Nightmare, clearly satisfied with his diffusion of the situation, nodded to Niki.
“Would you like a cupcake?”
“Excuse me?”
“Nevermind.”
“I mean if you’re offering.”
“Two French chocolate swirls please!”
Niki pulled out two cupcakes stiffly and took the twenty. She put them and the change on the counter.
Nightmare tipped an invisible hat to Niki before leaving. “Think you’re suit needs some dry cleaning Theseus.”
“Because I can afford it!” Tommy bantered back. The door bell rung as the hero left. “Oh of these days my comments are going to get me killed, I know. Shush Tubbo.” Tommy lowered his green bandana and took a bite of his cupcake. “Sorry for pulling a knife on you Niki.”
“It’s fine. I know you won’t hurt me.”
“What the fuck Tommy!”
“Oh shut up Tubbo. I had it under control.”
“You’re going to be our downfall,” Ranboo said.
“You guys are the ones telling Niki!”
“Yeah but it’s Niki.”
“Yeah Tommy. I’m just Niki.”
“You’re right that was rude. I’m sorry Niki.”
Niki took out a cloth and wiped Tommy’s crumbs away. “You boys get home. Isn’t it a school night?”
The three fourteen year olds groaned.
“Bye Niki.”
“Don’t get caught.”
Tommy handed Ranboo his backpack.
Tubbo and Ranboo packed their homework into Tubbo’s backpack and their loose stationary with the money in Ranboo’s. They waved to Niki and walked back to their shotty little apartment.
Tommy put his bandana over his mouth and nose, and readjusted his red blazer. He left through the front door back towards the trade cite. He was needed to save SBI’s assess from Nightmare.
He flicked his steel throwing cards around his hands. He hoped it’ll go well. He needed this to go well.
- - -
Time: 23:00, May 31st, 2021
Wilbur read the instructions he had written on the inside of this arm one more time. “There is a briefcase with 250k. Disperse it among the three of you. When Nightmare arrives at 23:15 for the meeting time of 0:00, hold the briefcase and run like hell. You should have the money on your person, don’t let him catch any of you and ditch the briefcase if need be.”
“I still don’t get how we managed to get this money,” Philza said on the way to the homeless shelter’s food storage facility.”
“Don’t question it.”
“But, like, it said it was a ransom for blackmail. We don’t have any blackmail on anybody.”
“Don’t question it.”
“Guys can you focus? We have a mission to accomplish.”
“Techno, you gotta admit that we’re shit.”
“We are shit. But Nightmare doesn’t know that. And I’m not turning down 250k.”
- - -
Time: 23:58, May 31st, 2021
Shit. Tommy had need to graze Nightmare’s ankle with his ace of clubs for Burr to escape.
Nightmare was clearly put out that he hadn’t been able to catch the SBI. He left the storage facility empty briefcase in hand, and clearly put out.
Nightmare bent down and picked up the throwing card from under an aisle.
If there was one thing Tommy hated the most out of this whole, pretend the SBI are the ones doing the things that the Klupa Boys are doing, it’s that Burr gets credit for Tommy’s amazing feats.
“In case either of you are awake and on comms. The SBI had a clean escape, but I’m down a card.”
- - -
[CONT]
Notes: The SBI are still at large and are a danger to the people of Braidingston. Be advised that they might still ask for more money depending on the contents of their information. Order French chocolate swirls from the Cupcakery on 6th Street at the next office party.
9 notes · View notes